by JL Bryan
***
Jason waited in his room with his suitcase. On the bed, Grizlemor took his time piling a couple of books, his filthy wool jacket, and a yellowed cotton bedroll onto a moth-eaten plaid blanket, while Jason tapped his fingers. The goblin tied this up into a bundle and slid a stick through the knot. He slung it over his shoulder.
“Ready,” the goblin said.
“Good for you.” Jason threw his backpack onto the bed. “Hop inside anytime you like.”
Grizlemor sat down beside it.
“I suppose I must have mentioned this a thousand times,” Grizlemor said, “But you're an idiot for making this record. It's dumb even by human standards.”
“No choice now,” Jason said, shoving some socks into the corner of his sloppily overpacked suitcase. “We signed a contract.”
“I hope you reviewed it carefully. A contract can be a dangerous thing.”
“Mitch and Dred said it was okay.”
“I suppose they're devils?” Grizlemor asked.
“What? No. What are you talking about?”
“I mean barristers.”
“Lawyers?”
“In Faerie, all the lawyers are devils,” Grizlemor said. “I'm afraid my sarcasm was lost somewhere in your confusion.”
“Whatever. They said it's fine.”
“I hope they studied it closely. The devils do their most effective work in the details,” Grizlemor said.
“The contract wasn't made by devils. Just normal, human lawyers, I'm sure.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Jason sat on his suitcase to force it closed. “I'll deal with the humans. You just watch out for evil fairies and dragons.” He picked up his suitcase. “Are you ready?”
Grizlemor sighed and climbed into the backpack, along with his stick and bundle. Jason zipped him inside. He slung the pack over his shoulder, then picked up his guitar case.
Jason trudged downstairs, weighed down by all his baggage.
Both his parents were awake and sitting at the kitchen table, but Katie was still in her room. Jason's aunt, uncle, and cousin had spent the night at the Brown Bear Lodge, since there wasn't room enough in Jason's house for all of them. They'd be driving back to Sheboygan today.
“Hi, Jason,” his mom said. She gave him a sad little smile. It looked like she'd been crying.
“I can't believe we're letting you do this.” His dad shook his head.
“Good morning to you, too,” Jason said. He sat down at the table with them, though there was no breakfast. His dad wasn't even eating his usual bowl of Fiber Puffs.
“Busy night last night,” his dad said.
“I can call a cab, if you're too tired to drive,” Jason said. “Mitch is getting one, anyway. I can ride with him.”
“Maybe that's best,” his dad said, which surprised Jason a little. “It was a long night. And we still have a few repairs to make from your friends wrecking the house.”
“They weren't my friends,” Jason said. “Word just got out we were having a party, and...I guess everybody expected a concert or something.”
“They were awfully wild,” his mom said.
“I guess they expected a different kind of party,” Jason said.
“We don't appreciate it at all,” his dad said.
“Me either!” Jason said. “I didn't want all those people here.”
“Well, we won't have to worry about that sort of thing for a while,” his dad said. “With you out of town. We'll have to find someone to help us watch Katie, of course.”
“I'll be back as soon as I can.”
“You'll be too busy,” his mom said. “We haven't discussed how this is going to affect your school.”
“That's not for a few months.”
“You said you'll be going on tour,” his dad said. “I can’t believe we agreed to all this.”
“We'll figure it out, Dad. Don’t worry.” Jason smiled, hoping the enchantment from his guitar wasn’t starting to fade.
His dad stared at him. “Why haven't we discussed any of this? I feel like I've been in a fog this last couple of weeks.”
“I better call Mitch about the cab,” Jason said. He carried everything out to the front steps. He dropped the backpack along with his suitcase, momentarily forgetting Grizlemor was inside, until he heard the goblin say “Oof!” when the backpack hit the concrete walk.
“Sorry!” Jason whispered. He called Mitch and asked for the cab to swing by and pick him up, too.
“You recognize that this requires you to split the cab fare,” Mitch said over the phone.
“Yeah, that's fine.”
“In fact, given that the cab is only coming due to my foresight, perhaps the fare should be split 55/45—”
“No way.”
“Merely a suggestion,” Mitch said, then hung up.
Jason returned inside. He left the backpack and suitcase outside, but held tight to his guitar case, remembering how easily he'd stolen the instruments when the fairies left them unattended for a moment.
He set down his guitar case, and his mom hugged him, and his dad shook his hand and gave him two hundred dollars.
“I don’t need money,” Jason said. “Thanks anyway, though.”
“Take it, I’ll feel better,” his dad said.
“I wish you weren’t leaving,” his mom whispered. “I wished we’d never signed that contract.”
“Everything will be fine,” Jason said. “I’ll say bye to Katie.”
He went upstairs and opened his sister’s door, expecting to find her asleep. Instead, she was sitting up, reading a Spider-man comic.
“Katie,” he said, “I’m about to leave.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back in a few weeks.”
“Whatever.”
Jason walked into the room and hugged her. She resisted, but finally hugged him back with one arm.
“Don’t really go,” she whispered. “Jason, I have a bad feeling. I had a bad dream.”
“It’s just a dream,” Jason said. “I’ll be fine. People go to Ireland and back all the time.”
“Don’t let the evil leprechauns get you.”
“Leprechauns aren’t evil. They’re just greedy. Everything will be fine, Katie.”
“Okay.” She didn’t seem convinced. Jason thought he saw tears forming in her eyes. “I have to go. The cab’s going to be here in a minute.”
“Bye, Jason.”
“Bye. I’ll bring you back a present.” Jason smiled at her as he left, but she didn’t smile back.