Once Upon a Nightmare

doom and gloom

vii: doom and gloom

 

I've never heard of this holiday she’s going on about. Whatever it is, my usual black attire is inappropriate, or so she says.

Wait—I pull back. I don’t usually wear black. Because I’m not Alexander. And yet it’s as if my emotions, not his, are reacting to the idea of the Dream holiday.

“You’re gonna ‘ave a very ‘ard time getting past me family in all black,” she answers, as if it’s obvious, “And you’re not dressing up like ‘uck Finn. These is good ‘oliday clothes, they is. I filched ‘em from my cousin Phillip and they’re actually really nice, and not too painfully Dreamish. I took that into consideration for ya.”

I know this girl. No—I don’t know her, but Alexander does. She looks like summer, with wispy blonde hair curling around her face like a halo, her nose and cheeks splattered with freckles like kisses from the sun. I sense, in my heart that is both mine and Alexander’s at once, that we find her mysteriously appealing.

Her name is Enna.

“How kind.” I put the clothes and hat on, sliding my hand over the rim like Zorro. However much I don't like the outfit, Alexander Ira doesn’t do embarrassed. "How do I look?"

Enna gasps and clutches her clavicle in shock. “Oh. My. Sandy, you look so handsome! ‘Oo knew?”

Sandy. That’s her nickname for him. Only she calls him that.

I decide not to be offended by her surprise at my “handsomeness.” Being in Merrymount is still uncomfortable, even after spending so much time there, and I’m at her mercy in her territory. She has yet to elaborate on what we’re doing, exactly. “Do I have to have a different name? And are we related or do I get the pleasure of telling everyone I've got a crush on you?”

“No, you can go by Alexander, unless ya want to make up a fake name. And you can’t be related! Everyone there is my cousins and aunts and uncles or their kids and husbands and wives and stuff. And we’re goin’ to the Jellybean Harvest Festival. It’s the celebration of the Jellybean Harvest and it’s my favorite holiday ever! It’s so fun, singin’, dancin’, maypole-in’, and so much food that it’s just impossible.” She pauses, sending me a sly look over her shoulder. “Why—do you ‘ave a crush on me?”

The truth is, it was a joke, but now I’m not sure I’m kidding. I’m fairly positive I am, but I do like her—and she’s . . . cute, sorta. In a puppy dog way. The problem is until now I’ve never been associated with anything on which I could use an adjective like ‘cute,’ and never, until now, liked puppies.

"What are you going to do about it if I do, Ennabelle Lee?"

“I was just foolin’! Are—are ya serious?” She looks like she might be slightly horrified if I am.

Suddenly, our walk is awkward. I pull the brim of my hat farther down my face against the sunlight creeping into the sky. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get your bloomers in a knot. I never said I did, I just asked what you'd do." I stuff my hands in my pockets. "I don't have a crush on you.”

And then, since the morning is already looking bad due to celebrating a jellybean holiday and the only thing that will make it bearable is Enna's company, I grin at her. "But if I ever get desperate enough to have a crush on a Dream, you're at the top of my list."

Enna never takes long to shrug off tension. “Yeah? Likewise, I suppose. I mean, you’re really the only Nightmare I know, so by default, that would make ya at the tippy of my list.” The sun finally peeks over the horizon. “NO WE’RE GONNA MISS IT!” Grabbing my hand, she yanks me into a run and together we barrel up the hill.