They were the Baxter family, Randolph and Millicent the parents, with their three children, Emma and Simon and Louisa, who was the littlest; and they didn't come to the fair in any old bus. No, they drove up in a taxi, all the way from their home clear on the other side of town, laughing and poking each other, and when they got out, Randolph Baxter gave the driver a really big tip. It wasn't that he could really afford it. It was just because he felt it was the right thing to do. When you took your whole family to the Lottery Fair, Baxter believed, you might as well do it in style. Besides, the fare was only money. Though Millicent Baxter pursed her lips when she saw the size of the tip, she certainly was not angry; her eyes sparkled as brightly as the children's, and together they stared at the facade of the Lottery Fair.
Even before you got through the gates there was a carnival smell, buttered popcorn and cotton candy and tacos all together, and a carnival sound of merry-go-round organs and people screaming in the rollercoaster, and bands and bagpipes from far away. A clown stalked on tall stilts through the fairgoers lining up at the ticket windows, bending down to chuck children under the chin and making believe to nibble the ears of teenage girls in bright summer shorts. Rainbow fountains splashed perfumey spray. People in cartoon-character costumes, Gus the Ghost and Mickey Mouse and Pac-Man, handed out free surprise packages to the kids; when Simon opened his it was a propeller beanie, a fan for Emma, for little Louisa cardboard glasses with a Groucho Marx mustache. And crowded! You could hardly believe such crowds! Off to one side of the parking lot the tour buses were rolling in with their loads of foreign visitors, Chinese and Argen tines and Swedes; they had special entrances and were waved through by special guards who greeted them, some of the time anyway, in their own native languages- "Willkommen! and "Bon jour! and "Ey there, mate! -as long as they didn't speak anything like Urdu or SerboCroatian, anyway. For the foreign tourists didn't have to pay in the usual way; they bought their tickets in their country of origin, with valuable foreign exchange, and then everything was free for them.
Of course it wasn't like that for the regular American fairgoers. They had to pay. You could see each family group moving up toward the ticket windows. They would slow down as they got closer and finally stop, huddling together while they decided how to pay, and then one or two of them, or all of them, would move on to the window and reach into the admissions cuff for their tickets. Randolph Baxter had long before made up his mind that there would be no such wrangles on this day for his family. He said simply, "Wait here a minute, and strode up to the window by himself. He put his arm into the cuff, smiled at the ticket attendant, and said grandly, "I'll take five, please.
The ticket seller looked at him admiringly. "You know, she offered, "there aren't that many daddies who'll take all the little fellows in like that. Sometimes they make even tiny babies get their own tickets. Baxter gave her a modest I-do-what-I-can shrug, though he could not help that his smile was a little strained until all five tickets had clicked out of the roll. He bore them proudly back to his family and led them through the turnstiles.
"My, what a crowd, sighed Millicent Baxter happily as she gazed around. "Now, what shall we do first?
The response was immediate. "See the old automobiles, yelled Simon, and, "No, the animals! and, "No, the stiffs! cried his sisters.
Randolph Baxter spoke sharply to them-not angrily but firmly. "There will be no fighting over what we do, he commanded. "We'll vote on what we do, the democratic way. No arguments and no exceptions. Now, he added, "the first thing we're going to do is that you kids will stay right here while your mother and I get tickets for the job lottery. The parents left the children arguing viciously among themselves and headed for the nearest lottery booth. Randolph Baxter could not help a tingle of excitement, and his wife's eyes were gleaming, as they studied the prize list. The first prize was the management of a whole apartment building-twenty-five thousand dollars a year salary and a free three-room condo thrown in!
Millicent read his thoughts as they stood in line. "Don't you just wish! she whispered. "But personally I'd settle for any of the others. Look, there's even a job for an English teacher! Randolph shook his head wordlessly. It was just marvelous-five full-time jobs offered in this one raffle, and that not the biggest of the day. The last one, after the fireworks, always had the grandest of prizes. "Aren't you glad we came? Millicent asked, and her husband nodded.
But in fact he wasn't, altogether, at least until they safely got their tickets and were on their way back to the children, and then he was quickly disconcerted to see that the kids weren't where they had been left. "Oh, hell, groaned Randolph. It was early in the day for them to get lost.
But they weren't very far. His wife said sharply, "There they are. And look what they're doing! They were at a refreshment stand. And each one of them had a huge cone of frozen custard. "L told them not to make any purchases when we weren't with them! Millicent cried, but in fact it was worse than that. The children were talking to a pair of strange grownups, a lean, fair, elderly woman with a sharp, stern face and a round, dark-skinned man with a bald head and immense tortoise-shell glasses.
As the Baxters approached, the woman turned to them apologetically. "Oh, hullo, she said, "you must be the parents. I do hope you'll forgive us. Mr. Katsubishi and I seem to have lost our tour, and your children kindly helped us look for it. "it's all right, Dad, Simon put in swiftly. "They're on this foreign tour, see, and everything's free for them anyway. Dad? Why can't we get on a tour and have everything free?
"We're Americans, his father explained, smiling tentatively at the tall English-looking woman and the tubby, cheerful Japanese-he decided that they didn't look like depraved child molesters. "You have to be an international tourist to get these unlimited tickets. And I bet they cost quite a lot of money, don't they? he appealed to the man, who smiled and shrugged and looked at the woman.
"Mr. Katsubishi doesn't speak English very well, she apologized. "I'm Rachel Millay. Mrs. Millay, that is, although my dear husband left us some years ago. She glanced about in humorous distress. "I don't suppose you've seen a tour leader carrying a green and violet flag with a cross of St. Andrew on it?
Since Randolph Baxter had no idea what a cross of St. Andrew looked like, it was hard to say. In any case, there were at least twenty tour parties in sight, each with its own individual pennant or standard, trudging in determined merriment toward the pavilions, the rides, or the refreshment stands. "I'm afraid not, he began, and then paused as his wife clutched his arm. The P.A. system crackled, and the winners of the first drawing were announced.
Neither of the Baxters was among them. "Well, there are six more drawings, said Millicent bravely, not adding that there were also six more sets of raffle tickets to buy if they wanted any hope of winning one of them. Her husband smiled cheerfully at the children.
"What's it to be? he asked generously. "The life exhibit? The concert-
"We already voted, Dad, cried Emma, his elder daughter. "It's the animals!
"No, the stiffs!" yelled her baby sister.
"The old autos, cried Simon. "Anyway, there won't be any stiffs there until later, not to speak of!