The rays of sunlight peeking through the broken blinds shine directly on my hand which hangs limp over the edge of the bed. Stirring slightly, I brush back the hairs that have stuck to my hot neck.

   My blinds should just quit their job seeing how it's not the best at keeping out any unwanted sunlight. Thankfully the light doesn't annoy my eyes too much so I can brush it off, turning my back to the window and closing my eyes, wanting to slip back into my dreams.

   "Watch me not be able to remember that dream. Of course I would wake up at the time it was getting interesting." Grumbling to myself, I squeeze my eyes shut so tight little blurs of color dance behind my eyelids.

   Lying there, burying my face into the cool cushion of my pillow, I groan, frustrated at my inability to fall mercifully back to sleep.

   "If I had the opportunity to be given one superpower, I would, hands down, have the ability to fall back to sleep and resume my dream whenever I want." Stupid thinking, but that's my mind in the mornings.

   Finally, I give up, leaving my eyes open to stare blankly at the wall, letting out a peeved sigh through my nostrils.

   It's almost like an alarm clock, my mind. The thought is there, but only rings out and registers at a certain set time which I don't assign. The clock must have just gone off as I stared there at the wall, studying the numerous smugs like they mean something deeper. My eyes widen in surprise at the thought.

   "The town festival! It's today!"

   Jittery excitement overtakes me. Usually, I'm eager the night before, barely able to get a wink in during the night, but last night I was so exhausted- mostly mentally- that I fell into sleep almost immediately upon hitting the pillow.

   Aware now of what today may hold, I push off the covers, swing my legs out, and before I can step out unknowingly, my mind catches up and I look down before setting my foot down somewhere.

   Xalale is peacefully asleep still (what else) below me, without the prospect of getting up anytime soon. That will be changing.

   Before I take the time to wake him, though, I head out of the room to change. Coming back in is when I decide to kneel beside him, close to his ear to whisper.

   "Xalale. Xalale."

   If I recall correctly, Xalale isn't too heavy of a sleeper, but it takes more than calling to wake him, so I resort to the next tactic- a light tap on the shoulder.

   "Xalale." I give up trying to use an indoor, docile tone.

   This, thankfully, stirs him enough for him to look at me, his eyes squinted against the morning light.

   "What?" Despite his hard look, his voice is surprisingly mellow.

   "The town festival's being held today."

   I'm waiting for a look of acknowledgment to register across his expression, but he continues to give me an expecting look as though wondering why I woke him up.

   "And," I continue. "It's a ton of fun that last for the whole day."

   Waiting for that realization- or at least some picked interest- to come. Nothing.

   "Have fun," He's already closing his eyes to fall back asleep. "Do you know when you might return?"

    I let out a slightly exasperated sigh at having to spell it out in the sand for him.

   "I kind of expected us to go together."

   He opens his eyes again, this time, sitting up to look at me with question.

   "Come on," I give a reassuring smile. "It'll be fun. There're games and music and food, most important of all, of course."

   He appears to be in thought over this until finally, he gets up without giving an answer and searches for some clothes.

   "It'll be fun, I promise."

    He still has a bit of uncertainty lingering on his face as he slips out to change. I'm excited now, ready for the day ahead. I get to working on braiding my hair into two French braids, already feeling good about today.

    Understandably enough, this seems to be one of the only days I enjoy living in a place like Cauldron; there's so much to enjoy on this day. I guess it makes up for the lack enjoyment I experience here on a day-to-day basis.

   About halfway through my second braid, Xalale renters still not looking as pumped as I am right now. There's still a trace of unenthusiasm to him, so I attempt to get him in the spirit of things.

   "Don't you like festivals?"

   "I've never been to one."

   I stop, still holding my hair, facing him with disbelief.

   "Never?"

   "I told you, there isn't much to celebrate on Edalirwen."

   "Well, then you should be excited to attend your first one. It's a celebration for Cauldron's founding. The 119th anniversary, I think."

   "Hm." Still too apathetic for my taste, but what should I expect from him.

   After finishing my braiding, I make sure I'm ready to head out, once that's done I look over at him, sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at his ring.

   "Ready?"

   "I suppose."

   "Good."

   It's only as we're leaving, starting our trek towards town, with me explaining every so often about the festival, does my slow mind catch up with me. I pause mid-sentence, freezing place. Xalale comes to a halt as well.

   "What?"

   Placing a hand on my forehead, I shake my head.

   "Stupid me," I mutter. "Such an idiot."

   "What's wrong?"

   Shaking my head again, I walk to the side of the street.

   "I'm a moron, I really am."

   I must've been so eager and excited that I completely glossed over the fact that since this is the town festival, everyone who's everyone is going to be there. We've gotten away with Xalale being in town- by the skin our teeth, to be honest- because not everyone's spotted us together, it's just been hearsay that a stranger's in town. Now here I am, planning to waltz in there with him and act like nothing's out of the ordinary. Mrs. Sherman and Mrs. Emmerich are going to be there, not to mention my parents who might die if they spot me with Xalale.

   The worry is starting to settle in, and as I stand there on the side of the road with Xalale giving me a concerned look, I feel my day slowly complicating itself.

   "What on earth am I going to do? How am I going to fix this-"

   Then, I stop. I stop worrying, I stop overcomplicating things, and I breathe. Just taking a deep breath and clearing all the clutter out of my head gets me in a better place. My brain then resorts to its next thought.

     "So what? So. What." Who cares, at this point, if I come waltzing in boldly with a stranger? I don't. Cauldron needs to get over this fear- or whatever it is- about strangers. The world's a big place and there's always going to be people you don't know, who are going to be strangers to you. There's no stay out sign on the welcome sign, so strangers can come in whenever they please. "Forget Cauldron mentality."

    With that, I shrug off my worries and start back towards town again, giving Xalale a reassuring smile.

   "Sorry, just had to think for a minute."

   A swift look of suspicion comes and goes, but he follows with commenting.

   We continue on, passing the town welcome sign which does announce that it is, in fact, the 119th anniversary of Cauldron's founding.

   Streamers crisscross across the top of the street lamps creating a nice, intricate pattern of navy, purple, and white- the town colors. Paper lanterns also hang on houses, sure to appear enchanting once the sun goes down. Heading toward the main drag, we pass people already out and about; children riding around on their bikes and scooters, adults engaging in conversations with one another. All take notice of us as we pass, their stares being noted. Worry nags me, but I have to brush it off, keeping my eyes straight ahead, ignoring them.

   "Just ignore the negativity. They're not even there." I coach myself.

   We arrive in the heart of town where all the activity is bustling. Cauldron is so alive and energized, it's refreshing to see and reminds me why this is my favorite day of the year to live here.

    All the stores are neatly decorated with the town colors, as is the park, the main center of activity. The doors to the stores are open and some, mostly the eatery places, have tables set out front with samples of things to try or sell. The streets are closed off to allow for pedestrians to roam around unconcerned about vehicles. It also allows for chalk artists to doodle designs freely on the street. All around there's joy and good feelings, neighbors helping neighbors, friends and family coming together, it's harmony. I can already smell the different foods coming from all around- my favorite part. This collection of people is also good for us to camouflage in and mingle among the crowd.

    "Come on," I guide him by the arm, making our way to the sidewalk where we pass by a few shops.

    I take something from nearly every table to try: decorative chocolates and fruits, homemade caramel and butterscotch, a cake pop that I swing around twice for, even a nice ribbon purple ribbon to tie in my hair. Xalale just follows along, not trying anything, just there.

   "You know," I lick my lollipop. "Festivals are about enjoying the atmosphere and all it has to offer."

   "Hm."

   Shrugging him off, I decide to indulge myself.

   All these stares and fixed smiles are bothersome, but as long as we don't engage them they won't even mention Xalale. I'm praying we can make it through the whole day like this.

   "I was thinking," I begin. "We should head over to see how they decorated the Methodist church. They always deck it out so elegantly on-"

   "Axel! Mal!"

   Though we can't see him, we stop, knowing he's around here somewhere. His bouncing, reddish curls shine in the sunlight as he swivels between people and bounds up to up, his eager lit with excitement.

   "Hey, you guys should come see me participate in the races, they start soon." He says, breathlessly.

   "You're gonna be out of breath before you even start," I say.

   But this kid's so full of energy, he could run circles around Olympic runners on his off days.

   "How's your knee? Is it going to bother you when you're running?"

   "Nope, I'm good as new. It doesn't even hurt. See." He hops around, no sign of injury in his affected knee.

   "Oh, that's good. Xalale was worrying himself to death over you."

   While Xalale shoots me a dirty look, Clifford brightens at this.

   "Really?"

   He gives an annoyed sigh, "Concern and worry are two different things."

   Sometimes it's admirable how Clifford has no qualms about ignoring personal space as he hugs Xalale, who seems mildly irritated at this, but doesn't push him off. Clifford then takes hold of our hands, trying to pull us along.

   "Come on, I wanna get a good spot before they start."

   "Slow down," I say, reclaiming my hand. "There'll be plenty of time for racing when the races begin.

   He pauses, then exclaims something as though in remembrance.

   "Oh, yeah! You guys should meet Dean. He's here today with my mom and he's really cool. Did you know he's hiked the entire- what is it...oh, yeah, Appalachian Trail?" His lips fly a mile a minute just gushing about how awesome and amazing Dean is. I interrupt him, giving him time to breathe.

    "Isn't this the same Dean you thought would hate you?"

   He grins sheepishly, "Yeah, but he's really really cool and you should both meet him. He can speak Russian!"

   I smile, "Of course, maybe after the races."

   "Right. Let's go!"

   We follow him over to the park where a crowd has gather for the races taking place in the open field. When we arrive, I can already see kids lining up, two to a team it looks like. Sydney comes trudging over with an expression of annoyance.

  "Cliff, where have you been? The race is about to start."

  He ran ahead of us, so he's already out of breath as he tries to explain himself. She rolls her eyes, dragging him along by the arm to the starting point. He waves at us eagerly as he takes his place.

   We stand amongst the bystanders, watching as the announcer, RJ Osler, announces the rules of the race.

   "Alright, folks, so a simple three-legged race is what this is, just from here to there, then wheelbarrow it home. Any questions? Of course not, get ready and tie yourselves up now."

   Sydney and Clifford are a team, don't know how that's going to work seeing how competitive Sydney is compared to Clifford. Tucker and Otis are together, of course, the most likely pair to win due to their athleticism and teamwork. There's about six other pairs, all rearing to go.

   Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Mrs. Mershire standing with a barrel-chested, gruff looking man with blond hair and beard- almost mountain man like. I'm assuming that's the Dean Clifford was talking about. They're smiling at Clifford, who's- from the look of it- is getting yelled at by Sydney already. Mrs. Mershire has her camera ready, aimed at her kid.

   The kids are all tied up with their partners so RJ gives his whistle a shrill blow and they're off. As assumed, Tucker and Otis get off to a great start, leading the pack in unison with each other, while Sydney and Clifford struggle from the getgo. At least they weren't dead last, another pair seems to be having complications.

   I can say, though, that Sydney sure does have a good set of lungs, as can be heard from the sidelines.

   "Clifford, I swear, if you don't work with me, so help me God!"

    Even with the harassment from her, Clifford's spirits are still high as he grins, waving at us from the field. This only vexes her all the more and she begins practically dragging Clifford down the field toward the finish. I'm guessing Sydney has some deep rivalry with Tucker or something the way she keeps scowling at him.

     Tucker and Otis have reached the other side of the field where they quickly untie their legs and get into wheelbarrow position, not before taking advantage of the huge lead they were in, giving each other cocky grins and friendly nudges. Otis acts like the wheelbarrow and Tucker the pusher. With Sydney and Clifford, it seems Sydney doing most of the work- I guess she doesn't understand that this is a team effort.

    The race doesn't last too long as Tucker and Otis have passed the finish, throwing a loud celebration between the two of them. Sydney and Clifford were about to untie their legs.

   "Alright, alright," RJ makes his way over to the celebrating duo. "Looks like we have our two champions here. Tucker Schemewic and Otis Watson, congrats you two."

   They beam with pride, looking like kings. If she wasn't too busy starting a wildfire with her eyes, I'm sure Sydney would be putting Clifford through the ringer. Clifford clearly isn't here to win races but more so for the fun of the experience, and he bounds over to congratulate the boastful two. Afterward, he skips over to us, gleefully.

   "That was fun. Did you see me?"

   "Of course," I reply. "You were great."

   He rubs his ear, "Yeah, but Sydney sure is a loudmouth. Yellin' in my ear the whole way."

   Just like an excitable puppy, something or someone catches his eye and he darts off saying he'll see us around.

   "So," I get Xalale's attention. "Are you starting to warm up to festivals?"

   "It hasn't been unenjoyable."

   His tone still reads of one simply going through the motions, not truly experiencing it yet.

   "It'll come," I say confidently.

   He gives me this unconvinced look that I ignore, instead beginning to head in the direct of the pavilion where I smell the smokey scent of an open flame grilling something. My nose is definitely on point as I discover the choice of the day: cookout foods.

   People gather in the pavilion to congregate and escape the sun which is gradually beginning to heat up the day. Even though most people are in vivid conversation with each other, their Cauldron senses tingle, alerting them to a stranger. They stare at us- more specifically Xalale- as we pass them, but even across the pavilion the pause to watch.

    "Pretend they're not even there."

   I get in line to get some food, peering over the selection of goods. Xalale stands behind me in line but doesn't get anything.

   "Should I get a hot dog or a hamburger?" I ask aloud, not really to anyone in particular. "I'll get both. The more the merrier."

   I can sense their blazing stares boring down on us like we're prey. It's a matter of who's bold enough to confront us first. The answer comes in the grandiose voice of Mrs. Verma.

  "Mallory."

   Should I or shouldn't I, that's always the question.

  "Yes?" I have to. Mrs. Verma is one of those people that, like a pesky insect, won't go away until you attempt to swat her away.

  She has a homemade fan clutched in one hand and the other to her wrinkly chest. Even though she's wearing a ridiculous sun hat, I can tell she's wearing that rat's nest of a wig she's always parading around in.

   She attempts to mask the look of shock on her face by playing off what she hurried so quickly over here for.

   "I hope you're enjoying yourself so far today."

   "Yeah," I resume making food selections.

   "I assume you're being quite friendly."

    "Well, gotta give credit where credit is due. It didn't take her long to jump to the chase. She's no Mrs. Sherman."

  "My parents taught me to be kind to everyone."

   "Yes, yes...talking to strangers is a good lesson."

   I'm acting like she's not even saying anything worthwhile, which she's not on my accord. Nothing new about bored, nosy old ladies.

   "Now you know, Mallory," Her sweet, grandma voice switching on. "Not everybody is trustworthy. We can't go willy-nilly inviting people we don't know. I enjoy meeting new people all the time, just...appropriately."

   I make careful sure to keep my face placid and my tone even as I speak, picking up a fruit cup.

   "Well, Mrs. Verma, I mean to be considerate when I say, if everyone were to meet new people like you, we'd have a world full of anti-social, trite, self-righteous individuals who can't even bring themselves to welcome someone new instead of talk about them as though they don't understand the English language."

   My calm, unwavering eyes meet with her wide, shocked ones. I give a terse smile as I finish preparing my plate. She makes a half strangled, offended gasp then opens her mouth as if to say something, instead walking away with hurried steps. Shrugging, I get a soda from the cooler and look back at Xalale.

    "Anywhere in particular you want to sit?"

   "Anywhere you want is fine." He replies.

   So I lead us out of the pavilion to one of the tables under a tree. There's actually a pleasant breeze that visits us every now and then which does aid in keeping us cool. Unfortunately, we only get to enjoy the cool conditions for only a moment when my name is called out.

   "Mallory," Libby calls, Doug trailing behind her. She smiles her brilliant white grin at us. "You busy?"

   I look down at my food as if to give her a hint, but she continue smiling down at me like an idiot so I swallow my bite of food and reply,

   "What's up?"

   "There's a race about to happen- a team race- and we saw you over here just chilling and thought why not."

   Doug pipes in, "Yeah, RJ's not saying what it is, but it'll be fun. How 'bout it? Me and Lib versus you and Axel."

   Even though I'm really not feeling it; especially being that, one, I have to leave my food, and two, it's a race. But I'm hoping maybe doing this will get Xalale in the spirit of things.

  "So," I look at Xalale, now. "What do you say?"

   There's apparent reluctance expressed by him, but I give him a look that reads: It won't be as bad as you think. So he gives the briefest of sighs, signaling surrender.

   I look back up at the two of them.

   "Why not."

   Libby claps with glee and Doug gives a dimpled grin.

   "Awesome," She squeaks excitedly. "RJ will make an announcement in a few minutes. Just don't be sore when you guys lose to us."

   With that, they hurry off leaving me starting to regret this decision. But nevertheless, I gave my word so there's no backing out of this now, especially since I'm mainly doing this to get Xalale in the festive mood. Even if I wanted to back out, RJ is already booming out the announcement.

   "Since we had a race for the kids, it would only be fair if we had one for the teens. Gather 'round, gather 'round. You'll want a reliable partner for this."

   I attempt to appear interested in this for the sake of Xalale, who's looking like I'm dragging him to his own funeral, but I'm just praying we get through this nice and easy.

   We're such a stark contrast to the overly adrenalized Doug and Libby. There are about four other pairs lined up at the starting point.

   "You guys psyched?" Libby beams.

   "Kinda...I guess," I give a weak smile.

   They seem like they have this figured out- good for them. It wouldn't be so bad if there weren't as many onlookers as there are, maybe a smaller crowd I would feel more at ease, I don't know. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Clifford, Tucker, and Otis standing on the sidelines looking eager- they wave at us.

   "Let's get down to business," RJ begins in his orotund voice. "So, teams, decide who's the best between the two of you with giving directions."

   I look at Xalale. I have not a clue which one of us is the best with directions. It's my natural instinct to want to go with myself, but I couldn't talk a rock out of a bag, plus Xalale is pretty satisfactory with describing things.

   "What do you want to do?" He questions.

   "You do it."

   "Fine."

    Next to us, Doug is nominated the direction person, leaving me to wonder what I and Libby are tasked with doing. We get our answer when RJ speaks up again.

   "I hoped you picked a good GPS person or at least someone trustworthy. Now, the partner who wasn't picked, you get the funniest task-" He holds up a bandana with a mischievous, impish grin. "The goal is simple. Get from point A- where you are right now- to point B while being blindfolded. Thankfully you got your trusty friend to guide you to the other side."

    "Yeah...I don't like where this is going."

   He begins handing out bandanas. I have to give it to Libby and Doug, they sure do seem so unconcerned about this "simple" challenge, Libby tying the cloth tight over her eyes. Everybody is all smiles, brushing this off as nothing, so, with reluctance, I tie on my bandana, the dark material blinding me to the bright sunlight.

   "Oh boy," I breathe a shaky breath.

   "Awesome. Now remember, this is all about trust and reliance on your partner, hoping they don't lead you into danger- hopefully they like you enough not to do that. Guiders, you need patience and accuracy with your directions. So let's get to it. On your mark, get set, go!"

   The shrill of the whistle rings out and I can already hear the excited crowded and other pairs already starting. Next to me, Doug's voice is clear as a bell.

   "Okay, Lib, I need you to just walk straight ahead."

   "Like this?"

   "Yeah, perfect. Just keep going, you're good."

    But the only person I need to listen to is Xalale, who gives me my first directions.

   "Go left."

   "What!?" I chose him because I thought he was good at describing things. "Go left where!? My left or your left? Why aren't I going straight!?"

   "Just go your left."

   Even though I don't get it, all I can do at this point is follow his instructions hoping he knows best (I doubt it, though).

   My footing is tentative, slow baby steps is the way I'm doing it. Xalale is not like Doug at all, giving reassurance. He just shuts up while I blindly go about this. I'm assuming I'm still good, that is until he corrects me.

   "You're turning too much, go right then straight a bit."

    "Why didn't I go straight from the getgo!?"

   I attempt to go where he's telling me to, but uncertainty clouds my mind.

   "Yeah, so far you all are like a foot from the starting point," RJ chuckles. "I don't know whether that's because the guiders suck or the trustees. Well anyway, just a heads up for you all. I'm sure the guiders have noticed, but there are various hazards planted along the field. Your partner will not see them. It's the guider's job to help their partner avoid twisting their ankle, stepping on things that shouldn't be stopped on, falling in the mud. I'm starting to think we should have made you sign a waiver."

   "Wait, there's mud!?" A female's voice cries out.

   RJ chuckles. "That's for your partners to tell you."

    "Jesus, I knew this was a bad idea."

   "Doug?" Libby sounds a bit uncertain now.

    Not Doug.

   "Relax, I see it all. Keep on coming forward, straight ahead."

   It's killing me how unresponsive Xalale is at this point.

   "Xalale?"

   "Go right."

   "You have to tell me which way," I complain.

   "I told you right," Annoyance is beginning to creep into his voice.

   "My right or your right?"

   "Yours, of course."

   "That's all you had to say."

    I start to the right a bit, still not trusting my footing. I take about two steps before I hear Doug cry out.

   "Stop! Lib, go...left, yeah, go left."

   "Wha? What's there?"

   "Just go left."

   She makes a hesitate noise.

    I'm still traveling right, keeping cautious, when Xalale speaks up, though his and Doug's urgent words get entangled.

    "What are you-"

     Libby and I figure out their warning the moment we slam into each other, knock heads.

    "Dammit," I seethe, as we back up. I'm sure both of us are rubbing our heads.

    "Why didn't you tell us." Libby whimpers.

    "Uh, we tried," Doug replies. "Lib, you gotta come straight again."

    I'm still massaging my forehead when Xalale speaks up.

    "Are you okay?"

    "Just tell me where I have to go so we can get this over with."

    "Turn left slightly then come straight. Just follow my voice."

     Taking a breath, I turn left for a few steps then start straight- or what I hope is straight. I think he finally got it through his head that I need more guidance on this.

    "Keep coming straight and try not to turn. You start turning when you walk."

    "Alright, straight, just picture walking straight."

    Next to us, I hear Doug.

    "Lib, watch out, you're gonna run into Mal."

    Libby shrieks and instinctively I swerve away, making a hard left where my footing falters on the edge of, what must be, a hole. I recover, though I'm shaken.

    "I didn't tell you to turn," Xalale calls out.

    "Well you didn't tell me I was close to running into her," I snap back.

    "Don't worry about them, focus on what I tell you."

    Placing a hand on my forehead, I sigh briefly.

    "Okay."

    "Come straight."

    "Straight, okay."

    He guides me straight for a bit and I try to block out everyone and everything else to fully focus on his directions. When I do that, things actually go smooth for awhile, and for a while I mean like twenty seconds before Doug cries out again.

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Freeze!"

    I hear Libby's breath inhale sharply. My own breath hitches when Xalale cries for me to freeze as well.

   "Wait."

   "What are we stopping for?" Libby says uncertainly.

   "Lib, just listen to me," Doug begins passively. "Go right until I tell you to stop."

   "Mallory. You go left."

   With directions given, but the hazard unknown, I'm cautious in my path, so worried about what might be in front of me that I momentarily forget which way is left and go right, ramming into the back of Libby.

    "What are you doing? Left."

    Libby squawks in panic, attempting to stay upward by, instead, falling back on me, causing me to have to balance us out both while avoiding falling sideways into the hazard. We, fortunately, don't fall into whatever was the problem, instead collapsing on our knees. That warrants some laughs from the bystanders.

   "Ugh," Libby groans, clearly not as in the mood for this as she was before. "Me and you ought to lead ourselves all the good those two are doing."

    "You said it," I reply, wiping my face.

    "The blind cannot lead the blind," Doug counters. "You're fine, just brush it off and go where I was telling you."

    "If I have grass stains on my butt, Doug, you are the one I'm blaming."

    "Yeah yeah, let's just do this thing."

    We both go our proper ways this time, not ramming into each other again. I keep walking left until Xalale gives me my next set of directions.

    "You can come straight now."

    I walk straight merely two measly steps before he calls out for me to change directions. Go left a little. I go left, but again, he quickly changes the direction to a hard right then go straight. It's this weird pattern he's got me going and I try to go along without complaining or doubting, but I'm so confused.

    "Where are you taking me? In circles?"

    "Oh, so I'm not the only one feeling like that?" Libby calls out to me. "Doug, what are you doing?"

    "Trust me," Xalale says to me, capturing my attention again. It's a simple command, but a hard one to follow.

    "I swear," Libby complains. "We're probably going to be dead last because we're going in circles."

    "Actually," RJ announces with a slight chuckle. "You guys are the only two actually getting somewhere. I guess telling and listening to directions for teens is hard- who knew. Just keep at it, you're like halfway to the finish line."

    "Really?" Me and Libby say in unison surprise.

    "Oh ye of little faith," Doug says with feigned ruefully.

    With that assurance, I feel a little better and more trusting in Xalale's ability to lead and I question his directions no more, simply following. Surprisingly, when I actually quit doubting and fighting his directions, I go much faster getting closer to the final stretch. Unfortunately, Libby is on my heels, trusting her partner more as well.

    "This looks like it might actually be a tight race." RJ declares impressed.

    We're getting down to the final stretch, I can sense it.

    "Go left then right then left again." I hear Doug instruct Libby.

    I continue listening for Xalale's instructions.

    "Keep going straight towards me for about four steps then turn right."

    "Got it."

    We're so close to the finish line, the anticipation growing all around us. We're in the home-stretch and Libby and Doug have picked back up on their competitiveness.

    "You guys were good, but I think we might just beat you, just by a smidge." Libby sings.

    "Keep dreaming," I throw back.

    "You're in the final stretch, Lib. Just run it from here!" Doug says excitedly.

    "Wait! Xalale, am I good to go too?"

    "Yes."

    With that, me and Libby are doing the final sprint towards the finish. The two of us blindly racing toward the end, so close we're nudging each other out the way. Then, we trip over the plastic of something. The two of us falling in, with a shriek, to the icy waters which surprises us even more. We're blindly splashing around in the icy pool like it's a foot, shrieking and squealing trying to climb out of the pool. Finally, we yank off our bandanas and calm down looking at what we fell it. It was an inflatable kiddie pool no deeper than three inches. We look at each other in surprise then sheepishly.

   Our fuss certainly stirred up the laughter from the bystanders and RJ. Looking back, we see Doug laughing himself a new one over this and even Xalale seemed amused by our spectacular. That's when I knew we'd been duped and from the fixed look on Libby's face, she knew it too. They had to have known what was ahead of us yet they told us to go running to the finish.

    Standing up, we're soaked from, mostly, the waist down. Me and Libby share a look as RJ starts to speak still laughing.

   "Well, I have to say, that, so far, is my favorite race of the day. Congrats to the two of you."

   We make our way over to our good-for-nothing partners, Doug still having a fit, wiping a tear from his eye.

   "Now we're all winners aren't we?"

   Libby crosses her arms and we share another look before she speaks up with a slight smile on her face (I couldn't help one myself).

   "Well played gentlemen, but I would be watching my back if I were you. The day hasn't ended yet and karma's a you-know-what."

    Doug snorts. "Of course. I'm gonna go avoid karma by the snowballs."

    He strolls off, carefree. Libby shakes her head then parts ways to go home and change. As she passes, she gives me a subtle, in-the-loop wink which I'm not sure what it means but I smile knowing she's up to something.

    "I should probably go back to the trailer and change too," I say, inspecting my wet clothes. When I say this, I can immediately spot some apprehension in Xalale's eyes, but I reassure those worries. "I'll be quick. You won't even know I'm gone. Plus it'll give you the chance to explore on your own. It's not like they're going to stone you while I'm gone." Hopefully not.

   I'm already heading away, leaving him in the park.

   "Go find Clifford or something. Be back."

    Just like that, I hurry back home.