The Renaissance Faire has always been a refuge for freaks and weirdos. A safe place for the socially awkward and misunderstood. For the last 3 years, however, Notts' Renaissance Faire in Georgia has expanded it's demographic to a new clientele. One with incredibly deep wallets and the need for total and complete anonymity.
But before we get into that, let me start with a bit of history. My name is Ali Rook. Ali's short for Alison. Just your average, pretty, slender, freckled, 26 year-old redhead who happens to run a Renaissance Faire. Of course, "average", by Ren. Faire standards, is antonymous with the conventional definition of the word "average". Most average 26 year-old girls don't inherit multi-million dollar corporations from their extended family members.
My uncle, Henry Notts, founded the Notts' Ren. Faire 22 years ago. I was 5 years old when he drove my sister and me across the country to see the land that would become our new home. Uncle Henry had just adopted me after my parents died in a car crash.
My sister- well, half sister, Becca Notts, was 10 when we arrived. That was back when we used to get along. That relationship soured almost instantly upon her learning that she'd just inherited the full-time responsibility of baby-sitting her 5 year-old step-sister. Uncle Henry did his best to juggle the roles of single caregiver and bread-winner, but doing both proved to be more challenging than he anticipated. So, while Uncle Henry was off building his medieval empire, Becca begrudgingly looked after me. It didn't take long for the two of us to become mortal enemies.
Becca was the Lex Luthor to my Superman. The Green Goblin to my Spidey. Hey- I told you I lived in a community of social outcasts. I happened to be a proud comic book nerd. But Becca had always been cruel to me. Vindictiveness may not have been my strongest suit, but as far as Becca was concerned, I did my best to dish it right back. I always attempted to conceal our mutual animosity when Uncle Henry was around. But behind closed doors, we were always ready to throw down.
It was several years later that I ultimately landed the final blow to our relationship. Once I became old enough, I dove into the role of helping my uncle run the faire. He took me under his wing. I was his shadow and dedicated myself to learning everything there possibly was to learn. Unlike Becca, I lived for this place. There was nowhere I'd have rather been. Uncle Henry and I had that in common. And the bond that created between us only drove Becca and I further apart.
Once Becca hit high school, she ignored me altogether. I don't think we said a single word to each other for years. Once she graduated, she fled South Carolina without a trace. Other than the occasional letter or birthday card, Uncle Henry never saw his daughter again. But I stayed behind in her place. I had no interest in college or anywhere else. The Faire was all I needed. That and Uncle Henry, of course.
