After the nerve-wracking evening at the circus, Scarlet found herself with a rare Tuesday off from work, providing her with some much-needed time to process the bewildering events of the previous night. Her fingers lightly graze the small bandage on her neck, a tangible reminder of the unusual encounter with Buggy yesterday.
"The damn clown really managed to cut me," she mutters, her frustration evident as she reflects on the reckless act of throwing a knife with closed eyes. "He could have seriously hurt me. Damn it! He could have easily killed me on the spot!" Scarlet couldn't help but dwell on the potential danger she had faced.
"Fuck that clown," she grumbled to herself, rising from her seat to move around her small one-bedroom apartment.
She gathers a few essentials and tucks them into her handbag, intending to step out for a while. Despite her initial wish to remain seated on the couch and curse Buggy for the ordeal she had endured, the persistent growl of her stomach reminds her that lunch should be a priority.
However, the prospect of a meal was marred by the realization that her fridge was quite empty, adding another layer of annoyance to her already unsettled thoughts.
With the lingering memory of the circus tent and Buggy's unsettling presence slowly receding, Scarlet manages to walk through Orange Town taking in its tranquillity. The gentle sea breeze carries the salty scent of the nearby bay, and the sound of seagulls fills the air, creating a serene atmosphere that soothes her restless thoughts.
Her destination was a small restaurant nestled by the bay, one of her favorite spots in town. The path meandered along the water's edge, offering occasional glimpses of sailboats gliding gracefully across the harbor. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the shore provides a comforting backdrop to her stroll.
As she walks, Scarlet can't help but feel a sense of relaxation washing over her. The sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm and inviting glow that illuminates the cobblestone streets and the colorful facades of the buildings. She marveled at the picturesque scenery, momentarily allowing herself to forget about the enigmatic clown and the circus spectacle.
Suddenly she hears an unmistakable voice calling her from a distance. "Miss Moore!" Her heart skips a beat as she turns around to locate the source, and there, approaching her is little Sarah, accompanied by her mother, who wears a grateful and somewhat emotional expression.
"Hello, Miss Moore," Sarah chirps again once a little bit closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement at seeing her teacher outside of school. "How are you?"
Scarlet can't help but return her warm smile. She kneels down to be at eye level with the young girl and replies with a soft tone of voice, "Hello Sarah. I'm fine. How are you doing?"
Instead of offering a verbal response, Sarah leaps into Scarlet's welcoming arms, wrapping them tightly around her teacher in a heartfelt hug. Communication through words might have been a challenge for Sarah, but her affectionate actions speak volumes.
Not far away, Sarah's mother watches this touching moment unfold, her eyes moist with gratitude. She can't hold back her emotions any longer as she begins to speak. "Thank you, Miss Moore. Sarah told me all about what you did at the circus yesterday. You put yourself in harm's way to protect my precious daughter."
Beneath her breath, Scarlet can't help but catch the older woman's muttered words, "To hell with that clown." The utterance was like an echo from the past, a stark reminder of the harrowing incident that had unfolded at the circus not long ago. While Scarlet is relieved that her courage has ultimately ensured Sarah's safety, a sentiment shared by all those present, there lingers a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.
As she carefully cradles Sarah and then gently places her back on her own two feet, Scarlet can't escape the nagging thought that had settled in her mind. It is the satisfaction of knowing she had acted bravely to protect Sarah; it was the unsettling realization that no one else had been willing to step in and assist the child or herself during that dangerous moment.
"I'm just grateful that no one suffered serious injuries yesterday," Scarlet says, forcing a warm smile as she bid her farewells. She waves politely and resumes her walk, but the usually heartwarming interactions she has with her students and their parents outside of the classroom now left her feeling oddly constricted.
Normally, these encounters leave Scarlet with a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest, a sense of connection and purpose. However, on this occasion, that warmth had given way to a tight, uneasy sensation. Scarlet can't help but reflect on the complexities of human nature, the hesitancy to intervene in times of crisis, and the deep well of empathy and courage it sometimes takes to make a difference.
Only a short moment later, the restaurant came into view, its cozy outdoor seating area adorned with potted plants and colorful umbrellas. Scarlet's pace quickens with anticipation as she approaches the establishment. She can already imagine the savory aroma of her favorite dish wafting through the air and the gentle hum of conversation from other patrons.
Stepping inside, she was greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of the restaurant: the friendly smiles of the staff, the soft murmur of diners, and the breathtaking view of the bay through the large windows.
Scarlet settles into her chosen spot by the window, letting the tranquil ambiance of the place wash over her, erasing the lingering echoes of the circus and allowing her to savor the simple joy of being outdoors and enjoying a peaceful meal by the bay.
As Scarlet relishes her peaceful moment, the tranquillity is abruptly shattered by a loud and all-too-familiar voice. Buggy's boisterous greeting cut through the serenity like a thunderclap as he stepped through the welcoming doors of the quaint and peaceful restaurant. The establishment seems to hold its breath in anticipation of his arrival.
The restaurant is only sparsely populated, affording Buggy and a handful of his loyal crew members a plethora of unoccupied tables to choose from. With an easy, sweeping gesture, Buggy gestures to his crew, granting them the freedom to select their preferred spots.
However, as Buggy casts his gaze around the room, his sharp eyes lock onto a familiar face – Miss Scarlet Moore. A mischievous grin plays on his lips as he begins to make his way toward her table.
"Hello, Miss Moore," Buggy greets the young teacher with an air of nonchalance as he confidently settles into the empty chair across from her. "How are you doing today?"
Scarlet's initially serene expression threatens to twist into one of annoyance upon the unexpected intrusion. Yet, she swiftly reminds herself of the dangers that often accompany Buggy and opts to maintain a pleasant façade.
She returns his greeting with a polite smile, concealing any irritation. "I'm fine. And how are you, Mr.... Oh, Captain Buggy?" Her head tilts slightly as if in playful confusion, as she lets out a soft chuckle. "I apologize. How should I properly address you?"
Buggy leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and adopts an insufferably smug expression "Just Buggy," he responds with a hint of self-satisfaction, fully embracing his notorious reputation as a pirate captain.
Buggy, with a subtle flick of his finger directed at his neck, silently asks about the status of Scarlet's injury, a silent but caring gesture. Scarlet, catching on to his unspoken concern, mirrors his gesture with a faint smile. "Oh?" she playfully echoes, her fingers lightly grazing her neck. "I'm fine, really. It doesn't hurt one bit anymore."
The clown captain acknowledges her response with a nod, though he keeps a watchful eye on her. His gaze burns into her as if determined to ensure her well-being. Scarlet finds herself appreciating the attentive concern in his eyes just as the observant waitress approaches their table, bearing a steaming plate of food.
"Enjoy," the waitress says with a nod, her attention momentarily shifting to Buggy. "Can I bring you anything too, Captain Buggy?" Her polite inquiry aims to extend a warm welcome to their table, but Scarlet can't help but notice the subtle tremble in her fingers, which clutch her pen a bit too tightly.
The waitress's anxious gaze flits nervously around the table, making sure not to linger on the clown for too long, and her throat tightens with each swallow, a clear sign of her dry mouth due to nervousness. The unease in her demeanor speaks volumes about the intimidating aura that Captain Buggy unknowingly excuses, leaving an indelible impression on those who encounter him.
Buggy, maintaining an air of apparent disinterest, waves his hand dismissively, as if shooting away an irritating insect, signaling for the waitress to leave their table. The young girl, eager to escape the palpable tension, hastens away without any hesitation.
With the waitress now out of earshot, leaving only Scarlet and Buggy at the table, the clown captain leans in closer, his gaze fixed firmly on her eyes. He poses a question that carries both curiosity and a determination to discern the truth. "Aren't you scared of me too?"
Scarlet finds herself in a delicate predicament. While a sense of unease lurks within her when faced with Buggy, it isn't to the same extent as the fear that grips the others. She believes she has found a way to navigate this unpredictable man and ensure her safety.
"I'm cautious around you, just as I am with everyone else," she replies, taking a measured approach to her words. "I don't want to upset anyone." Her response seems to surprise Buggy. He leans back in his chair, scrutinizing her for a moment before shifting his attention to her plate of food.
"Eat," he commands, his tone firm but not unkind. Scarlet nods in acknowledgment and begins to partake of her meal, observing the enigmatic pirate captain out of the corner of her eye.