Amy

Chapter 4

Morning!

I decided to add a cast just for fun, but a couple actors, like the one for Amy, don't seem quite right. Lemme know if you can think of a better one.

Thx,

Kaldaki

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Chapter 4

It was finally the day of the fair. I had organized everything- 10 or so pictures displayed around my bench and table, with one large sign advertising my ability to draw portraits. I sat back and drifted off into space, staring blankly at the chicken wandering around on the other side of Ye Olde Well.

“AMY!”

“Ahh! What?”

It was a couple carnies from my group. “Amy! You’re not in costume!”

“Huh?”

 Yeah, you have to wear medieval stuff like us!”

“What? No! I’ve never had to dress up before!”

“Aimmmeeeee you haaaaahve to!” One whined. “It’s a ren fest!”

“No way in hell. I’m not wearing some old, sweaty costume for-“

Both girls tried to grab each of my arms and drag me around, but I broke their grip. “Ok, ok, fine! Where’s the prop room?”

“Behind the admission booths.”

I started off in that direction, and to my annoyance, they followed me. I found the shed without difficulty and slipped inside. I was in a dark, musty closet with moths flying all over the place. It took a while, but I eventually found and changed into an acceptable white shirt and gypsy skirt.

“It’s not very authentic…” One complained.

“Authentic?! You’re wearing a T-shirt under yours!”

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late!” The other one shouted.

The tourists were already pouring in. We raced back to our stations and waited for the oncoming crowd.

 The first customer that approached my shop was a young, swollen woman with damaged hair and a diaper bag. Everything about her screamed “mother”.

“Hello, do you draw portraits from pictures?”

No, that’s just what it says on the freaking sign. “I do. Do you have a photograph?”

“It’s my daughter.” She placed a 3 x 5 flash photo on the table. It was an amateur shot of a toddler grinning wildly, her 3 baby teeth sticking out oddly from her gums. Her hair was all wet and sticking to her face. I smiled. I always loved a good challenge.

“The finished product will be 15 dollars, ma’am.”

I started with an outline of the face, like I always do, then the neck, then the shoulders. I drew a couple reference lines and defined the nose. Then I began on the eyes.

The eyes of a person are always the most important aspect of the entire portrait, and the most difficult. The slightest difference in shading can turn an adorable little girl into a terrifying demon child. The mouth wasn’t going to be easy, either.

“What’s her name?” I asked.

“Eileen.” She beamed. That poor child, I thought. “She’s already four years old, but this was taken when she was two. See, one morning I was giving her a bath, and…”

Focusing more on the picture than Mom’s meaningless babbling, I shaded in the cheeks, the eyebrows, and started on her hair.

The hair was always my favorite part. I always think the picture is going to look like crap until I add it in. I’m not sure why, but a person’s hair seems to just tie everything together.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“Sixteen.”

“Wow, you are very good for your age!”

“Thank you.” I signed my name at the bottom and handed her the finished portrait.

“No frame?”

“I’m sorry; I don’t know how to make a frame.”

She stared at me for a moment, as if she felt sorry for me, and placed a couple bills on the table. “Oh, ok. This is very nice, thank you.”

I stuffed the 15 dollars in a box under the bench. I glanced over at Goth. In the time I sold one drawing, she had sold twice as much money in puppets. For a moment, the way she sat there, emotionless, with that puppet bobbing on her shoulder, made me want to draw her, but I decided against it. I mean, who would want to buy a picture of some useless carnie?

After a while, the variety show started across the plaza. All of the guys I saw earlier were onstage.

“Hey, everybody! How y’all doing today?!” the largest of the four shouted. “We’re the Quirky Q quartet! Everything we do starts with Q! We Quickly write with Quills, we pay for everything in Quarters, and we use Quilted Northern toilet paper!” the crowd laughed, myself along with them. “My name is Quag, this is Quack, that guy over there is Quincy and…. There’s Jack.”

Jack raised his hand and became the subject to more laughter. He was the same sandy-haired teenager I saw a few days ago.

The show was hilarious. The guys mostly cracked jokes, the most frequent gag being them having trouble finding things that began with Q, but once in a while, the big one, Quag, would light something on fire and balance it on his nose while the others juggled increasingly dangerous objects. It was by far the best sideshow I’d ever seen.

By the time the sun went down, I had earned ninety dollars, watched two awesome sideshows, and had a decent dinner of macaroni and cheese in a bread bowl, of all things. However, right after everyone left, I sprinted back to the Jousting field to make sure Sapph was ok. As I approached, I saw her laughing with the Ringmaster on the bleachers. I sighed and walked back to my station. I grabbed the money box from under the table, only pulling out a single quarter. Before returning to my trailer, I stopped at the pay phone.