Bill watched Gladys as she and Jerry walked from the barn. Bill had seen llamas at the zoo. Nice, small llamas. He knew they were related to camels, so he wasn’t concerned when he’d volunteered for the pageant. He hadn’t considered what it would be like to ride a camel, to roll with its movements, or how far off the ground they would be. Bill assumed it would be like sitting on a hairy chair that wanted to please him.
He reconsidered this at the first sight of Gladys.
She was not small. At five feet nine inches tall at the shoulders and seven feet at her hump, Bill had to look up to look her in the eyes. Those eyes scared him. When he looked at her, she looked back. Bill recognized with a shock that there was an independent mind under that mountain of hair, and the way she laid her ears back was not a friendly greeting.
Bill looked to George on his right, Charles on his left, and back at Gladys. He edged away from Jerry and Gladys and, imperceptibly, drifted to a place behind George. This turned out to be a complicated maneuver: George was trying to get behind him.
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