"Scott, this is my daughter Keelie."
Scott didn't turn around.
"Scott?"
He turned around, and his face seemed irritated.
"Keelie, this is Scott, my apprentice. I teach him woodworking, and he helps me out. He lives in a room out back."
Keelie didn't smile back either. Not only did Zeke have
time for a stupid cat, he had time to teach this dork woodworking. She followed her father as he went behind the counter. The counter itself was amazing. It was taller than
her waist, and the front edge was carved with imaginary
animals, locked in a race around the countertop. The bottom was carved to look like roots, as if the shop itself was
part of the Earth.
Hand stuck out in anticipation of money, Keelie looked
around the shop. The posts that held up the top floor had
root-carved bottoms, too. Weird. Must be a Heartwood
theme. Her roots were elsewhere, weren't they?
Zeke handed her some bills, then broke open a roll of
quarters and scooped up half of them to drop in Keelie's
palm.
"Hey, we'll need those today to make change." Scott
frowned at them.
"The cat peed on my clothes. I need to do laundry."
Keelie matched his frown.
Scott laughed. "Is that why you're dressed like that?
I thought Tarl had pitched that outfit after Daisy complained last year."
"Scott, why don't you show Keelie where to eat cheap?
I'll her you can show her how to make that ten dollars last
a week."
Keelie was mortified. Oh great, she'd be strolling
around with fiber-dweeb and people would think they
were a couple. Captain Randy, for one. And if Scott saw
Captain Randy and her together, he'd no doubt tell Zeke
all about it.
"I can't go, Zeke. I have to finish this piece for Mr.
Humphrey. He's picking it up on Friday." Scott didn't seem
any happier about it.
Zeke clapped a hand on Scott's back. "Don't worry. I'll
take care of everything. The Faire's just opened, so this is
a good time for Keelie to see the sights before the crowds
get in the way."
Ignoring Keelie's outraged stare, he waved Scott toward
her. "On Sundays things don't get busy until after one in
the afternoon. You can stay out until then."
They set off down the path, each clinging to the opposite side of the path. Scott glanced at her and snorted.
"What?" She couldn't see anything amusing.
"So, now that you have the garb, are you going to join
the Muck and Mire Show?"
The skirt. Keelie hated the hideous Muck and Mire
Show costume more than ever. It was a symbol, and it was
the wrong one. Her Baywood Academy uniform had been
the symbol that informed the world that she was somebody. Only the brightest and best connected got into
Baywood. The blue and black of the Baywood uniform
showed everyone that she was smart and her mother was
important. Here she was a goofy-looking misfit.
"Are you laughing at me?" Keelie stopped in the middle of the path, hands on her hips. Scott's eyes widened,
and he tried to stop, but laughter just bubbled out of him,
the vermin.
"Don't you want me to?" He wiped his eyes. "You're
dressed in that outrageous outfit. Like a clown." He hiccupped.
"Look at you. You've been here far longer than me, and
you're wearing something that belongs to a giant. At least
you have a choice."
She didn't have a choice in anything. Where to live,
what to wear. Who to walk down the stupid path with. His
laughter was suddenly too much.
She turned and ran. Racing down the hill, she veered
right, speeding past a colorful barge tied at the lakeshore,
full of fancy-costumed people. She ran past tradesmen setting up shop and artists opening their studios.
She heard Scott follow her for a while, but then she
couldn't hear him anymore. Not that she'd turned to look.
He'd never catch her looking to see if he was there. She
wanted to be alone, to get away. From Scott. From her
father. From this whole freakish wonderland.
The air felt good on her face, and her muscles stretched
and sang as she lengthened her stride. She loved to run, and
the proof, her cross-country racing ribbons, were in the
missing suitcase. People looked up as she passed, but no one
tried to stop her. She hadn't run for weeks. It felt great.
After a long time, she circled back to the Heartwood
clearing. From the path's edge she watched her father and
Scott unload lumber. Back to business. No one was concerned about her. She wondered what Scott had told her
father about his early return. She could bet that it wasn't
the truth.
Her stomach growled. She could use a muffin and a
tall latte. She pulled the map of the Ren Faire site from the
pouch slung around her waist and examined it. She was
tempted to cut through the woods, but she'd been warned
to stay on the path.
She started down Water Sprite Lane, hurrying over
the bridge she'd passed last night. No voices today. The meadow was full of trees, just as Raven had described. She
shut their voices out of her mind and ran.
The teashop was a ramshackle building, half-timbered
and leaning. It seemed to be held together by ivy, which
grew, dark green and lush, all up and down the sides.
There wasn't a rose bush in sight.
Keelie walked onto the deck, which was huge, and covered by an arbor draped in-what else?-ivy. Maybe the
ivy had eaten the roses.
Inside, Mrs. Butters was pulling a tray from an oven.
The gingerbread woman smiled kindly at Keelie, who
didn't return the smile. She didn't want to get used to anyone being nice or friendly to her. It was better this way.
Keelie Heartwood was out of this place the first chance
she had.
"Good morning, Keelie. What can I get for you?" The
gingerbread woman smiled, her little black-raisin eyes
shining in her brown face. Keelie resisted the urge to lean
forward and sniff her.
"A couple of muffins, please." Too many carbs, but
after this morning it was a well-deserved treat.
"What kind do you want?"
"Do you have any blueberry?"
"Of course. But they're for the mundanes. For us I have
some with unicorn fruit and crystal seeds. Of course, this
may be a bit more to your liking." The woman reverently
held out a golden mound-topped muffin speckled with
bright bits of red berry. "Fairy winkberry. It's your father's
favorite."
"Fairy winkberry," Keelie repeated, hoping she wasn't
losing her hearing.
The woman's eyes twinkled. "Yes, fairy winkberry. I
don't make these very often, for the berries are rare in these
parts, but one of the jousters happened upon a blooming plant near the meadow the other day and brought me
back a basket."
Berries sounded more normal than crystal seeds. For all
she knew, the crystal-seed muffin could have quartz bits in
it. She remembered the toothless guy from the day before.
No doubt about it. He could've been a crystal-seed muffin
victim.
"Okay. Fairy winkberry. But since it's so big, I'll have
just one. And a tall chai."
"I'm afraid I don't have chai, but I do have a lovely
herbal tea that goes great with the muffins." She pulled
a tray from a stack and put the muffin on it, with a lacy
paper doily underneath it.
No chai. Of course not. Keelie remembered going to
the coffee shop at the mall with Laurie and the gang after
school. Chai and coffee were their favorite hot drinks. This
place was totally primitive.
"How about a coffee then, dark roast?"
"Aren't you a little young for coffee? I think Zeke would
object." The feminine voice behind her sounded disapproving.
Keelie quickly turned to see who had spoken to her. It
was the herb lady, Raven's mother, dressed in purple and
white, her billowing sleeves embroidered with little green herb plants. Her bracelets jingled and chimed with her
movements.
Heat crept up Keelie's cheeks as she looked down at her
mismatched Muck and Mire Show outfit. And the woman
smelled divine, like something from an exotic land. Mom
had never worn perfume. She'd thought it was unprofessional.
The memory of her mother brought Keelie back to
reality. Who was this woman to question whether or not
Keelie could have coffee? To call her dad Zeke and pretend
she knew what his rules were? Mom let her have coffee.
And it wasn't any of this woman's business if she did. Her
motherly act was irritating.
She was probably out to impress her dad, Keelie
thought. And if that's the case, she's auditioning for a part
that doesn't exist.
"I think that's for me to decide," Keelie said. "I'm old
enough to make my own food choices."
"I know that your dad eats as naturally as possible,
just like your grandmother," the herb woman said, unperturbed. "Besides, it's going to be too hot for coffee."
She didn't want the nosy herb lady to rat her out, but
she wasn't giving in yet. She turned back to Mrs. Butters.
"Do you have Coke?"
The herb lady frowned.
"No," Mrs. Butters said. "But the turkey leg stand
opens in about an hour, and they sell soft drinks there."
Keelie sighed. What kind of eating place didn't sell
Coke? This was taking the medieval theme all too seriously. "Okay, give me the herbal tea."
The muffin lady and the herb lady smiled at each other.
Keelie looked away. She didn't want to make friends with
anyone who treated her like a child, but the herb lady's gentle smile made Keelie ache for Mom's smile. The smile that
said, "No, you can't have it," in a loving but firm way. The
one that said, "I love you enough to say no." That smile.
She could feel her throat swelling up like it always did
whenever her mother's smiling face appeared in her mind,
aware that she'd never see her smile again except in photographs. Mom would never, ever say no to Keelie again. She
vividly remembered their last fight. She'd wanted to have
her belly button pierced like her friends Laurie and Ashlee.
Keelie ran her hands over her stomach. She could do it now
if she wanted to. Who was going to stop her, the herb lady?
Her dad?
The minute she got back to L.A., she would get her
belly button pierced. Mom couldn't stop her, and for sure
her father wouldn't stop her. When she came to visit, he
wouldn't notice, either. He was too busy with his trees,
customers, and that dumb cat to notice that Keelie had
done something that she'd always wanted to do. It would
be a sign of her independence. And she'd drink gallons of
coffee, the strongest she could find.
Keelie absentmindedly accepted the tray with the huge
golden-domed muffin and the cup of hot tea. The herb
lady handed the muffin lady a green cup just like the one
Keelie had seen Father drinking tea out of earlier this
morning.
Keelie plopped her tray down on a table in the farthest
corner of the deck. She picked up the muffin and touched the bits of fairy winkberry. Probably a cutesy name for
cranberries.
The herb lady sat down in the chair opposite Keelie.
Keelie glared at her and started to pick apart her muffin.
She took a bite, starving but determined not to scarf it
down in front of this woman.
"We weren't introduced earlier. I'm Janice. I think you
know my daughter."
"Where is Raven today?"
"Tending my shop so that I can do some errands." She
sipped her tea. "I knew who you were the minute you
stepped into my shop. You look just like your dad. You
smiled a little then."
"Your shop smelled nice," Keelie said.
"Thank you. You're welcome back any time. I heard
your luggage didn't come in with your flight yesterday.
Don't you hate that?"
Keelie dropped the muffin back onto the tray. "Yeah,
and what can I do? I'm stuck with these stupid clothes like
I'm stuck being here at this stupid fair."
Janice folded her arms. "It stinks, doesn't it? Being
ripped away from the school and people you knew and
loved and all of a sudden you're here. I lost my mother
when I was sixteen. She died of cancer. I guess that's why I
turned to herbs. I wanted to heal the world, but I couldn't
forget the awful days in the hospital. No regular medical
school for me."
Keelie's resolve to be surly thawed a little. "Yeah,
well ...I just want my clothes." She wanted her mother
back, too. She realized that she was mad. She was mad at Mom for dying, she was mad at Dad for showing up in
her life now that Mom was gone, and she was mad at the
world for moving forward when the most important person in the world was no longer here to say no to her.
"Zeke was so excited that you were coming. He kept
telling everyone. We thought it would be next week,
though. This Faire's almost over, and he thought you'd
come closer to the end."
Janice didn't give up. Couldn't she tell that Keelie didn't
want to have this conversation? If Janice wasn't leaving,
maybe she could get some information out of her.
"So the Faire's almost over? What happens then?"
"Some of the workers are locals, and they do this for
extra cash, for fun. For others, your father for instance, it's
part of a circuit. There are Renaissance Faires all over the
country, at different times of the year. Lots of the artisans
and performers will head to another Faire after this one."
Surprised, Keelie wondered where they would be
headed. And what about school? She'd been given her final
grades, but what about next year? Maybe Dad was taking
her to California. Wishful thinking. "Where will you go?"
"The big Faire in upstate New York. It's called Wildewood Faire. It lasts three months, and then winter comes,
and some go south, others go home until the spring."
Keelie found herself eating her muffin. It was delicious.
The fairy winkberries tasted like a mixture of strawberry
and vanilla, and they burst in her mouth with sunshiny
warmth. She sipped her tea. It tasted good, too, darn it.
"Keelie, go easy on your dad," Janice said. She hesi- rated, then added, "He was devastated by your mother's
death."