Page 27 of Reptile Dysfunction
“I can’t tell you how much it means to us that you’re installing this hell pit,” a demon father gushes. “My daughter, Lucy, has been wanting to stretch her demonic wings for some time now, and we’ve always felt something was missing. It’s hard for kids like that to find inclusive environments, but this addition to the kids’ playground is a really progressive move for Curiosity.”
A round of applause erupts from the other parents who echo the father’s sentiments, and once again, I get the feeling their gratitude is genuine. It throws me off a little, and despite myself, I start to wonder if maybe I was a little off track with my assumptions about the mayor.
That thought only gains traction as one of the councilors stops the mayor on his way out of the conference room.
“Oh, and happy birthday, Mason!” she says sweetly. “I know you don’t have time for a real celebration, but I hope you’re having a wonderful day, anyway!”
She says it after I’ve already left the room, and I only overhear because I’ve left my notebook behind. There’s no way that could have been staged, and I wonder if I’ve been wrong about Mayor Wendall this whole time. If this really is his birthday, and he hasn’t even mentioned it to me… maybe he actually is the hard-working, dedicated civil servant that everyone makes him out to be.
A knot of guilt starts to settle in my stomach, and I push it down until I barely feel it anymore. There’s still the rest of the day for him to slip up, and I decide to hold onto my judgments until I’ve seen more.
But the ‘more’ that I see only serves to drive the point home. The mayor forgoes his lunch break to attend the Pickle Fest meeting, at which the other councilors congratulate him on the economic boost the festival has brought to the town under his leadership.
I hear that he’s put a significant amount of his own money into sponsoring the event and how he himself is involved with the hands-on set-up and running of the festival.
When we rush out to the next event, I’m already exhausted but the mayor is as enthusiastic as ever. If this is an act, he’s an incredibly good actor. Maybe I should suggest a career change.
Instead, I ask him questions in between each item on his busy agenda. Even though I’m supposed to just be an observer, I can’t help but grow more and more curious with every passing moment. I am a journalist after all, I reason, and as the day goes by, I’m surprised by how interested I find myself becoming.
We’re chatting animatedly by the time we get to The Monster Next Door community event, and he ends up introducing me as he greets each resident individually. I’m not shocked by this point to find he even knows each of them by name.
“Hello, Suzie!” he calls to a little girl. “Hello, Mrs. Windstrop. It’s nice to see you both here! I don’t know if you’ve met Charlotte Lieberman, from the Herald?”
This continues, with various other citizens greeting the mayor with genuine happiness and him introducing me as if we’re good friends. If it wasn’t so pleasant, it would be disconcerting, given our history and all.
But I get the feeling he’s being genuine and so are his constituents. One oozing slime monster even comes up and shakes the mayor’s hand warmly.
“I just want to thank you so much for introducing a slime option in the school cafeteria,” says the genderless blob. “I can’t tell you how much time and money it’s saved me now that I don’t have to send little Zlorp in with a bagged lunch every day. Not to mention they were always losing half of it in transit.”
Mayor Wendall doesn’t even flinch when he pulls his hand away covered in slime and instead carries on a full conversation, only pulling out a handkerchief after the parent has left.
And at the evening’s Geriatric Vampire Association fundraiser, the mayor runs the charity auction with gusto. I know he must be exhausted, but somehow he never complains, never falters, and never slips up. He’s the perfect gentleman to everyone he meets and even the vampires are impressed, who are not an easy crowd at the best of times.
“Mayor Wendall!” says one gummy old vampire. “That was wonderful!”
The woman grasps his hand tightly, giving him a wide, toothless grin.
“I’m so glad you thought so, Mrs. Rice,” he replies, not skipping a beat. “I do hope it’s a help to your cause.”
The woman manages to grin even wider. “You just wait, Mr. Mayor,” she says. “The next time you see me, you’d better watch out for my fangs!”
The two burst into peals of laughter, and I’m oddly touched by the exchange. What if maybe this act isn’t an act after all?
16
MASON
I have an unusual spring in my step when I wake up this morning — even more than normal — and I don’t quite realize what it is until I’m in the office and making a big pot of black coffee for when Charlotte arrives.
“Morning, Mayor Wendall,” she says, entering the office for another day of shadowing.
“Good morning, Ms. Lieberman,” I say eagerly, coffee pot in one hand, full mug in the other.
She looks uncomfortable for a second as if she’s weighing something up, and when I pass her the mug of black coffee, her demeanor changes a bit.
“You can just call me Charlotte,” she says awkwardly, clutching the mug in both hands.
I can’t help but grin. “And you can call me Mason,” I tell her.