Into The Wildewood Part 6

"Having our one animated character, our children's favorite, drop the F-bomb is wrong!" Finch yelled. "Get out of the d.a.m.n Plumpkin suit. You don't deserve to wear it. From now on you're working the Steak-on-a-Stake booth." The windows rattled from her yells. Keelie could almost see the woman's sweat turn to steam.

She quickly slipped out of the Plumpkin costume, afraid that otherwise, Finch would turn her upside down and shake the suit until she fell out of it. She wondered if she'd subconsciously screwed up because she hated being Plumpkin. Whatever. Keelie was ecstatic. How bad could the Steak-on-a-Stake booth be? No more stinky old costume. But what had been inside the bottom of the foot? She reached down and pulled out a soft, yellow-streaked wad of black cloth, then shook it to see what it was. She screamed and dropped it.

"Now what?" Finch shouted.

Keelie pointed to the dingy, tiger-striped men's briefs on the floor. A couple of the tiger stripes went in another direction, suspiciously like skid marks.

Finch sighed. "Vernerd was looking for those." She handed Keelie a bottle of hand sanitizer. "You might want to use this stuff twice."

Keelie accepted it, shuddering. This was worse than lice. Her foot had been on top of men's underwear. Worse, Vernerd's obviously used underwear.

Finch sat back in her chair. "I might retire Plumpkin. I was thinking about maybe having fairies. Know anything about fairies?"

Keelie grimaced. "More than you want to know."

Finch's complexion was returning to a more human pink. "Good. Draw some pictures and give them to Mona. She'll start on the costumes next week. Not like we don't have other things to handle around here. If I have one more complaint from Princess Whine-A-Lot, I'll personally sew her lips together."

Keelie was beginning to like Finch, despite her temper. At least one person didn't think that Elia was perfect and beautiful. "I can't draw."

"Can you draw a stick figure?"

"I guess." How much did Finch know about the bhata? bhata? The little fairies looked like sticks and leaves and bits of moss, but most humans couldn't see them. The little fairies looked like sticks and leaves and bits of moss, but most humans couldn't see them.

Finch shrugged. "Come back later, and I'll give you some crayons and computer paper and you can have at it."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," Finch bellowed.

Mona entered the room with a bundle under her arm. She seemed to have shed yesterday's stress. Although her face was still creased and worried-looking, her shoulders weren't hunched up. "Here's the costume you asked for."

She held up a full red skirt and a black bodice printed with white cow spots, and, to top off the horror, a short black vampire cape with a tall, stiff collar.

Keelie thought that this Count Von Bovine getup was almost worse than the old yellow Muck and Mire skirt, with the red handprints on the b.u.t.t, that she'd had to wear when she'd first arrived at the High Mountain Faire. She cringed. "You've got to be kidding me."

"No. Get dressed and haul your a.s.s to Steak-on-a-Stake. It's just past noon." Finch snapped her fingers several times in a row. "Lunchtime crowd. People are hungry. Move it."

"What about shoes?" Keelie wiggled her bare feet. The thought of steak was enticing. She hadn't eaten all day.

"Mona, get her some hose and boots."

"Follow me." Mona pulled a pair of green tights from a shelf stacked high with them. "We've got lots in stock because of the Faire's Robin Hood story line." She gave Keelie an apologetic smile. "And these are the only shoes left in your size."

Keelie put on the hose, even though they seriously clashed with her costume. She looked like a used-up Christmas ornament.

The shoes were something else. They didn't just totally clash, they looked like something from a genie-reject pile: glittery gold booties with stuffed fabric curlicues that swirled over the toes.

Once dressed, Keelie gathered up the sweaty leotard and yoga pants she'd worn under the Plumpkin costume. Mona called out, "Wait a minute. Don't forget your mail." She pointed to the stack on a chair.

"Thanks."

Keelie scooped up the untidy heap of envelopes and paper, then walked down the steps, treading carefully in the weird shoes. And she'd thought it was tough to negotiate the acorns in her regular shoes-she was going to break a leg. She made it past the path that skirted the woods and led to the campground, wondering if Elianard was hiding out in the forest, watching her.

Thinking of the forest made her long for the green coolness of the deep woods. A sudden need surged through her-she had to find the unicorn. Right now. She glanced down at the envelopes and papers in her hands, tempted to ditch them and run into the woods. The top sheet was torn from a notebook and covered in handwritten phone messages.

The pull of the unicorn faded as she saw Laurie's name. She slowed down and read. Laurie said she couldn't wait to see her on Friday! Keelie's skip of joy ended abruptly as the flipped-up curlicues on her gold booties tangled together. She struggled to regain her footing, then looked around quickly. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.

She hurried along, growing accustomed to walking in the funny footwear, her head spinning with plans. It suddenly occurred to her that with Laurie here, she couldn't spend her free time helping Dad.

Her happiness deflated as she thought of her overworked father. Just a while ago he'd looked pale and tired. She couldn't say no to him, but she wanted to show Laurie a good time, and to prove to herself that her new life wasn't the lame-fest she often accused it of being. She had a sinking feeling that her life would get insane in the coming days.

A family pa.s.sing by laughed as their toddler pointed at Keelie's outfit and said something in baby talk. She gritted her teeth and shuffled on. This bites, she thought. Scott was at the California Faire, and she was stuck with a one-way ticket to Steak-on-a-Stake. But she couldn't screw up this job. There was more to the Faire than food service and ridiculous costumes, and Steak-on-a-Stake was just a step toward good money and a fun gig-maybe even the Francesca job.

To keep from looking at the Faire goers' reactions to her garb, Keelie rummaged through the rest of the mail. Business envelopes addressed to Zeke Heartwood, although a couple of them looked as if they'd been made from homemade paper, the kind you buy at museum shops, and were addressed in faded-looking calligraphy.

One of these was addressed to Zekeliel Heartwood, and the return address was the Dread Forest. She recognized the handwriting from a package she'd received earlier in the summer. Sadness seemed to seep into her fingers from the envelope. She knew that Grandmother Keliatiel, her dad's mother, hadn't written to her. Her elven grandmother didn't feel for her the way Grandma Josephine had. Her maternal grandmother had liked to spend time with her, and had taken her shopping and sent her funny cards for no reason. She'd died before Mom did, and now it seemed like everything that remained of Keelie's old life was dead-except for Laurie.

She didn't expect the same warm feelings from Grandmother Keliatiel. After all, Grandmother Keliatiel was an elf, and elves were very different from humans. She wondered if elven anatomy was different. She'd probably find out in the fall. As vain as most of them were, maybe they had mirrors where their hearts should be. She wasn't like them. Like her rounded right ear, her heart was totally human. Too human, judging from the pain that had haunted her in the months since her mother's death.

Keelie tucked her grandmother's letter into the back of the stack and headed toward Heartwood. At the shop, she was surprised to see no Dad and no customers. Weird. In Colorado, the furniture shop had always been crowded with people. The lane outside was filled with tourists, and Lulu's shop next door rang with laughter, but in Heartwood, the only movement came from Knot, who lounged sideways on the counter, grooming the stuffed unicorn he'd stolen from Lulu's shop.

"I hope Dad makes you get a job to pay for that." Keelie dropped the mail next to him. "So, did Dad leave you in charge?"

To a mundane walking by, Knot probably seemed like any ordinary shop cat. Knot meowed, a sweet cry that ended on an up note as if he were asking a question.

"No mail for you, Knotsie."

She reached out to pet him. He swatted at her, claws extended, and she pulled her hand back just in time. "Don't worry, I'm not going to take the 'ittle kitty's toy away from him."

Knot growled.

"Love you, too. Not." She laughed at her lame pun. Knot didn't seem to think it was funny, although who could tell with cats? And that's when she saw the white cat curled up in the doorway that led to the back room.

Her father walked into the shop, trailing oak leaves. He leaned heavily against one of the posts of the open display floor and lifted a shoe to peel off a leaf that was stuck to the sole. "Keelie, glad you're here. I need your help ... "

He stopped talking as he got a good look at her. His gaze trailed down from the top of her head to the tip of her gold curlicued toes. The edges of his mouth twitched. "I see you've got a new job, but where? I don't recognize the, er, outfit."

"At the Steak." She pointed to her jersey-cow-printed vest. Then she moved her index finger to her vampire cape. "On a Stake."

He snorted, but swallowed before the guffaw that was building escaped and, instead, coughed into his fist. "I'm very proud of you for working so hard to repay me for your boots, but I'm also going to need your help here. Until I hire a helper, you'll have to fill in."

"After work? No way." Keelie protested out of principle. She'd suspected he'd need her, but she'd thought she'd have at least a few days to herself before she had to dive into the world of wood. She gritted her teeth. On the other hand, if she didn't fight this, then maybe she'd have more time to herself when Laurie arrived.

"Okay, fine. You can tell me the details later." Keelie shoved her leotard and yoga pants under the counter. "Do you mind if I leave these here? I'm late."

"Sure." Dad sounded tired. "Thanks for not making a fuss. And good luck with the job."

"It'll be a piece of-steak." The job would be easy, if not for the humiliating costume. She waved goodbye and stepped onto the lane, immediately sinking ankle deep in oak leaves. Branches rustled above her and a few more leaves drifted down, as if the trees were laughing at her.

She tossed a stern look upwards, then headed to work, shuffling her feet to keep the acorns to the sides of her flimsy-bottomed shoes. It would be treacherous to walk normally around here. The hidden acorns were like marbles.

Knot sat at the shop door watching her dance through the acorns. Keelie frowned at him. "Laugh it up, fuzzy. And don't even think of coming with me."

He blinked up at her in kitty eye Morse code. She knew the cat. He meant, "Can, will, and you can't stop me."

She ignored him and hurried toward the food court area, walking as fast as she could while trying not to slip. He kept pace with her, and she noticed that people pointed at them. "That's right," she muttered. "No one's ever seen a vampire cowgirl and her strange kitty bodyguard before. Stand in awe, tourists."

The Steak-on-a-Stake booth was in the King's Food Court, along with about twenty other colorful food vendors all squashed together. It was very much like the booths in the Enchanted Lane, except for the delicious smell of all kinds of different food.

Keelie's stomach grumbled as she caught the tantalizing scent of roasting meat. Long lines of people overflowed into the clearing from the front of each booth. There would be no rest for the weary food servers, nor food for the hungry that didn't have cash. She couldn't pretend she'd missed the Steak-on-a-Stake booth: the sign that hung over the counter featured a fanged, dancing cow wearing a black cape.

Knot had vanished, thank goodness.

Between the Steak-on-a-Stake booth and the Death by Chocolate booth was a wooden fence with a narrow door marked "Peasants Only." She pushed on the rickety wooden slats and found herself momentarily disoriented by the sight of modern-day delivery trucks parked at the rear of the shops. The illusion of the Middle Ages didn't extend to back here, where big refrigerated metal lockers hummed.

A burly, unshaven man wearing an ap.r.o.n over soiled blue jeans yelled to her. "Hey you, Steak Girl, get up to the booth. You're late. Peggy's been waiting for you."

Keelie knocked on the plain, metal-clad Steak-on-a-Stake door. It opened a crack and a woman with a pinned-up braid of gray hair poked her head out. "About time you decided to show up for work." A strong, calloused hand grabbed Keelie by the wrist and pulled her into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry. I had trouble with my uniform." Yeah, it made her nauseated.

Skinny girls in Steak-on-a-Stake T-shirts were grilling strips of meat. As fast as they could get the steak off the grill, a young man with carroty hair poking out of his hair-net grabbed the strips, sprinkled some herb-looking stuff on them from a transparent spice canister, and threw them into a two-foot-square metal serving pan that was then quickly shoved out through the serving window.

"They gave you the wrong costume, girlie. Take that cape off and grab a hairnet."

"Hairnet?" But she gladly pulled off the cape and tossed it aside. It instantly flared up in flames.

Screams erupted as Keelie tried to stomp the flames out, then stopped, afraid her gold lame booties would melt to her feet.

Peggy threw a pitcher of water on the flames and put them out, drenching Keelie in the process. Now she was a scorched, wet vampire cowgirl. Great.

Curious eyes peered at her from the pa.s.s-through window. The counter help were the ones who wore the vampire cape outfits with the cow-spot bodices. There must have been a bra size requirement, too, because all of the girls were bodaciously endowed.

"Get back to work," Peggy barked, and the a.s.sembly line began once more.

A buxom blonde grabbed the tray of cooked and skewered meat that perched on the pa.s.s-through and turned to serve the customers. In the kitchen, all of the steak workers were hot and sweaty and moving as fast as they could.

Peggy ignored Keelie's dripping outfit. "I need you to take Jimmy's place and sprinkle the 'rub,' as we call it, onto the meat. Don't touch the food, just hold it by the stick."

Peggy shoved the canister of "rub" into Keelie's hand and shouted to Jimmy, "I need you on the grill." She turned to the others. "Come on people. Move it. Move it. Customers want their meat before the joust."

Keelie sprinkled the spicy rub on the meat as fast as she could. She'd seen an identical clear plastic jar of spice at a warehouse club. In seconds she had become part of the meatmoving line, which reminded her of a cartoon factory. She had just gotten into the rhythm of it, or she thought she had, when Peggy yelled, "Come on rub girl, move it. Move it. Move it."

Toss in a couple of swear words and she'd be convinced that Peggy and Finch were related.

Keelie shook the spice jar faster over the meat. A cloud of rub floated around her. A tickle started up in her nose. Don't sneeze, she thought. Don't sneeze Don't sneeze. It was useless.

She turned her head to avoid the tray in front of her. Her sneeze blasted through the noise and sprayed the tray of finished meat about to go out the window.

Silence.

As if that wasn't enough to stop the Steak-on-a-Stake production line again, a tiny meow filled the quiet. Keelie looked down. So did everyone else. Knot sat at her feet, green eyes wide and kitten-like. He placed his paw on her leg, gazed up at her, and purred.

Something was up. She could tell from the tone, because it wasn't his usual s.a.d.i.s.tic purr, but a sweet soft purr, the kind that made you want to pet him if you didn't know him.

Someone said "awww," but was quickly shushed.

Peggy strode over to them, armed with a broom. "No cats. No filthy, mangy cats!" Knot's tail twitched back and forth, narrowed eyes focused on the angry woman. His purr changed, becoming louder and more intense. Peggy lifted her arm, ready to whack.

Knot was a pain in the b.u.t.t, but she couldn't let this woman pound him with her broom. "I'm so sorry. I'll get him out."

Peggy lowered her broom and glowered at her. "This is your cat?"

Keelie nodded. No use denying it.

"I see." Peggy's face relaxed and she leaned on the broom. For a moment, Keelie was hopeful, but a second later the woman waved her hand dismissively. "Take your cat and yourself and get out of my booth."

"Okay. I'll be right back." It wouldn't take long to drop-kick Knot into the forest and scamper back.

"Don't bother coming back."

Her heart stopped. "But, but I just learned how to sprinkle the rub faster." No fair.

"Out." Peggy pointed at the back door. The other girls stared at her, looking about as smart as the costumed cow on the sign out front. "We have a three-strike rule. Setting a fire, sneezing on food, bringing your pet-you're out of here, missy."

Knot's muscles gathered. He leaped into the serving window just as Jimmy pa.s.sed the next heavy serving tray of grilled meat to the buxom blonde. The girl with the overflowing bodice shrieked as Knot appeared on the serving tray, cutting off her cry of, "We need more steak!"

Knot had landed squarely in the middle of the steak strips, tilting the tray sideways just as the blonde placed it on the serving counter. A customer wearing khaki shorts and a spotless white polo shirt jumped back, but steak grease still splattered his tube socks and white Nikes. It was raining grilled steak-on-a-stake.

Peggy's eyes bulged. "I told you to get out of here!" she yelled.

Keelie ran, with Peggy right after her, broom in hand.

nine.

Keelie was sure she'd feel Peggy's broom on her head or her backside, but the woman had turned to run out the peasants' exit. Keelie heard her apologizing profusely, probably to the spattered man.

She looked around wildly for Knot, then spotted him hightailing it toward the woods with a spear of steak chunks in his mouth. She ran after him, lifting her feet high to keep from slipping, then stared at the rub canister still in her hand. Now was not the time to return it.

Behind her, the crowd laughed and cheered as if the mayhem were part of the show. Keelie ran on, trying to keep Knot in sight. She slipped past the end of the shops, where delivery trucks lined a small gravel road leading to the employee parking lot.

On the other side of the parking lot, several picnic tables were grouped under a small stand of sycamores. A distant fanfare blasted the air and she heard cheering. The joust was starting. She plunked down on the wooden seat of one of the tables and dropped the rub on the grease-stained tabletop. No guests would see her here, and everyone else was too busy working. She'd be alone for a while.

Maybe Elia had cursed her. She'd been fired from two jobs in one day. But Elia wasn't that smart. And with the dumb decisions Keelie had been making, she didn't need a curse to make her life go bad.