Chapter 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Dr. Lucas Hamilton

Sunday dawns, and there's nothing to do for a time but hold each other. The promising erotic intensity of last night doesn't translate in the bright morning light. Whether I'm still too conflicted—or exhausted—to initiate anything or Sumner is only comfortable making love in the darkness of night, we content ourselves with cuddling and kissing each other awake. Between us there's a new understanding. We'll have a lifetime together. Why rush?

Eventually, Sumner and I rise and troop down to the kitchen for coffee and toast. We use the last of Mrs. McKenzie's fine jam, kissing to share the sweetness between us.

Do I like eating nothing more substantial than bread for my morning meal? Do I miss having a variety of fruits and vegetables and powdered whey protein to blend into a smoothie? Would I rather shower in a water massage steam shower set to stun rather than give myself a wipe down from a shared basin of tepid water? Okay, yeah. I would.

I miss the conveniences of twenty-first century life. I miss the variety and the comfort. The luxury. I miss Sophie. I'm already losing how she looked the last time I saw her. How her fragrance smelled. It's difficult to hold two places and two times in my heart at once. I don't want to forget where I came from or the people I left behind even as the happiness I'm feeling now begins to erase the past.

We don't expect to see any patients until the afternoon because it's Sunday, but Rose and Beryl arrive promptly at 8:00 am. Beryl takes off her jacket and hangs it on a peg in the kitchen.

She goes to the window. "You should look outside. It's the most extraordinary day."

"Is it?" Sumner steps out the kitchen door and lifts his hand to shield his face from the bright sun. I follow. Beryl is right.

It's a perfect morning. The cloudless sky is an endless rich blue, and there's not a whisper of wind. It's the kind of day I moved to New Mexico for. I can't help but let the warmth of the sun seep into my bones. A day like this makes a promise to the primeval soul: the night is conquered. The sun has risen. The earth is warm with spring and better days will surely come.

You couldn't get a better message in church than the one nature has for us outside.

"You should go on a picnic." Rose claps her hands. "Just the two of you. It's a beautiful day."

Sumner declines. "We need to be here if anyone comes in."

"If that happens, we can handle it," says Rose. "If we can't, we'll send Calvin to bring you back."

"I don't think so." Duty comes first with Sumner, but I think a picnic is a fine idea.

"We don't have to go far," I say, trying to coax him into going along with the idea.

Beryl pours coffee for herself and Rose. "A day like this should be savored. The air is as clean as we've seen it since we got here."

"Go on, you two. Live a little." Rose makes shooing motions. "Luther McKenzie says there's a little pond past the cemetery if you head west on the first gravel road you come to. It's twenty minutes by car."

Sumner gives me a coy smile. "Feel like a drive?"

"The sun is out. The air is breathable. We can explore a little, if Rose and Beryl promise to have Calvin get us if someone needs a doctor," I say.

"Pshaw, don't flatter yourselves." Beryl lifts her mug. "We do the work around here. You two are window dressing."

Sumner gives her wink. "All right, you talked me into it."

"Good for you." Rose leaves the kitchen only to come back with a picnic hamper. "Mrs. McKenzie packed you some lunch. Enjoy yourselves. You've earned a little sunshine, Doctor Delano."

"You had this all planned?" Sumner takes the basket from her. "Thank you, my dear."

I will never have a better excuse to quote Doctor Who. "Allons-y, Alonzo."

"Beg pardon?" Sumner gives me a quizzical look.

"Never mind." I feel almost giddy. "Let's go before something comes up."

Outside, we sweep off the dust that collected on the car overnight. Sumner takes the wheel, and we roll down the windows. There's no haze in the air, and no need for a mask. It's simply perfect.

Apparently, everyone is affected by the clear blue sky. People walk slower on their way to church. They stop to talk. Though parents try to rein them in, children skip and play with unbridled enthusiasm. As we drive, a few people wave to us. It's nice to see familiar faces, even if I can't put names to them yet.

I'm starting to absorb the fact that I won't get home. Maybe I've come to accept that this is my home, and these are my neighbors. It isn't the life I'd have chosen specifically, but it's the life I have, and it's good.

Sumner is my home now.

The tires bobble over the rough road, but the ride is pleasant. There's something about the concept of taking a Sunday drive I've always liked. We don't talk. We don't have to. I move closer to Sumner. After all, it's a bench seat with no seatbelts. Sumner keeps his left hand on the wheel. His right hand covers mine on the brief space between us when he doesn't need it to shift.

So far, there are few cars, and once we turn onto the gravel road, we don't see another car for miles. When we find the place Luther told Rose about, we discover it's a spring-fed pond with a miraculous trio of willow trees to provide shade. Wild grass and reeds rustle on the banks as geese waddle through them. It's the last thing I expect in this arid place. I feel moved and shocked and delighted all at once.

"Didn't expect this," Sumner says as he parks the car. "Those geese must be stopping here on their way north."

"One goose looks like another to me."

"Those are Canadian geese." He points out their black necks and white collars. "They fly north this time of year to breed."

"They're loud."

"Scary, too. Never feed them or they'll get downright nasty if you don't bring them food the next time."

"I'll put that on my To Learn list. Goose Etiquette."

"I'll protect you, dearest." Sumner kisses my cheek. I can't help glancing around, but there's no one else here.

After we get out of the car, Sumner rummages through the trunk and finds a sheet.

"Please tell me this wasn't used to wrap a body."

"Yes, but it's clean."

"Is it, though?" I have my doubts.

"C'mon." Sumner spreads the sheet out far enough away to reassure any waterfowl that we're benign. I lie back with my head on my arm and gaze at the sky. It's Instagram worthy. Bees hum. A dragonfly buzzes the surface of the water. Sumner lies beside me, and eventually, he takes my hand in his.

"It's nice here," he says.

"I love that you're not afraid to hold my hand. I can see why someone might be. I'm loudly and proudly queer. Or I was."

Sumner tightens his hold on my hand. I imagine hiding all the things he and Philip must have kept secret, and I can't.

"There will always be people who believe we should go two-by-two, one man and one woman. But I think if God intended for me to be straight, I'd be straight," I brush a fly from my ear.

"I don't pay much attention to those people, but I've never liked confrontation. I've hidden all my life."

I love the sound of water lapping the bank. "Wish you didn't have to."

He shrugs. "You don't miss what you never had."

"You can have it from me." I roll onto one arm and run my finger down the blade of his nose. "This is very patrician, Doctor Delano. You have a noble nose."

He snorts as he shifts to face me. "Marie was right. You are the serpent in my garden of Eden."

"If you believe the creation story. Do you ever wonder what would have happened if nobody ate the apple? Without the knowledge of good and evil, we can't tell the difference. But the apple exists. Therefore, until man eats the apple, everything can theoretically be both good and evil at the same time. That's the paradox of superposition."

He pushes me over. "Are you even speaking English right now?"

"Not really." My eyes are drifting closed.

He gives me another shove. "You are a lesson in patience, Doctor Hamilton."

Thinking about the things we started last night I give him a slow smile. He sits up, fishes an apple out of the picnic hamper, and offers it to me. "How about we see for ourselves?"

I take a bite and hand it back. Sweet, tart. It's a little hard. I don't feel any different.

He eats a bite. "I see no evil here. Just a man. Someone I've come to love very much."

There he goes again. Barreling forward. Crushing any last minute doubts or reservations I have. "I love you too, Sumner."

He smiles shyly and we finish the apple together. It's so pleasant, I can't help dozing off until I notice something out of place in my dream.

An engine.

Sumner has slipped his hand out of mine. He sits up and either the movement or the shift in light and shadow startles me. There's a car coming. Maybe someone else is out to enjoy the morning. Maybe more people will come after church ends.

I blink my eyes and get to my knees to help Sumner pick up our things.

The car stops, and Calvin jumps out.

"Come quick!" He runs toward us, waving his arms.

I shoot to my feet. "What's happened?"

"Is it Rose and Beryl?" Sumner drags the sheet from the ground and bunches it up carelessly. "Are they all right?

"It's not that." Calvin stops and rests his hands on his knees to catch his breath. "You asked me to let you know if the carnival came back. They were setting up this morning before we went to church. It's in the same spot. They're here!"

I don't look at Sumner. I need to catch my breath after the shock of hearing the carnival is back.

"Luke," Sumner says quietly.

I keep my eyes on the horizon. My body says fight or flee, but it knows I have another insidious option: to freeze.

"Luke," Sumner says again. "You must try to go back."

"Why must I?" I ask angrily. "I just made peace with what is . I just made peace with never seeing Sophie again. I threw caution to the wind, and I let myself see what it would be like to love you wholly and completely. I let go of my doubts. I can't lose you, Sumner. Not now."

"Dearest." Even with Calvin looking on, he takes me in his arms. "I'll always love you. But Sophie is part of you."

"This can't be happening." I drape my arms over his shoulders and start to cry.

He kisses the top of my head. "You don't want to live here, where we'll always attract condemnation."

"Speaking of which, how's Calvin taking our public display?" I sniff but don't turn to look.

"He's blushing furiously. I expect him to implode any second." He grips the back of my head and kisses me again. He may be holding me, but emotionally I sense he's already pulling away. "I don't regret loving you."

"I could never regret loving you. The time we've had together is so precious." He pushes me back and smooths his hands over my hear. His eyes are so bleak it hurts to look at him. "I don't want to go."

"And?" he prompts.

"And…I would regret it all my life if I didn't go to the carnival and try."

He nods. Kisses my forehead. "So we're in accord? You're going to try to go back?"

"I don't know what we're so worried about." I laugh and wipe my eyes with the heels of my hands. "It probably won't even work."

"At least you'll have done all you can."

"I'm probably dead." I laugh. "This is all an illusion."

"That's right." His thumbs graze my cheekbones. He has such lovely hands. Such blue, blue eyes. I want to capture this moment and hold onto it forever.

My heart gives a pained squeeze. "I don't want to go."

"I can't force you to go." I love this man.

I shake my head, because like good and evil, like a dead or maybe alive cat, two things can be true at the same time until you eat the apple or open the box.

"I want both of you. I want to split my soul in half and live out the rest of both lives."

"If only wishes were horses. Shall we?" Sumner's wistful smile kills me. I'm utterly his forever and ever, and it sucks.

I swallow the lump that burns my throat and nod. "All right."

When I turn, Calvin has climbed into the front seat of his borrowed car. It starts like a popcorn machine and slowly pulls into a U-turn.

Sumner and I stow the sheet and hamper in the trunk of his car. I take a last deep breath of the fine, fresh air and get in. Sumner takes his time before he joins me. We kiss deeply, almost frantically. Then he starts the car, and we make the turn to go back.

For a while, we follow Calvin. He sticks his arm out to point ahead and then turns off the highway for home. The carnival is indeed set up in the same place. There are cars in the lot already. I don't know what to say when Sumner parks.

He takes my hand in his and lifts it to his lips.

I can't bear leaving him. I can't bear not knowing what will happen if I pass through the Carnival of Mysteries gates.

"I'll miss you." He says.

I start to cry. I have no words. I'm a mess, now. A blubbering mess.

"None of that, dearest." He hands me his handkerchief. The old fashioned, monogrammed, carefully ironed cotton square makes me smile. "We don't know what will happen. We may laugh about this before the end of the day. If not, I'm going to assume you're back with Sophie, and I'll be happy for you."

I dry my eyes.

More cars arrive, and some park near ours. It seems the kiss we shared before will be our last. He grips the door latch. "Come, dearest. Destiny awaits."

"All right, love." I realize what I said. Love. That's the word that speaks to me of Sumner. Of course it is.

"That's nice. I like it." He opens the door and gets out. I meet him in front of the car. "I like being your love."

The two of us make our way to the gate, where I recognize the ticket seller. Oh, God. It's the man with unfathomable eyes. This man knew too much last time. Who is he? What is he?

"You go on," Sumner says stoutly. "If nothing happens, I'll be here when you come out."

His hope hurts my heart. "I don't want you to wait. I might not come back."

"That would suit me fine. I'll wait." His nonchalance is feigned. I appreciate the effort.

"Please, love. Go. I could be in there for hours."

He closes his eyes and bows his head. "Do you have a mask?"

I empty my pockets. "I have two masks and a handkerchief. I can meet any occasion, I promise."

"And if nothing happens?"

"I'll ask some lucky stranger for a ride back." I cup his face between my palms. He opens his eyes. "I promise not to pick a homicidal maniac with a hook for a hand."

He laughs. "You madman."

We clasp hands. This hurts . How can something emotional cause so much gut wrenching pain?

"No goodbyes between us, love," I give his hands one last squeeze.

"No goodbyes, dearest. None." He lets me go. I wait right there until I see him get into his car and drive away. Only when he motors out of sight do I remember I have no money with me.

I can't believe I forgot money! "Shit, shit, shit."

I look at the ticket gate. The sign says adult tickets cost a dollar. That seems like a lot for 1934. I paid ten dollars last time. I feel a tug on my sleeve.

"Mister." A scrawny freckled urchin stands looking up at me, holding out a silver dollar. "You dropped this."

"I don't think so.

"But you did." He's so earnest I can't stand it.

"How can you be sure it was me?"

He scratches his neck with his free hand. "I saw it fall out of your pocket."

"It can't have." Before I take the silver dollar, I check my pockets. I must have something. I remember scooping the masks from the dresser and shoving them in there. A nickel falls from the folds of the fabric.

"Thank you for your honesty." I give him five cents in return for the silver dollar.

"Yes, sir!" The kid seems pleased with the trade, which makes me feel like less of an asshole because I swear, I never had a silver dollar in my pocket.

It's possible Sumner sneaked it in there.

When I get to the front of the line, the ticket taker recognizes me. "Evening, Doctor. Always nice to see a return customer."

"How do you know I'm a return customer?" My other trip to the carnival hasn't happened yet. Is this the fucking Twilight Zone?

He shrugs. "I've seen you before."

He's seen me in the future? "That's impossible."

He winks. "Nothing is impossible."

"Right." Disgusted, I hold out the coin. "One ticket please."

"One it is." He hands me a ticket, and I walk past him without answers.

It's the same disco fog. The scent of Sulphur. Barkers shill, and from somewhere a calliope sings. I smell corn dogs.

This time, I don't have a phone. I don't have a picture. I don't have a complex plan. I simply walk the same path I took before. Down the midway, past the attractions, past the wooden loop-de-loop, past the ringmaster, and onward until I reach the purple fortuneteller's tent. I don't know what I expect to find there. It's the same woman: Madame Persephone. She's standing outside her tent with an enigmatic smile on her lips. The spicy souk fragrance fills the air around us.

This can't be real.

I'm sleeping by the spring with the geese. Any minute now, Sumner's going to wake me and kiss me, and we'll make love like we're meant to be together forever because we are.

I'll never know, though. I will never find out for certain unless I take the moving staircase into the dumbassery that is the stupid Fun House. Nothing will happen.

I hesitate…but Sophie. She's my little girl. I wasn't there for her first fifteen years, but I promised I'd be there from now on. Yes, I made a detour, but I wasn't in control of that. I'm not in control of anything, most especially not this carnival.

It's all clear to me now.

I've got to stumble up the Fun House's stupid stairs and into the wild cacophony of sound and flashing lights. I grit my teeth. The floor shakes and spins, and I practically fall into a hall of mirrors. Look! I'm tall, I'm short, I'm fat—blah, blah, blah. I hate this place even more than the first time I was here.

There's no way of telling where I'll end up this time, but I find that immense rolling barrel and I scrape myself to hell again.

I take the stupid disappearing escalator stairs and get to the place with cleaner air. There's the devil's mouth ahead of me. And the pinwheel, knife-throwing room.

Screw your courage to the sticking place and we will not fail.

Lady Macbeth sounds like my mother in my head, which probably explains a lot. Aren't there any other people in here? I'm not above asking someone to hold my hand and guide me out of this miserable place.

Ssoo-ik . Aw, shit. I hate the knife-throw illusion.

"God, make it stop!" I beg as I stumble and crawl from the loading dock door into total darkness. In one direction, there's more fun to be had— really —and in the other direction, there's an emergency exit.

"Oh, fuck no." I look for the little red light. I remember the sign wasn't very big. Just the flicker of a spark in the darkness that I saw as hope last time.

I search.

I search everywhere.

That little flicker of light? That emergency button? That spark of hope?

Is not there.