A Merry Man Pt 01

Author's note: This story centers around a renaissance festival three years after a pandemic kills most of the men in the area. The focus is on the characters and the festival itself, not the post-apocalyptic element and it is a bit of a slow burn. The festival is drawn from multiple real events in the pacific northwest including the Oregon Country Fair, Faireworlds and the Washington's Midsummer Renaissance Festival. Hope you enjoy!

Following the hand painted sign reading "Midsummer Renaissance Festival" in beautiful script, Ryan turned off the County road and onto the gravel path leading into the forest. His aging subaru bounces along the pothole-filled path as he follows a bumper sticker-covered jeep towards the check-in booth.

It had been a long drive and he was tired and antsy. Two hours on the road with his kids before dropping them off at their grandparents house, and then another four hours to get to the festival. Just thinking about the kids made him a little anxious. This was his first major trip away from them since their mother passed and the world turned upside down, and no amount of reassuring words from his mom and dad could completely set his mind at ease.

But relaxation is what I need, he thought to himself, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. Just last week, he turned forty, although the last three years feel like they should count double. Between the virus and losing his wife, the days had blurred together with little relief from the painful reality of life.

The thick canopy of the pacific northwest forest provides dappled light like warm honey on this August afternoon as the jeep finally moves on and a busty brunette in a blue corset and dark red dress waves him forward.

"Good morrow!" she calls out as Ryan rolls down his window. "Ticket please?"

"Good morrow!" he replies, handing over the printed sheet with a QR code on it. "Sorry I'm not in costume, yet." She waves her hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about it, ah! You are a volunteer!" She says excitedly. "That's perfect, we don't have many... " she trails off, suddenly awkward.

"... you can say it. It's fine." He replies, trying to keep his tone light. "You don't have many guys coming."

She nods. "With so many people finally coming back for the Midsummer festival, we can use the help. Can't have our ladies without a few lords, right?" She laughs.

"I'm excited to be here." He replies politely. And he meant it. It was time for a little escape from reality.

It had been three years since the Gendercide ripped through the country, killing 80% of the men in the first six months. It was a really dark time. Emergency declarations. Lots of group memorials, candles and pictures on the wall.

It got ugly too. Garbage piling up, construction projects ground to a halt, 911 calls unanswered. The government acted quickly, providing economic relief and emergency job training to fill vacancies. Childcare facilities were frantically opened as hundreds of thousands of women reentered the workforce. And things slowly got back to something closer to normal but even now, it was hit or miss on whether a business would be open on any given day.

Thankfully, Ryan was one of the lucky ones with the genes that made him resistant to the virus. His Dad, his son and him all dodged the worst of it, only getting sick for a couple of weeks before getting back on their feet. And that would have made all of this manageable if it weren't for losing his wife three months later.

It was quick but devastating. Stomach cancer. By the time they knew, it was too late.

if only the virus hadn't crippled the healthcare system, they might have been able to catch it earlier and start treatment. If only he had been paying more attention. If only, if only.

He shook his head. No, that was the last thing he wanted to dwell on. It had been three years. Three years of packing lunches, trips to the park, drying tears and loving his kids twice as hard, as they tried to push on without a mom. Without his wife.

He deserved a break. An escape. To reconnect with who he was and is and could be.

Or at least get a little stoned for a weekend at the renaissance fair.

"Is this your first time?" She asks.

"I came six or seven years ago, but only for the day. Never as a volunteer or overnight." Ryan replies.

"Oooh, you are in for a treat." She leans in towards the car window, giving him a generous eyeful of her cleavage. "Drive down that path there, and then hang a right. You can pitch your tent anywhere in the woods south of the road. Once you are unloaded, follow the road down and park your car in the meadow below. Sound good?"

"Easy peasy." Ryan says. The woman catches his eyes, which may not have been on the road, and gives him a sly smile.

"Alright, keep it slow on the road. Just make sure to check in with Karina at the front gate before 8am tomorrow for your volunteer assignment. And have a good time!"

"Oh I will," he replies with a warm smile, "I'm a very merry man." And with that, he carefully pulls forward down the gravel path.

###

With a sleeping bag and a tent tucked under his arm, Ryan clambered his way over the logs and twisting pine needle coated paths of the woods.

Every twenty paces or so, there were colorful tapestries, elaborate lean-tos and tents from various attendees, all spaced out amongst the trees for some semblance of privacy. As dinner time was fast approaching, the sounds of cooking and camaraderie rang out through the trees, filling the air with the echoes of conversation.

Climbing over a crumbling nurse log, Ryan tamps down a nice flat spot between a pair of Douglas Firs and a cedar tree. He tosses down the tent and sleeping bag to hold the space.

"Hey there neighbor!" A boisterous voice calls out. Ryan turns. Twenty paces from his new site, a green celtic patterned tapestry is hung on a string between two trees. Peering over the top, is a bright-eyed woman with bushy red hair and a big smile.

"Are you setting up camp?" She asks, slipping under the tapestry to come closer.

"I am, is that okay?" Ryan asks. "I didn't see anyone else..." He says cautiously.

The woman is dressed in a baggy hoodie and sweats, but it's clear that she is tall, meeting him eye-to-eye and full figured. If it weren't for her smile, he was vaguely concerned she might pick him up and throw him out.

"No, no, it's great. I'm Natalie!" She bounds over to shake his hand. It's a firm grip and he returns it. She gives a quick look around him. "Is it just you or is your wife or girlfriend coming?"

"Nats!" There's a shout from the other side of the tapestry. "For god's sake."

"Shut your mouth, Sarah, I'm being friendly." She snaps back without a single ounce of venom.

Ryan laughs. "Hi, I'm Ryan, and it is just me, I'm afraid. This is my first year volunteering, so I figured to keep it simple." As he is talking, a second woman appears from behind the tapestry, a slender Korean woman with long black hair.

"Fun!" Natalie continues. "Well, we are Lost Raven Leatherworking. This is Sarah, I'm Natalie. My mom is floating around here somewhere. And welcome!"

"Thank you!" Ryan responds, stepping forward to shake Sarah's hand. Her touch is cool and her cheeks light up when he smiles at her. She's young, early twenties maybe, in jeans and a comfortable flannel, while Natalie is closer to his age.

"What are you going to be doing at the festival?" Sarah asks gently.

"Whatever they need me to do," Ryan says. "I can juggle, play the ukulele a bit, and tell a few jokes, so I think they had me as 'stage help' for one of the smaller stages, but I'll find out tomorrow morning."

He smiles and gives Natalie a playful wink. "You may not be able to tell, but I am actually one of Robin Hood's merry men, and am ready for whatever comes on the morrow."

Natalie grins, "A merry man? I like the sound of that. Well if you are up for it, come hang out at our fire tonight, we'd love the company."

"Thanks, I will." Ryan says. "Okay, I'm going to get set up..."

"Of course! Yeah, let us know if you need any help." And with that, Natalie retreats back to the other side of the tapestry, Sarah trailing behind.

"I told you he was cute, this might be your chance," Natalie says, a little too loudly over Sarah's protestations.

Ryan sighs, and heads back to the car to get the rest of his gear.

###

Setting up the campsite was relatively straight-forward. A standing tent that could comfortably fit eight looked obscene with just his portable futon mattress but it was worth the trouble. He topped it with a double wide sleeping bag - a leftover from his marriage, and a number of flickering electric tea lights for illumination.

Outside the tent, he set up a pop tent with his camping stove, ukulele and costume props. Finally, he hung two solar powered paper lanterns made up to look like jellyfish to hang from the trees.

By now, the sun was low on the horizon, bathing everyone in a golden glow, as Ryan retrieved his cheese, fruit and veggies from the cooler. A hobbit's dinner, Ryan noted with some pride. Wrapping it up with a green cloth, he hiked up the twenty minute walk to the top of the wooded ridge overlooking the renaissance fair site.

Located in rural Oregon, the festival is held in a broad valley nestled between two heavily wooded ridges. From here, Ryan can see the flashes of tents and tapestries woven in amongst the trees closest to him. In the meadow below, the organizers had erected a full village of booths, stages, arenas, even a grand entrance to look like a medieval castle. Flags bearing dragons, lions and flowers flap in the wind at the arena and he can faintly hear boisterous cries from the tavern set up near the arena. Behind the village, a thick slow creek meanders past and down towards the road at the entrance to the valley.

The only signs of modernity were the hundreds of cars parked in the flat grassy meadow near that road. Tilting his head, he could barely make out the sounds of the road but they were buried underneath the laughter and sounds of campers eating their dinner.

Yes, this is what I needed, Ryan takes a deep breath, soaking in the moment. To be free from the sadness, the fear, the stress, and the grind of the real world. To be transported to somewhere else. Somewhere free of that.

Wrapping up his leftovers, Ryan basked in the last rays of the setting sun for just a moment longer, feeling its warmth on his short cropped beard, and then headed back down into the woods.

###

As had become all too common, everywhere he turned, there were women. At the lineup for the porta potties, washing dishes at their campsites, playing games around their fires. And as he walked, he felt their eyes turn to him.

It was a feeling he had gotten used to over the last three years. At six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a salt-and-pepper beard, he is unmistakably male. And whether he liked it or not, simply interacting with others brought out lots of emotion.

Amongst other men, it ran the gamut. Sometimes it was palpable relief and camaraderie, especially when there was someone else his age. With only one in five men left, we weren't quite rare but certainly few and far between. Sometimes, especially the younger guys, puffed themselves up to show off but Ryan had always been mild in his demeanor and had long since left that sort of chest thumping behind. But those men were few. Mostly there was just a warm greeting, a kind smile to see other men alive and well after losing so many.

Interacting with women, on the other hand, had become exhausting. Some reacted to his presence with anger, how could he be alive and their loved ones be gone? For others, he was a second chance at talking to their missing son, father, or brother. kids flocked to him at the playground when he brought his two children to play.

For others, he was the last chance for love or sex. He had lost track of the number of times he had been propositioned - at work, at the grocery store, at the playground. Some women were more subtle than others, but as a single Dad, his focus was on his kids. He politely declined all offers, which some had taken more gratefully than others.

He remembered one woman, a slender blonde with highlights and far too much lip gloss, that followed him around the grocery store one day while he was shopping. He tried to politely decline the attention but she kept at it, offering herself in increasingly profane terms until finally he raised his voice and told her off. She exploded in a fit of profanity and for a moment, he was afraid that she would pull a gun on him. The manager, summoned by the noise, asked him to leave. It was frustrating and humiliating.

But for the most part, he had been like many others after the virus, consumed with grief and taking the time to heal.

Until now. He had brought condoms - safely stashed in his tent. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that, but if the opportunity struck, maybe the time was right to come out of his shell. It had been a long time, the idea made him nervous but this weekend was about an escape from reality. And that includes escape from his life as Ryan grieving widower.

When he returned to his campsite, there was raucous laughter from the leatherworkers next door.

"Heeeeey, come join us!" Natalie called out as he returned to his site, tucking away his dinner.

Grabbing his ukulele and a beer, Ryan made his way over to their campsite. The fire was warm, and both Sarah and Natalie looked like they were a few beers in. There was a third woman, with a tight bun of grey hair and kind features, sitting with them.

"Hello, Natalie, Sarah, and..."

"I'm Patrice, Natalie's mom." The woman replies.

"Hi Patrice, I'm Ryan." He replies, taking a seat on the log next to Natalie.

"Are you going to sing for us?" Sarah said, a slight note of skepticism in her voice.

"Maybe. Maybe I'll just hold it and look cool." Ryan quips. Natalie snorts.

"Is it possible to look cool while holding a ukulele?" Natalie laughs.

"You must be very cool to start out with," Ryan replies with a grin. "So I'm shit out of luck."

"Where are you from?" Patrice asks.

"Up near Bellingham." Ryan replies.

"Oh, I went to college up there." Patrice says. "Many many years ago. It's beautiful."

"It is. I love it up there. We live just north of town next to some raspberry fields and it's amazing to watch them change with the seasons." He pops open the beer. "Where are you all from?"

"Well, my mom lives in the Portland area but we are out near Eugene," says Natalie. Ryan arches his eyebrows.

"You two?" He says. Sarah throws up her hands.

"Oh no, we aren't... I haven't... we are roommates." She blushes furiously while Natalie cackles.

"Nailed it," she quips. Natalie turns to you, her eyes full of mischief.

"But no, we aren't dating, we just live together. So, just in case you need to know."

Now it is Ryan's turn to blush, smiling into his beer. "I'll keep that in mind."

"So you do leather working? Is that a full-time business?"

Natalie sighs. "I wish. Sarah works at the grocery store and I am in HR at a glass manufacturing company."

"And I'm retired." Patrice says. "Somewhat, I still do a couple of shifts at a childcare business down the street when I can."

"What brings you here?"

"Natalie and I have been going ever since she was six," says Patrice. "I'm actually the Viscount of my principality."

Ah, yes. The Society of Creative Anachronism, the SCA - the backbone of every renaissance faire. Ryan had attended his share of festivals but never taken the plunge to joining the group.

"So does that mean you have some royal business to attend to tomorrow?" He asks with a smile. Patrice nods.

"I am a lady-in-waiting for the Queen, which means I get to sit in the shaded box seats for the tournament."

"Are they... able to do a bunch of tournament stuff this year?" Ryan stumbles slightly but Natalie pounces.

"You know, women have been blacksmithing and sword fighting since before they invented the hammer," she snarks. "So yes, there will be tournament stuff."

Ryan holds up his hands in surrender. "I'm thrilled, seeing the duels are always a blast." He takes another drink. "What else do you want to see at this festival?"

"Belly dancing!" Sarah says, and then immediately puts a hand over her mouth, embarrassed.

"There's belly dancing?" Ryan asks. Sarah nods. "I've always wanted to give it a try but never had a chance to." She says. "There's a free class on the Dragon stage on Sunday."

"That's really cool, maybe I'll join you." Ryan says with a sly smile. The women laugh.

"Hey, if you all can thump each other with swords in the hot sun, I can definitely shake my hips on the dragon stage." Ryan replies.

"I'd like to see that," says Natalie.

From there, the conversation flows like the beer. Ryan shares a few stories from his work and of his kids. Sarah shares her frustration at being unable to finish her dissertation at the university - her faculty sponsor died in the gendercide - and Natalie spends most of the time slowly inching closer to Ryan on the log.

Finally, after much prodding, Ryan plays a few tunes on the ukulele and then bids the ladies good night. After all, tomorrow was the first day of the festival and he wanted to be well rested.

As he zipped himself into the tent, he took a moment to be grateful for his neighbor's hospitality. It was nice to be flirted with without having to look over his shoulder to see if his kids were okay or if he was being pulled away from his work. Just some light flirting and social interaction, exactly what the doctor ordered.

###

The next morning, the whole forest was alive with energy. The clanking of dishes, the search for lost props, the demands for hot coffee. Coffee. The thought draws Ryan from his tent, where he fires up the camping stove to heat water and pulls his costume out of the tent.

It's a simple outfit - black boots, with tight green pants, a leather belt with pockets, and what his sister-in-law artfully described as a "slutty poet shirt". It has a deep v-neck and no sleeves, instead relying on string and lace to hold the shirt together. Finally, the crowning piece, a pointed leather Robin Hood hat.

All and all, the calling card of a Merry Man from Sherwood Forest. With the ukulele, he could almost be Will Scarlett but a Uke was a far cry from a lute.

He considered the wooden bow and arrow set but that would mean carrying it around all day and that would be a pain.

Instead, he slung his ukulele over his shoulder and made his way down the wooded path out of the forest and towards the Renaissance fair.

###

The front gate was a magnificent two story construction. Boisterous women in broad skirts shouted huzzahs and welcomes from the balcony as attendees and volunteers trickled in.

After being directed to three different people, he finally located Karina, the volunteer coordinator, in a festival tent near the front gate.

Karina has her hands full, a clipboard in one hand, a first aid kit in the other as she bickered with an older woman with a tight bun and a ruffled collar.

"I don't care if Tomas says that he feels fine, I will not have him bleeding all over his doublet, it's a rental!" She pushes the first aid kit into the woman's hands and shoos her out the door.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt... " Ryan says,

Karina looks up and does a double-take.

"Hello!" She says, startled. She looks him up and down as if a martian had landed in her tent. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ryan O'Connor, I'm one of your volunteers?" For a moment, he was worried he had found the wrong person but her face lit up.

"The new guy!" She says, snapping her fingers. "I'm sorry, I just didn't expect you to be so... "