Page 30 of Reptile Dysfunction (Harmony Glen #11)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

T had

“Five minutes until curtain!” Iris’s voice carries across the Y’s locker room with the authority of a drill sergeant. “Places, everyone!”

I catch my reflection in the mirror and barely recognize myself. Gone is the intimidating enforcer who once kept both humans and monsters in line. In his place stands… whatever this is.

“You look…” Sebastian searches for the right word, his own snakes immaculately styled in celebration-appropriate red, white, and blue bowties.

“Ridiculous?” I supply.

“I was going to say ‘transformative,’” he grins. “Very symbolic of monster integration.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Years of being the proper, responsible older brother,” he says with undisguised glee. “Let me have this moment.”

From the pool area, excited voices filter in.

The Revelation Day celebration is in full swing, with the water ballet scheduled as the afternoon highlight before the evening’s more formal ceremonies.

According to Sloane, half the town is already seated around the pool, including her parents, the town council, and representatives from every business that’s signed with Guardian Solutions.

“No pressure,” I mutter to my reflection.

A soft knock at the door interrupts my moment of self-doubt. Sloane pokes her head in, eyes widening at the full effect of my performance attire.

“Wow,” she says, entering fully. “That is… impressively sparkly.”

“If you laugh, we’re breaking up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” But her lips twitch suspiciously. “I just wanted to tell you that there’s an unexpected VIP in the audience.”

“Who?”

“Valeria Melrose from Regional News Network. She’s covering the celebration for her integration series.” Sloane’s professional excitement shines through. “This could go statewide.”

My snakes all freeze in horror. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Would it help if I were?”

“No,” Sebastian chimes in cheerfully. “But it does add a certain dramatic tension to the performance!”

Before I can respond with appropriate brotherly threats, Dorothy appears in the doorway, resplendent in her floral swim cap and sequined senior swimsuit.

“Places, everyone! The music is about to start!” She pauses, taking in my full appearance with misty-eyed approval. “Oh, Thaddeus. You look magnificent .”

Magnificent is not the word I would choose, but my snakes pick up on her genuine emotion, several softening and leaning toward her.

“Break a leg,” Sloane says, squeezing my hand. “But not literally. Your company has too many contracts for you to be on disability. Besides, we don’t need another injury.”

“Your support is overwhelming,” I deadpan.

“I’ll be front row center,” she promises. “Right next to the mayor and the news crew.”

Fantastic. Nothing completes public humiliation like high-definition video coverage.

Despite my objections, the opening notes of “Under the Sea” (the Silver Swimmers’ musical selection) filter through the speakers. Sebastian gives me a thumbs up before heading to join Aspen in the audience. Sloane’s parting kiss leaves me momentarily forgetting my impending doom.

Until Iris pokes her head in. “NOW, Thaddeus!”

The pool area has been transformed with underwater lighting, making the water glow an ethereal blue.

Bleachers surround three sides, packed with familiar faces—townspeople who once whispered fearfully about the intimidating Gorgon enforcer, now clutching programs that describe me as “The Protector of the Deep.”

At the viewing window in the deep end, children press their faces eagerly, waiting for the performance to begin. If I don’t miss my count, every one of my students is there, most of them giving me jubilant thumbs ups.

The Silver Swimmers take their positions, creating their opening formation as the music swells. I wait at the deep end ladder, mentally reviewing the choreography that’s been drilled into me over countless humiliating rehearsals.

“And now,” Mayor Whitaker’s voice announces over the sound system, “the Harmony Glen YMCA Silver Swimmers present ‘Deep Harmony: A Celebration of Integration,’ featuring special guest Thaddeus Fangborn!”

Polite applause turns to audible gasps as the underwater lights shift to spotlight the deep end where I’m positioned. Taking a deep breath, I slide into the water and push off from the wall, executing what Mabel calls the “majestic underwater approach.”

Through the viewing window, I see children’s faces light up as the LED lights on my snakes’ bowties activate underwater, creating the intended “magical effect.” Despite my embarrassment, there’s something unexpectedly powerful about their delighted expressions—no fear, just wonder.

Surfacing in the center of the Silver Swimmers’ formation, I execute the rippling motion that’s meant to symbolize monsters revealing themselves. The audience’s reaction is a mix of surprised laughter and genuine applause.

From my vantage point in the water, I catch glimpses of familiar faces—Sebastian grinning widely, Aspen filming with her phone, Mayor Whitaker looking surprised but impressed. And Sloane, front and center as promised, her expression a flawless blend of amusement and pride.

The routine progresses with surprising smoothness. Silver Swimmers glide with unexpected elegance for women their age, flowing around me as I execute my “protective patterns.” Sequined costumes catch the LED glow, scattering shimmering reflections across the water’s surface and the ceiling above.

For the rescue sequence, Dorothy, Mabel, and Iris perform their choreographed “distress,” which I’m sure looks more dramatic than the actual drowning it’s meant to represent. I circle them protectively before guiding them to “safety,” all while maintaining what Iris calls my “commanding presence.”

Through it all, I keep catching Sloane’s eye. Each time, she gives me a subtle nod or smile that somehow makes this entire ridiculous situation feel worthwhile.

The finale approaches—the emergence sequence that the Silver Swimmers have been most excited about.

Taking a deep breath, I execute the underwater flip that propels me toward the steps.

Rising from the water with deliberate slowness, I feel water cascading from my snakes as the lights hit their sequined bow ties from all angles, creating a kaleidoscope effect that draws appreciative murmurs from the audience.

The Silver Swimmers arrange themselves in their fan formation around me as I complete the final rippling motion that represents monsters and humans in harmony. As the music builds to its conclusion, I raise my arms in the practiced gesture that Dorothy insisted would be “cinematically powerful.”

The applause is immediate and surprisingly enthusiastic. Children at the viewing window bang excitedly on the glass. Several monster business owners rise for a standing ovation, quickly joined by others until most of the audience is on their feet.

Through my water-blurred vision, I see Sloane clapping and laughing, her eyes shining with something that looks suspiciously like pride. Next to her, the RNN reporter is scribbling notes while her cameraman continues filming.

“Take a bow!” Iris hisses, nudging me with her elbow.

As I bow, water still dripping off my snakes, something unexpected happens.

Although my snakes have been surprisingly well-behaved throughout the performance, they suddenly abandon all pretense of choreographed dignity and begin their own impromptu bow sequence.

Sterling leads the charge, positioning himself front and center where the most cameras are aimed, his sequined bow tie glittering magnificently.

The audience gasps, then bursts into delighted laughter and even louder applause. Children squeal with excitement at the viewing window, jabbing little fingers toward my snakes, who bask shamelessly in the attention.

“They’re worse than toddlers,” I mutter. My snakes are simply doing what I’ve finally learned to do—stepping fully into the light, unapologetically themselves.

As we exit the pool, my snakes continue their impromptu performance, swaying in greeting to audience members who approach with congratulations. Sterling, unsurprisingly, positions himself for optimal exposure, creating poses that would make runway models envious.

“That,” Sebastian says, approaching with Aspen, “was something I never thought I’d live to see.”

“Me neither,” I admit. My snakes immediately arrange themselves in their natural formation, their tiny bow ties still somehow perfectly positioned despite the underwater performance, though several continue to show off for nearby cameras.

“Uncle Thad!” A breathless Milo, Aspen’s five-year-old son, races over to join us from where he had been watching next to his best friend, Tyler, at the viewing window.

“You are really sparkly. All the kids think you were GREAT. You’re the BEST uncle in the whole world.

” This said with a tight hug around my wet legs, oblivious to the fact that he is getting soaked.

I put my hand on his head. “Thanks, Milo. That means the world to me. You’re my favorite nephew.” He pulls back from the hug as Sebastian reaches for him and swings him up onto his broad shoulders, much to Milo’s squealing delight.

“You were amazing.” Sloane appears at my side with a large towel, somehow managing to look both polished and utterly kissable in her celebration attire. “The Regional News Network wants an interview.”

“About the water ballet?”

“About Guardian Solutions, actually.” Her eyes sparkle with barely contained excitement.

“Apparently, word has spread about your unique approach to security. They’re doing a feature on innovative monster-owned businesses.

And hey,” she playfully punches my shoulder, “who wouldn’t want to work with such a cuddly and approachable guy? ”

“From water ballet to television,” I mutter. “Quite the evolution.”

“Speaking of evolution,” Sloane says, lowering her voice, “you’ve transformed more than just your purpose. You’ve made me rethink everything I thought I wanted.”

My snakes all swivel her way together, like a chorus line suddenly remembering they’ve got the same cue.

“I’ve been thinking too,” I say, aware of the public setting but suddenly not caring who hears. “And I think—”

“Thaddeus!” Iris interrupts, approaching with a local reporter in tow. “Channel Five wants a statement about your performance!”

Sloane squeezes my hand. “Later,” she mouths, stepping back to let me handle the media attention that apparently comes with being “The Protector of the Deep.”

As I answer questions about the symbolic meaning of the water ballet (mostly making up meaningful-sounding interpretations on the spot), I keep Sloane in my peripheral vision.

She’s talking animatedly with the RNN reporter, occasionally gesturing toward me or the Guardian Solutions logo prominently displayed on banners around the celebration.

As the media attention finally fades and the celebration shifts toward the evening’s more formal events, I find Sloane waiting by the exit. Her smile makes every snake on my head sway with pleasure.

“Ready for the next part?” she asks, offering her hand. “The mayor’s speech, the official Guardian Solutions announcement, and probably more interviews.”

“As long as I don’t have to wear those damn flashy-blinky bowties again,” I say, taking her hand and letting my snakes reach toward her hopefully.

“Don’t worry,” she grins. “Though I think you’ve started something. The Silver Swimmers are already planning next year’s performance. Something about ‘Sequins Under the Sea: The Return.’”

My snakes visibly deflate, making her laugh.

“I’m kidding,” she assures me, then adds with mock seriousness, “Probably.”

After changing my clothes, we leave the YMCA and head toward the town square where the evening ceremonies will take place.

I’m struck by a sudden certainty: whatever comes next—whether it’s business expansion or media attention or even another water ballet—I want to face it with the amazing, wonderful woman beside me.

The woman who walked into my pool wearing inappropriate footwear and asked questions nobody else dared to ask.

The woman who saw past the enforcer to everything underneath.

The woman who somehow made evolution feel like coming home.