The Grand Ballast by J.A. Rock

me.”
    “ I know.”
    Bode lay for a moment in silence, listening
to Kilroy breathe. “I don’t know what the point of art is if you
don’t scare people a little.”
    Kilroy kissed him softly and whispered, “Not
all art has to change the world. Some only has to change a moment.”
His teeth flashed in the darkness. “But if you need help losing
your innocence—just ask.”
    “ Uh-huh. It’s already
gone.”
    “ No.” Kilroy shook his head
and gently stroked Bode’s cheek. “Not at all.” He seemed less
manic, less…powerful than usual. It made Bode nervous, for some
reason.
    Bode nudged Kilroy’s
shoulder with his nose. “You know that thing your brain does—if you
see a dog through a fence, you don’t see the whole dog, but your
brain takes clues from what it can see and fills in the rest?” He said the words to
the soft skin between Kilroy’s collarbone and shoulder. “That’s
what I want this new show to be. Glimpses of violence, of the worst
things we do to one another. Glimpses of kindness and—and—boredom
and desire and everything. And the viewer fills in the
rest.”
    “ Hmm.”
    What did hmm mean? “I worry a
little, though,” Bode admitted, looking up.
    “ About what?”
    “ Life experience. I
haven’t—I mean, what if I haven’t been through enough pain to make
people feel the ugly parts? I’ve had, like, the easiest
life.”
    Kilroy pushed Bode’s hair back from his
forehead. “Would you say you’re obsessed with dance?”
    “ Probably. I don’t really
think about anything else.”
    Kilroy’s lips parted slightly. His breath
was warm against Bode’s cheek. “You can be passionate without being
obsessed. Being passionate about something or someone is inspiring,
joyful, perhaps. Obsession is something much darker, but it teaches
you every noteworthy human experience—love, bitterness, jealousy,
heartbreak, desire.”
    “ Do you have an
obsession?”
    “ People. I become obsessed
with extraordinary people.” Kilroy ran his thumb over Bode’s lower
lip. “As you may have noticed.”
    “ Creep.” Bode butted
Kilroy’s chest gently, hiding his smile.
    “ You should open yourself
up to it. Love without obsession is a very faint thing. Obsession
is what’s missing from the world now. It’s what will bring us
back.”
    Bode snickered. “All right, Kilroy Ballast.”
He glanced up and placed a quick kiss on Kilroy’s chin. “Prepare
for me to become obsessed with you. I’ll watch your every move and
pine when you’re away and contemplate suicide when you’re angry
with me.”
    Kilroy laughed too and tugged a hank of
Bode’s hair. “You have a very quaint idea of obsession,” he said
softly. “But it’s a start.”
     

 
     
     
     
    3.
     
     
    INSIDE THE HYDRA
ARENA
     
    The Grand Ballast went on
hiatus after Warren. Kilroy’s car was unhitched from the rest of
the train in the rail yard and a conductor was hired to take Kilroy
and Bode east toward the Hydra Arena, while Mr. Lein stayed behind
to watch over the other performers and get a doctor for
LJ.
    Kilroy and Bode sat stiff
and silent, like lovers after a quarrel. The car barreled through
the night, and Bode tried to stay alert despite the Haze dragging
on his mind.
    Kilroy asked, suddenly,
“What were you? Before you came to work for me?”
    “ A dancer,” Bode replied
immediately. He hadn’t forgotten that.
    “ And?”
    Bode glared at him. “I
danced in a theater. I didn’t appreciate my parents. I thought they
were dull.” Bode’s throat closed. He wanted, abruptly and with a
brutal urgency, another chance to love them.
    The car glided on. Bode
found the air in it unnaturally thick.
    “ A murderer.” Kilroy spoke
the words so quietly they drifted smoke-like into the sound of the
wheels along the tracks. “Don’t forget.”
    “ Gimme a
cigarette.”
    Kilroy rose slowly. Walked
over to Bode and stood beside him. He appeared to study the dark
window with its green velvet curtains.