Page 2 of The Life and (Medieval) Times of Kit Sweetly

He snorts. “Good luck with that. They’re looking for easy solutions like coupon nights or senior brunch Wednesdays. If you want to keep your job, you’ll keep your head down, work your shifts, and let it go.”

“I can’t believe you’re being such a jerk.”

Len stands up and adjusts the blue velvet cloak around his shoulders. Under the arena’s torches, it almost looks regal, but here under the fluorescents, I can see all the places where the velvet has worn thin. Company policy also requires us to buy our own costumes, and even the King can’t afford to replace his cloak more than once a year.

“If you weren’t my niece, I’d fire you for talking to me like that. Now get back on the floor. You’ve got Eddy Jackson and his buddies in your section tonight. And the show’s starting soon.”

Eddy Jackson is a former NFL player who loves the Castle with an inexplicable passion. He’s here at least once a month, and he always brings his kids or a bunch of his buddies (usually more former pro athletes). Having Eddy in my section means good tips, but that still doesn’t mean I’m ready to give up the idea of knighthood.

Almost as if Len planned it, three loud trumpet bursts ring out from the speaker above our heads. That’s our cue to get into places because the show starts in twenty minutes.

“We’re not done with this,” I say, shooting my uncle a look. “I’m gonna come up with a plan you can’t veto.”

“Get over it, kid. You’ll be headed off to that fancy California college soon. I don’t know why you care so much about being a Knight.”

I need the pay raise! I want to scream at him. So I can afford that fancy college. And also, is it so wrong that I want to save the day for once? Or at least spend a shift getting cheers, not beers? Even if all we do here is fake?

“The California college just rejected me,” I mutter as I push open the heavy wooden door of Len’s office. “As did every other school so far. I’m holding out hope for Marquette.”

Len waves a hand. “You’ll get in somewhere. And you can always go to community college like Chris did.”

I let out a frustrated noise, fighting my urge to punch Len in his smug face. It’s a super low blow to talk about my brother’s situation. When he’s not being the Red Knight, Chris juggles two other jobs and takes night classes at the community college. He put his life on hold because my dad—Len’s brother—walked out on us for good two years ago, cleaning out our college funds and leaving my mom with a mortgage payment and a bunch of bills.

I scowl at Len. He knows all this, but he has less empathy than a concrete block. Len the Bold prides himself on his ability to “tell it like it is.”

Jackass.

A voice squawks through the walkie-talkie on Len’s desk, cutting me off. “WE’VE GOT A BIRTHDAY AT TABLE 4-GREEN. NEED TO GET A KNIGHTING CEREMONY ADDED ASAP.”

Len picks up the walkie. “Go get ready, Kit. Mingle with the guests and call your brother. Tell him to get his ass backstage immediately or he’s fired.”

2

ONCE I’M IN THE HALLWAY OUTSIDE LEN’S OFFICE, I TAKE a deep breath to steady myself. My moment of calm is interrupted by another trumpet blast from the loudspeaker. Almost showtime.

Right. Got to get rid of these flyers and find Chris. As I walk toward the employee bulletin board, I glance down at one, really reading its message for the first time.

HEAR YE, HEAR YE!

GOT A SUGGESTION FOR GETTING MORE PEOPLE TO THE CASTLE?

WE WANT TO HEAR IT! EMAIL US YOUR THOUGHTS, PLANS, DREAMS, AND SCHEMES BY APRIL 1ST. WE’LL CONTACT YOU SHORTLY AFTER THAT IF WE THINK YOU’RE ON TO SOMETHING. IF WE USE YOUR IDEA AT THE CASTLE, YOU’LL GET A CASH BONUS!

There’s a generic email address at the bottom of the flyer, but no more details on what kinds of ideas they’re looking for or how much the bonus might be.

Shoving the flyer into my pocket, I make a list in my head, because that’s how I process things.

• April first is in two days, so I don’t have much time.

• I need the cash. No matter how much it is, I could definitely use it for something.

• And I have an idea—maybe not a totally fleshed-out idea, but at least I know what needs to change around here.

• What I don’t know is how to translate it into getting more people to our shows.

I mean, let’s face it. I can’t just tell the Castle higher-ups: “Hey, you should let anyone who wants to be a Knight try out. And also, maybe, let’s do a little bit more to educate people about the truth of the Middle Ages.”

I can hear them laughing at me already. What I need to do is something stronger. Something more concrete. Something that will show them this idea will translate to both audience excitement and raising the bottom line.