Booger approximated a smile, but her mouth full of long, white teeth gave it a menacing edge. "What you talking 'bout? I been spotted the whole time!"
Tilly's eyes rolled to the heavens, shoulders shaking with reluctant laughter as she pulled the dog back behind the stand with her. "C'mere, you—"
There was a gong-like ringing as Booger's tail thumped against the side of a oil drum repurposed as a trash can. "See, 'cause I'm covered in spots. Didja get it?"
"Oh, I got it." Tilly craned her neck around the corner. "But I didn't want it."
"Guess I got no future as a carnival clown, huh?" The dog sat back on her haunches. "So who we hiding from anyway?"
Tilly stood on tiptoe to gain a better vantage point. "Peter's wife."
"I thought Sprout said she was pushing up pumpkins in Peter's garden."
"She is," Tilly said, but shook her head once she realized she'd given credence to Sprout's nasty rumor. She sighed in frustration. "No, I mean—this is his second. Married her over the summer."
"Well, shoot, he was all ate up with grief, wasn't he?" Booger asked.
"Barely waited for the body to get cold," Tilly muttered. "This one's the new schoolmarm. Last three times Mama's come to town, this lady's cornered her, going on and on about how we need to come to her lessons."
Booger's back arched as she scratched behind her flopped ear. "What kinda lessons?"
"Reading, writing, arithmetic, how to talk proper, stuff 'bout the old queens and—" Tilly waved at Booger absently. "—Here she comes."
They both shrank from the corner as a young woman wove through the shallow crowds of the fair at an urgent pace. The high neck and pinprick polkadots of her matronly black dress disguised her radiant beauty no better than a straw-and-ribbon hat hid her lovely honey-colored hair.
"I guess we know why ole Pete was so quick to remarry," Booger mused.
"She is a mite easier on the eyes than the last one," Tilly murmured. "But I can't never decide if she's going to a nunnery or a funeral."
Adjusting her glasses, the school teacher scanned the crowd, pursing her lips when she found her quarry thoroughly vanished from sight. Tilly swore she saw the woman stomp her foot in protest.
A cold nose pressed against Tilly's calf. "Reckon she knows?"
"Knows what?"
"That she's Peter's second wife," Booger said. "And that the first is fertilizing his garden, so to speak. You know, when he gets tired of this one—she could be next."
"Oh, that's awful. Don't believe everything Sprout tells you. I'm sure Peter's last wife got a good Christian burial." The confidence in Tilly's voice shook. "Regardless of whatever happened to her."
Booger tilted her head. "You mean you don't know?"
"Well, no. Nobody does." There was a long pause as Tilly stared at the laces on her shoes. "Either way, I don't particularly care to find out. C'mon."
Back pressed tight to the concession stand, Tilly slid further and further out of view until she found a gap between two sideshow tents. The pair was halfway across the fairgrounds before they decided they had put an adequate amount of space between themselves and the schoolteacher, footsteps slowing to an interested meander.
There wasn't a lot to do at the fair without money. The rides needed tickets, the shows required coin, and the only thing that came free at the concession stands was the smell. Eventually, they found themselves at the mouth of the temporary barn housing the petting zoo. There was no admittance fee, but a couple of vending machines dispensed handfuls of feed at a penny a pop.
"Not exactly the exotic experience I was hoping for at the fair," Tilly remarked as they walked past pens filled with sheep and a dairy cow content on ignoring her captive audience in favor of cud-chewing—both all-too common sights for a place like Coleville. Regardless, she did stop to pet the nose of a handsome grey cobb, climbing up on the second rung of the gate to get a better look at him. He lowered his head to meet her, long lashes hiding brown eyes that were warm like Booger's but lacked the glint of intelligence. All the animals in the petting zoo had forgotten how to speak. "Kinda sad, ain't it, Booger?"
There was no response.
"Booger?" Tilly twisted from her place on the gate just in time to see a familiar chickadee hop into the pig pen. Soon another swine, this one with a spotted belly, joined the lineup at the trough. Tilly could only watch, amused, as Booger's pink snout found its way into a little girl's hand to root out the feed within. She waited until the girl left—her pockets a whole nickel's worth of feed lighter—before speaking up again. "Really?"
"What?" The spotted pig snorted. "I was hungry. You want some?"
"Not especially, no," Tilly sighed, stealing a glance towards the entrance. A bored-looking farmhand didn't seem to have noticed the newest addition to his livestock. "Now that you've had your breakfast, get on out of there before you get us in trouble."
"Like he's gonna care," Booger said.
"No, but you're gonna care when somebody up and makes a couple rashers outta you," Tilly snapped. "Now c'mon. Git."
"Fine, fine," Booger grunted, shifting form to a spotted mouse that took up residence in Tilly's front pocket. "Spoilsport."
On the other end of the petting zoo, a loose circle had been formed by folding metal fences. A crooked line of children, fists clenched tight around their quarters, waited for a chance to ride the animal inside. Tilly had only seen it in picture books before. "Look, Booger."
The mouse's whiskers twitched with curiosity. "What is it?"
"It's an elephant," Tilly explained. "They come from the jungle."
"Awful long way from the jungle, ain't it?" Booger asked. "What's it eat?"
"Here? Hay mostly, I reckon," Tilly said. "Oh, and peanuts."
The mouse gave an incredulous squeak. "You're fooling me. There ain't enough peanuts in the whole of Grimland to feed something that big for a day."
Tilly laughed, and would've said more had the elephant not made its lazy roundabout in the enclosure, its rider squealing with equal parts fear and delight. But as soon as the pachyderm laid eyes on the small, rodent companion sitting in Tilly's pocket, it stalled. A handler urged it on, but only received a trumpeting of concern from the animal.
"What's got it all bent out of shape?" Booger asked.
"Oh, uh, erm." Heat rushed Tilly's face as she shoved the mouse further into her front pocket. "Nevermind. I'll tell you about it later."
They left that area of the fair quickly, finishing the circuit of rides and attractions until they found themselves once again at the pennant banner that marked the entrance to the fairground. With nothing left to do, Tilly took a seat on a bench and watched as mothers carefully helped their children onto the carved animals of the merry-go-round until her eyes went unfocused.
"Do you think Sprout would mind if we went home early?" Tilly tugged the kerchief down to her nose.
"What?" Booger weaseled up from her place in the front pocket. "You wanna go home already?"
"We've already dropped the pumpkin off." Tilly's voice was low. "Without money, there ain't much point of being here."
The spotted mouse sniffed the air. "You okay?"
Before Tilly could answer, a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders. If Tilly hadn't immediately recognized the smell of grass and sunshine as her sister's, the sudden blooming of dandelions at her feet would've tipped her off. Sprout squeezed her in a hug and gave her a peck on the top of her head. "There you are!"
"Yep. You found me." Tilly's smile was tepid. "Neighbors let you hitch a ride?"
"Mmhm." Sprout climbed over the back of the bench to plop down beside her. "Mama told me about Mr. Tubbington. That was real swell of you."
"Aw, you woulda done the same for me." Tilly cleared her throat. "Speaking of which, do you got the entrance fee?"
"Well, I brought it!" her sister answered cheerfully, before shrinking with guilt. "But I kinda ... don't got it anymore."