Reunion

Bright canvases and afternoon bustles were shifting into something new. Fireflies replaced the sun in slow, buzzing green across the alleys. The nightlife was in full swing now.

They followed Bart through a narrow lane of tent walls and ropes toward the last open space he’d managed to secure. He seemed quietly pleased with himself. What they didn’t know was how questionable his standards truly were.

He stopped at the end of a row and lifted the curtain flap with a small, satisfied gesture. “Here we are.”

"Um, what am I looking at?" Willow asked, standing in the entrance of the room.

The space was technically a room. Canvas walls formed the edges, one a purposeful divider to separate rooms, and the fourth a heavy curtain that didn’t quite meet the ground. A single lantern hung from a pole, casting warm light over a low crate serving as a table, two huge beds and a chair missing half its back piece. The floor was a carpet with plenty of dust, clearly not cleaned in years.

Gus stepped in behind her and tilted his head to examine every nook and cranny. “Cozy.”

Rico opened the flap farther and looked up at the sloping canvas roof. “I can hear everything.”

As if to confirm his concerns, a carny outside shouted in triumph and a crowd released a wave of delighted screams.

Bart set his bag down with quiet approval. “It's very open and is in close proximity to everything we need. Just what you asked me for.”

Joren nudged the crate with his boot, testing its stability. It swayed once, then settled in the opposite direction.

"Can't we get somewhere else? This is terrible, Bart." Willow pleaded.

"Nope, this was the last one! I think it's great, lots of space for prizes." He responded.

Gus set the remaining food on the crate and brushed a clean patch with his sleeve before sitting on the broken wooden chair. “We’ve slept in worse.”

Willow pushed lightly against the canvas wall and watched it sway, light from outside filtering through. Music bled through the fabric giving no reprieve from the city life. It took a special kind of person to want to live this kind of life.

Joren listened a moment, then set his things down on the bed. "If we must stay here, I'm at least going to see what goes on during the night here. Spend the least amount of time in this room, you know?"

Willow turned immediately, already smiling. “That is the best idea you’ve had today. Though, the pretzels were a close second.”

Gus stood, brushing something from his pants. “I haven't been to a carnival in years. I think I want to try one of those hammer games."

"Oooo, can I join you?" Willow asked, to which Gus nodded.

"I would like to try the claw machines. I want to see if one will talk with me." Bart chimed in, still pleased with himself for getting the room.

Rico thought for a moment. "Might see if they have any shows going on. Plenty happened at Pulleytown, but I bet they have even better ones here."

That seemed to get Bart's attention. "Oh, that sounds delightful. Perhaps a large beast we can ride will be here."

"Does that mean I have to go with you to the claw machines?" He asked, not happy about the prospect of missing any shows going on.

"Oh, we could go to one after a show if that's acceptable."

“Fine with me.”

"I just want to check around and see what's here. I've never seen anything like this before." Joren said to everyone.

The night air met them in chilly embrace, the allure of fun enticing each of them forward to their own destination. They split into three groups, each with their own priorities and ambitions.

Joren thought about the last time he was on his own. It must have been before he left Brindlewood. With no destination in mind and no plan to adhere to, it was a bit scary without his friends taking charge of the parts of the adventure he rarely did.

The first thing that caught his attention was the giant wheel reaching towards the sky, moving sluggishly and peacefully.

The name of the wheel was a Ferris wheel, according to signs scattered about. Its slow rotation and lack of screaming or loud noises seemed almost out of place amid the motion and activities of this city. Painted signs posted along the rail lured in wandering eyes, the letters looping in bright colors and fun fonts.

Joren slowed near the ropes, watching the lights turn against the line of people in front of him. Riders drifted upward in twos, threes, and even fours in capsules. It was confusing to comprehend, but Joren wanted to try it out at least once. The line shuffled forward in small, unhurried steps as one group got off for another to hop in. The people in line didn't seem to mind either as they talked with their group or partners.

Being alone shouldn’t have felt strange to Joren, he had spent most of his life that way after all. Yet somewhere between that day he departed Hazel's till now, it's felt like this has always been his life. It wasn't correct to call it structured, but chaotic structure seemed appropriate for a term of how they operated each day.

Joren leaned against the post while he waited for the line to move. After twenty minutes of taking it all in, he was nearly up.

“…and I told him if the goat wanted the ribbon that badly, he should’ve trained it better!”

A burst of laughter rose from somewhere back in the line, to which Joren glanced over his shoulder.

A tall man stood several places behind him, gesturing loosely with a paper cup as he spoke to two strangers who looked delighted to have been pulled into the story. His coat hung open and sleeves rolled up despite the chill, his posture relaxed like he’d known them all his life. Lantern light caught the edge of an easy grin.

“…so the judge gives me the ribbon anyway,” the man finished, “and I sold it to him after for 30 silver."

The strangers laughed. One clapped him on the shoulder like they were old friends.

Joren stared a moment longer, trying to place where he had seen this person before. It was hard to tell with the lighting, but he knew that he knew this person somehow. As a light post nearby flickered, it all clicked into place at once.

It was Tsunami.

Sensing the weight of being watched, he turned to look forward in line. His eyes landed on Joren, and for half a heartbeat the noise seemed to fall away.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he called over the low hum of conversation. “Didn't think I'd see you here."

A few people nearby chuckled, assuming the greeting was part of the ongoing story, only to watch the life of the party walk away and cut the line to join a friend. He stopped beside Joren as if the months between them were nothing more than a pause in conversation.

“Still standing,” Tsunami said, giving him an easy once-over. "So that must mean you left your hometown, huh?"

Joren let out a small breath through his nose, his grin showing more emotion than his voice. “Yeah. Lots happened since then."

"Then that gives us perfect time to catch up on the Ferris wheel," he said, nudging him with his elbow, "I think I cut in line a few spots, so I won't turn around in case someone wants to complain about it."

“I think you’re safe,” Joren said. "The people in line seem pretty unbothered in general."

“Confidence is key,” Tsunami replied.

The attendant lifted the latch and waved them forward. A capsule door swung open with a soft metallic click as the previous riders stepped out smiling, still mid-conversation.

Tsunami held the door with easy familiarity. “After you, Joren.”

Joren ducked inside, the bench creaking faintly under his weight as he sat down. Tsunami followed, settling opposite him and pulling the door shut with a tug.

“Well,” Tsunami said, bracing one hand on the frame as they began their ascent, “start from the beginning, I want to hear all about what's happened since we last saw each other."