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Robby had no earthly idea how he was messing up so badly.
And the longer he held the toy gun in his hand, the more annoyed and confused he became. The gaping open clown mouth staring and laughing at him mockingly with every shot sprayed.
Behind him Jack was obviously getting impatient, making noises every time Robby missed his target.
After the third missed shot he stepped up behind him, pointing over his shoulder and toward the carnival game. "Look, man, you just gotta aim the water gun at the—"
Robby glared at him over his shoulder and tensed up. "I know what I'm doing."
"Mhm, and does missing three shots in a row qualify?"
Robby felt his face get red hot, his hand gripping the toy water gun harder, once again clenching his finger on the trigger to spray. Missing the clown's mouth by a long shot and triggering its infuriating laughter.
"... four times," Jack counted from behind him. He stepped up further and patted his frustrated friend on the back. "Here, give it. Let me show you a thing or two about shootin' private."
With a loud groan Robby relinquished the gun to Jack, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. It's rigged anyways, bet you won't even get to ten."
Jack got into position, old military training and instincts kicking in as his body tensed and then relaxed. He shot dead on, one clown, then two.
By the third clown he smirked over his shoulder at Robby, who absolutely wasn't pouting like a child next to him. Thank you very much.
Jack hit the fourth clown and it folded backwards as he laughed, show-off.
Truth be told Robby wasn't all that interested in any of the shooting games to begin with, but Jack had beelined right to them the moment they got their entry bands and had their hands stamped at the front gate.
Looking down at his wrist he played around with his red wristband, a signal to vendors that he was of drinking age, even though just from looking at him you'd know he was well over twenty-one.
And on the back of his hand was a decent sized black stamp.With the initials NSF in black ink.
This whole trip had been Jack's idea really, the trip out to the Nebraska State Fair. The two of them initially being sent out west by Gloria to network for PTMC, flying to three different cities over the course of two weeks.
Grand Island was one of their more important destinations and a growing industry for medicine. So naturally they would be staying there for four days.
However, when they landed, the hospital they were to be networking in and touring was missing some of the more important clients that Jack and Robby were meant to be selling the PTMC brand to.
A good portion of them out sick from something viral. So for about two out of the four days, Robby and Jack found themselves with a lot of free time.
That's when Jack did a little research on the area and found out about the Nebraska State Fair, a multi-day event that claimed to have fun activities for all ages and even some farming and agricultural events.
'Hey, look, says here they even got a mile long corn maze!'
'Jack, man, I'm gonna be really fucking honest with you... if you get lost in the corn maze I'm just gonna have to declare you missing because I'm not going in looking for you.' Jack gave him a look of mock hurt and scoffed.
'You mean to tell me you wouldn't tear down the entire maze to find me? Your best friend?'
'You'd be missed dearly, for at least a week.' That had earned Robby a punch on the shoulder as Jack gathered the details for parking around the event.
And now they were here, two grown men, playing carnival games and surrounded by large groups of families and teenagers.
Robby could confidently say that he'd never felt more out of his element, unable even as a child to snag basic prizes from the claw machines at his local Wal-Mart.
his lacking ability aside, he had to admit that the fair was a spectacular event, the grounds taking up multiple blocks. Each section housing everything from carnival rides and games, livestock shows and auctions, vendors from all walks of life selling their homemade goods.
And food, so much fried food.
Jack had already hosed three funnel cakes and was surely gonna have another when he was finished with showing off on the rigged clown game.
Robby could barely keep down the bubbling heartburn from the double-deep-fried whatever he had.
So far they'd been there a few hours already and only made it past the long line of food trucks, into the rides and games area and not much further. There was still a lot of ground to cover and dozens more attractions to see.
Robby was honestly itching to see the farm shows, hoping that it wouldn't get too hot to the point that the cattle were brought indoors. He wanted to see the livestock auctions at work more than anything.
Growing up in rural PA gave him a deep appreciation for farming and agriculture that never really went away as he aged.
"Woo! Look at that! Perfect score baby."
Jack's energetic celebrating pulled Robby from his thoughts and back toward the game, every clown had been defeated, leaving his friend a decisive winner.
And as he picked his prize Robby rolled his eyes so hard they could have popped out of his head as he turned around.
Behind him was a small group of about four boys crowded around a duck hunting game.
Well... maybe not quite boys as they all had red wristbands on. Three of them, stocky and broad in the shoulders with varying shades of hair—from nearly platinum blond to chestnut, gathered around one smaller man with his own toy gun.
A lean and muscular younger man with curly hair like bright marigolds that reflected the sun in a halo, the curls brushing at the start of a faint red outline of a farmers tan peaking out just above his plaid shirt.
Every shot he took rocked his body backwards, each small recoil made his arm muscles flex.
Robby's own arms loosened in reflex.
The man was focused intensely on his moving targets, taking down the rotating cardboard cutouts with precision and patience as they passed in front of him.
And Robby found himself watching, just like the other men around him did.
There was an anticipation as the targets all fell away, and one of the other men to his left, dressed in cargo pants and a camo tank top, gripped the man by the shoulder, shaking him for a moment as he spoke.
"Alright, little brother, you got this."
To the man's right there was a scoff as a chestnut-haired man in overalls and a rolled-sleeve T-shirt crossed his arms over his chest, gesturing toward the targets. "If he doesn't fuck it up like last year, I dunno if all the rat shooting in the world could make up for that blunder."
"Don't be an ass, Carl. I got this," the man said in a warm and teasing tone, turning and nudging the teasing guy with his elbow.
"Boys! Language!" could be heard yelled across the crowd from a disgruntled-sounding woman. All four boys laughed, and a resounding chorus of "Sorry, Ma!" followed.
The man with golden hair refocused his attention to his target, and as a small crowd gathered Robby too found himself holding his breath along with them. What for he had no idea.
A deep breath in, he adjusted his grip.
A deep breath out—
The target whizzed by, a small and very fast duck barely the size of a base ball. And without a second of hesitation the man turned, following its path and pulled the trigger. The BB knocking the cutout off its metal pedestal and to the ground under the counter.
The small crowd cheered, the man barely able to put the toy gun back in its holster before one of his older brothers hooked him by the neck into the crook of his elbow, giving Robby a great view of his handsome features. Their laughter rang out into the open air and filled the space between them and Robby with warmth.
The brother in cargo pants took a fist to his hair and messed his curls until they stood up at odd angles, congratulating him in a way only an older brother could, only releasing his grip when an older woman came between them to separate the laughing siblings.
"James, Dennis, stop that! What have we told you two about roughhousing in public?"
Dennis—the golden boy's name was Dennis. Fitting.
The older woman looked at her sons with a death glare, both of them barely able to contain their lingering joy as they apologized.
Suddenly Jack appeared at his side, holding the most ridiculous-sized bear Robby had ever seen in his life, watching the small crowd disperse. His gaze following Robby's searing one.
Straight toward the still-celebrating man surrounded by his brothers, picking out his grand prize. Jack nodded and nudged Robby with his elbow, some of the sweat sticking to Robby's dark blue Pitt T-shirt.
"That kid's an amazing shot, huh?"
Robby found himself still watching as Dennis pointed out a bear nearly the same size as the one Jack currently had, only decorated with a blue ribbon around its neck instead of pink.
It was fuzzy and soft-looking, comfortable if his face was any judge, his hands running through all the dark brown fur. And as Dennis turned toward the entrance to the rides, Robby finally found it in him to speak again.
"Uh, yeah. He really is."
*
the next hour-ish was spent bobbing and weaving around the carnival rides with Jack in tow, stopping at random rides to get in line—no matter how long the lines were—re-riding others that made him feel like the corndog he ate was coming back up, and standing near more games and pretending to watch Jack play them.
But in reality he was almost absentmindedly following in the man's—Dennis's—footsteps. Getting on the same rides, sometimes twice. Being near the same games and rides just a few booths away and watching him win and lose in equal measure.
Looking for his golden hair in the crowd when Robby lost sight of him, or listening for his sweet laughter and melodic voice.
After the third trip on the Twister, Jack tapped out, saying that he was no spring chicken anymore and that if Robby wanted to keep going until he puked his guts out—well, then that was his right. Then he took his new friend, Sgt. Theodore, to the zoo and livestock area.
Leaving Robby alone, almost on Dennis's heel, trying to somehow get closer to the man who caught his eye.
Riding the Ferris wheel only a few people behind and imagining that instead of his brother next to him, it was Robby. Introducing himself and finally having worked up the nerve to tell him how good of a shot he was, imagining that they could be sat side by side by chance, going round and round as he learns more about him.
He gets even closer to saying "hello" before getting on the enormous carousel that, arguably, looked goofy for Robby to be riding on.
He ended up almost behind Dennis, with a buffer of a few people as they went round and round, Dennis making sure the younger girl next to him stayed seated in their shared seat.
The guy was uncharacteristically excited about riding around in a rotating and propelling ring of various farm and zoo animals, even going as far as to thank the ride operator the second time he rode, Robby watching from the sidelines. Making Robby smile genuinely at the gesture.
Eventually, Robby had ridden enough rides behind the man to become very well acquainted with the back of his head.
He always seemed to get more excited and bouncy when he got closer to the rides, twirling a few curls at the base of his head and rocking on the balls of his feet. Giggling and talking to his siblings.
It was unbelievably cute to see, and made Robby imagine all sorts of scenarios. He could see Dennis doing the same thing with Robby next to him, enjoying the food Robby would love to treat him to from one of the trucks, talking to Robby about everything and anything he loved to do.
Every time he'd worked up the nerve to just go up to the man and say something, or really anything at all... he froze in his tracks. Instead watching him look around and choose his next ride.
By the time Dennis had thankfully decided he needed a break from all the rides and veered off into the carnival games again, Robby once again felt out of his element. At least when he was in line for rides and hoping they would be seated together, all he had to worry about was an introduction.
Here, he was in deep water with no paddle. He couldn't even hit clowns with a spray gun. And by comparison, Dennis was a crack-shot natural at everything. And it made Robby even more shy, feeling unworthy to even approach him.
That is until he spied a large machine. A test-your-strength pressure machine, its owner holding a large mallet and egging on passersby to test themselves. Dennis passed by it on his way to a balloon-popping stall, waving his hand in a dismissive and polite gesture as he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.
Finally, Robby thought. A chance to show my own skill. Without trying to seem too excited for the opportunity to show his own strength, he stepped up to the man and gave him some of the game tickets Jack had made him carry after the first few rides. Robby was handed the mallet and wished luck. He tried not to think about who was watching.
About who he hoped was watching as he lifted up the heavy mallet and slammed it down on the pressure pad with as much of his body weight as he could muster.
It barely went halfway.
"Ohhh, sorry hoss," the fair employee chided. "Not everyone your age can swing that hard though. Take some pride in that!"
Robby sniffed and pulled out another ticket with a frown, handing it to the worker. "I wanna go again."
The man took his fake currency with a smirk and gestured back to the tester, standing back to give Robby room to work. And work he did.
He adjusted his grip on the mallet, finding the best position for his hands. The best place to hold it that would deliver the most force. Most of his strength was in his biceps, in his thighs. If he pushed forward with his—
"Gonna swing or not?" the man egged him on again, crossing his arms over his chest and making a show of looking at a watch he didn't have. "Not exactly getting any younger, and I'm sure we're all dying to see you barely hit the middle again." He gestured to the small crowd starting to form around him at the taunts.
Robby didn't look around him. He couldn't. He knew that if he looked into the crowd and saw the man he'd been working up to talking to—or worse, didn't see him—he'd freeze again. Instead, he fixed his hips.
He breathed in, then he breathed out, just like he'd seen Dennis do earlier.
He gripped the mallet the best he could with his slicked palms, one hand below the other near the head. He reeled his arms back, used the forward momentum and force from his thighs, and swung down.
The force of the mallet hitting the pressure pad creaked the wood underneath it as the small metal ball rocketed toward the top and rang the bell. The sound piercing the air around him as the small family crowd that gathered applauded him.
Fuck, that really hurt his back.
Behind him he heard a distinct whistle, a wolf whistle. So loud it made him turn around. And he was so glad he did. Behind him, wedged between an elderly couple and a few small children, was Dennis.
Smiling right at him and clapping along with the crowd, nearly meeting his bright eyes reflecting the rays of the warm late summer sun.
Refracting like diamonds, a shade of crystal blue that to Robby would likely only compare to the clear waters of a sugary sand beach somewhere tropical. And as Dennis whistled once again, pulling Robby from his trance within those eyes, he shook his head, trying to get a grip on himself as the worker offered him his choice of prizes.
And as the crowd started to weave back into the flow of fairgoers, Robby couldn't help but notice that Dennis was among the last to leave.
Glancing back a few times and feeding into his delusion, likely accidentally on his part. It still made Robby feel like his stomach was being kissed by butterflies.
With a smile, Robby shook off his energy and rubbed at his lower back, pointing out a medium-sized stuffed mouse wearing an adorable little straw hat.
*
After testing his strength, Robby took a short break from chasing a seemingly endlessly energetic Dennis around, giving his aching back a reprieve. Setting the stuffed mouse back down on the bench and letting his back relax against the cool shaded metal.
And, well, he watched. In the least creepy way he possibly could. He watched as Dennis met back up with the people Robby presumed were his family: his three older brothers that he'd already forgotten the names of, a smaller girl that looked like a carbon copy of Dennis, his mother, and a very tall and stocky man, sporting a beard not all that unlike Robby's own, but chestnut-colored instead of brown and grey and longer toward the front.
Robby found himself absentmindedly stroking his chin for a moment as he saw the family come together, laughing as Dennis rubbed a hand through the brown fur of the bear he'd won and handed it to the young girl.
"Robby, Christ. There you are, been looking everywhere for you, man," a voice called out behind him. Robby nearly jumped right out of the seat, tweaking his back and making him wince. "Where've you been?"
"Jesus, Jack, don't scare me like that. You know I spook easy."
Jack simply smirked and waved him off, taking the empty seat next to him. He was still carrying around the stuffed bear he won what felt like days ago.
"Sorry. I'm serious though, you've been gone for two hours. Have you been riding rides and playing carnival games this whole time?"
Had he really?
Honestly, Robby felt kind of like time had stopped when he'd first seen Dennis, like a bubble had encased them all as time went on around them. Robby rubbed some sweat from his forehead before he looked down at his watch, then pulled out his phone with a frown.
It was already six p.m. Huh.
"Sorry, guess I kinda lost track of time..."
Jack lifted an eyebrow and looked down at Robby's own hard-won stuffed companion. A small smile growing on his face, he moved his bear over to sit right next to the mouse. "I see you got Sgt. Theodore here a friend. Bout time you won something. Theo here needs a brother."
Robby chuckled and petted the mouse's head lovingly, minding the straw hat as he took his eyes off his real prize for the night, just for a moment. "Yeah, well, someone had to knock your ego down a peg."
Even with all of his friend's teasing, he could actually see himself taking the little guy home after this trip, as a reminder of nothing else of the fun he'd had today, of the man he'd (almost) met.
When he looked back up to see where his feet would take him next, he froze. Dennis and his family were nowhere to be seen.
No trace of golden hair, no warm laughter, no big stupid fluffy stuffed bear weaving through the crowds.
Nothing.
And just like that, Dennis—an intriguing and perfect stranger no more than a few hours ago—was gone, leaving Robby with only the already fading memory of him. If Robby didn't know any better, he'd think he'd made him up entirely in his mind, created to help him cope with the unbearable heat and gross amounts of fast food Robby had ingested.
He stood up quickly, starting to pace around the grounds, looking left and right frantically as he tried to get a glimpse of marigold and crystal blue in the mixing and churning crowd. He felt his heart sink and fall into the dirt at his feet.
His chances of actually saying something to Dennis, getting the chance to compliment his shooting, getting to know him and make him laugh, were already slim. Robby's own meekness and inability to actually make conversation outside of his own head holding him back at every turn.
Stopping him from crossing the buffer of people he'd been using for hours to just say "Hey."
Because why would somebody like that, energetic and joyful and so full of sunshine, be interested in him?
But now, that slim chance—maybe, .0001%—was an absolute zero, because Dennis had disappeared into thin air. He looked back toward Jack, who was still holding his own stuffed bear with a confused and concerned look on his face, and considered telling him that he wanted to go home.
That he'd let something, someone, potentially amazing... slip between his fingers. And as he was about to make his way back over to the bench to sulk, he felt a tap on his arm from behind. A tap so light that for a minute he thought maybe the breeze had picked up around them.
But it was still blisteringly hot, with no wind to be felt. With a furrowed brow, Robby turned around and there, to his complete surprise, stood Dennis.
The man he'd been following around like a puppy for the better part of the afternoon. His face lit up the moment their eyes met, as those endless ocean eyes stared back. His hand came up to card through the hair at his nape, his curly blonde hair now more of a light strawberry-blonde hue under the slight shade of the game booths.
As he smiled sweetly, Robby could see a small gap between his teeth.
And as Robby tried to catch his bearings, tried to keep his tidal waves of emotions from crashing against his mind, Dennis stepped forward into his space and simply said:
"Hi."