The Fair and the Fat Lady
by MasterMike
(I had the idea for this story years ago, started writing it but never got around to finishing it. While going over an old thumb drive containing some of my files, I came across the story and decided to finish it and post it here)
Part 1
In the midst of the dog days of August 1935; the small Texas mining town of Gehenna had suffered not only a sweltering summer; but the ravages of both the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl in the past few months. A sauna-like humidity choked the very air, and a blazing sun glared down like a cruel yellow eye upon the Gehenna denizens. The beleaguered townsfolk all ached for a relief, or at least a distraction; from their myriad woes. Having finished his shift as a stock boy at Bradbury's General Store, Gunther Milford pulled his dirty handkerchief out of his denim overalls and wiped his brow of pouring sweat as he trudged down the walkways of Front St.; when the vivid hues of a colorful poster plastered across a fence caught his attention:
THE COMANCHE COUNTY FAIR
FEATURING THE WORLD-RENOWNED
MARLOWE & GOETHE CARNIVAL
THE WORLD'S GREATEST SHOW!
IN TOWN FOR TEN DAYS ONLY
FOOD, RIDES, MUSIC AND FREAKS!
AT THE COMANCHE COUNTY FAIRGROUNDS FROM FRIDAY AUG. 23rd
TO SEP.1st
The poster had illustrated images of clowns, acrobats, a strongman, a ringmaster, and the one aspect of the bill that most caught his eye was the image a great red-headed, smiling fat lady; wider than she was tall. He could not explain why, but this drawing was stirring up curious feelings in him; particularly below the waist. The lanky blond youth's eyes lit up in joy and eager anticipation. He had loved the Town Fairs since he was a young boy; the merry-go-rounds, the attractions, the music and the cotton candy were something that he looked forward to all year round; but neither he nor the rest of his family had been to the fair since '29. Since the Crash.
But he longed for the attractions, the music, the excitement, the pageantry and mystery that were synonymous with the carnival. Running almost all the way back to the shabby house with the peeling white paint which he had called home all his nineteen years of life, He bounded through the door, catching his breath as he saw his family gathered around the dinner table.
“Landsakes, Gunther; you were almost late for dinner!”, said Mrs. Milford, looking startled as she placed some boiled pork on his plate at the kitchen table.
“Howdy Ma! Hey Connie...”, said Gunther as he gently patted the pig-tailed head of his younger sister Constance Mae.
“You need a bath, Gunny...”, said Connie; wrinkling her nose.
“Reckon I do, sis. The fair is comin' back to town, I want us all to go!”, he said.
“Boy, you got rocks in your head?”, shouted Tyrone Milford, Gunther's father; a tall man with thinning gray hair. “I put in long hours five, sometimes six days a week at the mine for practically peanuts; and we ain't got a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out! How in the hell are we supposed to afford a trip to the fair?”
“I been workin' overtime lately at the general store, and savin' my wages! Reckon I could take the four of us for a whole day!”, said Gunther as he took his seat at the table.
“Ty, why don't we let the boy treat us to a day at the fair? Who knows, it might be fun, after all we've been through this past year, with the Dust Bowl blowin' through town; it may do the family a world of good!”, said Mrs. Milford.
“Alright, Agnes...”, grumbled Tyrone; “...but just one day, and one day only, I don't want my son wastin' his hard-earned pay like a dad-burned fool; especially when you and me help provide for the family, and it's so hard to come by these days.”
“Hot dog!!! We're goin' to the fair again, just like old times!”, shouted Gunther jubilantly as he and an equally happy Connie hugged each other. “Thanks Pa!”
by MasterMike
(I had the idea for this story years ago, started writing it but never got around to finishing it. While going over an old thumb drive containing some of my files, I came across the story and decided to finish it and post it here)
Part 1
In the midst of the dog days of August 1935; the small Texas mining town of Gehenna had suffered not only a sweltering summer; but the ravages of both the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl in the past few months. A sauna-like humidity choked the very air, and a blazing sun glared down like a cruel yellow eye upon the Gehenna denizens. The beleaguered townsfolk all ached for a relief, or at least a distraction; from their myriad woes. Having finished his shift as a stock boy at Bradbury's General Store, Gunther Milford pulled his dirty handkerchief out of his denim overalls and wiped his brow of pouring sweat as he trudged down the walkways of Front St.; when the vivid hues of a colorful poster plastered across a fence caught his attention:
THE COMANCHE COUNTY FAIR
FEATURING THE WORLD-RENOWNED
MARLOWE & GOETHE CARNIVAL
THE WORLD'S GREATEST SHOW!
IN TOWN FOR TEN DAYS ONLY
FOOD, RIDES, MUSIC AND FREAKS!
AT THE COMANCHE COUNTY FAIRGROUNDS FROM FRIDAY AUG. 23rd
TO SEP.1st
The poster had illustrated images of clowns, acrobats, a strongman, a ringmaster, and the one aspect of the bill that most caught his eye was the image a great red-headed, smiling fat lady; wider than she was tall. He could not explain why, but this drawing was stirring up curious feelings in him; particularly below the waist. The lanky blond youth's eyes lit up in joy and eager anticipation. He had loved the Town Fairs since he was a young boy; the merry-go-rounds, the attractions, the music and the cotton candy were something that he looked forward to all year round; but neither he nor the rest of his family had been to the fair since '29. Since the Crash.
But he longed for the attractions, the music, the excitement, the pageantry and mystery that were synonymous with the carnival. Running almost all the way back to the shabby house with the peeling white paint which he had called home all his nineteen years of life, He bounded through the door, catching his breath as he saw his family gathered around the dinner table.
“Landsakes, Gunther; you were almost late for dinner!”, said Mrs. Milford, looking startled as she placed some boiled pork on his plate at the kitchen table.
“Howdy Ma! Hey Connie...”, said Gunther as he gently patted the pig-tailed head of his younger sister Constance Mae.
“You need a bath, Gunny...”, said Connie; wrinkling her nose.
“Reckon I do, sis. The fair is comin' back to town, I want us all to go!”, he said.
“Boy, you got rocks in your head?”, shouted Tyrone Milford, Gunther's father; a tall man with thinning gray hair. “I put in long hours five, sometimes six days a week at the mine for practically peanuts; and we ain't got a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out! How in the hell are we supposed to afford a trip to the fair?”
“I been workin' overtime lately at the general store, and savin' my wages! Reckon I could take the four of us for a whole day!”, said Gunther as he took his seat at the table.
“Ty, why don't we let the boy treat us to a day at the fair? Who knows, it might be fun, after all we've been through this past year, with the Dust Bowl blowin' through town; it may do the family a world of good!”, said Mrs. Milford.
“Alright, Agnes...”, grumbled Tyrone; “...but just one day, and one day only, I don't want my son wastin' his hard-earned pay like a dad-burned fool; especially when you and me help provide for the family, and it's so hard to come by these days.”
“Hot dog!!! We're goin' to the fair again, just like old times!”, shouted Gunther jubilantly as he and an equally happy Connie hugged each other. “Thanks Pa!”
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