About Last Car to Annwn Station:
One week to save the child, bargain with Death and get the girl…
Child Protective Services Attorney Maeve Malveaux is sure that Chrysandra Arneson needs to be rescued from her rich, powerful and abusive family. But how? Her boss won’t listen to her and neither will the judge. But after she gets taken off the case and sent on involuntary leave to get her out of the way, she’s determined to find out what’s going on.
She’s not counting on joining forces with Jill, the gorgeous law librarian from work, and a mismatched collection of fairy folk. Or getting the ghostly assistance of the long-defunct Minneapolis streetcar system. And, perhaps, even a hand from Death himself. Mae and Jill are about to be caught up in a supernatural power struggle that will take them on an adventure from the Uptown neighborhood in Minneapolis into faery realms and beyond. All they need is a dime for the streetcar fare and a little help from their new allies to be on their way. But will it be enough to save a little girl and get them where they need to go? They’ve only got a week to find out…
Excerpt:
“Hey, I thought you left hours ago.”
Mae looked up, startled by the voice. Jill frowned down at her and Mae gave her a lopsided smile. They had been office pals since Jill began working for the county a year ago, meeting socially outside of the office for drinks and lunches on a regular basis. Jill was younger than Mae, barely past thirty, and worked in the law library upstairs. She dressed conservatively and kept her hair up at work, exuding a “sexy librarian” aura, with her black hair, pale blue eyes and long legs. The men who worked in the Government Center were stupid for her. If Mae was being honest, she was a little stupid for Jill as well. Jill seemed mostly oblivious to the attention of her male coworkers. Mae hadn’t acted on her attraction to Jill, content to build a close friendship. For now…
“I’m nearly done.”
“Mae, sweetie, when was the last time you did something fun?”
Mae blinked in confusion. “I have fun. All the time.”
“Um-hmm.”
“Really!”
“Well, Miss Fun, I’m meeting Teresa, Stacy and some of the other girls in the building down at the Fine Line tonight for dancing, booze and hot, hot boys. And hot, hot girls. You’re welcome to come with.”
“On a Monday night?”
“That’s when the hot boys troll for football widows.”
“Maybe some other night. I’m really worn out.” Mae rubbed her head for emphasis. She appreciated the offer, but the noise and crowds of the Minneapolis club scene were the last thing she wanted to face tonight. “I think I’m going to wrap up and head home.”
“Suit yourself,” Jill said. “The offer stands if you change your mind.”
Turning back to her file after Jill walked away, Mae flipped through its contents. One of the serious concerns with this case was the lack of photographic evidence. Without pictures to document and corroborate the medical and police reports, Mae had trouble convincing the judge of the severity of the situation. When she had asked why there were no photos, her boss had shrugged and told her that by odd coincidence, every time photos of Chrysandra Arneson were taken, the camera failed or the memory card went bad.
Deciding she needed to go home before the migraine took full effect, she closed the folder and stuffed the entire manila-covered mess into her bag. She was not allowed to take files out of the office, but she knew the other lawyers did it. And maybe she’d spot something she hadn’t seen before if she looked at it later.
Mae rode the elevator to the lobby. Stopping at the security checkpoint long enough to claim her can of pepper spray, she stepped into the gathering dusk and made her way toward the light rail station.
Climbing aboard the sleek, modern machine, she closed her eyes and dozed for the short trip to Hennepin Avenue. At her stop, Mae checked her surroundings. There had been a rash of robberies along Hennepin in the last two weeks. A small, professionally dressed woman would present a tempting target. She stood with a group of people awaiting buses and checked to make sure the can of pepper spray she carried was within easy reach.
The ringing of a bell startled her. Mae took a step backward at the sight of a big yellow streetcar. She had heard there was a plan to bring back the old streetcars. “Heritage Lines,” Metro Transit called the resurgent machines. They would intersect the modern and highly popular Light Rail in downtown Minneapolis. She had not realized the streetcars were running, had not even noticed the tracks when she crossed the street.
Mae looked around. The open doors of the yellow streetcar beckoned. She glanced at her fellow travelers. No one seemed to notice the old streetcar. Mae read the route sign on the side of the car: “Hennepin Avenue Express.” She lived in Uptown, so the streetcar would work as well as a bus.
“The fare is ten cents, miss.”
She hesitated for an instant, starting to protest that she had a pass, but let her curiosity win out. Mae fumbled in her bag. Finding five tarnished pennies and a nickel, she dropped them into the fare box. The sturdy-looking man in an old-fashioned conductor’s suit offered her a slip of paper.
“Your transfer, miss. You’ll be needing that.”
She took the slip and turned toward the interior of the streetcar. Mae froze for an instant, then the car’s bell rang twice before it lurched, making Mae lose her balance. As the car rolled forward with a sharp clack-clack, she gazed in bewilderment at the other occupants.
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About Michael Merriam:
Michael Merriam is a writer, performer, poet, and playwright. He is the author of the steampunk series Sixguns & Sorcery, and his essays have appeared in Uncanny Magazine, Cast of Wonders, and Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine. His scripts have been produced for stage and radio, and he has appeared in the Minnesota Fringe Festival and StoryFest Minnesota. Like most artists, he has worked a variety of odd jobs over the years, including short order cook, late night radio disc jockey, international freight specialist, and manager of a puppet troupe. He lives in Minneapolis, MN with his wife and two exuberant cats. Visit his website at www.michaelmerriam.com.
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