Me: If you say so…
Vampire Jared: We do, now get ready!
Rock Star Samil: Just get here guys
Me: Fine fine, I’m getting ready. See you soon.
∞
Main Street is closed off to traffic with temporary blockades. The barrier stretches across the street and cones block the driveways.
Clayton pulls up at the drop off point in front of the downtown public parking lot and stops the van. Jared immediately jumps out of his seat and opens the side door, excitement radiating off him.
“You're going to love this, Sprite!” Sebastian grins. “The Harvest festival is a town tradition that can't be missed. We’ve got the arts and crafts show, baking contests and cook offs, and tonight, the orchestra will be playing under the stars.”
I let Sebastian's words wash over me as I focused on the energy swirl around me, reinforcing my shields. At least I knew from our trip to the carnival that I should be fine around an outdoor crowd.
“Hurry it up, folks! We’ve got a line here,” calls the security guard controlling traffic from his post in the middle of the street.
“Seriously, Bast?” Samil twists around and glares, his pierced eyebrow raised. “Enough talking. We need to get a move on, everyone out.”
“Come on, Pixie,” Jared says, offering me a hand. His long hair is loose, and the light breeze blows the blue black strands around his face. “Let’s go before the rent-a-cop gets mad.”
I take his hand, the cool energy wrapping around my wrist as he helps me out onto the sidewalk. Stepping out of the way, I slip on my backpack and straighten my long black and white sweater, pulling it free in the back where it snagged on my bag.
Hopefully, between the sweater and my Faire Isle skull sweater leggings, I won’t freeze to death today. Although the guys were right, it doesn’t feel that cold at the moment. At least not standing out in the sun.
Sebastian and Ian spill out onto the sidewalk, laughing at something I’ve missed. Wait a minute; they’re wearing jeans and tee shirts? They’re going to freeze in that!
“Hey, Bast. I thought you said we needed to dress warm…” I stare disapprovingly at the three of them. “You guys don’t look prepared for the cold.”
“Well…” Sebastian turns towards me, his angelic face lit up with a smile. “What I meant was, you should dress warm… After all, you get cold easily.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I roll my eyes. “Thanks.”
“Sorry Pixie, but you know he’s right about this one,” Jared smirks.
“Guys, focus!” Samil barks, leaning out the window. “I’m going with Clay to park the van. We’ll catch the shuttle back and meet up with you in 30 minutes at the gazebo.”
“Aye, Aye, Captain!” Jared snaps his heels together and salutes. With a shake of his head, Samil signals Clayton to drive.
“Don’t cause any trouble, Trouble,” Clayton calls as the van pulls away.
“We’ll see!” I yell after them. With a final wave, I turn back to Sebastian and the twins. “Sooo... where exactly is this gazebo we’re supposed to meet at?”
“It’s in the center of the Emerson Park, a block over from town square.” Ian offered.
“Oh, isn’t that going to be out of our way?”
“Not at all.” Ian answers. “The bulk of the art fair is set up over in Emerson Park.”
“Hey, now, Ian, no stealing my gig,” Sebastian chides. “Now, are you ready for the grand tour, Sprite?” I nod and Sebastian flashes me a smile. “The festivities start right here, in the public parking lot,” He loops his arm through mine and turns us towards downtown. Jared comes up on my other side and slips his hand in mine as we start walking.
A variety of tents in different colors, shapes and sizes line the sidewalk, and stretch off into the distance. People stroll down the middle of the street, filling it with laughter and happy chatter.
“Off to the left,” Sebastian explains with a grand flourish of his free arm. “We’ve got the cook off competitors.”
“Oh fun,” I smile. “Is anyone we know competing?”
“Clayton’s Dad is here somewhere, making his famous chili.” Jared volunteered. “Once the judges try all the entries, the rest will be sold to raise money for the PTA.”
“That’s so cool. We’ll have to come back later.”
“That’s the plan,” Sebastian grins. “It’s tradition to sample everything from the cook off.
“Exactly,” Ian joins the conversation as he trails behind us. “We’ll swing by later tonight and visit all the booths for our Harvest feast.”
“Enough interruptions, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,” Sebastian holds up his hand for silence, and I stifle a giggle.
“Now, may I continue?” He asks with exaggerated seriousness.
“Please do,” I encourage, bumping his shoulder.
“The rest of the food court is in the other section of the parking lot, hidden behind Main Street. That's where you’ll find the local restaurant booths as well as the food trucks.”
“Up ahead we have booths from the local businesses,” Sebastian continues in his cheesy tour guide voice, grandly gesturing at Main Street. The sidewalks are lined with tables and tents full of various goods from the local stores. “They sit outside till dusk so they don’t miss out on the tourist traffic heading to the park.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I suppose that makes sense. There are a lot of people walking around today. It’s a good thing there isn’t any rain forecast this weekend, although won't it get colder once the sun sets?”
“Yup, but we’ve got our jackets in the van for later, so no need to worry about that,” Ian reassures. We meander down the right side of the street, not bothering to stop at the local merchant set ups.
At least not until I see the 75% off banner at the used book store; I can’t resist the lure of a book sale. Pulling away from the guys, I cross the street to check it out. The booksellers have tables and rolling carts full of books out on the sidewalk for easy access. I can’t help running my fingers along the spines as I read the titles. Some books send a little tingle along my finger, but nothing like the power that radiated off the Magi books in the guys collection.
If I had to hazard a guess as to why, I’d say some books contain residual energy left over from the focus placed on them by previous owners. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean those books are necessarily good ones. Negative emotions leave as strong an impression as positive ones. I’ve read some books that were so bad I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that my anger, disgust, and/or disappointment lingered. Maybe when I have more time and things aren’t so crazy, I’ll experiment and see if I can figure out how to read the emotions left on objects the way I do from people.
With that in mind, I start selecting the books that give off the strongest tingles.
“Don’t you have enough books already, Pixie?” Jared asks as he comes up next to me.
“Bite your tongue, Jared. There is no such thing as enough books. And besides, everything is 75% off right now. I am all about a good sale.”
“I completely agree, Emmy,” Ian chimes in from the other side of the table, where he’s already started his own stack of books.
“Come on, guys,” Sebastian frowns, shaking his head as he takes the armload of books from me. “You’ve already picked out a ton of books, and we’ve only just got here. That’s going to be too heavy to carry around all day.”
“Well, it would be,” Ian agrees. “But I’m sure Mr. Mohannagan would be willing to hang on to them for us. We can just pick them up later today or tomorrow.”
“Ha!” I cry triumphantly. “And this is why Ian is the Smart one!” I flash him a smile and he rewards me with a shy smile of his own.
“Hey! What about me?” Jared pouts.
“You’re the Broody one,” I quip, sticking my tongue out.
Sebastian stares at me, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry; you’re the Funny one, Bast.” I wink, g
rabbing a couple mysteries that look like fun.
“And…” Sebastian prompts. I glance over at him as I move to the next table.
“Seriously, Bast?” Jared grumbled. “Whatever. Ian, Pixie, come on, no more book shopping. Let’s just pay and get out of here. You can come back and look at this stuff anytime.”
“And what, Bast?” I ask, running my hand over the spines and grabbing a few more that have a lot of energy. “Calm down, I’m almost done, Jared.”
“What about Clay and Samil?” Sebastian demanded. “What are they? You can’t just stop now, Sprite.”
“They aren’t here, Sebastian, and we need to get a move on if we’re going to meet them on time.” Jared pointedly taps his watch.
“What’s your problem, Jared? Are you trying to get upgraded to the Responsible one?” Sebastian snickers, but takes the stack of books he’s carrying for me and gets in line to pay. Ian follows his lead, joining the queue behind him.
“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Bast,” Jared rolls his eyes. “You too, Pixie.”
“Ya, ya,” I mutter, grabbing one last book before joining Ian and Sebastian. “You’re still the Broody one. And to answer your question, Bast, Clayton is the Athletic One. And Samil… Well he’s the Rebellious one.”
“And what does that make you, Sprite? The Final Girl?”
“Better than a TSTL.”
“What’s TSTL?” Ian asks, shuffling forward.
“Too Stupid To Live.” I snicker.
We finish paying and Ian runs the bags inside to Mr. Mohannagan. A few minutes later he’s back with a triumphant smile. Swapping places with Jared, Ian threading his fingers through mine, his reassuring energy enveloping me like a hug.
“And now for the main event, the art festival!” Sebastian announces as we walk the short distance to the town square. The park in the center of the square is filled with brightly colored tents lined up in orderly rows. “Every imaginable form of artistic expression, all gathered here for your shopping pleasure.”
“Alright, alright,” Jared interrupts, coming around to walk in front of us. “Come on, Mister Tour Guide, I think she gets the picture.” He grabs my free hand and pulls me away from Sebastian. “Now let's get to the gazebo. We’ll have plenty of time to see the sights once we meet up with Clay and Samil.” Dragging me along behind him, he makes a right, taking us away from the square, past Tony’s and between two buildings.
We emerge on another street, directly across from another park, at least ten times as big as the square. Huge trees tower over more colorful tents. How have I never been here before?
Jared keeps moving, his long legs eating up the distance as he weaves through the crowd of people and I find myself practically running to keep up. We finally reach the center, where an enormous wrought iron gazebo sits on a red brick base, towering over the tents. It’s decorated in harvest colors, with orange and brown bunting and streamers. Clayton and Samil sit on the gazebo’s concrete stairs watching the passing crowd.
“About time you guys showed up,” Samil says, rising to his feet.
“We were starting to think you guys got lost.” Clayton grinned.
“Sprite was distracted, although we did learn what horror movie stereotype she thinks we are,” Sebastian laughs.
“Lost in the book store, is more like it.” Jared mutters, rolling his eyes.
“Sorry guys,” I giggle, trying and failing to appear remorseful. “They were having a huge sale, and I got distracted.”
“Of course you did.” Clayton laughs. “Well there are plenty of sales for you to check out today.” He looped his arm around my shoulder and turned me towards the aisle of tents. “So, what’s this about horror movie stereotypes?”
∞
We spend the afternoon checking out the different booths, looking at an endless variety of goods. Paintings, photographs, holiday decorations, wind chimes, fountains, jewelry, pottery, sculptures, and so much more. I had no idea there were so many artistic people on the island. Well, maybe they aren’t all from the island; looking at the vast array of displays, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out many of the people participating in and enjoying the festival came over from the mainland. This is a much bigger event than I expected.
By the time we work our way through all the booths, it is after 4:00, the sun is slowly sinking in the west, and my wallet is much lighter.
“You guys ready to grab some food?” Samil asks as he turns towards Main Street.
“Hell yes!” Clayton cheers. “I’ve been looking forward to Dad’s chili all day!”
“Don’t you have his chili all the time?” I can’t help laughing as the guys eagerly follow Samil’s lead.
“Not his special festival chili,” Clayton explains. “He spends days prepping and cooking it, so he only makes it once a year for the festival.”
The guys speed up, the idea that food is in the near future quickening their pace, and I find myself trailing farther and farther behind. My Doc Martens are normally great, but after all the walking we’ve done today; my feet feel like they’re on fire.
“Hey guys, can we sit down for a few minutes? I’m dying here.”
“Of course, Sprite,” Sebastian drops back and takes my shopping bags, looping his free arm through mine. “There’s a picnic area set up over by City Hall. It’s not much farther now.” Groaning, I limp along beside him as we enter the square.
“Do you want me to give you a piggy back ride?” He grins, giving me a cheeky wink.
“Don’t tempt me,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I think we’ve given the peons enough to talk about already.”
“Hey,” Ian calls, interrupting whatever response Sebastian may have made. “Go on ahead, I’m going to run by the book store and grab our bags.” He breaks away and jogs down Main.
“I should go help, Ian.” I say, trying to pull away from Sebastian.
“Oh, no you don’t, Pixie,” Jared orders, dropping back to intercept me. He grabs my free arm, while Sebastian tightens his grip on the other one. “You’ve done enough damage at the bookstore for one day. Ian will get your books.”
“Jared’s right. Besides, I’m starving, and your feet hurt,” Sebastian grins. I roll my eyes but let them pull me along. Clayton looks back and winks at me, then jogging off to catch up with Samil.
Behind the art gallery, there’s a huge tent set up to cover the picnic area. Speakers pipe in the local radio station, and an assortment of mismatched tables, chairs and benches are available. Clearly meant to entice the festival goers into taking a break and trying the food. Beyond the tent, the food vendors are doing brisk business. People swarm the area; walking around looking at the options, waiting in line to order or pick up their food and drinks, and gathered around the tables.
“How come we never park in this lot? It’s a lot closer to the bank and town square.”
“Exactly, Pixie,” Jared says. “A lot of this section is reserved for City Hall staff, and the rest fills up with the folds that work down here. Everyone else has to park at the other end of the lot.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
Up ahead, Samil weaves his way through the crowd to an open picnic table. I notice a group of kids from our class heading towards the same table from the other direction. Samil must have seen them too, because he breaks into a run, jumping on the bench and sitting down right in the middle.
“Sorry guys, this table is taken,” Samil shrugs. Grumbling and shooting us dirty looks, they turn and storm off.
“Nice save, Samil.” Clayton grins, slapping him on shoulder before flopping down on the bench. He waves to me. “Come here and take a load off, Trouble.”
With a sigh of relief, I sit down beside him. Sebastian sets my bags down on the table, and then takes a seat on the other side.
“Found ya!” Ian crows as he joins us, wearily dropping half the bags on the ground. Good thing I paid extra for the reusable cloth bags. I don’t think the plastic ones would have liv
ed through that. “Hey Clay, can I get the keys from you? I’m going to take these out to the van.”
“Oh, would you mind grabbing my jacket while you’re there, Ian?”
“Of course, Emmy,” Ian smiles.
“Catch, man” Clayton laughs, tossing him the keys.
“I’ll go with you,” Samil offers, hopping down from the table. “It’ll be faster if I show you where we parked. Hey, give me your other bags, Em. We’ll take those to the van too.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I protest.
“We’re going out there anyways. And trust me; you’re going to get tired of carrying them.”
“Alright. Thanks, Samil.” I smile, passing him my bags. He grabs a couple bags of books and glances over at the food tents.
“Bast. Jared. Why don’t you guys score us some food? From the look of those lines, we might make it back before you do.” Samil grins. “Let’s go, Ian.”
“We’ll be back!” Ian says, grabbing the rest of the books and following Samil.
“Famous last words,” I call after them, shaking my head. “So… What's for lunch?”
“Like I said earlier, we’ll grab up a little bit of everything.” Sebastian replies.
“Exactly, most of those food trucks come over from the mainland just for this weekend. So there is tons of stuff to try that we can’t normally get.” Clayton chimes in.
“Sounds great, shall we divide and conquer then?” I ask, standing.
“Nah, not you, Pixie,” Jared says, putting his hand on my shoulder, and gently pushing me back down.
“Hey,” I grumble, shoving Jared hand off my shoulder. “I don’t mind helping.”
“No, he’s right, Sprite,” Sebastian smiled. “Your feet hurt. You and Clay should stay here and guard the table; Jared and I, we’ll go grab the first round of food.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” I protest.
“Hey, if it’s that important to you, you and Clayton can do the next run.” Jared offers, running his hand through his hair.
“Ok,” I relent. “That’s fair.”
“We’ll be back soon,” Sebastian winks, tugging on my pony tail. “Let’s go, Jared.”
Wave of Truth (The Magic Catalyst Chronicles Book 4) Page 8