Into the Wildewood (5 page)

It didn’t work.

“I hope you’re joking.” His voice rose to “you’re grounded” volume.

She couldn’t believe Dad was picking a fight. She was the one who’d lived in close quarters with him and his cat, without a refrigerator and without a bathroom for the past three weeks. She’d pointed out every piercing and tattoo parlor in eight states and Dad had driven past every single shop, eyes looking straight ahead, never once glancing at where she was pointing. She’d
earned
those boots. “I
have
ordered them, and Lady Annie has already cut the leather.” Well, she didn’t know if Lady Annie had actually started, but she might have. Too late now.

“Really.” Dad’s face had paled, but Keelie noticed his neck was beginning to turn green. This was not normal.

“Are you okay, Dad?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Fine. It’s my favorite subject right now. I have money in the bank, so what’s the big deal? They’re going to be really great, with leaves and acorns. They’ll go with the shop.” Although she might need to rethink the acorns after this last incident.

“Keelie, that’s your college money. If you want the boots, you have to work for them.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re going to work for those boots.”

Keelie’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “It’s my money. I can do as I please. I’ll call Ms. Talbot, and she’ll tell you that I can spend my money as I see fit.”

Dad shrugged. “Call her. She’ll tell you that you can’t touch the money until you’re eighteen.”

Knot abandoned his wild game of acorn hockey and sat down in front of Keelie to wash his butt.

“Fine. I will call. Mom would’ve let me have them.” The tears were back.

Dad grabbed the crowbar and pried the lid off a nearby crate with more force than was necessary. The lid went flying and bounced off a post, splintering on the floor. “You’re living with me now. Ms. Finch, the Faire coordinator, has an office in the administrative building. She’s in charge of hiring.”

Fresh tears made Keelie dab at her eyes, and she blew her nose with the tear-dampened tissue. “You’re kidding, right? You want me to get a job?”

“Ms. Finch. Go. Now.” Dad’s face had gone stern.

“Yeah, right, Zeke. It’ll take me a hundred years to pay it off working just on weekends.” Keelie scowled at him. She’d just downgraded him to a first name basis. Forget calling him Dad until he acted like one.

“You need to learn the value of working for something. I think you’ve had too many things just given to you.”

“How dare you? Mom loved me. She took care of me.” Keelie spun on her heel and started to march away.

Her right foot slipped on Knot’s acorn, and she hit the ground hard on her backside, her teeth clacking together painfully. Winded and jarred, Keelie concentrated on inhaling and exhaling as her tailbone spasmed with pain.

Dad dropped the crowbar and ran to her. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” She groaned, too rattled to pull away as he helped her up. From beneath her, the acorn rolled across the floor. The sadistic orange feline sauntered out of the shop, not bothering to look back at the havoc he’d caused. At least he was acting normally.

Keelie limped to the end of the street, studied a map of the Wildewood Faire, and found the Admin building. She knew that calling the attorneys was hopeless. They’d never let her have the money. Dad had called her bluff, and now her leisurely summer plans were a bust.

Soon she stood in front of a white cottage that must have once been part of the logging camp. A sign on the door read “Hiring.” Knot ran past her in a blur and stopped on the porch. Keelie marched up the steps, barely looking at the pots of herbs that lined them.

She glared at the cat. He had some nerve, following her as if he was all concerned. She’d probably be bruised for a week from his stupid acorn.

“You’re never, ever going to sleep with me again.” She realized she’d been shouting when two really hot hunky guys in jeans and polo shirts stopped to stare at her, as did a teenage girl with long brown hair. The girl glared at Keelie with a look Keelie was familiar giving, not receiving—the “you’re such a dork” look. The trio exchanged glances that plainly said, “What a loser!”

Keelie quickly retaliated with a hand on her hip and the bored “who gave you permission to stare at me?” glare. If Laurie were here, she’d startle them with something smart.

The trio got the hint and moved on. Keelie overheard the girl say, “Can you believe I got a job at Francesca?”

Francesca, the coolest shop at the Ren Faire.

Now
that
was a place she could work. She loved their clothes—beautiful interpretations of period clothing. Ubercool for Rennie garb, the La Jolie Rouge of the Ren Faire. The kind of costume that would go with her boots.

Keelie winced as she climbed the porch steps. She needed a guardian to protect her from her supposed guardian. Knot sat at the door as if he were daring her to go inside.

“Get!” She shooed him away with her foot. He purred.

The wooden door suddenly opened, and cool air rushed out. Admin had air conditioning. No fair. The cool air became downright cold as Keelie looked up at a large woman with flaming red hair and flashing green eyes.

“What in the hell are you doing? Were you planning to knock, or just stand there?” The woman looked as if she was having a bad day and was about to take it out on Keelie.

“I’m here to apply for a job,” Keelie managed to squeak.

The woman’s red eyebrows narrowed as her gaze went down Keelie, and then back up again. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Hmm. Do I know you?”

“I’m Keelie Heartwood. My dad’s—”

“Zeke Heartwood.” Her frosty voice warmed up a couple of notches. “You’re one of them. Come on in, the others are inside. I hope Heartwood can do something about those belligerent oaks.”

Keelie followed the woman, who was wearing jeans, too, but paired with a white blouse under a blue tapestry-patterned bodice. Keelie noticed that she had a pair of Lady Annie’s boots. A rising red sun, over a black mountain range, was tooled into the brown leather that clung to the formidable woman’s thick calves. More determined than ever, Keelie knew she’d work for boots. She’d show Zeke she could do it.

The woman walked behind an ordinary metal office desk and plunked down into a swivel chair. There was nothing Renaissancy about it. She motioned toward a ladder-back chair with stuffing poking from its torn seat cushion.

“So you’re Zeke Heartwood’s kid.”

“Yes.”

“I’m Ms. Finch. Why do you want a job at the Faire?”

“I need to earn some money.”

“Why aren’t you working for your dad?”

“Dad has an apprentice. He thought it might be good for me to do something different. He wants me to meet new people, experience new situations.”

She beamed. “I have the perfect job for you. You understand you’ve come a little late. Most jobs have been filled.”

Keelie leaned forward. “I’ve got a great job in mind, too. Do you have any openings at Francesca? I would love to work there.”

“Sorry kid, but those positions have been filled. You just missed the last spot. I gave it to a girl who was here just a few minutes ago. You must have seen her. Mall brat. Abercrombie & Fitch type.”

Keelie wondered if Knot would go and pee on the girl on her first day on the job. Maybe if she bribed him with catnip. Then Keelie could show up and really show the Francesca people what she could do. Maybe she’d even have her boots by then, and she’d really fit in with the Ren Faire designer crowd. An image of her riding bareback on the unicorn flashed through her mind. Again, the urge to go into the woods washed over her. She forced her attention back to Mrs. Finch’s arched red eyebrow.

“Then what do you have in mind for me?”

“You’ve heard of a Jack-of-all-trades?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’re going to be my Jill-of-the-Faire. You’re going to fill in wherever and whenever I need you.”

“What does that mean?” That sounded either fun or awful.

“Here’s the job description: One day you’re filling in at the joust, holding horses because one of the squires has called in sick. Or you’ll be serving up turkey legs because one of the local high school kids has a hangover, or I may need you to fill in at the juggling show because the juggler has dropped a bowling ball on his head. Or you’ll be helping Sir Brine with his pickle cart. I put you where I need you.”

“Pickle cart? No way. Are you sure you don’t have anything else? A permanent job, maybe?”

“I do have an opening for an assistant to the privy cleaner.” Finch leaned forward, eyes locked on Keelie’s.

She shuddered. “Jill-of-the-Faire works.”

Finch sat back. “Good. Your first job is tomorrow, opening day, by the front gates. You’ll need to be there at eight-thirty to greet customers. Pick up your costume at the garb shop this afternoon, and I’ll walk you through your duties.”

“Costume?” She envisioned a beautiful gown. This could be sweet. Whatever it was would be worth it for the boots.

“Plumpkin the Baby Dragon.” Finch waved a hand in the direction of the other side of the house. “It’ll be the purple fuzzy one in the other room. They should’ve gotten the vomit out last year. If not, spray some more Febreze in it, and you’ll be good to go. Better take a bottle with you in case the smell comes back.”

The embarrassment of wearing a fuzzy purple dragon suit was one thing, but entertaining little kids sounded awful. And the Febreze had not killed the smell. Keelie thought maybe now would be a good time for the unicorn to rush over, pierce her heart with its horn, and end her life.

five

That afternoon, Keelie returned to the Admin building. The potted lavender by the porch wafted its soothing scent over her. Janice said lavender was good for stress, but the flower’s purpley spikes reminded her of what was coming: Plumpkin the Baby Dragon.

She crept past the office, not anxious to see Ms. Finch again. At the end of the hallway, a sign read “Costume Shop.” Opening the door, Keelie was greeted with a beehive-swirl of activity. The room was crowded with women. A thin woman with graying brown hair buzzed about with a yellow measuring tape around her neck, a pincushion on her wrist, and a notepad and pencil in her hands. She wove through the others, all of whom were trying on costumes.

Keelie kept to the edge of the room, scooting around a plastic table laden with luxurious bolts of velvet, lace, and silk. Racks overflowed with cloaks, women’s voluminous gowns, and men’s doublets. Another woman was cutting fabric at a long waist-high table, using stiff plastic pattern pieces. No one looked at Keelie, and that was perfect. She wanted to grab the Plumpkin costume and get out of there.

Fabric heralds decorated the walls. These tall vertical banners with tasseled, pointy ends were paraded around on horseback before the jousts. One of them had stylized silver branches against a black background and bore the words “Silver Bough Jousting.” Next to it was a green one with a silver hawk. Sean o’ the Wood’s crest. Keelie sighed and thought of Sean at his Ren Faire. Right now he was probably practicing jousting with the other knights, his chest emblazoned with his silver hawk. She hoped he missed her as much she missed him.

Keelie scanned the room, trying to zero in on the Plumpkin costume. It wasn’t here. She was startled to see a unicorn head in a corner, and then realized it was just a realistic costume piece. The image of the real unicorn formed in her mind; she closed her eyes as a longing to find it inundated her, obliterating the noise and people in the costume room. Maybe Dad was right and the unicorn had enchanted her.

No!
She had to focus on her Jill-of-the-Faire job. She’d ordered the boots, and she was going to show Zeke she could earn the money to pay for them. Maybe after she proved that she was responsible, old Zeke would let her have driving lessons. She’d go check out the little town of Canooga Springs. Maybe she could buy a cell phone there.

Three beautiful elven girls stepped onto padded stools, high above the human women below. Then another girl stepped onto a cushioned ottoman, tossing golden curls over her shoulder. Elia, who considered herself perfect.

Keelie froze. The Perfect Elf Girl sneered and whispered to her companions. The thought of having to even speak to Elia sickened Keelie. She was the one who had cursed Ariel. The hawk’s courage inspired Keelie; she wouldn’t be afraid.

They hadn’t spotted her yet. She just had to snag the Plumpkin costume and get the hell out of there. But then the elven girls all turned to look at her with matching disdain. They stood unembarrassed in their underwear, like swimsuit models ready to pose for a photographer, sure of their perfection. Keelie turned away. She was embarrassed, even if they weren’t. The woman with the tape measure returned, arms full of silks and brocades.

“All right girls, let’s try these on. No pins this time. The seams are all basted. Let me know if you need help.”

“Am I to fasten this costume myself?” Elia’s snooty voice made Keelie grit her teeth.

The costumer’s shoulders slumped. She’d only gotten five feet away, but she returned to lace Elia in, puff out her sleeves, and tug her skirts into place.

The costumes were beautiful. Elia’s was a plum-colored silk skirt with alternating panels of purple and gold brocade, and glistening amethyst-colored beads that decorated the joining of each panel and the edge of the hem. Her bodice was a work of art with three different strips of purple brocade pieced together. It looked like a modified Francesca. Wistfully, Keelie thought about the job at the Francesca shop. Life was so unfair!

Then she noticed that Lady Annie sat on the floor, tracing an outline of one of the girl’s feet. Miss Evil Elfpants and crew were getting custom boots. She tried to keep her jealousy from showing.

Lady Annie looked up and smiled. “Keelie, nice to see you again. I cut your boots this morning. Told you I’d get busy. Are you here to pick up a costume?”

“Yes, I’ve got a job.” Keelie hoped she sounded normal.

“Oh, so the little Round Ear has come to work like the peasant she naturally is.” Elia’s voice carried over those of the elven girls, who shushed her, giggling.