Page 73 of You Can Make Me
I’d recognize that smile anywhere or anytime. He couldn’t have been much over eighteen, if that. He lifted his foot again to step through the gate, but a man in a black coat and top hat blocked his path. He put his arm around the young Cooper and turned him away from the beckoning beauties in their barely there costumes. The man in the hat smiled, but it was sad. His irises swirled, changing colors in a mesmerizing pattern.
“You may not enter, my young friend. Someday, you will understand. This place must be protected, even from the best intentions. Return home and worry not. You are meant for greater things.”
“But,” Cooper pleaded. I recognized that expression. Oftentimes when he asked for something, his eyes went wide, as if he feared being rejected on a much deeper level than what was being asked. “Those are my friends. Myonlyfriends.” A tear ran down his cheek. “I want to be with them.”
The man squeezed his shoulder and led him away. I wanted to destroy him for making my Cooper cry. I recalled Cooper telling me about getting bullied in school, and my heart broke. The confident man I’d fallen in love with had been a lonely child who’d desperately wanted someone to let him in, and this man had turned him away.
What the fuck was this carnival bullshit anyway?
“All will be revealed in time. Apologies, my curious young friend. Know that you will find love and acceptance in great abundance when you need it most. You will require patience to endure the dark times ahead, but you have such a bright light inside you. Like attracts like, and you shall have all that you desire.”
“But not the carnival?”
The man shook his head, the light from his swirling eyes glinting off unshed tears.
“You are not a traveler. You are something far more important. Your innate gifts are needed. You are loved.” And with that, he reached into his pocket, brought out his hand in a fist, opened it, and blew powder in Cooper’s face.
“No!”
Cooper crumbled to the ground, Dane tugged on my hand, and we were sucked backward, the colors streaking past us. Pressure squeezed my chest and I gasped for air, my vision blacking out before the bright light of Walter’s kitchen seared my retinas.
“Lay him down. Denny, can you hear me? His pulse is racing. Grab my blood pressure cuff, would you, babe?”
Walter held a hand to my forehead, his brow tight with worry.
“Den? Buddy? Can you talk? Shit! Den, I’m gonna call the ambulance, man.”
I grabbed for his arm and squeezed hard. “Right…pocket.”
He reached into my jeans and pulled out the tiny bottle I’d been carrying every day since my angioplasty.
“What the…Nitroglycerin?Fuck! Okay.” He pulled out a pill, stuck it under my tongue and frowned even deeper. “We’re gonna have words. As soon as you’re upright, goddammit.”
“What’s going—Denny!”
Cooper held my face in his hands, making me look at him.
“What happened? Den?” His gaze traveled away, and his eyes bugged out. “The Ouija board? Somebody better explain to me what’s happening!”
“You were there, baby.” The tightness in my chest had subsided, but it hurt to talk. “He made you leave. He…he drugged you. He took your memory away, but you were there.”
Cooper gasped, and his gaze shot to Dane.
“He’s telling the truth. Cooper, you were at the carnival. Mr. Ame, he can see far and wide. He knows things. He has to protect the carnival. Maybe…maybe he didn’t let you in because he knew Evans would try to use you?”
Cooper blinked, then he looked down at me. “Denny? What happened? Is it your heart?” His hand and voice shook as he ran his fingers through my hair.
“Let me up,” I said. “I’m fine.” I tried to smile at Cooper, but he kept touching me, rubbing my chest. He took my pulse with his fingers, looked at the blood pressure cuff. Then his eyes narrowed.
“Why did none of you call 9-1-1? He needs the hospital?—”
“I’m fine, baby. I swear. My heart just didn’t like that astral projection shit. I’m meant to stay put right here. I’m not made for woo-woo land.”
“Jesus Christ, D,” Walter said with a relieved exhale. He leaned back on his haunches and shook his head. “You scared the shit out of me. What’s up with the pills, man?”
“Gene didn’t tell you?”
“No, he didn’t tell me your old-man ass was popping pills! What’s wrong? Angina?”
