“Dealers deal cards,” said Ophelia, thinking aloud.
“And it’s someone we have to deal with,” Trey added.
“It’s perfect,” I said darkly. “The Dealer.” Oh, this crap just became real.
“The Dealer it is,” said Doctor Tenly gleefully. “Now I—why is Maile sitting on my armadillo?”
Squinting in Doctor Tenly’s general direction, Maile said, “I’m sitting on an armadillo?”
“Uh, maybe because you haven’t helped correct her day vision issues,” I said, answering the doctor.
“Ah! That’s what I’ve been forgetting!” Doctor Tenly made a mental note—literally. Tracing words on his forehead, Doctor Tenly said, “I’ll have something for her by the opening ceremony. Wouldn’t want her to miss the spectacle.”
“Because I’m sure she’s just dying to see our butts branded with a type of slap-yourself-silly stress that was sure to make us all want ice bags, barf bags, ibuprofen, and, uh, some of that aged root beer,” I said.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Doctor Tenly.
We all laughed, apart from Gully, who, like clockwork, said, “Um, what does that mean exactly?”
Morning of the Opening Ceremony. Well, the sandman delivered last night. Although, I could’ve done without all the bizarre dreams and nightmares involving crabmeat being shoved down my throat by The Dealer…who had the face of my boyfriend. Damn Jex for putting the ridiculous idea of Troy—EX-Deliverer—being The Dealer in my head. Still, was it really that much of a stretch? The only time I caught a glimpse of Troy’s inner demon was on the beach the night I stole the stone from Zale’s mansion. Though only a brief flash, his inner demon clearly drowned out any part of the man I fell in love with; it was as though Troy disappeared entirely. Could his inner demon be making lengthy guest appearances, buying enough time to leave notes and plan a murder? I shook my head as hard as possible. I refuse to entertain the notion any longer.
Clipping back my rat’s nest of a mane, I crawled out of bed and ventured into the kitchen, where the smell of freshly baked goodness made me think it was Christmastime. Mom looked like she had been baking all night.
“Did you all-nighter it?” I asked.
Wiping powdered sugar off her nose and cheek, she said, “Sure did. Have a surprise for you. Took Tree all night to help me get it ready. She just left, actually.”
“Tree was here?”
“She was back and forth all night and morning,” said Mom, using disinfecting wipes on the counters.
“What are you two up to?”
Rounding the counter, Mom tweaked my nose. “I told you, it’s a surprise.” Mom’s mischievous grin vanished and she started swaying. “Ooh.”
“Mom! Come on. Couch.” Guiding her to the living room and helping her onto the couch, I carefully studied her face. There was alarm in her eyes.
Noticing my quizzical gaze, she patted my hand reassuringly. “I’m fine, baby girl. Just haven’t stayed up until dawn’s early crack since my college days.”
“Why don’t you go rest,” I suggested. “We still have hours.”
“I couldn’t possibly sleep! Too wired. Your team and coach will pick you up, right?”
“Yep, on the beach. Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you maybe wait with me? I know Mr. Gibbs is taking you, but…” Yep, I’m a seventeen-year-old high school senior who wants her mommy to hold her hand until the last possible minute. What of it? Just because I’m the Savior doesn’t mean I have to be brave and all. Oh. Wait. Um…
“Of course, my sweetheart. No place I’d rather be.” She kissed me on my forehead and started humming Deep Purple Dreamers, my great-grandfather’s song. It was the safest I’ve felt in a long time.
Nearly three o’clock, Overfalls Opening Ceremony time. Mr. Gibbs and Mom waited with me on the beach for my teammates to arrive. When they did, I noticed some green faces and troubled eyes; my stomach felt the way they looked, which meant I had the gag-face to match. Mom hugged me about a trillion times before Mr. Gibbs coaxed her to his car. With silent nods and meek smiles, we made our way down the beach. We heard the cheers ahead, yet the world never sounded so quiet.
The closer we got to the library, the more spectacular the sight. Before us stood an enormous three-tiered stadium in the shape of a horseshoe. The exterior sparkled like prisms, sending beautiful beams of color in every direction. Jex quietly led us inside. Apart from a few stragglers, almost everyone was already seated. Good thing, too, because it gave us plenty of time and space to marvel over all the shops and eateries.
In Fanmerk’s Ultimate Fan Shop, fans could buy tees with event-specific phrases, such as Fall Over the Overfalls, Tails vs. Toes, and First Ever Overfalls…Probably the Last. A dark, narrow shop called Bloody Bunions had a sign repeatedly announcing, “Closed until after the first match. Stop by afterwards for all authentic Overfalls’ memorabilia, including bloody weapons, severed body parts, ripped flesh, fin scales, hair chunks, teeth, and much more!” There were tons of food stands offering a range of raw fishy foods, blood cups in every type (presumably for the vampires), rare steaks (for werewolves, most likely), and flavored sugar thimbles for pixies. Unfortunately, I saw nothing for Normals.
As we passed Claude’s Claws, specializing in raw crab claws, the smell went straight up my nose and to my throat. It was especially unfortunate that an adorable elderly couple walked by me, smiling…just as I gagged…in their faces. The poor woman flinched in fear, while her sweet husband looked completely offended.
“Oh—GAG—no—GAG—I’m so sorry,” I croaked.
“Oooh, hello Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpinch!” said Treeva, sweeping in between us. “This is Miss Marina Valentine, captain of team Normals. She, uh, just has a tiny intolerance when it comes to raw fish, especially crab.”
“Or just fish in general,” I said in the midst of a gag.
“Well, aren’t you an interesting Normal,” said Mrs. Fitzpinch, studying my eyes. “The Savior, too, so I hear.”
“Yes, I’m the Savior, or I’m trying to be,” I said, feeling like an incapable idiot.
“Don’t worry, dear, you’ll do just fine,” said Mr. Fitzpinch, while his wife grinned like Mrs. Claus.
“And we should know,” she said. “We’ve waited a long time for you.”
“Better scoot to our seats, my dear,” said Mr. Fitzpinch. “We just had to come back down and try some authentic New Orleans beignets from The Cakey Corner. Bye now, and good luck!”
As they shuffled off, I said, “Beignets? The Cakey Corner?”
Treeva spun me around to face a pink and yellow booth with a sign overhead that read, Camille’s Cakey Corner, Treats for Feet & Fins alike! My mom was behind the counter, singing and waving.
“Baby girl! Surprise!”
“Mom? How? I mean…how?”
“Treeva set it up and even sponsored me. With a member of the royal family backing me, enemies stay quiet and others actually take chances and buy,” said Mom, beaming.
“You mean merps are finally removing their heads from their fins and buying the goodness?” I squealed.
“Well, some have, but most of my patrons are tourists. Do you know, I think I served my very first vampire! Mark it down—they have a sweet fang. Still, I’ve been so busy, I had to enlist help!”
“I don’t see anyone,” said Ophelia.
“What? Where on earth?” Mom peeked over a prep space behind her and gave a little exasperated sigh. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Come on! Meet and greet, here!”
Mr. Gibbs, wearing a lacy pink apron, emerged from behind a tall, silver table, his face covered in powder and dough bits.
Jex and Polly didn’t even try to hide their amusement, unlike the rest of us.
“Look who’s the whipped one,” said Jex, his wings smacking together.
“Why, Mr. Gibbs, you look so…so…”stuttered Gully.
“Dumb,” supplied Polly, clutching her side.
/> Mr. Gibbs crossed his arms. “Thank you for your assessment, Miss Purdue. Tell me, how is that essay coming along?”
Polly’s face fell. “I get you.”
“Excellent,” he said.
He really did look absurd, but since he donned the silliness for my mama, I found him flipping adorable. “Personally, I think going against the male standards and embracing your inner femininity is pretty awesome.”
“Thank you, Marina,” said Mr. Gibbs. “But I think Polly’s evaluation was spot on.”
“Does that mean I get a cookie?” asked Polly. “I really want a cookie. That cookie.” She pointed to a sugar cookie with pink icing.
“No junk food,” said Jex.
Slowly rotating to face our coach, Polly growled, “I really do hate you.”
Jex smirked. “The feeling is more mutual than you could possibly know. And the answer is still no. We need to get to our tunnel for team intros.”
“We’ll be watching and cheering, peanut,” said Mom.
“Love you, Mom. Bye, Tree.” Giving her a hug, I whispered in her ear, “Thank you. She’s never been so happy in a job.”
“I’m not that innocent,” said Treeva. “I had ulterior motives. I’m the official taste-tester.”
“Hey, where’d that pink cookie go?” asked Gully. “It’s gone. Ooh, maybe a pixie scooped it up! Hmm. But it would take a swarm of pixies, wouldn’t it, seeing as the cookie is too big for one pixie carry on her own.” Gully was totally in her own world of la-la.
Jex raised an eyebrow. Peering at Polly over his shoulder, he exhaled in dramatic fashion. Polly’s cheeks were as full as a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter. Polly tried to smile, and Mom stared innocently at the ceiling, whistling. I heard a subtle crunching sound behind me and felt Trey nudge my arm. In his hand was a chocolate chip cookie.
“Aw, you have to be tugging my feathers,” said Jex, slapping his hands against his legs. All of team Normals had cookie-cheeks and uh-oh eyes. “Can you believe this, Savior?”
Unfortunately, it was at that moment I shoved the cookie in my mouth. Chewing with his ticked off eyes on me wasn’t the most comfortable situation. He shook his head reprovingly.
Swallowing hard, I said, “Hey, we’re about to go out there and get our butts booed off. I think that warrants a cookie treat.”
“Come on, Jex, cut them some slack,” said Treeva, stroking his wing. “One cookie won’t hurt their conditioning.”
Just as she said ‘one cookie,’ a loud crunch drew our coach’s attention away from the sexy mer-princess, a.k.a. our buffer. Polly had another cookie protruding from her mouth.
With a completely straight face, she removed the cookie. “The demons made me do it.”
“That’s it. Come on, move along, go.” Jex ushered us away from Mom.
We waved goodbye, thanked her for the cookies, and followed Jex, whose feathers were ruffling over and over again. Once at the end of the loop-around, we found the entrance to our tunnel. Walking through the tunnel with its sea-themed walls and tiny lights, my heart started beating so hard, I actually felt lightheaded.
“Stop here,” said Jex, blocking us from going any farther. “They’ll announce the merfolk first, then us. Our bench is that pom-pom sofa to the right of the field; theirs is the gel bench to the left. We got the comfy seats.”
Peering around Jex’s extended arm, I saw two inventive seating arrangements. The Merpeople’s bubble-filled bench looked like it was made from a bar of purple and blue soap. Team Normals actually had an awesome sofa covered in colorful bundles of fluff. The stadium itself was larger than I thought, and the partial roof acted as an awning, covering nearly all of the stadium seats. Straight ahead, at the opposite end of the field, I could just make out team Merpeople’s tunnel; it was right next to a large band decked out in purple and gold uniforms. My vision might be playing tricks on me, but I swear the band members have angel wings.
“Like the band, Gully?” asked Jex before I could quiz him on their wings.
Bouncing on her heels, Gully squealed, “Did YOU get them here?”
“Pulled a few strings or, more accurately, feathers,” he replied.
“Are they angels?” I asked.
Jex smiled and bowed his head. “One hundred percent angel. They’re former band members who still energize their cul-de-sac in heaven with the sounds they helped make famous every fall.”
“They’re awesome…just awesome,” I said.
“Thank you, Jex!” Gully threw her arms around our coach and squeezed until a feather fell off. “And you even got them to play, despite Madame Helena!”
“When heaven loans its angels, there’s not much a stuffy bitch can do about it,” said Jex.
Speaking of the stuffy bitch, Madame Helena, dressed in a lace green gown with an extraordinarily long silver train, sauntered across a glossy, curvy stage set near the band. Doctor Tenly followed her, playfully kicking her train from side to side, much to the joy of the crowd. Even when disguised as our bedraggled Principal Jeepers, Doctor Tenly was clad in his usual kookiness, this time in the form of a silver satin suit.
“What the hell is he wearing?” asked Trey.
“Doctor T’s finest, I would assume,” I said, laughing, as he danced like a Broadway star across the stage during the band’s seriously awesome rendition of an upbeat Big Band classic.
“Treeva probably finds that sexy,” Jex grumbled.
“No question,” I said. “And so does the crowd. Listen to them! They love him!”
“He’s such a cool principal. I wish we could hang out with him more often,” said Gully.
“You already do,” said Polly, frustrated. “We all do. All the time.”
“But not when he looks like that,” Gully said wistfully.
“Absolutely mind-boggling,” said Polly. “She hurts the hair on my arms, I swear to you.”
I gave Polly a little squeeze. “She’s just in a happy world of her own most of the time, Polls. We could probably all take a note.” Polly just snarled and sighed.
Standing before a sea glass microphone, Madame Helena held her arms up to the crowd. “Welcome! Welcome, everyone! With a blow of the ceremonial conch, we will have the official start of the first ever opening ceremony for the Overfalls!” The crowd went absolutely wild, waving flags, cheering, and blowing smaller versions of the event conch.
Our principal stepped up to the front of the stage, held the conch to his lips, and blew. With bursts of fireworks shooting up from all angles of the stadium, the crowd’s enthusiasm was both deafening and contagious.
Madame Helena clapped her gloved hands. “Thank you Principal Jeepers! Now that we’re all ready to start the show, let’s meet our teams!”
“Jex,” I said, “where’s Luxton Vipor? Think I see Anderson sitting down. Vipor is the only one missing.”
Jex cleared his throat, coughed, and shrugged. “Probably some Imperia meeting.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.
“Nothing, Lord, you’re a suspicious sort, aren’t you?”
“Wonder why,” I groaned.
“From the depths of our sea to the sands of land, everyone please welcome your team…the Merpeople!” shouted Madame Helena.
Waving to the roaring crowd, team Merpeople followed their coach across the sandy field.
“Are they wearing uniforms?” shouted Polly.
“Looks like it,” said Jex. “S.O.B.’s didn’t send me that memo.”
Their uniforms were comprised of grey pants, ultramarine-blue tops, and purple and grey jackets with golden fins embroidered on the left side. Truthfully, their uniforms looked really nice, and I was a bit embarrassed to walk out in front of everyone like a group of mismatching misfits.
“Their malfunctions made them outlaws; their behavior banished them. Away from the mainland they had to go, and here they landed. Team Normals, step forth and take your place,” said Madame Helena with zero enthusiasm.
“Bitch,” growled Meikle. “One day. One damn day.”
I took a deep breath as Jex led the way. Just as we had the night of the wish ceremony, we walked across the field arm in arm. The crowd didn’t boo, much to my surprise. Actually, they didn’t do much of anything. It was a sarcastic silence. Oh, well. Their silence only accentuated the claps and cheers from Mom, Mr. Gibbs, Maile, and Mrs. Waterberry. Waving at them, I thought I saw Maile wearing a strange pair of purple, pink, and teal glasses with long, glowing fiber optic strands sticking out of the sides.
Taking our seats, I glanced across the field to find Troy; his gentle eyes were already firmly set on me. He’ll never know how calm and safe he makes me feel…unless he’s The Dealer, whispered my inner jackass.
“Well, he’s not, so shut the eff up.” Oops. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah,” said Jex. “You cracking up, or is it just part of your usual abnormal-ness?”
“It’s on par with her usual nuttiness,” offered Polly. For once, I’m glad her social ineptness kicked in when it did.
“What Polls said.” I really must try not to be so introspective and analytical, especially now that I’m actually conversing with my inner self aloud. Needing to remove the freaked look from Jex’s face, I quickly changed the subject. “I hope Maile can see.”
“Didn’t you know?” said Ophelia. “The doctor made her some glasses. She can see in daylight with them.”
“I thought I saw her sporting some! That’s amazing! Go Doc!” I said.
“Yeah, wait until you see them,” said Trey.
“Bad?” I said.
“Worse,” said Jex.
“Worse than worse,” added Meikle. “Oh, Christ, Ham-lena’s starting to talk again. I hate having to hear that bitch’s voice.”
“Let us also give a rousing welcome to visiting members of the royal families,” said Madame Helena, gesturing to a luxury suite at the very top of the stadium. “Princess Treeva Tombolo and Prince Kyle Zale!” Treeva and Kyle stood and bowed to the crowd, much to their delight. “Before we begin, team Normals, where are your uniforms?”
A Fairhair child rushed forward with a microphone for Jex. “If you please, we never received notice that uniforms were a necessity for today’s festivities.”
OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2) Page 18