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E.Z. wasn’t even that funny. Well, sometimes he was, but generally, he’s rather cheesy. Half the things he says would be obnoxious and unwelcome if said by any other man. The other things he says would generally make me roll my eyes. Coupled with a wink that says he knows precisely how charming he was and a grin that says he knows exactly what game he was playing, he was endearing— in a very E.Z. way.
I was both excited and apprehensive about an E.Z. with inhibitions. Today promised to be interesting.
The fair was being held on Market Street, one of the two main streets in the town. It took over the entirety of the town square. Dirt roads were lined with booths and tents. Business doors were open to the public, and their simple wares spilled into the streets. Games and food tents were spread around.
It was so much different than fairs back home. Well, what used to be my home. This was a fair for the ordinary people. It came without the expensive entry price or the need for elite skills to compete and became something everyone could enjoy. As I said, nothing like back home.
Ordinary citizens were voting on or doing ordinary things. Everyone had a chance to compete and have fun. You want to levitate your partner across an obstacle course race? That booth has just that game, but without the electric sides I was used to seeing.
E.Z. had asked to do that game, but I told him I’d like to take in the sights and look at all the colors instead. I never understood the appeal of that game for the one being floated along. Sounded painful. Now, the User? That sounded fun. I’d levitate someone. As the User, you didn't risk bumping into walls (or being electrocuted).
The atmosphere here was completely different from what I was used to. The fair was bustling with enough patrons to feel the excitement, but I could still move uninhibited. Children ran around in opposite directions while men and women worked together to corral them. They weren’t held on a tight leash by the judgmental eyes of everyone around them. They seemed so free out here. Happy.
We passed a woman operating the fresh fruit stand, a broad smile on her weathered face for every patron. It was always a man at the capital events.
E.Z. leaned close, whispering, “That is a heretics’ booth.” His eyes flicked to the fruit. “That fruit is not edible. It’s all poison.”
There was no way the woman overheard what E.Z. said, but she looked up, meeting my eyes. Hers narrowed in suspicion, and she lost her smile. E.Z. stood up straight and pulled me along faster.
“Do you not feel particularly welcome here?” I whispered so only E.Z. could hear, stepping closer to his side. The patrons and booth operators alike watched us with suspicion.
“People travel towards the capital, not the other way around, so they don’t get many visitors,” E.Z. explained. “They’ve learned the hard way to be suspicious of outsiders.”
“So why have a fair and invite the world if you don’t want them to come?”
“They need people to trade with. They depend on outsiders' patronage, even if they never truly trust their intent. It’s hard.” E.Z. pointed out a storefront. “There’s the bank.”
My eyes ran over the very obvious hair or beauty salon. Definitely not a bank. Wooden chalkboards hung from the windowsills with promotional messages and daily deals and a cute cartoon man with scissors in his hand, which had nothing to do with a bank.
I started to read out loud. “Get your cut from us.” I moved to the next sign. “You deserve it.” The next. “You can take on anything when looking good. It’s time for your cut.” I turned to E.Z. and chuckled. “Is the bank asking to be robbed with a slogan like that? Oh! Nice, this bank specializes in facial waxing. Wonder what their currency is.” I smirked at E.Z.. If ever I deserved to smirk, it was then.
E.Z. threw his head back and laughed. He had the most contagious laugh. When he starts, one can’t help but join in. It made me feel like I was funny. I had never felt funny before.
“Oh, look!” E.Z. exclaimed, pointing to the most hideous chicken I had ever seen. “There’s the town leader! Out here interacting with his constituents, kissing babies, and whatnot.”
I had never seen a grungier chicken. It was clearly underfed and losing feathers as it ran between people's feet.
I looked up at E.Z. with a raised brow. “Have you ever been to this town?” My lips slowly curled themselves into a smile.
“Nope! Come on, Kaia Lamb Chop! Seen one town, seen them all.”
E.Z. hugged me close, grinning down at me. The type of grin that made me want to grin back. It issued a challenge and guaranteed you would thoroughly enjoy yourself.
Since I accepted the challenge wholeheartedly, I had the joy of being shown Garberon for the first time by a man who either couldn’t read or lacked common sense. E.Z. pointed out buildings that were clearly labeled— and pointed them out incorrectly.
“Down that road right there is the theater district.” E.Z. indicated a dirt alley barely wide enough to fit a person, let alone a horse or cart. It could under no circumstances be misconstrued as a road. “It is down several blocks that way. You’ll meet some welcoming people down there.”
I peeked down the alley, laughing. “I’m fairly certain that’s a dead end. I doubt this town even has a theater. No one would come to the shows.” They’d never have the needed patronage to stay open. All theaters were at the capital or the towns directly surrounding.
“Kaia Venison, it’s not that kind of theater,” E.Z. chuckled, curling into me even further. I felt his laughter through every point of contact. E.Z. laughs with his whole body, and he does it without restraint. “This is… It’s more…” E.Z. sent me a salacious smile, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “… risqué.”
E.Z. laughed when I elbowed him and tapped my nose again.
“I almost prefer the stinker nicknames. I’m meat now?” I asked with narrowed eyes, trying to swat his hand away from my nose.
“I’m hungry.” He shrugged. “You look nice and tender and juicy enough to eat.”
I didn’t need to look at E.Z. to hear the amusement in his voice. He loved this.
