Distraut enjoyment

THE OUTING  

 

The young children stand, watch every motion. They laugh. They clap. This time there is no remote to click, no restricted programs. Judy punches Punch. Punch punches her back, wallops her over her head. Sugar floss candy gets stuck in Sandy's hair. A melting popsicle stains Janet's pale pink blouse. To me, the chocolate and pink together look like blood. I turn away and concentrate on the happy children.  

 

Charley starts the motor but it doesn't react. He tries it again and again with no response, contacts the service department for help. The kids jabber, don't seem to care that we are stuck for heaven knows how long. Not one but two parents leave their seats to ask the driver how long we will have to wait. He stands and announces, 'Thirty five to forty minutes. You may leave the bus but if you aren't back then I will leave without you.' Little Maybelle screams. 'Jimmy, punched me and hit me with a rolled up comic book. 'His Mom grabs him by his shirt and pulls him off the bus.

 

Our driver honks the horn to get our attention. In a loud, gruff voice, he warns everyone to behave or get off and stay off. Most get off and start to wander around aimlessly. The fair rides entice the children but I suggest we all stay close together rather than getting lost in the crowd. The thirty minutes move quickly for some, drag to others. I go back to the bus alone for more info. To appease me, the driver calls service again. Sheepishly he hangs his head when he tells me it will be another hour. The few on board who decide to get off too and I return to the fair. I tell whoever I meet that I will try to get a refund  for the cost of the bus. Nobody is angry at me, hardly complain.

 

Little Joanie begs to see Punch and Judy again but the curtain is closed, no sign is posted for the next show. That doesn't stop my kids from groaning and applauding to nothing. Joanie asks her mom to pick her up. When she is high enough, Joanie tries to pull the curtain open. Her mother slaps her hand and puts her down. That gives me an idea. As nonchalantly as I can, I leave the group, walk around behind the stage where I find an elderly couple sitting on folding chairs, smoking and drinking something cold. 'Are you the performers of Punch and Judy?' I ask. They nod a yes and I tell them my tale of woe and how much my group enjoyed them and ask the impossible. 'Could you do another show for them?' Well, their exuberance shocks me. They will gladly do it, free. This is their joy, their life. The gray haired man says, 'Go, Go, gather the children. We will start in just ten minutes.'

 

I look across the parking lot and see our bus is where it was. There is no second empty bus nearby. At a fast walk, I manage to tell him where we will all be and how soon we will return. All thirty children and six parents are accounted for. We wait to see Punch and Judy again. Instead, canned music comes over the loud speaker. As the curtain slides back I recognize the singer's voice. It is Leslie Caron singing 'Hi, Lily, Hi, Lily' and chills run down my back. Marionettes dance. Everyone on and off the wooden stage is happy. The old lady controls the strings and lets Lily bend over, bow a thank you, throw kisses to the audience. White gloved hands toss lollipops to the children. The music stops  and the curtain closes.

 

We all board the new bus that has arrived. Its motor purrs. Once we are on the road, I start to sing, 'Hi Lily, Hi, Lily, Hi, Lo.' The bad part of the trip is soon forgotten.

 

Each child now owns a disc of 'Hi Lily' given to them by the old couple who live to do what they do.