Flickers at Freshfields 4 by James Wylder

Flickers at Freshfields 4
​by James Wylder

It had been a long shift, and Katie was excited to be done. Not that her job really ended. Once she closed, she’d set up with a sleeping bag in the back room and be on call in case something happened at Freshfields again.
Unfortunately, she noticed something nearly immediately while she was wiping down the tables. Sometimes she wished she could be worse at her job, because her ability to ignore things as soon as she noticed or realised them was incredibly small and low. Oh well. She yelled to Fred that she needed to check on something.
Throwing her trenchcoat on over her uniform, she ran out the door and across the road to where the girl in the elaborate ballgown was sitting on the grass holding a comedy mask.
She looked over at her as she ran.
Oh well, this wasn’t a case where she was being stealthy.
“Hey uh, you doing alright? What’s with the gown?”
The girl looked down, and looked up at her. “Oh yeah. Got kidnapped by an evil cosmic scarecrow.”
Katie nodded knowingly. “That happened to my buddy Ryan.”
“Sucks. Guessing you’re a Flicker, cause you were working at the Blue Candle?”
Katie made a “psshhh” noise, but the girl just held her gaze.
“...I’m not supposed to say.”
“So yes. I met some of you next year.”
Katie took a second parsing that sentence.
“Hey, look, it’s whatever. You want this mask? I’d rather not keep it. It’s not cursed or anything.”
She held it out to her. 
Katie ruminated on it. Well, couldn’t hurt to have it. She took the mask. It was old and battered, and smelled like straw.
“Hey, let’s get back to the hotel to change!” a blond man yelled up to them. It was Chris Cwej. Interstellar and temporal adventurer, and human Act of God. Oh. This was his assistant... They’d been at the shop earlier. She didn’t recognise the girl with the terrible hairdo, thick makeup, and the gaudy dress. 
The girl waved at Cwej, and turned back to Katie. “Thank god, I hate this dress. Well, see ya.”
“Yeah, good to meet you by the way. I’m Kaite Smithy.”
“Jhe Sang Mi. Good luck with the…” She gestured with her hands broadly and vaguely. “Whole being exploited for protection thing. You made a good hazelnut latte. Peace out.”
They waved goodbye.
She looked at the mask. Maybe it’d come in handy later. 

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