Was that my reflection?
It was moments like these that Tony Darrow felt the pangs of regret. Where he reflected on his life and its choices, and questioned how he had come to this particular point in time. What had he possibly been thinking, agreeing to come to this carnival when he knew he was a magnet for things strange, awkward, and embarrassing? Why did he think today would be different?
It was never different, Monday through Sunday, January through December.
Down in the dumps, Tony stared at himself in a mirror, his reflection warped and seeming to glare at him in a condescending and not particularly handsome way. It made him shrink back a bit, which just made the reflection facing him twist grotesquely. He shuddered and looked away from it. As his head turned he could have sworn he caught movement in the corner of his eye, but when he paused to look every thing was still once again.
He must have seen himself in a mirror while his eyes were shifting, was all.
Sighing, he walked on.
“Kyndall? Harmony? Nathan?” He called, his family apparently finding a quick way through the assembly of mirrors and trick walkways that he had managed to miss. He had been right next to them, almost walking in perfect sync with his wife, and then their footsteps had vanished. He just thought he had made a bad joke, and that was why no one laughed, but when he turned to look at them to defend himself he realized there was nothing but a reflection of himself at his side.
Simple solution: turn back and walk the way he had come.
“Dogby?”
Even the dog was not with him, which just made him nervous. Not that she was a particularly great guard dog, with her less than a foot of height, high pitched whine that failed to really be a bark, and her legs that seemed to be missing a joint. She was as useful as a safety blanket, but that was her purpose. He was getting a little tense now, and he wished he had her to cuddle and reassure himself with while pretending he was just making sure she wasn’t the one getting scared.
There was some movement to his left and he glanced over, seeing something small and red darting down a turn nearby. A moment of paranoia hit him, and he thought it might be a youma. He had to fight every instinct not to just power up right there and chase after it, or just punch his way out of this insufferable maze of himself.
He was really getting sick of that scared look he kept seeing on his face. He was forty years old!
Tony bumped into a wall in his mental abstraction, thinking the hall was longer than it was due to tricky reflections and a lack of attention that was crippling, and let out a yelp that not even a young girl would be jealous of. He moved to grab for it, thinking it would fall over. It did not, but his wild attempts to save it made his elbow slam into the mirror next to it, unrooting it from its rigging and sending it crashing to the ground. He stood stone still for a long time, then looked down at the ruined mirror and, he imagined, the years of bad luck that were ahead of him.
On the other side of the wreck was a very angry looking clown, who was shaking his head at Tony and silently confirming that he was, without a doubt, the biggest loser on the planet. The clown was five years old, likely dressed in his costume by his mother, but had really mastered that look of consternation and judgment. Tony felt compelled to apologize to him, but realized that he had no reason to do so, then considered blaming the broken mirror on him.
“It’s alright, I’m sorry if I scar-“
“THAT MAN BROKE THE GAME! HE’S CHEATING!”
Stunned by the little boy’s impressive lungs and penchant for fair play, Tony could only blink or a long moment.
“No, no, I am not trying to chea-“ something latched onto his arm and pulled him down a mirrored hall, toward a glowing green sign. The exit!
“I bet you were just going to stand there until someone came to yell at you, too,” the familiar voice of his less than honest son, Nathan, grunted. The teenager glowered at him as he turned his head to protest. It died on the air, though, because he had been going to do just that. Then pay for the damage. He did note, however, that Nate’s look of damning shame was not as good as the clown’s.
Nate pulled him out the door and hurried him along to a hiding place as shouting voices followed them out. They did not sound too happy, and were likely on the hunt for them now. Tony had not been giving any choice in the matter, and was now a fugitive of Carnie law. The sad thing was. he was used to this kind of thing and, despite himself, was actually having fun as they ran to hide. Were they bonding? This could be the moment he had been waiting for, the thing that helped them relate to one another, and help them become closer as father and son. Escaping trouble together. It seemed too perfect, really.
“Hey, Nathan, thanks for…”
The teen was gone.
“Sir, you need to come with me,” a gruff voice said. Tony turned to see a man in overalls and a festive hat that did not match the expression on his face or the grime on his body glaring at him seriously. At his side, the mini clown from It.
So much for bonding.
100
100
100
Bronze Coffee rolled 1 100-sided dice:
36
Total: 36 (1-100)
