CHAPTER NINE #2
His mind conjured myths of the garden and the tree of knowledge that had unleashed the deadly sin of curiosity, and so Joanna reached for the fruit.
He considered the cruelty of a god imagined to disguise the viciousness and solidify the control of the men who’d invented him.
He jumped as Joanna screamed the scream of every woman to have lost her own spirit or essence to such men.
Together, they summoned the scream of every mother to have lost a child in the name of power, greed, ego, or religion.
Joanna’s tears flowed as she danced. She smeared them across her face, deliberately ruining her makeup, the distortion adding just another digression to their strange, intimate conversation.
And there was joy, curiosity, discovery and love, celebrated and forbidden.
Together, they stood in awe of the wondrous pyramids of New Spain and Granada, falling into a swarm of bodies, limbs all reaching for the next great pleasure.
It was a travelogue, a trip through time, an orgy of spirits and hearts, and it united their minds in ways Alex had never experienced.
He had never desired Joanna, at least not physically.
Admired, yes, but this was so much more than either emotion.
He felt a creature wrap around his leg, binding it to hers and knew it was a snake unlike any in nature, its touch warm and comforting in all its strangeness.
It bound their naked bodies together in pure, platonic joy, celebrating curiosity’s promise—Lucifer’s promise—fulfilled.
Despite his anticipating Joanna’s every movement, she was no one’s puppet, commanding each motion with independence and determination. He wanted to turn to Jago, but his body refused. It wasn’t Jago resisting him… it was Joanna.
Don’t look away, Alex. Don’t abandon me on this journey we’ve begun. Not until it’s over.
He watched each movement capture their shared rage, sadness, joy, excitement and hope.
Without words in their way, Joanna plucked them straight from his heart, which still beat an irregular rhythm, keeping pace with the dance.
Occasionally, Joanna would let out another screech, or a laugh, or start singing in a language he didn’t know.
Was it the same language he’d heard at La Otra Cava?
For the moment, La Otra Cava seemed no less real a place than this.
There was no build to a performative ‘big finish’ that would leave the audience spellbound.
Alex felt the snake release his limbs, its warm flesh sliding off him to find new creativity elsewhere.
Joanna remained, wrapped in his arms in their shared mind’s eye.
Vicente spooned her from behind, while Jago did the same for Alex, four naked bodies that at last rolled over, splayed north, south, east and west like the cross, staring wide-eyed and innocent as virgins at the same god to which Joanna had offered their dance.
And then, she stopped. Standing on the stage, hair hanging low over her face, drenched with perspiration, she took her bow. Alex at last saw Jago smiling, while Maria stood from her seat, her eyes wide, hands over her mouth. The music faded and they waited, until at last Maria turned to him.
“You can have any nights you want.” With no further explanation, she retreated, making it as far as the house doors before Jago spoke.
“Thursday,” he said, as if this required no further clarification.
Maria nodded. “Easily done. I’ll make sure Alice’s Wild Trip is bumped out on time.”
“Alice’s Wild Trip?” Alex asked. “Really? He’s going with that title? Does Disney know?”
“You can have Si-Man’s entire run, opening on the Thursday.”
“No, just the Thursday,” Jago said again. “One night. Opening and closing.”
Vicente emerged from the tech booth, while Joanna pushed the hair back from her face, tucking it out of the way into the back of her dress. They all stared at Jago.
“Jago?” Alex asked. “I think we need to discuss this.”
Maria put her hands on her hips. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Your new show is brilliant, but make up your minds. Are you sure you just want—”
“Just Thursday,” Jago repeated, turning to Alex with a confident smile. “Then, let them talk about nothing else for those two weeks. Let them all wish they’d gotten a ticket.”
“This is stupid,” Vicente snapped.
“Listen to your techie,” Maria said. “If you don’t take those two weeks, I’m stuck with Leo fucking Mendoza because he surely will, even if he has to make his parents eat the rental, and we can’t strike his set for a one-night show. Alex, I implore you—”
“Two weeks, Maria. We’ll take it. Thanks,” Alex said, exchanging nods with Joanna and Vicente. Only once Maria was gone did he turn to Jago. “Only one night? After all this? Are you mad?”
“Not in the slightest,” Jago answered, eyes bright as he fixed them on Joanna. “Tonight was excellent, yes? A taste of what you can create together. But can you do the same every night? For two weeks? What do you intend to do next time?”
“Good question. Alex, do you have notes for me?” asked Vicente.
Alex knew Vicente well enough to tell when he was biting back a sarcastic comment. But he’d been so caught up in Joanna’s performance, he’d taken none. “I… no. Sorry, Vis, I… it was perfect.”
“Perfect? Okay…” His friend hesitated. “I just can’t promise it’ll be the same every time.”
“Exactly,” Jago said, “and it never will be again.” Without another word, he approached the stage, where Joanna sat cross legged, smiling serenely as if the dance hadn’t ended.
Alex followed, not taking his eyes off her. “Are you all—?”
“Alex,” she said, holding up a finger to shush him. “You of all people know I am more than ‘all right.”
He turned to Vicente, who’d joined them. “How much of the lighting did you write down? Maybe I can fill in the gaps or make notes from memory.”
“I didn’t write anything down,” Vicente continued before Alex could make a sound. “I know what you’re thinking. I just knew how to wing it. Don’t ask me how. It was like we shared a mind. Jo?”
Joanna hummed with satisfaction, articulating nothing.
“I think this is a discussion you three need to have,” said Jago with an air of resignation. “Alex, I’ll be outside. Walk with me when you’re done, please.”
“Excuse me? I think we all deserve to know why you only wanted this to play one night.”
Jago shrugged. “You already know why. Because you’ll never repeat what we just experienced. Every night is just one night.”
“So, you’re saying we’ve set ourselves up to crash and burn?”
“I said no such thing.” Without elaborating further, Jago left them alone in the dark, silent theatre.
“He’s right,” said Joanna. “I don’t know what just happened, Alex. It was like Vis said, sharing a mind.”
“What did he do to us?” asked Vicente.
Alex shook his head, scratching at his palms. “Whatever it was, we need it. Maybe that’s why we’ll never repeat it. He’s doing a runner.”
“Darling, that doesn’t make sense,” Joanna observed. “He’s waiting for you outside. You, specifically. That doesn’t sound like a runner to me.”
Alex had to admit this was not the act of someone leaving them high and dry. In fact, besides the odd insistence that they perform only one night, Jago’s every action and word had only brought out the best from their show.
Joanna stepped closer, kissing his cheek. “Even if he has some strange ideas, it’s bad manners to keep a cute boy with your best interests at heart waiting.”
“Vis?”
Vicente shrugged, caught between a damning opinion of Jago and an inability to deny their strongest performance yet. Before he could second-guess himself, Alex threw his arms around each of them, grabbed his knapsack and hurried out to meet Jago.