The carnival was in town again. Not the cool carnival. The creepy carnival with the faded canvas tents that had seen a hundred summers in a thousand different little towns from Vancouver to Wichita to that weird little town in Maine. They had a mascot, a weathered mermaid they claimed was the albatross of a pirate ship some two hundred years ago. They claimed their tents were the old sails of that ship. They claimed the bearded ringmaster was the greatest grandson of that pirate captain, who gave his sails for tents and the wood of his ship for poles.