Chapter Twenty-two -- Pounding Ceilings

"Karen's alive," I murmured, flinging my body back onto our bed.

"You did it. You changed time. But how?"

"Lower your voice," I said. "I'll tell you how-- I wished it. Don't you remember? I wished that Shackleton never found my family."

"Those weren't your exact words," Sid whispered.

The room was dark; I rolled over and turned on the brass table lamp next to the bed. I sat up, feeling as stiff and old as the knotty pine headboard my back pressed against. 

"Yeah, not my exact words," I said, stretching. "But close. And I thought something like it too-- when we made love."

"Shit. Did that have anything to do with this?"

I reached my hand in the side pocket of my swim trunks, and there was nothing in it. 

I should have known. 

"Fuck-- of course it did. Les said sex was the point of the whole garden experience, not just an after effect.  He was right."

Sid leaned his shoulder into the headboard, facing me. For long moments, neither of us spoke. We just looked at each other, numb and dumbfounded. Then Sid's demeanor changed. His jaws clenched, and he opened his mouth to speak, biting back the words until he could hold it inside no longer. Suddenly he grabbed both my hands, squeezing them so damn hard, I thought he'd break my fingers.

"You have to change it back. You can do that, can't you?" 

No way to ignore his fear's intensity. Shit, mine was plenty intense.

"Slow down," I said to Sid. "We need to think this through. We don't even know exactly what's happened or changed. I don't know if I should or want to change it back."

"But it's not right. This isn't right. I'm not right."

"You look right to me."

"That's not what I mean. Wes, you've changed time. Something in me has changed. I can feel it. I don't like it. And this whole business, changing time-- it's a god-like  thing. You know, 'Hey, I'm Zeus the omnipotent from Mt. Olympus. Watch me wave my hand and snuff out the lives of these pathetic mortals.'"

"First, I don't think I did it by myself; you were part of it. Second, if anyone's god-like it's not my scrawny ass. No way I could ever throw thunderbolts."

"It's not right," he insisted.

He didn't understand. I wasn't sure how to explain. I didn't want to go back to where we were-- that meant going back to Shackleton. Sid had to understand. I spun around, twisting my hands from his and grabbing his shoulders. 

"Think of it. What if you could bring back someone you loved? And you did it? Not intentionally; it just happened. Could you wish them into oblivion?" I looked into him. He had to know how it felt for me, knowing my sister was alive again.

"I understand that," he said slowly, "but what if you're not wishing them into oblivion? What if you're wishing them out of a better place?"

"Like Mt. Olympus?"

"Um, I was thinking more like heaven."

I removed my hands from his shoulders and stared down at my open palms. What we'd done wasn't a conscious choice, but anything we did from this point on would be.

"What about my parents? If Karen's alive..."

"Ok, I'll drop it for now. I'm so tired. And I feel like someone's banging a rock on the side of my head."

"Just one more thing before we try to get some sleep-- what if we did change time again, but we couldn't change it back to the way it was before? You've seen the movies where the person alters time and makes it worse. What if that happened instead?"

My back was gritty from the sand on the beach. As I slid down the headboard, the sand was everywhere. In my suit, on the bedspread, probably under the covers now too. I noticed Sid staring intently across the room, looking into the mirror on the dresser. He could see up my swim trunks.

I yawned, admiring his reflection back-- his handsome five o'clock shadow, the soft light in his hazel eyes dancing as they watched me. I could see his fingers rolling the edge of the pillow case. Then I noticed--

"Sid?" I asked. "What did you do with the serum?"

His eyes dropped.

"I left it on the--"

That was another change. Karen downstairs, no lube in the pocket of my swim trunks and now no serum on the dresser. 

A soft knock came on our door. 

"Shit, what now?" I swore under my breath. "Yes?!"

"It's Glenda."

Our eyes met. Sid nodded. Well, we were in agreement over this at least--

"Come in," I said. 

The trap door opened, and Glenda curiously peeked in at us both. 

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Might as well come in," I said. It occurred to me, and I was sure it occurred to Sid, that she might be the only one we could confide in who wouldn't think we were wacko.  By the way she studied me then Sid, I got the idea she already suspected something was up between us. She just didn't fathom how big. 

Was she in for a surprise.

"Glenda? When did I first meet you?"

She laughed. Then watching the my face intently, she frowned. "What is this about?"

"What if I told you that I-- Sid and I-- changed things?" I could tell by her grin that she didn't get it. "I don't mean between us-- like in, you know, we had sex. Well, we did-- but that wasn't the first time. Shit. What I mean is--" no other way to say this; I took a deep breath. She was gonna think we were crazy. "I mean we changed this as in we altered time."

Glenda lowered herself slowly, sitting on the edge of our bed, unblinking, eyes not leaving either of us. 

"So, you are the one," she said quietly.

"Well-- yeah," said Sid. "He's immortal."

I sat looking at the moon reflecting off the lake. No body spoke. Glenda sat, legs crossed, eyes bright and studying us intently. She rolled her foot in lazy circles as she thought. 

"And in your time, you two were already lovers?" she said finally.

"Yes," Sid answered, his lopsided grin aimed at me. "She's pretty quick."

"What you asked before, when did we first meet-- why did you ask that?"

"Because in our time," I said, "we met because of this man, Shackleton. We wished him away. Well, at least I did. I'm not sure about Sid."

"Well no, you didn't wish him away," she said, sitting forward and uncrossing her legs. "He exists."

"What Wes means is, he wished him from his family's past. Wished Shackleton never found his family. Well, and I admit, I kinda wished the same too considering what he's done to Wes and his family."

"What did he do?"

"He killed them all-- both adopted and real parents. And Karen."

"Fate has a wicked way," she sighed.

"What does that mean?" Sid asked.

Before Glenda answered, I had one of those feelings-- like I didn't want to know what came next, because deep in my gut I knew, but pushed it down. 

"Your adopted parents-- you never got to meet them. They died before your mother told you-- before she couldn't remember anymore."

"Remember anymore?" I repeated.

I felt like I was Alice behind the looking glass. I could begin to see parts of this new time like they were real memories in my mind. Christ, they were real memories in my mind. What a paradox. Two memories, two times.

"She's in a nursing home. She has Alzheimer's. You were forced to put her there after your father died from a stroke last June."

"Fuck." A horrible choice. I could even recall talking to Karen about it. 

"I met you over seven years ago. You moved in with us, Les and me. Your uncle and older brother visit during holidays and in the summer. And as for Shackleton," she said, "he's not part of our lives-- I know of him through my husband. He's like my father-in-law, obsessed with immortals."

"Your husband? You mean Peter Deal?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "He and my father-in-law were partners."

"Partners? Partners how?" Sid asked.

"They found a way to make mortals into immortals, by stealing the roses and taking blood from immortals and making this serum."

"Yes, we know all about that--" I said. Now we were getting somewhere. 

"What I don't get is, if there's no Shackleton, then we wouldn't need to be hiding here in this house. So why are we here?" Sid asked.

"Is that why you were here in the other time? Hiding from Shackleton? Well, in a respect, you are hiding-- just not from him."

"Hiding? From whom?" Sid asked.

She laughed.

"Your fans Wes. You're hiding from fans and cameras. We came here after the last concert for a rest. You needed to relax before playing this coming weekend at the Silverdome--" 

In the corner of my mind, I saw my band on stage staring out at over eighty thousand people in the audience in Pontiac, and I felt the terror-- that I'd forget the words like I did at Riverbend Center or fall off stage like I did in Montreal. I panicked, consumed by stage fright. 

"It's the end of your venue," she added.

I jumped off the bed. Was I remembering this Wes's life or had I dropped a bad hit of acid? 

"Fuck! I can't play the Silverdome! I don't even know the set order! Fuck! I don't even know the songs!"

I was dancing up and down, singing in my brain, trying to remember lyrics. My head throbbed.

"Who am I?" Sid whispered.

I stopped. I was so self involved-- I'd forgotten him, and how he fit in to all this. 

"You're the promotional manager," she answered.

"What?" his face was flushed. I knew how he felt, because I was feeling the same myself. I knew he meant, who am I in a larger sense-- as in: who-am-I-and-how-do-I-fit-into-this-shitty-world kind of sense, not who am I-- as in: what-do-I-do-for-my-livelihood-in-this-shitty-world kind of sense. He pressed the pads of his hands into his forehead, like he wanted to crush all the tortured thoughts jumbling up in there together. Then his palms ran across his forehead, stopping at his temples. Fingers touching the top of his head, he squeezed like a vice. I grabbed his elbow, wishing I could sort these timelines into two separate piles and make his pain go away. 

The serum. This time travel. I worried for Sid. I was immortal, but Sid wasn't yet. What was this doing to him? 

"Sid?" I pulled his hands away from his head and replaced them with mine, my heart pounding like  hard beating bass drum percussion. He was sick. I imagined an invisible line, willing his pain out, pulling it from him to me. His eyes fluttered, and he kissed my cheek. He knew what I was doing.

"We have a lot to sort out," I said. 

He'd be fine for now, but not unless we had the serum. I turned to Glenda. 

"Just one more question before you go. Actually, I know the answer, I just want you to admit it. You brought us here because you knew what could happen in this place, didn't you?"

"I'm not the Glenda you should be asking this question. That Glenda is in another time."

I stood up and walked across the room. Time for her to go--

"I don't think so," I said, lifting the trap door. "I think both Glenda's knew what would happen out on the beach with the serum."

I lowered the trap door as she crept down, watching her Mona Lisa smile.

"Yes, the serum," she answered through the door.

I heard Sid moan as he flopped backwards onto the bed. Downstairs, Karen's voice carried up to our room, "So Sid's spending the night in Wes's room?"

I lay down next to him on the bed face to face. His lips curled a bit. My hand brushed through his hair, curling a sandy lock around my finger and winding it around and around. I pressed my forehead into his, letting his cool forehead and the feel of his silky hair in my fingers comfort us both. I used to twist my own hair when I was five, and I'd forgotten how safe it made me feel. Our eyes met, searching vainly for some understanding inside each other's depths.  

"It's so confusing," he whispered. "A part of me thinks we've never made love." 

The house was still. I was almost afraid to breathe. We both spoke in hushed voices back and forth, as if we were afraid of disturbing time again.

"A part of us hasn't," I answered.

"On the beach, we changed time when we did..."

"And we changed to a time where we weren't lovers yet..."

"But I remember, on the beach, we almost did, and we did. God."

"Sh-h-h," I said quietly. "Let's try to sleep."

I slipped off my bathing suit, and Sid took off his. He climbed under the covers with me, resting his head on my shoulder.

"I feel so tired and beaten-- like I've been awake for days and days--" I said, kissing the top of his head. "If I could only turn my brain off, I might be able to fall asleep."

"You and me both."

"You wouldn't think I could be stupider in another life than the one before, but I guess I was," I said. "There are so many words I haven't said to you in either--"

"We really haven't needed words much lately."

"Still," I said, thinking about not using words again. I could make him come hard in my hand, but then that would be cheating myself and Sid. I should say what I feel. For someone who bares it all on stage, I sure suck at it face to face.

I turned out the light by the bed.

I didn't like the Wesley Grant in this time. Fuck. He'd come here to this house knowing how Sid felt. This Wes went down to the beach, knowing what might happen. Let's take a picnic, run in the sand and yeah, go skinny dipping? Get Sid hot and bothered without any protection or lube? Leave him hard and dry? Did I know what I wanted? I chickened out on the beach. I'd planned on telling him how I felt. Instead I cheated. Fell back on the old excuse, I'll do it later. Always later. Now that was a cheat. I was a cheat and liar to myself. A bigger liar than in my real life-- or was this the real one? Shit. I couldn't believe I was more confused in this time than the other. 

I was more of an ass now, or maybe more of a confused ass. This Wes spent time in the garden all hot and bothered, fantasizing about Sid-- what I wanted him to do to me, what I'd like to do to him, but not facing it until now-- still stuck in the 'I'm not gay' mode. Only now, because I know what it's like to love him and really be with him, now I don't tell him? Still? 

I felt like my head was going to explode, but I bet I didn't feel half as bad as Sid did right now. Christ, ignoring how I felt about him-- I had to tell him. As quiet as he was, I bet he was wondering why he was even with me-- in any time. 

So I swallowed and began--

"You know why I never went to your house? Why I never came over even when the whole band went to your parties?" I didn't wait for an answer. I figured if I was going to do True Confessions, it'd be better to just come out with it all, confessing Wesley Grant's This is Your Life parts one and two. 

"I didn't step inside your door because I was afraid. I figured if I went to your house or was alone with you, I'd do it. I'd tell you how I felt-- or show you. God. I'm so pathetic. All along, all along I thought  about you. What it'd be like to touch, to kiss you. And I was afraid--"

"So you're saying you've been lusting after me as long as I've been lusting after you."

"Longer... try high school." 

"Yeah, so what?" He slipped his arm around my chest, burying his face deeper in my neck. "We're together now. Why kick yourself over what was?"

"Because I'm still not-- Fuck. I suck at this--" I curled into him, his breathing steady, waiting. "You're so damn patient. You waited around, hoping I'd get smart even in this fucking life. I just don't deserve you."

"You think by putting yourself down I'm really going to see what a bargain I got?"

"Shit, I said I sucked at this. How about this--" I turned over, looking straight in his eyes. "I didn't know what it was like to wake up happy until the first morning I woke up with you next to me. And I didn't know how good it felt to smile until I sang you to sleep. And I didn't know what it was to miss hearing you say the words until I didn't have you there to say them to me--"

"You're doing pretty good for sucking at this. Keep going--"

"When I used to think loving someone forever, I thought, well, that was in fairy tales-- it'd never happen-- at least not to me. That day Trent stabbed me, I thought I was going to die never saying that I loved you. When I found out I'd live forever-- I was all hollow until I told you. Why live forever?-- I didn't want to live forever without you knowing. Then when I realized it was possible; you could be with me forever-- I felt selfish for wanting us to be forever. Now, I know without a doubt, it doesn't matter, because I'll love you no matter what. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't want to live forever, not if you don't love me, and I don't love you."  

"That was really good. You didn't suck at all. Now... do you think we could go to sleep?"

"Shit, I just confessed undying love to you, and you want to sleep?"

"Hmm. I was thinking--" he moved his hand lower, down my stomach, "aren't you still a virgin in this timeline?"

I choked. 

"That means I get to deflower you twice..."

"Like right now?" I asked, hopefully.

"Maybe after I get rid of this headache." 

"Still there?" I asked, kissing his cheek.

"Yes, but not like before--" 

"Aren't you the one who told me sex is an excellent cure for headaches?"

"Yeah, but we don't have anything, and I don't want to use spit again."

"We don't have to-- I have coconut suntan oil in this drawer here."

He laughed as I pulled it out of the night stand.

"So that was Wes's little plan in this timeline?"

"Well, yeah--"

"Come here, beautiful..."

---------------------------------------

"Wes, get up."

He was shaking me. Not like Sid at all; he's the kind of person who respects someone who's deep in slumber. I shifted the sheet, and opened one eye. Sid's nose was almost touching mine, and he was frowning.

"Wes, get up," he repeated. "I remember everything. I am your publicity manager!"

"Yeah," I mumbled, "I remember too. I remember you fell asleep last night before you--"

"Hey, we can hear you're both awake. Get your asses down here!"

"Shit, it's Smith," I said. Les was down there with him. It all was in my head: They're here with us along with Karen, Alan and Glenda.

Sid was right, and I did remember, too. I woke remembering and pressing hard on my mind was the serum. Sid was going to need it soon, and I hoped Glenda was the key to get it. If not from who? Maybe Peter Deal? I sure as shit didn't want to go knocking on Shackleton's door.

"Wes? We need to talk. There's something I've got to tell you--"

"Yeah, there's something I need to tell you too--"

Bang, bang, bang on the floor below us along with Smith's voice in falsetto crooning out: 

"Harder, harder! Oh Sid! Yes! Yes! That's the spot. Yes!" 

"Fuck," I said, throwing the sheets back over my head. How could I think how to get the serum with them making that racket? The banging on the floor increased along with Les giggling. 

"This is not going to be a good day," I sighed with resignation and threw the sheet aside. I sat up, turning to Sid. "Might as well get dressed." I got up, trod across the room and opened the dresser. Hmm, I actually had some nice clothes.

"Yeah well, you forget," said Sid, as I surveyed my good fortune. "This isn't my room; my clothes aren't in here."

Boxers. I actually had boxers.

"Put back on those neon green abominations then," I said, pointing to the floor.

Sid hung his head, "Shit-- they're full of sand."

Bang, bang, BANG!

I pulled on my jeans. I supposed I could give Sid a pair of my boxers to wear, but he looked kinda cute in green--

"Will you two quit!" I screamed. 

Must be late morning. The hazy clouds were just burning off the lake, and the sun was bright. Where was a shirt? Then I remembered, bottom drawer. I picked up grey Radio Head shirt. My fingers brushed the grease spot near the neck. I remembered, we were in Coldwater, one of those small town bars with great food, an Italian name, as I recalled, yes, Cascarelli's. We were laughing, listening to Weird Al on the jukebox then I bit into the pizza sauce and like molten lava, it  burned my lip. That's how I got the stain. What was this? This feeling of remembering this Wes's life was odd. Kind of like I was on remote control rewind. 

Fast forward to the now--

"Where's Glenda and the rest of them, anyway?" Sid complained. "They wouldn't be carrying on like this if they were here."

My brain recalled Karen and Alan were going sailing today. But what about Glenda? 

"Wes. What do you remember? Do you remember everything?"

I threw the trap door open, and the racket stopped.

I remembered being scared shitless and ecstatic playing with Failing Upward on this whole tour. Failing Upward had made it. Butane lighters flicker and sway in the waves of people-- all singing the words to my songs. I remembered pretending I didn't want Sid to myself. I remembered Dad dying and the funeral. I remember driving to the nursing home, and Mom thinking I was her brother. I remember--

"Oh look," I heard Smith saying, "the sleeping beauties."

Sid climbed down first with me behind. Both were sitting on the couch, Smith grinning like Sylvester eating Tweetie Bird with yellow tail feathers stickin' out between his lips. Les sat there with a broom in his hand fresh from pounding the ceiling. Fuckers.

Smith took Les's hands in his, and batting his eyes, he blurted out: "Oh Sid? Do you think this means I'm..."

"...queer?" Les squeaked.

"Stop it, you ass holes," I sputtered, turning to Sid. "Doesn't this bother you?"

"They're not making fun of me..." 

Well Hell-- I'll show them all.

I leaned into Sid, mouth open and kissed him, moving my hand around his ass. I knew Smith and Les had a perfect angle. I made sure they got a good look at my tongue action before I snaked my open hand down Sid's ass crack and underneath. Teach Sid for falling asleep last night before properly pulling my petals. My thumb rubbed his ass hole while the tips of my fingers reached under and cupped his balls. Take that.

Sid moaned, and I glanced over at Les and Smith as I pinched one of Sid's nipples with my other hand. I thought their eyes were gonna pop. 

As Sid's hips pushed into mine, I felt his hard, awkward state in that flimsy bathing suit-- poor guy. Therefore, straightening out his situation was just being polite, and reaching my hand down and helping him seemed proper etiquette-- but just as my fingertips brushed the top of his elastic and started creeping in, he grabbed my wrist and whispered, "I think that's enough--"

Sid took one giant step back. 

"Hey," I said. "I'm not done!"

"Don't stop because of us," said Smith. "You know Wes, you might be in the wrong vocation; you'd make a superb gay porn star."

"I'm gonna go get dressed," Sid groaned, running off to his room covering his crotch. 

Shit, he left me the same way. I turned to get something to eat for breakfast. 

"So," I said, "any other plans for the day? Anyone else need harassing?" 

I got out a bowl and then dug through the cupboard and pulled out some Frosted Flakes. Some one ate the last of my Captain Crunch. Probably Smith. I glanced over at them. Ha. Both sat flabbergasted on the couch. I opened the fridge and poured the milk, not too much, I hate soggy cereal. Then I went out to the living room and sat next to them, legs crossed, Buddha style, putting the bowl in my lap. Then without another word to either one of them, shoveled in the cereal. 

I was and wasn't ignoring them. I needed to think. When Sid grabbed my wrist a moment ago, everything was clear. Those thorns were still under my skin; Sid was still bound to me. Sid was going to be desperate for more serum soon. I knew the calling-- like some addiction. I wanted the roses even now. While I found a poor substitute for the roses in the serum, I knew for Sid it didn't work the same way. 

He needed the serum not the roses. 

Maybe the roses would never call to him, but the need for the serum would. I feared the ache would be the same-- maybe worse. After all, he was bound to me. What would that do to him? God, I wanted him all the time. Even now Sid was under my skin like the roses. I itched for them both. I was prepared to fuck him through the hardwood floor in front of Les and Smith moments before. I should be embarrassed, but instead I got hotter thinking of it as they both stared at me like I was some alien being.

"So you think you can just sit there and not say anything about what just happened?" Smith asked.

"And what did just happen?"

The sliding doors scraped, and there stood Karen, sunburned, her shoulders and nose peeling. She was grinning at me as she threw her towel on the chair by the door.

"Sailing good this morning?" Les asked.

"Yes, perfect breeze. You should really come out with us before we leave. You too Wes."

"I will," I said. "I'd love to." Setting the bowl of cereal aside, I stood up on shaky legs. I could do this, pretend seeing her was just an every day thing. Alan came in behind with the orange life jackets. I consciously stepped closer to her. It was reflex, gathering her into my arms and hugging her  close. She smelled like Coppertone, cream rinse and lake spray. I touched her hair to make sure she was real, then I kissed her forehead. 

I thought my heart could stand pain. All hurts would heal. But I knew the moment I kissed her forehead, this was one pain that would never go away. My Karen. My sister, was sick. Very sick. And she knew that she couldn't keep it a secret from me although she'd tried once before. 

"When were you going to tell me?" I sighed. 

I began crying. All I could think of was myself and that I was loosing my sister all over again. Not her pain. I felt more of a jerk. Remission gone and more chemotherapy. Suddenly I knew what this little trip to the beach was about for my sister. Memories. A chance to be together.

Maybe my little trip in time was the same.

This was a gift. And I wasn't going to waste it. Of course I'd go for a ride in the boat. I should have gone on the beach last night and played the guitar for her when she asked. 

Sid walked in. I could hear him behind me. Shit, I realized, he already knew. He said he remembered everything this morning. He remembered Karen had leukemia. He tried to tell me. Even in this life, I pushed out the bad. 

"I was going to tell you," she said. "I promise. But it never seemed like the right time. Last night, when you acted so strange. I knew you realized that the leukemia was back."

"What are you doing Karen, protecting me. I'm the one who needs to support you. I love you."

She hugged me tighter, looking over my shoulder at Sid.

"Why do you smell like coconuts?" she laughed knowingly, then whispered in my ear. "You told him. " 

From the corner of my eye, I saw her smile at Sid.