unusual amount of hair sauntered to a perky-looking octogenarian with tightly permed curls and bright lipstick who wore a hot-pink pantsuit. Sammy, seated near the office, listened to their conversation, all about memories of dancing to that same tune in their youth. Soon they were gliding about the fortune teller's boxes, using long, smooth-flowing dance steps. The other customers stepped out of their way to watch the performance. When the song ended, applause led into the next song and the couple slipped away to a game booth.
Two couples walked past Sammy to the refreshment stand, where they ordered soft drinks and hot dogs. They carried the food to one of three tables in the corner. The ladies gingerly turned their swivel stools to face each other. After placing their drinks on the table, the men eased into their chairs. In unison, as if they had rehearsed, they reached into their pockets and pulled out what remained of their coupons.
"What you got left, Frank?" the thin, hunched-over man asked his friend.
"Huh?"
I said, "How many coupons you got left?"
"Oh, I don't know, three maybe. I sure liked that wild turkey game."
"You say you liked that mild jerky."
One of the ladies spoke up. "I didn't know they were selling jerky. I think I'd like that better than this hot dog."
Frank corrected her. "I don't think they're selling jerky. But I wouldn't mind a piece a' pie."
"Pizza?" She spoke up again. "I wish I knew they had pizza before I bought this dog!"
"Edna, he said he wanted a piece of pie," the other lady said. Sammy stifled a chuckle.
"Well, I'll have one, too."
"They don't sell it here, Edna." She turned to talk to the first gentleman. "Are you having fun, Larry?"
Edna said, "Berry? That sounds good. Frank, do you want some berry pie, too?"
"That sounds good to me." Both Frank and Edna slid off their stools to place their orders.
The gentleman holding his coupons smiled at the remaining lady and asked, "Do you think they'll find their way back?"
It was nearly six and Walt was still missing. John and Sammy edged through the crowd. They headed toward the door hoping to see the group from the Colony. Several of the earliest customers had played their coupons and left. One old man was showing a lady friend how to aim a short dart gun so it would hit a plastic pig's rear-end, make the pig squeal, then tip forward onto a doll's head to plant a kiss on its cheek. After the kiss, the doll's eyes opened and its tongue stuck out. The lady had placed her darts everywhere but on the pig. The old gentleman put his last coupon on the counter, picked up the gun, aimed carefully, and hit the doll in the forehead. He stepped closer, removed his glasses, and tried again. Success! The pig squealed; the doll stuck out her tongue.
Outside, the November air was nippy, near freezing. Streetlights showed wintry halos through the icy fog. Sammy glanced back through the windows. The chill of the parking lot made the warm scene all the more festive-looking. Just as the boys turned to go back inside, they heard the rumble of an oversized flatbed truck. It was headed toward them. A shot of adrenaline raced through Sammy's chest, and he spun around. The squeal of brakes and the smell of rubber followed as the driver came to a jerking stop three feet from the curb. Walt and his seniors had arrived.
Bundled and hooded, looking prepared for a bonfire outing, a dozen silhouetted men and women laughed and chattered as they bounced against one another and the rail that framed the truck's exposed bed.
There was no need for introductions. The group wiggled their frail bodies off the truck and, as Walt held the arcade door open, began limping past him into the warm, inviting interior. Piles of pillows and blankets were left in a heap on the floor of the flatbed.
As Walt began to follow the last of the new arrivals inside, Sammy and John approached him. "We were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it."
"Just a little confusion
Two couples walked past Sammy to the refreshment stand, where they ordered soft drinks and hot dogs. They carried the food to one of three tables in the corner. The ladies gingerly turned their swivel stools to face each other. After placing their drinks on the table, the men eased into their chairs. In unison, as if they had rehearsed, they reached into their pockets and pulled out what remained of their coupons.
"What you got left, Frank?" the thin, hunched-over man asked his friend.
"Huh?"
I said, "How many coupons you got left?"
"Oh, I don't know, three maybe. I sure liked that wild turkey game."
"You say you liked that mild jerky."
One of the ladies spoke up. "I didn't know they were selling jerky. I think I'd like that better than this hot dog."
Frank corrected her. "I don't think they're selling jerky. But I wouldn't mind a piece a' pie."
"Pizza?" She spoke up again. "I wish I knew they had pizza before I bought this dog!"
"Edna, he said he wanted a piece of pie," the other lady said. Sammy stifled a chuckle.
"Well, I'll have one, too."
"They don't sell it here, Edna." She turned to talk to the first gentleman. "Are you having fun, Larry?"
Edna said, "Berry? That sounds good. Frank, do you want some berry pie, too?"
"That sounds good to me." Both Frank and Edna slid off their stools to place their orders.
The gentleman holding his coupons smiled at the remaining lady and asked, "Do you think they'll find their way back?"
It was nearly six and Walt was still missing. John and Sammy edged through the crowd. They headed toward the door hoping to see the group from the Colony. Several of the earliest customers had played their coupons and left. One old man was showing a lady friend how to aim a short dart gun so it would hit a plastic pig's rear-end, make the pig squeal, then tip forward onto a doll's head to plant a kiss on its cheek. After the kiss, the doll's eyes opened and its tongue stuck out. The lady had placed her darts everywhere but on the pig. The old gentleman put his last coupon on the counter, picked up the gun, aimed carefully, and hit the doll in the forehead. He stepped closer, removed his glasses, and tried again. Success! The pig squealed; the doll stuck out her tongue.
Outside, the November air was nippy, near freezing. Streetlights showed wintry halos through the icy fog. Sammy glanced back through the windows. The chill of the parking lot made the warm scene all the more festive-looking. Just as the boys turned to go back inside, they heard the rumble of an oversized flatbed truck. It was headed toward them. A shot of adrenaline raced through Sammy's chest, and he spun around. The squeal of brakes and the smell of rubber followed as the driver came to a jerking stop three feet from the curb. Walt and his seniors had arrived.
Bundled and hooded, looking prepared for a bonfire outing, a dozen silhouetted men and women laughed and chattered as they bounced against one another and the rail that framed the truck's exposed bed.
There was no need for introductions. The group wiggled their frail bodies off the truck and, as Walt held the arcade door open, began limping past him into the warm, inviting interior. Piles of pillows and blankets were left in a heap on the floor of the flatbed.
As Walt began to follow the last of the new arrivals inside, Sammy and John approached him. "We were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it."
"Just a little confusion
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