The Summer Prince (33 page)

The three of us wait at the very back of the glass bubble with its plunging view straight into the bay. We wear matching outfits of stark white that Gil’s mamãe designed. The white suit and hat makes Enki look like the old, dapper statues of Exu, the trickster orixá. Gil has a genius for a mamãe. When the first guest arrives, I turn to Enki and whisper, “Now.”

The holos turn on, revealing three monstrous projections at three ends of the room. One is the stencil of me and Enki, the second of Wanadi and Regina. And in between them, hovering over the bay is my changed version, the one that could be technophile or isolationist, that turns a bullet hole into ambiguity.

The rest of the holos project water, with floating seaweed and an occasional school of fish darting past.

Then music starts to blast throughout the room and Gil grins. “Even better than last time,” he says.

“They’ll always be better than last time,” Enki says, running his fingers lightly up Gil’s arm. “So long as we’re throwing them.”

I think,
That won’t be much longer
, but Gil just leans in and kisses Enki hard on the lips.

I remember that first night, when Gil and I first saw Enki. When Enki and Gil first fell in love. I felt so alone and bereft and confused. I watch them now and wish for something even that simple.

They come to our party in twos and threes and then by the dozens. Gil dances like the old days, like he wants to tempt his own death. No matter how many people crowd in, he always has a space around him. Enki keeps pace for a while until I come up behind him, hook my fingers into his belt loop. He turns in a smooth pirouette and laughs at my frown.

“Come, bem-querer,” he says, “don’t you want to dance?”

“What if there are too many people?” I ask.

“Then they’ll dance somewhere else.” An eel slides past his face. He pokes his fingers through its insubstantial flesh and I start to laugh, though I don’t know why.

“There,” he says. He puts his hands, firm, on my hips.

“What —”

But he shakes his head. I’m silent when his muscles bunch and his hands tighten and I’m flying over his head, flying with my hands out and my head back. It burns my throat like strong wine. We’re in the glass bubble over the city, surrounded by a thousand Palmarinas of all ages. I feel connected to the world, with Enki beneath me and the city glittering beneath us all.

Enki catches me under my armpits and sets me down lightly on the glass floor.

I mean to thank him, but instead, “When you called me in front of the committee …”

He cocks his head. “You wanted to kill me?”

“Never.”

My stomach clenches at just the thought. Maybe he knows; he squeezes my hand in apology. “What, June?”

I take a deep breath. “I don’t know if I would have said the name. I’m just not sure.”

I’m still trying to gauge his silent, careful reaction when someone grabs me from behind, engulfs me in a messy embrace.

“June! I found you!” Bebel, apparently, has indulged in the wine. “Dance with me?” She plants her hands on my hips. I shrug and let her lead. I feel the hole of Enki’s lost presence for a lot longer than I should, but at least Bebel’s a happy drunk.

“Amazing party,” she says, resting her head on the hollow between my neck and shoulder blade. In a fit of tenderness, I wrap my arm around her. She doesn’t deserve what I’ve done to her. I’ve had a dozen chances to put it right, but instead I hide with Enki and Gil, hoping that this horrible thing I’ve done will just go away. But how can it, if the person responsible doesn’t make herself change?

“Is this what it’s like to swim?” she asks.

“You’ve never been?”

She shrugs. “My mamãe says it’s dangerous.”

“Mine made me learn as soon as I could walk.”

I smile to remember this and Bebel smiles back. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, June. We’re friends, I know we are, and I don’t want you to worry about any of that bullshit with the class rankings and which of us will come out on top. You earned your place and I’m proud of you. And if you win the Queen’s Award, I’ll be even prouder. You deserve it.”

I cough so hard I can hardly breathe. “But … Bebel, no, I don’t …”

The knife in my gut:
I don’t deserve anything I haven’t worked for.

But Bebel is Bebel, and she interprets my stuttering denial in the best possible light. “Doing so well even with all this extra pressure? I’m sure I wouldn’t have managed half as well as you. I admire you, that’s all.”

She smiles at me without a trace of condescension. I can’t bear to be near her any longer. I can’t stand what that says about me.

“You’ll win,” I say very carefully.

She blinks. “June, I don’t think —”

“I cheated. I let the Aunties help me cheat. They fixed my score on the exam.”

I might as well have told her that Queen Odete never existed. She covers her mouth with her hands and gasps like she can’t catch her breath.

“I’m so sorry,” I say because I am, though I know it doesn’t mean anything.

“I always … I thought the art mattered to you more than the prize. Didn’t you want it to mean something?”

My heart feels like a shriveled fruit. “I forgot.”

She stares at me for a long moment, as though she can discern in my face the tortured justifications and towering ambitions that brought us to this place, rivals separated by morality.

“You’ll win,” I say.

“With the Aunties on your side!”

“I’m going to disqualify myself and you’ll win. Just remember I told you so.”

I leave before she can respond. I leave before Enki can find me or Gil can pull me into his dance or any of the other hundred people who want my attention can get it. I push my way through the crowd, not bothering to dance, not bothering to smile. I don’t even wipe the tears that have formed in the corners of my eyes. Nothing I do is right anymore. I’m not worth anything at all, and I can’t believe that I once thought I was worth the love of a king and a city.

I hide myself in the control room, lit only by the ambient light from a few activated arrays. I make sure not to touch anything: I wouldn’t want to ruin our undersea holo show outside.

I just sit on the floor, bury my head between my knees, and cry.

Enki finds me. He says, “I told them to leave.”

“Everyone?”

He kneels beside me, but doesn’t touch. My face feels stiff with dried salt, as if it will crack when I move. “Sure,” he says. “We had a few hours.”

The party should have gone until dawn, until the Aunties and their secretaries glared at us while we stumbled home. When I could have slipped away, unnoticed.

“Where’s Gil?” I ask.

“Everyone,” Enki says again. “I told him it was my mods.”

His hair is still damp with sweat. He leans against the wall, so close that the cloth of his shirt brushes my bare arm. His breath hitches a little, but then, mine does too.

“Is it?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s always the mods, these days.”

His eyes roll back in his head; his breathing slows. “The Aunties are trying to get in.” His voice is gentle over the speakers.

“Do they know they can’t?”

His voice laughs, but his face remains slack. “I haven’t told them yet.”

“Enki,” I say, “Enki, come out, look at me.” I rub at my cheeks and move so I’m facing him, sitting on my ankles. His shoulders jerk and his irises roll back to their proper position — a process that would terrify me if I hadn’t seen it so many times before. He shivers and gasps. Without thinking, I reach out to stroke his arms.

“What did you want?” I ask.

“Let me show you something.”

He stands a little unsteadily and then reaches down to pull me up. I think we might look nice together, June and Enki in matching whites, if anyone could see us. The auditorium is deserted, though the holos still run. I like it this way: Even in fake water, Enki has an elemental beauty. I think,
We’ll have to do that again next summer
. And then I remember.

He takes me to the far edge of the bubble and presses his nose into the glass. If I don’t look behind me, it’s as if Enki and I are floating.

“I shouldn’t have called you to testify,” he says. “You have a right to your own life. Like you said, you’re the one who will get to live it.”

I squeeze my hands so tight my nails dig hard half-moons into my palms. How I wish I had never said that. “But what’s the price of a life?”

He takes my left fist and gently pries it open. “I’ve made compromises. I won’t tell anyone what I know either.”

“Only because they threatened Gil.”

His eyes widen, but he smiles. “You know about that?”

“I know
you
.”

He starts on my other hand, pulls the fingers up one by one. His touch is like eating a Scotch bonnet.

“Oreste picked Gil. She didn’t think to pick you.”

“What do I have to do with anything?”

“June, June,” he says, like I’m the lyrics to a song. He has a beautiful voice, I don’t know why I ever thought otherwise. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Tell me?”

That’s what I say, when I know he means to kiss me.

This time Enki’s lips are soft, his breath sweet like ginger. His eyes burn light and dark, constellations in a night sky.

“I love you,” he says through the speakers.

“You love the world,” I say, the words muffled in lips and tongues and hands.

“Not as much,” says the city/Enki.

I fall to my knees on the glass. It rattles my teeth, but I don’t feel it. I’m hungry; I grab his shirt and yank him down, so desperate for this thing that I hardly understand.

His lips trail down my neck; they find my tree. He unbuttons my shirt, kisses down the lights. They’re bright enough to light up the blood in his lips. I can hardly believe the noises coming from my throat, but he’s quiet. I’m cradled in city lights; I’m floating.

“I thought you wouldn’t.” I gasp as I climb over him. “I thought you didn’t want me.”
I thought you didn’t love me.

“I’m being selfish,” he says in his own voice.

I don’t know what he means, but I can’t ask. I’m half naked against the glass. My words have broken down, my thoughts smear from my mouth like shapes, formless sounds expressing only emotion.

I remember how it was with Gil: tentative, awkward, fun. I hardly recognize this as the same act. The holo flickers and then gives out entirely. Enki’s hands start to shake. Is it the mods? But he knows exactly what he’s doing when he unbuttons my pants, slips them down my hips and to my ankles.

He’s followed my tree.

I lose track. My hands tangle in his hair. A voice that must be mine cries out. I am myself looking upon myself.

June has wanted this so much.

He will burn her up. She doesn’t care.

He smiles at me; the white of his teeth catches the white of the city lights. I squint, but I won’t close my eyes. I can’t. I want to see him, forever, until I never see him again.

Lights flicker, a firefly calling to mate. At first, I think it’s the lights in the room, but no, here in the bubble there’s only the city sliding to water beneath us.

Enki holds me very tight. Our sweat slicks the glass, smears the flickering white.

“What,” I try to say. “Why?”

But maybe Enki has lost his words too. Even the ones he can make with the city. He just cradles my head, kisses me as if we have a thousand years ahead of us, and moves
inside
….

How does that feel, June?

It feels —

The lights are out in Palmares Três.

In the dark, I seem to stretch. Without a body to witness, I grow and grow with my pleasure. I feel like a constellation, a concept hung on a scattering of stars.

But the moon is nearly full, and eventually my eyes adjust. We watch each other in the dark, dark night. We watch each other until we explode, until nerves force my eyes shut and his face crumples and our cries turn to gasps and long, shuddering sighs.

We lie, shaking in the dark for a long time. Then I slide off, curling into Enki’s side. I feel his ribs, tracing each bump until they end. I rest my hand by his collarbone, so my index finger jumps a little with each labored heartbeat.