The Life and Medieval Times of Kit Sweetly

by Jamie Pacton

  Kit: Nothing? Really. Okay. Dammit. Friends. TALK TO ME.

  Kit: Still nothing. Alright. Whatever. See you all at work tomorrow.

  41

  I WAKE UP AT 6:00 A.M., ON FRIDAY–THE DAY WE’RE SUPPOSED to all be riding out together and two weeks after I first took Chris’s place as the Red Knight. My phone’s in my hand. And I keep refreshing the group text chain. As if staring at it would make my friends reply, saying they’re not angry. My fingers hover, wanting to type something—anything—to make my friends forgive me. But what can I say? Clearly I’ve messed up. Badly.

  I have to send something. Even though it’s super early.

  Kit: Hello? Anybody there? Can we at least talk about this?

  It’s a pathetic attempt, but at least I tried. Hauling myself out of bed, I go make coffee. Maybe my friends are still asleep. Maybe someone will write back soon.

  By 7:30, when I should be leaving for school, there are still no replies.

  A gnawing pang shoots through my stomach, which could be from the three cups of coffee I’ve just slammed, but it feels a whole lot like something else. Something sadder and lonelier.

  Even Layla still isn’t speaking to me. Which is like our longest argument in a decade of friendship. Deciding I can’t face her, Alex, and Lizzy at school (again, perks of being a senior), I spend the day bingeing the entire The Lord of the Rings trilogy extended edition (we only make it halfway through Two Towers) with Chris and feeling sorry for myself.

  By the time my alarm goes off, telling me it’s time to get ready for work, I’m no less motivated. I roll off the couch and flop onto the living room floor.

  “I’m not even sure why I’m going tonight,” I say with a moan. “I mean, I can’t go to Marquette no matter what, so why do I need the promotion to knighthood? And Mom is going to move into a cheaper place soon, so we won’t need so much money for the house. And my friends aren’t talking to me. Remind me why I need this crappy job anyway?”

  “Fool of a Took!” says Chris, sitting up to look at me. He pulls his gray sweatshirt hood up over his head. “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

  I snort. “You don’t get to use Gandalf quotes to boss me around.”

  “Even the wise cannot see all ends.” Chris nods sagely.

  “Stop! You’re not even doing a good imitation.”

  He throws a pillow at me. “I did not pass through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!”

  I roll my eyes and sit up. “Fine. Fine! I’m going.”

  “Fly, you fool!”

  Laughing, I haul myself to my feet. Before I can leave the living room, there’s a knock at the front door. I shoot Chris a look, but he just shrugs.

  “Coming,” I holler as I pound down the steps to the front door. I fling it open and my jaw drops.

  Jett stands there, holding a shopping bag and a cup of coffee. He’s in his work clothes, with his leather jacket over them.

  Suddenly, I’m aware I’m wearing a ratty pair of leggings and a tight “A Girl Has No Name” Game of Thrones T-shirt with a coffee stain on it. My hair is in two messy braids, and I can’t guarantee I don’t have lettuce in my teeth from lunch.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  Jett smiles his easy, familiar smile. It’s like coming home to see it. “I brought you coffee. And a Silver Knight’s costume rushed direct from Amazon. I figured you needed your own color, since you’re redefining things at the Castle.”

  “Wonderful man.” I take the coffee with one hand, longing to put the other hand on his cheek.

  “That’s not all.” He grabs my hand. “C’mon. I’m giving you a ride to work.”

  “But I have to change,” I say, gesturing at my leggings and T-shirt.

  “Nope,” says Chris, hobbling down the stairs behind me. Somehow he has my purse and phone in his hand. “You’re good like that.”

  He and Jett smile at each other. I narrow my eyes at them both.

  “What’s going on here? Are you two conspiring against me?”

  “Conspiring for you would be more accurate,” says Jett. “Let’s go.”

  “No clues? No hints?”

  “Nope,” says Chris. “Just get in the van, and you’ll see.”

  “It’s never good when someone tells you to get into a van.” I side eye them both.

  “Trust us, it’s a good thing,” says Jett with a laugh as he helps Chris into the passenger seat.

  I’m not convinced, but I take my stuff from Chris and clamber into the back of the minivan. Taking a long swig of my coffee (vanilla latte with almond milk, bless you, Jett), I try to steel myself for whatever they have planned.

  JETT AND CHRIS LEAD ME INTO THE CASTLE, BUT WE SKIP the break room and our usual haunts. It’s still early enough that most of the hallways are empty. Soon, it will be full of the hum and roar of the crowd, but for now the only sounds that fill the halls are horses whinnying and some pre-cooking clatter from the kitchen.

  I check my phone. “We’re like an hour early,” I say. “Did you mess with my alarm, Chris?”

  “Maybe?” he says, limping along beside me. He shrugs and throws another Gandalf quote my way: “A wizard is never late. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.”

  Jett snickers beside me and bumps my shoulder with his. It seems we’re back to casual BFF contact and there’s no lingering weirdness from me trying to kiss him two days ago. At least that’s how it feels to me. Who even knows what Jett’s feeling when it comes to all that?

  “What’s going on?” I ask as Jett pushes the door of the Upper Banquet Hall open. Chris limps in before me, and I follow him.

  The room is empty except for a round banquet table covered with a white tablecloth. Seven chairs sit around it. In front of the table is a projection screen.

  “Welcome to the Round Table,” says Jett. “Take a seat. We’ll start soon.”

  “Start what?” I ask.

  “You’ll see,” he says. He takes his laptop out of his bag along with some wires and cameras and other technical-looking things.

  I sit down in the closest seat and Chris plops in a chair across the table from me, typing something on his phone.

  “Seriously, Chris. What’s going on?” I ask. “And I swear if you answer with a Gandalf quote, we’re not related anymore.”

  Before he can say anything, Layla and Alex walk into the room. I give them a little wave. Layla smiles at me—which warms my heart to its lonely, feeling-abandoned-by-my-friends core. Alex just quirks an eyebrow, taking in the room, the screen, Jett fiddling with the tech stuff, Chris, and me.

  “What’s going on here?” asks Alex, their voice suspicious. “I got a text from Jett that there was something important happening and I had to be here early.”

  “It is important,” Jett calls out. “Have a seat at the Round Table. You’ll see when the others get here.”

  “Round Table?” Alex grumbles and rolls their eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Layla asks, sliding into the seat next to me.

  “I have no idea,” I say. “They basically kidnapped me to get me here.”

  “I’m sorry not to have texted you back,” says Layla. “I just needed some time to think. And then Maura and I went out last night.” She giggles as she says it, and I smile at her.

  “I missed you. And I’m sorry. Like really, really sorry.”

  “I missed you too,” she says. “And I’ve got LOTS to tell you all about what happened with Maura.”

  Across the table, Alex rolls their eyes. “You two have been mad at each other for like a day.”

  “Two days,” I correct them. “A very long two days. Are you still mad too?”

  In answer, Alex crosses their arms and looks away.

  Okay, then.

  A moment later, Mags, Lizzy, and Penny walk into the room, talking together. Mags looks like a punk rock mermaid with her hair striped dark blue, purple, teal, and green. />
  “What’s up?” Penny asks, holding up her phone. “Chris has been blowing up my phone all day.”

  “Everyone, sit, please,” says Jett. “Take a seat at the Round Table, where all are equal, and give me ten minutes of your time.”

  Mags makes an irritated noise, but she sits next to Alex. She doesn’t look at me, though Lizzy gives me a small smile.

  Jett continues: “Not long ago, I started making what might be the greatest documentary of my career. It started with a video of Kit fighting as the Red Knight, recorded on my phone during what I thought was an ordinary shift at the Castle. But as I worked with you all, it became about so much more than Kit, or her quest for knighthood, or all your hard work in training. It’s almost done, and what’s emerged is a portrait of friendship and fierceness that go beyond these walls. I’ve gathered you here to show you what magic you make together. And hopefully to convince you all to fight tonight, so I can finish the film and Kit can finish her plan. And we can all change things here.”

  Sweet, wonderful, thoughtful, miraculous Jett. I smile at him, resisting every urge to jump up and kiss my thanks. He winks at me, sending my heart ping-ponging in my chest.

  “I’ve got to be on the floor in fifteen minutes,” says Penny, irritably.

  “And I’ve got to be taking guest pictures by then for the first show,” adds Alex.

  “Give me eight minutes,” says Jett. “You won’t regret it.”

  “Fine,” says Alex. “You have eight minutes.”

  Jett walks back to the projector, squeezing my shoulder as he passes. Layla pokes me in the ribs once he’s past, raising an eyebrow.

  “Later,” I whisper. She grins.

  Jett turns off the lights, and his documentary comes on the screen. It starts with fanfare and then I ride into the arena. He’s slowed it down, so my horse gallops dramatically.

  “Once there was one Girl Knight.” His voice-over comes on as my first video rolls through, now playing at normal speed. “And her struggles inspired people to dream of more.” He’s interspersed comments from the website with pictures of little girls in knight costumes and kids reenacting my video.

  “She had a goal; she had a plan—a four-phase plan at that—but it wasn’t enough. Only when the Girl Knight found other Knights to accompany her on this quest was it really underway.”

  Here Jett’s created a gorgeous montage of our training—Lizzy trying the complicated roll off the horse for the first time; Mags and I sparring with training swords and laughing together as we trip over our feet; Penny catching a ring with her garden-rake lance; Layla and Alex jousting with pool noodles in the laundromat; and much, much more.

  “It’s definitely time for a change at the Castle,” says Alex, as the camera focuses on them for a one-on-one shot during our last training session. They wipe sweat out of their eyes. “I’ve wanted to be a Knight since I started working at the Castle, but it’s never been an option for me. Kit and the rest of us have been tirelessly pursuing this goal, and I think we’re really going to change things around here.”

  Layla comes on next, riding her horse right up to the camera: “Why do I want to do this? Because I’m good at it! And it’s fun!” She rides off with a laugh, skillfully taking the horse through a series of obstacles.

  Jett’s interviewed each of us in turn, and there are laughs and cheers for each person’s interview.

  Then my face comes on the screen. Off-screen, Jett asks, “Why are you fighting so hard, Kit? What is this really about?”

  I know my answer by heart because it ran through my head a dozen times last night as I waited for my friends to text me back.

  I look right at the camera: “This is about my friends and me getting a chance to be ourselves. It’s about fighting against inequality and showing the world that gender shouldn’t be a bar for any job these days. And it’s about taking a battering ram to the notion that the heroes of the Middle Ages were all men.”

  “Do you think you’ll succeed?” Jett asks.

  “I know it,” I say into the camera. A smile lights my face. “With friends like these at my side, there’s no chance we can fail.”

  The film stops there, carried off by some dramatic music. Jett flicks the lights on.

  “Oh, Kit,” says Penny, tossing a balled-up tissue at me. “You big dork. You made me cry.”

  I’m crying too. Layla wraps me in a hug. I lean my head on her shoulder.

  “You’re right,” she says. “We can do this together.”

  “And we should,” says Mags. “I’m with you if you still want to run the tournament, like you said in your text chain.”

  “Me too,” says Lizzy. “And I’m sorry for getting mad, Kit. I know you didn’t mean to hurt us.”

  “Group-hug time,” says Alex, standing up. Everyone surrounds me, pulling me into a large, sniffly hug. Over my shoulder, I see Jett filming it all and Chris grinning at me.

  “Thank you,” I mouth to them. Jett smiles again, and I have a sudden image of us kissing for a very long time next time we’re alone together.

  Clearly, I’m ready to be more than friends. But why did Jett do all this? Is it because he’s just the world’s best guy friend? Or does it mean more? I thought I’d ruined everything by breaking the rules. But the time and care he’s put into this video is more than friendly. Isn’t it?

  Before I have time to think through the Gordian knot of Jett and me, another phone alarm goes off—not mine this time—and Chris grabs his phone. “I hate to break this up,” he says. “But it’s time to get dressed for the show.”

  “Are you ready, Knights?” I ask the circle of amazing friends around me.

  “We’re with you, Girl Knight,” says Layla.

  “Until death, victory, or at least the end of the show,” says Mags with a sly smile.

  42

  TONIGHT THERE’S ONLY ONE SHOW AT THE CASTLE.

  Normally we have two every day, but Len combined them into one evening show so the Corporate folks would have time to look around and so we could really fill the seats.

  Not that we’d have any problem doing that based on how crowded the lobby is.

  “Good thing you invited half of Chicago to this show,” whispers Jett as we thread our way through the growing crowd.

  I grin at him. I’ve been flouting rules for weeks now. Maybe I can convince him that our Unbreakable Rules are really worth breaking. “Let’s talk after the show, okay? About that video and—”

  A hand grabs my arm, pulling me away from Jett. “Hi, Kit!” says Isabel, the production assistant from Good Morning, Chicago! She stands with an older woman and an adorable little girl, who wears a knight’s tunic and has her long dark hair braided into a crown around her head.

  “I’m so glad you made it!” I say. “Who’d you bring to the show tonight?”

  “This is my mother, and this is my niece, Sofia,” says Isabel, smiling as she points to them. “Thanks for putting those tickets aside for us.”

  Sofia brandishes a light-up sword. “When are you going to ride? Where are the horses? Can I be a knight when I grow up?”

  “Soon. The horses are in the back, getting ready for the show. And you can most definitely be a knight when you grow up. Keep your eyes on the arena. We’ve got a big surprise planned tonight.”

  Layla, Alex, and Mags wave to her, and Sofia’s eyes widen.

  “If you have time,” says Isabel, “maybe we can grab a quick interview after the show? Bettina wanted a follow-up, so we’ll be filming tonight.”

  “You got permission to film?” I ask skeptically.

  Isabel points toward a cameraman standing at the edge of the Great Hall, filming the crowd. “Your boss seemed quite keen, in fact. He said you’ll be riding out with the male Knights as part of a special exhibition.”

  “He’s got part of it right. But we’ve got a bit more planned. See you after the show!”

  “Go, Girl Knight!” shouts Sofia.

  I wave to her, and Jett
and I keep walking. We stroll right past Len, who’s too busy kissing up to the Corporate folks—two women and a young guy, all of them in nice suits and carrying clipboards—to notice us.

  “We’re really into changing our image here,” says one of the women.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” says Len, chuckling. “Time to take this place out of the Middle Ages and move it into the twenty-first century. I have a special surprise planned for you tonight. Our very own Girl Knight is going to ride out with the other Knights for the first part of the show.”

  The two women exchange a wary look. I roll my eyes with them. They’re certainly going to get more of a show than that.

  Chris, walking with the help of Penny’s arm, leads us away from the crowd and to the Knights’ locker room.

  “Are we supposed to go in there?” asks Lizzy doubtfully. “I don’t think they’re going to just welcome us.”

  “Think again,” says Chris.

  Penny pushes the door open and we follow her into what looks a lot like a normal locker room, except for the colorful heraldic banners that divide the room into each knight’s section. The last time I was in here, when I first fought as the Red Knight, I was in too much of a hurry to pay attention to details. Now, I take it all in. Costumes hang from racks, and there’s an entire wall of weapons. Of course, there’s also a lingering smell that’s a combo of BO and horses, and the showers look suspiciously like those in the high school gym locker room.