Page 83 of The Life and (Medieval) Times of Kit Sweetly

I know I can’t save him. It’s ridiculous to try. But this is what Knights do. Help where we can.

“I’ll try,” he says, picking up the money. Powdery bits of cocaine cling to it, and his hand twitches to his nose.

“See you around, maybe.” I turn away from him, waving over my shoulder.

“Kit,” he calls as I go. “Don’t let the cold world break you. You’re always my little girl.”

“I’m not,” I say, turning around. “And don’t worry. The world won’t break me. I’m the Girl Knight after all.”

That feels pretty much like the perfect exit line, so I leave it at that. The cheap metal door of the trailer slams behind me.

As I walk back to the car, I swipe away at the treacherous tears that leak from my eyes, getting rid of them before Chris can see.

39

LEN’S NOT AT HIS HOUSE. I RING THE BELL FOR LIKE FIVE minutes, but no one answers. I’m so frustrated with him, and my heart still hurts from seeing my dad, that it’s all I can do not to knock over one of the half dozen tacky fake Roman statues that line Len’s driveway. I settle for throwing a wad of chewing gum into the enormous fountain in his front yard.

I get back into the car. In the passenger seat, Chris holds on to the guitar, but he’s not said anything since we left Dad’s trailer. We’re apparently not going to talk about what happened with Dad. And that’s perfectly okay with me.

“Well, Len’s either hibernating, dead, or—”

“He’s at the Castle,” says Chris. He holds up his phone. “Penny had to run over there to work on the schedule and she told me he’s been there the entire time, pacing his office and talking to people from Corporate on the phone.”

“To the Castle we go then,” I say, backing the car out of Len’s driveway.

To my surprise, Len smiles when we walk into his office. “Ahh, my favorite niece and nephew.” His eyes go straight to the guitar and his jaw drops. “What can I do for you?”

It’s disconcerting to think that he’s totally forgotten what an ass he was yesterday.

“You’re in a good mood,” says Chris. He looks suspicious. “What’s going on?”

“Maybe there’s a sale on toilet paper at the Costco,” I say under my breath, knowing how much Len likes to flash his membership card like he’s hot shit for being able to shop there.

I help Chris into one of the chairs by the desk.

Len holds up an email he’s printed out. “I’m being considered for promotion to the Corporate office in Miami. Despite the initial email they sent you, Kit, someone in upper management really likes what we’re doing here for women’s rights and becoming more progressive. There’s talk that this might be the wave of the future at the Castles. They want me to move to Miami to get their program up to scratch.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re taking credit for my hard work?”

“No,” says Len. “I’m finally getting what I deserve. You already know the Corporate people are coming tomorrow, and although they said no to your proposed scheme, I’m going to authorize you to do a little demonstration. But, just you, Kit. You can ride out with the Knights, wave, and then head back. We’ll show them how the crowd loves you, and that should be enough to secure my promotion.”

“So, you’re giving me permission to ride out as part of the show, but not as a real Knight?” I can’t keep the disgust from my voice. “It’s all a great big sham of equality?”

“Exactly,” says Len. “That’s what Corporate wants, so that’s what they’ll get.” He hands Chris a pile of Workers’ Comp paperwork. “And here, Chris, fill these out. They should cover your bills. See, there you go. Uncle Len saves the day. Now give me my guitar.”

Chris and I share a look. He glances at the guitar. It feels like it should be harder to give something from our dad away, but it doesn’t even sting. Or maybe I’m just numb to all thoughts of my dad right now. I shrug and Chris hands it over. Len grabs the guitar, hungrily.

“One more thing, Chris,” he says as we turn to go. “My job is going to be vacant, and I put your name in the hat for it. I think you’d make an excellent King and general manager. Plus, you won’t have to ride a horse unless you want to.”

Chris stops in his tracks. He grips my sleeve with his good arm. “Are you kidding?”

Len shakes his head. “Serious as a heart attack. Make sure I get that promotion and my job is yours. It’s full benefits and seventy thousand a year.”

Chris looks stunned. “I’ll take it.”

“He means we’ll think about it,” I say taking his arm. “And I’ll ride out tomorrow. Don’t worry. I’ll give you a show that won’t soon be forgotten.”

“Just do as you’re told, Kit,” says Len. “Think you can handle that?”