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Chapter 2: The Journey Begins

Jack paused at the door, then set the alarm code and locked the door behind him. He received the notice about expecting an increase in burglaries, since campus security was at a minimum for the summer, and didn't want to take any chances. He walked down the stairs, then rounded the corner to the door leading to the parking garage. Jack walked to his car, then opened the door and sat down in the driver's seat, still trying to get used to sitting on the left side of the car.

He turned the key in the ignition, then found K-Rock, still amazed the station would come in at that far of a distance from New York City. He pulled out his handwritten directions, and propped them on the dashboard, then waited for the air conditioning to start working. A few minutes, and one quick once-over of the directions, later, and he backed out of his spot, turned, and drove out of the parking garage, Black Sabbath blaring from his car speakers. He took a moment, as he turned onto the highway, to pause in thought.

"What will I become? What role will they have for me? What will I be good at in a place like that? At least I can use swords. Ah, the joys of having SCA geeks as parents, who decided, after a night of binge drinking and watching Monty Python ('Welcome to All Things Scottish, where if it isn't Scottish, it's CRAP!'), that it would be a great idea to pick up their new family and move overseas, from their house in the tiny town of Trooper, Pennsylvania, part of the massive Philadelphia suburban sprawl, to Glasgow, Scotland."

So they had put the house up for sale, and three months later, the Solace family, Jack and his parents, Megan and James, were on a plane across the Atlantic to start fresh in a new land. Jack, of course, could barely remember the seven months he had lived in the States as an infant, seeing only brief glimpses of his birth home in dreams from time to time, but somehow found it fitting that he had returned here to go to university.

He let his thoughts wander as he drove, almost automatically, towards Tuxedo, in the New York wilderness, checking the directions periodically. When K-Rock began to fade out, he reached into his glove box and pulled out his Discman and the cassette adapter, and pushed the false cassette into the ancient tape deck in the console.

The tape heads clicked a few times, the ancient gears grinding slowly into life as he pressed play on the CD player, finally engaging as the beginning chords of ".execute." began to screech out of his speakers. The old Citation was rusted out and slowly breaking, but it had a good speaker system, and the lynx turned the volume knob up to full. Jack lit a cigarette, and then a joint he had rolled for the drive before going to bed the night before.

The cat took a long drag from the joint, rolling down the window before exhaling, as he noticed ".execute." coming to its crescendo, Corey Taylor screaming over the cacophony, "Where is your glory now people?" Another hit from the joint, then a drag from the cigarette by the lynx, as he turned onto another, smaller highway on the way out into the country. "All freedom is lost! ALL HOPE IS GONE!" The power chords signaling the start of "Gematria (The Killing Name)" began to blast over the speakers as Jack cruised down the highway, smoking and listening to Slipknot on his way toward his destiny.

An hour into his drive, he remembered that he had neglected to eat his "breakfast" that morning, shuddering at the thought of inflicting that mass of synthesized nutrient foam upon his digestive system, and not liking the potential results, and started to look for signs indicating a rest stop, or at the very least, a gas station. A few miles down the road, he saw an blue sign that said "Rest Area Ahead - 2 mi."

"Perfect."

Jack clicked his right turn signal on, then changed to the right lane, slowing down a bit as he approached the exit toward the rest area, and sustenance, or what passes for it, on the highway. "Rest Area Ahead - 1 mi." He slowed down to exit speed, clicking his right turn signal on again, and merging into the exit lane. Following the signs for automobile parking, he turned to the right and found a parking spot. Breathing a sigh, he stretched, then turned off the ignition. He unfastened his seat belt, and got out of the car, locking the door and walking toward the decidedly American invention of a freeway rest stop.

He entered the cavernous building and scanned the area, his golden eyes settling on a Hardee's, where he walked up to the counter, and randomly ordered a breakfast sandwich combo by number, not really knowing what his selection was, and not really caring. They all tasted the same anyway, and he was certain he wasn't going to enjoy it. He was hungry. He wasn't looking for award winning food when it wouldn't exist long enough for him to even prove its existence in the first place.

He took his bag and his cup of coffee, and walked over to a booth, figuring he might as well relax for the five minutes it would take him to eat the miniscule sandwich, and the small chunks of deep-fried shredded potatoes. Jack opened his breakfast sandwich and began eating, popping a hash brown into his muzzle every few bites of the sandwich. There was only one other patron in the seating area while he was eating, a grey wolf who looked around his age, and who was, similarly, quickly wolfing down (no pun intended) his anonymous breakfast sandwich, round potato chunks, and coffee. As predicted, within five minutes, the sandwich, hash browns, and half of his coffee was gone. He went back to the drink stand for a refill on his coffee, and hit the rest room before heading back to his car.

Jack fished the keys out of his pocket and opened his car door, climbing in and setting his coffee into the cup holder. The key in the ignition, the feline kick-started the old Chevy into life.

Grabbing the wheel in one hand, he looked over his shoulder to the left as he backed out of the parking spot, and heard a sickening metallic and plastic crunch as he slammed on the brakes, the rear passenger side fender becoming one with the front passenger side fender of an older model Dodge conversion van, and his coffee spilling all over the console and down his legs, burning them and making a total mess of his lower legs in the process. "Ow, FUCK! Whose brilliant idea was it to put the cup holder at crotch level, anyway? Good thing it wasn't a side impact. That would have burned. Shit, now what just happened?"

Jack threw the gearshift into park and stepped out of the car, lost in thought, and trying to compose himself enough to exchange information with the other driver. "What else can go wrong?"

To his surprise, the other driver, the same handsome grey wolf from Hardee's, got out to survey the damage, then laughed. "Wow. I'm sorry, dude. I'm really sorry," Jack said, pleading in his eyes as he approached the wolf. "I'm late for an interview, and I didn't see you, and..."

"Hey, dude, no harm, no foul. Don't worry about it. I have no damage, but it would seem you won't be going anywhere, at least not in your car. Looks like your fender tried to merge with your wheel."

Jack walked around his car, and surveyed the damage to his car. "Fuck, and I need to be in Tuxedo really soon."

"Tuxedo? An interview? You mean the Renaissance Faire? We're holding auditions, after all." The wolf looked at the lynx's car, then shook his head, "You're not gonna be driving anywhere in that thing without a body shop spending a couple hours on it with a sledge. It just so happens I'm headed the same way. I can give you a lift there, and back at the end of the weekend, if you can find arrangements until then."

"Can you wait a few, so I can call a tow truck, and have my rolling rust bucket towed home?"

"Sure. I'm not due in til later, anyway. Let me call them, though, and let them know to expect you. I wouldn't want this to keep you from getting a chance to have fun with us this summer. Especially since I wasn't looking where I was going."

The wolf smiled at Jack, and winked, then pulled out his cell phone, and searched through his address book, walking out of earshot to make the call. In the meantime, Jack walked into the rest stop, and, looking through a phone book to find a AAA-authorized tow service, dialed the number on his cellular phone, thankful that he had purchased a Gold membership, and was less than 100 miles from home. A few minutes of exchanging information with the dispatcher later, he returned outside to wait with the wolf at his broken Chevy.

Jack stood by his car, surveying the damage and waiting for the as-yet-unnamed wolf to return from his phone call. He realized, with more than a sinking suspicion, that his car was likely toast, and this was not going to go well with his plans of continuing to deal with the real-life incarnation of Pizza Mofos in a driving capacity for a while. He would have to return to the line, and make pizzas all day. What seemed like an hour later, but was in reality only a few minutes, the wolf returned.

"Well, I called the Lord of the Faire. He said not to worry, and just to get there as soon as we can. He's looking forward to meeting you, by the way." The wolf smiled, "Though I had no name to give him, as I have not yet been graced by the pleasure of it."

"Oh, I'm Jack. Jack Solace. Nice to meet you. You've been very kind..."

The wolf cut him off, "Nonsense. This is my fault. I insist on making things right. I'm David. David Thorne." He held out his hand, which the lynx took and shook firmly.

"The tow truck will be here in about a half hour. I just have to show them my AAA card. Want a cup of coffee while we wait?" Jack looked at the wolf, grinning sheepishly. "My treat. Besides, I need another one myself. I need to clean up, and check for burn damage to my lower extremities," he said sardonically.

David giggled. "How can I say no to free caffeine? Sure. I'll wait here, in case they come early."

"Thanks." He said, "Here's the card, in case they come while I'm inside." He rooted around in the back seat of his Citation, pulling out a hiking-style backpack, complete with blanket and bedroll, a small pillow, and a small, portable two-man tent, placing them next to the van. He also grabbed his music, and CD player, and shoved them into the backpack with the headphones and cassette adapter, just in case he wanted to listen to music during the now-extended trip to the renaissance faire.

"How do you like your coffee?"

"Damn, you come prepared! Three sugars, two creamers," said David, after a pause. "No, make that five sugars. It's a long drive," he said after a moment, smiling.

Jack smiled, and said, "I went camping last weekend. I was bored, because there was nothing to do around Bard, and I solved that issue by spending some time in the Adirondacks. I'll be right back." The feline walked into the shop, buying two large coffees and grabbing the creamers and sugar packets, before locating the bathroom to clean up the mess his last cup of coffee made of his lower half.

He set the two cups of coffee on the counter next to the sink, surveyed the damage. No serious burns, and no damage to the kilt, just a splash that he had to rinse out, and a few wet patches in the fur on his calves. His boots received the worst of the spill, but they were waterproof, and just needed to be wiped off.

Jack wet a few paper towels under the faucet and began cleaning the hot coffee off of his legs and kilt. Fortunately, the kilt didn't seem too much the worse for wear. A few dozen paper towels and ten minutes later, and he was back outside, as clean as he could be. The weather would take care of the water.

He walked over to the wolf, handing him the coffee and the bag of creamers and sugar, sipping his own coffee as he smiled at the wolf. "Here you go."

"Thanks," the wolf said upon being handed his steaming cup of coffee. "So, what is it you wanted to do at the faire?"

"I'm not really sure yet," the lynx said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Honestly, it just sounded like fun, and a great way to spend my weekends. After all, I love camping, and I love the Renaissance period."

"Are you interested in performing, or selling food or weapons?"

The cat wrinkled his nose, "I never was much of one for food service. Besides, I get the dubious pleasure of doing that all week long as it is. I'm a delivery driver, well, if my car survives. If not, then it's back to the line for me." He shrugged. "I've always wanted to just really get into something, really immerse myself, you know? I've just always been a little shy." He took a sip of his coffee. "I'm an arts and computer science double-major at Bard, so I don't really get much time to enjoy myself during the school year.

David looked up for a moment, thinking of something, "Bard, huh? I have a good friend who goes there. She's in the theater department. I go to RPI. Best engineering school I was able to find. Ever think about being a Court Jester, or an entertainer of some kind?"

"I don't know. I can't exactly play a keyboard and stay in period, and I've never had a normal sense of humor. I don't know if anyone would get my jokes."

"It's easy. Just look around you, and figure out something that isn't right, and call attention to it in a humorous or thoughtful way."

"I don't know. I don't want to offend anyone, especially not on my first day," Jack grinned.

"That's the beauty of it. Jesters can get away with just about anything. You just have to be quick on your feet. Literally."

"Why's that?"

The wolf smirked, "Ever try to dodge a tomato?"

"No"

The wolf grinned, "Trust me, it's not as easy as you'd think, and you don't want to get hit by them. They're messy, and the closest laundromat is a half hour drive away."

The lynx looked up at the wolf and smiled, then took a sip of his coffee, "I'm sure I could manage. I've dodged a lot worse in my day."

"Maybe we should try you out for that, then. Of course, you would start as an Apprentice, and after a while, you could even get your own show!"

"That sounds fun. I just wish the tow truck would get here. I hate being late."

"Don't worry about it. They'll wait for you. I put in a good word."

"Thanks, but you don't even know me. How can you know what to say?"

"I don't know. You may seem to have your head in the clouds a bit, but you also seem honest. You seem like a good person; someone I would want to sit around a campfire with, sharing a bottle of mead."

David grinned, which caused Jack to grin and blush a little under his fur. He had never been described that way before by anyone, and he felt his hope renewed. If only everyone at the renaissance faire was like this wolf, he'd have it made!

"Well, we'll see how it goes. I can't think of any better way to spend my summer, though, than camping out, and playing with swords and such."

"Oh, a fighter? I'm sure we can find a spot for you there, too."

"Well, I would like to start somewhere with less chance of losing a limb, if you don't mind."

The wolf giggled, "Jester it is, then. I'll see if I can take you under my wing. When you talk to the Lord, come see me, and I'll talk to him, too."

"Your wing?"

"I'm the Lord's Chief Jester, you know." David gave a bow, with a little flourish, to which Jack grinned.

"Well, then it looks like I ran into the right person... both figuratively and literally!"

"See?" the lupine grinned, "There's hope for you yet."

The tow truck arrived within the hour, and Jack walked over, while David pulled his phone out and made another phone call. Jack flashed his AAA card, and gave the driver the address for his apartment's parking garage, and his parking space, making sure the large brown bear got it correct. They waited as the bear hooked the pulley up to the Citation, pulling it onto the flatbed for easy transport, and drove down the highway toward Bard College. After the tow truck left, Jack and David climbed into the wolf's conversion van, David having thrown Jack's gear into the back of the van while he was cleaning up and buying the coffees. The lynx climbed up into the plush captain's chair on the passenger side, and leaned back as the wolf finished his phone call, then jumped into the driver's seat.

"So, how far did you drive to get this far?"

"Hmm?" Jack said absently.

"How far from that rest area is home for you?" The wolf leaned back in his seat, and backed out of the parking spot he had settled in while waiting for the tow truck, turning toward the exit of the rest area, and back onto the highway, Jack's poor Citation now on its way back to his apartment complex, for him to deal with when he returned on Monday. "Do you live on campus or something?"

"Oh, yeah..." The lynx turned and looked thoughtfully out the window for a minute. "I kinda have to. I was born near Philly, but my parents uprooted us to Glasgow, when I was seven months old. So I have an apartment across the street from campus. It's convenient, but it sucks once classes are over. There's nobody there."

"I actually don't live that far from you. I'm over in Albany after the school year. I drive to the faire every weekend. You know, if you want to chip in on gas, we could just vanpool to the faire every week until you can get your car fixed."

Jack chuckled thoughtfully, "Yeah, I might have to take you up on that. IF I get a role, that is. We're looking a little far ahead when I haven't even gotten there yet."

David winked at the lynx, "You forget that you're auditioning for my area of the Court. Relax, you'll be fine. Oh, we have one more stop to make. I already called her to let her know we're going to be a little late, and fill her in on what happened."

"Ok. Someone else who works at the faire?"

"Yup. She's one of our serving wenches, in the Inn. You'll like Christa. So, you live in Scotland?"

"I did, until I moved away for university. My mum and dad still live there. Since I was born here, I'm a US citizen, and in Scotland, I'm a dual citizen of the US and UK, so it makes visits easier. What makes them harder is the cost of airfare these days. Though I think I'm going to stay in the states after I graduate. More job prospects. I would go to Japan, but Japanese sounds terrible with a Scottish accent." He grinned, and David laughed. "So, what do you do for fun?"

David thought for a second, then said, "Well, during the school year, aside from SCA nights, all there really is to do is get stoned and play video games. Though I'm in computer engineering. I don't have a lot of free time aside from breaks."

"SCA, huh? My parents are old SCAdians. I kinda grew up with it." Jack grinned, and reached into his pocket. "Is it ok if I smoke in here?"

"Sure, just crack the window a bit, and toss the butt in the ashtray." He indicated an ash tray that already had several butts in it, and several that looked a lot like roaches.

"I have a few J's rolled for the ride. Good thing I grabbed them from the glove box with the rest of my stuff before my car was towed home."

David smirked, "Yeah, that would have been tragic."

Jack rolled up his window so he could light one of the joints, getting it going, and then lighting his Camel Crush cigarette to mask the smoke. He took a hit from it, and once it was burning well, handed it to David. The wolf took it from the lynx, and took a hit, holding it in his lungs as he passed the joint back.

"Not bad, is it? I get it from a guy near campus." He took a hit, passing the J back to David, letting the hit out and coughing a bit.

David took his hit and passed on the spliff, coughing a little himself. "Not bad. Better than what I usually get."

"At least he lives there, and didn't leave as soon as school was over." The cat took a deep hit off the joint, handing it back to the canine. "So, who's this Christa?"

"She's the friend I told you about who goes to Bard. She's a flying fox. Cute, too."

"Don't see too many of her kind. So she's a bar wench. Let me guess, drama major?"

"How'd you guess?" David asked, surprised that he had guessed correctly on his first try. He took his hit, then passed the joint back. It was getting short now.

"I took the most obvious stereotype of waitress and actress and put them together."

The lynx grinned and took his hit, then snuffed the roach, storing it in the ash tray for later. He took a drag off of his cigarette as David reached into his pocket and grabbed a pack of Newports, taking one out and lighting it. The van turned onto a smaller state highway, taking a slight detour deeper into farm country, continuing toward their next stop, and their next passenger.

"So," David said, turning toward his passenger, "Have you been up to these campgrounds before?"

"Not yet. It was on my list, though. I started camping back in Scotland. Lots of places to go there. Campsites here are so... structured. You guys even have showers most places. Up in the mountains in Scotland, there aren't as many... amenities. You find a stream, camp by it, and commune with nature."

"Sounds awesome. Yeah, we kinda compartmentalized everything here. The national parks even have concrete and asphalt everywhere. It's kinda depressing, when you think about it." The wolf took a drag from his cigarette, and flicked the ash out the window.

"I usually just go to the park, and park my car, then hike as far into it as I can until I find an out of the way site that has what I'm looking for, and set up camp. Flat, stable ground, room for a fire, a tree, and a stream. Perfect for a weekend away from everything, and should you choose it, everyone." Jack puffed his cigarette, then squeezed the filter. "These things are neat. They're Kools in the UK though."

"Yeah, I've seen them. They're like the transformers of cigarettes. Anything they can think of to make them more appealing." He rolled his eyes and took a final drag off of his cigarette, then snuffed it in the ashtray. "What kind of music do you like?"

"Oh, just about anything, really. I was listening to Slipknot in my car. I brought the adapter, CD player, and some CDs with me, and some headphones, for if I got bored. I forgot my iPod at home. Was in a hurry this morning, even though I was awake in plenty of time." The lynx took the last two drags off his Camel and extinguished it in the ashtray, turning to his forgotten coffee in the cup holder. "Almost forgot I had this." He took a sip from the paper cup.

"Oh yeah, I did too. I have a CD player, if you want to put something in."

"Sure. Let me find something good." He began rifling through his CD case, looking for a specific CD. "Do you like Kiss?"

"Yeah, they're cool. I kinda grew up on them. My aunt was a fan in high school. I even saw them once."

"You might like this, then." He slipped disc 1 of The Phantom of the Opera, starring Paul Stanley, from the Pantages Theatre in Toronto, into the CD player, waiting as the laser scanned the tracks, and settled onto track 1, the Auction.

"This sounds a lot like the beginning of Phantom." David's ears perked, he loved that musical.

"Very good. It is. With Paul Stanley as the Phantom. It's one of his rare performances with Sarah Brightman that was recorded."

"Sweet! I love this musical, and I know Christa won't object. Thought you might have to start it over when she gets in, and she's going to camp out in the van until it's over." David leaned back in his captain's chair, setting the cruise control as he took the exit onto the last access road on the way to Christa's house, a narrow, winding county highway.

Jack looked over at David, "How much longer until we get to her house?"

"Not long now. It's about twenty miles to her house from here, and then about fifty miles to the fairgrounds. We should at least get through Act I, even if we have to restart it." He started humming along with the title song, navigating the curves and hills of the seldom-used road.

"Glad I brought this CD with me."

Sarah Brightman's voice began singing Christine's first lines of the song, then she was joined by Paul Stanley's unmistakable voice. Both David and Jack sat in silence as they sang, mesmerized by their performance, even though Jack had listened to it dozens of times before. The musical continued as they drove along the road to the flying fox's house, and their eventual destination.

About twenty minutes later, they turned off of the county highway onto a side road, which lead up to a large field, a long driveway, and a large farmhouse, complete with a big red barn in the back. David turned the van into the driveway, and up to the house. Three cars sat in the driveway, two of them, an old Caprice Classic, and a Ford Torino, looked much the worse for wear. The third, a relatively nice El Camino, sat in front of the walkway to the front door.

David parked behind the El Camino, and pulled the emergency brake, turning off the engine, and opening his door. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Christa. Besides, she's probably going to need some help with her stuff."

Jack unbuckled his seat belt and hefted himself up from the very comfortable seat, opening his door and climbing out onto the gravel driveway. He and David closed their doors, and walked up the stone footpath to the door, where David pushed the button to the right of the heavy, oaken door to ring the doorbell. They stood there, waiting on the bat to join them.

"COMING! Be right there!" a high pitched, almost squeaky feminine voice yelled from somewhere in the house. The sounds of thumping could be heard, as Christa ran across the apparently hardwood floors, judging from the sounds of her feet on the floor. Some more thumping was heard, including a few larger thumps accompanied by brief tinkling sounds.

"This is going to take a few minutes, "commented David, being used to the flighty (again, no pun intended) bat's routine. It happened every year, especially the first week of the season. She was taking longer than normal this time, however, so he took out a Newport and lit it.

Jack followed suit and began on his own cigarette while they waited, the thumping, clattering sounds, and occasional loud thump followed by a muffled squeak. "I think she fell. Hardwood floors?"

"Yep. She can be a little klutzy sometimes."

"And she's the one serving the drinks at the bar, huh?"

"Yeah, and the food. She's surprisingly good at it." David continued smoking his cigarette, waiting patiently for the bat girl to finish her obviously last minute packing and preparation for the weekend ahead.

After a few minutes, the thumping and clattering stopped, and the door unlocked, swinging into the foyer. Behind it stood a bat, likely in her late teens or early twenties, with a wide grin on her face. Behind her was her camping gear, a suitcase, a plastic tote, two coolers, and three cardboard boxes.

"Hi Dave. I'm ready! Is this the new guy? Hi, I'm Christa. Can you guys help me get my stuff into the van? Be careful with the boxes and the coolers. Thanks for picking me up, Dave. I've missed you since last Faire. How have you been? It's been boring here. Well, let's go! Time's wasting, and I have a lot to set up when we get there!" She grabbed her suitcase and started carrying it to the van.

Jack tried to process, in a matter of moments, what it had taken David three years to sort over in his head; the reality of Christa. "That's...?"

David nodded, "Christa, yes. She kinda grows on you." He finished his cigarette, then stomped it out, and grabbed a box, carrying it to the van.

Christa returned for the plastic tote, and noticed Jack smoking his cigarette. "When you're done with that, can you start carrying the coolers for me? Thanks! I don't want the stuff in them getting too warm, and the van's got air conditioning and that'll help. I'll get the boxes and we'll get everything fit into the van really quick. Thanks..." She looked at Jack expectantly, pausing in mid-lift of a box of obviously glass bottles.

"Jack. Nice to meet you, Christa." He finished smoking and stomped out his butt, then lifted a VERY heavy cooler, grunting and straining as he carried it, half-dragging it, toward the van. He thought to himself, "This is going to be an interesting weekend. Hell, this is going to be an interesting DRIVE."