by Erin R Flynn
Izzy and I both had on glamour charms along with Mr. and Mrs. Courtenay, Hudson, Juan, and a few others who were easiest to recognize. The one that irked me though was Irma.
“Um, are you, like, okay with this?” I asked the hobgoblin who was my friend. She was wearing a charm to look like a six- or seven-year-old human girl.
And sound like one, which was rather disturbing if I was honest.
“This is how we have to blend if we come out into the world, which is why we don’t do it often, dear,” she told me gently… From where she sat on Craftsman’s hip.
“I don’t mind,” he promised. “I have a rune to hear her normally and it’s the least I can do.”
Irma snorted, clueing me in that she knew full well he was trying to butter her up. Right, they knew I was upset with him and they were always, always, always on my side. Which meant she was coming to help me?
But with what?
“Are you happy to get the chance to see this?” I hoped, studying her face carefully.
“Oh yes, very much so,” she assured me, her eyes sparkling with joy. “We used to take trips like this all the time when it was possible and we had those who cared to protect us, let us see the wonders we could.”
It was hard not to laugh as just about all the adults there winced at the very pointed comment. Well, they deserved it if the fairies made a point to give them a chance to do more than hide and they didn’t.
Others were clearly planning to blend but they had the place loaded with security. And it was needed and not just because of their status or the targets on us. Oh no, the animosity for outsiders I was feeling. There was a huge banner hanging outside a window on the road we were on that said “Tourist Invasion Go Home.”
Well, I didn’t exactly expect a red carpet rolled out but, like dayumn.
Mrs. Courtenay was watching me curiously, smiling at me gently. “Come, there is much I wish you to learn.”
I nodded, noting she didn’t say show me, but learn. What else was going on today?
She introduced us to several of the vendors, saying we were social media journalists—a stretch of that term if I’d ever heard it—who wanted not to just take frivolous pictures but truly learn the soul of La Boqueria and heart of Barcelona. I thought that beautiful but like a line.
But a line that worked and people started pouring out their plights to us. It took the help of the interpreters, but we were able to keep up with the conversation. Izzy woke quickly and was getting involved too, respectfully asking to take pictures.
“I only know fish,” one of the vendors told us through the interpreter. “I don’t know sushi. And all the tourists want sushi and trendy, but I only know fish and they drive away the locals who would shop here.”
He wasn’t the only one who said something similar. Several stall owners gave us the same sort of argument and their upsets.
“The tourists drive everyone who would shop for groceries here, which is the point of a market,” one woman told us. “They use their selfie sticks and take pictures which locals don’t want to be in. They buy nothing and ruin what the experience should be. This is not their Disneyland and they should leave.”
I almost cut off whatever Mrs. Courtenay was doing and reminded her I need happy to do the crystals, but Professor White shook her head, telling me she understood what was going on here.
Okay then.
We switched sides of the massive market and the opinions changed… Somewhat.
“Those fools are too stubborn,” a woman told us. “The supermarkets are just as much to blame. Refrigerators as well. People used to have to shop daily a hundred years ago because you couldn’t plan for two weeks and preserve it all. People like the convenience of supermarkets and food delivery and don’t want to admit they abandoned the locals, so they blame the tourists.”
“She right,” someone else piped in. “But tourists bring in money the city needs. We do not lose our identity as a city because there is one damn crepe stand added here. Snobs. They look down on us as sell-outs. We did what we must to survive and all they do is complain. Don’t blame us but the city for not putting in rules. Other cities have but ours did not.”
After a bit more listening, Mrs. Courtenay led our party to El Quim, which was opening. It was one of the super awesome restaurants there and she managed to reserve the whole place for us and preordered the entire menu.
Now we were talking.
The moment we sat down, we were asked what we wanted for drinks and the first of the tapas came out. Mrs. Courtenay and her aides seemed fascinated with how fluid our process was. Izzy took shots with her digital camera while I wrote down what it was from the menu so we got the spelling and everything right, plus any allergy warnings.
Or spice ones for people like me.
Then if it was spicy, it skipped me but if it wasn’t, I tried a bite or two before passing it along. I wrote down my thoughts and the others did as well. And we just kept going. After the first two though, Mrs. Courtenay asked Darby to take my duties over for me. He agreed but gave us both a curious glance.
“So what are your thoughts on the situation?” she asked me as she tucked into her own orders of tapas.
“I think I don’t get a vote as an outsider,” I hedged.
“Impressive you recognize that as one so young,” she praised.
“Ms. Vale is incredibly educated on life in a way I’ve seen many adults lack,” Professor White praised, sitting on the other side of Mrs. Courtenay. “I find it amazing given she also lacked parental guidance, but if you look closely you can tell where she needs that in areas to mature into a very capable woman.”
It was hard not to blush. That honestly might have been one of the nicest things ever said about me.
“Why did you show this to me?” I asked Mrs. Courtenay.
“Because sometimes I think an outsider is the perfect person to ask,” she answered honestly. “And I think it’s a lesson you will need.”
And then it hit me. “Cherrywood.” I owned a corporation that focused on luxury, authentic experiences and escapes. There wasn’t a location in Spain, but it would be something I could be faced with. What Professor White said also hit me and I realized she was trying to give me this opportunity to learn from someone as knowledgeable and experienced as Mrs. Courtenay when I didn’t have parents to guide me.
Except Mrs. Courtenay’s next words blew that theory apart.
“Yes, Cherrywood, that too,” she murmured, smirking as her eyes danced with… Something.
Something I couldn’t identify and there was no way I was risking flipping on my telepathy with all these people around and so much going on. Did she think I was a fairy? Or was it about Hudson and the looks he was giving me?
I mentally shook my head. No, I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t handle that today. I was going to take Geiger’s advice and leave it be because this woman clearly wasn’t my enemy.
Instead, I would follow Professor White’s guidance and take this opportunity. I thought about the question she asked me, and seriously as we kept eating in between giving Darby my feedback.
“I think both sides are wrong and right,” I finally answered honestly.
“Explain,” Mrs. Courtenay pushed, giving me a curious look.
“Some of the answers are simple, though the implementation might be tricky,” I said. “There are other markets that balance better. I get this is an outdoor market and they can’t keep out tour groups, but there are ways to do it if people work together.”
“Like?” Professor Edelman asked.
“Ban the fucking selfie sticks. Walking through a crowded area like this is ridiculous. Or allow that before the opening by permit like we went through for YouTubers or social media people. There are places that you have to get tickets or permission. So do it.”
“Well done,” Mrs. Courtenay praised. “What else?”
“I wouldn’t come to Spain for sushi so don’t blame me as a tourist if you offer sushi an
d it’s good and I eat it. That crepe place looked awesome and yes, I want to try it because it looked awesome. That’s not my fault. I didn’t demand it. I came here wanting real Spanish food. If you’re not offering it, don’t blame me that I went to the awesome crepe place and then bitch it’s ruining Barcelona’s identity.
“Why isn’t that a gazpacho place? And don’t tell me that won’t do well when they do well in New York and LA. Or I was dying to try real octopus a feira, paella, and bacalao. All of those are seafood dishes so don’t blame all tourists that we just want sushi. Get those sold at a place so tourists can eat it on the go and sell to that stall and there you go.
“Do I want to try the McDonald’s here? Yes, just because I think it would be cool to see if the menu’s different. But most people don’t come to Spain for the fucking McDonald’s. So yeah, those people were right in adapting but they were wrong in going too far. I agree the soul of this place needs to be preserved but updated. Everywhere needs that.”
I had learned how important that was after reading half of one of Conall Townsend’s journals one night when I couldn’t sleep over break. The man had been hundreds of years old and honestly, his life had been fascinating. He had lived so much, seen so much, that I wanted to read all of his journals and take his words to heart.
Maybe even start journaling myself. If I truly was the last fairy… What happened—no matter the outcome—needed to be documented as part of history.
Just not yet. Soon. I hoped I could swallow that pill over the summer, but I thought it was my duty just as other fairies had done so before me.
“How would you update?” a man from the other side of the counter asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He was older than the other servers and I realized he was probably the manager or owner.
I shrugged. “There are grocery shopping services. Why can’t there be one here? This is boasted as the best of everything Barcelona has to offer. Good, have one service that will pick up orders from all the stalls that participate. People would pay for that over a drab chain grocery store and to avoid the crowds and tourists. That’s more jobs for locals as well.”
“How would you do it? Most are not up on technology as you would be,” he countered.
I shrugged again, taking one of his legal paper–sized menus that patrons checked of what they wanted for their orders and showed him that. “Stalls could have this available to go up on the website like most grocery delivery sites. Say I order from five stalls. My shopper comes and hands over five printed tickets with what I ordered and the stall workers get it all and it’s not like you all are cash only.”
“That is a very intriguing option,” he admitted.
I set down his menu. “You could even have an area on side of the market just for order pickup. Say I want the exercise to come to the market and get my groceries on the way home from work, but I don’t want to jump into the throng of crazy. Or on lunch. Have it brought to that corner the tourists aren’t allowed in. There are yearly fees for those delivery services in the US.”
“Well done,” Mrs. Courtenay praised. “I see you having a very bright future, young Tamsin. You’re very fair, balanced, and able to mediate both sides’ needs like few are able to.”
I saw Professor White and Headmaster Edelman flinch out of the corner of my eye. Sooooo she knew I was a fairy. That had to be part of this. That was totally a fairy thing or what they were mostly needed for or something, right?
Great.
Fuck it. I was going to be outed before I reached a year knowing myself. Seriously, if I made it a fucking year it was going to be a miracle.
We finished eating and it was time to shop and experience the market—enjoy it now. I was stoked and from the vibes I was getting from the others, I wasn’t the only one. Mrs. Courtenay had a few last-minute rules for us so we weren’t rude tourists though and most seemed obvious but good reminders since we were all excited.
Ask before taking pictures. Izzy was already doing that.
Don’t just touch whatever as the displays take them a while to set up.
If there are lines, there are normally tickets like at deli counters so find them.
Not every vendor was honest and could spot tourists a mile away so don’t believe them all and listen to the local guides she brought with us. Not everything was fresh caught or local delicacies they pushed of their wares.
And finally, it wasn’t a museum, so buy stuff or move on so we didn’t impede their chance for other sales.
Easy enough, right? All logical and common sense.
Then again, common sense wasn’t always so common.
The next issue was this was the first time we were doing this, and no one had a clue what was what. We came back out to the main entrance to play tourist, standing in front of a sweet stall to start with. Which of course meant I wanted to purchase something, well, lots of everything.
Great, that was going to be provided for me.
Except I wanted to buy gifts for the hobgoblin kids and my friends. And Irma was going to do some shopping. And we were going to get lots for the fae dogs.
I sighed when too many people went back and forth, finally jumping in before everyone just fought and annoyed me to the point I’d get grumpy. “Enough! I’ll buy my own gifts. I’ll cover Irma’s purchases for my kitchen and the bakery and catering we’re opening. That’s still in testing and secret stuff. Any purchases to help cover costs for the havens or my garbage disposals are included in our deal. Good?”
“Along with anything eaten on location today by you or your party along with any treats you wish to take with you for yourself,” Mrs. Courtenay added after several moments of everyone quietly debating that over.
“Done,” I agreed.
“Before we begin, I need several people to hand over what they’re hiding on them,” Professor White said firmly, holding out a leather satchel that I saw had runes all on the inside of it. I would bet anything it was like the magical safe thing she put in my closet at school to hide my extra reservoirs that were coming soon. “And if any of you try this again, we will pull the plug as you risk her safety.”
Steam about came out of Mrs. Courtenay’s ears as several people grimaced and pulled out boxes that clearly held crystals… One of whom was Mr. Courtenay. Oh, ouch. Someone was in trouble when they got home later.
The comical one was Juan, who didn’t seem to know he had any on him. He cursed under his breath and said his mother gave him something to take back to school later. He dug in his bag and found them, apologizing to me as he handed them over.
Everyone on my side was furious.
“You could have killed her,” Professor White lectured. “You’re lucky she doesn’t cut ties with all of you. And you’re all idiots. If you thought to cheat or just check to see if she could do more, of course others would as well. No more. We agreed three hundred each time for now as she is young and just learned she could do this weeks ago. There are thousands extra here. Shame on you all.”
“So much for the bullshit of protecting me if you can get more out of me, huh?” I bitched, not hiding the hurt in my tone. “Do it again and I’ll do this on my own and just sell them for the full price I’m told they’re worth.” I didn’t even feel better when I saw people wince. Yeah, even if they were going spend a ton on me for the outing it wasn’t thirty million dollars, which those crystals would be worth.
Assholes.
I turned away from everyone and focused on the stall, slapping on a smile for the person working there who was watching us with way too much interest. I asked how I started shopping and luckily they didn’t speak enough English to understand me. Good, so they didn’t catch enough of our conversation… Or so I hoped.
Whatever, someone else could worry on that.
“What would the kids like?” I asked Irma, wanting to focus on that so maybe I could start recovering my mood or there wouldn’t be much point in the outing at all.
Each of them had favorites that she he
lped me select but also what she thought they’d like to try. Then I added what I knew Natalie and my other friends would like before finally focusing on myself.
That’s when things got really dangerous.
“We can come back,” Darby teased me.
“It’s been a pretty rough semester already and now I’m feeling spiteful,” I admitted. “Kinda gotta turn the mood around and the promise of having a huge stockpile of everything nummy for a while might help. Maybe.” I shrugged, knowing I was pouting, but I felt all the eyes on me now too. Someone was probably watching the crystals and I felt like a monkey people wanted to dance for them.
He hummed his acceptance before turning away. I kept checking things out and using the tongs to add what I wanted to my bag. He came back a few moments later and tapped my shoulder.
“Try this with me, agra?” he murmured as he held up some sort of filled gummy rope. He moved it to my lips and once I opened for him, he put the other end in his mouth, smirking at me.
I rolled my eyes. He wanted to Lady and the Tramp candy? Really? In a crowded place like this with all these people?
He snorted when I tried to call him a prickly pear around the gummy, probably knowing what I was saying but we kept eating until our lips met. He gave me another kiss just for good measure. “Thanks for coming on a date like this with me.”
“It’s like that?”
“I think so,” he said after a moment.
“Okay then.”
“Good.”
After a bit longer, we all paid and next was actually a stall owned by the first one that Irma was interested in because they had a wide array of cooking oils. She stopped with Craftsman, but we moved on since he had money of mine that had been converted into Euros.
“Do not touch,” one of the guides reminded me at the next stall.
I froze in my reaching for the tomato. “Right, yeah, but how do I pick produce to buy if I can’t touch it? This isn’t a fancy, fancy display, but normal ones at a farmer’s market or a store.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know you would shop produce for dogs,” she muttered, giving me a confused look.