Page 61 of Reptile Dysfunction
“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.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sloane
The town square glows with fairy lights as evening settles over Harmony Glen’s Revelation Day celebration. Lanterns sway in the gentle breeze, casting warm light across familiar faces now mingling freely—humans and monsters sharing food, stories, and the unique camaraderie that comes from five years of intentional integration.
From my position near the stage, I take it all in. Mayor Whitaker (my father, though tonight he’s firmly in his official capacity) tests the microphone while council members arrange themselves importantly in the front row. Sebastian and Aspen distribute programs, his snakes still sporting their patriotic bowties while she nails the theme in a red, white, and blue sundress. The Silver Swimmers hold court near the refreshmenttable, accepting congratulations for their “artistic triumph” while showing off videos on Dorothy’s tablet.
And Thad—my Thad—stands slightly apart, consulting with his team about security protocols. Even in celebration-appropriate attire (dress pants and a green button-down that makes his snakes’ scales pop), he maintains that enforcer alertness, scanning entrances and exit points with practiced efficiency.
Yet there’s a difference now. His intimidating presence doesn’t make people flinch or hurry past. Instead, business owners nod respectfully, children wave enthusiastically (several mimicking his water ballet poses), and even elderly humans stop to chat.
Sterling, as usual, shamelessly exploits his newfound celebrity. The iridescent snake wriggles with pride whenever someone compliments the water ballet, positioning himself front and center for optimal admiration. The other snakes maintain slightly more dignity, though several can’t resist showing off when young fans approach.
“Quite a change from last year’s celebration,” my mother observes, walking to me slowly, and oh-so-proudly, in her walker. Her recovery has progressed enough that she’s ditched the wheelchair, determined to attend the full event. “Remember how stiff everything was in years past? All those carefully scripted interactions and awkward photo opportunities?”
“Dad’s idea of controlled integration,” I agree, watching as he adjusts his tie for the twentieth time, ever the perfectionist. “This is better.”
“Much.” Her eyes follow my gaze to where Thad now stands, listening intently to something Mabel is telling him. “He’s good for you, you know. Brings out that rebellious streak I always hoped you’d develop.”
“Mom!”
“What? I married a politician. Doesn’t mean I wanted a polished, podium-ready daughter.” She adjusts her shawl with a mischievous smile. “Besides, I’ve always had a soft spot for anyone who could make Charles rethink his positions. Your Gorgon’s managed that more effectively than most.”
Before I can respond, the microphone squeals as Dad taps it. The crowd quiets, gathering closer to the stage where banners proclaim “Harmony Glen: Five Years United” in flowing script.
“Friends, neighbors, and honored guests,” he begins, his campaign voice in full effect. “Five years ago today, our community faced an unprecedented revelation—that monsters had been living among us all along.”
As he continues with the official narrative of integration challenges and triumphs, I catch Thad’s eye across the crowd. His snakes immediately perk up. Thad’s subtle wink makes my heart flutter embarrassingly. He really shouldn’t have such a hold on me. Well… who am I kidding? I love it.
“This year’s celebration is particularly special,” Dad continues, “as we recognize not just peaceful coexistence, but true integration. Monsters and humans working together, building businesses together, creating community together.”
The crowd murmurs approval, and I notice several monster business owners nodding appreciatively.
“Today, we announce a new chapter in that integration story. Following recent challenges—” a diplomatic reference to the Harrington Development scandal that still has the town buzzing “—we’ve seen extraordinary leadership emerge from within our monster community.”
My attention snaps into place. This wasn’t in the prepared remarks I’d reviewed.
“Thaddeus Fangborn, would you join me on stage?”
Thad’s snakes all freeze in surprise, then rise alertly as he makes his way through the parting crowd. He moves with that natural grace that first caught my attention at the pool, powerful yet controlled. Several snakes attempt to straighten themselves, clearly not expecting this public acknowledgment.
“Many of you know Thaddeus from the YMCA, where he teaches our children to swim,” Dad continues as Thad takes his place on stage. “Some of you may remember his rather… impressive performance this afternoon.”
Scattered laughter and applause follow, with the Silver Swimmers cheering enthusiastically from their positions near the punch bowl. Thad’s snakes droop slightly in embarrassment, though Sterling maintains his proud posture.
“But before the Revelation, Thaddeus served a different role in our community—one we’ve only recently come to fullyappreciate.” Dad turns toward him with surprising sincerity. “He was an enforcer, tasked with protecting both monsters and humans by maintaining necessary boundaries.”
The crowd stills, many clearly surprised by this direct acknowledgment of pre-Revelation roles.
