It was the yearly annual fair in Avonlea, the warm morning already shaping out to be a perfect day for dancing, eating, and shopping.

The vendors were set up, fully prepared for the excited girls and their mothers, dragging the wallets (Aka Fathers!) behind them. It was a splendid time of year, the air was crisp and warm, the sun beating down in just the right way. There was a soft floating breeze whispering through the hair of all those outdoors, giving it a perfect temperature for summer festivities.

Jerry Baynard would have been excited, if it weren't for his families wealth. They were poor. Poor French-Canadians, barely getting by as a butcher family. Jerry had to work on the Cuthbert farm everyday to help his parents with the money.

As a young boy, he would have been overjoyed to go to the fair, mainly to see all the amazing items and dancing. But now that he was involved in keeping his family afloat, seeing others carelessly spend money on ribbons for hair, bags for the city, or even fancy dog leashes, filled him with rage.

Walking through the fair grounds, he kept his head down, staring at his boots as he walked. Most people went right around him, not bothered in the least by a strangely solemn boy.

BANG.

"I'm so sorry!" A girl's voice fills his ears as he looks up from his new spot. The ground.