Each fall, to every kid’s delight, the Southeast Texas Fair came to Beaumont, Texas.

At age 10, I was drawn to the animal barn where the smell of sawdust, Nanny goats and the ink spotted pig was strong and sweet and pressed at the doorway like the big bosom of my second grade school teacher.

A toothless man was the keeper of this barn, red headed, freckled faced and as thin as the metal pole he carried.

There was no peace inside these pens. Whenever the keeper walked near, I noticed the animals would move away, like water, tilting in a pan. When they could go no further, a backwash of livestock, crying, spilled in his direction.

One night from atop the Ferris wheel when the animal barn looked like a meat loaf and the windows popped like a row of buttons all ablaze, my friend, Jill, and I sat perched in our seat, plotting.

Jill was my friend who dared to do the most dangerous things. This made her the most fun friend to be around. If Jill was game, I was brave. If she wasn’t, I was a wimp. I didn’t dare…dare without her.

“If we go late,” Jill said, “we could just sneak through the front door."

Her face seemed as lit up from enthusiasm as the lights reflecting from below.

I wasn’t as confident.

“Wouldn’t it be better,” I suggested, “if we crawled through one of the windows and just jumped down in the pen?”

“That’ll make the animals start squealing and then the guy will come runnin’ for SURE!” she answered.

So we stepped inside the animal barn like testing a tub of hot water with one toe. Rusted fans made a dull whistling sound as the animals lay under single strung light bulbs the color of cooked corn. A light rain had begun outside minutes earlier. Mixed with the odors in the barn it reminded me of my uncle’s pasture just after he’d mowed.

With no keeper in sight, Jill moved to one aisle, I to another, carefully cupping the metal part of the first latch to muffle sound. After that, I was less cautious. For every gate I opened, my fear grew and quivered on a wire between the toothless man and thrill of success. It was like I’d jumped in a river and was swimming like hell for the other side only now, as images of the keeper grew greater, there was a snake on my heels.

I’d almost reached the last pen when suddenly, I saw his face, glaring at me from in between boards, and everything on it looking as red as his hair. In an instant, he darted around the pen, rushing forward as though some huge body of water was propelling him from behind.

“WHAT THE HELL YOU GIRLS THINK YOU’RE DOIN?!” he hollered, a metal pole gripped in his hand and pointing towards me.

Jill’s voice sounded from the other side of the barn, from someplace soulful.

"R-U-N!” she screamed.

I turned and ran toward the opening, my eyes feeling as big as burgers. The sound of the keeper’s foot grew closer and heavier. I was so terrified, it felt like my legs were going to detach from the rest of me and run on ahead. Amazingly, we were faster than the man riding the wave and Jill and I hit the barn door like a one, two punch.

The keeper’s voice boomed from behind us, “YOU GIRLS GIT THE HELL OUTTA HERE AND DON’T YOU NEVER COME BACK!”

We never lost stride. The metal pole clanged against more metal and echoed from the barn like the hammering sound of a blacksmith. We didn’t stop running until we reached the other side of the Fairgrounds. In between jumping for joy (literally), we sucked in air and laughed some more.

Later that night, feeling safe under my covers, I thought about Jill and how glad I was to have a friend who dared to do such deeds. That we’d taken matters into our small hands and changed the world, however briefly.

I thought about the animals. The deep sadness and fear I’d seen on their faces. I remembered that oddly, none had stepped through the opened gates. A profound sadness came over me wondering why.

I thought about the toothless man and wished that something bad would happen to him.

I hoped that someday, those animals would be in a place where they truly belonged.

I’d been as scared that day as I’d ever been before but even so, Jill and I had outrun something evil and for a precious few seconds…those animals and two kids were free.