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+<h1 id="stardust-melody">Stardust Melody</h1>
+
+<p class="description">
+My third installment in Nat1's <a href="https://nat1publishing.com/wwoo/">Write, Wrong, or Otherwise</a> anthology! Stardust Melody follows two ghosts through the streets of Brooklyn as they try to piece together who they are and why they wander. This story is only lightly edited.
+</p>
+
+<p>The gray monoliths of the buildings rose up like towering rock
+formations. With the recent downpour they sprung from pools of sooty and
+tepid water laced with asphalt, soot, and trapped garbage. The rain
+stopped hours ago, but with no sunlight to dry the boulevards, the row
+of streetlamps cast an eerie reflection of light which glowed up from
+the slick avenue. Here, the soft glow of the storefront window mixed
+with the reflection and filled the atmosphere with a warm yellow
+glow.</p>
+<p>Despite the light’s warmth, Frances felt cold. She was always cold
+these days. Cold for as long as she could remember, honestly. Unless she
+thought for too long about how cold she felt, at which point she
+invariably didn’t feel like anything. Ignoring whether she was cold or
+not she was sure of one thing: she was thirsty. Her lips craved the
+slick rim of a cool glass, her nose an acrid and fruity fragrance, and
+her head a warm, numbing, fuzzy sensation.</p>
+<p>She licked her lips and tried to concentrate on the window. It
+showcased a group of mannequins, all posing in partywear outfits. They
+stiffly depicted what surely would be a great night on the town, despite
+never embarking with their chaperones to go anywhere. Frances was sure
+she fit right in with them. Her silvery dress swished as she shifted her
+weight from one leg to another. Her pale, pallid hand absent-mindedly
+twirled the pearls of her necklace. It trembled slightly. <em>Ignore it.
+Just keep ignoring it, that was the key.</em></p>
+<p>Ignoring it was always easier said than done. The party wear in the
+window transported her in time and place to the warm and bright ones of
+a piano, the <em>chicker-chicker</em> of a mixer, and the sharp clinking
+of glasses.</p>
+<p>Luke intruded on her thoughts and attention, as he was wont to do,
+plodding up and down the sidewalk a short distance away. As he drew
+nearer his steps became loud stomps. <em>Little terror’s probably
+seeking attention again</em>. His arms were crossed over his black
+suspenders. Under his gray paper boy cap his rounded face was turned up
+into a discernible frown, clearly communicating a growing, childish
+impatience with the current night’s events.</p>
+<p>“Are we done yet?” he called back over his shoulder as he turned,
+continuing his march. It was always the same question.</p>
+<p>Frances rolled her eyes. After less than an hour of peace the fantasy
+was broken and he tore her back to reality. Their reality. <em>Oh
+goodie, here we go again.</em></p>
+<p>“It’s still my turn,” she replied with a sigh, “besides you still
+haven’t paid me back for the extra time you got yesterday.”</p>
+<p>“Hmpf! Your turns are always so booooooring!”</p>
+<p>Surely his mother spoiled him. “Hush now, be still.”</p>
+<p>Luke un-crossed his arms, and then immediately balled his fists and
+re-crossed them. He resumed his sentinel’s watch patrolling the
+streaked, gum-spotted sidewalk. The little terror was much more
+challenging to ignore for very long. Frances re-trained her eyes on the
+suits.</p>
+<p>The brat stopped his march long enough to add, “what do you want to
+look at breeches for anyway, you’re a girl!” It was more of a statement,
+a jab, than a question.</p>
+<p>“Oh, what would you know about ladies’ fashion, you’re what,
+eight?”</p>
+<p>He stuck out his tongue, re-crossed his arms once more, and shuffled
+off into the middle of the avenue. She followed the troublemaker with
+the corner of her eye as he began to walk a figure eight through the
+pavement, the intersection of his march taking him repeatedly through a
+puddle. Each step on the glossy surface was certainly an attempt to
+disturb the standing water. Make a mess. Little boy stuff. Despite his
+efforts, the puddle remained still and undisturbed.</p>
+<p>The stomping continued to test Frances’ patience. It drew her kicking
+and screaming back from her fantasy. She wheeled around on her heel, her
+hands on her hips.</p>
+<p>“You shouldn’t play in the street, you know!” she admonished, nearly
+raising her finger at him just like her mother used to do to her.
+<em>What would mother have thought if she could see me babysitting
+now.</em></p>
+<p>“You know it won’t make a hill ‘o’ beans difference. Can’t rightly
+die twice, can I?”</p>
+<p><em>I only wish.</em> For a brief moment she paused and wondered
+whether the kid was right. Could they die again? She didn’t want to
+think about it. Thinking about it made her thirsty. What she wanted was
+a stiff drink, soft music, and a warm arm around her shoulder telling
+her it’d all be okay. Things she was certain she’d never have again.</p>
+<p>The little imp resumed his plodding attempts at splashing. He pushed
+his grimy shoes hard against the icelike reflection of the
+streetlights.</p>
+<p>“You know that’ll do nothing,” Frances counseled.</p>
+<p>“It will too! Yesterday – or was it the day before – well anyway,
+yesterday I got it to make a ripple. If I try really hard maybe I can
+learn to do it again.”</p>
+<p>Frances <em>tsked</em> and twirled away from him again. She tried not
+to think about their situation, but it was too hopeless to ignore. She
+didn’t know much about ghosts. She wasn’t much of a reader, or a
+religious type for that matter. She did read about the afterlife in a
+tabloid once, come to think of it. It had gotten passed around all her
+girlfriends and the gossip alone made it worthwhile.</p>
+<p>She remembered more of it now. There was an article in there on
+witchcraft, voodoo, that sort of thing. Talk about curses and how they
+always came in threes. Supposing there was any truth to that slop, she
+figured she was looking at three curses right now.</p>
+<p>Firstly, the two of them were dead. She was sure of that, but she
+wasn’t sure what kind of dead. Best she could figure she was a ghost,
+and a right smart-looking one at that, thankyouverymuch.</p>
+<p>Second, they hadn’t a clue how either of them died. Try as she might,
+the only thing she could be sure of was it had been dark and foggy.
+She’d been driving up the avenues. Big deal, it was not unheard of for
+Brooklyn to be foggy or dark, or for people to die in car crashes.</p>
+<p>Finally, she was tethered to the little terror. They tried
+everything. Nothing worked, they could never get more than about fifty
+paces away from each other before some invisible rope went taught and
+kept them together. She clasped her hands together to stop them from
+shaking. That was the greatest mystery of all. She was so sure, positive
+she had never met Luke before. She couldn’t remember anything about him.
+Why’d she have to get stuck with him?</p>
+<p>To top it all off, not a living soul could hear or see them. To the
+best of her knowledge, Frances was trapped with the plodding soldier for
+eternity. She glanced back at the partywear, trying to imagine somewhere
+– anywhere other than where she was. Instead, she sighed. Surely, no
+amount of concentration would bring back the daydream.</p>
+<p>She unclasped her hands and dusted off her dress habitually, like she
+always did when she felt stir-crazy and it was time to move. Turning to
+Luke, she acquiesced, “alright, it’s your turn.”</p>
+<p>“Oh whoopee!” Luke forgot all about his attempts at splashing and
+jumped up, beaming up with his round face. “Oh this is gonna be swell,
+just you wait. I wanna go to Luna Park!”</p>
+<p>“Luna what?”</p>
+<p>“The park, you know, the one with the airship and the moon and the
+electric lights,” he paused to search her face with recognition, “you
+know, Coney Island.”</p>
+<p>Frances’ gut dropped and she let out a groan. “Luke that’s too far
+away, it’ll be hours.”</p>
+<p>“I’ll just borrow a little time, pleeeease,” he pleaded.</p>
+<p>“You already owe me time. No chance, pick something else,” she turned
+her nose up to make the decision final.</p>
+<p>“No fair, you never do what I wanna do,” he protested, stamping his
+feet.</p>
+<p>“If you wanna go so bad then go by yourself,” she retorted, her nose
+lifting even higher.</p>
+<p>He looked deflated and more plaintive, his eyes softening in his
+round face.</p>
+<p>“You know I can’t go by myself, don’t be so mean.”</p>
+<p>A pang of guilt right to the heart. She pushed past it, satisfied
+that she had finally placed him squarely in a state where he was willing
+to behave. Her throat felt dry again. She swept in for the kill.</p>
+<p>“Your mother must have spoiled you rotten. I don’t see why I should
+go, there’s nothing in it for me,” she said with a questioning
+inflection, opening one eye to look down at him.</p>
+<p>“But it could be fun for both of us. Or we could trade.”</p>
+<p><em>There you go, right where I want you.</em></p>
+<p>“Trade? Fine. We’ll go to Coney Island. But I want something special
+in return.”</p>
+<p>The twerp was energized and vigorously nodded as he said, “Yeah,
+sure, anything!”</p>
+<p>“I want to go to a club. But not just any club. The Jade Bird has a
+late night shindig I used to go to. They have music, dancing, gin, and
+other <em>adults</em>,” she emphasized <em>dults</em>, “We go right
+after Coney Island and the whole time we’re there I don’t want to see
+you. Not a peep. If you wanna go then say yes.”</p>
+<p>Luke scrunched his face up in thought, but it must not have been a
+hard decision because he hurriedly replied, “Deal!” and skipped off down
+the avenue. As the distance grew, Francis felt the familiar tugging
+sensation in her gut. Compelled to move faster to keep up with him, she
+chastised him for running and implored him to slow down.</p>
+<p>This rubber-banding continued for what felt like an hour. Maybe it
+was two? Either way Frances was sure if she could feel her feet that
+they’d be on fire working her way all across Brooklyn to hit the end of
+Surf Avenue. People, living people, began to fill the streets. The
+closer they walked the more they saw. Men in hats and white shirts long
+rid of their work ties escorted ladies in short, summery dresses and
+heels. Invariably, many of the couples toted along leaning, tugging
+children, some wearing shorts and collared shirts while others wore
+narrow suspenders much like Luke’s. <em>Just what I need</em>.</p>
+<p>Finally, they walked under the large, red entrance sign welcoming
+them to Luna Park. Ticket collectors and park attendants paid no
+attention to them, at times peering straight through them to greet other
+park patrons.</p>
+<p>Frances felt ill at ease walking in without paying. She found she
+could push the thought away without much effort. She had no money, and
+even if she did there’d be nobody who could take it. Either way, she was
+pretty sure there should be a discount for ghosts and therefore it was
+justified.</p>
+<p>Luke seemed not to experience this moral quagmire, skipping his way
+into the park. Within, the inky black night sky was disrupted by a star
+field of electric lights. At least a million incandescent yellow orbs
+were strung this way and that across a great, heart-shaped lagoon
+surrounded on both sides by sculpted white parapets. These were broken
+up only by flowery minarets, also in white, decorated lavishly with
+scrollwork and little red heart emblems. Every edge and corner of these
+was equally adorned in that warm, smokeless, man-made fire.</p>
+<p>In the dead center of the lagoon a great rectangular tower of
+illuminated rose-like medallions jutted up like a beacon, a lighthouse
+summoning park-goers to its gold palace below.</p>
+<p>“Chutes first, chutes first!” the brat squealed, sprinting off toward
+the Shoot-the-Chutes line. He took the steps two at a time, paying no
+mind to his manners or the other children. Frances swore she could see
+him pass right through another child once or twice. She trotted to keep
+up but it was no use in her dress and heels, and she was barely at the
+foot of the line when he reached the top.</p>
+<p>“Hey, you behave up there!” she called up, cupping her hands around
+her mouth. The other patrons calmly continued to step up and board the
+toboggan-shaped boats.</p>
+<p>“Oh, gee, this is a biggie,” the terror said, rubbing his hands
+together as he peered down into the ramp and lagoon below.</p>
+<p>A young girl, probably about 10 or just a little older than Luke, was
+being helped into one of the boats. As the operator helped lower her
+over the gunwale her pink dress fluttered. From her vantage point along
+the base of the ride, Frances could see she was adorned head-to-toe in
+pink: pink shoes, pink bonnet, pink stockings. Another gentleman
+squatted down in the boat behind her, smiling as they both settled in
+and gripped the sides of the gunwale.</p>
+<p>Luke wasted no time, jumping aboard just ahead of the girl and
+leaning over the bow with his hands on the forward handrail. Frances
+could see him turn his head to say something to the girl, but she was
+too far to hear anything. She shook her head.</p>
+<p>The operator stepped back inside and pulled a lever. The boat let
+loose and rapidly glided down the steep chute. As it built up speed,
+water sprayed off the prow and up both sides of the hull. Luke let out a
+loud “weeeee!” while the girl in pink squealed with equal parts laughter
+and fright. Frances giggled in spite of herself at the sight of the two
+kids losing their minds to the delight of the chute.</p>
+<p>The boat shot out into the lagoon on plane, scooting across the
+surface with a splash, sending up more spray as it glided to the waters’
+edge. The operator only gently ruddered it alongside as it bumped into
+the dock as the little girl and her escort clapped and cheered. Luke
+joined in as they all disembarked with the help of another
+attendant.</p>
+<p>Luke turned to the girl in pink and spoke to her directly, “That was
+great, oh what a ride. Oh we need to ride that again, let’s get back in
+line.” She was fussing over her bonnet, adjusting the ribbons. “My
+name’s Luke by the way. Are you from Brooklyn too?”</p>
+<p>The girl, satisfied with her attire gripped the gentleman’s hand and
+pointed, squealing, “Daddy, look look!”</p>
+<p>Frances’ heart leapt as she followed the little girl’s finger and
+witnessed a caravan of elephants slowly loping down the main promenade
+around the lagoon. Other park goers stared in awe at the parade, mouths
+agape at the procession of gray beasts, each adorned in red garnets and
+heart-shaped fez. The elephants would randomly toot their trunks and
+flap their ears at passerby.</p>
+<p>“Oh neato, so you like elephants huh?” Luke continued his one-sided
+conversation. He gripped his cap and alternated glances at the large,
+gray animals and the girl in pink. Her eyes remained transfixed on the
+elephants only.</p>
+<p>Finally, she interjected, “Daddy, can we ride them, can we?” she
+squealed again, giving her father a tug on his sleeve. The pair then
+began to excitedly start off in the direction of the elephants.</p>
+<p>Luke called out after them as they went, “Hey, I could go with you!
+We could be friends!” After another moment, they were gone in the sea of
+spectators in their slacks and dresses. His arm hung out in midair,
+grasping almost for a hand to take him away too.</p>
+<p>Frances leaned with her weight on one leg, rubbing her hands up and
+down her arms gently trying to warm herself. She pursed her dry lips,
+unsure what to say or do. <em>He knows right? He couldn’t forget, could
+he?</em></p>
+<p>“Hey um,” she started, immediately unsure how to finish. The rest of
+the sentence didn’t come. She was terrible with kids. Swallowing, her
+mouth suddenly very dry and patchy feeling, she started over, “She can’t
+see–”</p>
+<p>“Yeah, I know she can’t hear me. Or see me. I just – I dunno, I guess
+I just felt like having another kid to play with would be nice is all.
+Then you wouldn’t have to.”</p>
+<p>A lump grew in Frances’ throat. Just peachy. <em>Now the kid’s got a
+moral high ground</em> she thought. She absent-mindedly twirled her
+pearl necklace. She felt shrewd and frumpy. Here was this kid, this
+child who never got to grow up. Would never get to grow up. Never play
+with other children on the playground again, never go to school, play
+sports, or dance at prom.</p>
+<p><em>Yeah Frances, real nice piece ‘o’ work, how do you feel now?</em>
+<em>You’re a washup, a rich wannabe party animal who’s gonna be
+forgotten and go on being annoyed forever. Boo-hoo, here’s a kid who
+lost his shot at beginning to live.</em></p>
+<p>She swallowed and then clasped and un-clasped her hands. She didn’t
+want to drag this out. The time passed quicker when he was having fun.
+She still wanted to make the Jade Bird, after all.</p>
+<p>“Hey Luke, er, if it makes you feel any better, I could be your
+friend. For tonight I mean. Er, I didn’t mean that, I just meant we
+could hang out for a while.”</p>
+<p>Well that sounded real nice. <em>Great job again, Frances.</em> What
+did she even sound like?</p>
+<p>Luke turned around, his hands behind his back. His pale, round face
+looked up at hers, puzzled.</p>
+<p>“You mean it? You wanna be my friend?”</p>
+<p>“Yeah, um, sure I do,” she replied, re-centering herself on both
+heels before adding, “Hey look, there’s this um, ride over there,” she
+pointed off to the left promenade back toward the entrance. Avoiding eye
+contact she continued, “I bet you’d like it. Called the Dragon’s Gorge
+or something. Wanna try it?”</p>
+<p>“Dragon’s Gorge? Sounds cool!” the kid perked up, gripping his
+suspenders and readying to run before she caught him.</p>
+<p>“Actually yes, but we have to walk there. Like friends. No running
+off.”</p>
+<p>“Oh yeah, sure.”</p>
+<p>They began their stroll around the lagoon. Frances crossed her arms
+and sauntered along, the silvery sequins of her party dress clicking
+around. Luke fell into line and tried his best to match her pace,
+straying a little and then bouncing back whenever he saw a clown, a
+store, or something else which grabbed his curiosity.</p>
+<p>Frances let her eyes linger on the tall, many-faceted glazed windows
+of the Grand Ballroom as they passed by. Within, a small band played
+jazz standards while a lady in an emerald green halter top sang to a
+delighted crowd of swishing, bobbing dancers. Tuxedoed arms caressed a
+menagerie of colorful dresses dotted with beads and furs, despite the
+heat. Occasionally, a pair of lips would steal a quick kiss when its
+owner suspected nobody else may be looking.</p>
+<p>Frances hated it. The whole scene looked all too familiar. Pair after
+pair of happy couples dancing the night away with armfuls of each other.
+Here she was, alone and miserable like so many other dreary New York
+evenings. All she needed was a glass and the picture would be
+complete.</p>
+<p>The emerald singer’s words floated out the double doors, tickling
+Frances’ ears and enticing her to think about something else. She
+allowed herself just a small respite to catch the lyrics.</p>
+<p><em>Lonely days are long, twilight sings this song</em><br />
+<em>Of the happiness that used to be</em><br />
+<em>Soon my eyes will close, soon I’ll find repose</em><br />
+<em>And in dreams you’re always near to me</em></p>
+<p>Her mind greeted them, pulled them in, and allowed them to push out
+her ruminations. She turned them over and over again. The tune lilted
+and bounced around in her head until she found herself humming it while
+they strolled along the park promenade.</p>
+<p>The kid drowned it out with, “You must like parties, huh?”</p>
+<p>The question almost startled her out of the fantasy. “I like ’em,
+yeah. I like singing mostly, I wanted to be a singer before…” She left
+the sentence unfinished. It felt like the wrong thing to share at the
+wrong time.</p>
+<p>“Oh, it’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be a friends’ secret.”</p>
+<p>She smiled, eyes shut, not meaning anything in particular by it and
+hoping he wouldn’t probe further.</p>
+<p>Luke continued, “Is that why you wanna go to the club? So you can
+sing at a party again?”</p>
+<p>The party slipped back into Frances’ mind. The room was dimly lit and
+cloudy with the culmination of two dozen cigarettes, the wisps of which
+all conjoined into a great fuzzy approximation of the reality behind
+them. The clinking of ice in one ear and the popping of a champagne cork
+in the other. Those were the most prominent sounds, a cacophony which
+drilled through the soft rags of the tinkling piano. She tasted salt,
+little drips flowing down from her eyes, over her nose and onto her
+lips. In her fantasy she was crying. <em>Seriously</em>? She wondered
+whether she could even cry now.</p>
+<p>She shook her head. Luke watched her expectantly, but quietly left
+her alone with her thoughts this time. Her hands trembled and her head
+felt dull so she tried to change the subject, to think of something else
+– anything else.</p>
+<p>“How about you kid, anything you wanted to do? You know, before,
+<em>it</em> happened. What did you wanna do when you grew up?” <em>Nice
+Frances, that’ll help</em>.</p>
+<p>“Me?” Luke looked puzzled by the question, then wrapped both his
+hands around his chin and shouted, “Grow a beard!”</p>
+<p>She giggled, her nose catching the air in a snort. Luke returned the
+laughter, and she found that the more he laughed the more she laughed
+back at him. The laughter caught her off guard and the more it continued
+the harder it was to stop. Finally, it subsided, and she coughed to
+shake the last out of her throat.</p>
+<p>“That’s it? You want a beard?”</p>
+<p>“Oh yeah, I mean I dunno if I can now but I always wanted to grow a
+real big white beard. So when I’m an old man I can say ‘hey you
+whipper-snappers, you get along ’fore I give you a caning!’” he mimicked
+wielding a stick in one hand while the other maintained his fingered
+beard.</p>
+<p>Hands on her hips, Frances returned, “Wow Mr. Luke, you sure are a
+crochety old man.” Luke continued to smile but returned his hands to his
+pockets as he walked.</p>
+<p>The Dragon’s Gorge now dominated the park before them. It presented
+itself as a gargantuan archway, appropriately guarded by two monstrous
+dragons on either side, each with a pair of glowing green eyes. The
+archway itself spanned a large recess which showcased a diorama of
+scenery and railways within. Occasionally, with a clatter and a scream
+of surprise, a train full of passengers would careen around a corner and
+then dip out of sight behind the next outcropping of faux rock.</p>
+<p>Luke’s pace quickened as he skipped ahead to the entrance. There
+wasn’t much of a line and Frances was able to persuade Luke to wait with
+her for an empty car. He could do with some fresh manners anyway, and
+she didn’t much feel like sitting in the same seat as someone else.
+Literally.</p>
+<p>What couldn’t have been five minutes passed in silence before a
+brakeman guided an empty train car onto the staging lane. It was adorned
+with heart-shaped scrollwork and even more dragon heads, these ones
+sticking their tongues out. Luke hopped into the back and Frances
+carefully stepped down into the wooden cart beside him.</p>
+<p>A young couple, dressed down in casual wear, took their seats up
+front. Once they were settled, the brakeman let loose the cart and they
+began their rickety descent.</p>
+<p>Frances’ stomach lurched as they rounded the first corner. She gasped
+as the train tilted back up a ramp and caught on a ratcheting lift. The
+<em>clank-clank</em> of the tracks drowned out any other noises the
+attraction may have been making as the train climbed higher and
+higher.</p>
+<p>Out of the corner of her eye Frances caught the kid looking around,
+trying it seemed to get a glimpse of what came next. His big, round eyes
+put his circular face into a state of apparent worry. She immediately
+regretted suggesting this. The Dragon’s Gorge? At his age he should
+probably be on the teacup ride or something.</p>
+<p>She gripped the handlebars as they crested over the ramp, the train
+briefly floating before thunderously clanking its way down to the other
+side straight into a narrow tunnel.</p>
+<p>In the blink of an eye Frances found herself in a brightly lit scene,
+the train clacking away and swerving left and right, eliciting gasps
+from the couple ahead. All around was a carefully constructed miniature
+Grand Canyon. At least, that’s what it looked like. There were dusty red
+paper mache rocks forming a ridge high up above the tracks on both
+sides. Down below the tracks a trickling blue river of dyed water
+babbled in an artificial creek bed.</p>
+<p>Up on one ridge was a makeshift teepee flagged by clotheslines of
+hanging pelts and a few large clay jars. On the other ridge sat six
+taxidermied buzzards all packed together, staring down with eyeless,
+beady faces at the passengers. As they trundled along, Frances
+envisioned them hunched over, tearing into a bony, decrepit steer like
+in some picture show. She tried not to think of what may have become of
+her body, the one she occupied for what seemed like a much shorter stint
+of life the more she pondered it. She felt parched in the artificial
+arid landscape.</p>
+<p>Once or twice the brakeman yanked the lever, slowing the cart up with
+a jerking sensation as they plunged into another tunnel. Luke slid
+across the seat and was now sidled up to her, practically sitting on the
+beads of her dress, as his hands tightly clasped the handlebar.</p>
+<p>The tunnel slipped away, revealing cool blue hues and the shimmering
+reflection of water on the ceiling. It was relieving to fly away from
+the desert so quickly, and Luke let out an audible “Aaah” as the forward
+passengers sighed with some mixture of relief and amusement.</p>
+<p>All around the train were a menagerie of marine life. Schools of fish
+flitted this way and that on thin, complicated networks of wire. The
+dark blue rocks were speckled with purple corals, orange starfish, and
+wavy, shimmering green sea grass.</p>
+<p>Twice Frances was sure the train was headed right for a rock face
+(and once a large tuna) before the wheels thundered them out of the way
+on a different course. The car rounded another corner and the scene
+opened up even more, boasting a great expanse filled with larger
+creatures. White ice sheets dotted the ceiling and chubby seals dove
+from them down through the air, disappearing around another rock with a
+mechanical click.</p>
+<p>She could have believed for a moment she was truly beneath the ocean
+before the main attraction dominated the room: a panoramic view of the
+oceanic backdrop was thrust a great undersea ship. It was coppery,
+cigar-shaped, and decked out in portholes full of electric lights. The
+Vernian craft elicited a “Captain Nemo!” from the kid, who turned to
+Frances pointing at the vessel. Gasps of “ooh”s and “aah”s from the
+other two passengers showed that at least on some level they were
+impressed with this attraction.</p>
+<p>She Frances didn’t want the scene to end. It actually felt sort of
+peaceful. She could forget for a minute that she was anywhere else than
+settled quietly on the bottom of the sea, watching the fish go by. She
+wondered whether when it was her turn she wouldn’t rather go walk the
+beach and see just how many fish Luke and her could spot if they
+wandered down into the Atlantic.</p>
+<p>The next tunnel draped them in darkness all too quickly though, and
+her stomach lurched before she was sure the cart was being lifted up by
+another ramp, the tell-tale clattering of the track told her it had to
+be.</p>
+<p>The ramp was much shorter this time, as Frances counted the seconds
+stopping short of the last ramp before the train stopped clanking and
+nosed down again. The tunnel forked hard to the left as the whole park
+came back into view. From within the archway’s diorama the park looked
+breath-taking. The yellow spots of warm light beaded every surface and
+were a blur from their speed. Park goers down below stood up, some
+waving at the train as it rolled along.</p>
+<p>Luke gave a wave back, holding onto his cap and laughing gleefully as
+he shouted something nonsensical down between the dragon statues. It
+seemed like a nice finale. If given the option Frances fancied she’d
+like to get off and walk around some more. The brakeman pulled his lever
+once or twice but made no effort to stop the ride. The train crested one
+more ridge and then dove out of sight of the park into darkness
+again.</p>
+<p>With more darkness came more speed. The sickening twists and turns
+became more jolting and jarring now. Frances couldn’t help but feel a
+strange, familiar sensation. Plunged into darkness, lurching this way
+and that as a set of mechanical wheels beneath her skidded and slid
+along, always on the edge of control. She felt her foot instinctively
+applying pressure with her toes, feeling around for a brake pedal which
+wasn’t there.</p>
+<p>Frances yelped as a sudden ramp tipped the cart back. Her gut lagged
+behind, stretching out forward with the train’s momentum as their speed
+was stolen away by the incline. Now the cart creaked along, crawling
+toward a bright orange-red glow at the end of the tunnel.</p>
+<p>Tantalizingly slow, the train emerged into a scarlet cavern
+illuminated by wrought-iron torches of open flame. The tracks rested on
+a trestle over another river, much like the Grand Canyon but this one
+burbled with thick, red lava. Or was it blood? Stalactites clung to the
+ceiling above the rectangular cavern, and Frances wished she kept her
+eyes fixed on them.</p>
+<p>All around, the cave walls were pimpled with grotesque faces.
+Wretched mouths oozed pain from the slick rock below black eyes. Tears
+of thick red fluid seeped out of them. Frances felt herself clenching
+the handlebar and holding her eyes shut tight like some scared little
+girl. She forced them open gain and looked down into the river. It was
+occupied by a lone boatman in dark, tattered robes. He was posed in this
+the scene with a gold coin in one bony palm, while the other hand
+clutched a push pole.</p>
+<p>Horrible, grasping, and plaintive hands rose up out of the river and
+clung to the boat while the boatman looked on, featureless beneath his
+charcoal hood.</p>
+<p>On the other side of the seat, Luke began to shudder. His whole body
+trembled and shook, and when Frances leaned over to check on him she saw
+his face was wet. Streaks of slobbery boogers mixed with teardrops on
+his cheeks and he made no attempt to lift his arm or wipe them away.
+<em>Oh, real great job, Frances.</em></p>
+<p>She balled up as much of her hem as she could and attempted to wipe
+Luke’s face with it. To her surprise, it seemed to actually work. She
+quickly wrapped her arm around Luke. He was unexpectedly cold to the
+touch but he leaned into her while the train crept beneath the torch lit
+archway at the end of the cavern.</p>
+<p>To her relief, the train slowly clacked around one last soft turn and
+screeched to a halt at the end of the staging platform. Ahead, the young
+lady was still still covering her eyes while her date laughed on.
+<em>Ass</em>.</p>
+<p>Poor Luke was quiet, emitting only the occasional sniffle. She helped
+him up and out of the car. Another go was definitely not what he needed
+right now.</p>
+<p>Frances walked him off away from the Dragon’s Gorge and down a grassy
+bank. It met a narrow river which meandered through the park. A myriad
+of little gondolas propelled by much friendlier-looking boatmen and
+their push poles chauffeured guests around lily pads and beneath white,
+heart-adorned bridges.</p>
+<p>With no idea how to comfort Luke, she just said, “you know, I bet
+they take a whole day to change the light bulbs on that submarine. And
+the plumber probably has to wear galoshes just to work in the River
+Styx, what do you think about that?” Frances realized once again just
+how much she sucked with kids.</p>
+<p>She laughed in a meager attempt to liven things up but it was no use.
+The little boy remained silent, and just took a seat at a small cafe
+table and chairs a few feet up the bank. Frances felt cold creeping in
+again. She wrapped her arms around herself and just stared into the
+rippling water, watching the ripples bounce of the beds of reeds and
+lily pads.</p>
+<p>“Frances,” he asked timidly, “are we in hell?”</p>
+<p>She couldn’t remember the last time she heard her name spoken. His
+voice sounded so small. It sounded hurt and scared and forgotten, like
+it might be buried and left behind for good. His words sent chills up
+her spine, and she struggled to feel warm inside and out. She clutched
+her dress tighter.</p>
+<p>Frances chose her words carefully, but they still struggled to come
+out. “Oh Luke, where did you get an idea like that?” She strode over,
+not quite sure how close to get.</p>
+<p>“Well, my momma taught me all about heaven. But this doesn’t seem
+like it. I never figured on being cold or scared or bored in heaven. So
+far as I can tell then this is, you know, the other place. But that ride
+– that ride is what I thought it was supposed to be like.”</p>
+<p>She smiled grimly and pulled out the other cafe chair to sit beside
+him. He certainly was an intelligent little boy after all, wasn’t
+he?</p>
+<p>“Luke, I don’t know much more than you do, but I know enough to be
+sure you aren’t in hell. And you shouldn’t say things like that. First
+of all, as far I can see we’re still in Brooklyn, and there’s a lot of
+folks around here who don’t strike me as the hellish type,” she paused
+to let it sink in. Behind Luke’s troubled, gray eyes she suspected the
+wheels were turning but he wasn’t quite believing her. Placing her
+finger under his chin, she continued, “Second, you’re too good a boy to
+go to hell.”</p>
+<p>She brushed the dark bangs from her eyes and smiled again, as genuine
+a smile as she could muster. His round face still pursed with questions,
+his eyes darting across the lines of her face looking for what she
+assumed was comfort, answers, or both.</p>
+<p>He started again, “But why then? Why are we here? When can we
+leave?”</p>
+<p>“I wish I did know that.” This poor kid. He wasn’t frightened of some
+ride so much as he was afraid of the afterlife. The beyond. <em>Sheesh,
+maybe I really am a miserable person. Maybe I do deserve to be stuck
+here. But he hasn’t done a thing wrong to deserve this. To deserve
+landing with me.</em></p>
+<p>She patted him on the head awkwardly, as if he were her old spaniel,
+and tried her best to comfort him. Then and there Frances had a new
+goal, a reason to go on, do better, lift herself out of her funk. She
+was going to do her damnedest to make Luke’s eternity just a little bit
+nicer, whatever that took. It didn’t matter how bad she wanted out of
+it, how bad she wanted to dance or run or dive into a bottle, she’d
+figure it out somehow.</p>
+<p>“Hey, how about you pick what we do next?” she said, patting his
+shoulder.</p>
+<p>“Oh, I dunno, I think it’s your turn. Should we go to your party? You
+wouldn’t wanna be late.”</p>
+<p>She tutted and waved the thought away with a hand, “Eh, that juice
+joint had no atmosphere anyway. Not like this place,” she gestured
+around to the still-glowing white minarets of the park.</p>
+<p>He stirred in his seat. Then he asked in a soft, squeamish voice,
+“You mean you wanna have a party right here?”</p>
+<p>Frances giggled. “Sure, right here. We got lights, we got guests, now
+all we need is a band.”</p>
+<p>“You can sing!” he blurted.</p>
+<p>She was taken aback, swallowing and rubbing her hands together.
+“Well, sure but I didn’t mean me. I mean, I’m not very good is all.”</p>
+<p>“Oh it’s okay, I can plug my ears. Well there’s the boats too, but
+they can’t hear us anyway.” At her hesitation and upturned eyebrows he
+added, “C’mon, it’ll be great, it’s your dream right?”</p>
+<p>A slight burning sensation behind the eyes unsettled Frances. She
+felt a twinge in her chest, and her nose felt a little runny. She did
+her best to swallow it down but the result was just a ball of
+butterflies rustling around in her gut as she stood up from her
+chair.</p>
+<p>“Well, one song can’t hurt to get the party started eh?”</p>
+<p>She bit her tongue and stepped gingerly away from the cafe tables,
+closer to the water’s edge. Her hands trembled oh so slightly, but she
+arrested them behind her back. She took a deep breath to steady herself
+and clumsily cleared her throat.</p>
+<p>Frances parted her lips and allowed the pent-up lyrics, her
+favorites, to spill out.</p>
+<p><em>Sometimes I wonder why I spend</em><br />
+<em>The lonely nights</em><br />
+<em>Dreaming of a song</em><br />
+<em>The melody haunts my reverie</em><br />
+<em>And I am once again with you</em><br />
+<em>When our love was new</em><br />
+<em>And each kiss an inspiration</em></p>
+<p>The words felt strong, familiar, comforting, and warming. As she
+sang, Frances felt her lungs fill with air as if she hadn’t drawn breath
+for days – weeks even. Her chest swelled and she felt compelled to push,
+to show the melody out. She spun on her heels, arms out in the air,
+projecting the sweet verses.</p>
+<p><em>But, that was long ago</em><br />
+<em>Now my consolation</em><br />
+<em>Is in the stardust of a song</em><br />
+<em>Beside the garden wall, when stars are bright</em><br />
+<em>You are in my arms</em><br />
+<em>The nightingale tells his fairy tale</em><br />
+<em>Of paradise where roses grew</em></p>
+<p>Her feet firmly planted, the tremors gone from her fingers, wrists,
+and arms, she belted the words. Each one complemented the last, the beat
+was driving and buttery smooth. Frances felt a tingling on the back of
+her neck, an electric current goading her on and rejuvenating her. Now
+she clutched her arms close together again, softening the attack and
+decay of her voice. She delivered the final verse just as strong, but
+infinitely more earnest.</p>
+<p><em>Though I dream in vain, in my heart it will remain</em><br />
+<em>My stardust melody</em><br />
+<em>The memory of love’s refrain</em><br />
+<em>Though I dream in vain, in my heart it will remain</em><br />
+<em>My stardust melody</em><br />
+<em>The memory of love’s refrain</em></p>
+<p>She was panting now, and looked around under the yellow light of the
+park to see if anyone had heard. She shifted impatiently on her heels,
+and almost automatically, gave a short curtsy.</p>
+<p>Luke ceaselessly clapped his hands together in his chair, so hard
+that it was rocking side to side on its uneven legs. Frances smiled,
+covering her teeth with one hand as he continued his applause with a
+standing ovation.</p>
+<p>“That was amazing, amazing! How did you do that, how did you learn?”
+he babbled on and on, showering her with praise and compliments she felt
+she had little right to.</p>
+<p>“I picked it up here and there. I had a tutor when I was younger,
+too.”</p>
+<p>“I knew it, I knew I had to be in heaven. Only an angel sings like
+that.”</p>
+<p>“You’re too sweet,” she tried to play it down, but if she was being
+honest with herself, Frances couldn’t remember the last time her singing
+was liked, let alone tolerated. It wasn’t the kind of thing an heiress
+in her family did, nor was it the kind of thing a boyfriend approved of
+her getting up on stage to do in front of their friends.</p>
+<p>She felt good. Happy, even.</p>
+<p>“Well, Luke, the party’s started. What shall we do next?” Might as
+well double down, she figured.</p>
+<p>“Let’s look for bumper cars! Vroooom,” he started running around in a
+figure eight again, this time mimicking a steering wheel.</p>
+<p>“Do you really think we can drive ’em?”</p>
+<p>“Well, maybe not, but we could dodge them! Then we can pretend to get
+smashed, boom!” and he kicked backward, tumbling over onto the grass,
+giggling as his cap flew off his head.</p>
+<p>His round face, the cap, and the amber glow of the lights all came
+crashing back onto Frances like wave after wave of shock. Her head felt
+light and her face tingled, leaving a clammy and bloodless sensation.
+She remembered the fuzzy, blind drunk dizzying sensation in her head.
+She remembered instantly the foggy avenue and her dim headlights, the
+lurching sensation as she struggled to maintain control.</p>
+<p>She remembered the boy crossing the street.</p>
+<p>She cupped her hand over her mouth and knelt down in the grass. She
+felt sick, wretched even. Her pitiful end coming back to her in one
+single motion was more than she could hold back, and the tears burned
+their way out of her eyes while she gasped for air. Her sniveling came
+in spurts at first, before her breath hitched and kick-started a train
+of gasps and wails.</p>
+<p>“Oh no, oh Luke–”</p>
+<p>Little Luke stood up from retrieving his cap and, upon seeing Frances
+on the lawn sprinted over to her side. He put a small and on her
+shoulder and sort of patted her the way she had done earlier.</p>
+<p>“Hey, it’s okay, we don’t have to play that game. We can do something
+else.”</p>
+<p>“No, it’s not that,” she gasped, “I just remembered how it happened.
+I’m pretty sure I know what happened to you, too.”</p>
+<p>His eyes widened. She tried to control her heaves for air, and in
+between breaths she managed to get it all out.</p>
+<p>“You were right, I do miss parties. I used to sing at clubs. I’d get
+in the car with my friends, my boyfriend, and we would all go. I wasn’t
+a very happy person. The crowd didn’t always like how I sang, so I would
+sit at the bar for a while. Dance a little, head to the next place and
+do it all over again.</p>
+<p>“Well, one night I was singing. My date, he… Well, he ditched me. He
+didn’t like how I sang either. So I closed the place out – I was really
+sloshed. I got in my car and I started driving fast. Real fast. It was
+foggy, I couldn’t really see. I– I hit a small child. A boy. I don’t
+remember anything after that.”</p>
+<p>Luke’s nose was running as he hiccuped, his eyes turning puffy and
+misty again.</p>
+<p>“Luke, I am so, so sorry. Luke,” she stammered, “I’m the reason
+you’re dead. I’m the reason we’re both here. I killed us.”</p>
+<p>His chest was heaving beneath his suspenders. Frances pulled him in
+close, wrapping her arms around him and gasping for breath.</p>
+<p>He mumbled into the sequined shoulder of her dress, “you mean you
+died in a car crash? All alone? That’s so sad.”</p>
+<p><em>He can’t really be thinking of me. The miserable drunk who runs
+over kids?</em> She pulled away to look squarely in his puffy eyes,
+wiping her nose with her other hand as she did. “Luke, I did that to
+myself. But you didn’t deserve that. You’re a good person.”</p>
+<p>“So are you, you’re my friend. Nobody deserves to die like that.”</p>
+<p>Her chest still ached, tight with exertion and that burning,
+clenching sensation. She smiled anyway, straightening his cap. “Well,”
+she sniffled, “it’s because of me you’re not gonna get to grow a beard.
+I only hope one day I can make it up to you. I’m so sorry for what I
+did. I’ll never forgive myself.”</p>
+<p>“Oh, I forgive you!”</p>
+<p><em>He makes it sound so easy, like he doesn’t get it.</em></p>
+<p>“Luke, I don’t think you understand–”</p>
+<p>“No, really, I forgive you. You didn’t mean to hurt me, I know that.
+You were sad and lonely, you didn’t know what you were doing. But it’s
+okay, friends forgive each other.”</p>
+<p>He dove into her shoulder and embraced her again, his warm arms
+wrapped around her neck tight. She closed her eyes and allowed herself
+to imagine a world where she might have met this little boy walking
+around the city, just passing by. Or darting between her and her friends
+around Coney Island, racing off to the next attraction.</p>
+<p>“Thank you, Luke.”</p>
+<p>He kept his warm arms around her neck, refusing to let go. The warmth
+started to spread, and she could feel a growing radiance from his hands,
+arms, chin, and torso. She opened her eyes and saw she was bathed in
+white light. Not the incandescent strands dotting the park, but a hot
+glow.</p>
+<p>“Luke, look! Let go, Luke!”</p>
+<p>She pushed him away and showed him his hands. The glowed with a
+vibrant intensity, the light climbing up to spread from his fingertips
+up his arms. He gaped, turning his hands this way and that to watch the
+warm beams. Then he took a step back and checked the underside of his
+shoes as if he had stepped in something.</p>
+<p>“Frances!”</p>
+<p>His whole body was enveloped now; he looked like his whole body was
+wreathed in white-hot flame tinged in blue. She stared at him, mouth
+open, a flutter returning to her gut as she clasped her hands together.
+Her breathing had calmed, the heaving in her chest ceased. All she felt
+was Luke’s great subliminal warmth.</p>
+<p>“Luke, what– how do you feel?”</p>
+<p>“I feel great! I feel so warm,” he remarked before licking his lips,
+“and I taste again. And smell again!”</p>
+<p>She didn’t know what to think. Everything she saw defied thinking, no
+rational logic or deduction or assumption could help her understand what
+she was experiencing. But she did feel something, a clinging,
+overwhelming joy she couldn’t shake.</p>
+<p>“Luke, I think you get to go now,” she excitedly exclaimed as she
+took his little hands and shook them.</p>
+<p>“I get to go?! Oh yippee, I get to go, I get to go!” he stamped and
+jumped up and down in place, then quickly faltered. “Wait, what about
+you?”</p>
+<p>It was not lost on Frances that she was the same pale figure without
+sensation that she had been. In her excitement this failed to bother
+her, although now that she reflected on it, she decided she didn’t feel
+that bad about it. She was glad, and confident that someone, somewhere
+had made the right choice.</p>
+<p>“Oh, well, maybe it’s not my time yet. But don’t worry about me, I’ll
+be alright. You’re gonna get to see some amazing things.”</p>
+<p>Despite her reassurance, he protested, “But I wanna see them with
+you. Friends stick together. Besides, they gotta hear your singing in
+heaven, you’d make a beautiful angel.” He paused, screwing his face
+tight in thought again, before exclaiming, “I got it! I forgave you, so
+you gotta forgive me back.”</p>
+<p>“But you haven’t done a single wrong thing to me. You never hurt
+me.”</p>
+<p>“Well, maybe then you gotta forgive you too.”</p>
+<p>No, that wouldn’t do. Maybe Frances did deserve what she got. She
+lived a pretty miserable life, she figured her afterlife ought to meet
+expectations. She tried to assure him again by saying, “Luke, I don’t
+think it can work for me. You should go by yourself. You’re a brave boy,
+you’ll be alright.”</p>
+<p>“But that’ll leave you all alone. I don’t want you to be alone. I’ll
+stay with you,” he half-tripped as he stumbled up to her and wrapped his
+little arms around her tight again, clenching like he had no intention
+of letting go.</p>
+<p><em>Forgive myself.</em> She closed her eyes. He made it sound easy.
+It wasn’t what she deserved. She couldn’t remember forgiving herself for
+much. She blamed herself for how her mother and father felt about her.
+Blamed herself when nobody liked her singing. Blamed herself when every
+boyfriend walked out on her. Heck, now she was guilty of running down a
+child and she was downright positive that was worth blaming herself
+over.</p>
+<p>Luke hugged her tighter, little white and blue wisps floating off of
+his shoulder and streaming up into the air around them.</p>
+<p>He’s a good kid. He’ll be happier once he’s with his people. More
+likely than not, Luna Park’s a whole lot better up there anyway. Maybe
+he could even grow a beard up there without having to be an old man. He
+would understand one day. Some people were just bad and they didn’t get
+to be redeemed, not by a few lousy roller coasters anyways.</p>
+<p>The boy nestled his face into her hip, pushing into her and holding
+on even tighter. The wisps grew stronger now, little blue coronas
+shooting off like sparks from his hat and shoes.</p>
+<p>He’s a good kid. He made it sound so easy. <em>Maybe if he doesn’t
+think I’m so bad, then maybe I’m not so bad.</em> Frances took a deep
+breath again and held it. She put a hand on his cap, distorting and
+flickering the warm light as she did. <em>Maybe I can do it as easily as
+he can.</em> She let her breath back out, allowing a shred of guilt to
+go with it.</p>
+<p>Luke’s warm light sparked and flickered once more. She lifted her
+fingers from his cap to find her index and middle finger radiating a
+white gleam. The blue-tinged fiery luminescence climbed down her
+outstretched hand and flowed up her arm to her heart where an
+all-encompassing heat grew. It spread out through every vein, nerve, and
+pore of her consciousness, like her soul was wrapped in a freshly ironed
+blanked.</p>
+<p>“You did it, you did it!” Luke looked up, beaming from ear to
+ear.</p>
+<p>Suddenly Frances was aware her feet weren’t even touching the ground
+anymore, as she and Luke hovered over a foot off the ground. She smiled
+and laughed, and gestured frantically with her arms, “Luke we did it,
+you did it! How can I ever thank you?”</p>
+<p>“It’s my turn, and tag, you’re it!” And quickly as he could, Luke
+began to doggie paddle through the air, climbing with every stroke such
+that he was now about twenty feet off the ground.</p>
+<p>“Oh no, you don’t, I’m gonna get you!” Frances gave chase, back
+stroking her way out over the river, paying no mind to the height as she
+and Luke climbed far up over the lagoon, past the illuminated tower.</p>
+<p>They took turns, invariably chasing each other through the night sky
+on their journey. They paid no attention to the attractions of the park
+and the returning parade of elephants. No more did they look to take in
+sights of the city’s skyline, or the indigo sky and its first burgundy
+rays of daylight. No living soul saw, or would ever be able to discern
+them from two twinkling bright candles, flickering once again each
+before they vanished together into the starry skies beyond.</p>