MirrorMirror

47 / The Bandstand

'Hey, Fuck Face!' is a perfectly reasonable greeting when you answer your phone or open your front door.

'Hey, Fuck Face!' is less reasonable when it's shouted across a park, where children are walking to school and early morning joggers are tiring themselves out prior to heading off to their tiring job.

Ethan had a voice that could carry on the slightest breeze. The words leapfrogged from gust to gust on their journey to the recipient's ears, as if parkouring their way across the space between. Rather than be diminished by those nearby hearing them, they seemed to gain strength from it, strength that manifested as volume. He was one of those people whose whispers could be heard by everyone, as they'd scurry around, searching for auditory canals to leave shadows of themselves in.

He couldn't be quiet if he tried, which he did and failed at.

Though many ignored his call, others looked at the brothers. Some smiled. Most frowned. You were meant to swear, if you must, in tones that wouldn't be scattered around for everyone to be offended by. You were supposed to keep your foul language within your immediate circle and not cast it about for the world to hear. It was acceptable that way. It could be tolerated if used in a conversational, non-threatening way.

The onlookers wouldn't know 'Fuck Face' was a term of endearment. Their disproving looks might have been more amused if they had. Cassidy felt a pang of guilt, even though he hadn't been the one to raise his voice. Ethan didn't notice or care. It was harmless fun, so people needed to get a life of their own and not judge.

Cass waved at his brother and walked towards him. Ethan's approach was faster and jauntier, so they met further to one side of the park than the other. They were by the old bandstand, a structure that had somehow been resistant of the graffiti or vandalism that tainted other areas of the park. The local council were quick to act on the defacing that occurred too frequently and, luckily, they'd yet to have to spend much time on the bandstand.

It was far from a forgotten edifice, however. Children used it when learning to roller skate, using the waist height barrier circling it for support. Teenagers congregated on sunny days. Couples proposed in its centre and, on the many occasions fetes were held in the park, a large brass band would play there.

It was empty at that moment, so the brothers took their place on the wooden floor, their backs against the barrier.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Cassidy said after their initial greetings had been made. "I just know something has to be done."

"Do you think he sent your visitor? Maybe he was reclaiming the mirror and his daughter."

"I didn't think of that. I doubt it, though. From what I know of him, being in his head, he wouldn't have any clue about her. Stuff like that wouldn't occur to him."

"Is he a bit thick?" Ethan asked

"Well, let's say a bit pie and mash."

"Huh?"

"He's not stupid. Just... basic. Not into things outside of his, like, experience."

"You know I like pie and mash, don't you?"

"So, you get my point, then."

"You'd be a funny fucker."

"If I was funny, I know." Cass said.

"I'm surprised you're defending him, seeing what he'd done."

"I'm not. I'm only saying he didn't send the burglar. He's the reason Amy is dead, but not Bobby."

"And the burglar."

"Amy and Bobby. That guy can go fuck himself."

"I doubt that's possible wherever he is now. Though, it might be the only thing it has going for it."