Page 10 of Ghost

“Like my own parents,” he said quietly.

“Tell me about them,” I gently urged.

“I don’t know anything about them. Don’t know who they are, if they’re alive. If they ever cared anything about me. Maybe my father doesn’t know anything about me like I didn’t know about Dani. But my mother did. She would have to. She walked away.”

“Tell me about your childhood. Who raised you?”

Dante took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Have you ever heard of the Trick Pony, Doc?”

Dante didn’t look at me. He was still watching his daughter, and I was thankful. If he had, he would have seen my reaction. I had heard of the Trick Pony. I knew it was a club in Miami, Florida. Rumors said it was more than that. The rumors of what happened to men, women, and children there were enough to give you nightmares. And they were only the rumors.

I was afraid Dante was about to confirm those rumors.

“I have.”

It was all I could say. I waited for him to continue. By the time he was done telling me about how he had been born there, how he had been taken out of there by four boys and a girl. All in their teens. All raised in the Trick Pony. My own childhood trauma paled in comparison.

I knew it wasn’t a competition. All trauma shaped us into who we were today. But after hearing Dante’s story, I was in awe that he was as well-rounded as he appeared.

“Is it possible one of the young men who pulled you from there could be your father?”

“No. I checked. When I was thirteen, I did one of those at home paternity tests. I knew none of us were related by blood.”

“What about the girl?”

“I’ve never met her. I only know what Silas has told me about her. I was a baby when we left, so I don’t have any memories of that time.”

The way he saidthat timesparked a question I was afraid to ask. But one I would need the answer to in order to help Dante process his trauma.

“Was there another time at the Trick Pony you have memories from?”

He nodded silently as he focused on Dani.

I looked over at her. And asked another question I knew the answer to but needed to hear from him.

“Was Dani a product of the Trick Pony?”

He nodded again.

“Dante, when I was in college I took a trip to New York. I sat in a lecture under Dr. Gideon Scott. He spoke a little about the rumors surrounding the Trick Pony and how the experiences that people had there could shape their lives. Consensual and nonconsensual experiences.”

Dante stiffened when I mentioned Dr. Scott.

“The lecture he gave impacted my life in a way that I never expected. It was why I chose a career working with children of sexual assault. Would you share with me your experience at the Trick Pony? There is no judgment here, Dante.”

“As I said, I was a baby when we left,” he began. His voice devoid of all emotion. Like he was reciting a passage by rote. “Nightmares don’t begin to describe what I’d heard of the place. Knowing I was born there only made me curious. I should have left it alone. They say curiosity killed the cat. It almost killed me. I had just finished my undergraduate program at Texas A&M and transferred to MIT to take part in a new program when it happened. I was so happy to be accepted into the study, I celebrated and partied like any young man with no care in the world. Thanks to my brother and the others, I lived a charmed life. I had everything I wanted. All the advantages life could afford. I didn’t realize how blessed I was until I woke up after a night of drinking to find myself in that horrible place.”

Dante stood and walked over to where Dani played quietly. He didn’t pick her up, he just sat by her. Like he needed her close by while he told me what happened.

“I wasn’t there very long, but long enough to realize the world I once lived in was just a mirage of reality because the truth was, the world is a fucking horrible place.”

I sat quietly while Dante spoke. I didn’t interrupt with questions. I didn’t want to stem the flow of release he needed. His hands trembled, and I suspected that was why he didn’t reach out for his daughter.

Suddenly, he looked over at me. “Doc, the things I am about to tell you. They’re bad.” He walked back over to where I sat, and I waited for him to decide how much to share.

“You can share as much or as little as you feel you need to. There is no judgment here.”

---