Happy Land

By McKenzie Rae

Percy Fitzroy's family is known for being eccentric, but he never expected one of them to predict the end of the world over dinner. According to Grandma Iris, the apocalypse is due at the end of the month along with the credit card bills. What's more unexpected? Half the family believes her, and the other half goes on a crusade to prove her wrong.
With the parents of Percy's new sister-in-law coming to visit for Christmas, he now has twenty-five days to get his family's antics under control. The ensuing events, laced with household drama, will surely give Percy a Christmas he'll never forget—if he can survive it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crazy Ink
• Release date: Sep 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201559021

Book preview

Diagram Description automatically generated

Other Books Set in Delian City

Dreamer’s End

Starlight Park

To Justina and Dan—

Thanks for letting me borrow your names.

I promise to have them dry-cleaned once I’m done with them.

Prologue, Friday

3 December

A pleasant, warm haze surrounded Percy Fitzroy. The party was loud enough to drown out his thoughts, and the booze, though cheap, flowed free enough to buoy his spirits. He regarded the empty plastic cup in his hand and tried to recall the number of drinks he had consumed; he’d stopped counting somewhere after seven. To be honest, Percy wasn’t even sure which frat house he was currently at. This was either the second or third party he and his friends had hopped to that night.

Someone—a guy with blue hair and a sleeve of tattoos—pulled Percy off the couch where he had sprawled and dragged him to the front door. Unsure of where he was being led, but also afraid that he would vomit at the slightest provocation, Percy didn’t protest the change of venue.

The cold night air cooled the sweat that had been gathering under his arms and along the dip of his spine. He’d left his winter coat behind, but for the moment, that didn’t matter. He staggered down the sidewalk, following the back of the guy who led him out of the house. That guy’s back winked in and out of visibility as he walked through pools of white cast by the streetlights. Percy giggled a bit as he imagined being able to bounce from one circle of light to the next, like trampolines.

Ahead of him, Percy saw a girl sitting on the curb. Artificial red hair obscured her face. He thought he recognized that hair, as well as the black crop-top and the short, pink skirt. It was Carrie-Ann. She lived in the same dorm as him on a different floor, and if Percy remembered correctly—though he was having some trouble with that now—she was also the one who’d told him about the first party of the night.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, Carrie-Ann! Her name trailed off into giggles. Carrie-Ann’s head popped up and whipped to the side. Her red hair caught the cold, December breeze and created a halo around her head. Her dark eye makeup had smeared and most of her purple lipstick had been worn away.

Hey. Percy stopped and smiled down at her. Wanna ditch this place and hang with us? He made a clumsy gesture to the guy several feet ahead of Percy. He’d paused and was shouting for Percy to hurry up.

Carrie-Ann shook her head and wiped her runny nose on the back of her arm. No, I just wanna go home.

Used to seeing her easy smile around the dorm, it struck Percy as odd that there was no trace of it now. Carrie-Ann’s expression was drawn and somber. Were those tear tracks in the remnants of her makeup?

Hey, Percy! Hurry up!

When he hesitated, Carrie-Ann forced her lips into the facsimile of a smile, except the hollow look in her eyes never changed. It struck a haunting chord somewhere deep inside Percy, one that quickly began to sober him up faster than the cold air alone. Had something happened to her between the first party and this one? He couldn’t remember...

Go on, Fitzroy, she said. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Unsure what exactly was going on with her, Percy did as she suggested. However, the pools of white light on the sidewalk no longer made him feel buoyant. As he walked away from Carrie-Ann’s slouched figure, the night seemed to grow thicker. Leaving its dark, sticky fingerprints all over campus.

Saturday

1 December

One Year Later

Percy Fitzroy thought that he had never hated his name more than when the barista at Starbucks gave him a look that said, Really? That’s your name? Despite her incredulity, she dutifully wrote it on his cup and called out that name when his order was ready. He had hated his name in school too, but back then, his older brother and his best friend had been more than willing to dole out beatings to anyone who mocked him for the moniker. Percy had a decent right hook himself as well.

He took his coffee to a table and sat down to wait. By the time his older brother, Bo, showed up, Percy’s coffee was half gone.

The only person who had a name as bad as Percy’s was his brother: Beauregard Fitzroy. And that was only if Percy wasn’t going by his full name: Percival Fitzroy Junior. As if Percival wasn’t bad enough, the junior somehow made it worse. He could imagine the look that the barista would give him if she also had to scrawl junior on his coffee cup. At least his brother got to shorten his name to Bo.

From his table, Percy watched Bo go through the line and place his order. When Bo picked up his coffee and turned around, his eyes suddenly landed on Percy. It was clear that he hadn’t expected Percy to beat him to their meeting place. Not that he could blame Bo for his surprise; in the past, Percy hadn’t been known for punctuality.

If anyone looked at Bo and Percy, standing side by side, they probably wouldn’t guess that the two men were brothers. Bo had dark hair, dark eyes, and chiseled features. He’d always made a conscious effort to dress well and to keep himself neat and clean. Percy’s appearance was much more laissez-faire, but even the things that were out of his control were somehow lesser than his brother’s. His brown hair was lighter and mousier, his features softer than Bo’s. Not to mention that Percy had attempted to dye his hair blond several months ago, for reasons that had made sense at the time but that he now couldn’t recall. It wasn’t the golden blond he’d been shooting for; it was more of an ashy gray color, his darker roots visibly growing out at the base.

Bo walked to the table and draped his coat over the back of a chair. "Percy, thanks for meeting me. Sorry I’m late, but I kind of figured that you would be later."

A year ago, you would’ve been right. Percy leaned forward and fist-bumped his brother. Hey, Bo. How was the honeymoon?

Bo smiled. The honeymoon was great. His expression faded into something more sober. Actually, Justina is why I wanted to talk to you.

Percy arched an eyebrow. You want to talk to me about your brand-new wife that you somehow tricked into joining this family?

The look Bo shot him took Percy back to adolescent days of pranks and sibling rivalry. Can you be serious for a minute, please?

Holding up one placating hand, Percy leaned back in his chair and took a swig of coffee, prepared to hear his brother out. Bo also took a sip before diving into his explanation.

"Family is very important to Justina. When her parents fly into town on Christmas Eve, she wants them to meet the rest of our family."

Right. Percy nodded. I’m guessing that you want me to make up a reason why our family can’t visit, so you’re not technically lying to her.

No. Bo vigorously rubbed his forehead. When he spoke again, it looked like it physically pained him. I want you to make sure our family is on their best behavior while my in-laws are here...and for the two weeks that Justina and I are going to be staying at the house before that.

What? Percy nearly dropped his coffee cup in his lap. "I’m sorry, I couldn’t have heard that correctly. You want me to play circus master for two whole weeks?"

I’ll help you! His brother was quick to assure him. But you’ve always been better at modifying their behavior. You know, when you weren’t also contributing to our family’s reputation.

Percy’s instinct was to snap back, picking at what few flaws Bo had, but he stopped at the last second. He reminded himself that he was trying to be a better person, even if no one except him appreciated it. Besides, Bo wasn’t wrong about Percy’s past behavior and the rest of the Fitzroy family’s iniquitous reputation. Which was precisely why it was a bad idea for Bo to bring his lovely, innocent wife to their childhood home for the holidays. From the minute Bo and Justina had started dating, Percy had been of the opinion that she was far too good for their family.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Percy realized that was exactly why he needed to help Bo. Justina didn’t deserve to have her Christmas ruined by the Fitzroys.

Percy let his head fall back with a heavy sigh. Okay, fine. I’ll do it.

***

I could be wrong, but that sounds like a bad idea.

Back at the Fitzroy mansion, Percy tore apart his bedroom. At the same time, he gave his best friend Dan a hasty summarization of his meeting with Bo. Dan sat on the bed, watching as Percy sifted through the clutter of his room.

It definitely is, Percy agreed. He’s determined to do it anyway, though. I’m only warning you about this because you’ve picked up a few bad habits from my family, and I don’t want you scaring away my sister-in-law.

Dan’s dark eyebrows drew together in a frown. He sat up straight and folded his arms over his chest. What bad habits?

Well, for starters, you called my grandmother an ‘evil raisin’ when she walked in on you in the shower this morning.

"Hey, that was the fourth time she’s done that to me in the last two weeks, and I swear I remembered to lock the door! At this point, it has to be deliberate. Plus, he added, hopping up from the messy bed, if I had a dime for every time that I’ve heard you and Eliza call her an evil raisin, I’d be richer than Warren Buffett."

You’re not disproving my point, Dan.

Percy moved to his desk on the other side of the room and began opening drawers. He really needed to give his bedroom a deep clean. But the mess never bothered him except when he was trying to locate a particular item that inevitably turned out to be lost in the jumble of clothes, books, DVDs, video games, and knick-knacks.

Running a hand through disheveled black hair, Dan looked around briefly before picking up a ring of keys that had been tucked halfway under a dirty plate on the bedside table. Looking for these?

Dan tossed the keyring across the room and into Percy’s outstretched hands. Now I remember why I’m friends with you, he said with a smirk.

Don’t tell me you’re going to clean Bo’s old bedroom for him! Dan called after him as Percy made his way down the hallway. "He doesn’t deserve that after all the trouble he went through to not invite us to his wedding."

I’m not doing it for him! Percy yelled back. He shook the keyring until he caught hold of the one that would open Bo’s bedroom door. I’m doing it for Justina.

That poor woman would have enough to deal with when she and Bo arrived at the Fitzroy mansion. The least Percy could do was make sure she wasn’t sneezing on dust every night.

***

Once he was finished tidying up Bo’s old bedroom—it had been turned into a dumping ground for stuff nobody wanted anymore but was too lazy to bring to the end of the driveway on garbage day—Percy made his way to his grandparents’ suite. Upon entering the sitting room, he found Grandma Iris in the process of drawing the curtains, blocking the sun and reestablishing the spooky semi-darkness that she preferred. Taking his keyring to a wooden cabinet, Percy unlocked it and selected his grandmother’s lunchtime pills from the many rows of medicines.

Juggling three different bottles, Percy re-locked the cabinet. Ready for lunch, Grandma?

The old woman grunted and shuffled to her favorite couch where she had a plain view of a boxy television set. It looked like their cook, Eugenia, had already delivered Iris's lunch of strawberry jam sandwiches on white bread, slices of banana, and a small glass of white wine. There was also a pitcher of water on the coffee table. Percy poured a glass and set it in front of Iris along with the proper doses of each medication. As he laid everything out, he felt her unhappy gaze attempting to burn holes in him.

You haven’t fixed your hair yet, she grumbled in a faint, ambiguous accent. Percy looked up to find his thin, wrinkled grandmother critically eyeing his blond hair. She was so small that the couch cushions overpowered her and sucked her into their embrace, but that didn’t make her flinty gaze any less intimidating. Why haven’t you fixed it?

Because, he said as he nudged an oblong white pill and the glass of water closer to her, I’d rather be ultra-blond for a few more weeks than bald.

His hair had taken on a brittle, stringy texture after his ill-fated, home dying adventure. Male pattern baldness didn’t run in the Fitzroy family, but Percy was reluctant to test fate, nonetheless.

Iris grunted again, not looking at all appeased, and went straight for her glass of wine. Percy was a little surprised that she didn’t have anything meaner to say about his hair; the first time she saw it, she’d asked him if he was going to start bringing boys home instead of girls. It had been a while since he’d brought anyone home to meet his family, but he had still correctly interpreted his grandmother’s bigoted comment as the insult she’d meant it to be.

Sitting in the armchair beside the couch, Percy let his grandmother pick at her food and watch her daytime talk shows for a few minutes without bugging her about her meds. When he eventually had to put the pill directly in her hand, Iris's only response was to wrinkle her pointed nose at him before popping the pill into her mouth and swallowing it dry. Percy raised his eyebrows at the lack of fuss on her part.

You’re awfully quiet today, Grandma. You feeling okay?

I’m tired, she snapped back.

Oh? Didn’t you sleep well last night?

No. Too many lights outside.

Well, that’s the reality of living in an urban environment like Delian City. Maybe it’s time to move to a nice nursing home out in the suburbs.

Iris took one of her pills and flicked it at his face. Percy sat motionless for a moment, clenching his teeth and silently reminding himself that she was an old, frail woman who would break into a thousand pieces if he hit her. Then he bent over and picked up the pill.

They weren’t city lights! she spat at him. I have lived in Delian City ever since I came to this country, so I know the difference between city lights and strange lights in the sky.

Percy was about to put another pill directly in the palm of her hand when he paused. Lights in the sky?

He knelt on the floor and peered up at her face. Iris Fitzroy was notorious for lacking a sense of humor; therefore, it was almost impossible to discern whenever she did attempt to joke. As always, her face was wrinkled and sour. There was no hint that she was being anything less than serious.

What lights? he persisted.

Iris sniffed and averted her gaze, as if she was trying to look around him to see the TV, but there was an air of nervousness about her actions rather than her typical derisive attitude.

They’re a sign, she muttered. "That everything is coming to an end. That is why I couldn’t sleep."

Everything?

Yes, Iris replied impatiently. Everything on this earthly plane will be destroyed. Soon by the looks of things. This world is going to hell in a handbasket.

She trailed off, muttering to herself, and her complaints about the world took a decidedly racist turn. Sensing no point in arguing with her any further, Percy stood. Getting his family’s insanity under control was not off to an auspicious start.

***

Percy wandered around the dark, almost empty mansion in search of his dad. He crept around corners and peered into rooms before entering them. Though he hadn’t come across his father yet, he also hadn’t bumped into his stepsister. As Percy poked his head into the library, he wondered if Eliza had gone to a friend’s house.

Looking for something, surfer boy?

Percy closed his eyes and sighed. To make the devil appear, you had only to speak his name. But apparently, all he had to do to summon Eliza Thorley was think of her. He turned and found his stepsister lounging in a padded window seat with a novel bearing an old, battered cover. Her long, straight hair fell in brown curtains on either side of her face, framing the smirk that Percy so hated.

Why does everyone feel obligated to comment on my hair? he complained.

Oh, I don’t know, Eliza replied as she flipped a page. For me, it might have something to do with how you convinced my ex-boyfriend that our house was haunted by evil spirits.

Technically, that was true. Our grandparents live here.

Eliza dropped the smirk and curled her lips.

You also made him half believe that I was possessed.

You don’t know if that was the reason he broke up with you.

You drove him back to Catholicism, Percy!

He tossed his hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine! I’m sorry, Eliza. But maybe