Quincy Abrams held onto sleep as desperately as a drowning man holds onto air. The darkness of the room offered him no clue as to the hour, though it must still be early. He wondered what had drawn him from his dreams. He groggily swung his head away from his reddened arm which, judging from the numbness, was also hesitant to awaken.
He opened his eyes to their fullest possible extent, and was greeted by a wild haired and bespectacled boy he knew as William Denslie, just inches away from his own face.
“Hey, Quin,” William said, which caused Quincy to reel backwards, and tumble out of his bed with a loud thunk.
***
Quincy stared up from the crevasse between his wall and bed, as William gazed down at him. He grabbed the legs of his bed and pulled himself up.
“What. Have. I. Told. You?” Quincy panted, from drowsiness as well as fury, “about being that close to me when I wake up?” Then he noticed Williams’ stranger than usual appearance.
His chestnut brown hair was tied back, as was his new habit these days, and his brown eyes shone behind glasses that rested on the bridge of his curved nose. There was a long pink rift of a scar which faded into a scruffy brown thicket of beard.
Strapped across his shoulder was a black leather satchel, an insignia patched on the front. His tan vest didn’t compliment his hairless chest. His cutlass rested as his side.
Yes, William was in rare form today, and it was still too early for Quincy to assimilate this new character into his head. “And what the hell are you wearing that for?” Quincy stared at him. “I already told you, if you wanna role-play in the bedroom, then go see Alice.”
William laughed, a bright and pleasant sound at any other time of the day - but it was still too early for Quincy.
“Aw, Quin! Don’t flip out! Like I already told you, Alice and I are still just friends. And…you know I don’t swing that way.” He looked at Quincy who started right back at him, a quizzical expression on his face.
Quincy yawned, as he curled his toes up, causing them to pop loudly. “Then tell me, Billy the barbarian, what’s with the getup this early?”
Will’s jaw dropped, and his hands fell open palmed in front of him. “I’m a pirate!” Will declared, his cheeks flushed. “Not a barbarian…” William furrowed his brow, “…and you called me Bill…” he added as an afterthought.
“No.” he said seriously. “I called you Billy, not Bill.” Quin corrected him.
“No need to drop the B-Bomb, anyway…”
Quincy didn’t break the silence for several seconds, but he did smile in appreciation of his harassment methods for Will. “Ok, then, William Wave Slasher, what’s the deal?”
“Quincy, it’s the day before Ren Fair! I totally told you this eight days ago!” Will looked flabbergasted, as he continued to nerd out loud.
“Yeah, I know. You told me last night, too. You said you were going as a fairy, not a pirate.” Quincy said.
Will grinned sheepishly. “Well, I had the wings all glittered up, face paint galore, all the stuff a proper fairy would need, and I was ready to go. But I think Alice made off with my stuff, I couldn’t find it last night, so I got this outfit instead.”
“Why would Alice steal your stuff?” Quin was intrigued.
“When I showed her the fairy costume she said the only person who needed to see me in tights was her.” He looked at the ceiling. “She’s so repressed.” Will bit his lip and walked to the window, to stare out at the street below.
“Hmm, I bet.” Said Quincy, a visual of Alice danced in his mind, complete with fairy wings and glittered tights.
William sighed. “Nobody appreciates garbage men, ya know that?”
Quincy shook his head, not certain he had heard correctly, really wishing he hadn’t been woken up; if garbage men were outside his house it meant it was still before six.
“I mean, M’lord.” William said, as he clasped his hand around the handle of the cutlass at his side. “Were it not for the refuse carriers, the plague might rear its ugly ‘ead, again- then where wouldst we be?” William nodded gravely.
Quincy snorted and tossed a pillow in Will’s general direction.
“Well, Long Beard Barnacle Ass, your ship’s making berth soon, so kindly shiver your timbers out of my room. I’m getting changed.”
***
William thanked Quincy for dropping him off at the Corline Park Renaissance Fairgrounds, with the admonition to visit shortly. “And bring Alice; you two will have a really rad time!”
Quin stuck his head out the window of his green sedan. “Really? Rad?” Quin smirked. “Don’t you mean a grand old time? Or some nonsense like that?”
William paused, the leather scabbard for his sword tapping against his knees. “Suppose I do, my liege. Let the sun set warmly on your hindquarters.” William bowed deeply as Quin peeled away, covering William with a cloud of dust.
“Gotta love Quin.” William smiled, as he strolled the stony pathway leading up to the black gates that separated the 20th century from the 16th. He passed between the black metal and stepped back in time.
The first stand he saw was setting up a display for an odd type of oval instrument called an ocarina, and William being a music lover himself, decided that he should peruse the merchandise. As he drew closer to the wooden booth he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was manned by a teen decked out in what looked to be gypsy garb.
He took his time walking to the ocarina stand, making sure to size up the cute entrepreneur. She had slightly chubby cheeks that made her smile more pronounced. She wasn't heavy set but neither was she as lean as Alice. Her charcoal hair occasionally fell across her face, obscuring William's view of her assorted piercings. She wore a dirty white peasant style top with the top two buttons undone. His eyes automatically were pulled to a blood red necklace that hung between her—
“Good day to you, you scoundrel.” she said, stirring William from his thoughts. Her voice was as light as the winds that blew her hair.
“Lady, I would choose my words carefully.” He picked up his Ren Fair accent, a brutal impersonation of a proper English merchant. “For do you not know, that I am the feared Captain Will Denslayer?” He struck a pose that was meant to be impressive, though it may have come off as more ridiculous than anything else.
Judging by her smile she either thought it was cute, or exceptionally horrid. He considered her. She has a nice smile though,
The gypsy girl raised her head in dawning comprehension, and she placed both of her bejeweled hands on her hips. “I say, I had no idea. Fancy that, a pirate captain coming to my shop, the day before I can start selling anything.” she sighed.
He was upset; he was rather thinking that an ocarina would set off his pirate persona all the more, nothing like a shanty piped out through wood to set the mood. “Well, as I be merely looking at your wares, might I ask how much one could pay to acquire a fine instrument such as this?” he lifted up an ocarina and tossed it lightly into the air.
“For you Sir, I say it wouldn’t cost more than five dollars.” she tilted her head and grabbed the ocarina as it fell back towards his outstretched hand.
“Hey, I was looking at that.” He fell back into his modern day accent.
“You can look tomorrow, when I open my shop officially. Right now it’s just the setup.” she replied, her own accent dropping.
“Well, right.” he said, looking around the fairgrounds now. “You’ve got a prime spot for merchandising here, my fair…?” She had not yet revealed her name, and that was alright.
“My name is Lady Roslyn.” she extended her hand. Now, a suave cat would have taken the lady’s hand,
pressed their lips against it while staring deeply into the lady’s eyes. William however, was rarely suave. So, instead of a warm kiss, he gave her a handshake. “Nice to meet you.” he answered awkwardly. His face felt hot.
“You’re here early, Will Denslayer.” she knelt under the counter for a second and brought out an mp-3 player, which she dexterously scrolled through.
“I didn’t think modern day items were allowed in the fair.” he questioned her, hopping up to sit on the countertop.
“Consider it of the minstrel’s line.” she said, before the pleasant sounds of Material Girl emerged from the speakers.
William looked at her, never would he have taken her for a Madonna fan. “I. Love. That. Song.” William said, jiving where he sat.
Roslyn gave William a strange, searching look, as he hummed along to her music. “You like Madonna?” she narrowed her eyebrows as she watched him.
“Heck yeah!” he started counting off on his fingers. “Vogue …Like a Virgin … Beautiful Stranger …. I love that woman. Her influence in the world of pop has been more substantial than any other singular female artist. Though it could be argued that Sinead has—”
She forestalled him by placing her hand against his lips and he felt the cold metal of her rings against him. “Sorry. But I just can’t believe that you, a guy of … what, seventeen—” she looked to him.
“Eighteen actually…” he said, as she took her hand away.
“Ok, an eighteen-year-old guy… an eighteen-year-old cute guy.” She paused. “I just find it hard to believe that a guy likes Madonna.” her lips formed a perfect ‘O’ shape as she seemed to have stumbled upon a thought. “Wait. Do you keep your sword in a sheath or next to other swords?” she smiled enigmatically.
William raised his eyebrows at her. “Cute, eh? You know, my friend Quincy asked me the same thing when we first met.”
“Does he buckle swashes too?” she crossed her arms across her chest.
He paused, before he caught on. “Hey! No, not at all. He doesn’t. I don’t. We don’t buckle swashes… or cross swords.” he felt himself turn red all over again. Sweat and leather made an interesting fragrance, of that he was certain. “I like to sheathe my sword. Or …I would, I’m sure. But being that I’ve never sheathed my—”
She burst into laughter. “You, are too much. There is no way a straight, eighteen-year-old guy is a virgin. I’m sorry, but I’m beginning to think this is a prank, put on by the Royal Guard.” She shook her head.
William was dumbstruck; he just didn’t know what was so unbelievable. Didn’t everyone want to save themselves for that right person? He thought that was a good defense, so he pressed on with it. “I’m saving myself for the right person.” He nodded.
She smiled again. “I notice you said person, not girl.” she said, not unkindly.
He breathed heavily, now and repositioned himself on the counter so that he faced her plainly. Now he could look her right in her brown eyes. “I am saving myself for the right girl. But what if I was saving myself for the right guy? I believe that love knows no gender.”
“Aw, that was almost sweet. Did you steal that from a U2 song?” she lifted herself up and sat next to him on the countertop.
“Actually no, but I like them too. Does that make you think I’m weird?”
She pondered his question for a moment, before shaking her head. “No. Just a bit stranger than every other guy I’ve known.”
They didn’t speak again for several minutes, during which time they were passed by men in kilts, chanting druids and grog drinking merchants. A particularly burly man with a stomach that preceded him by about a foot carried a turkey leg that smelled heavenly.
“I say, Roslyn. My ship is currently far away from me, but I was wondering if your band of gypsies had a horse or mule.”
“Now why would you wonder that?” she looked out past the fair gates.
“Well. There are some restaurants just next to the expressway, outside the grounds. If you had some transportation, we could grab some grub.”
“Why Captain, is that a proposal for courtship?”
“Nah, just a pirate asking for a companion on the way to have food.”
She walked from behind the countertop and nodded. “C’mon then, Captain, take me to the new world.”
***
William and Roslyn walked under the gates. Their arms swung back and forth in wide arches as they ambled through the grass leading to Roslyn’s vehicle. William thought it silly that he hadn’t been at the fairgrounds for more than an hour, and yet here he was leaving. He caught himself occasionally brushing Roslyn’s hand with his own, and he had to make a conscious effort to not make it appear obvious.
“That’ll be mine, right over there.” Roslyn pointed, and Will saw an ordinary green van, dirtied windows and a rusted tailpipe. Being so far away, he couldn’t make out any more details, but as he drew closer it came into focus.
“Shotgun.” he said as he turned his head to look at her.
She laughed and William thought how unusual it was that she laughed so often, yet he so little. “Shotgun doesn’t work on my ride, Captain.” Roslyn said as she walked right past the green van. When Roslyn stopped at gleaming chrome covered motorcycle William felt his pulse quicken.
“You never told me you rode a bike.” William said. His eyes scanned the bike up and down, admiring its beautiful design.
“I pointed to it, it’s not my fault you thought it was that heap.” She smiled wryly. She reached into a leather pouch with skulls emblazoned on it, and pulled out a pink helmet.
“Cool helmet.” Will said, checking out the little stickers on it. “You’re a real Hell’s Angel, huh?” he crossed his arms.
“Glad ya like it,” she tossed it to him, and he barely caught it. “Cuz you’re the one wearing it.” she took a black helmet out of the other bag and put it on. She straddled the bike and looked behind her. “Ya getting on?” she asked as she pulled out a pair of sunglasses from an inner section of her top.
“I didn’t think you seemed like a pink helmet kinda lady.” He swallowed hard, lowered his eyes to the helmet and put it on hesitantly. I get to hold on to her waist…is that a little fresh? He swung his left leg over the chassis and settled himself onto the remainder of the cushion.
He put his hands on her shoulders, thinking it was more fitting, and he heard her sigh heavily. She slapped him on his knee and he released her shoulders at once.
“It’s the waist or nothing, Denslayer.” as she lowered her visor and brought the bike to life.
He took a breath and put both arms around her waist. Is this too high? Should they be lower? Is that safer? He breathed heavily. If I fall off…does that make me the bitch? He wondered if his helmet was supposed to feel so hot.
***
As the two sat in the off white and extremely uncomfortable benches eating their steamy burgers, they shared stories of life. “I came to fair to have a good time, because for as long as I remember, I’ve always loved swords and leather.” William took a sloppy bite out of his cheeseburger and wondered if his eating habit made him look like a glutton. Smaller bites, he told himself. He remembered when Alice picked on him for taking big bites. “So you handle yourself pretty well with blades then?” She dipped her french-fry in mustard.
William had seen weirder things; he was sure of it. He just couldn’t recall when. He licked the roof of his mouth and then sipped his soda. “I guess I can, I’ve never been in a joust or anything. Though that would be pretty rad.”
Roslyn folded the wrapping of her cheeseburger and nodded in agreement. “I’d like to see you be all knightly. I think it could be pretty cool.” she added emphasis to the last word, and William wondered if she was toying with him.
“Cool?” he rolled his eyes. “Who says cool?” there was a ringing bell as another couple came through the front doors of the establishment. He caught his thoughts…a couple…he and Rosalyn weren’t a couple…why did it feel like they were?
She chewed thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose anyone in the sixteenth century said cool.”
He grinned. “Me neither.”
“However, I don’t think anyone in the 20th century still says rad. I was in a Big Sister program, my sis said rad, and she’s about 28 now.” her tone of voice made it seem as though she had settled the matter by superior argument.
Maybe it was a stroke of inspiration, or perhaps it was just chance, but he found an excellent response, pre-formed in his mind. “I see, so you think I am more mature than my age. I thank you, kind lady.” William inclined his head and raised his paper glass in a toast to her good nature.
“You like to infer, don’t you William?”
He didn’t know if she was being playful or serious. If only he understood her the way, he understood Quin and Alice. Roslyn was an interesting girl, he thought, and was excited to get to know her better. “I do like to infer.” he replied.
“I like you, infer what you will from that.” She put all of her trash on her tray and sucked the last bit of liquid from her cup, before bending the straw so that it re-entered the cup.
William felt it necessary to respond with something coy, something that would make him seem flirtatious. “I like…” his words clung to his throat.
She waited, her expression patient, yet it eventually gave way to resignation. “Me? Is that what you were searching for? Cuz if you do, I would be very pleased to consider you my first new friend from this season.”
He grinned, and nodded his head perhaps a little too vigorously. Her lips became thin, as they were pressed so tightly together. Before she stuck her tongue out at him. “Aye, I would like that.” William admitted.
“Alright then.” she patted him on his hand from across the table. “I think we can go back to the fair now; likely we’ll have something to do tonight. Some big party, or pre-party party. This more likely than not, will be followed by a post-party party.”
William had just started to feel comfortable, but at the mention of a party, he became excited. His fingers scratched at his pants, and his scabbard tapped against the tiles on the floor as his leg bounced. He made a bold confession. “I play in a band. I sing, actually.” His eyes met hers, he waited for her response. Please, let her be impressed. I really like this girl, God if you’re listening…I’m really sorry about the extra sips of wine during church yesterday…let her like me and I’ll never overdo the wine again.
“Oh really?” she raised her eyebrows, and rose from her seat. “Let’s hear it.”
His stomach dropped out. “N..n…now?” he stuttered.
“Yes.”
William shrugged it off, and looked around the restaurant. “Not the most ideal place to promote Lipstick Trace…that’s the band name, by the way.” He gave her a meaningful look. “But all the same, I’ll do it.” He clapped his hands together and stood up proudly. “Attention everyone.” the twenty or so people within the restaurant turned to look at him. “I am going to entertain you with a song. If you like it, please let me know. If you don’t like it, kindly refrain from saying so.”
Roslyn gave him some space and let her hands fold across her lap.
William took a deep breath, placed one hand on his chest and belted out a cracked voice version of one of their latest songs. “Hey you, fairy princess. Let me take your stress, from off your wings, and gimme the chance to sing. Oh oh…”
The tomato that hit him likely came from a cheeseburger. It slapped against his cheek and William took that to mean it was a good a time as any to bolt.
Roslyn laughed raucously as they made their way back to her bike. “Will, Will, Will… my shanty singing pirate. I think it’s my turn to hold your waist.” She took the pink helmet and handed him the black.
William was feeling rather encouraged, despite his unwelcome welcome to Corline County. So he fumbled the mechanism that started the bike, and lost his breath as Rosalyn’s arms wrapped tightly around him. He could get used to a thing like that.
***
Rosalyn pulled the bike back into the grassy field where she had previously let the bike come to rest. Rosalyn patted the hands resting on her sides and William released her. He felt a pang of sadness that the ride home had seemed much shorter than the adventure out.
Rosalyn pulled off the helmet and placed it back in the leather pouch from whence it had come. “I thought you said you had operated a bike before?” she said, her voice accusatory.
William didn’t have to think long on where she had gotten such a terribly fictitious notion. “Actually, I had intended to say I had had dreams where I operated a bike. I must not have said the first part loudly enough.” He shrugged, placing his pink helmet, acquired after they had sat in the restaurants parking lot for a period of five minutes, back in the leather pouch.
She nodded slowly, a facetious smile on her face as she started walking back into the fair grounds. “Mmm, I mustn’t have been listening intently enough.”
“That’s OK; I think you’re still groovy.” He swayed his head to and fro; his tied back hair was causing him some level of discomfort, his face contorted painfully.
“I bet you use that line on all the girls, huh? I betcha it wins you many a sexy lady.” She paused, her grin mischievous. “Or, maybe you just use it on the dudes, Mr. Swashbuckler.”
William’s cheeks turned a magenta color, and his eyes rolled in disbelief. “Oh come on, Rosalyn. I do think you’re groovy.”
“I notice no comment on the dude part of my retort. You’re as good and gay as Freddy Mercury.” She sighed exasperatedly. “And here I was hoping you would want to hang out some more this merry evening.”
“Oh I can still hang out.” He decreased the distance between them, as they walked past Rosalyn’s booth and further into the grounds. “I mean, if you want to hang out I think that would be awesome.”
“Even though you’re as gay as Freddy Mercury?” she winked at him, and her necklace flashed in the sunlight. “You keep talking about my apparent fascination with homosexuals. Dude, seriously. I think you have unresolved issues, something having to do with a misconception of gender roles-…something to do with Freud…” William struggled to remember his Psychology class in high school; he thought he had come off sounding well educated.
Rosalyn laughed.
“Is that laughter a clever cover up for the accuracy of my statement?”
“Come on WD-40, there’s going to be a gathering of Rennies this way.”
William stopped in his tracks, cutlass banging against his leg as his jaw dropped in astonishment. “Are you for real?”
“Yeah. Real as fairies. Come on, I’m playing with you.” she motioned for him, her index and middle finger making little walking motions.
“I can’t believe you just called me WD-40.” he felt rather disgruntled. She seemed to have an odd way of showing friendship; if that’s what the last few hours had been the start of. He hoped so, Rosalyn made him feel pretty rad. “What’s your last name?” he asked.
Her face screwed up in an odd fashion, eyebrows raised and lips curled. “Where did that come from?” She stepped onto a wooden bridge that ran over a small lake.
“Well,” his hands went into his pockets, and, feeling nothing within, he removed them, “you know my last name, hence the WD comment. I just don’t know yours.” He felt like he might be hovering on the creepy side, he needed to make his curiosity sound normal. “So I can…you know, make up a clever taunting name for you.”
She let out a low whistle, and looked sideways to him. “It’s Lyden. Rosalyn Lyden. I’d like to see you make a taunting and clever nickname for that, Sir.” she said, poking him on his bicep.
He returned the poke; his heart fluttered. His hand went too far west and he touched her in a place he had never dared touch Alice.
Her hand slapped his with the haste of a charging paladin. “Virgin my ass!” she cried uproariously, a giggle just detectable in her voice.
“I…” he looked her in the eye. “I…” he looked at her chest. “I…it was an accident?” He knew he was grasping at straws, maybe she was aware of his desperation as well.
“I’ll let you have that one, grace. Do it again though, and I may have to shove an ocarina up your ass.”
“Oh.” was all he could manage, his imagination flying hazardously. He ran his hand through his hair, applying all of his strength to a particularly irksome itch he had come to know in the last few seconds.
Rosalyn and William walked through the fairgrounds, a good majority of the establishments were still closed up; a few people were sitting outside shooting the breeze. The owners smoked cigarettes boldly, with their cans of soda resting not too far from their hands. In the morning, William thought, all of this would be gone. It would be all old world. “I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he said, as they passed a jewelry booth.
“You gotta appreciate the now William. Otherwise tomorrow is gonna be nothing but regrets.” Rosalyn looked to her feet, William did the same. He missed the sounds of the fairy bells on his ankles, but pirates never wore bells. It would give up the secrecy aspect of the career. “That was deep. This one time, I had a teacher in high school tell me something like that. Life’s like a coin, you can spend it any way you want, but you can only spend it once.” William tried to sound wise.
“That’s almost kind of right.” she said, kicking a clump of mud out of her way; it went flying. “I heard there were these coins you could cut up and get different values from them. A nickel could make five pennies, like that.”
“Wow. You have a way of over analyzing things.” William shrugged. “It’s ok, I admire that.”
“Well, how do you want to spend your coin tonight?” she nudged him; her feet carrying her a little too close to his side.
“Hmmm, I’ve already sung today, so that’s out. I’ve already eaten a little, so I’m not too hungry. We could—”
“Get a portrait drawn in renaissance style.” she interrupted, pointing at the booth occupied by a balding man who was looking lonely. He had a large pitcher of grog, or rather, a large pitcher. The grog was nearly all gone.
“I could lay down a coin or two for that. But I don’t know if I’d really want a picture of myself in Ren garb just yet. I want to get a few paychecks built up and really improve my look.”
“You’ve got the look, Willie D. You’re a juvenile scam if I ever saw one.” She said wistfully with a glint of amusement in her eyes from beneath those black locks.
William had to stop in his tracks; he was making sure he had heard correctly. “Did you just,” he looked at her, certain that he was going loopy, “quote Roxette?”
She nodded. “I like ‘em. I think they’re pretty rad, as you would say.”
He resumed walking, by her side as wonderful possibilities found a comfortable home in his head. “I love Roxette. They are like, my favorite band …ever.” He added emphasis; he had to make her know how he felt about them.
“Well, that’s just fine with me. You’ve earned some brownie points; it’s not every eighteen-year-old cute, straight, guy who would admit to liking them.”
“Totally.” he mustered.
“Oh, and Will.” she added, her voice dropped to a light whisper, he had to lean in close to hear her.
“It’s going to be a picture of both of us, which I will keep until such a time that I no longer desire it.”
William was glad to have an honest reason to look into Rosalyn’s eyes. “Oh. OK, just promise not to do anything weird with it.”
She scoffed. “Like masturbate?”
William paled; she certainly had a tongue on her. Of course, he scolded himself, her tongue shouldn’t be on his mind. They had just met. “No,” he said awkwardly. “Well, yes!” his voice raised before he knew it.
Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked insulted. “Well, what I meant to say is that’s well within your rights… if you wanted to… I couldn’t stop you…” He thought of Rosalyn in ways that he hadn’t really thought of Alice. FOCUS! DENSLIE! He ordered himself. “What I meant was like, don’t draw me with a mus