A Magic Carpet Ride (209)

[PSI-1]

Flying over San Rosille by night, at a safe altitude to avoid detection, was like being caught between two blankets of stars. SoHo had a combination of gas and electric lighting, and downtown was mostly electric, but neither was enough to bleach the magic out of the sky. Everything twinkled. Threads of fog blew through them like half-forgotten dreams. The wind rattled their clothing like sails, but the Farsian rug beneath them remained as stiff and solid as if it were resting on the floor.

Cerise sneezed and covered her nose and mouth with a hanky. “I ought to have a bomber jacket! It is freezing, Annie!”

“I’m so sorry, angel!” Ann yelled back. She was sitting right next to her, but they still had to yell. “The spell Milo copied wasn’t meant for this sort of thing! He didn’t have time to fix it any better! Would you like some more coffee?”

“The wind got the thermos away from us ages ago!” Cerise said. “We should have taken the bus!”

“What?”

“THE BUS!”

“It’s just his window’s on the third floor and Milo didn’t want anyone to make noise or fall,” Ann muttered. “Also he really loves Tiffie’s carpet, there is that.”

“What?”

“I just said I’m sorry, angel!”

Cerise flung a gesture. “I understand why Hyacinth is along, but what’s he doing here?”

“Throwing up in a paper bag.” You couldn’t hear him, but Sean had basically never stopped throwing up in the paper bag, except to refuse all offers to land and let him go the rest of the way in a taxi. “Are you kidding me?” he’d said. “Turn down a literal magic carpet ride? I must be empty by now!” …Except he wasn’t quite yet.

“No, not him.” Cerise pointed straight down.

Ann sighed. “Cerise, John is a boy. We’re already about to scare the hell out of him, maybe if we have a couple of boys along — er, boys who look like boys — he’ll be a little less terrified, that’s all.”

“But why that boy?” cried Cerise.

Pierre’s blue head popped up from under the carpet, with a wild grin and his hair blowing over his face. “This is amazing! Milo is a genius!”

“He knows magic and he was willing to ride upside down,” Ann said.

“I’m the Wicked Witch of the West!” Pierre shrieked, unseen.

Hyacinth crawled to the edge of the rug and put her head over the side. “I’m the Wicked Witch of the West, you can be a monkey! Are you hearing me, Pierre?”

“Let’s just drop a house on both of them,” Cerise said with a smile.

“I think I’m all done throwing up now!” Sean said. “Is there any coffee left?”

———

Ann told Cerise and Sean to wait in the alley and helped Pierre around to the top side. “He knows Cin and I, and Pierre can help with the magic if we need it. You two just stay out of sight and keep an eye out for the police.”

Erik knew which window it was and he drew it for them, so there was a fifty-percent chance he’d put it on the correct side of the house. It was definitely not one of the two at the top middle, John’s mother slept behind those. All the windows were dark. The largest and lowest had a sign under the painted elephant, indicating that Herald Street News would reopen at 5AM.

“We are going to be talking to children,” Ann reminded her co-conspirators. “No matter whose room we get. John and Tom share a room, Tom is twelve, and little Jenny is eight. Be nice, and don’t get them so scared or excited that they wake their mother. We are nice people who just happen to be riding a flying carpet. Right?”

“I’m the Wicked Witch of the West,” Hyacinth and Pierre said on top of each other. Pierre snapped the strap of Hyacinth’s goggles and she shoved him playfully.

Ann sighed. “Well, for heaven’s sake, don’t advertise it or we’ll never be able to kidnap our victim. And stop that fighting! We promised Em and Erik their rug back in one piece.” She tugged on the edge of the carpet and directed it silently upwards.

The windows had decorative shutters, a gridwork of square panes, and a hook-shaped latch in the middle. Ann tapped on the glass with just two knuckles. “Hello? Is anyone in there? It’s Ann. Hello? I’m sorry to wake you. Do you mind? Hello…?”

A small brown hand flipped up the latch and drew the curtain aside.

Jennifer Green-Tara’s pinched and sleepy face appeared in the lower half of the window. The dark brown eyes went round. Ann saw Jenny’s mouth go, You can fly? but no sound came out. The girl gasped and clutched both hands to her throat.

Ann snapped her head around like a horror movie effect and hissed, “Pierre, you take that silence spell off Jenny this instant! Put it on the wall!”

“It won’t…” he said.

“We don’t care!”

Ann pushed open the window and smoothed back Jenny’s hair. “We’re sorry, sweetheart. My friend is an idiot. We didn’t want to wake your mother, but that was a mean thing to do. You’re all right now. Are you all right?”

“Are you guys a dream?” Jenny said.

“No, honey. We wanted to surprise your brother, but we weren’t sure about the window. Erik said he’s been feeling a bit sad.”

Jenny indicated Pierre with a pointed finger, “Is that a new boy for Johnny?”

“Is Johnny a girl?” Pierre replied.

Ann swatted his shoulder. She smiled at Jenny. “He’s just a friend. He works at the same super fun place I do. We’d like to take Johnny there, but your mother wouldn’t like it so we’re trying to sneak him. Will you help us?”

“Can I come too?”

Ann shook her head. “Not yet. You have to be eighteen with an ID, and your big brother has a driver’s license, so he can go there and tell you all about it tomorrow.” She leaned in and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “When your mom isn’t looking.”

Jenny snickered. “But he just wants to stay home and eat ice cream.”

“That usually works,” Hyacinth put in. “Except your brother’s gay…”

Now Ann swatted Hyacinth. “Honestly!”

“What? She thought Pierre was a boyfriend!”

“No she didn’t. Oh, my gods!”

“What’s ‘gay’?” Jenny said.

Ann sighed and smiled bravely. “It’s a hard thing to explain and we don’t have a lot of time tonight. Please don’t ask Johnny about it because we’re trying to cheer him up and we don’t want to make him do hard stuff. We’ll go get sodas sometime soon and I’ll help him talk to you about it. Tom too, if he wants. But for right now, don’t ask John and please especially don’t ask your mother, because you could get John in a lot of trouble.”

Jenny frowned. “Is it something bad?”

“No, dear. It’s not bad at all. It’s another way for a person to be, like you have beautiful brown eyes, except it’s on the inside, so no one knows unless you tell them. Some people don’t like it, so it’s best to hide it, unless you’re really sure someone will be okay about it.”

“Like Erik can’t just tell everyone he has brain tentacles?”

“Erik has what?” Pierre said.

“Later,” said Hyacinth.

Ann blinked. “I, um, I never thought about it like that but… Sort of. Yes. You can’t tell your mom about that either, right?”

“No, she’d flip out.”

Ann nodded. “It’s like that. John can have all the ice cream he wants, but we want to make sure he knows there are a lot of people who’d love him for who he is, and he doesn’t have to hide all the time. Will you help us? Please?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Jenny said. “You want to come in?”

“No, dear. I think we’d better meet you at the other window. Thanks.”

———

There was a sound of shuffling and muffled voices. The light behind the sheer curtain came on, and one voice approached, growing louder: “Okay, Jen. Okay. Just to be sure. But I promise you, there’s not…”

John pulled back the curtain and stared at the three people, hovering at eye-level outside his third-storey window, on a flying rug. “Oh, my gods,” he said, still muffled by the glass.

“I told you!” said Jenny’s voice, even fainter.

Tom pushed his brother aside and claimed a corner of the window. “Whoa.”

Ann beamed like a game show contestant and waved at them. “Hello, dears. Can we just talk for a few minutes?” She mimed unlatching the window.

John urgently pushed it open. “What’s going on? Are you…” He regarded the carpet and looked pained. “Are you trying to get away from someone, is that it?”

“No, we’re trying to get you away from someone,” Hyacinth said.

“What?”

Pierre conjured a burst of gold glitter. “Surprise! It’s a molly party! Happy gay birthday!”

“What?”

“I’m a jenny,” said Hyacinth. She turned to Pierre. “Are they still saying it that way? Jennies? Not like John’s sister, like that old-timey pickpocket who wore men’s things and got hung, but she lived. Half-Hung Havener? It was something like that, anyway. We liked her. We were irritated because molly houses weren’t for girls. Are you a jenny?”

Pierre turned up his nose. “I’m not a girl. I’m a molly or nothing. Go ask Cerise if she wants to be an awful old pickpocket.”

“I’m sorry,” said Hyacinth. “I don’t really do the culture anymore. I must sound like somebody’s racist grandma, but it’s not on purpose.”

John had both his hands clamped over Tom’s ears. “Why are you hovering outside my window and talking about gay people?” he hissed. “Go… Go bother a gay person! Go away!”

“Aren’t you gay?” Jenny’s voice said.

John stared at her and went three shades paler. “Wh…” He turned back to the window, furious. “Why…?”

Ann winced and put up both her hands, surrendering. “It wasn’t on purpose. I promise it wasn’t. She sounded like she already knew and Hyacinth doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. We only wanted to take you out for the night and cheer you up…”

“You’re going to out me to my whole family to cheer me up? You want me to bring Mom in here? I’ll be homeless by morning! That’s super cheerful!”

“You can come and wash dishes at the Black Orchid!” Pierre said brightly. He frowned. “You’re not a dancer or anything, are you?”

“Go away!” He slammed the window and turned away, but he forgot to latch it, so it just bounced back open again.

Ann reached in and drew the curtain aside. “John, we’re all very sorry. I promise we’re going to help clean this up with your brother and sister. I’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll all go to lunch somewhere and talk about it, if you want. Hyacinth will pay for it.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make any of this okay.” She smiled. “But they’re sweet kids, and they love you, and they’ve already kept Erik’s secret about the tentacles very well. I’m positive they’re not going to get you in trouble about this. We screwed up, and if you just want us to go right now, we will. But this is going to be okay. And we’re not going to… I don’t know. Abandon you and make you do all this alone, I guess.”

John turned back around. “Please, please abandon me,” he said.

Ann nodded. “We’re sorry.”

Jenny tugged on his pajama shirt. “They said they’d take you somewhere fun with a lot of people who love you so you don’t have to hide. Maybe you can find a new boy like Rob to have fun with. I think you should go. We won’t tell Mom.”

“Jen, I’m mad at them and I’m not going to have any fun.”

“Then stop being mad,” she said.

———

Jenny craned her head out the window beside her brother Tommy and watched as Johnny departed on the flying carpet with the magic people. It rounded the corner of the building and then she couldn’t see it anymore.

“Hey, Tommy, would you still love Johnny if he had tentacles?”

“Huh?”

She folded her hands and rested her cheek against the windowsill. “I would too.”

———

John jumped lightly off the carpet, onto the cobbled surface of the alley. “Thank you. I…”

“Hi!” said the fair-haired man in the fashionable suit. “I’m Sean and this is Cerise!” He gestured to a tall colored woman, although it was hard to tell which color in the dim light. “We’re…”

John put up a hand. “I am not going with you. If you want to be nice, you can spot me the cab fare, but there’s an all-night arcade where I can hang out for a few hours. This is just to make Jenny happy. I do not want to go to a molly house.”

Cerise pouted. “It is not a molly house. Exactly. Anymore.”

“I don’t care. You people told my whole family I’m gay and I am not going to stop being mad.” He began to walk away.

“Oh, Annie,” Sean said.

Ann jumped down. “I didn’t do it!”

“Brain damage,” Hyacinth said. “I have brain damage.”

“You are brain damage!” Ann snapped.

Sean dashed after John and touched his arm. “Listen. That was an awful thing for them to do. It’s inexcusable. But you must realize, they were probably going to figure it out anyway. My mother…”

“Your mother?” John cried.

“His mother doesn’t know!” Ann said. “Nobody tell his mother!” She clamped both hands over her mouth and went quiet. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“My mom already knew, I mean,” Sean said. “Ages before I was ready to tell her. Um. How are they taking it?”

“They are twelve and eight and they have no idea what ‘it’ is. They just wanted me to go out because they know I’m unhappy. They think Rob and me stopped being friends for some reason. But now I’m going to have to explain!”

“Well, thank goodness they’re still too young to demand all the gory details.” Sean laughed airily, but when that failed to land he made serious again. “Sometimes the people who love us are a lot better than we imagine they are.”

“And sometimes they’re a lot worse,” Cerise said, behind them. “Sometimes they just love some fake person they think we are, and when we shatter their illusions, they don’t want us anymore. Then we have to scrape together some kind of living on the streets or die. Hyacinth, I wish I could say I wasn’t surprised, but I am. What the hell were you thinking? Your parents threw you out too.”

“The phrasing was ambiguous!” said Hyacinth.

Cerise sighed. “I would say she ought to go back up there and tell everyone she’s a mental defective and she made a mistake, but you can’t unring a bell.” She put a manicured hand on his back. “Are you going to be all right? Seriously now.”

He hung his head. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, is it safe for us to let you go home tonight?”

He looked back up at the bedrooms on the third floor. “I never know that. That’s why Rob and I broke up.”

———

The carpet remained at an easy three feet off the ground. John sat on the edge with his legs dangling, staring at his shoes. Tom and Jenny made him wear his good shoes. And a tie.

He put his hand in his back pocket and drew out a slender stack of business-sized cards. “Do you guys have these? Do you want some? I’ve got Three-Point-One, we added another number.”

“What are you selling?” Cerise asked. She politely took one, but instead of offering some kind of service with an address or phone number, it was nothing but a list of first names and phone numbers. Both sides. And a small note in a box that said ‘V3.1’.

“Not selling,” John said. “I guess I know a guy who makes cigarette lighters that sound like the police, but he’s not selling those either…”

Hyacinth held up the card from her purse. “This is a bunch of people who have a phone and are willing to rescue you if you call for help. They’re mostly gay and colored, so they’re calling it the Rainbow Alliance.”

Cerise snorted and covered it with a hanky.

John winced. “Rob came up with it. I can’t stand it. It’s just embarrassing. But I didn’t want to tell him and we don’t have another name for it.”

“I love rainbows!” Sean said. He took a card. “And unicorns! Can I be a unicorn?”

“Unicorns are different,” Hyacinth said. She frowned. “Unless we’re not calling them that now. Anyway, I don’t think they exist.”

“Damn it, I don’t have my own phone,” Cerise said. She scowled. “And the front desk won’t let just anyone in. They barely let me in.”

“I wish we had one, but we don’t even have wires,” Ann said. “We need a little sign or something that says it’s okay to hide in our house, I suppose, if you happen to be walking by…”

“That’s a lovely idea for the phoneless,” Sean said, examining the card. “Shall I see what the art department at the Slaughterhouse can put together…?”

“I have a phone!” Pierre said. “Can I just add my name?”

“Yes, but call it ‘Vee Three-Point-Two’ and let me have your number for the master list. Those top four names there are the founding members. If you have a new number, or I guess if you’re going to start putting up little signs, call one of us. I’ll call Billie and let her know about 3.2.” He shook his head, pained. “She can call Rob.”

Pierre winced. “Ooh. Awkward. Yikes.”

“He said we could still be friends.” He looked up at them. “Do you get how stupid that is, or am I out of my mind? I’m either going to get updates on who he’s dating — and I can’t handle that! — or he’s going to specifically exclude me from updates on who he’s dating and that’s not friends. You get that, right?”

He saw nodding from all parties concerned.

“Right!” he went on. He held up a card. “But I’m still going to see him all the time anyway, because we’re doing this and we don’t want anyone to die! Gods, it’s like we were married and we still need to see each other because we’ve got kids.” He pocketed the cards and folded his arms in a sulk. “Tom and Jenny really like him too. And he’s cute. He does this thing with his hair.” He tossed his head and combed the right side back over his ear, demonstrating. “He smells like coconut oil conditioner and black licorice and I do not like black licorice — but I was getting used to it!” he declared. “I was willing to convert, you guys!”

He fell silent again and stared at his good shoes.

“So what happened?” Hyacinth said.

Ann gave her a light shove, but John didn’t notice.

“He said I don’t want a boyfriend, I want plausible deniability. He said he understands, but he wants a boyfriend.”

Sean clutched a hand to his chest. “Gods, when they say they still like you, that’s just an extra twist to the knife, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. The only other guy I ever broke up with is, like, evil.”

Cerise sat on the carpet. “Abusive?”

“No, like, literally evil and he started his own alliance of evil people and I must defeat him because it’s my…” He straightened and stared into the distance, continuing without pause, “Holy gods, how is this my life now?” He looked down. “I’m on a flying carpet.”

Hyacinth sat on the other side of him. “I’m not sure what you were going to say before reality caught up with you, but it’s not your responsibility or your fault. What that other kid decided to do. You made your own choices, better ones, and you paid your dues. I don’t think the Vitts are going anywhere anyway, they’re not even a real gang.”

“I don’t have a real gang either.”

“You don’t need a gang,” Sean said.

“Piss off, I want to be in a gang,” Pierre said. “Gangsters are cool!” He lifted one hand as if arranging a marquee. “The Rainbow Gang! Shit, that’s rubbish. That’s even worse.” He laughed.

Sean regarded him with a frown. “As I was saying: You don’t need a gang. You already have a tribe. A people. That’s much better. Why… You have a literal molly card!”

“I’m not…” John shook his head. “I don’t know what you are, but I’m not that. I’m just… I’m a normal boy who likes boys.”

“Mollies are those men who wear dresses and fairy wings and throw glitter everywhere and scream, aren’t they?” Sean said.

John nodded slowly, as it seemed like it might not be okay to do so. Ann was one of those men who wore dresses and she was standing right there.

Pierre conjured some more glitter and a pair of fairy wings. “Oh, I thay,” he thaid.

Hyacinth indicated him with both hands, “You see, this is why we wanted our own word for us! I’m not that either!”

“I think we’ve decided lesbians are a kind of molly,” Sean said. “I’m sorry, Hyacinth. It’s a bit sexist, but we’re trying to be inclusive. We’d like a word for everyone and it seems like molly is the first one, historically-speaking.”

“That’s because no one was calling us anything,” Hyacinth said. “Hysterical, maybe.”

“Hyacinth, I’m not the one making these decisions, why don’t you write to the Rainbow Alliance?”

John groaned and dropped his head in his hands.

“That was cruel of me, I’m sorry,” Sean said. “What I’m trying to say is, ‘molly’ is like an umbrella. I’m still me, and you’re still you, and the screaming queens are screaming queens — but that’s who they want to be. We don’t have to be the same. Under the umbrella, we all find our own cliques…” He leaned in, “Just a hint from one boy who likes boys to another, we’re a very cliquey people. Maybe too cliquey.”

“Clicky?”

“But we badly need one word that means all of us because we’re all in this together and we should help each other out.” Sean smiled. “Most of the time we do. Like those cards, that really is brilliant. But we didn’t even know about that, so this isn’t like a thank you. We just heard you were having a hard time, and we’ve all had hard times, so we wanted to help out. We wanted you to know you’re not alone.” He waved a hand. “I will grant you, some of us are incompetent, but that’s not on purpose. If we’ve hurt you, we’re going to do our best to fix the damage we’ve done. So think about it and give me an honest answer: Are you going to be okay?”

John sighed. “Yes, but not right now.”

“That’s reasonable!” Sean patted him. “Would you like to go feel like shit with a whole bunch of fun people and a full bar?”

Ann lifted a finger, “He can’t drink at the bar, but he has to have two glasses of wine with dinner.”

“I’ve already had dinner!” John cried. “Damn it. I was in my pajamas!” He put his face in his hands and began to laugh. “Oh, gods, it’s not hamburgers, is it?”

Ann, Cerise and Pierre chorused, “Chicken, steak or fish with rice or potato and seasonal vegetable!”

“What about just coffee?” Cerise added. “I think you can have coffee for dinner. Legally. Like a frigged-up demitasse, if you’d rather.”

“A cup of coffee and two glasses of wine?”

Cerise laughed. “However much coffee you want and two glasses of wine, is that any better? You just can’t mix them up together because you’re not allowed mixed drinks!”

“I think I’d rather have the chicken,” John said.

Pierre, still in fairy mode, covered the whole company in a blanket of gold glitter, “And tho you thall!”

———

“John, honey?” Ann nudged him. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“I cannot believe he fell asleep, my nose is going to freeze off.” Cerise honked politely into her handkerchief.

“Oh, but it’s much cheaper than cab fare, isn’t it?” Sean said. He stroked the threadbare carpet. “I want one! Just for late nights so I won’t get arrested, you understand.”

“I can’t believe they figured out how to close the window without latching it,” Ann said with a smile. “Did you see this cute little note? I’m just going to save it for him so his mother doesn’t see it in the morning.”

It had been done on the blank back of a handwritten receipt. The total was Ç1.25, for chips, a soda and a newspaper. The note itself was in Tom’s neat printing: Dear Magical People, just push the window to open it, Jenny closed it with a sticker. Thank you for taking our big brother out. If he’s too tired to do the papers in the morning, we’ll tell Mom he made himself sick with all the ice cream. Love, Tom + Jenny. A second sticker, heart-shaped, had been used to affix it to the glass.

“Huh? What’s going on?” John said.

“We’re back. You fell asleep. Just be careful and don’t fall.” Ann offered him a hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch him!” Pierre put in from the underside of the rug.

“Quiet, monkey!” Hyacinth hissed. She was down there too.

“I know how to do silence spells and you don’t. I’m the witch.”

“You’re not even a girl!”

“My gods, you are racist and sexist, Grandma!”

There were sounds of a scuffle and light slapping, but gravity was reversed down there so it was impossible for them to push each other off. They’d fall up and then down to the rug again. If John fell he’d wind up on the other side of the rug too, but he’d hit his head on the building. Ann carefully guided him past the windowsill. “Okay?”

He nodded blearily.

She kissed the top of his head. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll stop by tomorrow and check on you.” She snickered. “In the afternoon. Don’t worry, I won’t bring Hyacinth.”

“I get what happened but Mom hates her anyway. And she sure can’t sing.”

She smiled. “Did you have fun?”

He nodded.

“Yay,” she whispered. “Now get some sleep!” She closed the window as best she was able and took the carpet straight up like an elevator. When she judged the distance far enough to allow for normal talking, she stopped and put her head over the side. “All right, you two, does one of you want to ride on top, or would you rather land and take taxis home like sensible people?”

“We want to fly on a magic carpet like cheap people,” Hyacinth replied. “Pierre, you want a turn on top?”

“What are you, brain damaged or something?” He waved her away.

“Sexist,” she replied. She stood at the edge of the carpet, put out a foot and shifted her weight forward to do the ‘falling up’ thing. Her foot touched the top side of the carpet. Though she wobbled for a moment and pinwheeled both arms, she felt she recovered quite suavely. “Gods, that’s fun. I wish there was some excuse to do that to the house!”

Ann touched a hand to her head. “Don’t encourage Milo, but I think he’s too distracted by Calliope’s art project to bother.” She clapped her hands for attention. “Does anyone want a taxi? Cerise? It’s all right, angel, we know you’re cold. No one’s going to judge.”

“I’m judging you down here!” Pierre hollered. “Satan says you’re a wet blanket, ‘angel’!”

“It’s no wonder you two get along,” Cerise said to Hyacinth.

Hyacinth shrugged. “He reminds me of a guy I knew. You too, but Pierre treats me like Barnaby and you treat me like, well, me.”

“Dear?” Ann said.

Cerise adjusted her suit jacket. She’d had to leave the wig and dress with her costumes at the club. “I am also going to ride the carpet like a cheap person. I hate for people to see me in public like this anyway. It’s just for the front desk. And that voice I have to do.” She lowered it an octave and sucked all the artistry and joy out of it, “‘Hey, Frank. Boy, howdy, I hate the night shift. You workin’ hard or hardly workin’? Ha!’” She snapped out of it with a shudder. “I mean, my gods, I sound like my father.”

Sean patted her. “You’re doing a character. I think we all do that sometimes.” He laughed. “Or maybe most of the time, some of us. To taste. Maybe John doesn’t have one quite yet, but he’s working on it.”

“He’s just a baby,” Hyacinth said. “Do you still say it like that or am I being patronizing? ‘Baby gays’? Like the cotton swab?”

“Oh, yes, I’m a baby too,” Sean said.

Cerise elbowed him gently. “No, you’re not. The real babies are giving each other cards to keep each other alive and you didn’t have one yet. Welcome to Gay Adult. Please turn in your flavored contraceptive charms.”

Sean’s expression fell. “What? I wanted to grow up and be a leather daddy… Oh, gods, am I going to be a twink?”

Ann burst out laughing. Cerise and Hyacinth soon followed.

“Oh, fine, it’s funny for you! Lesbians don’t have types…”

“Not true, you’re just not paying attention,” Hyacinth said.

“…and I don’t even know what Ann and Milo are, besides a molly. They have no expectations!”

“Also not true,” Ann said demurely.

“He’s sort of a backward gay adolescent,” Cerise decided.

Sean brightened. “Oh, I like that. I prefer that. I’ll take that!” He smiled. “Will you fly me home, Moms?”

Pierre’s apartment was closest to downtown, actually. Then Cerise’s rooming house. Sean gave hugs before stepping off at the front door of his cold water brownstone. He took a moment to speak in Ann’s ear, “Are you all right, darling? You’ve been so quiet tonight. You didn’t even do a song, and they were letting everyone.”

She snickered. “It was John’s night. I didn’t want to upstage him. Anyway, Milo is learning to talk now and I’m trying to feel my way around standing back and letting other people talk sometimes.”

“Like letting Milo talk sometimes?”

“Maybe.”

“Not like letting Hyacinth eject a poor eighteen-year-old boy from the closet?”

“Be patient with me, it’s a work in progress.”

He hugged her again and waved before closing the door.

“Shall we head home, Wicked Witch?”

Hyacinth shrugged. “The bars are all closed.”

Ann directed the carpet higher.

“What was that thing called?” Hyacinth said. “‘Carrie Oakley’?”

“I don’t know, but it’s awful. I suppose we must have something to entertain people in an emergency, but not on purpose like that, every Woden’s Day from ten to closing. It must be Harry’s idea. He’s out of his mind.”

“You’re just mad because you’re a singer.”

“Hyacinth, that was the worst rendition of ‘Does Your Mother Know?’ that I have ever heard in my life!” She caught herself and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, but very sincere. Did you pick that out for him?”

“No, he picked it himself. Kid has a sense of humor. He’s gonna need it.”

“I hope he’s all right.”

———

Tom paired the shoes in the closet and stuffed the tie in the underwear drawer. “Tuck him in so she can’t tell it’s not pajamas,” he whispered.

Jenny did so and secured the blanket around his shoulders. “What were they doing all night?”

“I dunno, but he smells like booze and coffee, so keep Mom out of here.”

The bedroom door popped open, bathing both children in yellow light from the hall.

“Hi!” Tom said brightly.

“What are you two doing? Jenny, big brother doesn’t feel well. Come help me with the papers and leave him alone. Tommy, put your clothes on, for heaven’s sakes, it’s already four o’clock.”

“Okay, Mom!” both said.

Jenny left with her mother and Tom urgently sought out a pair of pants.

“He’s not having any more ice cream,” Gita Green-Tara told her daughter. “It’s silly. It was just a fight. Boys are always fighting. He’ll feel better soon and they’ll make up. You’ll see.”

In the dark bedroom, John rolled over, pulled the blanket over his head and muttered against his pillow.

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Tom snapped. “Go back to sleep.” With a hand on the door he paused and looked back, irritated, “And she’s your mother too, you know.”