a local newspaper
an edition of eleven
tasting notes: back-to-school shopping, Tarot cards, ‘La Ronde’, the very-real (albeit different) Bazaar
The headline in the local paper read: THE BAZAAR IS COMING.
The article was short, heavy on details -- location, timing -- and sparing on the details of what might be available there. That, people provided for each other.
Grant has visited the Bazaar once before, the last time it'd come through Bradbury County. It had stayed for nearly three weeks then, long enough for he and his friends -- none of them older than thirteen at the time -- to spiritually claim it as their communal hang-out spot. After school (for it had arrived in April, along with the flowers) they would ride their bikes down to the old Harrison place, where the Bazaar had set up tents and outdoor structures seemingly overnight. They'd throw down their bikes and set off in search of treats, of frights (but not too frightening), of stories to swap or dares to embrace. The last night that the Bazaar was there, as some of the sellers had already begun to vacate, leaving strange gaping holes where previously there had been busy shelves and busier people, had been a momentous night for Grant: he got his first kiss (Brittany Meyer) and got nearly knocked out in his first fight (Billy Meyer, Brittany's big brother).
The thought of the Bazaar being back quickened his blood the same way tackling Billy had, the same way kissing Brittany had. He wonders where they are now...
Laney has only heard about the Bazaar -- mostly from Grant, but it'd be hard not to hear about it in her line of work. She's skeptical about it, which is funny considering the volume of strange and supernatural things about which she's utterly blasé. It's the mythology that concerns her: that it shows up on no discernible schedule, that it offers just about anything a person could need so long as they can find it (both the Bazaar itself and the item in question), that it turns visitors into starry-eyed children again.
Maybe that last bit is just her husband.
But Laney has a need that perhaps the Bazaar can fulfill, because she's tried just about everything else. See, when she puts her hands into the soil, she can no longer feel the land they live on. She is losing touch with what grounds her and so she clips out the story in the newspaper and magnets it to the fridge...
Charlie, Grant and Laney's son, overhears his parents talking about the Bazaar as they're making dinner. He asks about it, noticing both his mother's slight dismissive eye-roll and his father's glowing eyebrow lift. He reads the article on the fridge as they tell him that they'll all go on opening day and a sense of wonder opens in his chest.
This is before he's come into his own power and he doesn't yet understand the limitations, the changes, the things that will shift for him once that happens. He only sees the rest of his family, capable of things that are both completely astonishing every time they happen and treated as totally ordinary by the family members doing them. This place, this repository of wonder, might be just the thing to push him forward, make him feel like he fits in...
Zoe, Charlie's older sister, is 14 and she wishes she hadn't heard about the Bazaar from Charlie. He runs into her room, blabbering on about some places that their father called magical and their mother called questionable, or something? Ugh.
She kicks him out of her room and then follows him, down to the computer room, where she kicks him out of the computer chair ("You can play Carmen Sandiego later") and dials up the Internet. It's the early days of search engines and she turns up nothing much and so turns to AOL Instant Messenger, where her friend Mary is online and waiting and soon they're lost in conversation and only just before she logs off does she mention the Bazaar, in case Mary's heard about it...
Mary has not heard about the Bazaar, but this isn't surprising because Mary hasn't heard about much. It's not that she's sheltered, exactly, although she is sheltered and her mother is a bit of a tyrant about it -- particularly as Mary enters puberty. She's technically been banned from seeing Zoe (Mary's mother, blessedly, doesn't understand the Internet) after a sleep-over that spring had resulted in many questions from Mary about the birds and the bees because, it turned out, the girls had watched Cruel Intentions. Zoe hadn't seen the problem, although she told Mary that her parents had given her a stern talking-to -- but now Mary was left on the outside, unsure of where to get adequate information about not only the things happening to her body but those happening to her feelings too.
But this Bazaar that Zoe mentioned, it sounds like the kind of place a person can get answers...
Mary's mother Catherine has been aware of the Bazaar's impending arrival for several weeks -- she volunteers to take minutes at the monthly county council meetings -- and she has been completely stymied in her attempts to ensure it never comes. She wrote letters, she made speeches, she even tried what she thought was a bribe to one of the councilmen; nothing worked.
And now? Now her precious baby, her dear sweet little girl, is asking about this coming den of sin and devil worship! It must, she thinks, be the influence of that terrible friend of hers, Zoe. That whole family is up to dark doings, she has long believed.
Well, she won't stand for it. She tells Mary this as though it is for her own good -- even says that, that it's for her own good -- as she forbids her from going to the Bazaar at any point. She herself will, of course, make a visit at the opening to see just how evil the place really is...
The bribe Catherine offered to the county councilman, an older man called Jack, was understood to be a bribe, which is to say she got that much right. But Jack has long accepted all kinds of bribes -- money, favors, baked goods -- and done very little with them because he is the kind of person who believes that all good things can and will come to him, that he will always just by virtue of being alive, acquire these offerings. He doesn't think he's special, per se; it's just what people do and there's some part of him that thinks that they must do it to everyone else, too. So why should he interfere?
He's monologuing about this again at the Flag Stop, the secret-ish townie bar, and his words are largely indecipherable at this point because of the liquor that Annalee, the bartender, has been plying him with...
Annalee, bartender at the Flag Stop, has been waiting on the Bazaar's arrival for something like years now. She's, yes, bribed the councilmen (not just Jack but all of them) to make sure that it arrives but also she knows that there's nothing that they can really do but get out of the way and let it come in. Still, that's enough: she's being shaken down by the deputy mayor and she needs to put a stop to it. She knows, from the last several times she's visited the Bazaar -- she's traveled far and wide, around not just the country but the world, when a particular need has pressed on her soul (or other parts of her body, she thinks with a snort) -- that there's a particular booth in the back third of the Bazaar, past the long alley of card games and kiddie pools, where she'll be able to find a witch of her old acquaintance who'll be able to work up something that'll put the deputy mayor to rights...
The deputy mayor has also been waiting for the Bazaar, although his appointment is more fated than he realizes. In all his years of double-dealing (which are not too many, as he's still a relatively young man, but his years have been over-stuffed with dirty deeds), he's crossed plenty of people -- but twice, now, has he crossed a witch and it isn't Annalee who will get him in the end. There is a booth at the Bazaar where a lone figure sits, under an innocuous sign that reads "Assistance" and the deputy mayor has an appointment for just after the Bazaar opens for business. He believes that he'll be collecting the payoff on getting the Bazaar into the old lot in town, but really, he'll be the one collected...
Lettie, the new bookseller at the bookshop in the little town of Allantide, on the edge of Bradbury County, has only a few regrets in her life and she's pretty sure that visiting the Bazaar years ago (in another state, in another life) isn't one of them. The fact that it has followed her here, or at least that's how she perceives it, is a bit troubling, but she also knows that it must be because of the deal she struck on that long-ago visit.
Long-ago? She snorts at herself. It wasn't even a decade ago; she's barely into her thirties. Still, she knows that some arrangement of the universe has brought her to this town where that asshole has conspired to grab power -- and because of the woman sleeping next to her, and because of this bookshop that she loved from the moment she stepped inside. She wants to wake the woman, so that they aren't late, but she waits another minute, just because...
Ms. Chizmar (as she's known to Charlie and Zoe and Mary and their parents) would rather have stayed in the patch of sun in Lettie's bed, would've even been fine with moving out of the patch of sun if she'd still been allowed to stay in bed, but here they are, heading to the Bazaar.
It will be their first time out in public together as a couple, if you don't count drinks at the Flag Stop or a few group gatherings where they'd naturally gravitated towards one another. She's curious, sure, about the Bazaar but she's ready to see it through the eyes of her new lover and so she doesn't really care what's out there because it will be full of wonder because how could it not be, with a hand to hold...
They gather in the parking lot, on a sunny August Saturday -- people from all over the county, and even beyond. There are people up from the city, and even a few folks who drove for hours from that other city to the east. Grant and Laney wave to Catherine, who sits in her car with a scowl, cataloguing everyone who is arriving for this horrible event; Ms. Chizmar calls out a hello to Zoe and Charlie, who reply in with a unified monotonous "Hi Ms. Chizmar" before scampering away to find friends; Annalee and Lettie are chatting about the weather while the deputy mayor and Councilman Jack sip large iced coffees and murmur about development deals.
They've all come here for something, whether they are thinking about it or not, whether they'll come away with it or not, whether the 'something' even matters or not. The Bazaar calls to a certain kind of person, offering anything for a price and a sense of adventure for free. The metal gate slides up and the doors swing open and the crowd slowly moves forward, stepping inside one by one or two by two. The Bazaar is open. Get there while you can.