Dewey’s – By Anne Barwell #5
“I love you, too,” Hal whispered, “but this is hopeless. We’re a hundred years apart, and at some point, we both need to admit there is no way we can have a future together.”
“Perhaps that’s why there’s nothing out there about you?” Daniel clung stubbornly to the only answer he wanted to make sense. “Your future isn’t set yet, because it’s here with me?”
Hal looked shocked. “I’m… I know nothing about your time. Even if there was a way to be with you here, I’m not sure I could. I’m sorry.”
“I could be with you in yours.” Daniel felt foolish as soon as he’d suggested it. Why were they discussing something that could never be?
“It’s illegal and risky. You could find someone in your time, and be allowed to marry.” Hal suddenly looked exhausted, despair lining the creases of his eyes.
“You and Joseph were together, but not in plain sight. Gay people existed in your time. They found a way. We couldn’t be married, obviously, but we could be confirmed bachelors together.
Friends who share a house, that kind of thing.
” The idea of a simpler time appealed. He had nothing holding him here except Serena, and he could find a way to leave her letters.
People did it in books and movies. She’d be worried about him, but if he left her proof he’d found happiness, she’d understand.
“I tune pianos for a living. Plenty of those in your time, too.”
“Whereas a newspaper columnist is probably a dying breed in yours.” Hal shook his head, yanked his hand free, stood and started to pace. “Listen to us, planning an impossible future. A hundred years is not easily traveled.”
“We’ll find a way….”
“Find a way to do what?”
Daniel turned at the unfamiliar voice, to see the concerned gaze of an old man. “Hal….” he trailed off, at the echo of a door slamming. He didn’t have to look for Hal to know he’d gone.
The old man pulled up a chair and settled himself opposite Daniel. “I figured you’d been talking to him.”
Gerry walked over to set two coffees and a plate of loaded fries between them before Daniel could answer.
“Daniel, this is my grandfather, Germain. Pepère, this is Daniel, the piano tuner I told you about.” He glanced between them.
“If either of you needs rescuing from the other, I’ll be over at the bar. ”
Germain snorted and then helped himself to a handful of fries. “He means well, my grandson, but refuses to open his eyes, despite being perfectly capable of seeing what others don’t.”
“You once played Hal’s tune on the piano. What happened?”
“Straight to the point.” Germain nodded his approval and gestured to the fries and coffee. “Eat up, before I do. Gerry makes a mean plate of fries. His grandmother taught him well.” He waited for Daniel to help himself, then asked, “What are you trying to do?”
“You’re straight to the point, too.” Germain struck him as someone who didn’t suffer fools easily, either.
“That, I am. You’ve seen him , haven’t you? Gerry says you spend a lot of evenings in this corner, and that the piano is taking way longer to tune than it should for someone with your experience.”
“Hal and I… We’ve been meeting here most evenings.” Daniel waited for Germain to interrupt, but he merely raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what happened to him?”
“What do you want to have happened to him?” Germain countered, with a question Daniel wasn’t expecting.
“I want him to have a happy life with whoever will give him that.” Daniel swallowed, picked up his coffee, and wrapped his hands around the mug.
While he wanted so badly for that person to be him, the wish wasn’t fair to either of them.
Perhaps it was time to let both of them move on with their lives.
“He’s been living with his grief for so long, he needs to be free of it.
” He managed a smile, thinking of the conversations they’d had.
“I think he can, now, or can at least begin that journey.”
“I see.” Germain looked thoughtful. He poked at one of the fries before finally picking it up and eating it. “You two haven’t merely been talking. You’ve been falling in love.”
Daniel looked up in surprise and opened his mouth to disagree, but what came out was completely different. “Yes. There’s no law against it, you know. Not anymore.”
“Love chooses us, and doesn’t always pay heed to circumstances.
” Germain glanced at the piano and then bent to pat Bib, who was still hanging around.
“A long time ago, I played that piano. Someone I loved had recently passed away. I was heartbroken and remembered the song my daddy played when I was a boy.”
“Hal’s song.”
“Yes.” Germain wiped his hands on a napkin and pushed the plate toward Daniel.
“When I played it, I felt someone reach out from far away, and then I heard an echo of the song from long ago. I turned and there was a door in the wall where there hadn’t been one before.
If I’d continued playing, I could have walked through it, and left my grief behind, but I didn’t. ”
“Why not?”
“The door wasn’t meant for me. I made the connection with the magic, and the music, but not the person.
My love had lived a good life, despite it being short, and had no regrets.
I wasn’t about to latch onto someone else’s grief, and I wasn’t the person he needed.
” Germain shook his head. “I talked to a few people afterward, older folk who know about such things. That message wasn’t meant for me to use, but to pass along.
They said I’d know when it was the right time. ”
“You didn’t play here again.”
“Not the right time, and not for me.” Germain reached over the table and gripped Daniel’s arm. “Have you played the piano at the same time as Hal?”
“Yes, but… it wasn’t in tune. The pitch didn’t match.” Daniel hesitated. “That’s about to change.” His heart sped up in response to what he hoped Germain was suggesting. “Are you sure that’s all we need to do?”
“This kind of magic has never been done, as far as I know, so there’s no way to be sure.
” Germain grew silent for another moment.
“If you try this, you can’t have any doubts.
It has to be what you both want. Chances like this don’t come along in most lifetimes, and it’s likely a one-way trip.
Magic is a gift for those who need it badly enough, and isn’t there for your convenience.
” He stood. “You’ll be leaving people who care about you.
At least find a way to let them know, and give them some warning, hmm? ”
“If it doesn’t work, I’ll be leaving town, anyway.” Daniel was already thinking ahead. He’d need to talk to Hal first. No point in making plans to leave and then having to wait around for Hal to show up again.
“You were only passing through.” Germain nodded. “At least, that’s what you told my grandson.” He got up to leave before turning to Daniel one last time. “I’d like to know if you leave the conventional way, too, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” Daniel would leave a note with Gerry, either way. “Hey, Germain.” He smiled, hope soaring through his heart. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, yet, for a crazy idea that still needs to work.”
“This is wishful thinking, nothing more,” Hal said after Germain had left. He closed the door behind him.
“How much did you hear?” Daniel hadn’t seen or heard Hal return, but then he’d been a little distracted.
“Most of it.” Hal strode over to Daniel and sat on Germain’s abandoned chair. “Do you want to try?”
“Do you want me to?” Daniel wouldn’t attempt anything without Hal’s agreement. “I won’t be a burden to you, a reminder of a moment of foolishness.”
“Being with you isn’t foolishness.” Hal scowled. “I…” His face lit up. “I’m sorry I left before. I was scared. I don’t want to lose someone else I care about.”
“If this doesn’t work, I’ll have to leave town, you know that, right? It’s not fair to either of us to keep meeting like this, wanting more.”
“I agree.” Hal caught Daniel’s hand in his and squeezed it. “What will you do when you leave?”
“I’ll go back to LA and pack up my apartment, find somewhere new. Start over. You?”
“I’ve been thinking it’s time to leave town.” Hal’s melancholy expression made Daniel’s heart sink. “I don’t know where I’d go, though.”
“I figure neither of us has anything to lose. Either this works, or it doesn’t.” Daniel echoed Hal’s earlier action, brought their joined hands to his lips, and kissed Hal’s knuckles. “I want to believe it will.”
The following evening was a wild one. The coming storm had taken power out across Louisiana, and the air had a weird, electrically charged smell to it.
Despite warnings to stay in, Daniel turned up at the bar, backpack over his shoulder.
He’d paid Mrs. Guidry in full, and included that night, just in case.
To his surprise, the bar wasn’t locked, although he’d been prepared to bang on the door if necessary.
“You’d better come in before the storm hits.” Gerry was in the bar alone, and locked the door after Daniel entered. “Pepère said you wanted to finish tuning the piano before you leave tomorrow. I told him it could wait, but he was insistent.”
“Thanks. For everything.” Daniel put down his bag and handed Gerry an envelope. “Could you give this back to me if you see me leave tonight? Otherwise, pass it along to your grandfather.”
Gerry raised an eyebrow, for a moment looking like a younger version of his grandfather. He nodded and slipped the envelope into his pocket. “I’ll be out back if you need me to unlock the door for you, but I suspect we’ll both be bunking down here for the night with the way the wind is coming up.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t sound good.” Daniel had packed light for a few days.
Most of his clothes would be too modern for his destination, but he’d kept his phone to show Hal some photos, and his charger, although it wouldn’t be good for much more than that.
He also had his tuning gear, as that would be useful.