by SJ Cavaletti
The dark fairy. She rode up on her bike, parked it and went into a tent. When she bent over to duck inside, her tiny butt seemed to say hello from underneath a lacy bustle.
I got up, without a word, Jasmine, Koa and El still trying to read the flames as I had.
I told myself the Jaeger made me do it, but I’m pretty sure that butt drew me to her tent flap, trying to figure out a way to knock on a nylon door. I considered letting out a whistle, or an owl-like hoot, but settled on, “Hey, is that you in there, Maeve?”
She paused long enough for me to know, even with my dulled, slightly drunk senses, that she considered pretending she wasn’t in.
I guilted her out. “I just thought I might give you a second chance to be nice to me.”
Another pause, but only a split second.
“Drake?”
“There’s one way to find out. Want to come and sit with us by the fire?”
“Not really, I’m tired.”
“It’s only like, maybe seven o’clock or something. Were you up all night?”
“No.”
I had to admit. Her not coming out made me want it even more. This girl was the queen of playing hard to get. It made her even more mysterious. And who doesn’t want to solve a mystery?
“Come out and have a shot with us. Meet my girl, Jasmine.”
I didn’t know why I tried so hard. Maybe it was that for once there was resistance. Even though I was a nobody everywhere else, in Seattle, I had enough fans to not have to put in any effort with the ladies. Maybe it was because of this that I got bored and hadn’t been with anyone for months. Many, many months. I missed the chase.
I might have been rusty with chat up lines, not having to actually woo for years, but if there was one thing that seemed to neutralize the situation for every woman, even better than a puppy, was a dude having another woman in their life that trusts them. Mentioning Jasmine might do the trick.
The zip whizzed around and out popped her pixie-like face. She had on very little makeup, apart from blood-red lipstick, but her dark full eyebrows and thick lashes gave a natural frame to her huge haunting eyes. She looked young. And even younger when she slid her tiny body out of the tent flap and stood next to me, her face at least a foot below mine. She really was a little fairy.
“Are you old enough to be here on your own?” I asked.
“Yes. And what makes you think I’m here alone?”
“That tent. You said you aren’t a first timer and I don’t know any Gypsies that would share a space that small.”
“Well, I’m not on my own. Obviously I belong to this camp.”
I wasn’t sure, but I sensed her crumpling.
“Of course,” I challenged, “You headed into the dome tonight?”
I didn’t think ice could form in the desert. But Maeve made it happen.
“No. Never in a million years.”
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t inviting you or anything. It’s not my thing either.”
She melted slightly.
“Come over to the fire. We’re waiting for a couple friends who’re in the dome.”
Because suddenly I wasn’t going back to the motorhome.
She followed me over to Koa, Jasmine and El, whose eyes met mine as I approached. He nodded his head as a query and I lifted my eyebrows. Yes. It was the woman he met last night. Jasmine looked instantly happy.
“Hey guys,” I said, “This is Maeve. Maeve, Jasmine… Koa. You remember El?”
Koa got out of his seat and gestured for Maeve to sit.
“Oh, no. Please don’t give up your seat. I’ll only be here for a minute. I’m strung out from today,” she said. “Exhausted.”
She put her hand up to her forehead in such a dramatic gesture I only believed the opposite.
Koa remained standing. And because I didn’t take a seat, Jasmine and El stood, too.
“So where are you from?” Jasmine asked, moving around closer to Maeve’s side of the fire.
“I’m just from L.A. Not far.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to L.A.,” Jasmine said, “Skateboard on the Boardwalk from Venice Beach to Santa Monica.”
Koa lifted an eyebrow, “You can skateboard in Kauai.”
“Well, yeah I guess, but you aren’t going to run into any movie stars or anything.”
“You guys are from Hawaii?” Maeve asked.
“We are,” Jasmine said, pointing to herself and Koa, “Drake and El are from Seattle.”
“I’m actually from North Carolina,” El said, “Just live in Seattle now. For the past four years or so.”
“Oh, I love Seattle,” Maeve said, surprising me with conversational cooperation.
“You’ve been?” I asked.
“Yeah, quite a few times actually. Music scene is unreal.”
Now this chick was speaking my language. She liked real instruments, too. She told me so at Magpie. She was hot AND had good taste.
“What are you into? Music wise I mean.” I asked.
“Almost anything that’s not mainstream. Or techno.”
Translation: this one’s worth talking to.
“Guys, let’s sit down. Have a drink with us, Maeve?” Koa asked.
Suddenly, the awkward, stand-off woman was back. But this time, I sensed she was undecided. Or maybe it was she thought she was imposing.
“I don’t think so.”
I put my hand on her arm, gesturing her toward a chair. Her skin was soft like a moth’s wing. I wanted to rub my hand up and down it, take in the velvet.
“Just have one shot. It’ll help you sleep. This place will be lit in a minute, noisy. Think of it as a nightcap.”
“Okay,” she agreed, “Thanks.”
Sedna being a camp with a lot of traffic, there were quite a few chairs around, so I found an extra one and pulled it close to the fire for Maeve. We sat, and Koa passed the bottle first to Maeve.
She took a shot. Or maybe three. I’d never seen someone slug Jaeger so well and not even bat an eyelid when they were done. She must have been part dragon.
“Damn, that’s nice.” She said, passing the bottle to me.
The bottle visited us all, and it didn’t take long for the alcohol to tenderize Maeve.
“What do you do in Seattle?” She asked me.
“I’m a musician.”
An invisible eye roll was her only response.
“But by day,” I continued, “I sling fish at Pike Place Market. Hope you’re not a vegetarian.”
“Oh. That’s super cool, actually. I loved watching that.”
What kind of girl prefers a fish slinger to a rock star?
“So you’ve seen the show, huh?”
“One time,” Jasmine said from the other side of the fire, “He missed.”
“Jas! You’ll ruin my street cred.”
“Did you?” Maeve asked.
“Guilty. I hate to say it, but these guys were in town from Hawaii. I played a gig late, and we stayed up. I was fragile the next morning. But that was the ONLY time I dropped one. I prefer catching to tossing.”
Koa sniggered.
“Don’t be dirty, man,” I said to him.
“Well, we are at the Kink Dome,” he said.
Maeve giggled. The booze cracked her shell, and she smiled into the fire. It warmed her milky white cheeks and set her red lips ablaze.
“If you ever come to Seattle, I’ll let you try. If throwing a fish interests you?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“You can do that? Like, let a regular person throw a fish?”
“No. But I will anyway.”
She smiled as she teased me. I couldn’t tell if she liked me or was trying to make up for yesterday.
“Oh, you’re just a rebel then? A typical rock star? Gig by night, wait tables by day kinda thing?”
“Ouch. You’re vicious.”
“Sorry. Raised in L.A..”
Suddenly, I thought about Jason. I was this clo
se to tossing in my apron in at Pike Place. Then he stole my shit. Maeve read something was up.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean offend you.”
“No, I got it was a joke. No worries.”
Koa leaned over to speak to Maeve directly. “Drake is a seriously amazing musician. And song writer. His lyrics are like poetry. Seriously. If he wasn’t so hell bent on being on stage, he could be a poet laureate.”
Jasmine agreed. “OMG. The song about sins. Soooo good.”
Koa butt in, “Yeah but ‘Gentle’ has got to be the best.”
Maeve looked at me again, “You have at least two people in your fan club. That’s a start.”
Jasmine continued, “Drake can’t even keep them off with a six-foot pole. Swimming in fans in Seattle.”
My wing girl.
Maeve smiled at me.
“These guys,” I said, “They’re trying to cheer me up. I USED to be a bit of a name in town, but my band just broke up. So… who knows now.”
“Why did you break up?” Maeve asked.
“Ah, you know, nothing original.”
Just then, Pika and Joey came out of the Kink Dome and approached us at the fire.
“Heeeeey, ma people!” Pika shouted.
They looked happy.
Pika turned to Maeve, “Hey were you at Magpie last night?”
“Yeah.”
“This is Maeve,” I said.
“Ah, nice to meet you,” Pika held out his hand for a fist bump.
“Not to be rude. I’d rather not,” Maeve said, referring to his hand.
“Fair, fair,” Pika said, blowing her a kiss and bowing instead to show that even orgy masters were gentlemen. She smiled.
Pika addressed the group. “You all ready to tear some shit up or what?”
Maeve leaned closer to me and said quietly, “Thanks for the Jaeger.” Then to the rest she held up her hand, “Nice meeting you all.”
She walked back to her tent, arms crossed, rubbing herself warm.
Pika tapped my arm, “What? She’s not coming?”
Jasmine piped up. “She seems nice. Invite her out. Do your Drake thing and bring her along. I saw that twinkle in your eye, boy.”
“Nah.”
But I looked over to the flap and my body said otherwise. She had left it half open upon entering, which had felt like a similar invitation to her bent over ass.
“Alright, be right back.”
Walking over to the tent, I poked my head in.
Maeve turned around and gasped, “What the fuck?!”
“I just wanted to see if you’d come out with us tonight?”
“You could have knocked.”
“Could I have? It’s not exactly an obvious thing on a tent.”
Her face went paler than even before. Something had drained it. Me? I looked around the meager tent. A blow up mattress, sleeping bag and nothing else but a big plastic box, some old-fashioned lunchbox and a strange orb, ball thingy.
“You travel light,” I said.
Very few people brought so little to Uyu. People made homes away from home here.
“Yeah. I was in a hurry when I left this year.”
“Are you comfortable in here?”
“Yeah.”
I noticed on her bed there wasn’t even a pillow.
“What’s that thing?” I asked, pointing to the orb. “It’s beautiful.”
A blank stare.
I waited.
For an answer.
It wasn’t coming.
“Well, anyway, sorry to intrude,” I said, “Just wanted to know if you’d join us. There’s always room for one more on the ship. And that’s not an expression. I mean we’re going on the pirate ship tonight.”
Everyone at Uyu knew the pirate ship art car. It was enormous and lit up the horizon, a ghostly like vessel. Always booming tunes. A moving party.
I could tell she thought about it. But she just said, “I’m so tired. Seriously. I just need to sleep.”
“Alright. Well, maybe I’ll see you around. Have a glorious night, Maeve.”
7
For the second time at Uyu, I watched Drake walk off, leaving me alone. And again, I felt even MORE lonely than before he came. It defied logic. I was no worse off. But I felt it.
I plopped myself down on the air mattress and it exploded under my pressure. Shit. Hope I didn’t pop it. My Dad’s urn stared at me. I could feel him. Digging into my eyeballs. He wasn’t here, but I could still feel his parenting but not parenting stare. His “don’t make me tell you what to do because you already know what to do” look.
He hadn’t been gone long enough for me to forget his kind eyes, that special way of guilting me. Strange how a few shots of Jaeger and things go anthropomorphic. The Urn. The Lunchbox. They made me do it. They told me to. The next thing I knew, I spoke to the orb.
“Alright, alright. I’m getting ready, Dad.”
Digging through my costume box, I realized I was missing a key item. My coat. It was cold at night on the Plain. And the best I had was a long-sleeved lacy catsuit. That would be the warmest. I dug around some more. Shit. The boy brief panties I usually wore under it weren’t there. But then again. Neither was my Dad. My day-to-day undergarments consisted only of black thongs and black bras. That would do when my Dad wasn’t watching.
Slipping into the catsuit transformed me. With every tug upward, some tension squeeze out of me and I felt genuinely excited to go out by the time it was on. I used my cell phone flashlight to pop some eyeliner on and touch up my lipstick. Good enough. I didn’t want to wait too long before catching up with the group.
Tying up my knee high pleather boots, I looked at my Dad’s lunchbox again. I should really take some gifts. Maybe for the driver of the ship. And for a few more shots to add to the first three that felt so good.
Suddenly I realized how much I loved this place. Drake, Koa, Jasmine and El just popped that Jaeger in my hand, let me swig like there was no tomorrow and didn’t even think about asking for anything more other than my company. I wished it was like that in L.A.. If you wanted anything there, people wanted a pound of flesh in return. Maybe that was why I fretted about only have a few gifts for the week. I still used a different exchange rate.
Opening my Dad’s lunchbox was like popping a can of soda in my belly. It cramped, looking at all these items my Dad had carefully curated. That he had touched with his warm hands. I closed my eyes as I put my hand inside, wondering if I’d still be able to feel his energy if I concentrated hard enough.
I grabbed some invisible item inside the box and held it. It did. I swear it did. It sent me something. A flash of energy that climbed up my arm, streaming a trail of goosebumps all the way to my shoulder and then suddenly, a tear.
Fuck. I was crying again. I opened my eyes, wiped my cheek and revealed a necklace in my clenched fist. It was a steampunk style pendant where the large charm was like the beautiful inside of a clock. Golden cogs, silver cogs, all coming together at central points decorated with ruby like gems. It was quality, like everything my Dad had bought. Pandora, at least.
There were new themes every year at Uyu but one that was consistent was time. Hence a clock tower centrally located on the Plain every year.
Apparently the people that started Uyu were physicists. The burning clock tower at the end of the festival was to signify that all we have is now. My Dad had loved this concept. It was so consistent with how he had liked to live.
Smoothing the amulet in my hand, my other one reached inside the black box and shuffled through some items; I couldn’t see them well in the dark, but there were a few other time themed pieces, some bits of paper and three small bottles of what I assumed to be alcohol.
I lifted one of them and in the light of my cell recognized the familiar square shape and forest green hue. Yes. Jaeger.
I kissed it.
Thank you, Dad.
Riding out on my bike, I left the curved streets of perfectly aligned camps, heading tow
ard the epicenter of Uyu. I passed people lit up by neon and other means, magically moving about in the night. It was both exciting and eerie. Adrenaline pounded through me.
I parked my bike up on the edge of Center and September. Hopefully I’d able to easily find it later. I looked out at the great unknown. The dark. I wanted to find the pirate ship, but how? The space was at least as big as five football fields, and like the sea, you couldn’t see the end. Anything could be over the horizon.
Only fifty feet ahead of me was a huge illuminated jungle gym made of rope. It stretched about thirty feet across and into the air, almost as high. It was a spiderweb, and several Gypsies climbed into it. Art to experience.
Throwing my satchel around to the back, I climbed. I’d have a much better view at the top. A pair of women laughed next to me, their heels getting caught on some rope. I struggled myself. My satchel fell around my shoulder, making me lose my grip. My no-grip cosplay boots slipping with every step.
Finally, at the top, I scanned on the horizon. Dotted around the huge center space, on the massive expansive of flat desert were art installations, pop up bars. Like the grandest, most enormous stage with actors and players dotted around. It made me think of a black box theater. If the Gods performed.
At the very center, the clock tower and cathedral glowed gently in the distance. A stunning nighttime skyline. I recalled flying cross-country overnight once. Uyu reminded me of looking down over the Midwest. Tiny, glowing towns gave glimmering hellos through the blacked out sky.
Close to this jungle gym was another construction. It looked like a horse and a foal. I looked out further, wishing for a sign from the pirate ship.
Approaching me, a mast, a crow’s nest, it came through the night as if parting a fog.
Luck. My chance. My body threw itself clumsily down the spiderweb faster than my mind could cooperate. My leg slipped through a crack in the ropes. My satchel clung on to a rope above and then banged me in the head. I really hoped Drake didn’t spot me like this. Trapped like a struggling fly in a web.
I made it to the bottom and jogged toward the pirate ship.