The two-lane drive past the Freight House was closed to traffic. Booths lined it on either side. Bare Snow pointed in excitement at them. Jewelry. Handcrafted toys. Hot food. Games of chance. Everything locally grown and crafted.
The tenth booth in was Usagi’s household. They were doing a simple ring-toss game with very cute, handmade, stuffed rabbits as prizes. All the half-elf kids were there, wearing rabbit hats that covered their pointed ears.
“Law!” The oldest, Moon Rabbit, bounded up to Law. The girl was going through a neon pink phase. She had on a bright pink rabbit onesie in lieu of a rabbit hat. “Law! Law!” She bounced up and down, making her ears and big cottontail flop. “Where’s big sister?”
Law wasn’t sure how anyone could miss the sexiest thing on two legs pulling a porcupine in a large red wagon. She could hear Brisbane complaining that he’d finished his apple. She glanced behind her and spotted the flash of red. “Right there.”
The children launched themselves at Bare Snow and Brisbane with squeals of excitement that could shatter glass.
“You’re here alone?” Law asked as Usagi hugged her.
“Clover is home with the two babies. Babs had a baby to deliver in the South Hills. Hazel is at work. The EIA worked some deal to get all the bakeries in town flour from the Westernlands. They’re paying her in food that we desperately need. Widget got hauled off by a boy from the bakery; something about life and death and needing her computer skills.”
It left Usagi outnumbered five to one.
“Do you need help?” Law felt she needed to ask even though babysitting wasn’t her strong suit.
Usagi waved off the offer. “Hazel will take them home after she gets off work. I told them they could stay until dusk. They’ve been sewing rabbits for a week, it’s the least I can do.”
“They made these?” Law picked up one of the stuffed toys.
“The older kids did.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “The bunnies that the little ones made were really ugly so we’re going to give them to any annoying drunks that win.”
They had a solid barrier to prevent cheating, painted with happy bunnies to disguise the fact that it was a deterrent. A tape measure and graph paper showed that Usagi had left nothing to chance. She had everything carefully mapped out to maximize her profits.
“What do you expect to clear?” Law said.
Usagi looked slightly worried. “We need this to pay for heat this winter. We were screwed out of a lot of money when we were cut off from Earth. July is our biggest jam production run and we collect on those deliveries in August at Shutdown.” Which never happened.
Usagi picked up one of the bunnies. “Each bunny is a sock with some stuffing and two beads for eyes. The socks were free; the cuffs were frayed. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with six hundred pairs of socks but free is free. We’re charging a quarter a game with a win ratio of four to one. I’m hoping to make close to a thousand dollars.”
It was a drawback of living in a commune large enough to take Usagi’s sprawling household of five women and their seven children. All the women pitched in money and time but it was Usagi that figured out how to make it all work. It would scare Law silly to have so many people dependent on her.
Law was good at rescuing damsels in distress. “If you want, we can rig up some kind of wood burner. They’re not that hard to make. I can get you a cord of firewood before it starts to snow. It would be good to have, anyhow, in case the power goes off.”
Usagi hugged her hard. “Thank you, Law. You’re a lifesaver.”
Law turned around to discover Bare Snow was passing out their fish. “What are you doing?”
“Little sister Moon Rabbit wanted a pesantiki but she didn’t have any money to play the game,” Bare Snow stated calmly. “And it would not be fair just to give one to her and not to the others. We have many. A few will not be missed.”
The children had found clear plastic drinking cups and stood huddled around the wagon.
Law could not say no. Bare Snow had spent hours catching the fish; she had the right to give some away. Bare Snow liked playing big sister; it gave her the family that she’d always wanted. Law suspected too that it wasn’t frivolous pretending. Moon Rabbit looked six years old when she was in her teens. If the children continued to age slowly, they’d need Bare Snow in a few decades.
The children “ooohed” and “ahhhed” over the little gleaming gold fish with large flowing fins.
“I’m sorry,” Law murmured to Usagi. She’d learned long ago that it was a bad thing to give pets to children. Parents hated you for it.
“It’s okay. I have a big aquarium somewhere in our basement. A biology student was throwing it out instead of taking it back to Earth. Free is free.”
Law felt a little less guilty.
* * *
Bare Snow’s long blue-black hair was up in Sailor Moon twin ponytails when they left Usagi’s booth. They found Tiffani still struggling to hang the decorations on her booth.
“What a stupid time to break my arm,” Tiffani complained.
“There’s a good time?” Law took the banner and tacked it firmly into place.
“Don’t make me hit you.” Tiffani raised a thick cast on her right arm. She’d painted it with roses and thorns to match the sleeve tattoo that it covered. “It will hurt both of us more than we want.”
“Are you going to need help to run your booth?” Law asked.
“Nah, once the decorations are up, it’s just collect the money, pass out nets, and wrap up winnings in plastic bags. I could do it in my sleep. Thanks for getting me fish. I would have been shit out of luck and fifty bucks.”
Tiffani smelled strongly of marijuana.
“You sure?” Law asked.
“What? Oh!” She sniffed herself. “That! I only wish I was high at the moment. The hospital wouldn’t give me anything for the pain. It’s either moonshine or weed. Marijuana isn’t any worse than Nyquil in terms of stuff like driving or cooking. Moonshine? Oh, that stuff kicks me on my ass.”
“Nothing for pain?”
“They’re saving it for when the fighting gets serious. I’m like ‘Serious? What are you calling all the bodies piled up on the sidewalks?’ And they’re like ‘That’s just oni dead. We don’t treat oni. We’re talking human causalities.’ What bullshit. Half of the EIA are oni. Whatever. I’m really hating this; the pain makes me a bitch on wheels. I’m going to be fun tonight with sixty zillion screaming little kids and drunk guys going ‘I’ll get you a freaking fish’ and looking like assholes because they can’t and being mad about it. After a while, I just want to stuff the fish down their throats.”
“Are you sure you don’t need help? I don’t want to be bailing you out of jail again. You would have been deported if Johnnie Be Good had pressed charges.”
“I am fine! And the pervert had that ass-kicking coming.”
Law had to agree to that.
“I don’t want to be high for this.” Tiffani leaned close to whisper. “So far both sides are leaving humans out of the fighting but I figure that’s only going to last so long. Beer, food and music in one place? Half of Pittsburgh is going to be here tonight. It makes for a damn big target.”
Law’s insides churned at the thought. According to the newspapers, the oni had kidnapped, tortured, raped, and eaten an unknown number of elf children. The Skin Clan troops fought on the sly, setting traps and using people as bait. She hated the idea of these people targeting the festival for no other reason than to pit the humans against the elves.
“I’ve got my escape route planned. I didn’t park over there.” Tiffani pointed toward the Hooters lot that served as main parking for the festival. Station Square’s five-storied garage was slated to be a makeshift beer hall for all the microbreweries. “The way I figure it, everyone’s going to either be running to their cars, or to the incline or to the light-rail and things will be all jammed up.” She shifted to point at the low chain-link fence that ran along
side Station Square. On the other side was the Elfhome main line. A second temporary fence had been erected beyond the tracks to protect people from jumpfish. “The train tracks are right there, close enough to touch. I parked downriver at the freight yard and walked up to here. If the oni attack, all I need to do is grab my cashbox and go. Sorry, fish.” She pretended to wave goodbye to the pesantiki. “You’re dead meat.”
Tiffani was right about the escape routes that the masses would take. Usagi would need to take the incline; it was the only direct way to get up to her place at the top of Mount Washington. There was a meandering back road on the other side of the ridge, but Usagi hadn’t brought a car at the festival.
Law shifted uncomfortably as the possible targets shifted closer to her heart. She wanted to rage out into the city and make sure that no harm came to her close friends. “You’ve got my number. If anyone causes any problems or acts weird or you think that something fishy might be in the works, call me.”
* * *
Ellen’s tiny-house lunch counter was sitting on prime real estate across the street from the parking garage. Her trailer had been tucked beside the porte-cochere of the old Sheraton Hotel. She’d set up picnic tables under the porch roof and the scent of a wood grill was floating up from the back.
“Oh, please tell me that you found chestnuts!” Ellen said in greeting.
“Of course I did. Fifty pounds.” Law lifted the five-gallon buckets out of the wagon. Elfhome and American chestnut trees had hybridized to create a larger, sweeter nut that ripened earlier. “I want my buckets back but I can wait until Monday.”
“Here, taste this.” Ellen held out a bratwurst in a bun.
It was an explosion of taste in Law’s mouth. “That’s good. Is that a honey mustard sauce? That’s really good. What kind of bread is that?”
“Bean flour,” Ellen cried. “I could not track down any wheat so I ground some dried navy beans. I’m allergic to wheat so I use it for myself all the time.”
“It’s good. Just different.”
“I know it’s good; I wouldn’t sell it if it wasn’t good. It’s just that people don’t like different; that’s why I wanted the chestnuts. I need to sell something to make up the cost of the booth.”
“People will buy it,” Law stated. “Pittsburghers will eat anything that doesn’t bite them back. The rest will be too drunk to notice.”
Ellen laughed. “I hope you’re right. I’m short on money; all I have are ones and fives for the cash box. Can I pay you when you pick up your buckets?”
Ellen normally prided herself on paying up front. It had been a hard summer on everyone with the military lockdowns, but hardest on people like her. Between being cut off from their regular providers and their customers hoarding cash for the winter, small business owners were struggling.
“Sure, no problem,” Law said
“How much do I owe you?” Ellen asked.
“Twenty bucks.”
Ellen smacked her.
“Ow! What’s that for?” Law cried.
“I am not a charity case. You’ve got two mouths to feed.”
“We eat very well.” Bare Snow had odd ideas as to what a proper diet was. Every meal had to have like thirty ingredients in it. Meat. Grains. Vegetables. Fruits. Spices. All mixed together into little froufrou dishes. “This morning, we had baked apples stuffed with bacon, onions and goat cheese.”
“Oh, that sounds good. Get me the recipe.”
The recipe seemed to be whatever strayed into Bare Snow’s hand, but it was probably more premeditated than that.
“We’re making money hand over fist off the enclaves,” Law said. “We might be the only people in Pittsburgh currently doing well. I don’t need to make a profit off my friends. Besides, if I charge you less, you can charge your customers less, and people will have more fun at the festival. Pittsburgh needs that.”
Ellen hugged her hard. “You are a good person, Law. Thank you. These last few weeks have been an utter roller coaster ride. Everyone has been hunkered down in the South Hills, waiting to see if the worst is over yet. I’ve got all these bratwurst, no customers, and no way to freeze the bloody things. I would have been sunk if the Changs hadn’t pulled out of the festival.”
“They pulled out? Why?”
“I don’t know. Vinnie called saying that one of the Chang boys had roughed him up for the money they put down last year to hold their normal slot.”
The Changs traditionally sold meat-on-a-stick at fairs. They put their restaurant-honed skills to use by marinating skewers of chicken, saurus and wild boar in teriyaki sauce and cooking them on massive wood-fired grills. Because they could pump out large amounts of great-tasting food, they usually had the best location at any festival. It explained Ellen’s prime real estate.
What Ellen obviously didn’t know was that the Changs were half-oni. Law had only put all the clues together a few days before Tommy Chang threw in with the elves. She nearly had whiplash as her long history with the Chang family underwent a drastic rewrite.
What happened that made the Changs pull out of the festival? Had this happened after Trixie called demanding apples to candy? Or was this before, and thus the whole reason Trixie was suddenly scrambling to put together a booth at Oktoberfest?
The big eight-foot-long zalituus horns had reached the end of the bridge and started to blow, signaling that the shrine was nearing the end of its journey. Bare Snow started to bounce in place.
“I’ve got to go!” Law said. “See you Monday!”
The elves that were working booths drifted toward the front entrance, summoned by the horns. Most of the humans were like Law; if they had the time, they would go see the pageantry that the elves were creating. It wasn’t their religion so they could easily miss it if they were too busy. A handful of humans countered with human traditions, plastering pilgrim hats and turkeys everywhere despite the fact it was only September.
Law pointed at the back of Ellen’s tiny house. “Bare Snow, you can leave that wagon here and go see the shrine installed.”
Bare Snow pointed away from the entrance. “No, I want to get funnel cake!”
“Funnel cake?” Law glanced up the street. Yes, three booths up, a bunch of high school students were drizzling batter into hot oil to make the tangled-ribbon cakes. Judging by the “Team Big Sky” banners and their remarks, the kids were younger siblings of the team members who were out looking for Oilcan. The team captain, John Montana, wisely decided that the search was too dangerous for the teenage kids.
“Moon Rabbit says funnel cake is heavenly and I should get lots,” Bare Snow said.
And share it when they passed Usagi’s again. In certain regards, Moon Rabbit was very much her mother without any brakes.
Law doubted that this funnel cake would measure up to previous years’. Just about anything fried and covered with sugar, however, would be heavenly to a child. “Go on. I’ll deliver the apples.”
Hopefully Trixie was somewhere ahead.
* * *
When Law was nine years old, her parents had declared that she was too wild and unmanageable for them to handle. They sent her bouncing between various family members as they focused on throwing hissy fits of mutual selfishness that ended with their divorce. Years eleven and twelve she spent as an unwilling slave to her grandfather, up to her elbows in grease, rebuilding the Dodge and listening to his war stories of setting up the railroad on Elfhome. She ended her servitude by explaining in detail her budding attraction to girls.
She celebrated her freedom by roaming the city all summer, looking for someone to put words into deeds.
She found Trixie, hiding from the oni, not that Law knew that at the time. Trixie had been half-starved, physically scarred, shockingly knowledgeable about all things sexual, and desperately in need of saving. The girl tripped every trigger that Law didn’t know that she had. Law fell hard but she was never sure where she stood in Trixie’s heart. All the secrets that Trixie refused to tell Law se
emed like proof that the girl didn’t care about her.
It was embarrassing to realize that Trixie had been keeping Law safe from her own stupidity. Law hadn’t been able to imagine anyone that she couldn’t level with her fists or trusty “Lady Luck” baseball bat. The oni could have easily killed Law or worse. Law never even imagined worse; she had been too naïve.
Life since June had been an education on worse.
At the very end of the street, right before it opened up to the amphitheater space, Law found the Chang girls. Trixie and three of her younger female cousins were nervously pacing behind a makeshift counter. Hand-painted signs read CANDY APPLES $2.
“Where the hell have you been?” Trixie cried in greeting. She rocked a girly tomboy look with her black hair cut pixie-short, red tank top that flaunted her arm muscles, and tight faded blue jeans. She wasn’t starving to death like when they first met, but her jeans made it obvious that she was still painfully skinny. “We couldn’t heat the candy until we had the apples.” She used her cigarette to light a propane burner. “After we coat the apples, we need to let them cool. We really needed an hour prep time and the shrine is already here.”
Law ignored the bitchiness; Trixie was between a rock and a hard place. “I found a small McIntosh orchard that everyone missed.” With an uncertain winter looming in front of them, everyone in Pittsburgh was gleaning abandoned farms for fruit. Law was needing to range farther and farther out. “I know this won’t last you the whole weekend, but it should get you through today and tomorrow. I’ll hit the orchard again and get you more.”
Trixie flicked her cigarette onto the asphalt and ground it out with her red ballerina flats. “Tell me where it is and I’ll send someone out to it.”
“It’s near the Rim…”
“They’ll have guns.” She picked up one of the apples. “If it was rice, it’d be no problem, but you try to explain the difference between McIntosh and Red Delicious to these idiots, you get a blank look.”