Chapter 29: Ch 29 - Oddly Calm

Marke walked into the next management tent he found where an ant person performed the audit on his name tag. When he passed the audit, Marke didn’t leave right away.

“I want to apply to work for the fair.” Marke said.

The ant person didn’t have the right facial features to make human expressions, but her body language showed surprise. “You want to work for the fair?” She said. “Why would you want to work for the fair?” her antennae twitched a few times and she pulled one down to groom with her mandibles.

Marke hesitated a moment, distracted by the ant person’s antennae. “Um, I heard you get room, board, and some security.” He said.

“So? Why would you want that?” She asked again.

Marke’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why would I not want that? What do you think I want?” He asked.

The ant person stared at him for several seconds. She pulled a piece of paper from a drawer and slid it towards him. “Sign this to join the fair.” She said.

Ok, reading that is critical. Kente said. Marke agreed. He picked up the piece of paper. It was covered with the same tiny wording in an unknown language that had covered the back of his first name tag.

“I can’t read this.” Marke said, pushing the paper back towards the ant person. Her antennae began waving back and forth and her mandibles clacked.

She pulled the paper off the desk and replaced it in a drawer. “I don’t think the fair is right for you.” She said. She gestured towards the tent door. “Have a good day.”

“What are you not telling me?” Marke said. He began to feel angry and his voice grew louder as he spoke. “Why is nothing ever explained clearly in this whole stupid fair? Did I miss some tutorial when I got my name tag? What is it?” He planted his palms on the desk and glared at the ant person.

The ant person clacked her mandibles and groomed her antennae. Marke thought she looked nervous. Eventually she whispered something. Marke leaned forward, and she repeated it. “You should go see the elk.” She said.

“Where is-” Marke started to say but was interrupted by the ant slamming a hand on her desk. With the loudest voice she had used so far, she yelled, “HAVE A GOOD DAY. GOODBYE.” She gestured emphatically at the tent door. Marke left.

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“I’m so tired of this place.” Marke complained to Kente. “At least we finally found something for basket weaving.” Marke sat on ferris wheel, weaving together a set of colorful streamers he won from one of the higher leveled games. A pile of short sticks that used to connect to the streamers sat next to him on the bench. The act of basket weaving soothed Marke’s mind in a way nothing had since arriving in this realm. As the basket grew in size, the clashing colors of the fair grew slightly muted and the noise softened.

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“Am I seeing things, or did the fair just get remarkably more tolerable?” Kente asked.

“Yeah, I think it did.” Marke said. He traded a few tickets for another go-around on the ferris wheel so he could finish the basket. He twisted several streamers together to make a shoulder strap and tied it to the edges of the basket. When the ferris wheel came to a stop again, he put the leftover sticks in his new bag and walked away. As he walked, he marveled at how the sky looked almost normal–more like a red sunset than an eye melting neon magenta. Marke’s mind felt so clear he briefly wondered if he was dreaming.

“This is almost nice.” Marke said. “I’m going to make another basket.” Marke went back to the game with the streamers and won another batch. The worker gave him multiple odd looks, but didn’t object. Marke returned to the ferris wheel and whipped up another basket. The next day, Marke spent the last of his tickets to win supplies for three more baskets. With each basket he completed, Marke found the fair around him grew more vague and colorless. When Marke finished the last basket, the ferris wheel disappeared, and he found himself surrounded by fluffy white clouds.

“Marke…” Kente said. “Where did we go?” He asked.

Marke looked around. He felt oddly calm, which didn’t seem right. He looked down at himself. He was wearing a white robe and sandals. Marke laughed a bit at the unexpected sight, but the mirth seeped out of his mind and he returned to calm. Someone cleared their throat, catching his attention.

Marke looked towards the sound and saw a ticket person sitting at a desk. The ticket person had the same scaly skin, but this time there were a mixture of white and silver with a white robe like Marke’s and no hat. “Step right up.” The ticket person said, calmly. There was no shouting it out like the ticket persons in the ticket booths. Marke walked slowly over to the desk. The ticket person held out their hand. “Your name tag, please.” They said.

Ask them why. Kente said. Marke didn’t really see the need, but Kente sounded sure. “Why?” Marke asked.

“To enter the heaven portion of this realm, your name tag must be converted.” The not-ticket person said. “Your name tag, please.” They said again.

Marke reached up for his name tag but Kente interrupted again. Ask it what ‘converted’ means, Marke. Marke hesitated, then asked the question. “What does ‘converted’ mean?”

A small pamphlet appeared on the desk and the person handed it to Marke. “Please read this pamphlet.” They said.

Marke took the pamphlet. Once again, it was written in the small alien writing. “I can’t read this.” Marke said.

The clouds seemed to flicker for a second, and a button appeared. The person pressed the button. “Please wait for security.” They said calmly. Marke nodded, also calm.

“Uh oh!” Kente said, not calm. “What do we do? Can we run? I don’t even see anything other than this desk. We still have the bag–put the bag over their head and run away!” Kente yelled.

Marke frowned. “That would be rude.” He said aloud.

The ticket person stared at him. “What would be rude?” They asked.

“Putting my bag over your head and running away.” Marke explained. “Also, you might melt me if I do that.”

“Marke! What are you doing???” Kente sounded very panicked.