Page 50 of Reptile Dysfunction
“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 waterwith 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 inwelcome as we rotate slowly, apparently representing “the circle of community acceptance.”
