The circus had reached its climax and everyone, (save for a few servicemen who had fallen into drunken comas) filed outside for a cigarette and to discuss the performance's highs and lows.
Bernie slithered off in the direction of the living quarters of the circus folk.
Dressed in jeans, a checked shirt and wearing a baseball cap, Bernie was the picture of the typical mid-Western youth, a true child of the time, and anonymous enough to be invisible to the other hired hands who with a few exceptions, were all dressed the same way.
As they nomadic community pulled together in the task of dismantling the giant tent, pulling out the spikes, getting the big poles down and gathering up the canvas with its two entry flaps, squaring it all away for the next time it would be erected.
Bernie didn't want to join in with this exercise and opted to hide in a large wicker laundry basket, which was eventually loaded onto a truck.
'Gee this is heavy!' said a disembodied voice as the basket was hoisted into the trailer for a long journey into the unknown. This had been the plan all along, to get as far away from home as possible, so as they couldn't send you back right off.
Bernie never heard the basket being unloading, as the excitement of the previous night had induced a great deep, dreamless sleep. Bernie awoke, with a start to see two puzzled faces looking downward.
'Looks like we got ourselves a stowaway, Hank!'