The Game Masters of Garden Place

by Denis Markell

  Gerontius looked at Persephone like she had two heads. Or possibly three.

  “Yes, well, my…daughter…that seems to be an issue….”

  “I want my focaccia now!” screamed little Oberon.

  “Of course, my darling,” cooed his mother. Turning to Rosa, she hissed, “Can’t you speed things up a little, please!”

  Persephone looked at Gerontius and shook her head. “Dad! Don’t tell me you left your wallet in our apartment again!” She turned to Rosa. “He does this all the time.”

  “Open another cash register!” someone shouted from the end of the line.

  “Sofia called in sick today! I’m the only cashier!” yelled the frazzled Rosa as the platter was deposited in front of her. She looked at Gerontius’s gray hair and then at his ice-gray eyes, which met hers with such power that she lost her breath.

  “Well…I guess…if you left it in your apartment…,” she stammered.

  “Of course it is in my apartment, as she said,” replied the wizard. “And we don’t want to keep these good people waiting, do we?”

  “FOCAAAACCIIIAAA!” came a wail from the floor.

  “What is an ‘apartment,’ by the way?” whispered Gerontius out of the corner of his mouth.

  “I’ll tell you later!” hissed Persephone.

  By now the sound from the floor had devolved into a sirenlike screech.

  “I haven’t heard anything like that since the screaming worms of the caverns of Kryll,” said Torgrim, holding his ears. “What is this fohkasheeyah that he finds so valuable?”

  Noel looked smug. “It’s a type of Italian bread.”

  “That’s twenty-five for the platter and another twenty for the two six-packs of ale,” the cashier said quickly, ringing them up.

  Persephone handed her the cash. “Next time, Dad, remember your wallet!” she admonished Gerontius, who smiled at the cashier as Jandia and Mirak grabbed their provisions.

  Bram shook his head. “A rogue in the making, I tell you. She’s a natural!”

  Exiting the store, Ralph led them down a quieter side street. He couldn’t handle any more of the adventurers’ attention-getting.

  Torgrim pulled at Noel’s sleeve. “So, what news did you hear in the tavern?”

  Noel sighed. “We didn’t.”

  “It was a room of bewitchment,” murmured Gerontius. “The patrons were enchanted, staring at those magic screens, cut off from the world. Very troubling. Perhaps a curse of some kind.”

  “My parents would agree,” said Jojo. “I’m only allowed to use mine for homework and on the weekends.”

  “You mean they do that voluntarily?” asked Mirak.

  “Not everyone is doing that,” protested Noel. “A lot of people are outside too.”

  “Ah, I see.” Gerontius nodded. “They have smaller ones they carry with them instead.”

  He gestured to the people passing them. It certainly did seem as though everyone was staring down at their phones instead of talking to one another.

  “Perhaps it is how their rulers control them,” Torgrim said, stroking his beard. “They give them visions that keep them amused and docile.”

  Ralph thought about this for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. But we don’t see it that way.”

  “Of course you don’t,” said Bram. “The enchanted ones never do! That is the beauty of it! The pig in the trough has no idea what’s in store for him either! He simply eats and rolls in the mud!”

  The kids looked at one another.

  “Wow. That’s kind of a creepy way to look at it,” said Cammi.

  “I do watch a lot of videos,” admitted Noel. “But I learn a lot too.”

  “You can learn more from living life itself, I warrant,” said Gerontius.

  “Your knowledge comes from books!” protested Ralph.

  “That is true. And there is also a danger to living one’s life with one’s head in a book,” admitted Gerontius with a small smile.

  “We do need knowledge, though,” said Mirak. “And I fear we will not find it on your magic screen, or even in the wizard’s magic book.”

  They waited at the corner. The light turned green.

  “That is the spell for the vehicles to stop and let us pass.” Gerontius nodded confidently. He started to cross the street, followed by the others. “I am starting to learn the ways of this world,” he said to himself.

  “Wizard!” Jandia called out, motioning in the direction of the street to their left. “Perhaps here is where we find knowledge!”

  They all looked in the direction she was pointing. A gaunt homeless man stood there holding a sign with PLEASE HELP scrawled on it.

  “Aha!” said Bram with delight. “A beggar! We shall certainly get something from him!”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” said Ralph.

  “Why not?” asked Mirak. “We always ask beggars for information. Sometimes you cross their palms with silver, or else—”

  “I know,” said Ralph impatiently. Anyone who had played Reign of Dragons more than a few times knew that at some point in every adventure a beggar would come along at exactly the right time and either give you the precise information you needed, or else make some prophecy that sounded odd, but once you figured it out, it provided the answer you were looking for.

  “It’s just that beggars…Well, we don’t really call them that. We call them homeless people, usually,” said Persephone.

  “But he’s asking for money,” said Noel, logical as always, “so isn’t he begging?”

  “He’s asking for money,” said Jojo, “but that’s…I don’t know, it’s not the same. He’s not a beggar.”

  Bram laughed. “And how is that different, little lass?”

  “It’s not funny,” Cammi said. “In your world, why are people beggars?”

  Jandia shrugged. “Why am I a warrior? Why is Mirak a bard? It is their job. They are beggars. That is how it is.”

  “Here, that’s not how it is,” insisted Cammi. Then, realizing that all were watching him, he closed up. “I’m sorry. I was just—”

  “That’s all right, Cammi,” said Gerontius gently. “Please proceed.”

  Cammi looked at his friends. “We’ve been taught that any one of us could be in his place. Maybe he lost his real job. Maybe there was a fire and he lost all his possessions.”

  “Or he has mental issues,” added Persephone. “People who are mentally ill and can’t get help sometimes end up on the street. It’s sad.”

  “Your society can create magic mirrors and wagons that move on their own and glass towers that seem to graze the heavens themselves, but cannot find houses for those in need?” asked Torgrim. “This seems strange.”

  “Don’t ask us to explain it,” said Ralph. “We’re just kids.”

  Noel pointed to the olive drab duffel bag at the man’s feet. “He might even be a veteran.”

  “What is a veteran?” asked Mirak.

  “Someone who fought for our country and came home,” explained Jojo.

  Jandia looked amazed. “You mean to tell me when warriors return from battle in your world, they are not given feasts and great rewards?”

  “Not always,” said Ralph.

  Jandia set her mouth in a hard line. “This is unjust.”

  “Yes, it is,” said Persephone, who looked like she was going to cry. “I think we should help him.”

  The group crossed to where the man was standing.

  He looked up and Ralph took him in. He was wrapped in loose clothing, with rags around his feet. Under a shapeless cloth cap, he had long dirty hair, maybe gray, maybe white. His face was lined, perhaps with age, but perhaps he had just led a hard life on the streets. He did not seem at all surprised to see the adventurers in their odd clothing with the five chil
dren.

  “Spare change?” he asked in a low, quiet rasp.

  Persephone reached into her pocket and pulled out a few quarters.

  “Thank you, and have a blessed day,” he said, and looked away. It seemed as though that was all he was after.

  “Pardon, good sir, but we were wondering if you had anything to tell us?” asked Mirak in her soft, melodious voice.

  He looked her full in the face. “Spare change?”

  She gestured to Persephone, who scrounged around in her pockets and came up with a few more quarters. She placed them in his palm.

  They waited expectantly.

  “Thank you, and have a blessed day,” the man repeated, just as before.

  Ralph looked at Gerontius and gestured toward the street. “I think that’s all he’s going to say.”

  The group turned to go.

  “Perhaps a few coppers or a piece of steel?” the man called out after them.

  Bram’s head snapped back. “Coppers you say?”

  The man looked straight into the halfling’s eyes.

  “Coppers, or steel, it makes no difference.” There was a hint of a smile around his eyes.

  Bram carefully pulled the sack from around his neck and handed it to the man.

  He weighed it in his hand and nodded. “This will do.”

  The kids exchanged glances.

  Noel shook his head. “RPG, you should have known. I mean, in every adventure…”

  “I know, Noel,” snapped Ralph. “But who would have thought—”

  “But, like, it totally makes sense for us to be standing here with an elf wizard, a dwarf cleric, and a halfling?” Jojo interjected.

  “Quiet!” hissed Torgrim.

  The thin man turned to Gerontius. “You seek the serpent.”

  “Yes, that is correct,” the wizard answered.

  “There is great danger there,” the man said.

  “We do not fear danger,” said Jandia. “We seek it.”

  “Whoa! How cool is that?” said Noel.

  “I know, right?” said Jojo, grinning.

  “Hush, young ones!” admonished Mirak.

  “The place you seek. It is…” He seemed distracted by Jandia’s cape. “That fur on your cape? It is rabbit?”

  “I would wear no rabbit on my person!” Jandia said indignantly. “This is the fur of a wolf I killed with my bare hands as a child. I wear it to honor her.”

  “Accept my apologies,” murmured the thin man. “I thought it was Belgian rabbit.”

  “Enough with this foolishness.” Torgrim bristled. “What of the place?”

  “Thank you, and have a blessed day,” said the thin man, and his eyes turned inward again. He looked away from them.

  “This is nonsense!” sputtered Torgrim. “You have told us nothing!”

  Bram pulled him away. “My friend. He has told us much. You needed only to listen.”

  Gerontius agreed. “We must discuss this. To your house, Arpy. We will feast and talk of our next moves.”

  When they got to the apartment, Ralph made sure GG hadn’t come home early. Not that that ever was going to happen, but he couldn’t be too careful. There was no way to explain five strange-looking people tearing apart a deli plate in their living room.

  Thankfully, the coast was clear, and just as Ralph had expected, the table manners of their guests were horrific. Chunks of deli meats and cheeses were flying everywhere, with slices of bread going down throats barely having been chewed.

  Cammi looked like he was going to be sick. “I never really thought about how gross it was going to be,” he managed to get out, heading to the kitchen and staying as far away as possible from the pillaging horde.

  Torgrim, wiping his sleeve across the remains of what appeared to be half a jar of mustard on his beard, pronounced, “The food is admirable.”

  “Yes, but whatever was in these bottles bore very little resemblance to what we call ale in our world.” Mirak eyed the table skeptically.

  Jandia said it tasted like a horse had peed in it, but used a much ruder word, to no one’s surprise. It didn’t stop her from downing three bottles and belching loudly.

  Ralph started to pick up the plates and put them in a plastic bag to leave in the trash can outside so his parents wouldn’t ask any questions when they got home.

  Gerontius looked up with a curious expression. “Why are you doing the work of the servants? This is beneath you.”

  “First off,” Ralph replied, “we don’t have any servants. Well, my sister and I feel like servants sometimes, but really we’re just a family.”

  “No servants? But surely you are joking,” said Bram. “A house of this size? At least a serving wench or two.”

  “No serving wenches, present company included,” Jojo said firmly as she gingerly threw a half-eaten cocktail frank into the bag.

  “So you are poor?” asked Jandia, getting right to the point as usual.

  Noel laughed. “I wouldn’t say RPG is poor. It’s just that people like us don’t have servants. Maybe a babysitter to help out if both parents work.”

  “This place grows stranger and stranger!” exclaimed Mirak. “You hire people to sit on your babies? In our world, we have a nursemaid, who tends to them with love and kindness.”

  “I would think that sitting on babies would be dangerous,” reasoned Jandia, “but perhaps the babies are wearing armor of some kind to protect them.”

  “A babysitter sits with the baby, not on them,” Persephone said as patiently as she could. “But I guess it is an odd word, now that I think of it.”

  Ralph could feel the conversation spiraling out of control. “Look, we need to get you out of here.”

  “This is a fine way to treat your guests, young lad,” said Bram as he slid three packages of crackers into his vest.

  “The thing is, my parents aren’t going to understand who you are and why you’re here,” Ralph said. “They’ll call the magistrates and it’s going to be hard to explain.”

  Noel looked at Ralph. “The Beveren.”

  Jojo and Persephone looked confused.

  Ralph rolled his eyes. In all the excitement and confusion, he’d completely forgotten.

  “Of course,” he said, “and we even have the money.”

  “Why does that word sound so familiar?” asked Cammi.

  “Because it’s the name of the hotel in downtown Brooklyn where the Reign of Dragons convention is being held tomorrow,” Ralph said. “The one I’ve been trying to get all of you to go to for months.”

  “Dragon what?” asked Torgrim as the other adventurers leaned in.

  “There are dragons about?” asked Jandia excitedly.

  “Not exactly. It’s hard to explain. But it’s a gathering of people who all play—well, who all like the same things we do,” said Ralph. He then remembered the cosplayers. “And even better! There are people who dress like you, so you’ll fit right in!”

  “This gathering is tomorrow?” asked Gerontius.

  “Yes, and it’s held in a place with many rooms for sleeping, and some for large groups—kind of like a gigantic inn,” said Noel carefully.

  “Is this enough to get us a room for the night?” asked Torgrim, holding up the ten hundred-dollar bills.

  “I think so,” said Ralph.

  “Yep,” said Jojo, looking at her phone. “According to their website, the suites are five hundred.”

  Bram stared at her phone covetously. “You were able to get that information from that little magic screen?”

  Jojo reddened. “Um, yeah. It’s really not that hard.”

  “I heard her say something about a web,” Jandia said to Gerontius. “You are able to read omens in spiderwebs as well, are you not, Wizard?”

  “That is
true,” Gerontius said, “but that is a very powerful magic. And my magic does not seem to work here.”

  “Uh-oh. There’s kind of a problem,” Jojo said, scrolling down the screen on her phone. “It says in big letters that costumes are only allowed in the convention area. They’re forbidden in the lobby.”

  “Okay, so how are we getting them to the Beveren?” asked Persephone. “It’s a good fifteen-minute walk from here, right? And they won’t be allowed to check in looking like this.”

  “And we haven’t even figured out what that beggar’s prophecy means,” protested Mirak. “Until we do that, I do not feel safe.”

  “I agree. Clearly it was a warning,” added Torgrim.

  Ralph now had two problems on his hands. “Let’s tackle this one at a time. First off, how do we disguise them? Hold on.” He turned to Cammi. “Are there costumes at the school?”

  Cammi pulled the bill of his baseball cap down while he thought for a moment. “I’m so sorry. I can’t think of anything we have in the shop that would even fit them. Maybe a cowboy or gangster outfit from the last few shows, but that would only fit Bram.”

  “Wait a minute,” Persephone said. She pointed to Jojo’s sweatpants. “What about something like this?”

  Noel snorted. “That’s a great idea. Like, where are we going to find sweatshirts and sweatpants big enough for these guys? I doubt Ralph has them lying around.”

  “No! But I know where we can get them!” Ralph said. “Morrell’s!”

  “The sporting goods store?” asked Jojo. Then she brightened. “That’s genius! It’s just up a little bit past Court Street. And they have all kinds of sizes! Let’s go!”

  Ralph turned to their guests. “We are going out to get you suitable clothing. This way you can walk to the great inn undetected.”

  “We need to get you sweatshirts, hoodies, and sweatpants,” Cammi added.

  “And maybe some underwear,” said Jojo nervously, looking at Jandia and Torgrim.

  Gerontius stepped over to the kids. He leaned down, looking troubled. “What is it you are plotting? You are using words and phrases that are foreign to us.”

  “Gerontius is suspicious,” said Bram. “As well he should be. So far you have treated us as friends and companions, knowing so much about us. But perhaps this is all a ruse to get us to let down our guard.”