The gypsy wagon wasn't very big on the inside, but it wasn't quite cramped. There was a little table to hold the lamp, with an old inkwell and pen on the back corner. A little stool sat just underneath it, and there was just enough room to pull it out and sit comfortably. In the back there was a small bunk, neatly made with a colorful quilt and fluffy red pillow. Unlike the ticket booth, the inside of the wagon wasn't very dusty at all.

My fairy guide floated up to a little shelf opposite the desk and just watched me while I looked around. She seemed perfectly comfortable. I wondered how big it felt to her. Had she cleaned the wagon to keep it from collecting dust like the booth? 

That last question made my mind go blank. There'd been too many new things all at once after a long day and a stressful evening. I just needed to sleep. I needed to recover and start over tomorrow.

As though she could tell I was helpless in my own mind, the fairy floated down and nudged my shoulder in the direction of the tiny bunk. I stumbled a little from the two steps it took to get there. The moment I sat down, I was reminded how overwhelmingly tired I was. It only took a few moments to curl up in the blankets and fall asleep.

My dreams that night were chaotic, dark, and loud. Not loud like screaming, loud like a concert that makes your eardrums kind of reset to be able to handle the noise. There were flashes of colors and sometimes light, and for a couple of long, horrible seconds everything went silent. Then it was loud again, just like before.

None of it made any sense once I woke up.

There was sunlight creeping in through a window I hadn't seen the night before. Dreams aside, I had rested really well in the little twin-size bunk, so I wasn't too upset about being awake. Getting up would be a lot harder though, since I was comfortably warm under the quilt. I barely remembered getting under the covers before I fell asleep.

A lazy inspection revealed a wool blanket between the top sheet and the quilt. That would explain why I was so cozy despite the cool air on my face.

Then I remembered that I needed to get to school.

I hurried to get my shoes back on and ran back to the pavilion. My fairy guide was nowhere to be seen, so I presumed I was free to go. As much as I wanted to explore the carnival, I didn't know if I had time. 

I ran back to the pavilion quickly, and from there to my house.

The door was unlocked. When I slipped in nobody was awake, so I tiptoed back to my room and changed into fresh clothes for the day. With a little more luck, nobody would say anything about my being outside all night.

Once I was dressed and morning chores were out of the way, I made pancakes.

My parents didn't say anything about the locked door, and my siblings knew better than to bring it up if they were within hearing distance. Maybe it's because I made pancakes. Maybe they just forgot that they'd left me outside. Either way, I was glad to be spared the usual lecture that came with getting locked out to justify it as a reasonable punishment.

I had to get back to the carnival. But how? I hadn't seen it at all until the night before.

Maybe the carnival could only be entered at night. Maybe it was a fluke. Would I get to see the fairy again if I was able to make it back? Would the lights still light up during the day? Were there other people or beings in the carnival? I needed know. No, I corrected myself, I wanted to know. I wanted to know really really badly.

All day at school I wondered. As I wondered I stuffed down a growing fear that I'd given up my one chance to explore the magical carnival with the little fairy that I'd met. Even if I made it back to the carnival, would my little guide still be there? What had she been going to show me before she realized I was tired?

When I finally got to the pavilion I admit I was hoping to see the carnival. I had to swallow my disappointment when all I could see was my house not too far away.

That's when the idea formed.

I could sneak out.

Under any other circumstance, I wouldn't have entertained the thought for a heartbeat. However a magical carnival with travelling lights and a musical fairy were far from ordinary circumstances.

My latest book was still enjoyable, but part of me was still wondering about the carnival. I couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to curl up in the bed in the gypsy wagon to read on a rainy day.

Should I sneak out? Did I dare? If I got caught there was no telling what my consequences would be. But then, given they had locked me out the night before, surely they wouldn't care too much if I had a reasonable excuse? I could say I'd heard a commotion in the henhouse, since we'd had a problem with eggs going missing and the culprit was most likely raccoons that would be reasonable enough. I'd probably only get in trouble for not getting one of my parents up to investigate with me and a few awkward questions about why I couldn't sleep.

The more I thought about it the more tempting it was. 

By the time I was heading to the house I'd decided. I was sneaking out. It wouldn't be too hard to determine if the carnival was back, since the pavilion had been within sight of the back porch the night before. It was probably safe to assume that nobody else would notice it since they hadn't seen me coming from it after school every day.

Fortunately it was a much less eventful night than the previous evening. Dinner went smoothly, since it seemed my parents were still giving each other the silent treatment. Everyone had finished their homework by the time they needed to go to bed too, so nobody's feathers were ruffled about bedtime being violated.

I waited until I was as sure as I could be that everyone else was asleep, and slipped out of bed.

For once I was grateful we weren't allowed to have our doors closed at night, because I didn't have to worry about opening or closing them on my way out. I just grabbed a sweater out of the laundry bin and went to the back door.

Heart pounding from anticipation and fear of being caught, I looked out the window in the back door.

A smile crept out when I saw the pavilion in the distance.

Holding my breath, I unlocked the door and turned the knob. I lifted hard as I opened it to keep the door from squeaking too much, closed it quietly behind me, and sighed when it latched shut without any sign of life from the rest of the house.

The cold air had me sniffling by the time I made it to the pavilion, but I didn't want to risk going back for another layer. Besides if the carnival was there I could stop to warm up in the gypsy wagon.

It was there.

I couldn't quite see it, but I could see the mildly sketchy ticket booth.

And I heard music, like little crystal bells.