In most small towns in America, football is king, with baseball as its queen and basketball merely a method of keeping teenagers from burying their teachers’ cars in massive snowdrifts and spraying them with water just before the temperature drops at nightfall. Or so has been Carlos’ experience, even though he only did that once himself, at least as far as anyone can prove. Moving around every three to six months does have its advantages when it comes to being unnoticed and unsuspected. In Night Vale, however, it doesn’t really matter what the sport is. Football, baseball, basketball, cheerleading, competitive kitten juggling, cross country—even inexplicable things that shouldn’t be considered a sport, like underwater basket weaving or golf—if the Night Vale Scorpions are fielding a team, everyone in town is either attending or listening, no exceptions. Carlos doesn’t even think it’s mandatory. Everyone just has so much pride in their school.
Of course, it helps that Cecil has so much pride in his alma mater, even if he claims not to be a “sports guy”. Even before Janice was in high school and old enough to actually participate, Carlos remembers finding himself swept up in the enthusiasm for the first football game of the season, sitting up in the nosebleeds in hopes of not being noticed as he tried to watch the game. (He also remembers trying to keep his distance when the unfairly attractive radio host chose to sit with him instead of in the press section, but finding himself drawn towards his warm, charismatic presence anyway.) But Abby says she remembers it being like this even before Cecil got his internship, let alone became the host of the radio show, and that it satisfies the blood lust in people who don’t get recruited for the Blood Space War. Maybe she’s right.
Anyway, tonight should be fun. Charlie is so excited he can’t sit still, and his enthusiasm is catching. Cecil has already told them that he and Tim will meet them at the gym, so the rest of them take the time to get ready. Janice gifted Charlie her hoodie from freshman year that she’s outgrown, which he’s thrilled by, and Esteban has one he’s still growing into. Carlos allows them both to wear face paint in the Night Vale High School colors, purple and white, and Martin concedes to let Charlie dab some on his face as well. Jonny, who accepts only a ball cap from Carlos and looks awkward in it, teases him about being a “football hooligan”, and he and Carlos end up having a lighthearted argument about whether American or European football is better that lasts all the way until they reach the high school.
Parking, as usual, is at a premium, but Carlos hangs Cecil’s press pass from the rearview mirror on the totally legitimate grounds that they’re going to take him home afterwards so it’s technically him parking there and gets a spot near the front, or at least as near to the front as he can get with all of the vehicles that need space for loading and unloading wheelchairs. Martin sweeps Charlie up onto his shoulders again and Carlos reaches for Esteban. To his surprise, though, Esteban shakes his head and holds his arms out imploringly to Jonny, who looks just as startled as Carlos is himself. Still, he obliges, picking the toddler up and balancing him on his shoulders as well, making him giggle with delight.
Carlos smiles. “Come on. Abby usually saves a good seat for us.”
Martin bends his knees a bit to help Charlie keep from knocking his forehead on the top of the door frame, then straightens. Charlie looks around, then squeals with delight and points. “Over there! There’s Tim and Uncle Cecil!”
“Dada!” Esteban shouts over the hubbub of the crowd. Jonny’s hands tighten around his ankles to keep him from lunging over his head and launching himself into the air. Esteban has not yet mastered unpowered flight and would not make it all the way to Cecil safely, so that’s a wise move.
The crowd kindly parts for them, or at least doesn’t actively hinder them, as they move towards where Charlie assures them Tim and Cecil are. Larry Leroy from the edge of town stops to say hello; Dana Cardinal has a kind word for both Carlos and Esteban; Charlie has to slide off Martin’s shoulders to prove to John Peters—you know, the farmer?—that he isn’t actually eight feet tall. Finally, though, they make it over to where seats have been saved for them.
“Dada!” Esteban says again, lunging over Jonny’s head. This time Jonny lets him, mostly because Cecil stands up to catch him, laughing. To the outfit he was wearing when he and Tim left to catch the bus to the radio station—leather pants and a purple and white striped poncho with beaded fringe—he’s added a headband with several sparkly purple pom-poms attached to long, waving springs. Tim’s worn and faded sweatshirt for his own university over a pair of patchwork corduroy pants fits right in with the atmosphere, and he’s carrying a noisemaker.
More of a surprise to Carlos, although he doesn’t know why, is that they aren’t alone despite there being plenty of seats saved for the others. It’s not surprising that Abby is there, of course—even before Janice was on the team, she usually came to the games because her husband is the coach—but it is a bit unexpected for her to sit with her brother. She usually sits in the seats reserved for the families of officials, down behind the scoreboard. And Diane Crayton is with them too. That’s maybe a little less of a surprise since she and Cecil are friends, but she doesn’t come to all the games, so it’s still a bit unexpected.
“Cecil and Tim have been telling me all about you,” she gushes, bending down to make eye contact properly with Charlie. “Hi! I’m Diane Crayton. My son Josh is the mascot. You must be Charlie!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Charlie says with broad grin. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Diane.”
“So polite, too! You’re a credit to your parents.” Diane gives Charlie a friendly smile, then stands up and shakes hands with Martin and Jonny. Abby gives them a friendly half smile and gives Carlos a nod, but he doesn’t expect much more than that and it’s fine.
The team is warming up on the court, doing shooting and passing drills. Janice passes a ball crisply to Manda, glances towards her mother and uncle, catches sight of Charlie, and gives him a wave and a double thumbs up with a megawatt grin. Charlie returns the gesture enthusiastically; Esteban tries, but he’s still getting the hang of thumbs up and ends up just shaking his tiny fist in her direction with a squeal of glee. Steve, who’s scribbling on his clipboard as he watches the practice, eyes flicking back and forth between the opposite ends of the court, doesn’t even look in their direction, but Carlos is used to that. Steve gets really focused before a game.
The Red Mesa Ant Carpenters look bigger than they were last year, he muses as he follows Steve’s gaze. Size doesn’t matter, of course, it’s what you can do with it that counts—he’s known that since he was sixteen, thank you very much, Jamie Cook—but these girls look…dangerous. Hopefully it will be a clean game.
“Where are they going?” Charlie asks as the court clears, all of a sudden.
“The locker rooms,” Abby tells him. “They have to talk briefing and strategy before they get started, but they’ll be back soon.”
Cecil puts his arm around Carlos’s shoulders and pulls him close; Carlos snuggles into his husband and smiles. Cecil always seems to know how much physical contact he can take on any given day, and he always respects his boundaries, but today is definitely a “hug and cuddle and be near” kind of day. Esteban stands on Cecil’s lap, held secure by his daddy’s strong arm, and out of the corner of his eye Carlos sees Jonny nestle between his own partners. Charlie grips Tim’s hand excitedly as he waits.
“WELCOMING TO THE COURT—THE RED MESA ANT CARPENTERS!” Silas Hearne, the announcer for all the Night Vale sports, bellows into his megaphone—unnecessarily, since he can be heard from space on a good day—and the crowd erupts into a mixture of cheers from the Ant Carpenters’ fans and polite applause from the Night Vale residents as Red Mesa comes onto the court one by one, Silas naming each. Once it fades a little, he adds, somehow even louder, “AND NOW—PLEASE WELCOME YOUR NIGHT VALE SCORPIONS!!!”
The cheers are nearly deafening and practically drown out the pep band, which has struck up the Night Vale High Fight Song. Josh Creighton, who’s shifted into the shape of Stinger the Scorpion, does a cartwheel or a backflip to get the crowd revved up as Silas announces each player. Carlos and his family, naturally, rise to their feet and make as much noise as possible when Janice is announced; Esteban’s delighted shouts of “DANDAN! DANDAN!” are just audible over the noise as he bounces in Cecil’s arms. They stay on their feet for the national anthem, sung by Megan Wallaby today, and then the referee comes out with the basketball. There’s a moment of tension, the buzzer sounds, the ball drops, and the game is on.
The energy in the gym is high tonight, and it’s impossible not to get swept up in it. Janice assists her teammates in scoring a basket within five seconds of the drop, and the cheers from the Night Vale side nearly rip the roof off. Charlie is on his feet, bouncing up and down and cheering as Janice thunders past, and nobody is blocking his view even when they stand up as well.
“O-BLI-TER-ATE! O-BLI-TER-ATE!” The chanting begins before the ten minute mark, and Carlos is pleased to see that Jonny and his family join right in with it. Tim almost sounds like a Night Vale native even. The noisemaker whirls in his hand as Night Vale scores again, and again, and again. Josh skips by and revs the crowd up even further, even when Red Mesa manages to hang onto the ball for a bit, and by the time the whistle blows and the buzzer sounds for half time Night Vale is up 54-2.
Cecil looks down at Charlie and smiles. “Are you having fun, buddy?”
“Yeah!” Charlie says enthusiastically. “Are the games always like this?”
“Just about,” Abby says. “Sometimes they don’t play as well and they lose, but it’s always a good time.” She eyes Cecil sideways and adds, “At least now it is.”
Cecil does at least have the grace to look embarrassed, but he doesn’t say anything.
The pep band strikes up the traditional halftime performance of the old school classic, “Il était une fois à la cour”, while Josh tries to get the crowd dancing. It doesn’t always work, but tonight it does, and Charlie claps along even though he clearly doesn’t know all the words yet. Martin and Tim, though, are both belting out the words like they’ve been singing it all their lives. Next is the children’s free throw challenge, and Carlos is surprised and pleased when the coordinator points at Charlie and willing hands help him make his way down the bleachers to the court, along with two or three other kids around his age, one of whom is almost six feet tall and clearly from Red Mesa. They’re lined up and called forward one at a time to attempt ten free throws.
The first kid makes one basket; the second misses every time. Charlie should be next, but the kid from Red Mesa steps forward like he doesn’t see him, which makes Carlos frown. He sinks six out of ten baskets and seems annoyed. Then it’s Charlie’s turn. Even from the stands, Carlos can see the concentration on his face, the way his lips move as he evidently gives himself a pep talk, or perhaps instructions.
And Janice’s handiwork is obvious in his technique, and it pays off. He makes nine baskets and misses the tenth one only due to an unlucky bounce off the rim.
The crowd, even the Red Mesa side, goes wild.
Charlie is glowing with pride and delight as he makes his way back up the stand, clutching his prize—an official NVHS beanie—in both hands. Tim helps him adjust it on his head properly and gives him a little hug, but before anybody can say anything more, the girls are coming back onto the court and the game is getting ready to begin again.
The second half is, if anything, more intense than the first. Red Mesa plays much more aggressively and manages to score a few more baskets, but the Scorpions are faster, more agile, and work better as a team. When the final buzzer sounds half an hour later, the score is 102-38 and the Night Vale High School Scorpions retain their undefeated season record.
As the crowd cheers, the girls high-five one another and pound Steve on the back, or at least on the kidneys, as he laughs uncomfortably and escorts them towards the locker room. Charlie turns to Tim, his eyes sparkling. “Do they play that at home?”
“There’s a local youth league that meets at the local gym. We’ll see about signing up for lessons when we get home,” Tim promises.
“YES!” Charlie pumps his fist in the air and nearly falls off the bleachers. Tim catches him by the arm and hauls him back on balance, laughing.
They say goodnight to Diane and make their way out of the gym into the cool night air; Abby detours with the other parents to meet their children. Usually this is when they just head home, but today they wait. Carlos knows it’s because of Charlie, and because he wants to tell Janice what a great job she did.
“Have you had a good trip?” Carlos asks Jonny, quietly, while Cecil bounces Esteban and talks to Tim and Martin and Charlie eagerly watches the doors.
“I have,” Jonny agrees, just as quietly. “It’s been…nice, seeing you again. I hadn’t realized how much I missed you. And your family is…they’re good for you, Carlos.” He hesitates, then adds, even more quietly, “I’m…sorry about Tim taking your statement that first night. I, I hope the nightmares weren’t too bad.”
Carlos almost asks Jonny if he’s sorry about Tim taking his second statement, but he stops himself when he sees the look in Jonny’s eyes as he glances back at his family and realizes what it means. Jonny doesn’t know about that statement. He doesn’t know that Carlos told Tim about the desert otherworld, or about the time concerns, or about his fears while he was there, or even about the man who let him go. And the Keeper, Martin’s father, was kind enough not to mention it either. Carlos owes Tim a lot for that, actually, because even though he never said he didn’t want Jonny to know about that, it’s good that Tim understands and is keeping it a secret.
“I’ve only had one nightmare this week,” he says instead. “And Cecil was right there when I woke up. I’m sure you know that makes everything better.” He smiles and nods at Tim and Martin. “Your family is good for you, too, Jonny. I haven’t seen you this relaxed and happy since Uncle Walt died.”
“I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed and happy since my father died,” Jonny says frankly. “They make me feel safe.”
“Yes,” Carlos agrees. “I know exactly how that feels.”
Abby, Steve, and Janice come out of the gym just then, the last ones to leave as usual. Charlie immediately rushes over and gives her a tight hug. “Janice, you did so good!” he gushes.
“Thanks, Chuckles.” Janice hugs him back. “I heard you won the free throw contest, too. Great going!”
Charlie beams. Cecil grins. “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you? You usually go straight from school to practice.”
Janice pulls a face. “Yeah. Mom, did we go grocery shopping this week?”
“There’s peanut butter and jelly,” Abby says, a bit apologetically. Which is the same as no, but takes more words and does at least present options.
“There’s no need for that,” Cecil says, surprising Carlos, but not as much as what he says next. “I made reservations for us all for dinner. I thought it might be a nice treat, since Charlie and his dads are leaving tomorrow.”
“The Moonlight All Night Diner takes reservations now?” Steve says, sounding surprised. Carlos knows that’s the only place he can think of that Cecil would want to take all of them, especially at this time of night.
Cecil shakes his head. “No. Follow me and I’ll show you where.”
“Wanna ride with us, Charlie?” Janice asks. “That’s okay, right, Mom?”
“Of course.” Abby raises an eyebrow at Cecil. “If you get the car seat, we’ll take Esteban with us, too.”
Esteban claps his hands in delight, and really, at that point, there’s no chance of Cecil saying no.
Carlos waits until they’re all settled in the minivan before he asks, “Where did you get reservations, sweetie?”
Cecil just grins. “You’ll see.”
Carlos assumes it’s either Arby’s or Applebee’s—Arby’s doesn’t usually take reservations, but it’s somewhere special for them and Tim hasn’t been, and lots of places will do things they don’t normally do for Cecil. He is not, however, prepared for Cecil to pull into the parking lot of a trendy, happening place with precious little parking.
“Tourniquet?” he blurts, trying not to sound horrified as he looks up at it. “You made reservations at Tourniquet?”
“Is there something wrong with it?” Martin asks, a bit nervously.
“No—no, it’s a great restaurant, it’s just—” Carlos mentally flails a bit. “It’s very…um, upscale. We haven’t…we came on a date once or twice, but…” He turns worriedly to Cecil. “Are you sure this is…the kind of place we should be bringing Esteban?”
Cecil shrugs and removes his headband. “They have high chairs.”
And they do, Carlos notes with surprise when they walk in. He’s still a little apprehensive—okay, a lot apprehensive. They love Esteban very much and are very proud of him, even if he is essentially their little secret as much as possible—their intimate friends know him, but anyone they aren’t incredibly close to usually seems to forget about him as soon as they are out of sight of him—but he is still, crucially, eight months old, with all the joys and challenges that come with that age. Still, he holds his tongue while Cecil speaks to the maître d’, then leads their group to a table that’s been prepared for them in the back. It’s one of the lower ones, with two chairs removed—one replaced with a high chair, as previously mentioned, and one left empty for Janice and her wheelchair.
Carlos—and, from the looks on their faces, Jonny and Martin—is uncomfortably aware of the fact that they are still very much dressed for a high school sporting event, although Charlie has at least removed his beanie and stuffed it in his pocket. The waiter doesn’t bat an eye, however, merely takes their drink orders and whisks away.
Tourniquet specializes in French cuisine, and somehow it doesn’t surprise Carlos that Tim knows all about French cuisine. What does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t monopolize the conversation. He holds forth a bit on his strategy when prompted, but when Tim casually but pointedly moves the conversation along, he doesn’t try to bring it back to his topic, which is unusual. Abby doesn’t even have to placate his mild hurt at being dismissed or ignored. An even bigger surprise is Esteban. He’s perfectly well behaved, although, after watching for a bit, Carlos realizes he was a little silly to believe it would be otherwise. Because Esteban—just like he’s done from the moment they met—watches Charlie and copies everything his older cousin does. And Charlie, who’s a credit to his fathers, behaves perfectly, so Esteban does the same.
He’s visibly getting tired by the time the meal winds down, though. Earl Harlan, who’s in the kitchen tonight, comes out to personally greet Cecil and meet his family and brings a special dessert for Esteban, which he rallies a bit to eat, but after they say good night to Abby, Janice, and Steve and get him settled back in the car, he starts sagging again, and he’s asleep before they even pull into the neighborhood. Cecil takes him back to his bedroom to go to bed; Charlie says a round of sleepy good nights and follows.
“He was asleep before he even had time to talk to his auntie,” Cecil reports when he comes out, smiling faintly. There’s a bit of a sadness in his eyes, too, and Carlos slips an arm around his waist to comfort him even if he doesn’t know why. The answer is forthcoming fairly quickly, though, if obliquely. “What time does your plane leave tomorrow?”
“Ten-fifteen AM,” Martin answers. “Which means we need to be to the airport by nine at the absolute latest.”
“Plenty of time for breakfast first, then,” Cecil says, in a tone that brooks no argument. “Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning. Good night, family.”
“Good night,” Tim says, in an equally solemn tone of voice.
Later, once they’ve worked off all of the calories they consumed at dinner and then some, Carlos rests his head on his husband’s chest, playing idly with the hair there, and says softly, “Thank you for letting them come. And thank you for letting them stay.”
“Carlos. They’re your family, and they love you almost as much as I do. There was never going to be a universe where they didn’t stay.” Cecil runs his hand through Carlos’s hair. “And I like them, too. I’m glad I met them, and I’m glad they came. They’re always welcome, as long as you want them here.”
“They didn’t…bother you?”
“You know Tim and I are too much alike for that. Jon is a lot like you. And Martin is exactly what both of them need to balance everything out.”
“I worried,” Carlos confesses. “That they would want to study too deeply into Night Vale. To explain it.”
Cecil presses a kiss to the top of Carlos’s head. “I don’t think that was ever a concern. Jon and Martin are willing to take it as it comes, or maybe they’re just afraid to know more than they do. And Tim just…gets it. No need for explanations when you just…Know.”
Carlos doesn’t understand. Not really. But he also acknowledges that Cecil and Tim are too much alike for him to truly understand what’s going on in their minds, and he’s also afraid that if he presses too hard he’ll accidentally reveal more than he wants Cecil to know just now.
Instead, he asks one final question. “Will you stay with me if the nightmares get too bad?”
“I will stay with you even if you never dream again,” Cecil promises. “And I swear not to ask what goes on in your mind in the dark.”
Cecil never breaks a promise, not when he makes them in that voice, and so Carlos falls asleep in his husband’s arms and—mercifully—sleeps a sleep without dreams.