Page 25 of Reptile Dysfunction (Harmony Glen #11)
Chapter Twenty-Three
T had
“I am not doing that to them.”
The offending items dangle from Iris’s arthritic but surprisingly strong fingers: a collection of miniature sequined bow ties, each smaller than a matchbox, designed specifically for snake-sized necks.
“It’s for visibility,” Iris insists, while Mabel and Dorothy nod enthusiastically from the edge of the pool.
"These new ones even have tiny LED lights embedded in the sequins—we tested them extensively to make sure they won’t shock your snakes.
The underwater lights will catch both the sequins and the LED effects beautifully. ”
“My snakes,” I inform her with as much dignity as one can muster while standing in YMCA-issued swim trunks, “are not accessories.”
Sterling betrays me by stretching toward the tiny bow ties with obvious interest, his iridescent scales catching the pool lights.
“See?” Iris brandishes the accessories triumphantly. “He understands the artistic vision.”
The “artistic vision” in question is the Silver Swimmers’ contribution to the Revelation Day celebration: a water ballet titled “Harmony in the Deep,” featuring yours truly as the centerpiece.
Somehow, in the chaos of Guardian Solutions’ sudden prominence and the Harrington protest scandal, I’d forced this particular commitment to the back of my mind.
Until today.
“The accessories are non-negotiable,” Mabel says, her voice carrying the authority of someone who taught third grade for forty years. “The audience needs to see your snakes clearly from the underwater viewing area.”
At the deep end of the Y’s pool, there’s a small viewing window—primarily used for filming swim technique—that’s being repurposed as a “theatrical element” for this aquatic disaster.
“Ridiculous,” I mutter, but my snakes look far too interested, especially Sterling, who’s now attempting poses in the reflection of the pool water. “I agreed to help, not to be the star attraction.”
“Oh, but you’re meant for the role,” Dorothy says, adjusting her floral swim cap. “The Protector of the Deep, who guides the lost swimmers home.”
“With interpretive underwater movements,” Iris adds, her gesture as fluid as her joints allow—which is to say, not very.
“And the dramatic finale where you emerge from the water to symbolize monsters revealing themselves!” Mabel concludes with so much enthusiasm that it should be illegal at eight in the morning.
A laugh from the doorway saves me from having to respond. Sloane stands there in a professional-looking suit, clearly on her way to some important meeting, yet she’s paused to witness my humiliation.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” she says, eyes dancing with amusement. “I just wanted to drop off the press release nearby about Guardian Solutions’ new contracts. But this is clearly more important.”
“Help me,” I mouth, but her grin simply widens.
“The artistic process is sacred,” she says solemnly, though her shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. “Besides, I wouldn’t miss the dress rehearsal for anything.”
“Traitor.”
“Oh good, you’re here!” Iris says to Sloane. “We need your opinion on the finale. Should Thaddeus emerge from the water with his arms raised majestically, or should he do the rippling snake motion with his whole body?”
My snakes actually perk up at the second option, the faithless reptiles.
“Definitely the rippling motion,” Sloane says without hesitation. “More dramatic.”
“I knew it!” Iris turns to me triumphantly. “See? Artistic vision.”
Mabel claps her hands. “Places, everyone! Let’s run through the opening sequence. Thaddeus, remember you enter from the deep end after our initial formation.”
The “initial formation” turns out to be the Silver Swimmers arranged in a loose circle, executing a synchronized backward-pedaling motion that’s meant to represent, as Dorothy explains, “The harmonious but separate existence of humans and monsters before the Revelation.”
“And then you surge from the depths,” Mabel continues dramatically, “representing the hidden world of monsters suddenly revealed!”
“Surge,” I repeat flatly. “From the depths.”
“With authority,” Iris confirms. “Masculinely.”
Sloane’s shoulders are shaking so hard now, I’m concerned for her health.
“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” I ask her pointedly.
“Canceled,” she says immediately, setting down her briefcase and taking a seat on the bleachers near the edge of the pool. “This is much more important for community relations.”
Before I can respond, a familiar voice echoes from the doorway. “Am I late for the artistic breakthrough of the season?”
Sebastian stands there with his snakes immaculately styled in their bowties—plaid today—Aspen beside him, trying and spectacularly failing to hide her grin.
“Just in time!” Dorothy calls. “We’re about to practice Thaddeus’s dramatic entrance!”
“Wouldn’t miss it for all the world.” Sebastian’s voice is shockingly serious as he settles beside Sloane. His snakes all bob in excitement, clearly enjoying my predicament. “Aspen brought the camera.”
“For historical documentation,” Aspen explains innocently. “And definitely not for showing at Sebastian’s bachelor party.”
I contemplate the possibility of simply sinking to the bottom of the pool and staying there, but my snakes are already arranging themselves into what they clearly believe is a performance-ready configuration.
“Fine,” I growl. “One rehearsal. No cameras.”
“Of course, dear,” Dorothy says, but I notice she doesn’t ask Aspen to put the camera away.
The next hour is a study in aquatic indignity. The Silver Swimmers, despite their age and infirmities, move through the water with surprising grace. I, on the other hand, feel like a cruise ship trying to execute ballet moves alongside kayaks.
“More fluid!” Mabel calls as I attempt to “emerge majestically” from the deep end for the sixth time. “Like you’re one with the water!”
“I’m one with my desire to disappear,” I mutter, but I try again, pushing off from the bottom with enough force to surge upward while executing the “rippling motion” they’re so enamored with.
Sebastian gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up that his snakes mirror by standing taller.
“Now, the protection sequence!” Iris calls, and the three swimmers begin their choreographed “distress” movements, flailing with determined enthusiasm while I circle them in what’s meant to be a protective pattern.
“Extend your arms more!” Dorothy instructs. “You’re creating a sanctuary!”
“That’s Sebastian’s ability, not mine,” I remind her, but I widen my movements, feeling like a particularly self-conscious shark.
“Now the reconciliation formation!” Mabel calls, and the three swimmers move to surround me, their arms extended in welcome as we rotate slowly, apparently representing “the circle of community acceptance.”
From the sidelines, I hear the unmistakable sound of Sloane trying to muffle her laughter behind her palm.
“And finally,” Iris announces, “the emergence! ”
This is the part I’ve been dreading. According to their vision, I’m to climb out of the pool via the stairs while they create a “pathway of acceptance” on either side, then execute a rippling motion on the deck that represents monsters and humans existing together in harmony.
As I haul myself up the stairs, water streaming off my snakes and skin, I catch sight of Sloane’s face. Instead of the mockery I expect, there’s something softer in her expression—affection mixed with pride.
“Beautiful!” Mabel claps as I complete the rippling motion, my dignity not just abandoned but buried at sea with full honors. “Now hold the final pose!”
The final pose, as it turns out, involves standing with arms extended while the Silver Swimmers arrange themselves around my feet in a fan pattern, their own arms raised to mimic my snakes.
“This,” I say to no one in particular, “is why I preferred working in the shadows.”
But my actual snakes seem to disagree. Several are swaying in what can only be described as an enthusiastic manner.
“Check the dictionary,” I mutter. “The word snake is synonymous with traitor.”
“I think it’s powerful,” Sloane says, approaching as the Silver Swimmers discuss costume adjustments among themselves. “In a surprisingly non-ridiculous way.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re not the one wearing light-up bowties.”
“No.” Her voice softens. “I’m saying it because I see what they’re trying to do. They’re telling the story of monsters and humans coming together through you—someone who used to protect through fear, now protecting through acceptance.”
Put that way, it sounds almost meaningful instead of absurd.
“Still ridiculous,” I insist, but my snakes belie my statement by standing even taller.
“Oh, absolutely,” she agrees with a grin. “But the best community events always are. Remember, the mayor and half the town council will be there, not to mention all those business owners considering your business for their security needs.”
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m providing perspective.” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “Besides, I happen to find slick, muscular Gorgons particularly attractive.”
Before I can respond to that dangerous statement, Iris calls from across the deck.
“Thaddeus! We need to discuss the final costume fitting! Dorothy wants to test the LED lights one more time to make sure they'll show up properly underwater!”
Sebastian, getting on my last nerve, immediately chimes in. “Perfect timing! I brought extra batteries for the LED components, just in case!”
Sloane pats my arm sympathetically. “Duty calls, Protector of the Deep.”
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” I growl.
“Maybe,” she admits. “But only because I love seeing this side of you—the one who agrees to wear blinking LED bowties and perform water ballet because three elderly women asked nicely.”
“Blackmailed,” I correct. “They definitely blackmailed me. Something about having photos of the Pilates incident.”
“Of course,” she says solemnly, then ruins it with another laugh. “Very intimidating.”
As I trudge back to the continuing costume debate, I can’t help but smile. Five years ago, being the center of attention like this would have been unthinkable. Enforcers worked in shadows, not spotlights.
But watching Sebastian’s proud expression, Aspen’s sisterly nod of acceptance, Sloane’s affectionate smile, and the Silver Swimmers’ genuine enthusiasm, I realize maybe there’s something to be said for stepping into the light.
Even if it means becoming the town’s most sparkly protector.