Rochelle lived on the other side of town, a petite woman with honey-colored hair that bounced down her back. She was a looker to middle-aged men, although she herself hardly graced thirty. It was the way she dressed, I think, that captured such older males- a long, flowing sundress that was both modest and tasteful, a peach cardigan draped around her shoulders. She had an air about her that was saturated with the innocence of a schoolgirl, which perhaps was the reason why she became a second grade teacher. My second grade teacher, in fact. When you spoke to her, she'd whip her hair around her face like an Herbal Essences commercial, soft green eyes and colorless lips donating every millimeter of attention she owned. All of Avon both knew and loved Miss Rochelle, who strongly insisted on being addressed as such in school. Her last name became a mystery among students for years. My friend Sam and I figured it was something weird, something scary. Or maybe it was something like "Candyman," where if you said it three times in a mirror the Candyman would jump out and kill you. We lost interest after this possible discovery. Through high school I continued to see Rochelle regularly at the Farmington Public Library, where she worked on weekends. Outside of class, she was the epitome of the Disney rendition of Belle in "Beauty and the Beast"- always with her nose in a book. I'd ask her for advice on what to read next, what novels just came in. We were both nerds from Stephen King to Thoreau- always looking for the next nonexistent adventure. But at least we were willing to admit it. And at least we weren't alone. Our story begins six years later on the top of a hill in Avon, Connecticut in the United States, The World, The Universe. Each year in the summer a big carnival came to town and held their festivities on this hill...the whole shabang: candy apples and ferris wheels and those things where you throw the ball at a stack of milk bottles. A big sound system that blasted Top 40 all day. High school kids that made out in the corners. But when it wasn't JULY 1-15 ONLY!!! TICKETS $10!!!, Sam and I sat on the hill and watched the clouds go by. It wasn't because there was nothing better to do. It was because...I don't know. Because it was there. And it was ours.