“Knock all the milk bottles over and win a prizzzze!” I hoped the boys had a chance at winning this game. I’d overheard someone in the crowd stating these types of games required a certain level of skill, which I was hoped the twins possessed. As the caller held me briefly in his hand I could see huge stuffed animals lining the brightly colored booth. People were walking by the booth, yet some paused to watch the friendly competition between Hank and his sons.
“MOM!” Tommy suddenly shrieked as he took off running. I was still in the caller’s hand and saw a crowding gathering around where Mary must have been sitting. Trying to strain to see, but I couldn’t. There were too many people between where we were standing in front of the booth and where Mary had been sitting. Hank and Jimmy ran after Tommy, but I still couldn’t see what was going on. I sure wish she was all right.
Suddenly I was thrust into the boy’s money apron as he kept calling the game rules, “Right up, come right up! Knock three milk bottles over and win a prizzzze!” he hollered seemingly oblivious to the commotion happening a few yards away. Sadly, I would never know the outcome of events; such was the way it is in my position. I am here to serve only, I just can’t help wanting to know about the people’s lives whose path I cross. I find people to be so interesting.
Just as I was reminiscing about some of the lives I had touched, I realized the young man had reached in his pouch to make change and I was handed to a teenage boy with curly red hair and freckles. He was standing with a group of friends and they were sizing up the game and urging him on to knock down the milk bottles. Before he stuffed me in his front pocket I caught sight of a rather shy looking golden haired girl standing in the back of the group. She was smiling sweetly and eagerly looking over the red head’s shoulder.
“Willie, you ain’t gonna knock ‘em down,” one of his friends teased.
“Sure he can!” replied a girl’s voice. “He’s the best pitcher the Coyotes ever seen!” she went on to say in a deep southern drawl.
“He ain’t neither. Joe’s brother was the best,” the male teenager responded and it sounded like scuffling between the boys over that comment. Then laughter as the horse play quieted down while Willie got in position to throw the first ball. Wham! I heard it hit the back drop and knew he had missed. His friends were really egging him on now, saying he threw like a girl. Wham! Another miss, I just knew his face was probably as red as his hair by now.
“Come on, Willie. You can do it,” a soft spoken voice said, barely audible over the teasing of his friends. She must be special to Willie because I could feel his confidence rise as he straighten his back, arched his shoulder back, and then followed through with the pitch. “BAM!” The milk bottles exploded as the ball found its target to the simultaneously cheers from his friends. Willie was jostled around as his friends hugged him and patted him on the back.
“WE HAVE A WINNER!” the caller shouted, then to Willie “Pick your prize sir. Anything on that wall is yours.” Willie turned and I could only imagine he spoke to the girl with golden curls.
“What would you like Sarah? Pick anything,” he said to her. His friends teasing sounds stopped and I heard the shuffling of feet as they made way for Sarah to get a closer look at the stuffed animals in the booth.
“I really don’t need anything Willie,” her soft voice trembled as she spoke.
“Maybe you could give it to your little sister then,” Willie responded. “Pick one out for her. I’m sure it would make her happy now that she’s on crutches,” Little sister? On crutches? Goodness, people’s lives are complicated. Now I wanted to know what happened to her sister, but I’d probably be spent on a soda or another game first.
“That’s a good idea. Hmm…I’ll…take…that one!” she said as she found the perfect stuffed animal for her sister.
“Here you are little lady,” the boy tending the booth said as he handed her the prize. Just then one of the teenagers suggested they try throwing darts next and we were off in that direction. Along the way, however, Willie asked Sarah if she’d like a snow cone to which she coyly answered “Yes.” Ah, young love…puppy love I believe it’s called. Temporarily lost in thought I hadn’t realized Willie pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket, of which I was one. Being handed to a young woman in the concession stand I saw that Sarah had chosen a pink stuffed teddy bear holding a flower between his fluffy arms. A gift truly fitting for a young child on crutches, I bemused as I was placed in a cash drawer waiting to be passed along to the next patron.
Somehow I managed to stay in the drawer through several customers as I heard them order funnel cakes, which sounded utterly delicious. Then someone ordered deep fried Oreos and I wondered why someone would even think to fry such a delicacy as a simple cookie. Apparently, this concession stand sold a variety of tasty treats because the number of fair-goers seeking refreshments seemed endless. Eventually, I was handed to an elderly gentleman. I’d venture to say he was in his late seventies. But then again, I wasn’t even a year old, yet looked like I was ten. Age really is an elusive number. I’ve overheard the saying once, “You’re as young as you feel.” Nice way to put it, I thought.
“Grampa, I wanna ride a pony!” came the squeal of a young boy. “Lez find da ponies, Grampa,” he insisted with extreme exuberance. I guessed him to be only three or four as his pronunciation of each syllable wasn’t perfected yet. And, of course, I caught a glimpse of him and his small stature, straight black hair and huge blue eyes shining with so much excitement, it struck me as one of the many joys of watching a child grow up.
“Sure Marshall, sure…you can ride a pony. Let me just figure out… Now where did your Nana go?” his grandfather was saying as he scanned the crowd. Still holding me in his hand, I realized the crowd had increased with the setting of the sun. One could hardly see the pavement anymore because so many people were walking in slow procession; moving as if they were all the same body, except for the ones who had stopped to try their luck at a game. Every booth was brightly lit as was the concession booth where he was still standing. And every booth had a small gathering of people in front of it.
“Excuse me,” someone spoke to him so she could get to the window.
“Oh, I’m sorry little gal. I was looking for someone,” he said as he moved from in front of the concession stand window. “Come on, Marshall, hold my hand …Nana couldn’t have gotten too far away from us handsome gents,” he said as the little boy giggled. The older gentlemen neatly folded my peers and me and placed us in his shirt pocket.
“There she is!” exclaimed Marshall.
“Well, butter my biscuits. You’re right as rain,” he responded.
“Lucy, where have you been buttercup? I took the little tyke to get a snow cone and thought you’d run away with the lion tamer,” he said in a teasing tone as I heard him kiss her on the cheek.
“Oh Ted, you ol’ tease you. There isn’t a lion tamer at the county fair,” Lucy said laughing. What a great pair they are, I thought.
“And it’s a good thing too, otherwise, the Marshall and I would have to round up a posse of ponies and come after ya,” he joked as she laughed and patted him lovingly right on the pocket I was in. Sigh…a lifetime of love…I was really beginning to see the benefits of being human.
“I wanna ride a pony,” Marshall sung out as soon as he heard his grandfather mention it.
“Lucy, my love, have you seen any ponies around these here parts,” Ted cooed at her.
“Why yes, brave cowboy. I do believe I saw a magnificent heard of ponies in yonder direction,” she replied in the same expressive manner.
“Where? Where?” Marshall asked eagerly as he jumped up and down. Still holding his grandfather’s hand, I was being jostled around in his breast pocket. Walking toward the ponies I heard a loud ‘whack’ followed by the ring of a bell, which was quickly followed by cheers and clapping. Another game enjoyed by everyone.
As we walked I could sense the crowd’s excitement. Cheers and laughter reverberat
ed off the rides and game booths only to be amplified by the density of the crowd. “Ponies!” Marshall demanded as he started to tug on his grampa’s arm.
“Now just hold on a minute, whipper snapper. Those ponies will be there when we get there,” Ted replied as he stooped to pick up his grandson and carry him the rest of the way. I could smell we had arrived at the ponies rides by the hint of hay in the air. Well, yes, of course, there were other smells too. But I definitely caught a whiff of hay.
“You have to wait your turn Marshall. Come over here and stand in line,” Lucy spoke as Ted set him down.
“But I want to see the ponies!” he whined.
“You can see then just fine while waiting in line. Besides, if you’re not in line you won’t be able to ride one. Now listen to your Nana,” his grandfather’s voice was just stern enough the boy didn’t protest this time. “That’s a good cowboy,” Ted said, then to his wife, “Best get the camera out so’s we can get some pictures for Matt.”
“Already thought of that, dear,” Lucy replied. Oh, how I wish I could see the look on Marshall’s when he rode the pony. I wondered what color the ponies were. This was so exciting I could hardly contain myself while we waited. Finally, it was Marshall’s turn to ride one of the ponies around the small makeshift corral and he was squealing with enthusiasm.
“Let that man put you on a pony, Marshall,” Ted was instructing the boy.
I could feel pride swelling up in him as Marshall hollered, “Yee haw!” I assumed he was on the pony now and eagerly waiting to be taken on a ride around the small corral.
“Dear, will you bring me a soda?” Lucy was asking Ted as Marshall continued to express his excitement with a continuous stream of ‘yee-haws.’ Goodness, he was having a great time for a young fellow.
“Of course, love of my life,” he said with a kiss on the cheek before he turned to find a vendor selling drinks. He didn’t have to walk far before I heard him ordering a Dr. Pepper for Lucy.
“That will be three dollars,” an older woman was saying. Three dollars! Imagine just how much money would be spent at this county fair. Just buying a few soft drinks could add up. Suddenly, as I was calculating math equations in my head, I realized Ted had taken me out of his breast pocket and handed me to the cashier when I felt the cool night air. Frantically, I looked around while I had a chance hoping to spot Marshall on a pony. And there he was! There are no words to express the look of pure joy on the child’s face as Lucy captured the moment with her camera. This would be a memory I would file away for a long time. Just as quickly as I witnessed Marshall having fun I was placed in the vendor’s apron pocket to yet again be handed to someone else; t’was a great county fair indeed.
The next person I was handed to spoke with a foreign accent. However, I soon learned she and her family were leaving the fair to eat dinner at a restaurant. Considering the price of a soda, I didn’t blame them. Sad, that I would be leaving the fair so soon, I realized it was later than I thought and certainly past dinner time for most folks. Therefore, I simply wondered where we were going to dine.
It took a while to walk out of the fairgrounds to their car. But once we were on the way it seemed a short drive to arrive at the restaurant. They had unanimously decided on Chinese, even though I learned they were from Italy and visiting cousins in the United States. As everyone exited the car I caught a whiff of enticing aromas. Upon entering the restaurant my nostrils were filled with several mouth-watering smells at once. It was then I discovered we were at a buffet and all the food was available for patrons to serve themselves. What a wonderful concept. A person could confront a serving dish and take however much, of whatever, they wanted for a set price. Extraordinary!
Upon entering the establishment everyone was seated in a booth and their drink orders were taken. “I’ll be right back with your drinks, please help yourself,” the waitress said as they got up to visit the buffet and select their dinner items of choice. There seemed to be a lot of choices by the mixture of aromas. I was tucked inside a small change purse hanging on the jeans of the girl I was handed to at the fair; making me close enough to the serving stations to detect garlic and teriyaki sauce, which were unmistakably delicious smelling. Actually, there were so many aromas mixed together, it was a dizzying quantity of appealing edibles.
Reseating themselves the conversation covered many topics. But with several of them talking at once, I found it hard to stay on the course of a particular topic. So instead I focused on the young girl who carried me in her purse. She was talking to a teenage boy about the fair and how much fun the “Tower of Terror” had been. That was what Jimmy had wanted to see, which reminded me of Mary. Sigh…I hoped she was all right. But there didn’t seem to be any further commotion after they ran off to see about her, so I took a positive stance and decided she was just fine.
The young girl’s name was Sophia. She would be starting college soon in Texas and came to visit with her family. They wanted see where she would be living on campus. Her father’s cousin lived in town and they had stopped by to visit before they had to return home to Italy. Sophia would obviously be staying behind. She had never been so far away from home before and sounded anxious about her family leaving in a few days.
“So-so, you no hafta stay. You come back wit us,” a man with a heavy accent was saying. I assumed it was her father and was right when Sophia responded with nervous laughter.
“Ah papa, you know I can’t do that,” she said sounding brave. “I want to be a veterinarian. I have to stay and go to school, so I can tend to sick animals,” Sophia said.
“I haf sick cat at home, you come care for it,” her father said trying to sound demanding.
“Oh papa, Felice isn’t sick. He’s just old…like you!” she said, which created an outburst of laughter.
“Then you come take care me!” he said to even more laughter. That’s when I realized I hadn’t heard an older woman’s voice and wondered where Sophia’s mother was.
“Mama does that, papa,” she responded.
“Your mama make me fat. She feed me too well,” her father said to an uproar of laughter again. After that the dialogue returned to Sophia’s studies and what classes she would be taking. How much she liked her dorm room and if she needed to buy anything else before they left.
She assured everyone she had everything she needed. As they finished and readied to leave her father was asking whether to leave a tip since it was a buffet.
“We should leave something,” their American companion was saying. Sophia piped up and said she had some American dollars and pulled me out of her purse before anyone could protest. As she set me and two of my peers on the table I glimpsed the soft features of her face framed by her long black hair. She was very petite, slender and wore a simple pale rose sundress with a blue sweater. She would make a very dainty veterinarian, I thought.
Her father admonished her for spending her money, to which she shushed him promptly as they both laughed. He was a robust man with a gentle demeanor and adored his daughter immensely. Yet, his eyes held the sadness he felt leaving her in a few days. The teenage boy was the spitting image of his father and a likable young fellow. A little on the quite side, but the evening had centered on Sophia’s upcoming college activities. The American was dressed in a blue western shirt and younger than I thought. Perhaps, he was the son of the cousin. I couldn’t be certain, not having spent more time with them. But it was a privilege to serve them and share part of their lives, if only for dinner.
CHAPTER 6
Flea Market
The waitress who picked me up shoved me in her apron pocket where I stayed until her shift ended. She then emptied her tips onto a table to tally the day’s gratuitous earnings. After which she wrote her total on a sheet and put my peers and I in a white envelope for the head waitress to divvy out between all the wait staff working that day. I wasn’t convinced the system seemed fair at first. However, it occurred to me that it was a buffet, after all, and the wait
staff really just served the drinks. Therefore, I supposed it sounded reasonable for everyone to share the daily tip earnings.
By the end of the night I wasn’t returned to the waitress who had served our drinks. Instead, I was given to a pimpled face young lad who seemed eager to earn his daily gratuity. Overhearing him talk to a co-worker I learned he was off the next day, a Saturday, and was very excited because he had been working every Saturday for the past five weeks. Apparently, he had very big plans for the next day…he was going to a huge flea market somewhere near Pasadena. Well, butter my biscuits as Ted would say, I was going to a flea market. And I couldn’t wait. As was my duty to serve, it occurred to me that I may have the opportunity to serve numerous people. Ah, the excitement was almost too much. But first this young lad had to return home.
As he exited the restaurant I realized he was hanging around outside the front door. Egads, he was too young to drive, or at least own his own car. As I wondered who would pick him up an old, pale yellow Cutlass pulled up beside him. “Hi mom, where’s dad?” the young man inquired.
“Frankie, you know your dad plays cards on Friday nights. Get in, the traffic is horrible because of the fair,” his mother responded sounding tired. Apparently, his father usually came to pick him up.
“You just get off work?” Frankie asked.
“Yes, and after twelve hours I’m exhausted. Let’s just get home so I can go to bed,” his mother said softer as she concentrated on pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
“Man, traffic is backed up. I ain’t ev’r seen it like this,” Frankie said rather concerned.
“Yeah, well you’ve never been out at night till you got this job,” his mother pointed out. “I just worry about you driving at night in all this traffic when you get your license. So much traffic…”
“Next June, and I can’t wait!”
“Uh-huh,” his mother said as the car suddenly sped forward and I knew we had entered the flow of traffic. Frankie talked endlessly about his customers at the restaurant that day. He told story after story about how some of them were rude, while others were really nice and left big tips. He talked about the food and how he was asked more than once to carry out an item for the buffet. The more he shared about his day the more I realized his mother didn’t usually pick him up. As a matter of fact, he mentioned his friend Earl would be coming back from vacation and would be able to give him rides again; until he got his license, in June, of course. Frankie seemed to have an endless supply of conversation in him as I noticed the volume on the car radio increased a few notches, however, Frankie never noticed as he continued to chatter about his day. I tried to listen but found the radio tugging at my attention. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long drive home.