9/3/14
September had drawn to a close and the days were noticeably shorter, but a late-season heat wave was holding the cool of Autumn at bay a while longer. Kids were back in school while farmers were bringing in the last of the crops and storing their equipment for winter. A caravan of trucks pulling carnival rides onto the fairgrounds two days ago had raised a feeling of excitement all over town and folks were rushing through last-minute preparations before the opening of the fair.
The exasperatingly slow minute hand of the schoolroom clock had finally struck the hour to begin our weekend. I rushed home and dropped my backpack, then grabbed all the cash from my small tin box and headed out the door again. I walked as fast as I could the two miles to the fairgrounds. Only after I’d passed through the gate did I stop to relax a little. Here at last!
Every direction I looked people were enjoying themselves. The flashing lights of the rides and booths could hardly compete with the late afternoon sun but they still created a special atmosphere. There were hundreds of people talking excitedly while barkers called out their wares and a dozen rides each blared different music. The cacophony was underlain by the drone of gas engine electric generators powering the pandemonium. These latter were also belching out pungent exhaust fumes and giving a sharpness to the other aromas — popcorn, cotton candy, and the hot oil of deep fryers.
I turned left to go see the livestock and food exhibits first, then I’d work my way through the games of skill and chance, before ending at the food trucks. There were two metal buildings set to the side of the grounds. One held the animals of the livestock competitions, the other held the pies, preserves and canned goods of the food competitions.
As I approached the entrances I hit a wall of heat. The L-shaped arrangement of the two buildings blocked any breeze and created a large pocket of stifling air, while their sheet metal sides reflected the sun into that same area. After only a few steps there were drops of sweat on my forehead so I hurried through the doors. The cool of the building was so welcome that I didn’t mind the ammonia-like smell from the dozens of caged animals.
I passed quickly up and down the aisles. Mostly I was just scanning the entries for anything unusually large. But there hadn’t been any remarkable animals for years. “Scientifically formulated” animal feed had pretty much standardized the livestock outputs. Only one category still saw occasional variation — the pigs, and it was these I wanted to see.
Bobber had been feeding his hog everything he could dig out of restaurant dumpsters. His theory was that all that high-fat, high-calorie food would really pack the pounds on “Hog”. Billy, on the other hand, had been giving his hog two or three six-packs of beer a day. He told people, “If it can give me a beer belly like this, think what it can do for ol’ Amos.” There was no doubt, both plans were working. So a lot of us were intensely curious to see which competitor would take the blue ribbon.
As I came around the corner to the swine exhibit I heard a commotion. Bobber was crying loudly while a circle of family and friends tried to console him. Not being able to get near I went over to Billy instead and asked what happened.
“His pig is dead,” Billy said with genuine concern on his face. “Last night Bobber found a bunch of raw dough behind a pizza place so he brought it back and fed it to Hog. He figured all that dough would make him look really fat.”
I still wasn’t seeing the problem. If it had been me, I might have thought the same thing.
“It didn’t work like that, though,” he went on. “Once that raw dough got in a warm stomach the yeast started rising again. The pig kept swelling up till it died. The vet said a little while ago that pigs can’t upchuck, so there was no way for it to get all that dough back out. You should’ve heard the poor thing squealing at the end. His innards were coming out his …”
I stopped him from finishing. I’d already heard too much. Once I choked down the lump in my throat I asked, “Does that mean you won, then?”
But Billy just looked down, shook his head, and pointed to a pen two stalls down. “Over there.”
As I walked I saw a blue ribbon hanging from the top of the pen’s frame. Looking over the rails I saw the largest hog I’d seen in my life. He was easily half again as large as Hog or Amos.
“It belongs to that new guy,” said Billy coming beside me. “You know, the one from New York City.”
“What in the world has he been feeding it?” I said.
“Don’t know. I asked but he wouldn’t say. He only smirked at me. I told the vet to check for drugs or hormones; he said he already did. But I’m sure that guy’s doing something tricky. This ain’t normal.”
I nodded agreement then asked him to give Bobber my condolences. I left for the food building. Here too there wasn’t much competition. Millie Ferguson always swept every category she entered. It had finally got to where once people heard which contests she was planning to enter, they wouldn’t even bother to compete against her.
One year after winning eight awards Millie overheard Ruth Scheumann tell the other entrants that she had cheated. Millie confronted her right then in front of them all and asked how she could have cheated in this kind of contest. Ruth couldn’t answer, so Millie said loudly that Ruth was just eating sour grapes. The following year Millie brought a new preserve recipe which she’d invented and named “Sour Grape Jam”; it won the “best of show” award. She now brings a jar of it every year.
A quick lap around the food displays showed nothing unexpected. All the blue ribbons had gone to Millie Ferguson, of course. A few tables offered free samples of the entries so I tasted the best looking items. It was clear why she kept winning. Wow! Finally, I exited and rushed through the hot zone.
Again I was immersed in sights, sounds and smells. While weaving my way through the crowd I felt something stick to my shoe and had to scrape it against one of the thick generator cables running along the ground. After detaching whatever it was I shuffled my feet in the scattered hay to dry the residue.
My attention was then caught by a girl of about five crying hysterically. Her father explained that he’d already tried repeatedly to win the doll she wanted but he just couldn’t get the ball to stay in the basket. His offers to buy her a new doll at the toy store were being rejected because she only liked that doll.
I decided to leave the games and rides for later. Tasting the samples in the food building had made me hungry so I went straight to the food trucks. I saw my classmates Mike and Jenny sitting at one of the picnic tables and eating something wrapped in paper. They weren’t known to be a couple, so I was wondering why they were together today. Then I remembered something.
Several months ago I told him how at last year’s fair I’d run into Jenny, invited her to go on a few rides, and bought her a foot-long hot dog. Then after walking her home she had given me a kiss. Now I knew why he had mown lawns all summer and saved up his money. It seemed he wanted to repeat my success. Well, I couldn’t let him use my own tactics to steal my good fortune, could I?
“Hey, guys. What’s up?” I said. “Oh, Mike. Your mother’s looking for you.”
“Yeah, sure,” he replied.
“No, really. When I was on my way here I passed your house and saw her looking up and down the street for you. She said if I saw you to let you know she needs you right away.”
“No, she didn’t. Did she?” His expression slowly changed from disbelief to concern.
“She said your father came home early and he’s, um, sicker than usual. She’s having a hard time controlling him and really needs your help.”
“I gotta go,” he said. He jumped up from the table, said sorry to Jenny, then took off running.
“So, Jenny, you wanna go on a few rides?”
“No, thanks,” she said. “I already went on the ones I like with Mike.”
“Oh, ok then. Would you like another hot dog?”
“No, thanks.” She spoke with the straw of her drink still between her teeth.
“Oh, um. Well, would you like me to walk you home?” Oops. I hoped that didn’t sound too eager. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows. There was a slight smile playing across her mouth and I was afraid she was about to laugh and tell me to get lost.
“Yeah, ok,” she said at last.
She got up from the table and looked down at the napkins and food she and Mike had left. Before she could say anything I grabbed it all and carried it over to a trash can. We then headed toward the exit.
After we left the fairgrounds and were well on our way I decided to take a chance. I reached my right hand over as casually as I could and gently took her left hand. I felt her hand flinch, but she didn’t pull it away. I smiled to myself and began anticipating what I hoped was coming.
There was a large wall at the entrance to our neighborhood which had the community’s name written on it. Surrounding the wall were a lot of shrubs and flowering plants. They were supposed to make the place look more attractive. Behind the sign was a little pocket in the foliage just big enough for a couple of people to sit unobserved. I often used it as a hiding place when I wanted to be alone.
As I thought of my plan to invite Jenny to join me back there, I was glad I’d never shown Mike my little hide out. I just hoped we weren’t going to run into him heading back to the fair once he found out his mother hadn’t really been looking for him. Heh, heh, heh.
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