Chapter 1 – Getting the Summer Job

Kennedy Cavan

 Kennedy sat in his car just outside the service entrance to The Secret Lands. He leaned on the old wheel, looking up at the overwrought amusement park. He'd never been a huge fan: they leaned a bit too hard on the whole fantasy theme they had going, coming of like a try-hard version of Disney or whatever. His sister, however, loved the place, and his sister was why he was here now.

 Sighing, Kennedy ran his hand over his face, pausing to pinch his eyes. As he lowered his arm, he looked to the seat beside him, where his completed job application lay. Technically he'd already sent in a copy to the park via email, and had gotten the official interview for the job. He knew exactly why he'd gotten that interview too, and it definitely wasn't something Kennedy had done. He could still see his sister's letter of recommendation tucked into the file.

 Kennedy grunted, scooped the folder with one hand, and leaned hard against the door of his car. He had to jiggle it to get it to open, but it finally did with a loud popping sound. The bottom of the door frame dropped to the cement immediately after, making Kennedy again raise a hand to wipe at his face. He bent down, looking at the well-made hole in the bottom of the door. Kennedy knew it would be just big enough for him to get his hand in there and tuck something inside. Reaching up, he could feel a wrinkled plastic bag shoved deep within. He pulled it out, took a look at the mostly melted mess, with bits of green attached.

 Then Kennedy shoved it back inside and got out of his car. He slid right back down, popped the bottom of the door into place, and then slammed it into the car. The whole thing shuddered as if threatening to die on the spot, with Kennedy just giving it a tired look. He clutched the folder to his chest and adjusted his shirt. His dad had lent him a vest and tie, making him look like he'd beat up an A student slightly smaller than him and stolen his clothes. Even the slacks didn't quite fit right, though most of Kennedy's current wardrobe made him look like he was about to do an excellent imitation of the Hulk.

 He walked his way through the parking lot, heading toward that service entrance. He'd barely gotten five feet when he noticed someone else: some old lady struggling to get something out of his car. At first Kennedy kept walking, figuring that the last thing some old white lady wanted was a tall black teen with noticeable tattoos to walk over and offer help; probably think he was going to rob her or something. But he'd heard her start cursing using words that his grandmother would've chuckled at, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

 Before Kennedy realized what he was doing, he'd pivoted and walked his way to the car. The lady didn't notice him coming, which was slightly surprising. Kennedy had mastered the art of disappearing into a crowd, sure, but the parking lot wasn't exactly packed during one of the park's rare "off" days. A six foot something guy with broad shoulders should've stood out. That and Kennedy had started coughing gently into his fist as he approached.

 Then again, the lady had started cursing in some odd, guttural language that Kennedy didn't quite understand. Now that he was closer, he supposed she did have that sort of vaguely European look that old white ladies sometimes got. Where their faces were just a bit too broad and their bodies had started to grow out to match. Her nose looked big enough to pass for a puppet, though the strangest bit was the bits of what appeared to be hair dotting her chin.

 To his credit, Kennedy didn't stare. "Excuse me," he said, his baritone voice rumbling.

 The lady paused, turned, and looked directly into Kennedy's waist. That would've been a bit odd for most people, but as the lady slid out from the trunk of her car, it became apparent that she could only just reach Kennedy's waist if she stood on her toes. She squinted up at him. "Whatcher wantin' there, lad?"

 Kennedy blinked, not certain at first that he'd heard English.

 "Ye deaf? Or ye be standin' there lookin' all gormless an' th' like?"

 "I was just wondering if you'd like some help with your---" Kennedy turned, looking into the trunk, "mechanical squirrel."

 "'e's a fine creation. Bugger'd gone an' ran 'way fir a bit. Didnae ken ah'd be followin'. Willnae be gettin' way from Bulgoli" said the lady, smacking the strange mechanical creation. She turned and cast an appraising gaze up and down Kennedy. "Ye be applyin' tae work at th' Lan's then?"

 Kennedy nodded.

 "First time comin' 'ere?"

 "To work, yeah."

 Bulgoli nodded a few more times, then turned back to the squirrel. Grunting, she looped her hands around his front and started pulling. The squirrel clearly was getting caught, as it had barely fit sideways into the trunk proper. It was a bit weird, but Kennedy swore he saw the tail twitch to purposefully get caught. He moved around the short woman to come to the other end. Just as she started to ask him to grab that end, he looped his arms in.

 "Righ', on tree then," said Bulgoli, nodding.

 Kennedy returned the gesture in kind. He waited while she counted, pulled at three. He did have to reach down to tuck the squirrel's tail in, but he managed to get the creation free. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten about the nearly three foot height difference, leaving him holding both a mechanical squirrel and a tiny woman attached to it. Judging by the woman's whoop and the way she swung on the squirrel, that wasn't much of a problem.

 Bulgoli dropped, chuckling as she wiped of her checkered skirt (Kennedy wanted to say "kilt," but he was still pretty sure Bulgoli was female and was also relatively certain that females didn't wear kilts?). "Righ', I ain't gonna stop a big 'un like ye'self from doin' th' heavy liftin'," she waved for him to follow, so he did, walking across the lot.

 By now a handful of others had started arriving. One or two waved toward Bulgoli, apparently pleasantly surprised to see the tiny, gruff woman out and about. A few gave Kennedy odd glances, some appraising, most curious. Once Bulgoli had to yell that he was helping, "new tool" as she put it, though in a way that, for some reason, didn't sound quite as demeaning as it probably should. A few others must have been new arrivals too, judging by their expressions as they eyeballed Bulgoli.

 Kennedy kept up with the old woman, surprised at how hard that actually was. Usually he could outpace most people with the long legs and all, and seeing how his legs were about as long as Bulgoli's entire body, he'd figured he'd be pausing every few steps to let her catch up. Instead, he nearly had to double-time it to keep up with her.

 Bulgoli led them toward a low hung gate, near one of the familiar hiring posters. Kennedy had seen them before, inviting people to come in and be a part of the secret magic that was the Secret Lands. There were plenty of smiling faces and what appeared to be glitter dancing between outstretched hands. Kennedy could distinctly remember painting graffiti over a poster like that at one point. Graffiti came to mind as he noticed what appeared to be glistening letters over the poster, letting people know that they were doing a mass hire soon, so they should apply today!

 "Goin' tae get a bunch o' dull heads," grumbled Bulgoli as she caught him eying the poster. "Ye should stan' out from th' crowd---" she trailed off, looking up at Kennedy with confusion.

 Blinking, he realized they'd skipped the introduction part: "Kennedy. Cavan."

 "Strong name, tha'. Almost a---" but she paused before revealing what it almost was. "Bulgoli Graggle, Sharptongue." Kennedy couldn't quite tell which part of that bundle of words was a name and which part was a title and which part was gibberish, so he simply nodded.

 They walked through the gate, and for a moment, Kennedy felt his skin tingling. Bulgoli was already waving it off, mentioning something about standard detection. So probably a metal detector or something along those lines. She motioned for him to head a little further in, walking past a few other employees. As they approached, a group of about four other workers, each dressed like a mining dwarf, drove up in what appeared to be some kind of battery-operated cart. It looked halfway between a mining cart and a golf cart, and somehow the four people inside managed to both overfill it by virtue of sheer broadness and leave enough space for both Bulgoli and a certain mechanical squirrel.

 Bulgoli barked at the four men in that same guttural language Kennedy had heard her using to curse the squirrel. Judging by the dour expressions, the language must not have differed much either. At least one worker gave Kennedy a look like he'd announced his intent to steal the dwarf's job. Fortunately, two others were giving him looks that bordered on respect, while the last simply retorted back to Bulgoli in a tired voice. That last gestured for Kennedy to put the squirrel into the bed of the cart.

 "Ye done good, lad," said the man, nodding. The others nodded in varying levels of reluctance while Kennedy adjusted the squirrel. The tail flicked around as he set it in, and he just managed to jerk back before it knocked him over. Bulgoli walked up and smacked the thing on its bottom, cursing it once more while most of the males in the cart all chuckled.

 "Ye'll want tae head tha' way,' said Bulgoli, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "They're startin' th' first inspection in…" she glanced at the man who'd spoke, who dug an old fashioned and rather ornate watch out of a pocket, holding her up, "'bout seven minutes," Bulgoli smiled up at him. "Better run, lad."

 Kennedy did not make it in time. He tried: he sprinted as fast as he could manage, and he had a lot of practice running as fast as possible, though usually there were people running behind him. He'd rounded a corner in the direction Bulgoli had indicated, finding the pavement beneath his feet giving way to mulched wood. Kennedy had been barreling through that just fine, despite having decidedly less experience with that and exactly the wrong sort of footwear, when he nearly tripped over the small, furry creature.

 It took Kennedy a moment to realize that it wasn't some sort of puppet or something. For one thing, it was a brilliant green color, with a bright red shimmering oval in the dead center of its forehead. If Kennedy didn't know any better, he'd guess that whatever that was some kind of gem. The rest of the creature's turquoise fur shivered as it looked up at Kennedy. Massive, glittering blue eyes stared up at him, the irises dancing with light. Two large floppy ears, each ringed with bits of hair, stuck out at odd angles from its head. The body looked lean and vaguely shaped like some kind of rodent or something, maybe a rabbit? But rabbits weren't turquoise, didn't have gems, and didn't have long tails.

 "You okay?" asked Kennedy, wincing as he bent low. He could see the creature skittering slightly away, and he had to wonder why it was even out here. He did know that there were some various animals in the park. This whole Forgotten Forest section had been dedicated to a kind of petting zoo with various "magical" creatures. Alby told Kennedy that most of them were electronic, but apparently there were a few more exotic creatures. This must be one of them.

 The creature chittered in a slightly melodic way as it stared up at Kennedy, blinking one eye then the other before both went down at once. Its gem seemed to catch the light and sparkle.

 "Right… you probably shouldn't be around here," Kennedy said. He rubbed at his face again, before digging into his pocket. He found a leftover bit of protein bar, something he'd shoved into his pocket on the way out. Half of it had been eaten, but the rest looked more or less intact. He peeled back the wrapper, holding it out to the creature and already wondering if he shouldn't leave this to someone more qualified.

 Instead of just snatching the treat out of his hand or maybe cautiously sniffing, the creature almost leapt. Its strange limbs circled around Kennedy's arm, tail hooking nearly at his elbow, while finger-like paws grasped near his wrist. Its head hovered just above his hand, and Kennedy tensed, sure that it was going to start nibbling. Instead it started cooing, while also eating protein bar. Kennedy held for several seconds, noting that the creature barely weighed anything on his hand. Since he was quickly running out of time, and knew that someone would need to get to this guy, he dared rise, if slowly. The creature barely seemed to care, remaining perched.

 Creature on arm, Kennedy kept walking in the general direction Bulgoli had indicated. He walked fairly quickly, not quite running since he didn't want the thing on his arm to start freaking out. Within a few minutes, he caught sight of a rather impressive, open aired tent, with several dozen people milling about underneath. It didn't take much to guess that he was supposed to go there, since about half the people looked almost as lost as Kennedy felt.

 Strangely, nobody gave him any odd looks as he approached with his new friend on his arm. The creature had finished off the protein bar but that didn't seem to stop him from keeping his perch atop Kennedy. He kept looking through the crowd, hoping to spot at least someone here who looked like they knew what they were doing. As he did, he couldn't help but notice that there were a few other animals perched atop some people. One shorter, younger kid who couldn't have been much older than fifteen (so roughly the same age as Alby), had a glistening orange bird perched on his head. A girl appeared to be holding something that looked a cross between a chicken and a snake, and she kept scratching it under the chin.

 In fact, most of the people under the tent, the couple dozen or so within the open aired tent itself that is, had some sort of strange thing with them. A couple were holding various devices that reminded Kennedy of the squirrel. Some were holding weird bags or what appeared to be bits of food. One had what looked like a child clutching a hand.

 Kennedy approached the edge, brow furrowing as he looked around. This was… different. He'd expected to go into an office one on one with someone, for starters. He'd said that he could handle people and might make a decent greeter or maybe personnel handler. In fact, Kennedy had been expecting to get a job as a janitor or something, since he'd also pointed out that he'd be pretty decent at managing that. There had been a listing that had said "Spot Checker," which, judging by the short description by it, had sounded like someone who just ran around doing odd jobs throughout the park, almost like an intern or something. He'd checked that box too, figuring if nothing else, they'd be willing to hire him for that. He needed to get some kind of job, and with his record, this was his best place.

 After all, it was the only place where his sister had been doing amazing work for the past year.

 "Hey, uh," said a voice next to him. Kennedy shifted, seeing the short young guy with the bird coming up beside him. The girl with the snake-chicken and another brown guy with some kind of mechanical cricket were hanging nearby. "Hi. I'm Paris, like the Grecian hero, not the city," he laughed nervously, and Kennedy could almost see the girl behind him wincing. "You wouldn't happen to know if we're in the right spot? We're supposed to be starting today…"

 "We're all here," the cricket wielder said, nodding. He didn't have an accent, which surprised Kennedy more than he figured it should. "So this is probably the right spot."

 Kennedy shrugged. "Makes sense to me," he offered. The creature chittered in response.

 Paris looked about ready to start offering commentary again, when the chicken holder excitedly started almost flapping her arms. She jerked her head, and they all turned to see what appeared to be some kind of soap box. It almost literally looked like that, and apparently someone had just walked it out, since there were a guys wearing oddly normal looking park uniforms nearby. But it wasn't the box or the guys that caught their attention: it was the girl almost skipping up. 

 Average height, waist, build, breast sized, almost as if she'd been genetically spliced to come out dead center of any curves. Dark brown hair looked carefully and professionally styled, short with a kind of jagged rough cut, but Kennedy could swear he saw almost smoky ends. Her light brown skin spoke to some kinda mixed heritage. She looked all kinds of friendly, determined, and ready to go. Kennedy didn't need chicken-girl's almost squealed exclamation to know who he was looking at: "Mikki DuBois!"

 Yes, Mikki, one of the faces of the park. She'd apparently worked there since she was old enough to walk, if rumor could be believed. Alby had several stories about her, or, well, it was more like Mikki often seemed to have a deus ex machina role in most of Alby's more disastrous stories.

 "Welcome to all our new family members!" said Mikki, waving. "In case you didn't know, I'm Mikki DuBois, entertainment manager and acting lands coordinator."

 That last had a few people mumbling, though Kennedy didn't know why.

 "We're doing the hiring slightly different this year. We already went through your resumes, and several of you had your basic interviews. Well, if you made it here,' she spread her arms, "then you're officially hired!"

 Quite a few people whooped in excitement, including chicken-snake girl and Paris.

 "But you may have noticed that there's quite a few of you. The good news is that we can definitely use all the hands we need. The bad news is that some of you probably won't work out for whatever reason. So for the next few weeks, you'll be on something of a trial basis. You'll do various jobs around the park, mostly the ones that you signed up for on your application, until either we or you decide that you just won't fit in, or you find a job that fits you just right!" Mikki spread her arms in a show-man like fashion, and several people clapped. It was then that Kennedy noticed that a few of them were wearing flashier outfits, which reminded him that at least a handful had to be performers and the like.

 "Oh, and one more thing," Mikki said, holding up a finger. "You'll definitely notice that we do things a bit differently here at the park. Don't let anyone outside the park know about it besides some basic details! It's very important that we don't spoil the…" she paused, her smile looking almost mischievous, "magic about the place. Though if you think you've got it figured out, feel free to come and see me and tell me what you've discovered! There may be a bonus in it for those that do!"

 Mikki gestured, then pointed, seemingly at random. People were murmuring excitedly, as if a tremendous contest had just been announced. But all Kennedy noticed was the exact direction the finger was pointed in. He was pretty sure everyone would be thinking it, so he didn't want to over think things…

 …but he could've sworn that Mikki was pointing straight at him.