Into the Wildewood (8 page)

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Authors: Gillian Summers

BOOK: Into the Wildewood
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Elia did her dumb blonde routine and held out her dainty hand for Prince John’s kiss. The kiss made her twitch. Keelie smiled inwardly. Elia had human cooties. She thought of Elia tongue-kissing Tarl. Eww! Maybe being a dragon wasn’t so bad.

Prince John released her hand and gestured to someone behind him. “And let me introduce my lovely ward, Maid Marian.” A young woman in a green cloak walked past Elia, sneering identically. Darn, an elf girl was playing Maid Marian. She waved to the crowd. There was something weird about her, but maybe it was just part of seeing the world through Plumpkin’s eye-screens. Maid Marian’s face seemed blurry.

Robin Hood shouted up to Prince John. “You’re not the true ruler of England. Good King Richard will return and claim his crown.”

“Robin, my love,” Marian shouted down to him.

Oh brother. Who wrote this stuff?

Robin held his hand out toward Marian. “Dear heart, take courage.”

“Oh, how sappy!” Ugly looks turned to her. Oops. She’d spoken out loud. Nevertheless, Keelie had to admit she would melt under Robin’s loving gaze, which she should feel guilty for thinking because of her relationship with Sean. Even though he hadn’t called her since they left Colorado.

Prince John stepped forward. “Enough. Marian is under my protection.”

Damn! Tarl was really good as Prince John. Keelie was impressed with his acting skills. Marian dropped her cloak, revealing a scarlet gown. Nearby, the similarly dressed Will Scarlet nodded approvingly. Maybe Marian and Will shopped at the same booth, Hose to Toes. Speaking of toes, she couldn’t wait to get rid of whatever it was wadded up at the end of her foot. It was making her own toes itch. One of those really nail-digging scratches would relieve the irritation. She just had to get over the itching, and the throbbing pain in her knee, and move through this day.

Maybe paying attention to the show would help. Maid Marian had broken free of Prince John’s knights, and threw herself into Robin Hood’s arms. Keelie watched enviously, imagining herself in the beautiful elf girl’s place.

Prince John leaned down and shouted to Robin Hood. “At this day’s end, I shall give my bride your head as a wedding gift.”

Robin Hood, arms protectively around Marian, shouted, “Nay, rather, you shall surrender the crown to Richard.”

“Then at the hour of ten and thirty, we shall decide the fate of England on the jousting field. What say you?”

“I agree.” Robin Hood held his sword high in the air and the crowd cheered, “Huzzah.”

Finally, Prince John told the crowd to enjoy the Faire and their day in Sherwood Forest. The gates swung open majestically.

Yeah, yeah. Big fun coming up. Keelie resisted scratching herself as the crowd surged toward the gates. You’d think there was a prize for being the first one into the Faire. She motioned with a purple claw and waved people toward the gates. Most of the kids stuck their tongues out at her as they passed, or they shouted “You stink!” She had an overwhelming desire to kick some of them.

All the Faire workers were lining up. Ah, the stupid parade!

Keelie had no idea where she was supposed to go. Finch had said only “show up at the gates.”

In the line, she walked behind the Ladies of Laundry, a comedy group that presented dirty humor at the Mudville Stage. They turned around and pinched their noses with their fingers and one said in a faux English accent, “Look, Molly, it be a dragon that needs washin’.”

The other girl shook her head. “Not enough money in the kingdom for me to wash this wretched beastie.”

A blocky guy built like a troll stepped in front of her. He had strawberry blonde hair and peach fuzz on his cheeks. He carried a large quarterstaff, and burped. “’Scuse me. We did a bit of merrymaking last night, and me stomach needs a bit of mead to cure what’s ailing it.” He patted his overhanging belly, its bulge fortunately covered up by his brown tunic.

Keelie stepped back because she didn’t want to be downwind of the burp, but recognized this guy’s deep baritone voice from the singing she’d endured while camping in the Swiss Miss Chalet. From the looks of the baby-faced giant, this had to be Robin Hood’s sidekick, Little John.

He glanced at her, then did a double take. His eyes narrowed.

The fanfare began, and the parade started to move. She followed Little John. Inside the gates, all of the Merry Men had assembled in the courtyard along with their leader, Robin Hood. Prince John and his knights were on the other side of the clearing, giving them the evil eyeball as a crowd congregated to watch the show.

Maid Marian had gathered an admiring crowd, including seven little girls in princess dresses. She whispered to them, and they giggled. Maid Marian pointed in the direction of Keelie, who waved to them.

None of the princesses waved back. Instead, they picked up sticks. Before Keelie could react and run, Maid Marian and the little princesses rushed toward Plumpkin.

The princess ninjas attacked Keelie. They pounded her over and over, hitting her on the back, the legs, the arms. She swung her foot at one, intentionally missing. The kid squealed with mock fear and hit her in the knee. The point of her little light-up wand dug through the Plumpkin suit. Keelie was ready to take out a princess for real when she saw Robin Hood and Little John heading toward her and the mob of little hellions. Reinforcements. She was saved.

Little John arrived first, and, yelling like some sick animal, walloped Keelie on the butt with his quarterstaff. “Take that, you verminous scalawag.”

“Ow! That really hurt.”

The reinforcements had arrived, all right. For the wrong side.

seven

Keelie tried to rub her sore backside with her purple mittened hands while also trying to fend off her attackers.

In scarlet tights and satin cape, prissy Will Scarlet yelled, “Little John, stay away from the dragon. I will kill it for you.”

One of the little princesses piped up. “That dragon stinks.”

Robin Hood shouted, “Stop!”

Little John grabbed Keelie’s dragon head and pulled. She kicked him in the kneecap. She was aiming for his privates, but her leg wasn’t long enough. Will Scarlet stomped on her foot. She’d had it.

She screamed at him, and as she stepped back, Little John gave a really hard tug. The head came off. Keelie inhaled fresh air for the first time that morning.

Little John raised Plumpkin’s head in the air and gave a victory shout as if he was on the Renaissance Wrestling Channel or something.

Loud shrieks and screams pierced the Faire gates area as the little girls ran toward their parents. Little John turned around and looked at Keelie in shock, as if she’d roasted the little princesses. Then he dropped Plumpkin’s head onto the ground. Obviously, the line between what was pretend at the Faire, and what wasn’t, had blurred for Little John. Keelie wasn’t going to wait around for him to figure it out. She ran.

Ms. Finch was on the telephone, having a not-very-pleasant conversation with someone, while Keelie stewed and looked at the photos on the wall. They were pictures of the employees of the Wildewood Faire, as well as some of the acts. Her father and Janice were in one. Dad was holding a turkey leg. She tried not to eavesdrop on Finch’s conversation, but it was hard not to.

“Well, you’re welcome to come here, we have nothing to hide. But just don’t bring testing equipment that’ll scare the visitors. Can you come on a weekday?”

Finch arched an eyebrow and grabbed a notepad and a pencil. “Okay, I’ll be on the lookout for Dawn Valentine of the City Council. Sure, bring the EPA. I understand. Yes, this Wednesday.” She nodded again, and her eyes seemed to bug out at whatever the person said on the other end of the phone. “Thank you. I’ll be looking forward to your visit.” She slammed the phone down. The pencils in her pencil case jumped.

Keelie stepped back.

“What kind of name is Dawn Valentine?” Finch asked, her neck as bright red as her face.

“Ah. Not sure.”

“I’ll tell you. It sounds like a damn stripper, not a councilwoman. Like I don’t have enough to do. Now I need to accommodate this Ms. Valentine and her staff, or our non-cooperation will be noted, thank you very much, and in the future the effing permits needed to run the Faire might not be granted. Does that not sound like a veiled threat to you?”

“Yes, it sort of does.”

“Why am I telling you this? And where’s your Plumpkin head?”

“I lost it.” Keelie tried to sound unafraid. “Little John ripped it off.”

“What?”

“Lost it to Little John.”

Finch gritted her teeth and smacked her hand loudly on the desk. “Why did you let him take it?”

“He hit me with a quarterstaff and took it. I think he’s got issues with reality.” Keelie wanted to scratch.

“I know, but he brings such a sense of realism to his performance.” She picked up her walkie-talkie. “Okay, let me get security.”

There was some static, then a man’s voice. “Jackson, here.”

“Hey, Plumpkin is missing her head. I need it.”

Please let it be gone. Please let it be gone. Please let it be gone.

“We got it here. It’s at First Aid,” Jackson replied.

“Good. Bring it here to the office.”

Finch placed the walkie-talkie back onto her desk. “You’re going to need to be at Lulu’s puppet shop at eleven thirty. You’re supposed to help her attract little kids into the shop.”

Keelie groaned. “Is it really necessary for the kids to hit me with sticks?”

Finch furrowed her forehead. “Kids are hitting you with sticks? Funny. Usually the kids love Plumpkin. No one has ever hit Plumpkin. Must be something new. The smell?”

“What should I do when kids start attacking me?”

“Do?” Finch’s voice rose even louder. “Do? Do whatever you have to do to bring a smile to their faces. Don’t scare them, entertain them.”

There was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

In walked a stocky, bearded guy with a yellow shirt with “Wildewood Security” written across the chest. He shoved the dusty Plumpkin head at Keelie. It spun its eyes at her. She wanted to hit it. Maybe the kids were on to something.

Her “thank you” sounded insincere.

The security guy smirked. “Anything else, boss?”

“No, just keep an eye on Little John. Seems he’s really back in Merry Olde England.”

Keelie stood there holding her Plumpkin head and staring at the googly eyes. Whoever designed this costume had mental issues, or a sadistic streak.

Finch had turned her attention to her paperwork. She looked up at Keelie. “You still here? Get your ass out there and entertain the kids at Lulu’s. It’s already ten forty-five.” People skills were not Finch’s strong suit.

Keelie ran, but still was late getting to Lulu’s. The Enchanted Lane was bustling. Every time and everywhere an actor engaged an audience, it became clogged with mundanes. The Heartwood shop was full. Keelie stopped, wondering if she should show Zeke the costume. She imagined him tearfully removing her Plumpkin head and telling her he was so wrong, and that she could have the money for the boots. Hardly. He would likely say, “You’ve got to learn responsibility, now get to the puppet shop.”

A young woman with a stroller called to her. “Plumpkin, I want to get a picture of you and my baby.” Sitting in the stroller was a ten-month-old with a nose that dripped green goo. The baby slurped a sippy cup, then threw it down and reached out for Keelie. Okay, she liked the kid. It wasn’t screaming its head off, and in a weird way that made her feel better, after a morning filled with rejection.

Knot chose that moment to come sauntering out of the Heartwood shop. He stepped in front of Keelie and sat at the foot of the stroller, then turned his green eyes toward the kid and blinked. The baby began bouncing up and down in its seat, opening and closing its grubby little hands and saying, “Kitty, kitty, kitty.”

Knot turned his huge orange head to Keelie. She could’ve sworn he was grinning. Then, the small white cat from the other day scampered out from the oak trees. It sat down on the edge of the lane and watched. It had bright blue eyes, but its fur was patchy and it seemed extra skinny.

A family with two little ones stopped and admired Knot as if they’d never seen a cat. The little boy reached out to Knot, who was strolling toward Keelie with his tail high in the air. This usually meant “kiss my butt.” Knot sat down on Plumpkin’s paw, his warm weight spreading to Keelie’s toes. She couldn’t see her feet with the Plumpkin head on.

The baby’s mom reached down, pulled her squirming kid out of the stroller, and walked over to Keelie.

Zeke stepped out of the booth, looking down angrily at Knot. “That’s better. You stay with her, and don’t let her out of your sight.” So much for sympathy from Dad.

Knot’s tail twitched, then he purred even louder. Not a good sign. It meant he was going to do something knotty.

Zeke bowed graciously to the surprised mundanes. He swept his hand in the direction of Plumpkin. “This enchanted cat has been ordered to guard the dragon and keep it safe.”

Everyone clapped. Knot yawned. Keelie placed her puffy claws up to her mouth and shook her head.

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