“Chad, have you got Buddy’s glass chilled? He’s going to want a cold one and some pickled eggs once he’s done with his speech,” said Kiko as the blond, awkward-looking young man, just turned eighteen, rushed past with unopened jars of pickled eggs. A middle-aged woman with her hair pulled back ran up to him. “What is it, Katie?”
“We need more chairs,” she said. “Everything’s already filled up out there.”
Kiko nodded. It was going to be a good year for it, then. He waved her toward the live display at the back of the store where they normally held their Mother Goose story time hour.
“Make sure Mother’s ready for the golden egg presentation,” he told her before moving to pull up more fold-up chairs from the basement. He smiled to himself as he worked. The town of Mount Angus, Wisconsin, in the middle of crop and dairy fields, had little to offer but the yearly Eggstravaganza each spring. Kiko’s egg-themed store, Yolks on You, had to get by the rest of the year on the odd tourist, various specialty classes, and online traffic, but this time of year, business was good. Very good.
He pulled the chairs into the parking lot, which had been cordoned off from cars, finding Katie was right. People were standing because all the chairs had been taken. He rushed over to a couple and their two kids immediately, unfolding a chair as he went.
“Here you are,” he said and was ignored. The children seemed excited enough, but there was an iciness between the couple, stiff like a brick wall. The clean-shaven man grabbed the chair from him without a word; the other, a man with dark stubble just the length Kiko preferred, shot the first a glare. He assisted Kiko in setting up the other three chairs and mumbled something that might have been a thanks. Kiko glanced back once at them as he sat up the rest of the chairs in time to see the second man pointedly ignore something the clean-shaven one said, picking up the younger child.
There wasn’t time for Kiko to daydream, though. Buddy Miller was unloading his mascot cow, Buddy Angus, from the trailer, and Katie stood near the microphone, holding Mother, Kiko’s goose, tightly in her arms. It was nearly time to begin. He rushed back inside the store to confirm Chad had everything under control before checking himself in the bathroom mirror. All in order.
Katie looked relieved when he approached the microphone; Mother looked surly in her arms. He asked for silence, waited while parents shushed their children. When it was as quiet as it was going to get, he began.
“Good morning! I’m Enrique Cooper, owner of Yolks on You, the control center for the Eggstravaganza. Any questions you have, come here to Yolks on You, and we’ll get you sorted.” He paused for parental chuckles. “Now, my good friend Buddy’s about to get us all started with the wreath ceremony here, but first, a little on the egg hunt. Kids twelve and under only, please. Eggs are hidden in businesses all around Mount Angus; find them and redeem prizes. Just take the egg to the counter of the business you find it at, got it? Simple. Oh, and there’s one super special egg, hidden somewhere in town. The golden egg.”
Kiko motioned to Katie, who gladly handed Mother over to him. Kiko made a production of finding a golden egg from under the goose, smiling at the murmur in the crowd when he did so.
“Anyone who finds the golden egg wins five-hundred dollars. Best of luck to you! Here’s Buddy.”
Buddy Miller, owner of the brewery, stepped eagerly up to the microphone as Kiko backed off. When Katie seemed reluctant to take the goose from him, he walked Mother back inside himself. He didn’t need to hear the brewmeister’s speech; he heard it every year. He’d be sure to announce the beer he made for just this event, a golden-hued ale. He’d make a big deal of acting like his Brown Swiss was actually an Angus, and place the painted egg-studded wreath around the cow’s neck to symbolize the beginning of the Eggstravaganza.
Kiko was on his way back outside when it happened. Buddy Miller had just placed the wreath around the cow’s neck, and had stepped back amid clapping to where Chad waited with a freshly poured beer and several pickled eggs. Kiko’s hand was on the door handle when the explosion went off, loud and sudden. Blood sprayed from the cow; it collapsed to the pavement.
Dead silence hung in the air for a moment. Blinking back shock, Kiko tore the door open and dashed out into screams and shouts, a new chaos enveloping him. Buddy dropped his half-eaten pickled egg to the pavement, Chad grabbing his beer glass as he fell to his knees.