She wandered between the potbellies and the beer guts, the sharp-cornered purses and the waist-length hair that tickled her nose. She could smell the body odor of the teenagers, ripe and fertile. Popcorn in cardboard buckets passed under her nose, the butter shiny like gold.
She wasn't afraid. There was nothing to be afraid of. They were people. People everywhere. It wasn't like being lost in the woods, in an ocean, in a cave. Those places where she would be alone, those were scary places. Here she wasn't alone.
The carousel echoed its off-key melody and bounced off the carny booths. The change in her pocket jingled and she reached in, held the two quarters, the one nickle, and the six pennies in her fist. The money made her feel brave.
Someone bumped into her and she dropped one of the pennies. It was a tall man with a grey, damp t-shirt. He didn't look down or apologize. Next a woman with a baby strapped to her back stepped on her toe. It hurt, that espadrille pressing down on her bare toe.
Maybe a crowded place could be just as scary. Especially without a hand to hold.