The Gold Star Circus was expected to roll into Fayetteville sometime after ten o’clock.  Gladys had plans to run away with the circus, provided that she could convince the owner to let her join the troupe.  To Gladys’ surprise, her mother had balked at the idea.

“No daughter of mine is going to gallivant around the country with a band of misfits.  You might as well dig my grave now.”

Gladys took a glance at herself in the hall mirror before sneaking out of the house. She combed three fingers through her bonny beard and grinned.  She would be happy.