Removing her soaked clothes, Monica tosses them onto the side of the dressing booth. She shivers as the evening air caresses her damp skin. Reaching for the dress Percy had given her, Monica draws it over her head. When she looks up, her wet clothes are no longer hanging on the wall of the booth. The clown must have taken the clothes to dry them. Good. The sooner they get out of this strange place the better.

In the neighboring booth, Joaquin performs the same task. Monica smiles inwardly, at the sound of Joaquin's sopping wet jeans slapping against the top of his booth. It almost feels like home.

Joaquin is always throwing his discarded clothes over the shower curtain in their apartment. And every time, Monica tells him to take it down. The next day, he does it all over again. If she didn't love Joaquin, she'd run him out of the house every time he did it. But she does love Joaquin. So she doesn't.

Monica steps out from her booth first. She nearly runs smack into Percy the Clown as she rounds the corner. An uncomfortable laugh escapes Monica's lips and she attempts to squeeze by him, averting her gaze.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry."

"The master sent me to ask if you need anything else. Are you dry enough? Do you need more towels?"

Monica emphatically shakes her head. She still refuses to meet Percy's gaze. Once was enough, and what she had seen in his eyes was more than she cared to admit.

"No. I think we're fine."

"That is good," Percy says in a soft voice. "The master would like you to join us for a meal. The storm is still very heavy. We were preparing to eat before you arrived. Please join us."

Joaquin exits his booth and comes to stand behind Monica, placing his hands on her shoulders. Monica can't help but notice how Percy's eyes narrow, his purple lips twitching slightly.

"Did you say food, brother? I am there. Lead the way, my man. I am hungry."

Percy's mood becomes one of disinterest and he offers Joaquin a small head nod.

"This way," Percy says dryly.

Percy leads the couple toward the opposite corner of the enormous tent. The ringmaster is seated at a circular table covered by a deep purple tablecloth. On the table are various covered dishes and a bottle of what appears to be red wine. The ringmaster motions for Monica and Joaquin to be seated.

Joaquin pulls two of the chairs closer together and waits for Monica to sit down. He takes the other chair, adjusting himself to get closer to the table. The ringmaster and Percy study the couple with blank expressions.

"Well...It smells really good," Monica says, uncomfortably shifting in her chair. "Funny, I don't remember smelling any food when we first came in."

The ringmaster intertwines her fingers and leans forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table.

"Percy was out back preparing the food when you arrived."

"Oh," Monica replies.

Percy chooses the seat directly opposite Monica and stares across the table at her. Monica reaches and grasps Joaquin's left hand. Joaquin has no idea what is going on. His mind is now on food.

"So what we got going on here?" Joaquin exclaims, eyeing the covered dishes with growing hunger.

Nodding her head in Percy's direction, the ringmaster gives him a silent order. Percy rises from his seat at the table and places a empty platter in front of each partaker. When he gets to Monica, he sets the plate down very carefully and purposely brushes her left arm with his right elbow. Monica absently glances up, and their eyes meet. Percy takes this opportunity to list every item available on the menu, his expression and his voice conveying a much deeper message.

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"For appetizers, we have tea eggs and antipasto. We also have a salad, should the lady wish it. For the main course...Turkey roasted in white wine with potatoes. Dessert is a delicious rice pudding. Topped off with red wine."

Percy finishes with his list of mealtime edibles and offers Monica a sly wink. Monica struggles against the voice in the back of her mind. The voice screaming for her to leave this tent with its odd occupants. But what has the strange clown really done other than be kind to her? And being kind isn't a crime. Not yet, anyway.

"Sounds delicious," Monica says.

The clown's grin grows wider and he nods affirmatively.

"It is very delicious. I prepared the rice pudding from a very old recipe. Very special. I had no idea I would be sharing my masterpiece with a very special lady...," at this, Percy looks over at Joaquin. "And her husband."

Joaquin seems not to notice the slight. He is too concerned with the food sitting covered on the table. Percy's lip quivers once again and he stands to his full height.

The unhappy clown lifts the lid on a platter at the center of the table. Four upside down glasses are situated neatly on the platter. Percy takes two of the glasses and places one in front of Monica and Joaquin, respectively. Next, he carefully pours each of them a full glass of red wine. Joaquin shrugs and raises his glass in a humorous toast.

"Here I am drinking red wine and it ain't even New Years...Or my birthday."

Monica lets a tiny laugh slip, causing Percy's eyes to drift once again in her direction. Monica does not notice. She is too busy straightening out the material of her borrowed dress. Joaquin takes a sip of his wine and smacks his lips.

"Man, this stuff is good. What year is it?"

The ringmaster chuckles and stares across the table at Joaquin, a faint smile on her purple painted lips. She reclines her chin into the palm of one hand, dropping her voice to a sultry whisper.

"A very good year. That bottle is very old. I figured you could both use some good luck after being caught in that terrible storm. The wine should help to strengthen you and keep you warm."

"Hmm," Joaquin says, taking another sip of his wine.

By now, Percy has begun dispersing the food. Monica studies the piece of turkey on her plate like it is a science project. She pokes the meat with her fork before taking a bite of her antipasto instead. Percy watches Monica lift the food to her mouth, his tongue briefly licking the bottom of his upper lip.

As Monica picks at her food, Joaquin focuses more on his glass of wine. Before long, his glass is nearly empty. The ringmaster's smile grows wider.

"More wine?" She says in a knowing voice.

"Oh...Uh...Yeah. That stuff is good."

Percy pours Joaquin another glass of wine and then sits down in his seat across from Monica.

"Try the pudding," Percy insists. "I want to know how you like it."

"Okay. Sure," Monica says uncomfortably.

The young woman spoons a small portion of rice pudding into her mouth. Percy studies Monica as she carefully chews. When she swallows, he follows the path of her food with his keen eyes. Satisfied, Percy grins happily.

"Delicious?"

"Yes, very," Monica says, a spark of excitement creeping into her voice.

No longer timid, Monica lifts another spoonful of rice pudding to her lips. Percy's eyes narrow to small slits and his grin takes on a less agreeable nature. To Monica's right, Joaquin shakes his head as if trying to clear away cobwebs.

"Whoa. What year did you say that wine was from, Ma'am? I feel kind of weird. Like, my head is spinning."

"I didn't," the ringmaster states cryptically.

"Huh?" Joaquin stammers, his vision blurring. "Whoa. What the hell?"

Monica's delight, over her rice pudding, has grown manic. She shovels spoonfuls of rice pudding into her mouth--one after the other. Percy calmly reaches across the table and slides the dish containing the rest of the rice pudding closer to Monica.

Monica grabs up the entire dish of rice pudding and begins shoveling it into her mouth with her right hand. Before long, the dish is completely empty. Monica uses her index finger to get out every crumb and morsel. She looks around as if expecting to find more.

Joaquin loses consciousness and falls out of his chair, lying on the floor in a collapsed heap. Monica peers down at her incapacitated husband and angles her head in detached disbelief.

"Joaquin? What's wrong?"

Percy climbs from his chair and comes to stand behind Monica. Just as she passes out. Grabbing Monica up from her chair, Percy holds her snugly to his chest and grins. He turns to face his master. She is grinning as well.