We were assigned to help put together the Zamps. Once they were put together, and met the standards of operation (or something like that, some such nonsensical bullshit), we could take a rest. Two of the three rides were the ones that I needed to see if I could repair the solders on the circuit boards. Someone had to fetch a soldering iron for me (even though I had one in the trunk of my car, I couldn't get to it with all of everybody's crap in there) and a spool of solder. It took forever, it seemed, for them to return. I was getting the feeling that the kid who was looking for these things had no idea what he was looking for.

About an hour later, he returns with a soldering iron, but they didn't have a spool of solder I could use. I said I'd try to repair it with the solder already on the board, but when I went into the first control panel and took out the first board, there was no solder on it! No wonder the fuckin thing didn't want to run! It was like someone peeled it off. The second board was better, but not enough to fix it without more solder.

"I'm going to need a spool of solder before we can do anything else with these rides." I told a tough looking broad calling her bad-ass self D.J.

"So where do we get this solder, princess?" she sneered. Oh, man, we're gonna get along great, I thought.

"The name's Sara, and I would check with your maintenance crew first before you go to an electronics warehouse for it."

"What's it look like, Sara?"

"Just like a big spool of thick thread, D.J."

"I'll go check, wait right there Princess Sara."

Autumn came over to me after witnessing this exchange. "What crawled up her ass and died? Geez! What a bitch!"

I told Autumn that I hoped that I was going to get paid for this. Autumn thought that I would at least get paid for putting the damned rides together.

I heard snoring, and there was my baby, my Scooby-Doo, snoozing on the grass. Steve, Doc and Jenny were doing the same thing. I so wanted to join them in the land of nod, but no sooner did I have that thought than D.J. came back. Empty-handed. Oh, great.

"Maintenance says they'll get some by tomorrow," she sneered at me.

"Your rides won't run if the circuit can't make a connection through the board. The solder is the conductor that the electronic impulses go through to produce the power to make it go." And that was the simple version. If she didn't understand that, then I give up!

"Okay, princess, whatever you say. Helen wants these rides to run on opening day."

"They'll run if I can get solder."

"Oh, by the way, you guys can get your money at Helen's RV. We really appreciate you guys helping us."

And this was how you show your so-called appreciation, I thought blackly as we went back over to Helen's motor home. By treating us like we owe you a favor? Being polite and decent to people who didn't have to come over and set up your rides and fix your screwed up circuit boards had, apparently, gone out the window with the baby and the bathwater.

We were directed around to the back of the motor home by some flunky to a little window. This was, we were told, where we would come to get any greenhelp pay. Even Sean and the others would get paid for assembling the Zamps because they weren't with this unit (thank God!), and it was above and beyond their regular pay. Since I wasn't on the show's payroll, I'd get paid for my labor.

Helen's bulk soon appeared at the window and asked us one at a time our names and Social Security numbers. I went last.

"Name?" Helen asked.

"Sara Cyr. C-Y-R."

"Social?"

I gave that, although I don't know why. Maybe for their records. I just better see a W-2 from these folks in January, I thought.

"Sara," Helen said; "I'm paying you now for assembling the rides. When you finish the soldering job, then I'll pay you for that at the same rate as our maintenance crew. We just don't have anyone who can solder right now."

She then handed me an envelope and a receipt to sign. I handed back the receipt. Then she told us all to have a nice day. As we were walking away, Helen called to me, "Sara, how can I get in touch with you when the supplies you need come in?"

"Call my cell phone," I replied and wrote the number down. "I'll keep it on while I'm here." I had been keeping the phone off to conserve battery power.

"Okay, sweetheart, I'll give you a call when we're ready for you."

I nodded and jogged to catch up with the others.

"What'd she want?" Sean asked.

"She wanted a way to get a hold of me when the solder was available," I said. "I gave my cell number because I don't know where we're staying while we're here."

"They gonna pay you for soldering?"

"She said they would pay me at the same rate as a member of their maintenance crew."

Sean looked at me with surprise. "Do you realize how much they get paid?"

"Not really."

"They get the big bucks, because without them, there'd be no midway."

I said I thought that might be the case, but this being Unit One, which didn't have the most sterling reputation in the world (or even within our show), I thought they might try to stiff me on what I was due.

We had walked back over to the three rides we assembled to see that a fourth ride was being assembled by some of the Unit One guys. I thought it was about time someone put their lazy butts to work. That someone, it turns out, was tough-chick D.J.

Sean, Steve and Doc pitched in, while Autumn, Jenny and I watched. We talked about the arrangements that had been made for our lodging, which were none! Jenny had her tent, and she'd just pitch it wherever the Hanks, Junior and Senior, pitched theirs. Steve and Autumn had a tent as well, but wanted to stay in a motel that night.

"Sean and I are going out later to find a motel ourselves," I told Autumn. "Why don't you and Steve come with us?"

Autumn thought that was a better idea than what Steve could come up with, which was getting a ride from Hank, Sr. when he went into town to get stuff for his cooler.

Hank, Jr. was just a kid, but he'd been out with carnivals with his dad since he was fourteen. Hank, Sr. was kind of gruff, but he was a nice guy when he wanted to be. He was nice to Jenny because she was his son's half-sister, but bad mouthed her mother, his ex-wife, whenever he got the chance. He also had plenty to say about Jenny's so-called reputation, but that was only when Jenny wasn't around. Jenny could be a little naive at times as far as male attention was concerned. Hell, I had twenty years on her, and I was still that way! But, unlike Jenny, when I found a good man, I stuck with him. If I didn't think Sean was worth my time, I wouldn't even be out here!

After the fourth ride was completed, Sean, Steve and Doc rejoined us, and our conversation on lodging that night. Doc was going to stay in Hank, Jr.'s tent, and Steve had mentioned finding a motel. Sean told him that he and Autumn were welcome to join us when we went into town. Autumn and I laughed, and Steve asked what we found so funny.

"We had already talked about this while you guys were helping with the AeroMax!" Autumn said.

"Oh..." Steve said. There were times that Steve didn't act too bright.

Sean looked at me and said, "Sara, that phone didn't ring, did it?"

"No. They told me tomorrow."

"Good. Let's get the fuck off this lot before I punch someone."

A group of the Unit One crew had been standing around, making rather audible comments on the attributes of the "ladies from Unit Three." They acted like they hadn't been laid in forever, and were quite graphic about what they'd do to us if they had a chance, "especially those two!" indicating me and Autumn. And, it went on and on throughout the day.

We got really tired of it after a while. Sean stood up for all of us, telling these jerks that we didn't have to come out here and help them set up their stupid rides, and that we were to be treated with respect. He continued by saying that if this rude treatment continued that they'd be answering to him.

Someone made a comment about quaking in their boots. "Ooh, the big dog from Unit Three's talking tough."

He then pointed to me and said, "You even look at Sara funny and I'll bust your balls." One dope actually asked why...

Sean said, "You mess with my woman and you're gonna be wishin you was never born."

Wow! I've never had a man stand up for me in that way before! I kinda liked it.

"I'm done with these clowns," Sean said; "It's a wrap!" He started to walk away. He was quite a distance away when I decided, with Steve and Autumn behind me, to catch up.

"Sean!" I called; "Wait up!"

When the four of us got in the car, Sean turned to me and said, "Sara, if any of those assholes give you a hard time tomorrow while you're fixing those two Zamps, let me know."

"I will, baby," I said; "But I'll have a hot soldering iron...and I know how to use it! And it might not be in the way the manufacturer intended!"

Everyone laughed, and Sean said, "Good girl! Let 'em know you don't have to fix their rides, so if they can't behave, then let 'em have it!"

"Maybe all she'll have to do," Steve was saying, "is mention something to Helen or that D.J. chick. I think they're all scared of those two."

"Hmmm..." Sean contemplated. "This could be true..."

Motel hunting in Connecticut was a little easier than it was in the wilds of Maine; there were more motels with NO VACANCY signs. We drove off the main road and down a ways until we found a little motel next to a small diner that only served breakfast ("breakfast served 6-10am"). The motel, we learned, had two rooms available. We're thinking, great, each couple will have their own room.

Sean and Steve each got keys. Sean's room and mine was in the front facing the street, while Steve and Autumn's faced the back parking lot. I couldn't wait until we got in our room. I wanted to lay down and take a nap in the worst way.

When we got inside though, the room looked like someone had torn the damn place apart! The beds had no linens, no towels, and the trash bin was overflowing with pizza boxes and used condoms! "Oh, my God!" I cried; "This is unacceptable!"

The room reminded me of the motel rooms I cleaned when I worked as a maid during college. Gave me perfect training to clean up after three kids and a husband. Now, however, I'm not going to do someone else's job. I'd just as well go elsewhere.

Sean was out the door before I had a chance to say anything further. I saw him go into the motel office and complain about the state of our room to the clerk. I went back inside the room to get my stuff and put it back in the trunk. I then heard Sean calling my name.

I responded and Sean asked me to come into the office. I walked in and the clerk said to me, "We have no other room for you."

"Well the room you did give us hasn't seen a housekeeper in days. How could you possibly think we'd pay good money to stay in it? It either gets clean, or you give us back our money. Got that, pal?" I was pissed! Sean looked at me like I'd lost my mind (and with the way I felt about the mess we walked into, maybe I had!).

"I have no other room for you, miss. Maid is off today."

"Then YOU clean it! You gave us a key to the room knowing it wasn't ready for new guests."

"No one here but me. Can't leave desk."

I put out my hand. "Then give us our money back. Now!"

Autumn came over to see us in our room, but found us in the office. Sean explained what had happened while I was getting our money back from the ineffectual clerk.

When I emerged from the office with the fifty dollars plus tax Sean had paid for the room ("Highway robbery!" I said to the clerk) I told Autumn that Sean and I were going to look for another motel and that we'd pick them up later to get dinner, Autumn said that there were two beds in her and Steve's room, why don't you bunk with us?

"Sean, what do you think?"

"I think we should do it. What if we don't find another place tonight?"

"How about this," Autumn said; "Put your stuff in our room and go look around. If you find something, great. If not, you'll still have a place to stay tonight."

Autumn and I walked around the building to her room while Sean drove the car around. Once we were all in Autumn and Steve's room, we talked about what had happened and what the plan was. Steve seemed a little put out by Autumn's suggestion that Sean and I stay with them (not that I blame him. We wanted our privacy, too), but went along because he saw that he was outnumbered.

Sean and I went out to see if there was another motel near by, but there wasn't. The closest one was a good ten to fifteen miles down the road in Willmantic, and we both agreed that was too far away from everything. There was a Wal-Mart, though (isn't there a Wal-Mart everywhere?), and we decided to bring Autumn and Steve there when we went out for dinner.

We headed back to what Sean was now calling "The Hoopty Inn", and told Autumn and Steve that there were no other motels near there.

"We'll manage, won't we?" Steve said.

"Sure we will," Autumn agreed.

When I started to thank them for their generosity, Autumn said it was no problem. "After all the stuff you guys have done for us, it's the least we could do."

Sean had remained uncharacteristically quiet during all this. I asked what the matter was, and Sean said "Nothing."

"You sure?"

Sean nodded yes, he was sure. "I guess I'm just tired and still a little pissed off about the shit at the lot, the motel room and stuff."

He decided that he wanted a shower, and then maybe go out and get some beer and order pizza. Everyone thought that was a great idea. Pizza and beer. Hell, after today, even I'd drink a beer.

I heard my cell phone ringing. What the hell time is it, I thought as I struggled into wakefulness. I reached over a snoring Sean to get it.

"Hello?"

"Sara? This is Helen at the lot. Your solder is here. When can you start?"

"Oh, hi." I said, looking at my watch and seeing it was almost eight-thirty. "I can start as soon as I'm fully coherent. Give me a couple hours to pull myself together."

Helen asked if I could start before noon, and I told I could. She asked me to come to her motor home to get the solder and the iron when I got there. I told her I'd do that, and that I'd see her then.

Sean was awake by now. "Must be time to prove yourself there, girly-girl."

"It would appear so. I'm starving."

Steve and Autumn were still sleeping. Sean was going to go out to Mickey-D's and get breakfast. I thought I'd go back to sleep for about half an hour, then thought better of it. I wanted to be fully awake. "Get me coffee, baby, okay?" I asked Sean before he left. He kissed me and said he would.

The pizza and beer from the night before had gotten to me. I drank two beers, which for me was too much. The pizza was terrible. The pukefest in the bathroom at three am was not fun. The sex in the bathroom was much, much better. We'd gotten away with it with Autumn and Steve in the next room!

Autumn had family in Maine, and she spent part of the night on the phone with them. That didn't thrill Steve too much. I'm sure he was looking forward to occupying Autumn's time in some other way. They had had a disagreement about it after the beer and pizza arrived, and drinking didn't improve their moods any. Autumn drank me under the table. Steve got more and more pissed off, and walked around outside a lot. Sean found them rather amusing; of course, he'd been drinking, too. And, as much as he could put away, I had yet to see him drunk.

Sean soon returned with breakfast for everyone. Good thing, because Autumn was awake. Steve was still sawing logs in the bed next to her. Autumn shook him awake gently, telling him that "Scooby and Sara brought us breakfast!"

"Aw, man...you didn't have to do that," Steve protested. "At least let me pay you for ours." Sean wouldn't hear of it.

Sean was quite fond of saying things like, your good deeds will be rewarded in the Kingdom of Heaven. That's how he lived his life. He didn't have much growing up, and he worked for everything he'd ever got. He wanted to share with everyone in hopes they'll be inspired to pass it on to the next person who needed a hand. I realized that Sean was teaching by example, and sometimes, even I was surprised that people were actually getting it. Sean, however, didn't know he was doing anything more than giving folks a hand when they needed it. It was one of the things I loved about him.

After breakfast, we gathered up our stuff and piled it in the trunk, but not before I got my soldering iron out of the wheel well of the spare tire. I hadn't used it since I was laid off. My ex-husband gave it to me when I first got the job at Lucent, once upon a time.

We got to the lot around eleven, and I headed straight to Helen's RV. She indeed had the solder I needed, but I told her that I had my own iron, that I didn't realize it was in the trunk of my car. I then walked out to the two rides I needed to work on. Sean, Autumn and Steve were waiting for me.

"Well, I better get to work," I said. "It shouldn't take me too long to get these fixed and tested."

The others were going to the campsite, where the rest of our group was set up, to see what their assignments for the day were going to be. Before they left, Sean reminded me to not let those horny Unit One guys get to me. In response, I held up my soldering iron and said, "I have a hot soldering iron, and I know how to use it!"

"You go, girl!" This from Autumn. Then they walked off. I was to meet them at the campsite when I was done.

The jobs weren't all too difficult. I got them done within a couple of hours. I didn't have too many interruptions, but this one guy was getting on my nerves. He just wouldn't leave me alone, and kept trying to tell me how to do the job better.

"If you don't mind, I am perfectly capable of doing this job without your assistance," I told this guy, called Tom. He was a ride jock with Unit One.

"But you're doing it wrong, sweetie."

"And how many of these have you soldered?"

"None. But you're still doin' it wrong."

"This is what I do for a living, pal. Would you please get off my back?" I got up holding the iron in one hand, and solder in the other.

"I'm done. Fire 'em up. They'll go now."

Ole doubting Tom did what he was told, and frankly he was shocked when the ride operated the way it was supposed to. "I don't get it," Tom said. "It works!"

"Of course it works, pal. I know what I'm doing. I did this every day for four years, and communications equipment for Lucent Technologies worked just fine, thank you."

I gathered up my iron, now unplugged and cooling off, and went back to see Helen to return the solder. I told her that the rides were now operational, and if she wanted to see them in action, we could go see them. Fortunately, Helen could see both of them from a window in her motor home, and was duly impressed.

"Anyone give you any trouble? I saw Old Tom out there talking to you."

"Yes. I had to ask him to leave me alone so I could work. He thought he could do it better, I suppose."

"He can barely run that ride, Sara. He was just talking out the side of his mouth."

No shit. Really?

Helen then invited me inside her motor home (which I was told later was rare for just anyone to be invited) so she could pay me. I signed the receipt, and she handed me an envelope with quite a bit of cash in it. "You did a wonderful job, Sara. I hope Brian knows what he's got out there."

I told Helen that I'd met Brian, and he didn't impress me much. Still, if he asked me to solder something for him, I'd do it.

I went back to the campsite, and Hank, Sr. was the only one there. Everyone else was out working. I saw that Sean had brought the car up to the campsite, so I went inside, opened the trunk, and put the now cold soldering iron back in its case. I then got in the driver's seat and started to read a book I brought with me. I had no idea where Sean was, or when he'd be back. I couldn't wait to tell him about my little soldering job.

"They paid you how much?" Sean asked when I told him about what I had done to fix those two Zamps. He was in shock, or it appeared so to me. "Helen didn't offer you a job, did she?"

"No, she didn't, and I would have declined the offer if she did," I said. I didn't get an engineering degree so I could work for a carnival, and any job prospects I'd have gotten from the show I would have been immediately suspect of.

This wasn't the kind of life for me, I already knew that, but while I was here, I may as well make myself useful. Sean was good at physical labor, and even with his limited education, he could go far. He'd worked for carnivals off and on since his early twenties, though this show was the first as a ride jock. His other carnival jobs were in games, and he was good at that, too. He could talk anyone into almost anything. He'd gotten almost everyone on the midway in Springfield to wear those goofy Cat-in-the-Hat hats one day, although by the time I was aware of it, all the hats were gone.

Sean and I were sitting in the car. I had told him how much I'd gotten from Helen when I was done with the Zamps, and that I was actually invited inside her RV to get paid.

"What are you going to do with your money, Sara? You earned it fair and square."

"Are you kidding, Sean? I'm going to get some clothes and a jacket, because God knows when I'll get home."

The money I earned at the carnival was above and beyond what I got from unemployment. That allowed me to pay my bills, buy groceries, and things to survive. My "carnie money" was going to be used on me for things I needed out here. Truth be told, I did need clothes. I had only planned on being gone for a weekend, but it had been almost three weeks, and I didn't have enough clothes. I'd bought some in Springfield, but when all three pairs of jeans were dirty, and there was no laundromat available, then I was stuck wearing dirty clothes.

"Why don't you go home for a couple of days, pick up some clothes, then come back before we open on Friday or Saturday?"

"I could do that, but..."

"But what?" Sean asked.

"I really don't want to. When I realized I was going to be away longer than I thought, I arranged for my cat to be taken care of and stopped my mail. I can send in my rent checks from the road, and call the phone and gas people to get my current balances."

"Well," Sean began, "I don't really want you to go. I just thought that if you needed to go home, you could because you're not really going to be doing anything out here."

I admitted that it was something to think about. I had plenty of money that wasn't already earmarked for something else, and that if my soldering skills were needed again, I would be available. I wanted to stay, because there wasn't anything at home to keep me occupied. At least out here, I was doing something other than staring at four walls and watching Columbus the Wonder Cat goof off.

Sean asked if I wanted to get Chinese for dinner and find a motel. I did not want to stay where were the night before, with its uncleaned rooms due to the absence of its only housekeeper. And, Chinese was always agreeable to me.

"Are we taking Steve and Autumn with us?" I asked.

"They might put up their tent here," Sean said. "The motel charge last night was a bit of a strain on their budget."

Hmmmm..."It's Wednesday, don't you get paid today?"

"No, because we're with Unit One this week, we'll get paid when they do, which is tomorrow."

"I thought I heard that Andy had your checks?"

"Nah," Sean said. "That was some bogus info Andy got. He's not too happy about that, either."

"I'll bet he's not."

Autumn walked up to the Camaro just then, and asked if we were still going into town. I told her yes, that we were. "Oh, okay," she said; "because Steve and I are going to stay in our tent tonight, and maybe eat at the cookshack. I hear that Unit One's cookshack is better than ours."

God, I hope that's true, I thought.

Autumn declined our invite for her and Steve to join us for Chinese, so I revved up the Camaro's engine and started the trip off the lot. We had to negotiate our way between rides, trucks, donikers, and other obstacles to just get on the road that led out of the fairgrounds.

Since the windows were down (damned A/C. I really should use some of this money to get that fixed!), I heard a lot of comments about the car. Most of them were nice. While I was stopped at the gate, someone came up to my side of the car and asked what year it was.

"It's a '69 Camaro SS. Three ninety-six engine block, eight cylinders, and all original parts."

"Sweet ride!"

"Thanks." Now that the gate was open, I drove through to the road. Sean was sitting over there in the passenger's seat with the proverbial cat-who-ate-the-canary grin on his face.

"What you grinnin' about?" I asked.

"I love it when people say nice stuff about the car. I love this car!" Then, realizing what he said might be taken the wrong way, Sean said, "But her owner's chassis is the one I like to tinker with!"

"Damn right!" I said, laughing. "And I think my chassis needs a few fluids tonight!"

"Just call me Mr. Goodwrench!"

"Oh yeah, baby! Can't wait!"

Arriving in town, we went to the first Chinese place we could find. As far as Chinese cuisine was concerned, both Sean and I were creatures of habit. He always got beef and broccoli, and I always got Lo Mein.

We talked more about our day, as much of it was spent apart. Sean told me that the Unit One ride jocks were some of the most accident prone people he'd ever seen. Someone, at any particular time, would have to have medical attention. Most were for things like cuts and contusions, or heat exhaustion, but today, some idiot helping assemble the Zipper managed to nearly sever the tips of the middle finger of each hand by doing something (Sean never heard exactly what this guy did) that was unsafe. I had seen the ambulance come onto the lot on my way back from my soldering job, but thought nothing of it. I thought that it was a mandatory thing to satisfy some OSHA regulation. Come to find out that wasn't the case, and this guy had to have surgery to save his hands.

A lot of the game joints went up today as well, so Andy's crew was pretty busy all day (which is why I didn't see any of them). The ride jocks that came with us were all busy helping with ride assembly, and got assignments for when the fair opened on Friday. Sean would be on this ride called the Tilt-a-Whirl. It was a handbrake and clutch ride just like the Wheel he was running in Springfield, and only got that particular ride because he knew how to use a handbrake and clutch. Steve would be on the AeroMax, and Autumn would be running the carousel. Sean didn't know where Doc would end up, yet.

"There's this ride that still needs an operator," Sean said. "It's called Raiders, and it isn't really a ride. It's more like a climbing maze or something like that."

I remembered that one from Bangor, I told him.

"No one wants to stand at that one all day and take tickets, because there's really nothing to it, but it's going to be assembled tomorrow, and the midway manager is looking for volunteers."

"You didn't 'volunteer' me, did you?"

"No, Sara, I didn't," Sean said; "Why, do you want to volunteer? I don't think you should, because they might need you for repairs if another ride's circuit board goes bad."

Uh, oh...sounded like another rumor going round the lot. "What makes you think that I might be needed again, Sean?"

"There was talk on the midway today about the soldering iron girl from Unit Three."

"And what was said?" Did I really want to know?

"Well, some ride jock was saying that you fixed the Zamps, and I guess he was impressed. Word travels fast on the midway, Sara. You're golden."

"It was probably that old guy who kept bugging me while I worked. Kept saying I was doing it all wrong. Boy did I surprise him when the rides were switched on!"

"I'll bet! Nobody doubts my Sara, no sir!"

"Did you tell these people who I was?"

"Hell, yeah I did! I told 'em that was my honey who fixed those Zamps. But, shit, I got some funny looks. A lot of 'your girlfriend can solder?' "

I laughed. I think I was going to like busting a few stereotypes while I was here! Then Sean told me he was proud of me, and I didn't know what to say. So I cried instead. I didn't intend to, it just happened.

"What's wrong, Sara?" Sean said as he slid over to my side of the table. "Tell me about it."

"Nothing's wrong, Sean," I said, drying my eyes. "I just never expected to hear you say that."

"That I'm proud of you? Sara, you know me, I only say what I mean. And I am proud of you. You proved yourself to some of the hardest to convince people in the world."

I said that was nice to hear. It was more appreciation than I ever got at Lucent, even after four years.

We finished up our dinner and headed out to the car. It was nice that it was just the two of us out and about. We drove through Willmantic to go to Wal-Mart. It was dark now, and it was getting cold. All I had on for outerwear was a sweatshirt and a windbreaker, and I was freezing!

I found a nice heavy jacket (with a hood. I had to have a hood!) that was reasonably priced (even with my soldering money, I was still looking for bargains!). It was a reddish brown color, and came down to my hips. It had nice, deep pockets. I was quite pleased with my find, and Sean said it looked good on me.

Sean picked up some undershirts, another t-shirt, and a pair of black pants. He'd buy more after he got paid on Thursday. I bought another pair of jeans, more socks, and some elastics and clips for my hair. I had cut my hair short at the beginning of the summer, and it had grown out enough at this point for me to have to pin it up, especially when I worked in the Dough.

We started back to the lot, then decided to look for a motel. There was one closer to the lot than the one we stayed in the night before. There was a vacancy, so we grabbed it.

It was much nicer than the one from last night! I was duly impressed. We brought in our stuff and settled in. Sean was flipping through the channels on the television and settled on some auto-oriented program. I didn't really care about what was on the tube, because I was going to take a shower.

The warm water felt good to my sore muscles. I wasn't used to sitting on my haunches while soldering, as I had done during the afternoon, and my thighs and calves were hurting something awful. I washed and rinsed my hair, and when I emerged from the shower, I felt like a new person. I slipped on my nightshirt, gathered my clothes, and went out into the main room.

Sean was engrossed in the program he was watching. I was feeling a little frisky. So, recalling from our conversation from earlier in the day, I said,

"Hey, Mr. Goodwrench...wanna come and check out my chassis?"

That got Sean's attention! The TV was turned off and all eyes were on me.

I walked over to the bed and Sean pulled me down onto it. I could feel him pulling up the night shirt and his hands on my breasts.

Soon, his lips were everywhere. His tongue teased my nipples, and then his lips enveloped one and I was gone! I could feel the climax starting it the pit of my belly. I raised my hips to let him know that there was someplace else that needed attention.

He got the hint. I could feel his tongue lightly licking the outside of my very excited womanhood. "Sean," I whispered excitedly, "oh, God, Sean, fuck me!"

His answer was to take my hardened pleasureflesh and suck on it, then lick the opening to my slit alternately. He was driving me crazy, I was climaxing all over the place. After a few more minutes of this sweet agony, his hardness entered me.

His rhythm got me closer and closer to another fall, I could hear his voice repeating, "Saralinda," over and over. I knew he was close as well.

"Oh, sweet Jesus...help me, baby," I heard Sean say as he finally let go. "Oh, God, Sara...you're so beautiful and I don't deserve you."

That remark troubled me. Why would he think that? Was there something he wasn't telling me?

Sean laid next to me and we kissed. I touched his face and ran my finger around the perimeter of his mustache and goatee. "I like when you do that, Sara," he said; "You're so gentle."

"I try," I said.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too, Sean." I decided not to ask him about the remark he made as he came, at least not now. I just wanted to lie there with him and feel the love he was giving me. I returned it in kind.

We held each other until we fell asleep. Everything will be clearer in the morning.

Sometime during the night, Sean got up and took a shower. He usually took one before bed, but with the activities of earlier, he didn't get the chance to. I heard the shower running, but I had to get up to pee.

"Sean? I need to use the bathroom," I said as I walked in. Sean said okay and I sat down on the commode. When I was finished, I flushed and hoped that didn't affect the temperature in the shower. It didn't, as Sean didn't say anything.

Before I left the bathroom, Sean called my name. "Yes?" I asked.

"Where you want to go for breakfast?"

"Not McDonald's. Some place where we can sit down and eat at a normal pace, instead of in a hurry."

"Okay."

"But I have to go back to sleep." I looked at my watch and saw that it was only four.

"I'll see you when I get out of the shower."

I got back into bed and wondered why Sean sounded so down in the dumps. I knew at times that he could get in one of his "moods", and maybe this was one of those. I wondered if I had possibly done anything to upset him.

A few minutes later, Sean rejoined me in bed, though I was almost asleep. I felt him put his arms around me, and kiss my neck. Realizing, perhaps, that I was asleep, he whispered "I love you, Sara," in my ear. Then he laid down and held me close to him. Just before I fell asleep completely, I heard him snore.

When we got up later that morning, Sean still seemed preoccupied. We packed our stuff back into the trunk of the Camaro, and went to find a place to have an unhurried breakfast. We ended up at the little diner next to the motel we stayed in the first night.

There were only six tables in the diner, and five of them were occupied. We were told to seat ourselves and someone would be with us momentarily.

While we were waiting, I asked Sean why he seemed so preoccupied over the last day or so. What he told me took me by surprise.

Before he came back to the campsite to meet me, he called his ex-wife in Wisconsin. Her birthday was coming up and he wanted to wish her a good day in case he didn't get another chance to call. I knew the divorce was her idea, and that Sean still cared for her.

They were talking, and Sean must have said something that pissed of his ex, because she began a barrage of bitching about how he failed her in their marriage. That it was his fault they couldn't have children, his fault that her family didn't like him, his fault that he didn't satisfy her in bed...and it went on and on for about five minutes, until Sean hung up in disgust.

Although he was angry, the words stayed with him the rest of the workday, playing over and over in his head. His ex had a way of twisting things around to make herself feel better, and she took her frustrations out on Sean.

I wasn't upset that he called her, because he had a life before we met. I was still on friendly terms with my own ex, so I didn't begrudge Sean this. What upset me is that her cruel words upset Sean. It'd came to a head while he and I were making love the night before, when he said he didn't deserve me. I gathered from Sean that something else his ex said was, "no decent woman will ever have anything to do" with him when they learned of his past, that he was so stupid that his next wife (if there was one) would have to be even more stupid than she thought he was.

"See Sara," Sean said, "you're so beautiful and talented and educated. I don't know what you see in a thug like me."

A thug? "I don't think you're a thug, or stupid, or any of those other terrible things your ex said you were. What I see in you is something that your ex probably has never seen: your heart. I've seen compassion in some of the things you do. You care about people, and want to help those who truly need it."

"I know I try to be a nice person," Sean said. "But, I know that sometimes I can be a pain in the ass, too."

"That's half the battle right there," I said; "knowing that you have some faults. We all have faults. What we need to do is recognize our faults, what triggers them, and try to avoid that which brings it on. I think you're doing a great job getting along with these people. If I didn't think you were a good person inside and out, I wouldn't be here."

A waitress came and took our order, then Sean said, "I knew there was something about you I really liked. You and I really are alike in some ways."

"This is true," I said; "And age, education, or looks are secondary. The measure of a man is in his deeds, not his looks."

"You're getting vaguely biblical on me, Sara," Sean said, smiling for the first time all morning. I touched his hand, and he just looked at it. Then he looked up at me. "Thank you," was all he said.

"For what?"

"For caring enough to give me a chance."

"It's not just you, Sean," I said; "It's us. You and me. This relationship takes two to work, and as long as we both work at it, we'll be unstoppable."

Our breakfast order arrived just then (what bad timing on the part of the waitress, I thought), so we started to eat. There would be plenty of time to finish this conversation. For now, we concentrated on what lay ahead for the day. The fair opened tomorrow.

We got to the lot around nine, and work call for Sean and the others was at ten. We went over to the campsite, and everyone from Unit Three was there. Andy had the checks for the ride jocks, and everyone cheered. I knew there were some of our group that were completely broke, so the money would be a great help.

"Check this out," Sean said to me. "No room and board fees this week. We're fifty scoots richer!"

Steve came over to us and tried to hand Sean a twenty. "What's this for, Steve?"

"When you and Sara bought us breakfast the other day. I can't just let you buy us stuff."

"Sure you can. Now put that thing away before someone else takes it."

Steve put the twenty away and shook his head. I knew what he was trying to do, and I'm glad someone thought they owed us something, even if we did buy him and his girl breakfast of our own free will.

What comes around goes around.

The midway was nearly complete. All the rides and games were set up, and there were some vendors with their wares setting up shop today. One vendor set up their booth right in front of our campsite (which was behind this haunted train ride that made lots of noise when it was running). Their merchandise were these hand-knit sweaters from someplace like Equador or Panama, and they were gorgeous! But, man, they were not cheap!

Sean and the others went to their various rides/games. They were expecting to be done before noon or one o'clock. I was told I needed to get a show badge, so I went over to the midway office and filled out some forms. I asked if I would be a paid employee of the show, and I was told, no, that I was only doing this so they could be covered in case I got hurt on the lot.

The badge had my name on it, and a picture was taken as well. Under my name was the word "maintenance".

"Why does this say maintenance?" I asked the secretary, a woman named Jeanne.

"That's what Helen told me to put. You are the one who fixed the two kiddie rides, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, but I'm not a part of any maintenance crew. I usually work in a fried dough booth with Unit Three."

"You'll be doing maintenance while you're with us," Jeanne told me. "All the electronic stuff involving circuit boards. Helen gave me your cell phone number in case we need you."

"Oh," I said. "I wasn't told that would be on call."

"You can talk to Helen about that. She was very pleased with your work."

I told Jeanne that I could do the on call thing, but only if the job had to do with circuit boards or soldering. I wouldn't pickup trash or anything like that.

Jeanne said she understood, and that Helen would only have me summoned for those reasons.

I took my badge and left the trailer where the midway office was located and went back to the campsite. The only person there was Jenny and some guy I'd never met. They were in her tent, talking.

"Hey Sara," Jenny called out to me when she saw my feet pass by the tent flap.

I bent down and pulled the flap aside and said hello. I held my hand out to the guy and said, "Hi, I'm Sara."

He shook my hand and said his name was Pete, and that he was the ride jock that ran the 1001 Nights that was in front, and to the left, of the campsite.

"You're not the same Sara that worked on the Zamps are you?"

"Damn, word gets around fast here, doesn't it?!" I said, surprised. "Yes, I'm that Sara."

"What brings you to carnival life?"

"My boyfriend is running the Tilt-a-Whirl this spot, and I have the wheels to get around."

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Sean, but everyone here calls him Scooby."

Pete recognized the name. "Oh I've seen him. He's a big guy with tattoos and wears a green Budweiser cap."

"Yeah, he's the one."

Jenny jumped into the conversation, saying to Pete, "Sara is the one who owns the orange Camaro you admired."

Pete raised his eyebrows. "That Camaro SS is your car? What is it, a '69 or '70?"

"A '69. And, yes, the Camaro is mine."

Pete asked if I did any of the restoration work, and I said, no, that my brother owned the car before me, and any work done to restore it was done by him.

"It's an awesome car, Sara. Do you enter it in shows?"

"My brother used to do that, but I haven't yet."

"You should, it'd win all kinds of awards." I told him that I had thought about it, especially since I've seen other Camaroes in car shows at the various fairs I've been to that I thought didn't look as good as mine did.

"Right now, she needs a good scrubbin'," I said. "Too many dusty roads."

"If there's a lot of something around here, dust is definitely it."

Pete and Jenny were looking at each other in that way, and I took the hint and left. I went over to the car. I don't know what made me make a visual inspection, and I saw something familiar. Something I'd seen twice before that summer.

Someone tried to break into the trunk. The lock was damaged, but not broken.

I went back over to Jenny's tent, but she and Pete weren't there. Hank, Sr. was however.

"Hank, did you see anyone over by my car anytime this afternoon?"

"Not really. Just that guy that Jenny's hooked up with. Why?"

I told him that I thought someone had tried to break into the trunk, and I knew it wasn't like that when Sean and I put our stuff in the trunk at the motel.

"I'm not accusing anyone, I just want some answers."

"Don't blame ya, Sara. I'd want to know if someone tried to break into my truck."

Since there was no one else around, I didn't go around looking for someone to blame. That would have been pointless anyway, because it could have been anyone. Sean and I were the only ones with the keys.

I walked back over to the car and inspected the damage further. The paint was scratched, and the lock looked like some of the metal was bent, but I could still put a key in it and open it, albeit with some difficulty.

"What's wrong with the car, Sara?" Sean's voice startled me. I jumped. Sean apologized, saying he didn't mean to scare me.

"Look at the lock on the trunk, babe." Sean looked, and he wasn't happy with what he saw.

"When did this happen?"

"Sometime after we got here, and before I got back from getting my show ID."

"Who would be stupid enough to try and break into the car?"

"It's anyone's guess. There's minimal damage, and I can still open the trunk with the key. I'll have someone fix the damage when I get home."

"Still, it pisses me off that someone thought it would be cute to break into this particular car," Sean said, trying, and failing, to keep the anger out of his voice. "It wasn't like this when we left the motel or the diner this morning."

"Should we talk to Andy about this? He said that if we had any trouble here to talk to him."

"Yeah," Sean said, "but he's off the lot. He went back to Unit Three to take care of an emergency with one of his joints."

Sean and I decided that we'd keep quiet for the time being, but we would tell Andy when he returned from Massachusetts.

More of our group were returning from their respective rides or games, and since it was only around twelve-thirty, a group of us decided to drive around town. We though we might do some shopping since everyone except me got paid today (I'd been paid the day before), so we were looking for a mall. No one wanted to go to Wal-Mart or K-Mart.

With Sean behind the wheel, we drove off the lot with Autumn, Steve, and Doc in the back seat. Sean turned on the radio, and had me search for a station that everyone could agree on. Those of us who like rock, didn't like rap; if it was rap, didn't like pop. It was a frustrating process. Finally, I thought, aw screw it, I'm just going to put the damned thing on the next station I heard. Soon, it was this I heard,

Sean said, "Change that!"

"I like this band," I said. It's my car, too, don't forget, I thought, but kept my mouth shut.

No one in the back seat said anyone, so I kept looking, and found that annoying song by Nelly called Dilemma.

"Oh Lord," Autumn said, "if I hear that song again I think I may throw up!" The carousel was near another ride that played music as the ride ran, and Dilemma was played constantly, along with Hot in Herre and almost every song Britney Spears had put out to date. That would drive me batty, too, I think.

Not too long after we all settled on a station to listen to, Doc just happened to look out the window and said he thought he saw a mall.

"Where?" Sean asked. By this time, we'd passed it, so Doc replied, "Back there."

Sean made a U turn at the next signal and doubled back. Sure enough, there was a mall, so we drove into the parking lot. After parking near a door where we could easily find the car when we were through, we got out and went inside.

It didn't look too promising, but we walked around anyway. It was quite air conditioned, and I was cold since I was wearing a bustier top. I really began to wish I had worn something else. I was actually shivering.

There were actually some pretty good stores and we went into this one that had all the hip-hop clothing that Sean could stand. He was like a little kid in a candy store. He quickly found some clothes that he really wanted.

He tried on a pair of black Roca Wear jeans, and while they fit in the waist, they were a mile too long. "Are these too long?" Sean asked. I told him they were, and asked if they had some that weren't so long. Sean looked, and they didn't have any that were not as long. So, he took the ones he tried on, saying that he could roll them up. He then got a Roca Wear shirt in a burnt orange, and a Texas Longhorns ball cap (after I moved to Oklahoma, I found that the Longhorns were especially hated by Sooners fans) he only got because it was nearly the same color as the shirt. He also got a pair of black Fubu sneakers.

"Babe, you going to buy something?" he asked me.

"I don't know if I'll buy something here."

Sean looked around at the ladies clothing, and found something he thought I might like. It was a Roca Wear hoodie and sweat pants in a light pink color.

It looked nice, but I just didn't do pink. I didn't do labels, either, but Sean asked me to at least try them on. So, I did, and I had to admit that it didn't look too bad, even in light pink. Sean thought they looked nice, too, and added that to his order as well. I told him I'd pay for it, but he wouldn't hear of it. "You're my girl, Sara. I want to do this for you," he said.

I said okay rather reluctantly, but let him buy the outfit, and a pair of white Fubu sneakers that looked like his black ones. I felt incredibly guilty. I swore to myself when I divorced that I wouldn't allow myself to be financially dependent on a man again. After examining it further, though, I didn't see the harm in letting Sean buy me some clothes. It's not like I was going to make a habit of it. I made my own money, and I could buy my own things.

As we left the store, we decided to go to a Subway we had seen when we first came into the mall. I thanked Sean for the outfit and the shoes. He had a grin a mile wide on his face when I said that. He was proud that he had bought his lady something she liked.

"I want to buy lunch though," I said. When Sean started to protest, I put my hand up and said, "Stop. You just bought nearly $150.00 worth of clothes. At least let me spend fifteen bucks for lunch!"

Sean laughed and said okay. We went into Subway, and we met (totally by chance) Doc and Steve there. Autumn was in another store looking for a certain type of jacket.

Sean couldn't wait to tell them about the outfit he bought for me. He was really pleased with himself, and told the guys that I "looked so cute" in the pink outfit. I was getting self-conscious about this, and kept telling Sean, "oh, stop!"

He kissed my bare shoulder, and gave me a wink. He was being very playful, and I was glad to see that, given his mood from the night before.

Autumn later found us, but she was empty-handed. She couldn't find the jacket she was looking for. She wanted to go to Wal-Mart later and see if there was something similar there.

Sean told Autumn about the outfit he had bought me, and she wanted to see it. Sean took it out of the bag with much fanfare, showing her the jacket, then the pants. She ooh'ed and aah'ed and told me that she wanted to see it on me when we got back to the lot.

We finished our sandwiches, then walked around the mall for a little while longer, then we headed to Wal-Mart to see if the jacket Autumn was looking for was there.

We got back in the car and headed back up towards Wal-Mart. Autumn didn't find the jacket, but she did buy some other things she needed. As we headed out into the parking lot, we noticed a semi and a trailer with the M&M's characters and the NASCAR theme for driver Ken Schrader. When we asked what the trailer was for, we were told that it was two racing simulators and that the public would be allowed to try them out for free in a promotional tour across New England. There would be M&M's posters and other paraphernalia given away as well.

What the hell, we thought, and went in to try the simulators. I didn't really do all that well, but I had never been good at car racing computer games.

I remembered to bring a disposable camera, and Sean wanted me to take his picture in front of the trailer. I did, then he took a picture of me as well. He also wanted to take a picture of me in the new outfit he bought for me.

After everyone who wanted to got a turn on the simulators, we decided to head back to the lot. I was getting pretty sleepy, and had fallen asleep almost as soon as we left the parking lot. Sean woke me up when we got back to the campsite on the lot.

"You tired, baby?"

"Yeah, guess so."

"You missed the big discussion. Autumn and Steve invited us to stay in their tent for the rest of the spot, and I told them I'd talk to you about it."

"What about blankets and stuff," I said; "It's going to be cold tonight."

"Autumn said they had extras, and she bought another air mattress so we don't have to sleep on the ground. Hank, Sr. is letting them borrow one of his heaters so we won't freeze."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea, Sean," I said; "It beats trying to sleep in the Camaro."

Sleeping in the Camaro was not something I looked forward to. A tent sounded much more hospitable.

Sean went to tell Autumn that we accepted her and Steve's offer to sleep in their tent, then we walked around the midway while it was still quiet, because tomorrow, the fair would open and everything would be chaos.

Sean said he'd been thinking about what I told him at breakfast that morning, about knowing what your faults were and trying to correct them. He said that he realized what his ex said was mean and spiteful on her part, and that she knew how to really hurt him.

I asked if that was part of the reason they divorced, and he said yes, but, "I was no angel, either, Sara. I was just as mean."

"We all say mean things to the people we care about sometimes," I said. "When our feelings are hurt, we lash out and say stuff we later regret."

"I doubt Anne regretted anything she said to me," Sean said. "She was getting all her ammo from her family. I think they turned her against me when they found out I'd been in jail."

"Well, then, that's their problem now, isn't it?"

Sean said he guessed so, but he really did care for her and wanted to make a life for the both of them. She just stopped trying.

"You're not upset that I talked to her, Sara?"

"No, why should I be? You had a life before we met, and I can't take that from you. It's part of your history. I still talk to my ex occasionally. Would you have a problem with that?"

"Of course not."

"Okay, then..."

As we walked around the midway, I almost couldn't wait for the fair to open. I felt the same excitement I did when I was a child looking forward to the county fair. There was so much to see and do, and for the first time since I joined up with the show, I was going to have a bit of free time on my hands. I knew I better enjoy it, because when we rejoined our unit on Cape Cod the following weekend, I'm going to be back to working like a dog.

I was in Autumn's tent, changing my clothes. Luckily, the tent was big enough that I could stand up, so changing into the outfit Sean bought for me that afternoon, I didn't feel like I was becoming a contortionist.

I came out to show the others my new threads, and Sean's face lit up with pride. Everyone else thought it looked good on me.

Sean was wearing his new clothes, too, and he looked great. "Stylin'" was the word Sean used to describe his look. He wanted to go into town to this little pizza joint called Angie's and try it out.

"Just think, babe," he told me, "here we are in our phat ride, our stylin' duds, and we're going to a little pizza place where no one will see us."

"Maybe when we get to Harwich, we can show off more for the people who we usually work with." For now, I was just happy that Sean and I would be alone, even though we were dressed up with really no place to go.

When we got to the pizza place, it wasn't exactly empty. There were small groups of kids hanging around, talking, playing video games, doing the things teenagers do. There was quite a bit of noise, then we walked in and it got quiet.

When they realized we were strangers, they went back to their activities and paid us no mind. Sean ordered the pizza and some sodas (they didn't serve beer), and we went to sit at the only available table. A couple of teenage boys walked by our table, and Sean said hello to them. They kind of half waved then moved on, as if they didn't know how to just say hello back.

"How come I got the feeling that they acted like their parents just walked in the door?" Sean asked.

"I don't know, Sean. Maybe they're wary of strangers coming into their hangout."

"They have us pegged as carnies, I'll betcha anything."

"So what if they have, we have as much right to be here as they do," I said. "Quit trying to make mountains out of molehills."

"Oh, God, Sara," Sean said, laughing, "my daddy used to say that!"

"Well, my mother was raised in Arkansas. I've heard it my whole life. I have a bunch more where that came from."

The pizza was delivered to our table, and it wasn't half bad. The teenagers kept looking over our way, and I could see why Sean made the comment about them having identified us as carnies. They kept staring at us, trying to decide if they should dare to approach. Sean and I ate and kept talking, ignoring them. Finally, one brave girl approached our table.

"Do you have kids that go to Hebron High?" she asked.

"No," I said. "We're just visiting town for the fair."

"Oh," the girl said. "You look like one of the girls at school."

"I see," I replied. "I don't have any kids in high school now." My boys were in third and sixth grades. My daughter just started her sophomore year of college.

The girl said "oh..." again. Then she apologized and said that her friends were mistaken, that they thought we were the parents of a girl they knew. Then she walked back to her own table, and I saw that she was blushing at her apparent faux pas.

Sean just rolled his eyes. "Do I look older than I am?"

I said I didn't think so, but we balanced each other out, age-wise.

We finished our pizza and left the restaurant. There wasn't anywhere else we could think to go, so we went back to the lot. When we got there, Andy had returned from Unit Three's current spot, so we told him of the apparent attempt to break into my trunk.

"There's an alarm, so they probably got freaked out when it went off," I said. "But just the fact that someone tried upsets me."

"I don't blame you for feeling that way, Sara," Andy said. "I'll make some inquiries around the lot, but I can't promise anything."

I said I understood. I didn't want to press charges, because nothing was taken and there was no real damage. It was just the attempt that pissed me off. It was because of just that, having the car broken into twice before, that I got the car alarm. At least the stupid thing had paid for itself in peace of mind.

At the campsite, everyone was sitting around drinking beer and smoking their weed of choice. There were some Unit One guys there (don't any women work in this unit, besides Helen, Jeanne and D.J.?) that Hank, Jr. had invited, and Jenny's friend, Pete, was there as well.

"Hey, who owns that Camaro SS over there?" someone asked. I couldn't see the person speaking because they were sitting behind the lamp that Hank, Sr. set up.

"The Camaro is mine," I said, putting in as much attitude as I thought was appropriate. "Why you ask?"

"It's a nice looking car. Not one you'd find on a carnival lot."

Well of course not, I thought. I didn't buy the car from my brother five years earlier just so it would look like something you wouldn't find on a carnival lot.

Instead, I just said, "Thanks."

Sean had me sit next to him on someone's cooler and handed me a Pepsi (it was one of the 24-pack I bought in Maine. I was surprised we still had some left). I got, "aw c'mon, Sara, have a beer."

"Sara and Budweiser are strangers, and she'd like to keep it that way," Sean said as he took a pull on his beer. "And, I don't mind that she doesn't drink. As she's fond of sayin', 'if I'm gonna do somethin' stupid, I wanna remember it'."

I laughed at that, as did several of the others. It's weird to hear your own words repeated in conversation by someone else. And, believe me, I've done plenty of stupid things without the aid of alcohol, some of which I'd like to forget.

As the hour got late, and with reminders that morning heralded the opening of the fair, the group broke up, and those of us who were camping here were getting ready for bed.

I went to use the doniker (aka "portapotty"), then came back to the tent. Sean was ready for bed, wearing his undershirt and boxers. I wore my nightshirt and a pair of grey sweats. We snuggled under the blankets that Autumn provided, and soon were asleep. As long as we stayed in the tent, we were fine, but as soon as someone had to get up and head outside, it was cold. The grass was wet, too, as Sean figured out when he ventured out wearing just socks on his feet. ("Aw, fuck!")

Someone had a radio on somewhere...

Oh, Lord. I put the pillow over my head wishing I could drown out that stupid song. I didn't care if I ever heard that song again when this was all over.

"Someone shut that damn Nelly song off!" Steve said sleepily. "I am so fuckin sick of it!"

The sun was bright and streaming into the tent through the open flap. We all figured it was time to get up. Sean just pulled on one of the pairs of black Wal-Mart jeans over his boxers, and threw his show shirt on. He ran his fingers through his dark curls ("I really need a fuckin haircut, Sara..."), and put the green Budweiser hat on. He was then out the door (um, flap?) so Autumn and I could finish dressing. Steve was already waiting outside.

Once we were all ready to go, we headed over to the cookshack. Steve thought the guys who ran Unit One's cookshack were much better than Paul was. The food wasn't that bad either. At least, Steve said, no one was puking into trash cans all the time.

There weren't too many places to sit once we got there, and once we had our food, we pretty much had to stand to eat.

There were some ride jocks at the tables, and none of them thought to offer me and Autumn their seats. One was Old Tom, the guy who kept telling me that I was doing the soldering all wrong.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable standing there. I couldn't put my finger on it. Then, someone mentioned the '69 Camaro behind the Haunted House ride.

"Yeah, it's a cool lookin' car. I hear some chick owns it. It's orange with white stripes. Have you seen it? Man, I'd love to have a car like that."

"Maybe she'll sell it to ya." The guy who said this was laughing, perhaps knowing that his buddy could never afford a nice car like that. Hell, I made payments to my brother for six months for it. And, hell no, it ain't for sale!

"Nah...I hear that big guy from Unit Three is her old man, so you know he ain't gonna let her do that."

"Oh, that Scooby guy who's runnin' the Tilt this spot? Yeah, he's pretty much an asshole. He talks big."

Sean tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to him and put my finger up to my lips to silence him. "They're talkin' about us," I whispered.

The conversation goes on about how much of an asshole they thought Sean was, and what did that Sara chick see in him? And why does she have such a cool car? Who'd she have to screw to get it?

I could see Sean's face get red, and I knew he was getting pissed. The group talking still didn't catch on that we were listening in. They were talking loud enough, it wasn't hard. Shit, people out in town could probably hear them.

Someone in their group suggested they go over to that car and slash the tires to get back at Scooby for being a jerk. The guy who started the conversation said, "Nah...the car's got an alarm. It's loud as shit!"

Sean and I just looked at each other. Maybe they're the ones who tried to break into the trunk the day before. How else would they know about the loud car alarm?

I walked up to their table and sat down at an empty space. "Mind if I join y'all?"

They looked at me like they'd seen a ghost. They all got up at the same time and left. I saw them throw their trash away and walk right past Sean. That told me that, though they thought Scooby was an asshole and a jerk, they had no clue what he looked like. They just knew he was the big guy from Unit Three.

After they were out of sight, Sean sat down next to me. "Oh, man," he laughed, "they got spooked when you sat down. They knew you were the owner of the Camaro they wanted to slash the tires on."

"I can't prove it though. It would be my word against theirs. I don't think they have the cajones to mess with the car. They know about the alarm."

Some old dude named Dave came and sat down at our table. He was the midway manager I spoke to on the phone before we left Springfield. I recognized his voice when he asked if the seats were taken.

He looked at Sean and said, "You're one of the ride jocks from Unit Three aren't you?" When Sean said yes, Dave said, "There'll be a meeting at eleven. Pass the word on to the others in your group. Everyone needs to attend."

Sean said he'd tell the rest of our group about the meeting, and that we'd all be there. Dave said that was fine. Then he asked Sean if he knew Sara Cyr.

"You're looking at her," I said.

Dave's reaction was priceless. Just like Helen, I apparently wasn't what he expected. Still, he held out his hand, and I shook it. "Nice to finally meet you, Sara," he said. "Helen told me what a fantastic job you did fixing the circuit board problem with the Zamps. I guess I should have been more open-minded when Andy told he had a girl who could solder."

Maybe, I thought. "It was no problem. I was glad I could be of some assistance." I had a feeling there was another job in the offing, though.

"You're on call this spot in case we need anything fixed," Dave said; "As you probably can guess, a lot of our newer rides depend on circuit boards for their operation. Electronics is a big thing now. We don't have anyone on our maintenance crew who can solder, so we usually have to get someone from the outside."

And this was leading where? I thought it, and I know Sean was thinking it, too.

Nowhere, it turned out. Dave just wanted to meet the mysterious Sara Cyr who came over with the Unit Three group. He soon got up and took his leave, again reminding Sean of the meeting at eleven, which was an hour and a half away.

After he was gone, and we had gotten up and started back to the campsite, Sean said, "That was anti-climactic. I was waiting for the guy to offer you a job, and for you to turn him down."

"If he had, I would have turned it down. I don't want to be stuck with Unit One without you."

"I'd leave the show before I'd let that happen," Sean said as he kissed me. "We'd go back to your place in Mass. and I'd get a job somewhere."

Hmmm...Sean and me in my little apartment in Lawrence with Columbus the Wonder Cat. Sounded like fun to me.

The eleven o'clock meeting was the same as the one we'd been to in Springfield the week before, just a recitation of the safety and personal conduct rules. There had been some animosity between certain Unit One members and those of us visiting from Unit Three. Specifically mentioned was the attempt to break into the car of a Unit Three member. The Unit One midway manager, Dave, told his people that "the folks from Unit Three are our guests, and they will be treated like everyone else you meet. There may be some personality differences, but as professionals, we have to put personal differences aside.

"The folks from Unit Three didn't have to come to help us out. They were hand picked because of their skills, and were given the option not to come. Because they want to see this fair succeed, they came. So if I hear that someone from Unit Three has been harassed, or their property has been tampered with, I will find out."

I heard the word "snitch" from several of the Unit One folks. They were wondering, no doubt, which Unit Three members said anything. I know I made a big stink to Andy about my car, but I didn't think that would be mentioned. Dave essentially threatened his people. I didn't agree with that tactic, but I had no say in the matter.

The meeting broke up with Dave saying that there would be meetings each day two hours before the fair opened. The fair opened that evening at six. So, be there at four, or suffer the consequences.

As our group walked back to our campsite, we commented that the midway manager was one tough S.O.B. I said that I didn't like it that he had to threaten his crew, but maybe that's the only thing those people understood.

"I'm glad that we're not part of this unit," Steve said. "These people are assholes!"

"I thought the people in our unit were bad," said Autumn. "They're angels compared to these guys."

Most of Andy's people were at their joints, getting their games ready. Sean and the other ride jocks were preparing for opening by making sure everything worked properly and safely. I went back to the Camaro to see that it was still there and in one piece.

There was a piece of paper under the windshield wiper. It was a parking pass, so I could get on and off the lot without having to fork over the three dollars for parking. It had the car's description and the plate number on it. I took it from under the wiper and placed inside the car on the dashboard. I had been told I would get one, but didn't know when I would get it.

I was the only one at loose ends. I was still "on call" if there needed to be some maintenance done, but I really had nothing to do. My cell phone was switched on, and the ringer on the loudest setting, and I knew that when the carnival was in full swing, I probably wouldn't hear it. I really wished I had a vibrating ringer.

I had to find something to occupy my time. I didn't want to leave the lot, but I didn't want to hang out on the midway either. The only thing on the midway that interested me was Sean, and he would be busy.

Luckily, I had my books. True, I had read all of them more than once, but I always enjoyed reading. I always found something new, even in a book I'd read seven or eight times. I liked to write as well. I had been keeping a journal of my carnival experiences. I tried to write every night, but sometimes, like now, I had to write about several days at one sitting. I might never do anything with my carnival stories, but I thought my kids might want to see how I spent the summer of '02 one of these days. It was for them, my two boys especially, that I kept the journal.

It was about two in the afternoon when Sean and the others returned to the campsite. Sean came into the tent and asked what I'd found to do.

"I wrote in my journal, mostly. Read, walked around, took a short nap," I said; "Nothing exciting. The phone didn't ring."

"Ahh..." Sean said as he sat next to me on the air mattress, "I wondered about that."

"Sean, I'm going to get really bored, aren't I?"

"Possibly."

"You're a comfort, ya know that?" I said as I playfully knocked his Bud hat off his head.

"Hey, watch the hat there, girly!" He wrestled me onto my back and kissed me.

The four o'clock meeting was boring, and I tuned most of it out. I decided that since this was the first night, I'd go see some of the exhibits and events, then wander around the midway for a while. The fair would be open from six to eleven that night, then ten a.m. to ten p.m. on Saturday, and on Sunday, from ten a.m. to eight p.m. Our group was to be in Harwich, Massachusetts by noon on Tuesday, September tenth. If we could get there earlier, all the better.

Straight up at six, the gates opened, and the throng filtered in. In what seemed like seconds, the midway was packed. And, packed it stayed until it closed at eleven.

I went and saw tractor pulls and riding lawn mower races. Then I checked out the homecraft exhibits, then went onto the midway.

There was dueling music on several of the major rides; there was Britney on one ride (...hit me baby one more time); Missy Elliott on another (is it worth it/gotta work it...); Godsmack on yet another (I'm not the one who's so far away/ when I feel the snake bite enter my veins...). Over at the Tilt-a-Whirl, where Sean was, he had a radio/tape player playing his beloved hip-hop.

He was sharing the operating duties with a Unit One ride jock, who took very long breaks. That, understandably, was beginning to piss Sean off. If he wanted to take a break to go to the bathroom, for example, he either had to wait til the guy decided to return, or close the ride. By the end of the night, Sean was fit to be tied. Of the five hours the midway was open, the other guy worked maybe an hour.

As soon as I saw Sean, I knew he was mad. The first thing he said was, "Where's Andy?"

"Check his trailer," Hank, Sr. said. "He'll probably be there." Then, to me, he said as Sean stalked off, "What's his beef, Sara?"

"He was working with this Unit One ride jock, and this guy took advantage of the situation by not coming back from his break. If Scooby had to go to the bathroom, he had to close the ride down until he came back."

"What an ass!" Hank, Sr. said. "Scooby has every right to be pissed."

As others filtered into the campsite, they all had their horror stories to tell. Everyone was getting screwed by Unit One! Andy was going to have his hands full of complaints.

Andy and Sean came back to the campsite. Andy called an impromptu meeting. He spoke about what had happened to Sean, and asked if anyone else had similar experiences that night. Everyone started talking at once. That's all Andy needed to hear. "I was afraid of that," he said.

Andy said he would speak to Dave, Unit One's midway manager, in the morning. He urged everyone to calm down until he could get some kind of an explanation to why Unit One was giving our group a hard time.

"Meanwhile, gang, get some rest, tomorrow is wristband day."

Oh. Joy.

I knew Sean hadn't slept well. He tossed and turned all night long, so I knew there was something on his mind. I didn't know if it was the conversation he'd had with his ex, or what happened on the midway, or what. He had complained about a migraine before he went to sleep, so that may have been a factor as well.

The sun came up about seven, and it streamed into the tent. That was our alarm clock. We all got up and got ready for our day out on the midway. I really had to find something to do, or else I thought I'd go mad!

Sean thought we had time to go out into town for breakfast, but we had a meeting at eight, then everyone would have to go to work. We went to the cookshack and got a quick meal. There were empty tables when we got there, so we sat our butts down and ate. We talked about what had happened the night before, how the crowd was, did we have any real jerks come to the rides or games...stuff like that. Sean bitched about not being able to take a meal break (I had been bringing him food from the cookshack) and about the guy who was supposed to be helping out on the Tilt.

"He was supposed to give me my breaks, and every time I saw him, I'd ask about it, and he'd say he'd be back, then never fuckin came back!"

Autumn: "The girl who was supposed to give me my breaks acted like she was doing me a big favor by showing up."

Steve: "I had no idea who was supposed to relieve me for breaks. Someone different showed up each time I went."

The only one of the ride jocks who didn't have problems was Doc. He was running one of the Zamps I had repaired, and someone was there to take over on his breaks. Autumn thought it was because he was down there near the Show Office, where they could possibly keep an eye on things.

"I guess," Doc said. "I never thought about it that way, but I suppose you could be right."

Since this seemed to be a problem, why didn't someone think to train me on one or two of the rides, then I could do breaks? Sean thought it was because I had that "on call" status with the maintenance crew. Being "on call" wasn't all it was cracked up to be because I essentially had nothing to do. When I wasn't checking my phone to see if it had rung and I hadn't heard it, then I was taking my self guided tour of the fairgrounds, or fetching food for Sean.

At about five to eight, the other people wandered into the seating area near the cookshack. I wondered what kind of a tongue-lashing Dave would give today. But, Dave was calm, and went over some of the things that happened the day before.

Then he said, "Those of you who were assigned to break other operators need to be more diligent in doing so. There were several people who didn't get breaks because their relief never showed up, or showed up late. Closing a ride because the operator has to take a bathroom break is unacceptable. You need to check with the person you're breaking to see if they need to take care of things like that and if they need a meal break. I don't want to hear any more about this tonight, or heads will roll."

(Okay, then, there was a threat. Boy this guy's a piece of work!)

Dave also said that because the anniversary of the September 11th attacks were coming up the following week, that we had to be alert for people wanting to do harm. Apparently, there had been some noise made about a disturbance at the fair.

(God, was that a year ago already? It seemed like it just happened!)

Dave then dismissed the group and everyone went to their respective rides/games/posts. Dave saw me and pulled me aside and told me that I was going to be on security detail. That pretty much meant that I would stand at one of the gates and check people for anything that could be used as a weapon. I would also be walking the midway looking for troublemakers. I would have a radio, so that I could call in any problems.

I had zero experience with security, I told him. He told me that someone would train me briefly, then partner with me throughout the day. I took the assignment (Dave gave me the option to decline) only because it would give me something to do. If my cell were to ring because of a maintenance problem, then that would take priority.

I said okay, and was told to report to the Show Office nine-thirty. I then went over to the Tilt to tell Sean of this latest development.

"You're going to do what?" he asked, alarmed. "Whatever gave that Dave dude the idea you could do security?"

"I don't know, but it sounds like they're just looking for more bodies to give the appearance of a strong security presence," I told Sean, "but I'm going to be doing something instead of sitting around the campsite bored outta my gourd."

"I guess that's the important thing," Sean said. "What about the on call thing?"

"That would take priority if a call were to come in."

All Sean said to that was, "Oh."

"What about the guy who was supposed to break you yesterday?" I asked, changing the subject; "What's up with him?"

"I don't really give a fuck about him," Sean said. "I hope Dave tore him a new asshole. He, or someone, better break me today or I'm gonna get my shit and leave."

Of course, that meant I'd be leaving, also, since it's my car we were using.

I told Sean that I hoped things went better today, because I knew he didn't sleep well last night. "I'm sure it will," he said with a wink, "with my baby on patrol."

I smacked his backside playfully and said, "oh, stop that, Sean!" Then walked toward the Show Office to get whatever Unit One called "training".

The "training" was not all that much info that I didn't already know. It was mainly common sense. I was just keeping an eye out for trouble making kids. I would be partnered with an off duty Hebron cop, so if there was any real trouble, then she'd be able to make arrests.

Mostly, it was a very boring detail, as there wasn't much going on, and the kids pretty much kept themselves in line. I was almost praying for my cell phone to ring. But it stayed silent.

Damn.

I did go by the various rides and asked Sean, Autumn, Steve, and Doc if they were getting breaks, and they were. I guess Dave's so-called "pep talk" sunk in and his people got the message.

Shortly before the midway closed, there was a fight over by the Tilt. Two teenagers got into a shouting match that quickly escalated to a fist fight. Sean tried to break it up, but one of the teens, a kid nearly as big as Sean himself, shoved him out of the way. That only managed to piss him off. Then, he saw me and the off duty officer with whom I was partnered (her name was Danielle), and decided to let us handle it. The two boys were handcuffed and escorted to the security station behind the Show Office, where their parents were paged over the P.A. system. Sean had come with us and the police wanted to know if Sean wanted to press charges against the kid who shoved him, and he said no. I thought I knew why he decided not to do it. I asked him about it after the fracas was over and all had been more or less resolved.

"There was no point, Sara," Sean replied. "I just wanted to stop the fight because there were little kids there, and I didn't want them to get hurt."

"Maybe you should have been on security detail and I should have run the Tilt," I said.

"You did a good job, Sara."

"Thanks." I think.

Later that evening, while Sean had taken the car into town to run some errands, Jenny came over to Steve and Autumn's tent. I was the only one there at the time, writing in my journal. Jenny asked if she could come in and I said sure, and held the flap open for her. She sat down on the air mattress opposite from where I sat. I could tell she had something on her mind.

"What's up, Jenny?" I asked her. "You look like you got a lot on your mind."

"I do, Sara. That's why I'm here. I wanted to get you thoughts on something."

Okay, lay it on me."

Jenny told me that Pete wanted to leave the Show and go home to Chicago. He had gotten a job offer there, and he asked Jenny to go with him. Jenny wanted to go, because she was getting a lot of crap from Hank, Sr. about her so-called promiscuity, and she didn't appreciate it, because he wasn't her stepfather any more and that she was of age.

I asked her if she was sure she wanted to do this, because she hadn't known Pete very long, and did she know what kind of guy he was when they were alone.

"I know I haven't known him very long, but I have very strong feelings for him," Jenny said. "I just need to get out of here, and Pete wants me to come to Chicago with him. I've never been there."

"How does he treat you when you're alone with him?" I asked her.

"Like I matter. He's nice to me and says he's very fond of me. Sara, I want to do this."

"Jenny, I'm not your mother, you don't need my permission," I said.

"I just wanted your opinion, because you're kinda in the same boat. You haven't known Scooby very long."

"This is true, Jenny," I said. "But Scooby and I are older. We've both been married and divorced. We both realize that we have to work at any relationship we have. It's not all about sex."

Jenny said that's what she wanted with Pete, something like what Sean and I have. She told me that it appeared to her that Sean and I have something very special.

"I do care for Sean very much," I told Jenny, "and I want to see our relationship to succeed. However, it is going to be lots of hard work to maintain it. My parents were married for forty years before my father died. I know it wasn't always easy for them. My marriage failed, ultimately, because my ex stopped trying to make it succeed."

"Wow, forty years?" Jenny said, surprised. "My mother's been married four times! None of her marriages lasted longer than ten years."

"My marriage was sixteen years," I said. "I was very sad when it ended, because it started out with so much promise."

Jenny and I talked for about an hour or so. She said she came to me because she knew she could get straight answers from me. I told her that her decision to leave was entirely up to her. I just cautioned her that she should be very sure this is what she wanted.

She got up from the air mattress and thanked me for talking to her. I told her it was no problem, and if she needed to talk to me again that, "my tent flap is always open," and she laughed, a little relieved that she got her thoughts and concerns aired out.

As she was leaving, Sean came back from wherever he'd gone in town. He'd taken Steve, Autumn and Hank, Jr. with him, and now they all piled inside the tent.

"What did Jenny want?" Sean asked.

"Advice, mostly," I said. "She's a troubled young lady. I just hoped I helped her in some small way."

"I'm sure you did, Sara," Sean said. "You have a good head on your shoulders, and people feel comfortable coming to you."

Autumn, who'd been silent up to this point, said, "You know, I don't like Jenny all that much, but I guess she's just like the rest of us. Sometimes, we all need someone to talk to. Sara, I guess that's why everyone likes you so much. You're down to Earth."

"I'm just being me," I protested.

"Well," Sean said as he put him arm around my waist, "you just go on being you. I know I was first attracted to you because you were keepin' it real. You don't have to front. What you sees is what you gets." And, again with his crazy laugh.

After the fair closed on Sunday and before we started tear down, Jenny came to me and gave me a big hug. "What's this for, Jenny?" I asked.

"For talking to me the other night. I'm going to Chicago with Pete."

"You're sure about this, right?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

I wished her luck. I had a feeling I would never see her again. She asked for my address at home, and I gave it to her. She gave me an address in a Chicago suburb where she and Pete would be staying when they got there.

Pete walked up when he saw Jenny talking to me. He put his arm around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Jenny told me she talked to you, and I just wanted to thank you from both of us.

"You're welcome. It was no trouble at all."

"Tell Scooby he's a lucky man to have someone like you."

"I think he knows," I said, "but I'll tell him again."

The two of them walked off into the night. It would be the last I'd see of either of them. I hoped all worked out for the best. I went to my car to pack away the rest of our stuff. I remembered a once upon a time when I was younger and headed to Chicago…it seemed like a million years ago.

Maybe it was after all.