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Carnival Stow Away

Culture Shock - *WARNING* Course Language & explicit content

By Analise DionnPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
9
Carnival Stow Away
Photo by Aral Tasher on Unsplash

It was August 26th, 1990. The stifling heat and wicked stench of body odor woke me, with a choking gag, from the soundest sleep I'd had in ages, maybe ever. It took me a few minutes of taking in the dark surroundings to remember where I was, what I'd done. Instantly, I was gripped with shock... disbelief and fear. Yet in the same breathe there was an exhilaration that was undeniable, albeit tainted by guilt.

Despite the heat, I wrapped myself tighter in the dank sleeping bag. Maybe I was dreaming. This couldn't possibly be really happening, especially not to little ole, mousy, shy, quiet, submissive... me! This was the stuff of movies and wild novels. No way could it be a part of my story! At what point had I actually grown the testicular tissue to do something THIS brash!?!

I had been eighteen for three months and six days. For as long as I could remember I'd been trying to figure out how I would ever be able to leave home. I'd never really believed in the religion my parents had tried to forcefully shove down my throat from birth. I learned early on that leaving the religion would mean cutting ties with everyone I loved and cared about. My life would never be the same. Not once had anything like this ever even crossed my mind.

My parents had exercised full control over every aspect of my life, including what I could read or who I could talk to. They had already planned my life as a devout and submissive missionary wife. There had been no need to learn skills that most parents ensured were firmly grasped by their children long before they were ready to leave the nest. I wouldn't be going anywhere until my husband took me home and then HE would provide for me. As long as I could cook, clean, make babies and be a 'godly wife', I would want for nothing.

This certainly wasn't the 'happily ever after' my parents had envisioned. There was no way to turn back, having crossed provincial lines stashed away in the sleeper of a truck in the middle of the night. My mind flashed back to the night before, when the convoy had stopped in Valemount for supper. Some guy with wild red hair and a thick unkempt beard had poked his head through the curtain and with a thick French accent, he'd ordered me to stay put. I recognized Elder Dave's voice right away, I'd listened to him drone from the pulpit at least three times a week all of my life. What the hell was he doing five hours from home in a truck stop parking lot in the middle of the night? He was looking for me. The red head pretended not to understand. He prattled back in French, his sentences punctuated with an occasional 'Fuck off' or 'Fuck you'. It wasn't long before Elder Dave had moved on in his search.

Now what? I didn't even know where I was, just that we had driven all night to get here. Sasquatch had told me the night before that he wouldn't be here, but Stubby would make sure I was looked after. I pulled the curtain back to try and get my bearings, but the sun was blinding and a wave of even more heat blasted through truck windshield, so I let the curtain drop back into place. My heart pounded in my chest. Where the hell was I!?! A mall parking lot, jammed with semis that were now slowly moving rides and concession trailers into place.

Someone banged on the side of the truck. 'Get your ass out of there! You have to get to work or you'll have to fuck Alain to pay for your ride and roof!' It was that same thick accent that had told Elder Dave to fuck off the night before.

My breath caught in my throat. My eyes wide with terror, I cracked open the door. The red head stood before me, obviously annoyed. 'What?' I asked. I didn't really want to know the answer, but I best find out anyway.

'We open tonight at 7:00. It's time to get your ass in gear and help us get this show ready to roll. The only way to get out of work around here is to take care of your driver!'

A greasy little man with dark hair and beard stood a few feet back in the shade. His erection was far too obvious, stretching at his filthy sweat pants. His eager grin revealed missing teeth, the remaining ones stained to almost black. He hopped from one foot to the other, rubbing his hands together and looking from me to the red head, nodding, 'Oui?' he asked. I could only assume that this was Alain. My body tensed as vomit rose and burned at my throat. I may not have known what I was doing, but I sure as hell wasn't doing him!

I glanced around the parking lot, hoping to find an easy way out of this tense situation. What I saw made my head spin even more. A crowd had gathered. People stood back, smirking and laughing, eager to witness my reaction to this retched proposal. The intensity of this make or break moment was heavy in the air. My mind was awhirl trying to figure out how I would let Alain down gently, after all he had rescued me from the hell that had been my previous life. I knew that this was going to be a defining moment for me. I was innocent and clueless and this was truly the underbelly of society, nothing could have prepared me to make a choice like this. The swarm that had gathered basked in my awkwardness.

Suddenly, cursing roared through the air. The throng parted, like the seas before Moses, as a raging 4'9" Stubby charged across the parking lot, smashing headlong into Alain. Fists and blood flew, the sound of Alain's nose being crushed was clearly audible and pushed my stomach over the edge. I raced behind the truck, puked and collapsed to the ground in tears. What had I done? I didn't belong here. I should have been sitting in a hall with my family listening to a sermon.

A tall man, dressed to the nines in expensive western wear down to the white Stetson hat and polished belt buckle, helped me up and walked me to a trailer marked 'office'.

'Who the hell are you? What the fuck are you doing here? I'll tell you right now, you better have ID and if your not eighteen, I'll be kicking your ass all the way back home myself!'

I ducked my head as I reached in my back pocket for my driver's license and slid it across his desk, in shamed silence.

He checked my ID, then assessed me with one raised eyebrow. 'I still don't think you belong here,' he said, 'But I guess I won't be kicking your ass home. We best figure out what we're doing with you. Have you ever spun sugar?'

When I emerged from the office I was officially a 'flossette'. Marty had thought it best to give me a job where I'd actually be inside a trailer for my shifts. He'd warned me that word had already spread like wildfire through the crew that a church mouse had jumped on the train. The guys were all going to want their chance to 'break me in.' He would be scheduling my breaks to line up with either Stubby's or Frenchy's. Despite the earlier show, Frenchy wouldn't let anything happen to me unless I actually said I wanted it.

Everyone stopped working and stared as Frenchy and Stubby marched me down the midway to my post, one on each side. The guys all drooled over the fresh meat, the women churned and boiled with anger at the thought of competition. I just kept walking forward in fear and silence, trying to keep my eyes focused on the tiny trailer ahead with flashing light up sign that read 'Cotton Candy'...

Teenage years
9

About the Creator

Analise Dionn

This life began with trauma. Now married, with 2 adult children and raising a grandchild with FASD/PTSD/ADHD. Navigating this very personal journey of healing with ADHD, thriving after a lifetime of abuse... all through the grace of God.

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