Free The Grand Ballast by J.A. Rock Page A

laughter rose.
    Bode looked into the crowd
and spied a squat man with a blond crew cut, holding a caramel
apple by its stick. Kilroy must have seen too, because he yanked
Bode to his feet and held him like a shield. The apple hit Bode’s
chest and bounced off, leaving a sticky smear of caramel on his
throbbing skin. It landed in the dirt with the stick pointing
up.
    Kilroy kept Bode in front
of him and shouted into the stands: “I agree he makes a beautiful
target.”
    More people threw things—a
soda bottle, a paperback—but missed. Then, amid the shouting and
the laughter, a woman’s voice: “Aw, let him go! He looks
scared.”
    A rage erupted in Bode
unlike any he’d felt before. He shoved Kilroy aside and raced
toward the bleachers. People jerked to the side, parting for him,
letting out cries of surprise and fear.
    And fuck ’em all. I’m not
afraid.
    He couldn’t see the woman,
didn’t know who she was.
    Don’t you ever pity me,
bitch. Don’t you ever.
    Kilroy caught him by the
ankle and pulled him back to the ground. Bode’s chin struck the
first metal bench. He coughed bitterly, bringing up mucus black
with sawdust as Kilroy hauled him backward. Lights popped around
him and dust rose, forming a haze.
    Fuck you.
    The ring stick fell again
and again, the thorns piercing him, intensifying his fury. He
struggled and twisted, until Kilroy’s fist landed against the side
of his head and he collapsed in the dust. He rolled onto his back,
coughing. High above, a trapeze bar swung slowly back and forth, as
though in use by a lazy ghost, and the silver ladder that led to
the platform gleamed.
    Kilroy dragged him toward a
wheeled cross that had been set at the edge of the ring after
Kayak’s act. Kilroy motioned Mr. Lein out of the wings, and
together they lashed Bode face forward to the wooden X-frame, then
pushed the cross out to the center of the ring. The wheels
thickened the cloud in the air.
    The spectators gawped back
at him, all grins and yawns, cotton candy disappearing into their
mouths. They hollered and whooped, booed and cheered. Another
tomato sailed by Kilroy. “Worst fuckin’ circus I ever saw!” a man
yelled.
    Bode turned to Kilroy.
Kilroy’s jaw tightened, but a moment later, a grin spread across
his face.
    “ Ladies and gentlemen,” he
said grandly, opening his arms and backing behind the cross. “Fire
away.”
     
    ***
     
    Bode sat in the tub in the
bathroom of Kilroy’s car, listening to the sequence of soft
splashes as Kilroy wrung out a cloth. The water around Bode was
orange-red; tomato seeds and popcorn kernels floated on its
surface. He refused to look up, just watched the seeds drift by and
hugged his knees to his chest.
    He shivered as Kilroy
touched a cloth to his neck and wiped another gob of
something—relish—into the water. Bode watched it float. Kilroy
dragged the cloth across wide bruise on Bode’s upper arm. Leaned
close to his ear. “You’ll listen next time, won’t you?”
    Bode didn’t
answer.
    Kilroy rubbed each knot in
Bode’s spine with his thumb. “Look at me.”
    Bode closed his
eyes.
    Kilroy forced his chin up
and squeezed his cheeks until Bode opened his eyes. The right one
was swollen; Bode could barely see out of it. “Do you miss the
Haze?”
    Bode nodded. A mercy. The
blue pills would be a mercy. Only a fool would reject that bleak
kindness. Kilroy released him, and he stared at the water and
continued to nod with increasing vigor until Kilroy crooked an arm
gently around his neck and pressed Bode’s wet hair to his red satin
jacket. Bode leaned hard against him, chest heaving with silent
sobs.
    “ Hush now,” Kilroy said.
“I’ll get your medicine. We have a trip to take after tomorrow’s
show, and I want you to be well.”
     
     
    MAYBE I AM IN
LOVE
     
    Then.
     
    Kilroy broke the lease at
his old place and rented an apartment in the historic district of
town. It was old and drafty, but elegant, with a simple chandelier
in the living