Old Time Religion by E. H. Lupton

Author:E. H. Lupton [E. H. Lupton]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winnowing Fan Press, Madison, WI
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Rather than head directly for Sam’s apartment, which would still be empty, he carried his bag down the hill to James Madison Park and sat on the cement in front of the boathouse, looking out at the lake.

There was no moon visible, and the stars were out, mixing with the few lights on the far shore of the lake until he could let his eyes blur and not quite know whether his vision encompassed only sky or only water or both. There was no real noise except the water lapping at the edge of the walkway and the cars and pedestrians passing on Gorham, a good hundred feet or more from where he was sitting. He took a deep breath of air that smelled slightly of the lake, slightly of the winter that hadn’t quite given them up.

After a while, he managed to still his mind, and turned his attention to the question of where Sam happened to be. He knew, of course, that Sam was at rehearsal at the Union, or given the time possibly just stepping outside. But having watched the other man perform the ‘Where’s Ulysses’ trick a few times, he was interested to see if he could make it work as well.

When pressed, Sam had made it sound like a subconscious tug rather than something he called up at will, which was interesting. Ulysses had been aware of finding Dionysus on one occasion, but that had been like looking for a bonfire in the center of a dark field. Now he let his mind roam.

He was conscious of the cold ground underneath him, the cold wall behind him, the breeze off the lake, the bruises that still felt kind of awful despite Obe’s ministrations. And Sam—

Sam was nearby, or so all of his cells seemed to be screaming. But what was nearby? The Union wasn’t that far as the crow flew, barely a mile, although he couldn’t quite see the lights on the terrace from where he was sitting because of the shoreline’s meanderings in between. But that wasn’t the kind of margin of error that would have let Sam track him to Celeste and Obe’s apartment.

Ulysses’s body was eager, though, straining in the direction it thought Sam might be. He wanted to be with Sam. To be touched, the way Sam did so carefully when they were together. To be held. The illicit thrill when Sam overcame his innate uptightness and let their hands brush against one another in public. He wanted—

He exhaled.

“There you are,” Sam said, sitting down next to him.

Ulysses didn’t exactly jump, but he did kind of lurch sideways in surprise and make an embarrassing noise.

“What’s that look for?” Sam asked mildly.

“Nothing. You just startled me.” He pulled himself together. “How was rehearsal?”

“It was fine.” Sam leaned back against the boathouse. “Well, it was a disaster. We’re three weeks out from opening and people are still learning their lines. But the special effects are working, and I’ve got the lighting plan done, so when we move to the performance venue we can get everything hung pretty quickly.

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