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weightlessness admirable for a man of his girth. His skin, shiny and rubbery, stretched tightly over his face, giving him a deceitfully jovial expression. The resemblance was such that one would be tempted to rub a finger down his cheek to see if it made that annoyingly screechy sound balloons made. To his great relief, no one had yet attempted this. It would have undoubtedly tested his otherwise mild disposition.
    On the morning of the day his life would change the Balloonman finished his chores early and was, by noon, sitting behind the counter reading the newspaper. All of the balloons had been blown and were now en route to their designated destinations. None of his patrons really knew how the balloons were delivered. The balloons simply appeared where they wanted them to appear. One minute their mailbox was naked and the next it was covered in a multicolor display of balloons intended to alert people to the location of their family reunion or auction.
    Looking out the window, the Balloonman sighed heavily. The day was just as gray and heavy-looking as ever. This seemed a direct contrast to the light and airy nature of his festive stock. It wasn’t until he was ready to close up just before six o’clock, a few minutes early, having only seen three customers that day, his life changed.
    June First came charging in the door, her face flushed and her ponytail in disarray. The Balloonman, living in the center of town, knew more about the residents than many people. He knew June First came from a poor family. He also knew she was a gifted scholar, the valedictorian of her class, and would be attending a wonderful college in the East on a full scholarship after she graduated later this year.
    She slammed the door behind her, panting, breathing in the heavy latex smell of the Balloonman’s shop.
    “ You have to help me,” she said.
    “ What’s wrong?” the Balloonman asked.
    “ It’s Derek Gloom,” June said. “He’s after me.”
    “ Why is he after you?”
    “ He wants me to marry him. He says he wants to take me away tonight.”
    The Balloonman knew who Derek Gloom was. Everyone knew who Derek Gloom was. He was the son of Cecil Gloom, the fireworks tycoon. Cecil owned a large fireworks factory at the edge of town that employed many of the residents and he wielded his power over the town just as Derek wielded his father’s power over the high school.
    Derek was a threatening figure. He was very tall and very pale. Rumors said that Cecil used his children to try out new and fantastic fireworks. Consequently, they weren’t exposed to a lot of sunlight because the fireworks were best viewed in the dark and Derek only had three fingers on each hand, the other four assumedly blown off by ultrapowerful firecrackers. Of the remaining fingers, he let the nails grow to sturdy points. He always smelled like gunpowder and threatened the younger kids with Roman candles and bottle rockets. If they didn’t do what he asked, he nailed them. And his father’s lawyers would exonerate Derek even if his last victim were left with a massive burn or without an eye.
    “ I don’t want to go away with Derek. I don’t want to go anywhere with Derek.”
    The Balloonman did not know how to react. He was not a policeman. He was not a protector. He sold balloons. Not only that, the second June First had pounded into his shop he had nearly forgotten how to breathe. The Balloonman was very nervous around girls. He had never so much as held hands with a girl and, if it didn’t involve the decorative placement of balloons, he didn’t really know what to say to them. So now he was in two situations that made him very uncomfortable.
    “ I need to hide or something,” she said. “They were right behind me.”
    The Balloonman came out from behind the counter, smoothing his tight suit over his ample stomach, and said, “Go on upstairs. I’ll see what I can do.”
    “ Thank you, uh, Balloonman,” June said, running up the stairs behind