by Kate Danley
A little, old man came out of the back room, weighing in at 5-foot nothing. He had a full head of neatly trimmed white hair. He was sporting green velvet lederhosen. I tried not to judge. After traveling with Killian, those who live in tights should not throw stones.
"Are you here with the convention?" the man asked, getting a gander at Killian.
"Are you Gustav? From the advertisement? I am here for the employment!" Killian chirped.
The old man pushed his reading spectacles down to the tip of his nose and peered over the frames to get a better look. He then glanced at me. "Are you looking for a job, too?" he asked.
"No—" I said.
Simultaneously, Killian piped up, "Yes, she is!"
"Which is it?" the man asked.
"Just here to enjoy the festivities," I replied.
"Well, let me know if you change your mind. We can always use an attractive girl strong enough to carry six liters of beer." The old man pushed his glasses back into place. "What's your name?"
I saw Killian's brain crunch as he simultaneously realized that if he was in hiding, he shouldn't be giving his real name to anyone, but that meant he had to figure out on the spot what a good, remember-able human name might be.
"Kevin," I said, putting my hand on the small of his back. "He's a little shy. Tell the nice man your name, KEVIN."
"Kevin. My name is Kevin," said Killian.
"He's not the brightest," I whispered to Gustav. I stuck my hand out as I babbled. "And I'm Maude. Short for Maudlin. Maudlin and Kevin. But call me Maude."
"I guess it's good I won't be hiring him for his brains. Or you," said the little man. He hooked a finger Killian's direction. "Follow me. KEVIN."
Killian gave me a double thumbs up as he walked into the back office. I sighed. My eyes fell on the saccharine paintings of the happy children frolicking in the fields. I wasn't exactly sure what I should be doing while I waited for Killian, but I was pretty sure it didn't involve spending another moment in a lobby decorated with horrors like that, so I wandered into the parking lot.
It was still early, but there were food trucks parked in the lot, hawking tacos and Kobe beef sliders in case anyone wasn't feeling in the sauerkraut mood. I was about twenty seconds from running into the grocery store and finding a bottle I could sip out of a paper bag when Killian came practically skipping out the front door of the hotel.
"I got the job, Maggie!" he exclaimed, picking me up and swinging me around.
"Hold your horses, there, hoss!" I said.
He put me down and actually squeed. "It is my first experience with outside employment!"
"What do you call what we've been doing?" I pointed out to him.
"You are my partner and I was forced to go into business with you." He held his arms out wide. "But THIS? All THIS? It is mine! And to be in such an atmosphere and also be paid $8.50 an hour! Isn't it a glorious day?"
I didn't want to break it to him that the cost of gas driving from Mindy's place in South Pasadena to Torrance each day was going to eat into those profits quite a bit. Instead, I attempted to be supportive. It was a big step for me. "So, tell me what he said? What is the job?"
"I shall be a part of the refuse disposal team," announced Killian with pride.
"You're their new garbage man?"
"Yes! I am! I shall go through the tent each night and inquire if the revelers are enjoying their time at the festival. I may then remove the drinking vessels those revelers have completed their usage of, place them into the large, plastic bins, and then remove the refuse to the large metal dumpsters. I was also informed my assistance would be requested for moving heavy objects, and perhaps if I prove my worth to these kind souls, I shall be allowed to fill cups with delicious beverages. Or prevent those in attendance from throwing items at the oompah band! I was told not to call it a polka band."
"That sounds like a job with a lot of responsibility," I replied, my face aching from gritting my teeth so hard. "And did he mention that perk of lodging?"
"He stated we should enjoy the revels this night and ensure we enjoy the spirit of the festival before accepting this employment offer," Killian said, pulling out two blue wristbands and holding them up proudly. "Complimentary!"
My hand instinctively went up and touched my neck. I had removed my neckguard so as not to scare the locals during the day. I hadn't anticipated being out past dusk.
Killian wasn't paying any attention, though. "He informed me that if I enjoy the festival and am still here in two weeks’ time, I may exchange my salary for a free room at the hotel!" he chirped.
I tried to pull it together. It was one night without my neckguard. Surely it would be fine. Instead, I focused on the issue at hand. "That's not free..." I started to say. "You'll be working for free in exchange for a room..."
"Oh, Maggie, you are always seeing the worst in people's actions."
"No, literally, that is what he is doing."
Killian put his hand on my shoulder. "Let us enjoy the Oktoberfest this evening. If it is a terrible event, I shall not take the job. But I have a feeling you are going to be quite upset you did not take Gustav up on his offer to carry the beers."
"Who is Gustav?"
"The very kind owner of this property. The hotel proprietor!"
"I'm sure you're right, Killian," I replied. I didn't have it in me to dissuade Killian if this is what he really wanted to do. "And you know what? I think getting a celebratory drink right now is an excellent idea. Shall we go in? Right now?"
"This is so pleasing!" he said. As we walked across the parking lot, he was practically prancing towards the large, white, Oktoberfest tent. "Now, if I appear to be distracted, it is merely because I am observing my fellow co-workers and the strange customs and habits of humans so that I shall not 'blow my cover'." He looked at me. "Is that the correct phrase?"
"It is," I replied. "Although, I thought you said that this was a position for Other Siders?"
"I believe Gustav may be a gnome," Killian confessed. "It is difficult to tell without my senses, and he was quite perplexed by my lack of a magical signature, but I told him I was under a curse."
"And he bought it?"
"He did not seem particularly to care."
I had just a moment of reflection where I realized a few months ago, I would have put this place on my stakeout list for monsters to stake, but now I was glad someone was willing to give a permit-free guy like Killian a shot, even if Killian had no idea of the hell he was in for. "Well, congratulations."
A chain-link fence was set up around the tent and a chick was putting wristbands on all the folks walking through. We joined the crowd and soon were inside.
I felt my shoulders unknot. I felt the world slide away. I even saw a smile creep across Killian's face as he got a gander of the barmaids, able to heft six tankards while still wearing cleavage enhancing dirndls. Figured they must work a bit like a back brace. I didn't remember thigh-high tube socks being an integral part of the German girl's national costume, but I guess who needs accuracy when you're more interested in how spicy your frankfurter is going to be.
There were beer stalls pitched all around the edges of the tent and at least one hundred tables organized into long rows. A stage was at the far end and a gaggle of lederhosen-clad musicians were pumping out some traditional ditty. On either side of the stage were two large screens with the lyrics flashing so that everyone could sing along. There was a huge Plexiglas wall in front of the stage to shield the band from anyone who didn't appreciate their talents. Behind them was a three-story backdrop of Neuschwanstein, that fairytale castle in the Black Forest you see in just about every "lovely travel images of places you're not going to see this year because your life is miserable and everything sucks" calendar. Killian steered me to the first drink stand and when they saw the color of our wristband, they comped our drinks.
"On the house, new recruit!" said a muscular man in tight lederhosen.
All was right in the world.
/>
Until I was reminded that Oktoberfest in America is the home of the chicken dance.
Killian looked over at me, his eyes twinkling. "Oh Maggie, I think that I enjoy this celebration very much."
Chapter Three
Killian was going on his fourth round of the chicken dance. Every half hour on the half hour, like gawddamned clockwork, the entire crowd was up on its feet making little chicken beaks with their hands and wiggling their bottoms to the music.
Killian flopped down across the table from me, beaming from ear to ear. "Maggie! This celebratory dance! Why did you not tell me that THIS was what Oktoberfest was about!"
"I forgot," I said, finishing off the rest of my beer.
"How could you forget? We must come back! Tomorrow!"
"Slow down there," I said.
"And the polka!"
He started to rise but I grabbed him by the arm. "No. No more polkaing! These are your co-workers! You're supposed to be observing!"
That was when the band leader got on the PA to make an announcement. "We're so glad to welcome the Bringers of Light Conference attendees to our evening tonight!"
My blood ran cold as Killian and I locked eyes. The Bringers of Light? The same people who owned Firebrand Studio and were in cahoots with Mad King Cole? The ones looking to squash the Other Side flat as a pancake by killing all the elves?
I looked over at the door of the tent and instinctively reached for my stake, but I hadn't armed myself, I wasn't wearing my neckguard. This was just supposed to be a dumb job interview.
About fifty men came jogging in. They looked like they belonged to some church group or golf pro conglomerate. They were all wearing blue polo shirts and khaki pants. They didn't look like the bringers of all that was evil. In fact, they seemed like some sort of an Amway multi-level marketing group. I breathed a sigh, telling myself that everything was okay. Nothing but a bunch of corporate nerds and a corporate gig that brought its employees to a team-building exercise.
"And we're coming upon the nine o'clock hour. We remind you that there is a curfew for all little ones under the age of 18, so if you managed to sneak any children into the beer tent..."
A big, rowdy yell went up from one corner.
"...we ask you to get them to the car before they are too drunk to drive you home."
Cute.
I looked around. No one was getting up. Figured I'd let any parents gather up their young ones before I stumbled towards the door. No need to go embarrassing myself.
"We also ask that anyone with a pulse and a heartbeat make for the door at this time, because after 9 PM, things are going to get rowdy!"
I turned around to look at the DJ. It was such a weird thing to say. A couple more people left.
There was a cuckoo clock on the wall that started to go off and the entire room broke into bird calls like folks count down the dropping of the ball in Times Square.
"Nine... eight... seven..."
I stood up. Something wasn't right.
"Six... five... four..."
The countdown continued as I stumbled towards the exit.
"Three... two... one... CUCKOOO!"
The entire room burst into cheers. I could hear fireworks going off.
"And now it is time for one last chicken dance, and this time, it is to find out who is really chicken."
I turned around. Two of the Bringers of Light were squared upon the dance floor. Only, this was less of a chicken dance and more of a cockfight.
"What the hell?" I whispered.
Killian took my arm and with great urgency started steering me out of the room. "Keep walking, Maggie," he said.
I looked back, which I shouldn't have done. The beer was gone. All of the beverages running out of the tap were scarlet and as thick as syrup. Everyone around me was sprouting fangs and claws. And that was when I realized that this was no parish picnic. I was in a tent full of vampires and evil faeries.
And the two men went at each other like Greco wrestlers. Except with knives instead of fingers.
"Oh fuck, Killian," I said.
He grabbed my wrist and we raced towards the door to the tent. The shouts around us were getting vicious. It was like being surrounded by a pack of dogs in a fight. I couldn't believe I had left my stake in the glove compartment. The scars on my neck began to tingle and I couldn't help my hand from going up and covering them. I felt naked and weak without my neckguard.
"Almost there, Maggie," Killian shouted over the din of the crowd.
What was Killian going to do? He was no stronger than a normal human now. He wouldn't be able to protect me. I tried to quash my fear. The vampires would be able to smell it and that would be it. Fear was like chumming the water. Except with our blood. The gods help us, a few of the vampires tore their eyes away from the fight to watch us. I was nothing more than food in their eyes. I grabbed Killian's arm and forced him to slow into a walk. Running was calling too much attention to us. The vampires turned back to the battle once we slowed. My heart was pounding so hard, I could hear it in my ears. And that's when I realized that Killian was feeling his mortality, too. His fingers went up to the scar on his neck, the scar a pack of succubae had left on him in the fairy forest at the Renaissance Fair a couple days ago. Scars from a vampire are like arthritis in a rainstorm. They tell you when you're fucked.
We got to the front entrance.
We walked outside.
We walked to the front gate.
But there was a vampire blocking the exit. She wore booty shorts, shit-kicking boots, and a corset which cinched her waist impossibly small. I guess when you're on a liquid diet, you don't have to worry about pinching off your internal organs.
"I apologize," said Killian, giving her a little bow, but his hand completely over his scar. "I am afraid that my friend is not feeling well and we are in need of immediate departure. To our hotel. The hotel. We are with the convention."
Like a cat, she ran her tongue over her fangs and took a slow, silky step towards Killian. "I could help you depart faster than you could get to your hotel room."
"No," I said. "The hotel room will be just fine."
"You see," she purred. "There is a curfew. And I'm afraid that we are not allowed to let you out. Wouldn't want the police to arrest you."
"I think I will take my chances with the police," I said, thinking of the hundreds of vampires who could come streaming out of the tent at any moment. This was supposed to just be a fun night out.
She snapped her fangs back into her mouth, bored. She smiled. "Listen, n00bs. What are you even doing here? Didn't you hear the guy telling you to get out?" She noticed Killian's wristband. "OH! Gustav sent you. Yeah, seriously. Get out."
I had never in my entire life met a vampire who would just let a person go.
"Seriously?" I asked.
"I'm getting paid minimum wage," she shrugged. "And there is hot blood on tap. Now, get out of here before I start getting snacky." She waved her hands. "Shoo! Vamoose!"
I didn't need a second invitation. I grabbed Killian's arm and skooched us in the direction of the car.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," I murmured to Killian as we ran. "What the fuck did we just stumble upon?"
"I don't know," he said looking back over his shoulder. "I think that we should go home now."
"Faster would be better."
"Why are they all here?" he said as we dodged cars in the parking lot to get to my Dad's moose of a muscle car.
"Maybe you're not the only Other Sider who enjoys a good chicken dance?" I fumbled with the keys and unlocked the door.
Killian hopped inside and popped the lock for me. Screwing that whole idea of wasting time running around the car to get to the door, I slid across the hood and was behind the wheel in seconds flat. I slammed the locks on and revved the engine. We peeled out of the parking lot and I don't think I've ever been happier to see a place in my rear view mirror.
Killian sat pressed up against his seat, breathing heavily. He
looked at me. "Maggie? I do not believe I shall be taking that employment opportunity."
Chapter Four
We didn't talk the whole ride home. We were both on high alert in case the vampires changed their mind. Again, letting humans just walk out of a feeding frenzy is not something vampires do. So, we kept our eyes on the skies and I kept my tracker senses open and searching for a whiff of the undead. We wouldn't have heard them coming, they can fly. And I wouldn't have seen them in my mirrors, because they're vampires and we were on Earth. You can only see vampires in mirrors on the Other Side. By the time we got to Mindy's place, we were both so wrung out we could barely drag ourselves to her front door. It was just a little bit too much mortality for anyone's day.
Dad and Father Killarney were sitting in the living room together, watching some college football on TV. They were both so absorbed, they only managed to lift their hands about an inch off their chairs to acknowledge us.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, stripping off my boots in the hallway.
"They went to walk the dog," Dad replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"Everyone?" I reiterated.
"Pipistrelle likes to ride the Irish setter and everyone else wanted some exercise."
Father Killarney seemed to sense there was some weird tension in the room and tore himself away from the game. "Everything okay, Maggie-girl? Should we be calling them back in?"
"Oh... Killian had an interesting job interview," I replied, glancing up at Killian, wondering if he wanted to tell the story. He was totally peacing out of the whole thing. "There were some vampires there," I lamely explained.
"You okay?" asked Dad, still not tearing himself away from the game. "Couple vampires usually don't throw you."
"There were a lot of vampires," I corrected as I came into the room.
Killian made the universal symbol for "Would you like a beverage to drown the memories of almost dying tonight?" and I made the universal symbol for, "Please. And a lot. And hurry."