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Will had never understood the phrase to “discuss the elephant in the room” until the days following the end of the carnival’s wreck of terror. At first, he didn’t notice anything, being too occupied by the clean up of the rotting tents and the remains of the mirror maze.
He and Jim sat on the tilted edge of the rusted merry-go-round picking at the once brightly colored paint, watching as the carnival was slowly transferred to dumpsters brought in by big, loud trucks earlier that day. He was too entranced by the sea of sparkling glass reflecting little pinpoints of color spread between the tall, empty frames where mirrors once stood hauntingly tall, they both were, to notice the ache in their bones and weight in their chests.
They didn’t talk about it that day. They didn’t talk about it on the next, either. Or the next or the next or the next. It was like all talk of the carnival that had once sunk its black teeth into every crevice in their town was tossed in the dumpsters and driven away on the back of the trucks. The town moved on fine. Will’s father seemed to have all but forgotten about the incident, or at least was better at hiding it than Will was.
Jim was quieter now. Well, he was always quiet, but it was a full silence. Now it sits empty, dry, and Will can’t fill it anymore. But it’s okay. They both seem happy to sit together in the silence most days, and with each passing month the silences get shorter and shorter as life gets breathed back into their lungs.
Everything went back to how it was before the cursed song of a calliope rode in the breeze, even the ages of those who had taken their turns on the carousel, everything except this weight hanging in the air between Will and Jim was the same. An eraser smudge on a white paper. A crack in the wall hidden beneath thin paint.
Two years ago, on this day, their life changed and left them behind on its descent back to normality. Two years and the weight is still there. Still uncomfortable. Still creating the occasional dry vacuum of silence between two close friends.
The boys were sitting up on a hill overlooking the field the carnival once occupied. The same hill they spied the carnival from on that first night of its arrival. Side by side, they watched the swaying grass.
The silence was back today, but it was different. Maybe it was the soft brush of Jim’s shoulder on his or a phantom glint of glass in the grass, but Will felt the weight drop into his stomach and twist his throat, letting those traitorous words slip out his mouth.
“What do you remember? From your ride?”
Jim sat, scanning the field, undisturbed by the question. Will, worried that Jim hadn't heard, was about to ask again when Jim replied quietly.
“It’s all hazy, but I remember Dark leaving me on the carousel. I remember the lights. I remember you grabbing my hand. But that’s it. It’s all black until I woke up to your horrible singing.” The last sentence was tinted with a humorous tone but it fell flat. “Why do you ask?”
“Ya’know, that night, I thought- I- I thought you had died.” Will’s voice faded to a whisper.
Jim looked at him, the same frosty green eyes with the same curiosity that they were two years ago, except calmer now, tamer, expecting the story.
“After we–Dad and I–got out of the maze we went straight to the carousel looking for you. It had just started up and we saw you go around once before I was able to reach you. I pulled and something happened, you were shaking and we fell and you hit the ground, out cold.”
Will looked up from the ground, Jim was still watching him.
“You weren’t breathing. We couldn’t feel your heart. Even after we beat Mr. Dark you were still cold. I thought you were dead. I thought you died, Jim.”
He hadn't noticed the hot tears streaming down his cheeks until Jim wiped them away with his thumbs. Tears shone in the corners of Jim’s eyes as he huddled Will into his arms, rocking and hugging him.
“I was s-so sure you died,” Will sucked in a shaky breath, “I thought I lost you.”
“I’m sorry.” Jim rocked gently, holding Will tightly, trails of tears making their way down his own cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
They sat, holding each other softly until they felt each other's breath even out.
“Will?”
“Mhmm?”
“Is- Is there a way I can make it up to you?”
“What?”
“How can I show you I’m sorry? That I won't leave you like that?”
Will thought for a moment and said the first thing that came to mind. “Can I kiss you?”
As soon as the words left Will’s mouth he knew it was a mistake. He slapped a hand over his mouth and sprung up out of Jim’s arms, crouching on his knees and scrambling towards his feet. Jim is going to hate him now. He’s never going to want to hang out with Will again now that he knows. Now that Will knows.
“I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll leave-” Will felt his eyes get teary again.
“Wait-” Jim reached for Will, scrambling, “Will, wait!”
Jim grabbed his wrist and Will froze.
“Will, look at me please.” Jim asked softly.
Slowly Will turned his body towards Jim, eyes glued to the ground at their feet where the grass lay pressed down in the shapes of their bodies. Jim used his free hand to gently run his finger down Will’s jaw to his chin, nudging his face up to meet his eyes. Jim gave a small smile and used his thumb to wipe the tear streaking down Will’s face, keeping his palm warmly on Will’s jaw.
“It’s okay.” Jim whispered, stepping closer and sliding his hand from Will’s wrist to his palm, intertwining their fingers. “I want to, too”
Before Will could say anything, Jim leaned forward, catching Will’s lips with his own with a faint pressure before pulling away and resting his forehead against Will’s.
“I’d never leave you like that. Remember, we promised. Forever.”
Will pressed a kiss to Jim’s mouth.
“Forever.”