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Jelly went on. Silvio ignored him. He let his nose be the guide. Too many storm clouds had formed. He couldn’t see the moon. That was a good sign. A moon on a night like this would be a bad omen.
    Silvio swatted and snapped branches out of his face before they cleared the forest. The lights of the Ferris wheel, sounds of laughter, and calls for townies to test their luck filled the air. That and the sweet smell of the open plain, mixed with the roasting treats, had the inner muscles lining his stomach twisting with pangs of hunger. He dropped his hands in the pockets of his knickers and walked the line with Jelly into the mix. Tents were up. Folks gathered. The crowd was mostly thin. That could be due to the late hour. Maybe it was because a storm was rolling in. Possibly the location hadn’t spread through the rest of the town. Those thoughts faded when he noticed the true reason why. The barker’s voice drew his attention first; the crowd of men circling made him stop in his tracks.
    “You see that, Jelly?” he asked.
    “Fortune? I can tell you boys need some.” A gypsy woman of ill refute stepped out of the shadowy opening of her tent. Jelly slowed to a stop, forcing Silvio to do so and look back.
    “Jelly, let’s go.”
    “Leave him with me. For a fifty-piece I’ll tell him everything he need,” she offered. Draped over her head was a dark blue and black scarf with a fringed edge that had tiny coins attached. Her raven dark hair matched the coal black eyes focused on them both. She tossed one end of the scarf over her shoulder, and gave them a secretive smile. The kind a cobra gives before he strikes.
    Silvio had to shake the willies. Jelly could not. He stood there, transfixed and rooted to the spot. The gypsy stepped to a table outside of her tent and moved her hand over a stack of cards, fanning them out. Her black nails were long and pointed. She batted her lashes at Jelly. The top left corner of her mouth curled up with a tempting smirk.

    “My Pa preached about these people. Sil, we… we should go from here,” Jelly stammered. “We should go now.”
    “Sorry, toots. Take the con elsewhere. C’mon!” He snatched Jelly’s collar and pulled him away from the witch. Several tents had card games or shuffling shells, the usual carnie tricks. Nothing compared to the barker’s call.
    “ Step right up fella's. Hey you! That's right, I'm talking to you. This you want to hear! Not another show better than this one, boys. You know it's the trooth! Always the finest, the freshest pussy when Tiny’s Carnival comes to town.
    Got a flower that’s ripe for the picking tonight. One night showing only…”
    Silvio pushed his way into the crowd to get closer, dragging Jelly by the back of the neck.
    “ They call her Buttercup, prettiest little flower you ever will see.” The midget stumped his wooden cane on the podium. “Dare any of you to find a gal, colored or white, that gives you half as good! She’ll make it dandy, boys.
    That’s Tiny’s promise!”
    “We should go. What if someone finds the hooch we left,” Jelly whispered. Silvio’s eyes lifted to the flapping sign over the event tent. It whipped about by the stormy winds. He could smell rain and the bullshit the little man was selling. Still he was curious. Who was the gal they called Buttercup?
    “Shut your trap, Jelly,” Silvio hissed, not wanting to seem like a sap around the other men. No one noticed Jelly’s whining. He fished in his pockets. He had ten dollars as a down payment on the run. Another twenty waited for him on delivery. He supposed he could spare a dollar for them to have a good time. “I think we going to see a show.”
    Jelly stepped back instead of forward. He shook his head; the fat meat along his jaws began to jiggle along with his double chin. “My Pa won’t approve.”
    “Jelly, boy, you need to loosen up. Your Pa, Sheriff Tuck, hell all of Jefferson County can kiss our ass! We got money and now we gots