Faery Worlds - Six Complete Novels (77 page)

Jason skipped to the final video in the series. The recorded music entranced him again—not as powerfully as playing the instruments live, but the effect was very strong.

“It looks like we spent a million dollars on special effects,” Jason said, watching the walls crack and the windows shatter behind Dred, while her drums morphed into fairy drums.

“Right?” Mitch said. “And look at the pageviews.”

According to YouTube, the video had been watched over 200,000 times since it was uploaded at 6 AM. Jason glanced back at his Facebook page. Hundreds of people had “liked” the video, and it seemed like half the school had shared it on their pages. Jason had also been tagged in a number of videos uploaded from people’s phones, showing the event from different angles, and those videos were getting a lot of views too.

On top of this, the Assorted Zebras page had six thousand fans, and Jason himself had hundreds of new friend requests.

“This is crazy!” Jason said.

“It was that first video, the one the kid made,” Mitch said. “It's got like ten million views now. Everybody's looking for more stuff from us. A couple bars in Madison already emailed to offer us a gig.”

“Are you serious?”

“But I'm waiting for more offers. I think we can do better.”

“Don't get too cocky...” Jason said.

“I'm not. I'm just sitting back and letting the universe provide.”

“Right. Anyway, I have to get to work. Text me if anything happens.”

“You don't have to sling burgers at Bloody McSlobberbooger's anymore,” Mitch said. “We're gonna be huge, man! This is just the beginning.”

“When we get from the beginning to the part where we're getting paid, then I'll quit McSlobberbooger's. Until then...” Jason shoved the uniform and ridiculous hat into his backpack. “It's slawburgers, hold the slaw, a thousand times a day.”

“I don't think you're seeing the big picture here.”

“I don't think you're seeing the small one. What's happening with your house? Are they going to fix it?”

“Claims adjuster was here yesterday—that's the person the insurance sends to investigate, I guess. He seemed mostly confused about how we managed to have a tiny earthquake in Chippewa.”

“Are they going to help?”

“We still don't know. He took a bunch of pictures and said he'd be in touch. But I'm still in deep trouble for having that party. So worth it, though. Have you seen the videos yet?”

“I'm looking at them.” Jason clicked on the video for “Remember.” It alternated between Erin singing and Katie wandering alone on the playground, as if Katie was the childhood version of Erin. It was actually a powerfully sad video. “Tadd doesn't suck,” Jason said.

“He might be a nut roll, but he knows what he's doing,” Mitch said. “Of course, the magic music doesn't hurt.”

“Have you told Erin about all this?”

“Yeah, she's all over her Facebook page answering comments about it.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe you should call her, though,” Mitch said.

“I don't think so. I'm off to work. Keep me updated.” Jason hung up.

The Buddy McSlawburger's was packed wall to wall with kids from school. They erupted in cheers when Jason entered, as if they'd all been waiting for him.

“Jason,” Mona said, approaching him with a hard look in her eyes.

“Hey, sorry I'm late. My friend wouldn't get off the phone.”

“You told me there was a CD. I've been searching the internet for two days.”

“Oh. Um...I'm sure we'll get something together soon, okay? I'll have Mitch burn you one.”

“For free?” She embraced him in a tight, uncomfortably long hug. “Thank you, Jason.”

“Sure.” He patted her back. “Long line, huh? I'd better get to work.” He managed to disentangle from her embrace, even though she tried to cling to his arms, then his hands, as he pulled away. He attempted to make his way through the crowd to the EMPLOYEES ONLY door.

“You don't have to do that!” Mona said. “Why don't you sit at this table and sign autographs?”

“You want me to sign autographs?” Jason asked, with a tremendous amount of disbelief.

The crowd applauded.

She led Jason to the first dining booth, telling people “Move aside, move aside.” The crowd tried to crush in around him.

“This is crazy,” Jason said. “All we did was put up a video.”

“A great video!” shouted a girl he didn't recognize.

“I've watched it a hundred times!” somebody else yelled.

“I've watched it a thousand!”

In a daze, Jason sat at the table. People had him autograph napkins, except for a few who'd brought either notebooks or printed images of him.

“Where did you get this?” Jason asked a teen girl who handed him a picture of himself.

“It's a screenshot from you playing 'First Road Out of Here.' I
loooooooove
that song!” she said. “You're the best guitarist ever. I couldn't believe it when Kelsey told me you worked at McSlobberbooger's!”

“Who's Kelsey!”

“I am!” shrieked another girl. “He said my name!”

“So, do you guys go to McDonell?” he asked. He didn't recognize them, but maybe they attended the Catholic high school instead of the public one.

“Yeah, but I'll transfer to Chi-High if you want me to!” the girl called Kelsey said.

“Uh, that's okay,” Jason said. “Thanks, though.”

Jason spent most of his shift signing autographs and talking to fans, some of whom had come from the town of Eau Claire just to see him. He was in a daze. He knew the music was good, and it was literally magical, but this was too much. It scared him. The first video, the one taken by Mitch's kid neighbor, had only been circulating for a week or so. The music wasn't just entrancing, it was addictive, and everybody who heard it seemed to lose their minds a little.

Mitch was absolutely right, he realized. This was only the beginning of what promised to be a very wild ride.

Over the next couple of days, he continued going to work, but Mona treated him like a celebrity. So did the kids who came from increasingly far away—Sheboygan, Oshkosh, even college students driving up from Madison. All of them asked when they were doing a concert or where to buy their music. Lots of them took pictures of themselves with Jason. One group showed up with full-print posters of the band, which a girl who worked in a copy shop had made. Jason signed it next to his own face.

Mitch called periodically with updates. They were getting bigger and bigger offers for larger and larger venues. Apparently, even nightclub and theater owners weren't immune to the power of the Assorted Zebras.

On Thursday, when Jason was again at work and not working, Mitch called again.

“Forget all those little clubs. We've been invited to play at the Spoon and Cherry Festival on Saturday night,” Mitch said. His voice was awed.

“Are you serious?” Jason whispered. The festival showcased eight independent bands from around the region, at the Statue Garden in Minneapolis. “That's like ten thousand people!”

“They had an opening, so the coordinator dropped us in,” Mitch said. “Apparently a bunch of people had emailed her our video—”

“But how is that possible? Auditions for that were four months ago.”

“Well, she may have bumped some local Minneapolis band to make room for us. But anyway, not bad for a first gig!”

“Saturday night? Do we have time to get ready?”

“We don't
need
to get ready. We just need to get up on that stage and play. The instruments will do it all for us. I'll announce it on our Facebook page. And our YouTube profile.”

“I'll announce it, too.” Jason stood up and looked over the crowd. “Hey, everybody: Assorted Zebras are playing the Spoon and Cherry Festival this Saturday! Tell your friends!”

The entire place burst into cheers.

“I think they'll come,” Jason said into the phone.

“They can't, it's already sold out,” Mitch said. “We just want everyone to know we played the festival, so we'll get more shows out of this. Gotta go, I have to call Dred and Erin!” Mitch hung up.

Jason's heart dropped a little at Erin's name. They hadn't spoken since she rejected him. This was going to be awkward.

A balding fiftyish man in a tie elbowed his way into the restaurant. Mr. Humphley, the franchise owner. Jason stood up automatically when he entered.

“What in the blue heck is going on here?” Mr. Humphley demanded. “Where is Mona?”

“I'm right here!” She waved from the cash register.

“Where's your cashier?”

“I'm over here, sir,” Jason said.

“What are you doing sitting at a table, kid?”

“Signing autographs, sir.”

“Autographs?” Mr. Humphley glared around at the teenagers packing the restaurant.

“Isn't it great?” Mona asked. “He draws a huge crowd every night. He's the guitarist for the hottest band on Earth!”

“I don't care if he's Elvis Aaron Presley! If he's on my payroll, he works. He doesn't sit around on his fanny!” Mr. Humphley approached Jason, glaring. “Got that, kid? Back to work!”

“Most of these customers just came to see me,” Jason said, and twenty teenagers shouted their agreement.

“This is a family restaurant!” Mr. Humphley said. “It's not a disco for teenyboppers!”

“What's a disco for teenyboppers?” Jason asked.

“Get back to work or get out of here!”

“Fine.” Jason grabbed the slawburger hat from his table and threw it into the crowd, who screamed and tore it to shreds. “I'm so sick of saying 'hold the slaw.' Nobody likes the slaw. It tastes like shredded garbage. Why don't you just take the slaw off the menu?”

“You're fired!” Mr. Humphley barked. “Don't show your face in here again!”

Jason pulled off the red Buddy McSlawburger's apron, tossed it on the floor, and walked away through the cheering crowd, most of whom turned to follow him out.

“Isn't he amazing?” Mona sighed at the counter.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jason left work on his bicycle, waving off the countless people who offered to give him rides. He was in no hurry to get home. A number of cars followed him until he turned away from the road, cutting across parking lots, then back yards, and then across a cow pasture and into the woods, to escape the horde of fans following him.

Finally alone in the woods, he rode slowly alongside a small creek. He was worried about how he would act around Erin now, and whether she would hate him or, worse, feel pity for him, like he was some clueless little kid.

On top of that, he had to worry about the goblin that wouldn't leave his room—Jason was constantly picking up after Grizlemor, who was a confirmed slob. And the goblin was a reminder that somewhere, there were fairies that would be very angry when they found Jason. He couldn't believe that the little people with the butterfly wings were really so dangerous, but Grizlemor seemed terrified of them.

He emerged from the woods a few streets from his house, free of his fans now. He stopped in his driveway and took out his phone.

“Yeah?” Mitch answered.

“I have to tell my parents about the concert,” Jason said. “They won't want me to go.”

“Why not? It's a major festival.”

“I'm not even supposed to be in the band!”

“You can change their minds,” Mitch said.

“How?”

“The music, man! Once they hear the music, they'll see how good it is, and then they'll let you go.”

“Don't bet on it,” Jason said.

“Just let the music convince them. You know it will.”

Jason thought about it. “I don't really feel comfortable using fairy magic on my parents.”

“Why not? You're using it on everyone else.”

“But not to trick them...”

“Tricking them into coming to our shows. Giving us their money.”

“Yeah, but that's different.” Jason rubbed his head, staring at his front door. Inside, the lights were still on, even Katie's. Everyone was still awake. “They pay to hear good music, and they hear good music. Right?”

“Right. And when your parents hear it, they'll let you do whatever you want. ‘Cause it's that good.”

Jason thought of the hordes of fans who kept showing up at work. He couldn't imagine his parents acting that way.

“Erin did it,” Mitch said.

“She did?”

“Even worked on her jerk of a stepdad, and you know how he is. You've got the magic, so use it. I don't want you backing out of the show over this.”

“I won't,” Jason said.

“Then do what you have to.” Mitch hung up.

Jason sighed, parked his bike in the garage, and walked into the living room.

“Home a little early, aren't you, son?” his dad asked. He was in his recliner reading a Sports Illustrated, while Jason's mom watched
Crazy for Ceramics!
on the Home and Garden channel.

“I got fired,” Jason said, sitting down on the couch.

“What?” Jason's dad dropped the
Sports Illustrated
. “How did that happen?”

“Did you mouth off to somebody?” his mom asked.

“It's hard to explain,” Jason said.

“Were you late?” his dad asked. “Or did you goof up your work?”

“It's not that. We made this music video—”

“When you were supposed to be working?” Jason's mother gasped.

“Goofing off while on the clock.” His dad shook his head, looking disappointed. “What did I tell you about all that music nonsense?”

“No, we didn't make the video at work,” Jason said. “We made it a while ago. But Mitch put it on YouTube, and it's really popular now.”

“Videos of yourself? Why in the world would you want to do that?” his mother asked. “Don't you know the internet is forever?”

“Um...so anyway, Mitch made this video...well, actually Tadd made the video...no, this girl from Mitch's neighborhood actually made the
first
video—”

“That doesn't matter,” his dad said. “We want to know why you got fired.”

“That's why I'm telling you about the video.”

“Oh, goodness!” his mom said. “It's not...
inappropriate
, is it? You don't use swear words or anything?”

“No, we just play music. But it's really popular. It's been watched by a million people or more.”