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.

The mom handed her camera to Zeke and asked, “Will you take our picture?”

Zeke smiled and the woman blushed. She leaned against Keelie and the baby tugged on Plumpkin’s googly eyes.

“Say turkey legs,” Zeke encouraged. Keelie noticed dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t had dark circles under his eyes this morning.

“Turkey legs.” The mom had a goofy grin on her face. The baby sneezed his icky baby grossness onto Plumpkin. Zeke clicked the camera. An outcry pulled her attention to Lulu’s.

“You little jerk! Leave my shop alone.” Lulu was one angry woman. Red-faced and waving a fist in the air, she threatened a pudgy little man in a gherkin-shaped hat and skintight green hose who was running away, one hand holding the floppy hat to his head while the other clutched a wooden contraption to his chest. A girl in green golf pants huffed and puffed after him, pushing a two-wheeled cart. Lulu’s steps were littered with pickles. Poor Lulu. First acorns, now dills.

Lulu vanished into her shop and reappeared in her white fairy wings, dancing a Dragon marionette in front of her gorgeous white gown. Chiming music filled the air and the kids in Dad’s shop ran out toward her, followed by their confused parents. Keelie hadn’t thought puppets were that popular. She watched as the baby turned his head toward Lulu. His bright eyes glazed over, and he pointed toward the puppet lady dressed in her fairy godmother splendor.

Knot sauntered over to the puppet shop. Lulu seemed confused when he entered, followed by Keelie, who was followed by the white cat. Her smile seemed a little forced. “There you are, Plumpkin.”

Keelie pointed in the direction of the Admin building. She hoped Lulu understood that Finch had sent her to the puppet shop.

More and more little kids assembled in front of Lulu’s shop. It seemed they were drawn to it like the children of Hamelin were drawn by the Pied Piper’s enthralling music.

Lulu looked uncomfortable, and her skin was breaking out in those weird, red, irritating and itchy-looking bumps. Keelie could so relate. Between the aggravating cloth in the foot of the costume and the glitter, she was still super itchy.

The trees began to sway.

Green magic tingled through Keelie. Great, now something was up with the oaks. They were wide awake. She hoped they didn’t pummel the mundanes with acorns. It was time for Zeke to do some tree shepherd therapy.

Knot carried a stuffed unicorn in his mouth, price tag dangling. He dropped it.

“Hey, stop that cat.” Lulu pointed at Knot.

Blinking at her with his big green eyes, Knot placed his paw on the stuffed unicorn. Lulu stepped out into the Enchanted Lane. Before Keelie could shout out a warning, a shower of acorns cascaded down on the puppet-maker. The families who had gathered to see the puppet show ran, but they hadn’t been the target of the oak trees’ ire.

Keelie searched for her father. He needed to put the oaks back to sleep. She didn’t know how.

As she shuffled quickly toward the shop, wishing she could run in her ridiculous costume, the little brat in plastic armor appeared. He ran up to Keelie and began beating her with his wooden sword.

“Die, stinky dragon. Die, stinky dragon.”

Where was his mother? Keelie tried dancing from foot to foot. The kid hit the back of her knee, and she fell on her face. He hit her head, over and over. The costume’s foam rubber deflected the sword, but she couldn’t get up.

In pain and frustration, Keelie shouted a single word—one that began with “F.” She realized her mistake the minute it left her lips. The boy vanished from her Plumpkin-eye-socket window, replaced by a woman whose mouth was shaped in a soundless “O” of shock.

Knot ran into Heartwood, the unicorn still in his mouth. All around, horrified parents covered their children’s ears.

Lulu dropped her dragon marionette and began hopping up and down. “Out. Out. Out. These kids don’t need to hear your filthy talk! Don’t think I won’t report you to Finch!!”

Keelie found herself on her way back to Admin, steeling herself to face the real dragon.