[Carnival: Mars, Jamie, Si, David, Hannah]
It was a twin thing. Si didn't know it, because he wasn't aware of it, but that was probably it. Because, even though Hannah wasn't Amy, she was. In a lot of ways, she was. He thought that urge to call Dad was his. He knew he'd have to keep a lot of shit to himself, but that wasn't abnormal for Si. He hadn't talked to Dad in... probably almost five years, if not more. He'd seen him at the funerals, but they hadn't talked much. Still, the old man had called Si's old haunts around his and Amy's birthday, a month ago, and Si was just getting the messages now. On the drive to the carnival, he'd decided to just go for it. He was sober enough and he could at least talk up having a job or something.
The call lasted about the duration of the drive. It was full of awkward, stilted pauses, but Dad seemed quieter now, sadder. He'd talked about Mom a little. He'd even seemed to mutter to her more than once, like she was right there. It really made Si want a hit of something—of anything, really, but he was trying to hold out until they were almost done here. He didn't even know why anymore. It wasn't like it mattered. But, it felt like it did.—He hung up as he parked on dead grass, spaces rutted into winter dirt by countless cars. The cold bit through his old military surplus coat and his sweater, but at least he'd thought enough to wear a hat. Dull eyed and slouch-shouldered, he walked into the gaping jaws of the carnival and its whirling lights. He huffed a vaporous cloud of breath in front of himself as he lit a cigarette, and he was puffing on it by the time he saw the gleam of Amy's hair under the glimmer of the carousel. Si kept counting his steps, but he probably looked better than he had at Christmas. There dark bags under his eyes were still there and he was addict-pale and smack-thin, but there was a sliver of life in his gaze as he tipped his chin up to call out: "Ames."
His voice was always rough and gritty, but the arm he looped around his sister wasn't scared or tense. If she let him, he pulled her into a brief hug and kissed her temple, before pulling away with his eyes turning to the ground underfoot. "Hey." Si ashed the cigarette on his own sneaker. "Quality time time, huh?" He shivered a little, but smiled uncertainly, forgetting, and not for the first time, that Amy was dead.