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“If no one saw you land, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” I frown, tugging on his hand until he moves to my side. “Look, there are stilt walkers, and over there, do you see the realistic, life-size dinosaur puppets? Down the road, there are houses decked out to look like horror-movie sets. The whole street fair is set up by designers and makers in the film industry. They’ll assume you are wearing a costume. If anyone questions you, we’ll just tell them you’re a special-effects artist.”
Still, the longer I look at Colossus, the more I realize there might be more to his concern.
The nights I’m stuck at the museum, Colossus spends searching out new Strange. However, he’s yet to actually make contact. I don’t know what’s holding him back, and I’ve been too overwhelmed with my new position to push him for answers.
“We could always watch from one of the buildings and go next year,” I offer, trying to hide my disappointment.
“You really want to go?” Colossus asks, squeezing my hand in his massive claw.
“I want to hold your hand in public.” I quickly add, “But only if you are up for it.”
He grips my hand tightly and tugs me to his side.
“What?” I gasp as I’m yanked back.
“You want to claim me in front of other humans.” His fangs flash with the colored lights, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile deepens.
My cheeks heat with the truth of it. We told each other “I love you” long ago, but without a community of Strange, we’ve had to keep our romance private—until now.
“Yes,” I admit, chewing at my bottom lip. “But we can do it another time—”
“Then we are going,” he announces, the early reluctance seemingly gone as he charges out into the fair with enough speed, I have to resume my tiny, quick steps beneath my hoop skirt.
We start at the far end of the street fair, where the games and food trucks are, before heading towards the elaborately decorated homes. Walking through the crowds, eyes wander and pause on Colossus, but they never stay too long. A few humans yell out compliments for the “gargoyle costume,” but the stilt walkers are almost double his height, and scare actors jump out of bushes and behind cars, preventing anyone from letting down their guard long enough to focus too closely on my monster.
Colossus starts out stiff at my side, his grip on my hand near painful, but as we follow behind packs of trick-or-treaters, I feel him begin to relax. The homes are big here, decorated with lights, massive, two-story inflatable witches, and homeowners dressed in complementing costumes. We pass by a home that has a broken hull of a pirate ship on the front lawn and several skeleton pirates throwing candy down from the plank.
“They really don’t seem to notice me,” he says, no longer tense, but then just as quickly, he lets out a low growl and jerks his head over his shoulder.
I spin to see a small boy who appears to be around kindergarten age, dressed as a lion, complete with poofy faux-fur mane and long tail, looking up at Colossus. His bright blue eyes are wide, and his mouth is agape. The little lion looks like he could be seconds away from a fit of giggles or tears.
“Say something,” I whisper, elbowing Colossus.
“Hello, child,” he blurts out, his voice unnaturally high-pitched and soft as he attempts not to scare the kid. “What do you want?”
“Can… candy.” The little lion’s brows furrow with determination.
“You want our help getting candy?” I ask, looking back to the pirates throwing candy from the broken hull and the swarm of older kids scavenging for every last piece.
The lion nods, pointing to the monster at my side. “Can you help me?”
“Help him.” I nudge Colossus.
Bewildered by the child’s request, he nevertheless releases my hand and makes his way over to the pirate ship. He easily reaches above the heads of the tweens, catching the candy before it can hit the ground and filling his large hands completely.
The lion’s eyes light up as Colossus returns and fills his bucket to overflowing. The weight of it is suddenly so heavy, the child struggles to hold it aloft.
“I’m so sorry, I just turned around for a second…” A woman who must be the lion’s mom pushes her way through the crowd and firmly plants her hand on the child’s shoulder. “What do you say to the nice monster, sweetie?”
“Thank you, Mr. Monster,” the child shouts up at Colossus. The bucket resting at his feet, his little hands are already working to open a piece of candy.
“You are very welcome, child.” Colossus nods, a smile bigger than I’d ever seen spread across his stone face.
“This might just be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” I say once we’re a few houses down from the pirate ship.
I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to be in public with Colossus, or how much I wanted to see him be around others. He spent decades alone, uncertain of his past, and I’d hoped he’d find a community here. Even more, I’d hoped he’d find another gargoyle to get the answers he so desperately wanted. Colossus supported me and my dreams; I just want to do the same for him.
To claim him, as my monster had said, and for him to claim me.
