A short break from all the drama.... John Umland and Sammy Meeks were not people who had much in common. They were both Beaters and they both had at least one unnatural parent. There, John was pretty sure, ended their similarities. His family was large and traditional; hers was miniscule and modern. His family was Canadian – hers was American. Knowledge was as essential as breath and food and water to him – academics did not seem such a priority to her. He was terribly with people – she had always, at school, been surrounded by largish numbers of people, confirming his idea that she was good with them, or at least significantly more skilled than he was. These differences were more than enough to outweigh their two similarities.
Nevertheless, in his last year at school, they had somehow ended up friends. At first, John was relatively confident, they had both just had no-one better to talk to – his friend had graduated, hers had mostly gone away – but by the end of the year, John had gotten the distinct impression that Sammy had done something not dissimilar to what Joanie had done when they were very young – taken him in hand in some way – and that sense had seemed confirmed when he’d found himself abruptly included in the family at the Concert. Admittedly, it had been weird and he tongue-tied more often than not, but it had been a kind gesture and he had appreciated it.
Despite all this, however, he had expected the year to make an end of it. His lasting friendships were the ones that were based on intellectual affinity, after all, and Sammy was not one to talk over intricate details of potions theory or concoct secret languages with. This was why it was a surprise to receive communications from her after leaving school, including an invitation.
He saw no reason to accept intrinsically, but after some thought, he did see some advantages. The chiefest was to settle his mother’s nerves – she seemed frightened that if she let him out of her sight, he’d vanish altogether again, so seeing that he could go and then come back would, he thought, be good for her. It was his fault her nerves were shaken now, after all – this was an amends he could make without going to prison, and one he had to make before he went to school in the autumn, otherwise he wasn’t sure she would stand it well, not so soon after Julian’s planned marriage. He had already considered trying to transfer at once to somewhere nearer to home than he had originally planned to stay, but had decided in the end to stay his course as long as it did not trouble the family too much.
This was how John came to find himself at some kind of American festival. Americans were an odd lot, of course, no-one questioned that, but John was increasingly sure that this was odd even for them. For one thing, there did not seem to be many normal families in attendance. For another thing, there was either a clown convention going on at the same time or an unnatural number of people temporarily deciding to wear excessive color – John, in what he’d normally consider a perfectly normal, seasonally appropriate short-sleeved blue-and-green plaid shirt, belt, and jeans, thought he must look almost funereal in present company, which made him sort of think he ought to remove his sunglasses even though the sun was quite bright. For yet another thing, John was pretty sure that he’d just seen some Unitarians.
His natural instinct, upon seeing Unitarians, was to go pick an argument with them. They weren’t as much fun to fight with as, say, Baptists, but they were still so blatantly wrong that they could keep him entertained for quite some time. He checked himself briefly, though, remembering that Mom and Joanie and his siblings all told him it wasn't nice to be the one to start arguments with Protestants and trying to figure out if they would all additionally, in his present circumstances, tell him it was extra-rude to go have an argument when he was someone’s guest, and in the process, noticed some signs some of the apparent Unitarians had. These distracted him enough that he decided there was something he probably should have asked Sammy earlier and definitely ought to ask now.
“Ah – Sammy,” he said. “Exactly what kind of festival is this?”