After a very restful night of sleep (and after we had sex a few more times), we all checked out of the motel and headed to the park where we were to meet the rest of our unit. It was still cold and raining, and I wondered who would be foolish to have a festival (the "Scallop Fest") in weather like this.

There was also a question of where everything was going to go. Most of the park was already cordoned off for the huge tent that would serve as the location for entertainment and the serving of scallop and chicken dinners (at $11.00 a pop!). A convict work crew from the Barnstable County Jail was hammering in stakes and aligning the supports for the tent.

That left what looked to be very little room for rides and the game joints to go. It was going to be an even tighter squeeze here than it was in Harwich. This I had to see.

The bunkhouse had arrived, but nothing else. There were cars and people in the parking lot waiting for Brian to show up to tell us what to do and expect at this spot. Everyone was outside, as for the moment, the rain had let up.

Sean and Jimmy got out of the car and joined the other guys waiting in front of the bunkhouse, while Molly and I waited in the car.

"Where'd you guys stay last night," a ride jock named De'Von asked.

"Place up the road," Jimmy said.

De'Von said he and the people he came with were stuck sleeping in their car, because there were no rooms to be found. "How the hell did you find any rooms?"

"If it weren't for my girl and Jimmy's girl, we may have had to sleep in our car, too," Sean said.

"Ahhh, that's it," De'Von said. "See, we didn't have any girls with us. Guess motels took one look at this sorry assed bunch and said no way, Jose!"

Everyone laughed, and that broke the tension that everyone was feeling. Waiting around is a major pain in the ass.

After what seemed like to everybody to be an eternity, Brian finally rolls onto the lot. He swaggers his bad-ass self out of his truck and walks over to the group of us waiting. Molly and I, along with Autumn, Diane, and Meghan (who had joined us in the car to get out of the cold), had gotten out of the Camaro to see if Brian would have anything important to say.

If you could call this important; the bunkhouse needed to be looked at. There were some broken windows (there was a broken window in our room, which Sean had complained about on a number of occasions), and leaky doors. Since it was getting colder, it was decided to have all the windows in working order and replace the weather stripping around the doors.

"In the meantime, the Show has reserved rooms at a local motel for everyone who would normally stay in the bunkhouse, and those who usually stay in tents," Brian proclaimed. He handed out directions to the motel, which was located on a rotary off Route 6. Brian further stated that the bunkhouse would be available to all occupants by Thursday.

It was only Monday, so we were looking at a three-night stay at a motel, yet we still had to report to work everyday. I asked around about Sharyn, but no one had seen her or Andy yet. Someone said they thought Andy and Sharyn would be there later today or tomorrow.

At least it wouldn't be like Harwich, where we sat around for three days with nothing to do.

I realized that if I couldn't hook up with Sharyn, I would be sitting around with nothing to do.

We headed to the motel, and I was surprised (though I probably shouldn't have been) on how small it looked from the outside. There was, however, plenty of parking, places to eat within walking distance, and a couple of stores (Big Lots, a White Hen Pantry), and -lo and behold- a Dunkin' Donuts!

There were four people to a room, and we got to pick who we wanted to share a room with, so we got paired with Autumn and Steve. We settled in, then went to explore around our home for the next three days.

The trip, one way, to the lot took about fifteen, twenty minutes. The only thing I hated about the motel was the rotary it was located on. In the three years I'd lived in Massachusetts, I had come to despise rotaries. They were confusing (especially if one was not familiar with the area) and could be dangerous. New England was the only part of the country I'd ever lived in that had these confounded things just about everywhere. Where I was raised in southern California, they were called roundabouts, and they were in out of the way places, like the desert, not all over the freakin' place like Mass. There were even a couple of small rotaries near my apartment, and my question was always, why do they need these things when you could have just a normal intersection? I could understand it near a highway like Interstate 93, but in a residential area?

But, I digress...

We drove around for a while and found a strip mall that had a post office and a supermarket. I filed those away for future reference, because at some point before the first of October, I needed to pay my rent again. All my other bills (natural gas, home phone and cell phone) I paid over the phone in Hebron.

After about an hour, we went back to the motel, and pretty much just hung out. Brian came by later and told us that there was a work call at ten the following morning. The rest of the evening was ours to do what we wished (within reason, of course), so the occupants of room eight (that was our room) ordered pizzas and sodas for delivery.

While Autumn and I were eating, Sean decided that he needed some beer. He and Steve took the car and went to the liquor store on the other side of the rotary from the motel. They soon returned with a 24-pack of Bud, Mike's Hard Lemonade, and some Doritos Cool Ranch tortilla chips. Remembering the episode from Harwich when Autumn and Steve got so drunk and got into a fight, I suggested to Autumn that she take it easy. She agreed, and only had a couple of beers. However, Steve and Sean went wild and drank the remainder of the 24-pack.

I drank a couple of the Mike's Hard Lemonades (and it wasn't that bad), but that was my limit. I went into the bathroom to pee, and when I came out, Sean said they were going to a room down the way to see Eric, Cliff and "the rest of them", as Sean put it.

I didn't want to go, so I stayed in the room and watched TV. There was really nothing on except The O'Reilly Factor on the Fox News Channel, so I watched that. So people thought Bill O'Reilly was a blowhard, the man made sense to my tired brain.

Sometime after that, I fell asleep. Sean and the others came in around one, one-thirty a.m., and they were totally drunk. I wouldn't have had any fun at their party. Sean was pissed of at someone or about something, but wouldn't tell me what, so I get it go. He got into bed, fully clothed, and fell asleep (maybe he passed out, I'm not sure).

Next thing I know, Sean is shaking me awake. "Sara...Sara? You awake?"

"I am now, Sean. Is it morning?" I looked towards the window and see that it is still dark. "What the hell time is it?"

"Four-thirty."

"Why'd you wake me up, Sean?"

"I gotta tell you something."

Uh-oh. I didn't like the sound of that.

"What do you have to tell me?"

"Can we go outside?"

I said sure, so we got up, I got dressed, and we went out to the car. Sean sat in the passengers seat. I figured if we were going to go anywhere, I'd have to drive because Sean had been drinking.

"Sara, I did something stupid last night."

I really didn't like the sound of that.

"What did you do?" I asked, apprehensively. Oh, Lord, please tell me he didn't sleep with some other girl...

Sean told me that when he, Steve and Autumn went down the hall to Eric and Cliff's room, there was a lot of drinking and pot smoking there. Everyone was either high, drunk, or a little of both. Then someone pulled out some cocaine, and laid some lines down on a table. Anyone who was interested could indulge.

"I did two lines, Sara. I don't know why I did it. But now I feel guilty about it, because I'd been drinking and I don't know how that will react."

All I could do is stare at him like he'd lost his mind. Sean went on further to say that he knows I must be disappointed in him (the understatement of the decade!), and that it would never happen again. And, no, nothing else happened, because someone had mentioned my name in passing as knowing that what Sean had done would not make me happy. At the time, Sean brushed it off, but as he sobered up, he realized that what he did was stupid.

"I don't do drugs, Sara. All those times that you went to bed early and I stayed out, I wasn't doing drugs, nor was I screwing around on you. You gotta believe me. I'd never hurt you like that."

I still didn't know what to say or how to react. What I did see was a very scared Sean, looking at me for forgiveness. All I could think of to say was, "Why?"

"Because I was being stupid trying to impress people."

"You were trying to impress people by snorting coke?"

"Yes, as stupid as that sounds, that's what I was doing. I wish I'd never done it now."

"Sean," I began, "I don't know what to say. I'm disappointed, yes. I thought you knew better than that."

Sean said he did know better than that. Then he did something that absolutely floored me. He broke down.

It was then that I saw the scared eight year old in him. The little boy who had just lost his mother, and now, as an adult, he thought he was losing someone else he cared for.

"Sean, please...it's okay," I said. "I know that you feel bad about it. I just have to ask...did you learn anything from this?"

He nodded his head yes. I then told him that what happened should never happen again. I can overlook a lot of crap about people, but drug use was not one of them. Sean said he understood.

"Sara, I swear to you now that it will not happen again. I care about you too much to lose you over some of the stupid shit I do."

At that moment, I didn't know if I should believe him. Then I thought of one of the things I'd been taught as a child, and that I taught my own children on the subject of forgiveness: love the sinner, hate the sin. We all do stupid things in life. I am not perfect and cannot expect Sean to be.

"Sean, I love you," I said. "What you did was stupid, but if you have truly learned from it, then I can forgive you."

Sean took my hand and held it for a long time. We later went over to Dunkin' Donuts and got coffee. He held me for a long time in the parking lot. He was truly sorry. Even I could see that.

We went back to our room. Autumn and Steve were still sleeping. We got into bed and held each other. It was almost six a.m. and we needed to be at the lot at eleven. We needed to power nap big time.

At the lot later that morning, several people who had been at the party the night before made mention of Sean's antics. Although I was pretending not to listen, I learned that Sean was telling me the truth. He didn't do anything that he hadn't already told me about. I felt bad for doubting him.

I finally caught up with Sharyn, who, with her husband, owned and operated several game joints, and a Floss (cotton candy) joint. She said she could use me at several of her games, so I would be breaking some of her regular workers when they needed it.

She had me help set up the Duck Pond joint. There was this one girl, Amy, whom I knew I wasn't going to get along with. Everything I did was wrong in her opinion. I wasn't quick enough, or smart enough (who had the B.S. in Engineering here?), or not something enough to suit her. I decided to be nice to her anyway, though I was sure that kindness was lost on this chick.

Amy was from an Indian tribe in Canada somewhere, so I guess you could call her a "Native Canadian". She was dating a guy from Ohio named Jason, who was her polar opposite in every way. He was a nice farm boy. He worked in one of Andy and Sharyn's game joints, too.

Once the Duck Pond had been set up, Sharyn let me go for the day. I went over to the Wheel, where Cliff and Sean were having some difficulty getting the tower erected.

Even I could see there was something very wrong with the tower. It looked lopsided.

"Sean, is the tower bent? It looks like it," I said.

"We were just thinkin' that," Sean said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"What can you do to fix it?"

"Probably nothing," Cliff chimed in. "I think it's fucked. We're going to have Brian take a look at it. We are so fucked, Scooby!"

Sean told me that it looked like it was going to take a while to get this problem figured out, and to wait for him by the cookshack or by the car.

So I went to sit in the car. The cookshack wasn't open anyway. I took the opportunity to make some phone calls. I turned on the radio, and listened to songs with words I could actually understand. I really didn't mind the music I heard on the midway, but I could get rather tired of it day in and day out.

Playing with the tuning knob, I found WKLB, the local country station, and kept it there for awhile while I read the Boston Globe that I picked up at a newspaper vending machine outside Dunkin's that morning.

I smiled as Brad Paisley's The Fishing Song came on the radio. It was a cute little ditty that I hadn't grown tired of yet, especially since Sean had the CD it was on. The Globe was tossed off to one side as I sung along,

I don't know how much time I spent reading and listening to the radio, but Sean was soon there, wondering what I was singing at the top of my voice.

"Oh...nothing."

Sean laughed. Knowing that I liked karaoke, my singing in the car to the radio shouldn't have surprised him. I asked him what was up with the Wheel, did they figure out the problem, or what?

Sean's smile turned to a scowl. "The damned thing's fucked up! Brian thinks it got damaged in transit from Harwich. Unit Two's not using theirs. We might get that one to replace ours."

"Well that sucks! What does that mean for you? You going to be runnin' another ride?"

"Brian mentioned that the Gravitron might need another body," Sean said. "I don't want to work on that ride. That's where the demented leprechaun works."

"Oh, the guy who's supposed to be our new roommate, but is spending all his time with Meghan?"

"Yeah, Chris. He's a jerk."

Yeah, maybe he was a jerk, as Sean said. I hadn't had enough experience with him to make any kind of judgement. Chris was just another smart aleck kid to me.

Sean told me that he'd go wherever he was needed, but he didn't have to like it. He wanted to stay on the Wheel. I didn't blame him for that.

I didn't particularly want to work in a game joint, especially with someone like Amy who doesn't even try to get along with anyone she deems inferior to herself. Sean warned me to be careful around Amy. He'd heard things on the midway in Bangor about Amy not hesitating to punch out someone's lights. I told Sean that if she tried that shit, I'd fight back, then I'd see her ass in a jail cell for assault.

But, I'd work wherever I was asked to work. But, I didn't have to like it either.

Later, we went back to the motel. We were hanging out outside our room, enjoying the late afternoon sun. It was a great change from the weather that greeted us when we got here the night before. Autumn and Steve were smoking, and I was just sitting in one of the only chairs available, reading the Herald, since I'd read the Globe earlier in the day. I think I'd given the Globe to Doc, so he could read the comics. Eric was working the crossword. Sean was taking a nap, so the door to our room was closed.

It was a quiet night. No drinking or drugging, no wild parties. It was almost normal.

Steve and Autumn went to someone else's room to do something, so Sean and I had our room to ourselves. We ordered in for Chinese, talked about the upcoming spot, and spend time together. Since the season would end in mid October, we were making some plans for Sean to move in with me.

"I could get temp jobs, because sometimes they lead to permanent jobs," Sean was saying. "That's how I got jobs in Wisconsin."

"I know of a temp agency near my apartment, that specializes in things like construction, welding, physical occupations," I said. "I know people who swear by them."

"What are they like? What kind of pay could I expect?" Sean asked.

"I think they'll test you, so they can see what you're good at. Once they find you work, you'll get paid every day."

"Cool…"

The only stumbling block I could see to this plan was my landlord. I had told him several weeks before that my boyfriend might be moving in with me, but Frank had not said anything one way or the other. I would play it by ear as the time got closer to the end of the season.

Later, we went out alone so I could pay bills and mail them off to wherever they needed to go. My rent would be due before the first of the month, and I would get paid again before then.

"About rent for your apartment, Sara," Sean said; "I want to be able to pay half. The same with the phone, gas, and groceries."

"I was going to ask you to do just that, Sean," I said. "I've been doing it on my own, and it will be nice to have a little help."

The only thing I really was concerned about was socializing. I liked going to karaoke and hanging with my friends. I knew Sean liked to hang out in bars shooting the shit with the guys. I didn't want him to feel like my life was totally boring.

Maybe my life was boring. I didn't mind it, but someone else might think so. Sean and I would have to talk about that at some point. I'd lived alone for so long, I wasn't sure I would remember how to live with another person. Sean said he liked cats, so Columbus the Wonder Cat would be no problem for him. Columbus might not feel likewise. He was a very possessive cat; he hissed at Frank all the time, and even people who came and went regularly were subject to Columbus's fickleness.

Sometime around midnight, Autumn and Steve came back from wherever it was they had been. Sean and I were already in bed. They acted like the young, madly in love couple they were, and got into bed and cuddled under the covers.

Sean was, meanwhile, snoring away. He'd been sleeping whenever he got a chance. I don't know if it was because of his activities from the night before, or he was just plain tired, or he was not feeling well, but I was always a firm believer in if you needed to sleep, to go ahead and sleep.

I just wished I could sleep. I was having a major bout of insomnia, so sleep wasn't easy in coming. I had so much on my mind, and I couldn't turn it off at the end of the day. I didn't want to take anything to help me sleep, but if it went on much longer, I didn't think I would have much of a choice. I needed rest, and I wasn't getting it.

Sean woke up a couple hours later, and I was still wide awake.

"Haven't you been to sleep yet?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I can't just fall asleep."

He took me into his arms. "Baby, is there anything I can do?"

"Sean, just hold me, okay?" I asked. I settled into his arms, and he fell back to sleep. I, however, was still awake. I later fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Exhausted or not, I still had to report to the lot at 10a.m. Sean could see that I had had very little sleep. He told me that he'd go to the lot and tell Sharyn that I wasn't feeling well, but I decided that I probably should go anyway, because of something Sean had told me in Dover. That was, if the Show feels you aren't able to work, they'd have no problem sending you back where you came from.

So we rolled onto the lot at the appointed time, and we went to our respective work stations. I reported to Sharyn, and she had me learn the different games that I would be breaking workers on when the festival opened on Friday. Most of them weren't too hard, but the basketball game and the Duck Pond, were two I just couldn't grasp an understanding of to save my life. The Duck Pond especially because it was Amy who was showing me what needed to be done, and I honestly thought that she was screwing me up on purpose, so that when I did mess up, the Show would fire me. When I'd call her on some misinformation, she'd get mad and insist that she didn't tell me that. I finally got fed up and told her where to put her game. I went to Sharyn and lodged a complaint. I told Sharyn that I usually don't lose my cool, but Amy was trying so hard to make this more difficult than it had to be. Point blank, I told Sharyn that I would not work with Amy because she didn't even try to get along with me. Sharyn said she understood, that Amy could be hard to get along with, and that when she put me in the Duck Pond, it would be with someone other than Amy.

I thanked Sharyn for understanding, and thought that I wouldn't have any trouble with anything else she had me do.

Sean was over at the Wheel with Cliff, Brian and a couple of other men whom I didn't recognize. Sean saw me approaching and motioned me over. He told me that the two men I didn't know were from Unit Two, and that the Wheel I was looking at was theirs. Ours was in the parking lot, and it would be hauled off to Winter Quarters for repairs, and it might be ready in time for next season.

"You done for the day, babe?" he asked me. I said I was, and explained all that happened during my workday. Sean warned me again not to cross Amy. I said that Sharyn wouldn't make me work with her, because she didn't any animosity between Amy and me to spill onto the midway where the patrons could be involved. Sean thought that was wise move on Sharyn's part.

"I may be a while, Sara," Sean said. "We still have to put the Wheel up, then test it and make sure it is working properly."

I said okay, and that I'd try and find something to do. Sean asked me if I could go across the street to this little sandwich shop and get him something to eat. I said I would and Sean gave me a ten to get it.

I walked through the park, crossed the street and saw the sandwich shop. It was a little mom-n-pop place run by Greek immigrants. I walked inside, and I was greeted enthusiastically by the elderly man behind the counter. He knew I was with the carnival (I was wearing my show shirt, a dead giveaway), and asked me how things were going with the set-up. I said that I didn't have a lot to do with the set-up, but that it appeared to be going well. I ordered a sandwich for Sean, and the man gave me some soup for free. I offered to pay for it, but the man wouldn't hear of it.

I thanked him for the sandwich and the soup, and headed back to the lot. Sean saw me coming and met me about halfway. I handed the bag with his sandwich and the soup. Sean was surprised when I handed him the soup, and I explained it was a freebie. "Nice," Sean said.

The Wheel tower had been erected and it looked to be fine (like I'd know what constituted "fine" to Cliff and Sean). Sean said that they were going to put the tubs on, then give it a test run.

"Sara, you can wait out in the car, or you can go back to the motel and I'll catch a ride with someone," Sean said.

"I think I'll stay here," I said. "I'll go buy a paper and some lunch and hang out in the parking lot."

"And sing along with the radio at the top of your lungs?" Sean said, laughing.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "I thought you liked to hear me sing."

"I do," he said. "I think it's great you can sing. I can't."

"Now, wait," I said, "I've heard you rap, and you're not bad."

"But I can't sing like you can."

I said I didn't think I sang that well. Sean left and went back to work. I headed to the cookshack, and there were a few people there. I ordered a cheeseburger and a soda, and then sat down at a table where Autumn, Meghan and a girl named Jo were sitting.

"What's up, Sara?" Jo asked.

"Nada," I said. "Just wandered over here from the Wheel, where Scooby's workin'."

"What happened to the Wheel?" Jo wanted to know. "Someone said it was broken so we had to borrow one from Unit Two?"

"Yeah, something happened to it on the way here from Harwich, or so I've been told."

"That sucks."

"Yeah," I said. "Scooby's probably gonna have to work on another ride. At least that is what he's been told."

Talk continued about the Wheel and several other rides. Autumn thought one of her rides was not in tip-top shape. Meghan was telling me not to sweat Amy's treatment of me.

"Amy's intimidated by you, because you're new and you seem to have your shit together."

"Would it really kill her to be nice, or even pretend to be nice?"

"Honestly, Sara," Meghan said, "sometimes I think Amy would rather die than be nice to anyone other than Jayson." Jayson was Amy's "Ohio farm boy" boyfriend.

"It would seem so," I said. "All I can do is try and be nice to her, and if she chooses to be unpleasant, then that's on her."

There was agreement from the table. We talked for a few more minutes, then we all went our separate ways. I went out to the car and went to the gas station up the street to get a paper and some snacks. Then I headed back to the lot to wait for Sean to get done for the day.

It was a long wait.

Maybe I should have gone back to the motel, but I was there, I might as well stay put. It was another two hours before Sean came to the car. I was engrossed (again) in my favorite book, The Last Convertible by Anton Myrer. It took place in New England over a thirty year period beginning shortly before World War II. I was at a place in the story where Pearl Harbor had just been attacked, and two of the main characters were in the titular automobile trying to cross over the Sagamore Bridge. Just a few days prior, we had crossed over that same bridge.

"Hey babe," Sean said, "whatcha readin' there, girl?"

I showed him the book, and he said, "What, again?" Then he laughed. He knew I loved my books.

He got into the car and told me about what was going on with the Wheel. From where I was parked, I could just see the top of the Wheel. I had noticed that the tubs were on and they had put it through a test run, but then went back to whatever I'd been doing in the car.

"So, it's gonna be ready for Friday?" I asked.

"I fuckin' hope so," Sean said. "That Wheel is becomin' a big pain in my ass. And I'm not even gonna be runnin' the damn thing!"

"You're going to the Gravitron, aren't you?"

"Looks that way. But, De'Von will be there along with Chris. It'll be cool."

"Good," I said. "You're adaptable. You can do anything."

"I’d rather work a game joint, to be honest."

I told him I knew that. He'd taken over for a guy in a game in Hebron when the guy had to run to the restroom, and he was really good at it. Maybe next season, he could do that, I thought, if we came out next season.

"Let's go back to the motel. I need a shower, a nap, and a beer."

He got the nap on the way to the motel. He was out like a light within about five minutes. Tomorrow, we'd check out of the motel, as the bunkhouse should be ready for us to re-inhabit. If it wasn't, then we'd be shit outta luck.

I woke Sean up when we got to the motel.

"Why’d you let me fall asleep?" he asked me.

"Because you were obviously tired. You could have never driven feeling like that."

"I didn’t feel tired."

I said that is when it’s the worst. I can’t think of the number of fatal accidents that happen because the driver was too tired to drive, but didn’t feel sleepy. Those stories seemed to run on a daily basis in the Massachusetts papers.

Sean didn’t give me any more of an argument, I think because he was still tired. He laid down on the bed and immediately went back to sleep. I was thinking, he must not feel well, but he’d never admit it. He was rather proud of the fact that he "never got sick".

Steve and Autumn came in a few minutes later and saw Sean sleeping. "Is he feeling okay, Sara?" was the first thing that Autumn asked me.

"I don’t know," I said. "He fell asleep in the car on the way back from the lot. Then he laid on the bed and went back to sleep. I’m hoping he’s just tired."

They left for a while, said they were going with Doc and Andy to find a laundromat. Sean and I needed to do laundry, too, but I didn’t want to wake him.

A couple hours later, he woke up. He then went to take a shower. When he got out of the shower, I asked him if he felt under the weather, and he said he felt a little scratchiness in the back of his throat, but that was it.

"You don’t think I’m coming down with a cold, do you?"

"Well, we were out in the wet when we first got here. But if we take precautions, I think we can stop it in its tracks."

"I can’t get sick, Sara." Sean said. "I just can’t."

I totally understood that. We were out here to do a job, and getting sick was not an option. We’d just have to what my brother, Chris, called "playing hurt". When we were kids, Chris had somehow broken his arm, but we didn’t realize it until weeks later, because Chris didn’t complain about the pain. The only reason it came to light then was because Chris had to write an essay for his college applications, and he felt some pain trying to hold a pen and writing. I’ve always heard that when you break a bone, it’s usually on the side that you favor. It was Chris’ left arm that bothered him, and Chris was a southpaw. It actually hurt more when he had to have the arm re-broken so it could be set properly. I could still hear him yelling, and it had been more than twenty years since that happened.

I related that story to Sean, and he said that he’d like to meet my brother one day. "He sounds like a cool guy, Sara. He must have been fun when you were kids."

"Yeah, he was, and still is," I said. "After all, that Camaro out there used to be his."

"I know, you told me that," Sean said. "I was tellin’ some guys in Hebron that your brother did all the work on it, then he turned around and decided to sell it."

"That was because he had a baby on the way and the car was impractical," I said. "So he offered it to me first since I had always admired it. He’s got a minivan now!"

Sean laughed. "What a let down!" he said.

"No kidding!" I said. "But he’s thinking of getting another old car to fix up, and maybe he’ll keep that one."

Since there was a drug store across the street (or rather, around the rotary) from the motel, we decided to see if there was something there that could help Sean feel a little better before the scratchiness in his throat became something more serious. After we returned, Sean decided that he was going to go to bed early, and get some serious sleeping done ("I’m gonna get my sleep on," is actually what he said).

I thought that I’d have another sleepless night, but taking Sean’s cue, I went to bed early as well. I was out like a light!

Well, some good news (for a change): the bunkhouse was repaired and ready for us to move back into. We checked out of the motel that had been our home away from home away from home for the last several days. Once at the lot, we moved back into our room, then went over to the cookshack for breakfast.

There was talk about the upcoming Scallop Fest that would begin tomorrow. The festival would open early and begin serving the first of many hundreds of scallop and chicken dinners. The midway would open at noon and run until ten in the evening.

The weather had cooperated and it was sunny and cool, but the ground was still quite damp. There were mud puddles all over the midway, and the maintenance crew (a group of inmates on work detail from the Barnstable County Jail) was sweeping water out onto the grass, and then covering them as best they could with wood shavings. I knew that once we had a large crowd of people on the grounds, those wood shavings would have to be replaced constantly.

After breakfast, we still had a little time before work call to take care of whatever things needed to be done. For me, it was to call my mother in Oklahoma, and let her know that I was okay and where I was. I had a feeling she had been trying to call me at home, and not being able to reach me.

Instead of using my cell phone, I went to a nearby pay phone. I used my long distance calling card and dialed Mom's number. Mom answered after a couple of rings. I told her what I was up to, where I was, and who I was with. Mom had become a little concerned because she couldn't reach me, and didn't know my cell number. "I was going to call Christopher and ask him to check on you," she said.

"Mom, Chris and I don't even live in the same state," I said, "what could he do to check up on me?"

Mom didn't have an answer for that. She told me that everyone was fine, and that my sister was expecting her second child. She then told me about the family's recent trip to the Oklahoma State Fair.

"Who's this Sean you've been telling me about, Saralinda?" Mom asked. "How did you meet him?" I told her the whole story about how Sean and I met. I didn't say anything about Sean's being eleven years younger than me. That didn't seem necessary at the moment.

We talked for a few minutes more then I had to go. I didn't want to get too involved with my mother's endless questions. Working at the carnival was definitely a better alternative than staying at home.

I went back over to the lot to meet up with Sharyn. She would give me my work assignment for the day. Today, I was helping set up the High Striker. The High Striker is that game where you take a heavy mallet, swing it onto a platform that sends a weight up to try and ring a bell. Needless to say, not many people can hit the bell. Hank, Jr. usually handled this game, but he and his dad, Hank, Sr. were working other fairs in Connecticut, and would rejoin our unit in Topsfield, Massachusetts in October. When I last spoke to Hank, Jr., I asked him if he'd heard from Jenny, and he said he hadn't. All he knew is that she was headed to Chicago with her new boyfriend, Pete, whom she met in Hebron.

After the High Striker was set up, I went to help with the Duck Pond. When I got there, I was told by Amy that there was nothing for me to do. I told her that Sharyn sent me over there, and Amy again repeated that there was nothing for my "skanky Harvard ass for you to do." (I didn't go to Harvard, but I let Amy believe what she wanted to believe). I said fine and went to ask Sharyn if there was anything else I could do. Sharyn put me to work in her Floss joint cleaning out cupboards, and restocking supplies. After that was done, Sharyn let me go for the day.

Since it was still relatively early, it being four in the afternoon, I went to find Sean. He wasn't at the Gravitron, since I had spent the majority of the day right next to it setting up the High Striker, and he wasn't at the Wheel. Turns out he was at the bunkhouse, laying on the bunk. There was no one else in the room, and he appeared to be asleep. I was getting ready to leave to go up the street to get a paper, when he turned over and said, "Sara?"

"Yeah, Sean?"

"I feel like I'm gonna fuckin' die." He sounded awful, and he didn't look like he felt well, either. "That shit we bought the other night didn't work."

I felt his forehead and he did feel a little warm. "Do you want me to get you anything? I'm going up to that gas station to get a paper, I could get you something." I offered.

"Sara," Sean said, "Could you just stay with me? Brian sent me to lay down because I got sick on the midway."

I didn't like the way that sounded. "Are you going to be able to work tomorrow?"

"That's why Brian had me come in here and lay down. He wants me to rest so I can work tomorrow."

I had him scoot over so I could sit on the edge of the bunk. After telling me how he felt, I doubted that Sean had a simple cold. It sounded like one of those 24 hour stomach bugs. I asked him if anything he'd eaten may have made him sick, and he said he didn't think so. Maybe rest is what will help him feel better.

"If you're not feeling better in the morning, then maybe I should take you to a doctor," I said.

"No." Sean said. "I don't want to give Brian any reason to can me. I'll work sick if I have to."

Sean, I knew, wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his season end bonus. He would work tomorrow, sick or not. I had to stay rational and not jump to conclusions about what was wrong with him. After all, I wasn't a doctor, what did I know?

He later fell asleep, and I went to the gas station for my paper, some snacks, and some soda. I was back within a half-hour. I had Sean's bunkhouse room key, so I let myself in. Sean was still sleeping. I put the snacks and soda in the cooler, but I left out a couple of bottles of 7-Up. I knew from having sick kids that 7-Up can help settle queasy stomachs, so maybe it would help Sean's stomach feel a little better.

There was a knock on the door. I opened it and Eric stood on the other side. He had heard on the midway that Sean was under the weather and was checking to see if he was okay.

I stepped outside, making sure that the door was unlocked. I explained that Sean was sleeping and that was probably what he needed.

"He's going to work tomorrow," I said, "even if he's still puking all over the place."

Eric laughed. "Good ole Scooby," he said. "I knew he'd work nothing short of death."

"It's not like I can talk some sense into him. He's one stubborn S.O.B., that one," I said. "He says that he's going to get that bonus after Topsfield if it kills him."

"What exactly is wrong with him, Sara?" Eric asked.

"I think he has a stomach virus. It just has to run its course."

As Eric and I were talking, some other people came up to us and asked if Scooby was okay. I said that he'd be okay, he just needed some rest.

"The way he was pukin' today," Chris said, "I wouldn't be surprised if he had that stomach bug."

I told him that that's what I thought Sean had. Chris said something about that it was going around the lot since before Sean and I went to Hebron with our small group. It was just a matter of time before everyone had it.

"Val's husband Danny had it last spot," I said. "And he worked everyday."

Sean's being ill was the topic of discussion for the next half-hour, then I excused myself to go back into our room. I didn't feel like talking about it anymore. It wouldn't surprise me if a rumor surfaced on the midway tomorrow about how sick Scooby was.

When I came inside, Sean was awake. He had a big smile on his face. He looked like he felt a little better.

"How ya doin', babe?" I asked. "You look better."

"Oh," Sean said, "I feel a little better. The 7-Up you bought helped."

I said that I was glad to hear that. I sat on the edge of the bunk and Sean rubbed the top of my left thigh. I ran my fingers through his hair (and he was right, he did need a haircut).

"You take such good care of me, Saralinda," he said, stopping only to yawn. "I really appreciate it."

"I try," I said. "I just want you to be in top form tomorrow. I know how being sick like that feels."

"Nothin's gonna stop me from working," said Sean. "Last winter, I worked with the flu, and this was in Wisconsin. I'm a pretty stubborn S.O.B."

I looked at him with eyes wide. "You were awake the whole time I was outside, you sneak!"

"Yeah," Sean said bashfully. "I heard your voice outside, and I kinda eavesdropped."

"That wasn't nice, Sean."

"I know, but it's all good. My girl gave me props in front of the other ride jocks. You helped me look big and bad-ass."

"Being 'big and bad-ass' isn't the end all, be all, do all of your life, I hope."

"No, it's not, but you know how I really am," Sean said. "I don't have to front for you."

Sean lay back down on the bunk. I thought about what he just said. I knew in my heart that his big and bad-ass rep was all a front, and in private, I saw the real Sean Terrebonne.

Later, after Sean went back to sleep, I went to the doniker then returned to go to bed. I laid next to Sean and listened to him snore. Oddly, I found his snoring comforting. I was soon sleepy enough to fall asleep, thoughts of working game joints parading through my brain.

The lines for the scallop and chicken dinners started early, and were long throughout the entire day. Buses and vans filled with everyone from elderly folks to pre-school kids came all day long.

Of course, where there are kids, there are parents with money to spend. When the midway opened an hour after the scallop dinner lines did, we had plenty of customers.

I was on the High Striker, giving Diane a break. I liked doing the High Striker because I found that I could attract all the male machismo I could stand. "Hey, handsome…" my typical come on line would start, "can you come here and ring this bell for me?" More often than not, guys would flock over and try their luck. Val was in the ticket booth nearby and watched amusedly. She later told me I was good at working the High Striker. I just laughed. It was easier to attract guys to that than parents with little kids to the Duck Pond. Even on Cape Cod, parents were pretty tight with a buck.

As I worked the High Striker, Sean was at the Gravitron next door. He was watching with a bemused eye. To me, he looked like I was doing my job a little too well. Guys would ask if I was one of the prizes, and I had to say no. It was a job where my feminine wiles paid off in dividends.

"You single?" Guys would ask. I'd say, "no, sorry. That man over there," pointing to Sean at the Gravitron, "is my prize for years of being a good girl."

Then they'd look, and when they'd see Sean, they'd get this certain look on their faces. I loved it. I'm not so sure Sean felt the same, especially when he confronted me with it on our breaks.

"You do that High Striker really well, Sara," Sean said. "Maybe we'll make a joinie out of you yet."

"I get the feeling you're a little jealous of all the attention I'm bringing on myself so I can get customers."

"Nah…I think it's cool you found something you can do. I like watching the marks wanting your attention, and you point over to the Grav and call me your prize."

"Diane's a little pissed at me," I said. "I think she thinks I'm stealing her action."

"You're much better lookin' than Diane," Sean said. "That game needs a good lookin girl to work it. Guys tend to work harder to hit the bell if there's a pretty girl watchin' 'em."

"And, you get me at the end of the day," I said. "Right?"

"Damn right!"

"Sean," I said, "you know I don't fool around. I'm a one man woman…and you, Sean, are my one man."

Sean kissed the top of my forehead and told me he knew that. He wasn't worried about losing me to a mark. I had a Mark. He was my youngest son. Sean knew this. My heart was his.

Breaking the Duck Pond was not as pleasant experience as working the High Striker. I had to break Amy, and she kept telling me she didn't need a break. I didn't insist she take one, so I'd tell her I'd be back in an hour. After about two hours of this, I was starting to get annoyed. By that time, I had to go back over to the High Striker and break Diane again. That's when Amy would decide she needed a break.

Sharyn came over to the High Striker and told me that Amy needed a break. I told her that I tried to break her twice before I had to break Diane again, and she refused. Sharyn didn't like that Amy was refusing breaks until I had to break someone else. She saw that Amy was trying to get me into trouble. Sharyn said she'd break Amy herself, then talk to Amy about her behavior later.

After the midway closed, and we all went back to our rooms and tents, Amy started talking shit about how I wouldn't break her when she asked. When others would ask me about it, I would tell the truth, that Amy would refuse breaks until I had to break someone else, then demand I break her.

Sean told me that Amy was spoiling for a fight, and reminded me that she had a reputation for beating up people. "Amy doesn't care about the truth, Sara. She just wants to make herself look good, and if that means beating the shit out of you, she'll do it."

"Sean, if she tries it, I'll fight back. I can defend myself, you know."

"Honey," Sean said softly, "I know you can. But, you don't have to. No one will believe Amy's shit. They all know what she's like."

There was some commotion near the cookshack. Amy had been drinking and was now very drunk. She was looking for me. I would stand up to her, because she was being irrational and unreasonable. It never got that far. Her boyfriend, Jayson, stopped her and took back to where their truck was. She broke away from him and headed towards me. I stood where I was. If she wanted to fight me, she'd have to come to me.

She looked like a mad bull, eyes blazing, breathing hard. "C'mon, bitch," she said. "I bet you don't have the guts to fight me."

I said nothing. I decided that if she hit me, I'd hit her back. She might regret it, too.

"I don't need to fight you to prove myself," I said. "I have the truth on my side. If you want to start something with me, then that's your problem. I tried being nice to you."

"I can't stand your Ivy League ass, Sara," Amy said. "You dweebs need to be taken down a few notches."

"You're making a big mistake, Amy."

"Am I?"

Amy advanced at me, but I stood my ground. I didn't want Sean to fight this battle for me. I hadn't done anything to Amy to warrant this. She just plain didn't like me, and now she had to prove to other people that she was better than me.

I saw her fist coming towards me, connecting with my upper left arm. I grabbed her arm, and forced it behind her back. Then I pushed her to the ground, still keeping her arm behind her.

"Did you think I wouldn't fight back?" I asked her as I forced her down into the mud. I knew there were some stunned people in the crowd that had gathered around us. "You thought wrong."

"Bitch!" she spat back. I released her arm and let her get up. She looked like she was madder than ever, but there was no fight left in her. I think she was shocked that I actually called her bluff and was able to quickly subdue her.

"Go sleep it off, you miserable bitch" I said to Amy as she walked away.

Everything had happened so quickly, that no one had had time to react. It was over now. I just wanted to get a million miles away from the lot, from carnivals, from people like Amy. Sean came up to me and said something to me, but I didn't hear him.

I'd passed out.

I heard voices, but couldn't make out words. I opened my eyes, but all I could see was Sean's face. I was lying on the bunk in our room, but had no memory how I got there.

"Sara? You're gonna be okay," Sean said. "You passed out after the fight with Amy. You defended yourself well. Where did you learn to do that thing with twisting her arm behind her back?"

"Huh?" I said. "How'd I get here?"

"I carried you here."

Oh.

I figured out what happened. After the fight, I was so relieved it was over that I just let myself collapse. I hadn't been in a fight since junior high. I'm sure this wasn't the way a thirty-eight year old mother of three was supposed to act. I didn't know how I felt, but proud was not it.

I tried to sit up, but I felt sick to my stomach. "Sean?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"You aren't mad, are you? That I got caught up in all this crap?"

"No, I'm not mad. You did what you had to do. She hit you, and you defended yourself." Sean put his arms around me and pulled me close to him.

"I feel bad it had to come to this," I said.

"You won, Sara."

I didn't feel like a winner and told Sean that. If anything, I felt ashamed that I had to defend myself in a fight. A fight I didn't ask for.

There was a knock at the door. Sean got up and went to answer it. Then, Sharyn was in the room. Oh, shit, I thought. I’m going to get thrown off the lot and Sean will hate me.

"Are you okay, Sara? I heard Amy was giving you some trouble."

"I didn't want to fight her, Sharyn," I said. "She hit me, and I did what I had to do."

"I know, Sara," Sharyn said. "I'm not blaming you. I just wanted to see if you were hurt. I heard you passed out."

"Yeah, I think it was all the stress of the fight. Once it was over, I just collapsed."

She talked to me for a few more minutes. She would talk to Andy about Amy's behavior and decide what to do. Fighting was not allowed on the lot, and Amy had picked a lot of fights. Sharyn assured me that I wasn't in any trouble with her or the Show. She hoped that I would be okay. If I didn't feel up to working tomorrow, to let her know. I told her that if that were the case, I'd send Sean with a message. I told her that I thought I would be there in the morning.

Sharyn left and Sean came back into the room. He told me that the fight was the talk of the night. There were some people who were surprised that I stood up to Amy, and still more who thought I had real guts.

"Yeah, I have guts. Can we all just stop talking about this?"

Sean knew that I wasn't exactly happy with all that had happened that night. It was late and I felt like crap. I had nothing to be proud of.

"Sara, you amaze me everyday with how strong a person you are," Sean said as we lay down on the bunk. "I understand that you're feeling less than happy about it all. Everything will be better in the morning, honey, I promise."

"I hope so, Sean," I said. "I really hope so."

I woke up the next morning with a huge bruise on my left shoulder and a sense of dread. I didn't sleep well at all, and I laid awake for hours.

This was the first time in the time I'd been with the carnival that I seriously considered leaving. I didn't like the way I felt after a confrontation I didn't ask for yet had to participate in. I knew as soon as I stepped outside our room, the first person I'd encounter would ask me about it. I just wanted it all to go away.

I sat up in the bunk the best I could without waking Sean. I looked over at him and saw a man with whom I was in love, but was judgmental. If I were to tell him I was leaving the Show, he'd probably tell me goodbye and good luck.

I felt sick to my stomach, and I knew the cause was stress. I also knew that I would have to go back onto the midway and have to see Amy out there. I knew that even though she was very drunk last night, she'd remember the fight. There would be people asking her about it as well.

"What's you thinkin' about, Sara?" Sean's voice startled me.

"I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."

"Last night." Knowing he was right, he put his arm around me. He didn't have to say anything. He knew I was still feeling less than thrilled about the previous night's events.

I got off the bunk and changed my clothes. I hated the way I was feeling, but I couldn't shake it. I just had to get off the lot for a while. If Sean wanted to tag along, fine.

"I gotta get the fuck outta here, Sean," I said. "I just need to get away from the lot for a while." Where I'd go at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning, I had no idea.

Sean started to get dressed. As he pulled on his jeans over his boxers, he said, "I'm coming with you."

I didn't even have the strength to protest. Sean finished dressing and we went out to the car. Sean slipped behind the wheel, looked over at me and said, "where to?"

I was tempted to say "home", but all I said was, "I don't care as long as I don't have to look at this lot."

Sean started driving. He didn't have any idea where we were going to go, but I had a feeling that he just wanted to get away from the lot as well.

We ended up back near Harwich. The streets, for now, were quiet. We pulled into a Friendly's restaurant and had breakfast. Sean did all the talking, because I frankly didn't want to. He told me that he knew I was upset about the fight; that he knew I wasn't the kind of person to resort to that method of resolving conflicts. However, I had to get back into the groove and do the job that I was being paid to do.

"You know you're a better person than that, Sara. You have the qualities that anyone would want in a soulmate. I am so lucky to have you here with me," he told me as I pushed my eggs around on my plate.

He continued on to say that he was proud of me that I stood my ground, that I had the truth on my side, that I had a strong moral character that he was sure my kids had inherited. Then he asked me where I learned the move I used on Amy.

"I think it was something my brother and I learned in Martial Arts classes as kids," I said. "I hadn't thought about that in a long time."

I then said that I ascribed to a non-violent approach to resolving conflicts. I'd rather talk it out than get physical. I thought that's why I felt so bad afterwards.

"Sara, you're a good woman. No one will hold this against you."

"I hope you're right," I said. "But I have people asking me about it all day long."

"You don't have to talk about it," Sean replied, "just tell them it's a wrap."

By the time we left Friendly's, it was nearly 9 a.m. We had a work call for ten. It would take us twenty-five minutes to get back to the lot. On the way, we talked more about the previous night, about what kind of day we were facing, and what we were going to do that night after the midway closed. Listening to the radio, we learned that the forecast for the rest of the weekend included some rain. Just as long as it held off until we tore down on Sunday night, I didn't care how much it rained after that.

The day was not as bad as I feared. Sharyn didn't have me break anyone in the Duck Pond, and kept me on the High Striker most of the day. Amy would come by on her breaks and try to intimidate me, but I wasn't buying her act. That pissed her off, but she didn't bother me much after that.

The weather was cooling off, and it was overcast, but that didn't stop the long lines of people waiting for the scallop dinners under the big white tent. During my free time between breaking Diane at the High Striker, and Jo at the Floss, I went and saw some of the exhibits under another white tent. Those were mostly crafts, though, so after I had seen all of them, there was really not much more I could see.

After dark, I didn't have to break either Diane or Jo, because Sharyn put me on the High Striker. Diane would be breaking me, and she'd get some time off her feet. Sean wasn't at the Gravitron, because he was breaking Cliff on the Wheel (Sean was the only person Cliff trusted to break him).

During the day, I was getting to feel better about last night. Some people did ask me about it, but I said the subject was closed and would not entertain any more discussion on it.

After the midway closed, Sean and I went to a bar near the lot. He drank and I didn't. He didn't get drunk, but he did do a lot of talking. Since we walked there, there was no designated driver issue, but the cool weather made the walk back to the bunkhouse uncomfortable. Sean was feeling better after his bout with the stomach virus, but I thought he was taking alcohol too soon after, and he did get sick to his stomach later that evening.

It was a quiet evening, and we went to bed early. Sean fell asleep right away, but I remained awake for several hours. Damn this insomnia, I thought. There's gotta be a better way to beat this.

Sunday. Thank God this spot was almost over, I thought.

The day ended early, as the scallop dinners weren't being served today. As we started breaking down Sharyn's joints, the weather was starting to turn nasty. The rain held off for the most part until we started loading the equipment into the storage trailer, around one in the morning. Then the sky opened up and it began to rain like there was no tomorrow.

"Oh, fuck…" Diane said as we were all getting drenched. Since everything had its place in the trailer, we had to load things inside in order. Amy, conveniently enough, was inside the trailer with Sharyn, while Jo, Diane, Meghan, a couple of ride jocks with nothing to do, and me were outside in the rain.

It took about forty-five minutes to get everything loaded, it raining hard the entire time. There was much swearing and sweating and wiping the wet hair out of my eyes. Finally, we were done. It was about two-thirty.

My wet clothes clung to me like a piece of plastic wrap on a ceramic bowl. All I could think of was getting paid and getting into some dry clothes. Sharyn came to me while I was walking to my car and called me over to her truck. She handed me an envelope and a piece of paper to sign to indicate that I received my pay. She then thanked me for all my help, and hoped that we could work together again before the season was over. "Go get into some dry clothes before you catch cold," she told me before she walked away. "See you in Dedham."

Sean and I had packed the car earlier in the day, in anticipation of the bunkhouse being hauled to the next spot, in Dedham, Massachusetts. I didn't want to get into the car with wet clothes on, but there was really nowhere I could change but in the car. Not knowing when Sean would be done, or who he'd bring with him for a ride to Dedham, I opted to dry off with a towel and then sit on it so that the seats wouldn't get wet. I got one out of my bag in the trunk, but before I closed it, I thought that I better get towels for Sean and for anyone sitting in the back seat. My brother paid a lot to replace those seats, I thought, damned if I'm gonna ruin them.

I got in on the passenger's side and closed the door. I stuck my key in the ignition so I could turn on the heater (which, unlike the a/c, worked perfectly. Figures). Maybe I could get a little dry.

Fat chance. Sean showed up right after that with Eric and a tall guy named Greg, who worked in the basketball joint. They were our passengers for the ride to Dedham, both of whom had paid Sean ten bucks a piece to ride with us.

Word around the lot was that Greg didn't need to work, that he was from a wealthy family and only did carnival gigs for the fun of it. He was a nice guy in a goofy kind of way, and wasn't stuck up or looked down at his nose at those who wasn't born with the same advantages as he was. I think he was from Dedham, actually, but right now, I just don't remember.

The guys were just as soaked as I was, so I was in pretty good company in the drowned rat department. We all bitched about the weather, the carnival, the Show's management, and teased Eric about the number of teenage girls who gave him their phone numbers. Then Greg mentioned the fight I'd had with Amy.

I held up my hand, signaling that "the catfight" was a closed topic. "Let's not go there, Greg, if you don't mind," I asked.

"No problem, Sara," Greg said. "Amy's still pissed about being bested by a 'snot nosed Ivy League bitch' though."

"Let her be pissed," Eric said. "She had no right to pick a fight with anyone."

Sean and I looked at each other, and Sean rolled his eyes. He mouthed the word "sorry" to me. I blew him a kiss signaling I understood.

"Oh, ain't those two cute," Eric said in mock sarcasm. Eric, who was sitting behind Sean, winked at me.

We must have sat there for about an hour, talking. We were waiting for the okay to jump to our next spot. Sean was getting impatient, and got out of the car to see what the hold up was.

Just then, some idiot came flying through the parking lot on a motorcycle. The driver then lost control of the bike and wiped out just beyond the parking lot on the footpath. We all piled out of the car and the guys went running over to the accident scene, along with Andy, Doc, Steve, Mikey, and a few others. I stayed put by the car, and some of the other gals came over asking me if I'd seen anything. I said I hadn't.

Turns out that the bike belonged to Andy (he had just bought it that day and had it brought to the lot so he could have Sharyn tow it home), and the rider who had wiped out was none other than Brian, our midway manager.

After checking for bumps, bruises, and broken bones, Brian was helped to his feet. He'd wrecked the bike, and Andy was understandably upset; not only did his friend get hurt, but his new bike was ruined before he'd gotten a chance to ride it himself.

"Stupid motherfucker," Sean mumbled as he walked back to the car. "Even I know that you don't brake suddenly on a wet surface. What a moron!"

I asked if Brian was going to be all right, and Sean said Brian felt bad for wrecking Andy's bike, but appeared to just have some road rash, bumps and bruises. "That's what Brian gets for showing off," Sean said. He then got back into the car, and Eric and Greg soon followed.

Due to the lateness of the hour (damn near sunrise), we all just decided to just head on out to Dedham. We were given a map with directions, and away we went.

Dedham was near Boston, so we got there in a fair amount of time (I guess. I slept the whole way there). It was still raining some when we pulled into the parking lot of the Dedham Mall, where the carnival would be set up. Across the parking lot from where we were told to park was a DeMoulas. Inside the supermarket was a Dunkin' Donuts, but the store wouldn't open until seven. It was about quarter til. Damn. Hot coffee so close I could taste it, and I had to wait fifteen friggin' minutes to get to it!

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Chapter Ten is here!