Jerry's Vegan Women. Ben Shaberman

a good option.”

      “Sure,” Jerry said, glancing out at the darkening sky. A storm was approaching from the west.

      The two sat in the car for several more minutes, incredulous that the police left them in the sweltering heat. Finally, the officer came back, turned on the car and the AC, and told them they’d be heading to the station in a few minutes. Someone had had an apparent heart attack, and that was the cause of the delay. “Once the ambulance is en route, I’ll be back and we’ll be on our way,” he said. “Sorry, folks.”

      Jerry and Suzy sat quietly watching the line of ominous clouds and occasional flashes of lightening move closer. The fair’s pedestrian traffic had reversed direction because of the deteriorating weather; now most people were leaving instead of arriving.

      Despite the prospect of going to jail, even if only for a couple of hours, Jerry was intrigued by the novelty and excitement of being in the back of a police cruiser in the company of a cute, edgy vegan organizer. It sure beat his weekday life of wearing a suit and tie, selling modems, multiplexers, and other Com-One computer networking products to other guys in suits and ties. For being his first job out of college, it wasn’t bad money, it got him out of ho-hum Cleveland and into the thriving metropolis of Washington, DC, and the corporate life boosted his ego; it felt good to have some disposable income, go to the beach on vacation, and take women on dates to nice restaurants. Last year, when he bought his first brand new car, a sporty five-speed Subaru coupe, one of the salesman in his office said, “This car is going to get you laid, buddy.” But after being a sales rep for five years, and not getting much additional sex as a result of the car, Jerry had gotten a little bored with his career.

      As the skies opened up over the fairgrounds, the walking pedestrians became running pedestrians, heading quickly to the parking lot for shelter in their cars. Ground strokes of lightning cracked loudly through the air. A call came over the police radio that a couple of power lines had come down near the ferris wheel.

      “Glad, we’re not out there,” Jerry said, “though now it’s getting a little chilly. I wish we could turn the AC down.”

      “Yeah, I am surprised they left us here in the car for so long, but I guess they have their hands full. A storm. A heart attack. And, of course, us — us, the vegan brawlers,” Suzy said just before a bolt of lightning ripped behind them. “You know, I was wondering. What inspired you to get involved with us? Normally, getting volunteers is like pulling teeth. To get someone to approach us the way you did yesterday — that never happens.”

      “Well, it’s kind of a long story. You’re really not going to believe it.”

      “After watching Bill Kyle take on a biker, I’ll believe just about anything.”

      “Well, I came here yesterday with my neighbor and her kids, and we spent a lot of time in the barns. The kids really loved the animals. And me, too. So, we’re petting this black and grey sheep — maybe a lamb — her name was Wilma, and she’s loving the attention. She was like somebody’s dog. So affectionate. And she was just shorn, so you could feel her warm skin. Really, a beautiful animal.”

      “Sounds like you got attached.”