Summer Night Town

The resounding clang of metal clashing against metal stirred her awake. She had no idea what was hitting what, but given the worst headache she'd ever had that followed, it might as well be her head that was on the receiving end.

Dammit, again?

Having had enough of the never-ending, dissonant percussion, Essex forced her eyes open. It took a while and a colossal effort, as her lids felt like they had been welded shut. But she persevered, regardless, if only so she could yell to whomever or whatever was tormenting her to stop.

At least, that was her intention, but even through clouded eyes, she could tell she was in a completely foreign place. A quick look at the small space had Essex finding out she was inside a car, an old but not precisely ancient one, judging from the interior—it would be something from the seventies if she had to guess. The seats and the steering wheel were decked in worn leather, and the dash was wood-trimmed. The air carried a lingering scent of freshly smoked Camels, their disordered remnants strewn in the makeshift ashtray.

Peering out of the windshield, she could see an orange glow, partially obscured by the raised hood. The summer air, tainted with a hint of brine, felt oppressively humid despite the visible drizzle outside. Her dress clung to her body like soggy paper.

"Hey, wake up already, will you?"

Hearing the sprightly voice she was well-acquainted with was a huge reprieve amidst the discomfort. She could hear it loud and clear as if her ears had a filter against the constant banging.

"Yeah, I'm up, I'm up," Essex croaked, though her words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Come now, my love, don't be like this, yeah?"

"Huh… huh... What?!!?!!" Essex covered her mouth to stifle the shriek as her entire body seemed to heat up even more than it already had. After a moment, she realized, or at least convinced herself, that the voice wasn't addressing her directly. It did little to alleviate her embarrassment as she leaned back, feeling even more bewildered.

"Aha, that's more like it, babe," she heard the voice again, this time almost shouting, as the pounding ceased—the noise replaced with a growl as the vehicle roared back to life. Its owner slammed the hood shut, revealing to Essex the celebratory grin of her aide, Petty Officer Pierce. He had a lit cigarette nearly reduced to a stub hanging from his lips.

"Oh, hey, Miss," he nodded at her, and Essex blinked, astonished. The greeting rolled out his lips too easily as if the circumstance she was in was so mundane and ordinary.

The absence of the customary salute, the casual demeanor that blurred their rank differences, and, above all, that jarringly unfamiliar grin—all left her feeling disoriented and intrigued; being out of uniform made him look younger, smaller—and seeing him smoking when looking like that felt so wrong.

"Urk…yeah, hello," Essex managed before crashing her head back on the headrest just as bits of the happenings of the past hours began revealing themselves. Trying to wrap her head around all that only served to make her feel woozier and aching even more.

"…Damn it," she groaned and looked away to the side, but not without noticing that his smile had turned dry. "I drank too much, didn't I?"

It was pretty much a rhetorical question. She knew the telltale signs of intoxication, and Essex was sure Pierce wasn't so naïve that he wouldn't recognize them either. Still, a part of her wished he would say that, no, she didn't get drunk; that headache had got to be from somewhere else.

"A touch too much, but it's not like you downed a fifth," he replied, smiling. Essex thought that wasn't so bad.

"…And how did I end up in…uh…is this your car?" She noticed Pierce seemed to perk up at that.

"A beaut, isn't she? Prickly and capricious, but a beauty nonetheless. Was my father's—a 1968 Mustang. Y'know, like the one Steve McQueen drove in… well, that one movie. I forgot which one."

"Bullitt, isn't it?" Essex chuckled. Thinking how her aide was a far cry from the gritty McQueen proved to be an amusing distraction, even if at his expense.

"Oh yeah, that one," he slammed a fist to his open palm. "Didn't think you would know; sorry about that, though."

"I watched it…when it came out," Essex replied, quizzical, at his unsettled reaction of being reminded of the vast discrepancies between their age otherwise unknown to those not privy to their world. That cigarette almost fell from his mouth as it became slightly agape—but nobody should miss it at all if it did. He seemed to recover quickly from it, though.

Seeing that and massaging her temple made Essex feel somewhat better, and her mood improved. Only to a degree—one thing was still bugging her, a question without answer. She figured she could draw that answer from him. Wrestle it out him if need be, even.

"So…more importantly, how did I end up in your car?"

That ended up raising more questions, as Essex found out—her normally prompt aide offered no ready response. He put out the dying cigarette, pocketed the butt before lighting another, and inhaled a lungful—only then he spoke. He was smiling, but the way his lips quivered seemed to suggest he was holding back a grin and getting uneasy at the same time. She was unsure if she wanted to know why.

"Miss Enterprise asked me to pick you up. She said she or the Commander could've brought you back from that party themselves, but you adamantly refused and insisted you'll be fine on your own."

Essex bit her lips just hard enough to draw a bit of blood. Now she could remember the whole fiasco, the way she messed up, and it was just fitting she got mad at herself. There's no way the Commander and her sisters, or worse yet, Enterprise, would not look down on her now after all that grave lapse of judgment.

She didn't care if she had just yelled or if hitting her forehead on the dashboard hurt. She couldn't care less if even Pierce would laugh at her now—at his superior—blatantly or otherwise.

"...Hey, Miss Essex."

Essex almost didn't want to but looked up anyway. No laugh, no wisecracks. He didn't seem amused by the whole thing like she had thought. Maybe she did give him too little credit.

"What…?"

"...No, nothing."

Essex paid nearly no attention to his hasty retreat as she realized her eyes were beginning to turn moist. Her hand glided across them. She blinked. She buried her face in her palms. Her eyes only got wetter still.

The door on the driver's side creaked open like it was nothing. The engine roared even more before gradually becoming sputtering.

"Please hold on…it's alright," said the hushed voice. So he could be that tender, Essex thought. Maybe he really did love the car that much. She wondered why he was suddenly looking outside as soon as she turned to him, though.

Pierce sighed as the engine growled for the last time—and then silence as it died once more. He didn't look too distressed. He had a gentle look about him, to an extent she had never before seen, as he stared into the steering wheel, caressing it.

"You fail sometimes. Often, even. We all do. But it's alright. It's alright."

Essex took in as much air as she could—even if it had been fouled by cigarette smoke—when the palpitations within became almost intolerable. He wasn't addressing her; she was sure of it. But she—wasted and wounded as she might—couldn't help but be affected. Touched.

"...Well, well…Guess I just need to let her be for a while," Pierce lit another one. Essex had a mind to tell him to cut it back a little but remembered she was troubling him and decided she would allow him to have this moment.

"Didn't know you smoke, Petty Officer."

" I guess it's not a surprise you didn't know because I would always do it privately when on duty. But I smoke only when I'm stressed or upset."

That proved to be a revelation more troubling than Essex imagined.

"I'm sorry…I…have not been a good—"

A hiccup escaped her lips as he turned from outside the window to her, still having that same look as before, giving her no chance to say anything beyond that.

"It's…not your fault," he brushed it off, but even she could notice that his eyes betrayed a sense of vulnerability, a flicker of pain hidden behind his attempt at reassurance. She wished she couldn't; she wished she was just imagining it.

"Well, staying here would be boring," he cracked a small smile, head shaking. His gaze was soon again lost to the horizon. "This town…there's a fair going on right now. Perhaps it's a good idea to check it out."

"Huh…?"

"Today's the last day of Summer. How did you spend this season?"

That question had Essex realizing she didn't even know what the day was. There was no such luxury for someone on whose shoulders lay a multitude of expectations, self-imposed and otherwise—one whose eyes only had a single-minded focus.

"I…"

"Maybe I was being impetuous, but I understand how you feel about having Miss Enterprise as your senior. You wanted to surpass her, perhaps even make her proud of you," Pierce blew a smoke, "When you find yourself chasing after someone you look up to, it could be hard. I know the feeling well."

Essex had thought he couldn't surprise her even more, but she was proved mistaken. Still, no denying what he had said. In all, it was a pleasant surprise.

"I appreciate that, Petty Officer. And good luck to you and that person you look up to," Essex chuckled, and he let out a raspy laugh at that.

"Not a big deal. And well, you see, about that fair—I'm just thinking it could help you unwind, nothing more, really."

Essex glimpsed at what was beyond the window, at the faraway lights—bright, bedazzling. It didn't seem like a bad idea now. Nothing could be worse than moping inside a stalled car this time.

"I guess that does sound nice. Sure, I'll go."

She noticed he was smiling as he put the cigarette away.

***

Her steps had begun to steady as she walked the glistening, puddle-riddled boulevard, made labyrinthine by the riotous mingling of many sensations, both distant and near, transient and lasting, rich and sparse. The chaotic blend of perfume-like cotton candies, fresh popcorn, and God knows what else with the earthly scent of rain-drenched walkways. The laughter, the groans, the giddy shrieks. The songs, both lively and mellow. The smiles and the lights, rainbow-like and shining. The tingling warmth of summer night.

It was as if she was being pulled into the depths of a dream. A mundane dream, perhaps—but mundanity is a luxury for people like her. She thought she could drown in it, and it'd still be alright.

And then there was a giggle. Hers; she had just giggled so freely like it was nothing. That feeling had affected her more than she realized. Not even the passing glances from people curious about how overdressed she was for a simple fair could faze her now.

And he too, laughed as well, almost an echo of hers. So innocent. So unguarded. He wasn't the same as he was before, Essex thought. But she didn't mind, not in the slightest. He was walking not behind her like an aide should. At times, he would be ahead, and at other times, he would walk by her side but still keep a respectable distance.

"How long has it been since you went out to places like this?" He asked, a bit tentatively.

"Never," she replied, matter-of-factly, before letting out another giggle. "Never thought to."

"Oh, I see. Well, enjoy yourself, then, Miss."

"Oh, don't worry, I am...Pierce."

"Huh?"

Essex didn't expect he would be that surprised that she decided to address him by name. Even if just for tonight, she thought maybe they didn't need to be. After all, didn't he already ditch the usual "ma'am?" long ago? That lack of distance proved refreshing.

"Are you surprised I called you by name? I mean, it should be okay since we're not on duty, right? Just for tonight."

He looked away for a second, but she didn't fail to notice his cheeks were flushed a faint red. He coughed, and a bit awkwardly, he smiled.

"I...I see. It's alright, Miss."

"Geez, you can call me Essex, you know?"

"Yeah, uh, no. This is about as informal as I'm willing to get, Miss. I'm sorry."

Hell, she couldn't figure this man out. Was her suggestion really that reprehensible? It's not like she wanted pet names. Now, that would be too much.

But if he didn't want to, she would not force him to. Why insist? After all, he had gone out of his way to help her.

"Well, it's okay. If you can't, then you can't. But I will still call you Pierce for the time being, though. That alright with you?"

"Fine and dandy, Miss," he smiled—a little too pleased. Maybe he was actually happy. Maybe, Essex thought.

They kept on walking after that, and the crowd around them had grown more boisterous, the roadside performers and sellers more daring, the music merrier, and the laughter livelier.

There were rides all around. The merry-go-round, its painted horses frozen mid-gallop, was beautiful. It was for children, though. She would be too heavy to ride it. And besides, she didn't want to stand out more than she already was, mingling with those kids.

"Oh, you wanna try it?"

She could not help but feel embarrassed, having her thoughts read. Maybe it really was that easy, and not just a fluke.

"...I, um, too heavy?"

"...No, you're not heavy, I assure you."

"...What?"

Pierce looked like a child who had just broken a vase and was trying his best not to get scolded for it. His smile was so strained she thought it could crack.

It was like he realized he had just said something he shouldn't be saying. Or, at least, should not have been so forward with.

"...I, uh, mean, uh..."

Essex didn't even know what to make of this, and his reaction wasn't making things any better.

"Uh, you don't have to explain anything. But...how would you know if I'm not heavy?"

"...Um, just a hunch?"

The reply was so unconvincing it was almost comical. Pierce, as far as Essex knew, was an honest person. Not always truthful, but not a liar. But this felt a bit weird. She started to have an inkling, one that she didn't quite like.

"Hunch, yeah, sure. Pierce, here's a deal. Tell me the truth, and I won't be angry."

"Well, you see...I'm sorry. I had to carry you to the car back then because you were passed out."

Essex didn't realize she had covered her mouth. Now that made sense, his reaction when she asked about how she ended up in his car.

"...Why didn't you tell me? I, uh, oh no. Oh no. This is...um, embarrassing?"

She was sure she was red from ear to ear, and Pierce didn't look much better himself.

"Sorry. I had no other choice."

"No, I get it. You did nothing wrong, and I'm thankful for that. And uh, I'm not doing anything embarrassing, am I?"

"What? No! You, um, didn't do anything, um...yeah. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, thank goodness," Essex sighed, "but...wait. Then, why did you offer to take me here?"

"...I told you..." He looked away, "...It's the last day of Summer."

"And?"

"Well, you never went to a fair before, I believe. That's why...I...I could only think of that."

Essex wondered if he was aware that his gaze had been drifting toward her every now and then, each time followed by him looking elsewhere. He would be so quick to turn she could barely catch his eyes.

But he couldn't hide the flush that would always paint his cheeks, and not just a touch, but a bright red. She found herself wanting to look away but couldn't bring herself to.

"And also because you believe I will have fun?"

"You can find out yourself," he grinned, and it was such a pure, innocent thing, Essex thought. "Just try. It won't bite."

"...If you say so."

"Trust me, you won't regret it."

She didn't think so either. Not at all.

***

They continued to stroll along the boulevard, taking in the sights and sounds and smells and tastes. Everything was so lively, so full of life; it was intoxicating. The music, the laughter, the shouts, the murmurs.

"Hey, mister and miss, wanna see me do a trick? Only for a buck," A boy, his face covered in freckles, approached them, holding several balls in his hands and more in his bag.

"Uh, sure, why not."

"Thanks! Now, watch closely!"

He juggled the balls, his motions fluid as he kept adding more. Essex found herself engrossed as if she was under a spell, wondering just how many the boy intended to juggle—at least until he botched his performance in his overeagerness.

"Whoopsie. I messed up," he shrugged as the balls landed on the ground, one of them after hitting his head, and the natural red on his cheeks just intensified as he gathered his things. "Oh well, you don't need to pay."

"Don't worry, kid," Pierce gave him the bill anyway. "We all mess up at times. But it's alright. It's alright."

"Thanks, mister," the boy grinned, showing off his missing teeth, "And miss."

"Good luck, kid."

It's alright, he said. Even after a botched performance, it's alright, he said. What an optimistic view, Essex thought. It was as if he was trying to remind her of something.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done that. My apologies."

"No, I think it was a nice thing to do," Essex shook her head, "Besides, a kid shouldn't have to be afraid of failing, right?"

"And neither should you."

"Oh..."

Essex realized he had just indirectly referred to the whole situation back at the party. It's alright, he had said. Failing is not a big deal. And it's okay.

"...Thank you. You're a nice man."

"Thanks...And you're a good person, too—and no one should have to be hard on themselves, especially if they are always trying their best," Pierce smiled, and his expression was so tender and gentle.

"That's sweet of you. And thanks again. I appreciate that."

Essex didn't know why she would feel so shy. It felt weird, yet it was also not a bad kind of weird.

"Oh, that's it."

"Hm?"

Pierce pointed at a ride, which had the biggest line in front of it, a crowd of people who could not wait to take their turns.

It was, of course, the Ferris wheel. An ever-present staple of fairs, ubiquitous enough that every story set in them would have the characters riding it. What a cliche.

But, a cliche became cliche because it worked. People kept using the same thing over and over because it worked —and it would be a lie to say the ride wasn't drawing her in.

"You wanna go? I'll follow your lead."

"Well, yes, but don't you find it boring, though?"

"Boring? I think it's a great ride. But if you don't want to, that's fine. We'll just find another that suits your fancy ."

"N-no, it's alright. Let's just do it."

The line moved slowly, and Essex's eyes would drift toward the wheel, time and again. She thought it was kind of too large for a simple fair. She wondered why this town would be so eager to make one if they would only use it for this occasion.

The ride wasn't special. Nothing fancy.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that it would be different, somehow that there could be something there. She couldn't explain it nor pinpoint the reason.

She had been so deep in her thought that she hadn't noticed the line had moved quite a bit. They were the next ones.

"Miss?"

"Yes, Pierce?"

" We're next ."

"So soon... ?"

"Something wrong?"

"N-no. It's nothing."

"Okay. Just let me know if you change your mind."

The worker waved his hand, and Essex walked toward the cart, sitting inside and then looking at the space beside her.

"You, uh, aren't going in?"

"You mind?"

"I don't," she smiled.

"Alright," Pierce returned her smile, sitting beside her.

"All passengers, please hold the handles and make sure to wear your safety belts," the worker announced.

Essex nodded, pulling the handle and fastening the belt, noticing Pierce had done the same. The cart began moving upward, and as the fair below grew smaller and smaller, she could not help but feel the air thinning and her breath shortened.

She couldn't help but feel vulnerable. It turned out to be a bad idea, after all.

"You ... scared, Miss?"

"Y-yes. How did you know?"

"Your hands," he smiled, and she finally noticed her knuckles were white from gripping the handle too tightly.

"S-sorry."

"There's no need to be sorry. I mean..."

Essex looked down. He was just the same. His fingers had turned white as well. It was unthinkable, yet it happened. Too bad he wasn't allowed to smoke here when it could probably help. But despite that, he was still smiling.

"I understand, Miss. But, if you can't relax, you won't enjoy the ride."

"Yeah, but still...it's hard, you know."

"I know. I'm tense, too. But in the end, it's just a silly old ride. It's alright."

"Y-yeah," Essex stammered. The mention of old didn't inspire confidence. "I'd be fine, I guess."

"Well, it's gonna be over before you know it. So, let's try not to be nervous."

Essex took a deep breath, and, despite her trepidation, she managed a smile.

"Yeah. It'll be okay."

She could feel it.

***

The cart stopped, and they were at the very top.

It was not a great height, but it was high enough. The town, the fair, the people, the lights, the music—they were all there, so small as if seen from the top of the world.

The warm breeze lapped at her hair. She felt alive, basking in the feeling—so refreshing, so freeing.

So fleeting.

"Miss? It's over."

"Huh? That fast? It's not even that long, huh."

"Yeah…but hey, the view was pretty great, though. Right?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm glad."

As they stepped out, Essex wondered why his smile was so different, somehow, and it felt more special than all the others.

She couldn't quite figure out why.

***

Essex didn't mind him taking the lead, past dancers and acrobats and more stalls selling more sugar and fat than was healthy, past the artisans and farmers peddling trinkets and wares she had never seen.

It was a welcome break, not having to be in charge for once.

It was a welcome change, not being the leader.

She declined the offer of food, not feeling like eating, but she took on the shooting stall. She had been eager to test her aim, which she had honed under Enterprise—his warnings about it being rigged only served to motivate her more. That motivation paid off well, and she triumphed. Even the owner had to tip his hat off, quite literally.

She kept the eagle plushie. She thought of giving it to Enterprise, though after wondering if she would even like it, she decided against it. The other one, a dog, went to Pierce. He seemed bemused when he received it, dazedly holding out his hand when he was told to, and at that time, she thought the gift was kind of fitting.

"Thank you...but what should I do with this?"

"You're welcome, and I don't know," she grinned. "Go give it to that person you look up to, I guess? Don't tell them I gave it to you, though."

"Oh....well..." He looked away, his ears flushed a bright red, "I-I guess I can do that."

"Sure you can," she smirked.

"You, um, really think so?"

"Of course."

She was surprised at how eager he was to hear her confirmation. He looked almost like a puppy, his eyes so bright and expectant.

Maybe that gift was indeed fitting.

"You look tired, Miss. Do you want to rest?"

"Yes, I'm exhausted. It's been a long night. Maybe we should head back soon?"

"Sure. But let's go take a seat for now."

They found a bench and sat on it. Essex leaned back and stretched her legs, watching people coming and going, all of them seemingly without a care. Cheering, laughing, fooling around.

"I wish I could stay longer," Essex sighed, and she couldn't remember the last time she had a lot of fun like this. Like them.

"It's alright. There's always next year. You just need to be patient."

"You're right," Essex yawned as the night caught up to her. Her head was getting lighter. "You know, I can't believe that the simple things...can make me this...happy."

Was that too sentimental? Maybe. Maybe she could afford not to care tonight.

"A lot of us should be more like that. Be happy with simple things, I mean."

"Mhm."

"Okay then, let's head back," he rose up. "Any longer now, then you'd be out like a log, and I'd have to carry you again."

"Don't you dare!"

"Just joking, just joking," Pierce chuckled.

"Fine, let's go," she rolled her eyes, but she couldn't wipe the smile from her face.

It had been a wonderful day.

As they were about to set out, the fireworks exploded into the sky, and the people cheered as the colors and sparks illuminated the darkness.

Essex stopped in her tracks, turning to look at the kaleidoscope up there, letting them light up her face. His face. Everyone else's. The world.

It was the grand finale. The last hurrah of Summer.

For now, at least.

***

"Hey babe, sorry for leaving you for so long, but you've been a baaad girl. Hope you've calmed down now," Pierce was cheery as he entered his car and gave the steering wheel a light slap.

Essex was amused, watching his interactions with his vehicle. He was acting like it was his girlfriend.

"That's not how you treat a lady," she couldn't resist teasing.

"Hey, I know. She's not a lady. But she's important to me."

"And why is that?"

"She has always been there for me," he said as he patted the dashboard, and Essex wondered if the car would purr.

"I could imagine," she rolled her eyes, the amused smile betraying her attempt to come across as deadpan. She was about to put on the seatbelt when she noticed him stepping out and throwing his pack of cigarettes into the trash bin.

"Um...what was that?"

"Don't need them anymore right now."

"Really? And why's that?"

"Nothing's gonna upset me for the rest of the night. Not even if the road suddenly disappears or my tires blow up. Or if this girl decides to act up...again."

"Really, now."

"Yeah, really," he got back in and turned on the keys. The engine came to life so easily, like it was never broken. He revved it up a bit and looked satisfied with how it growled back. "Now, let's go home."

"Good," Essex yawned, the drowsiness catching up. She kept the eagle plushie close as she leaned back.

"Oh, wait," Pierce turned to the backseats and took a pillow. It surprisingly didn't smell old or anything like that. In fact, it smelled like it was regularly washed.

"Why are you carrying a pillow?"

"It's mine. For emergencies, when I have to sleep in the car. You can use it."

"Oh...thanks," Essex smiled, hugging the eagle even closer against her chest.

"No worries. I just hope it's comfortable enough."

"I think it's more than enough," she closed her eyes, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up. She could barely discern that he had put the dog plushie by her side.

Or that his gaze held longer than necessary.

Or that he had that kind smile.

Or that he had murmured something, not even barely above a whisper.

But she didn't know what he was thinking.

She did know, however, that she felt so relaxed and at ease and happy and warm and comfortable.

Like a dog lying on the porch, basking in the sun's warmth.

Like a kid, snuggled under the sheets with a pillow and a teddy bear.

It had been too long.

Maybe she had never experienced that kind of feeling, to begin with.

But one thing was sure, one thing she would remember.

It was the first time in a very long time she fell asleep feeling content.

And that was all that mattered.