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“You are ten years old, you know that?” he teased as he waited to buy his sister some sticky popcorn.
“No, I am twenty-three, and I know that because I also want a beer, and I can have one.”
“Kettle corn and beer?” He shuddered extravagantly; the girl’s tastebuds were broken.
“Cast not the first stone, ye who dips Cheez-Its in peanut butter.”
“Hey now. Peanut butter and cheese crackers are a well-established combination.”
She bunched up her face in rhetorical disgust. “Gross. Also, you leave cracker crumbs in the peanut butter. Triple gross.”
“You should be nicer to the person buying your junk food.”
She swung her hip into his leg. “You like me this way.”
Yeah, he really did.
Nearly four months after she’d been attacked, Zelda was about as back to ‘normal’ as she would be, Zaxx thought. She’d tried her level best to push anything like trauma behind her; by the time her body was fully healed, she’d barreled back into her life.
But she was different, too. Her exuberance now had a performative cast, like she was forcing herself to be as she’d been. When she came into a space, her eyes traveled in every direction, scoping out the scene, looking for danger. To some degree, he thought the difference not a terrible thing; Zelda had been wildly reckless before. But he despised the reason she’d become more cautious.
She also dressed differently, more covered, more ‘normal,’ especially around town. That had confused him at first; he thought she should feel safer close to home, but she dressed pretty much in her old baby-doll-punk look when she went to school or work. Here in town, though, now she wore baggy sweaters and jeans.
Gia had noticed the same thing and had given him a new way to understand: what had happened to her was known in town—not everyone, but enough people. She felt more exposed here, so she covered up more.
He hated that, but had no idea how to fix it. Gia’s only insight to that was ‘it’ll take time.’
It was their turn for kettle corn. Zelda looked up at the bags dangling from the cart frame, beneath the KKK sign, and squealed. “Rainbow! I want rainbow!”
He couldn’t help but yank her close and give her a squeeze before he pulled his wallet out and bought her a bag of rainbow kettle corn. Every moment of true delight she felt was a treasure.
After buying her snack, they walked down the fairway, Zelda shoveling popcorn in her mouth and Zaxx swiping a handful or two, toward the Valhalla Vin booth. Their mom was working there, and Zelda had decided she’d rather get a free glass of wine than buy a beer from the No Place keg. Ultimately, they were headed toward the ‘Farmland’ area of the festival, where notably huge produce was on display, and an array of local animals that had won awards at the county and state fairs. There was also a horseback-riding corral, and Gia was working a full shift there.
“Who’s that chick?” Zelda asked. She’d been stopping at every art and craft table, munching on popcorn while she inspected beaded friendship bracelets, silver and stone earrings, handmade journals, stained-glass danglers, and any other wares on display.
The Horde had a booth, too, of course. They always towed their smokers out for events like this and offered good barbecue standards, collecting the proceeds for charity. Zaxx had done his Harvest Festival work obligation during the setup, so he didn’t have a shift at the smoker; he could enjoy the day.
He turned and scanned the fairway for Zelda’s target.
First, he saw Mindy and Hilary Jasper, in a cluster with two other town girls, Adeline Coswell and Tania Larson. All four were dressed casually, in jeans and fluffy sweaters. They looked like a group of friends enjoying the day—except that Adeline and Tania were seniors in high school, so considerably younger than the Jasper girls. It was a little weird, but probably harmless. The Jasper girls had been quiet lately, and it was well known they were both out of favor with the Horde. Maybe teenagers were the best they could do for friends.
“The Jaspers?” Zaxx asked, surprised Zelda didn’t know them.
“Cripes, Zaxx. I know those skanks. No, that chick.”
Zaxx recalibrated his focus. Zelda was aimed at the other side of the fairway, at the Valhalla Vin stand about four tables down. Badger, Double A, and Mayor Hopkins stood before the counter with a slim redhead. They each had a glass of red wine.
Badger and Double A were dressed as usual, in jeans, hoodies, and their kuttes. The mayor was weekend casual, wearing dark Wranglers, well-worn cowboy boots, a pressed plaid flannel shirt, tucked in, and a green puffer vest. The slim redhead wore a cream-colored business suit, the jacket and skirt both tailored to fit her body perfectly, and brown pumps with heels as long and thin as blades.
Zaxx knew who she was: Autumn Rooney. He didn’t remember her title, but he knew her job: fucking shit up in Signal Bend. She was the ‘guy’ Badger and Dom had first met with a few weeks back.
“She works for that development company,” he told Zelda. “The one that’s trying to buy the tractor-repair place.” He didn’t like to see the club president and VP yukking it up with that woman. The Horde hadn’t made any decisions yet about whether or what to do with that property, but there was a strong lean away from Autumn Rooney’s employer. Dom had put together a file on MidWest Growth & Progress, Inc., and their idea of ‘growth and progress’ was all dollar signs—for themselves and only themselves.
Badger had brought it to a town meeting a little more than a week ago, and town sentiment was ambivalent as well. Outsiders had a high bar to clear to find a place in Signal Bend.
But there the town leaders were, making nice with the chick who represented Big Development.
Dub must have said something amusing, because Rooney tossed her head back and laughed, letting her thick curtain of dark ginger tresses wave behind her. She moved as if to grab his arm, but he pulled it out of reach. Okay, maybe he hadn’t said anything amusing. Maybe Ms. Rooney was trying to work some wiles. Dub was the worst possible target for that.
