Great love and great daring dominate Clementine’s 25th adventure at The Happy Store.

Once again, it was November 12th. A year since Clementine Fraile had first walked through the doors of The Happy Store, been seduced by the smell of oatmeal cookies, and charmed by a beautiful brisk saleslady with bouncing blond hair.

On impulse, Clementine had blurted, “Are you doing any season hiring?” And two days after that, found herself wearing a red Happy Store apron and telling customers that if they needed assistance, her name was Clementine.

Twelve months later – it was a Thursday – she was still helping customers and still named Clementine. That particular night, she waved at Betty Davis as her co-worker pulled out of the driveway. Then she walked to her old-but-usually-reliable car and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. .

Not a growl. Not a groan. Not even a pathetic purr. She tried five more times. More nothing. So she took out her cell phone and called Emergency Roadside Assistance. A sympathetic operator apologized for the delay, and said that an authorized mechanic would be there in about sixty minutes.

Which is why Clementine Fraile was standing alone outside The Happy Store, and why she saw what she saw. Or saw what she thought she saw. Or, perhaps, imagined the whole thing.