THAT MERRY WANDERER OF THE NIGHT

by Linda S Barth

Pascal consulted his clipboard, muttering a few comments only he could hear. Finally, he raised his head as his gaze skittered from one face to the next. “Let’s go over the schedule together one last time just to be sure.”

Five heads nodded their readiness to comply – again.

“Ian and Zach, you’ll be taking the six-thirty to midnight shift Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays for five weeks, beginning next Tuesday. That’s just four nights from now.”

A duet of patient voices replied, “Right. Next Tuesday.”

Pascal made two firm checkmarks on his list.

“Rafael and Jamie, you’re scheduled for the same time period – six-thirty to midnight – and your nights are Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Also for five weeks but beginning next Wednesday.”

An equally patient duo managed to smother their sighs. “Got it.”

Two more checkmarks were inscribed on the list before he looked at the woman leaning against his desk. “And Sarah, you’ll keep filling in as needed. It won’t be much longer. I’ll let you know the specific dates and times as soon as I can – probably tomorrow, but if not, then definitely the day after.”

She replied with an indulgent smile and a brisk nod.

He made a final checkmark, scribbled a brief note to himself, then set his clipboard aside and beamed a smile at his team. “You’ve all been excellent apprentices for the past several months, and I really appreciate your willingness to take on greater responsibilities. It means a lot to me. I’ll never forget it.”

“We’re happy to help out.” Rafael spoke for the group. “You’ve trained us well, and we can handle this new assignment.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Sarah assured him. “These young people have really taken to your training. And as for me –” She laughed as she patted her old friend on the arm. “– after all my years here, I should know enough about the codes to help keep things running smoothly. If I didn’t think I could do it, I wouldn’t have volunteered for the job.”

“And you’ve been great at it – you all have! I didn’t mean any criticism,” Pascal protested. “It’s just that – well, I just need to be sure.” A slight blush tinged his face. “You know how I am about the pipes…”

“Yeah, we know!”

The chorus of voices made him grin.

Sarah tilted her head toward the teenager perched on the desk next to her. “And Zach’s going to drop by during those scattered time slots, too, whenever he’s not in class or doing other chores. So, we’ve got everything covered.”

Pascal exhaled a sigh that seemed to whoosh up from the soles of his booted feet. “Then, I think – no, I know – we’re all set.” But seconds later, a familiar frown began to crease his forehead. “Aren’t we?”

Jamie rolled her eyes even as she gave him a warm smile. “We’re ready, Pascal! You don’t have to worry.”

“She’s right,” Ian added. “In fact, your only problem is going to be figuring out how to spend your free time – especially since you haven’t had much of it over the years.

“This is a pretty unusual situation for me.” Pascal nodded as if seriously contemplating a problem he needed to solve. “Sounds like I have a lot to think about.”

“Everything will be fine,” Rafael reassured him. “We all know our roles to play, and we won’t give you anything to be concerned about.”

“I really appreciate it – more than I can say.”

Zach jumped up and headed toward the chamber entrance. “I’m starving! Anyone want to come with me and see if we can score a snack before dinner?”

Ian laughed. “I’m in – as long as you have a plan for doing it without getting William mad at us.”

As the friends filed through the doorway, Zach spun back. “Want me to bring you a couple of cookies or something, Pascal?”

He shook his head. “Thanks, but I can wait for dinner. I’ve got a few things I need to go over.”

“Okay – see you later!”

As the footsteps faded, Pascal glanced toward the top drawer of his desk and pictured the object locked safely within. He felt another twinge of guilt at having been less than forthcoming with his friends for the past six weeks. He’d always been considered ‘honest Pascal’, but there had been no other options open to him, and he counted himself lucky he’d been able to get away with his scheme for as long as he had.

Of course, there had been a few close calls when he’d had to increase the hours of his youngest apprentices, Jamie and Zach, without actually explaining the reason for it, especially since they’d both be missing a few classes. And if anyone had noticed a pattern in his unprecedented absences from his duties, they’d chosen not to mention it to him. But he wondered if they’d talked among themselves – or to Father.

He felt a prickling along his spine. That would be all he needed. Everyone knew if Father became especially annoyed at someone, it was difficult for the culprit to escape the serpent’s tongue. He sighed heavily. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and no one could truly call him a liar, but he couldn’t find a way to be comfortable with his subterfuge.

Maybe he should have found at least one person in whom he could confide. He pictured himself taking the hand of a friend – perhaps Vincent or Jamie or Ian – and making amends for his duplicity. “But,” he whispered, “if they found out, they might think I’m a fool or – even worse – that I’m being weak and idle for neglecting my work…all for a dream.”

Another sigh rasped from his throat, and he reached for a flask of warm, soothing lemon-flavored tea. But how could he tell them now after several weeks had passed and he hadn’t said a word? No, it was too late for that. He’d only offend them, hurt their feelings for making it seem as if he couldn’t trust them. As he swallowed, he reminded himself that it was better to remain circumspect. After all, some secrets simply could not be shared. Not yet, maybe never.

He carefully capped the container, then unlocked the desk drawer to remove a notebook clasping a sheaf of papers. He couldn’t see the secret smile blossoming on his face, but he knew it was there.

* * *

Father frowned as he surveyed the rapidly filling dining chamber. “Do either of you have any idea where Pascal is?” He placed a folder on the table. “I want to go over the revisions he’s requested in the schedule for the next six weeks.”

Vincent swallowed a mouthful of pasta, then twisted his neck to scan the group gathered for dinner. “No, I’m sorry, Father, I don’t know why he’s not here. I’m surprised, though, since William’s lasagna is a favorite of his.”

“This is at least the seventh dinner he’s missed in the past few weeks. It’s not like him.” Father draped his napkin across his lap. “I hope nothing’s amiss.”

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” Mary said. “He probably asked for a tray to be brought to him while he’s working. It wouldn’t be the first time.” She glanced toward Father, then added quickly, “You know how seriously he takes his responsibilities. I think he’d sleep in the Pipe Chamber if he could.”

Her intervention did not have the desired effect. “Well, that’s just it, Mary. He’s asked for quite a lot of increased coverage in the evenings for the foreseeable future without offering anything but the most vague reasons for it. And that is decidedly not like the Pascal we know.” His frown deepened. “I’ve never had cause to doubt his sense of responsibility. He’s always been so dependable and trustworthy, one of the most hardworking members of our community.”

“Then, isn’t that reason enough for him to deserve a break from his work?” Vincent countered. “As you said, Pascal has given so much to our world and never asked for accommodations to be made for his sake. He owes us nothing, not even an explanation for wanting some time for himself.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Father huffed a sigh. “I’m not saying I disapprove of his request or that there’s anything reprehensible involved.” He shrugged and reached for his fork. “It just seems a bit odd is all.”

Mary claimed the last slice of garlic bread and held up the empty basket. “Shall I go get some more?”

Vincent rose to his feet. “I’ll do it. Ian is on kitchen duty tonight. Maybe he knows something more about Pascal.” He took the basket from Mary’s hands. “But I’m not going to push him for information. If there’s something Pascal wants to keep to himself, then we need to respect his right to do so.”

“Of course, of course,” Father blustered. “I wouldn’t dream of prying.”

As he focused on his meal, Mary and Vincent exchanged a glance and a shared thought. If Father succeeded in his mission, regardless of his claim otherwise, they could only hope Pascal would escape with his dignity and any possible secrets intact. 

* * *

Having managed to dodge any potential inquiries for two more days, and after securing Sarah’s promise to fill in for a few hours, Pascal scurried along the passageways, notebook under his arm. He glanced at the scratched and slightly dented brass watch he always wore on his wrist. It had been left to him by his father, its gold plating all but worn completely away. He smiled at the familiar sight and gentle weight of it. It was as if his father were at his side during this unprecedented journey, just as he seemed to be throughout every ordinary day in the Pipe Chamber.

He increased his pace, feeling a slight sheen of sweat begin to coat his back under a faded blue Henley t-shirt. He should have spent more time working out, or at least taken longer walks each day. His fingers twitched as he undid the top two buttons on the shirt’s placket and pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. Without his usual layers of tunics and sweaters, the cool tunnel air seeped in to soothe his skin. 

He still felt guilty for the lie he’d told Sarah and Mary when they’d caught him rummaging through bags of newly donated clothing. Only their innate kindness had kept them from questioning his blatantly fabricated excuse of needing some old pieces of cotton and flannel to polish some of the pipes. He couldn’t help wincing just thinking of it again. Since then, he’d laundered the garments himself, hanging them to dry in the far reaches of the pipe chamber, hoping neither woman would recognize the items should they see him clad in clothing he usually never wore.

Several more hurried steps took him past Cullen’s chamber. He thought to stop for a moment, but there wasn’t enough time, and no lights gleamed from the workshop. Besides, it would be best not to further stir up the woodcarver’s suspicions. The two men had never been close, and Pascal wished there had been another way to secure the documents he’d needed. Stopping by now for what would appear to be a casual chat would just complicate matters.

He patted the wallet deep in the pocket of his jeans, keeping safe the fake ID, union card, and Social Security number secured there. No, he didn’t have to worry about Cullen making comments or asking questions. He had secrets of his own, and he wouldn’t want to draw attention to the fact he still maintained a few dubious connections from his former life Above.

In minutes he arrived at the portal to a little used, largely forgotten exit into the park. Slightly winded, he paused to take deep cleansing breaths, wipe a few drops of perspiration from his brow, and mutter a few key phrases. Then, notebook in hand, he emerged into the sparkling sunlight of a summer afternoon.

* * *

“William is keeping your dinner warm for you.” Jamie reached for the clipboard Sarah was ready to pass to her. She quickly scanned the notes the older woman had made. “So, everything went well for the past few hours?”

“No problems at all.” She paused in the entryway. “If you need me, I’ll be in my chamber after dinner. Have some mending to do, but I can spell you if you need it.”

“Thanks, Sarah, that’s very kind of you, but I think we’ll be fine.” Rafael grinned at her. “But we can always send you an SOS on the pipes.”

She smacked him lightly on the arm as she exited the chamber. “Here’s hoping you won’t have to!”

“I’m kind of enjoying taking on this responsibility, even though it’s only been two nights,” Jamie said. “How about you?”

“I agree. We’ve done a good job so far – no major mistakes at all. But something’s been bothering me. Has Father asked you any questions about Pascal?” He waved his hand to delay Jamie’s response as he rapped out a brief staccato message on the pipes. “Like what he’s been doing with his free time.”

“Yes, two mornings ago at breakfast and then again when I passed him in the hallway on the way over here. Why – has he been asking you, too?”

“Yeah, a few nights ago after dinner and then yesterday when I was looking for a book in the library loft.”

Jamie hefted a length of aluminum pipe, then rejected it for a shorter, sturdier piece of galvanized steel. “Did you tell him anything?”

Rafael frowned at her. “No, of course not. Whatever Pascal is up to is his concern and it’s his right to share it or not. Besides, I have no idea what he’s doing…Do you?”

Her hair swept across her shoulders as she shook her head, and she pulled a hair tie from her pocket to secure it in a ponytail. “No, but –” She felt her cheeks blush a bit. “I have sort of been wondering.”

“Me, too.” He laughed and added, “The other day I saw him heading for a passageway that leads to some of the outer tunnels, ones hardly anyone uses anymore. I almost called to him, but – you know – none of our business what’s going on. Right?”

“I guess…”

He tapped back a ‘message received’ code to reply to the sentries’ hourly update, then looked closely at Jamie’s none-too-innocent expression. “Okay, what have you got? You know something and you might as well share it.”

She scowled at him. “I don’t know anything – I just, well, I sort of suspect.” She glanced around their section of the vast pipe-filled chamber. “Okay, but don’t tell anyone else. Swear to it!”

Rafael rested a hand over his heart. “I swear. Now what are you thinking?”

“I think Pascal has a girlfriend. Someone he met Above and he’s been sneaking out to see her.”

“I suppose it’s possible, but what gave you that idea?”

“It was when I stopped by a few days ago to tell him I was free to help fill in at some of those odd hours, you know, if Sarah or Zach couldn’t make it. He was sitting at his desk, going over something in a notebook, and I guess he didn’t hear me come in. He was talking to himself really quietly, and I heard him say the name Helena.”

“You think maybe he’d written her a letter and he was reading it over before sending it to her?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I thought! When he finally saw me, he slammed the notebook shut and shoved it in his desk drawer.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I just pretended like I hadn’t noticed anything unusual. Then – oh wait, hold on.”

She tapped out a rapid acknowledgement of Kanin’s announcement that he was going Above to pick up supplies from a Helper’s hardware shop. “He didn’t say anything even though I’m sure he knew I saw what he was doing and heard what he said. That’s all I know, and I could be totally wrong about everything.”

“I don’t know, Jamie. I think you could be right. When I saw him, he was wearing topsider clothing, and those tunnels can lead to a park entrance. Maybe he had a date with Helena.”

Jamie smiled at the thought. “You know, I hope we’re right. Pascal is almost always on his own. I just assumed that’s the way he likes things, but maybe he’s been lonely and this is a chance for some real happiness for him.”

“Yeah, I like the sound of that. And maybe one of these days, he’ll tell us what’s going on.”

“It would be great to meet Helena. I bet she’s very nice. Hey, I wonder how they met in the first place.”

“Maybe it was up in the park. Pascal likes to go up to walk once and a while. I think he takes a book with him sometimes.”

Jamie’s smile grew. “And maybe he has a favorite bench where he likes to sit. And one day Helena was there and –”

The two friends looked at each other and began to laugh. “You know what some people would say if they’d heard us talking,” Rafael said, rolling his eyes.

She grinned at him. “Get a life?”

“Probably.” He grinned back at her. “And I suppose we should stop gossiping about a friend.”

“You’re right, but…” The two exchanged a conspiratorial look. “I told you what I know, so if you hear anything else, you’ll tell me, right?”

He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Sure, as long as you promise to keep me updated, too.”

She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “It’s a deal. But we won’t say a word to anyone else, especially not to Father.”

“Agreed. Now let’s get back to work or we’re going to be explaining to him why we messed up some messages.”

* * *

“Vincent, do you have a minute?” Father plopped himself down in the chair opposite his son in a corner of the library. “I’m sorry to disturb your work, but I wish to speak to you about something.”

Vincent placed a bookmark in a weighty volume of British history. “Of course, Father. I was just researching some information on the Wars of the Roses for the intermediate students’ class tomorrow afternoon. We’re about to begin a study of Richard III.”

Father smiled fondly at the book. “The man or the play?”

“Both. I feel it’s important to provide some background information before studying any of Shakespeare’s histories.”

“I quite agree.” A sudden frown replaced his jovial smile. “But now to the matter at hand. It’s the situation I spoke of at dinner a few nights ago. I’ve been meaning to follow up on it, but just haven’t had a moment until now.”

“What situation is that?” Vincent hoped his expression was as vague as he intended it to appear. In a matter of seconds, he knew it wasn’t.

“You know very well what I’m referring to – Pascal’s unusual use of time over the past few weeks. And, I might add, the fact that it – whatever it is – apparently will continue for another five weeks as of tonight.”

When his son remained silent, Father felt flickers of annoyance fan to flames. “Well, have you talked with him? Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No, Father, to both your questions.” He reached for his pad and pen, then began to re-open his book.

“Vincent, I need your help resolving this problem!”

He reached across the table and placed a firm hand on his father’s arm. “If and when there is a problem to be resolved – and I’m not saying I agree with you that a problem even exists – it will have to be dealt with privately between Pascal and you. In the meantime, I hope everyone else in the community agrees with my feelings about the inappropriateness of indulging in gossip.”

“Gossip!” Father spluttered. “Gossip! I am not gossiping. I’m just – well, all I’m doing is trying to obtain some necessary information about a situation that could well cause serious concerns for the safety of our world.”

Vincent sighed heavily. “Then, here is the only information I can offer you. Pascal has shared nothing of his current activities with me. Whatever he is – or is not – doing is none of my business – or yours.” He raised his hand to forestall what was sure to be a rebuttal. “And as I told you before, I am not going to pry into a friend’s private affairs.”

Father’s eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline. “That’s what’s going on? He’s having an affair?! With whom, may I ask – and why was I not informed of this?”

It took several minutes for Vincent to pull enough air into his lungs to breathe easily again. “Father, are you even listening to yourself? At all?”

The two men stared at one another, then slow-growing grins erupted into shared laughter. Father felt a shameful warmth blush his face. “If I had been listening, I suppose I would have heard someone indulging in inappropriate, rather foolish gossip. And I should conclude from that observation, such behavior must cease immediately and return to other matters which better suit one’s time and effort.”

“I cannot disagree with any of that.” Vincent tried to wipe a satisfied smile from his face. He reached again for the abandoned history book. “And now, if we’re settled on that solution, I should get back to work.” 

Father pushed himself to his feet. “I think that would be best.” He made his way to a doorway to the chamber, then turned back for a moment. “And we won’t speak of this to anyone else, will we?”

Vincent tilted his head as he felt the corners of his mouth quiver. “Of course not, Father. That would be gossiping.”

* * *

Ian and Zach had arrived right on time for the second night of their assignment. Pascal breathed another grateful sigh of relief as he sped along a now familiar route winding through the tunnel world. Tonight it would all be worth it – all the worry, all the tension, all the juggling of time and telling – or refusing to tell. He would banish the underlying fear that a long-held desire at last pursued and won might still be no more yielding but a dream.

“Hurry!” he muttered aloud. “This must be done with haste or else, for night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, and yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger!” He leaped over a jagged crackling of broken paving stone. “I go, I go; look how I go, swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow!’

He allowed himself a dramatic interpretation of an archer releasing an arrow, and nearly tripped over an unnoticed chunk of rock. A few stumbling steps and a missed heartbeat or two slowed him, and he muttered, “Careful, Pascal, or you’re going to break a leg – literally. Stay focused! You can do this!”   

He glanced at his naked wrist. He wished he could have worn his father’s watch, but still he sensed that comforting presence, supporting his son in the attainment of a precious goal. He could almost hear his father speaking to him in the words of another, echoing lines he himself had repeated countless times during the past several weeks.

“I’ll follow you, I’ll lead you about a round, through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier.”

He’d had to keep secrets from even his dearest, most trusted friends, but the shadow of his beloved father made him feel he wasn’t truly alone. That someone dear to him was there to approve and applaud the culmination of his heartfelt hopes and secret ambitions.

He reached the portal, and with a hand that trembled only slightly, he unlocked and opened the gate to emerge into the gathering dusk of a June night. His heart pounded when he blended with a lively throng all heading in the same direction as he. And then, a curious, welcome sense of calmness surrounded and cradled him. He broke from the flowing crowd and strode down another path toward a guard protecting a door that would open onto a world of dreams.

* * *

Catherine consulted her watch for the fourth time in three minutes. “Where is he?” she murmured. “He’s going to miss the first act.”

Seconds later, Vincent rushed in and collapsed out of breath onto cushions in a secret chamber they’d recently discovered under the Delacorte Theater.

“Don’t worry – it hasn’t started yet.” She nestled against him, already savoring the pleasure of being with the man she loved, even more than the enjoyment of opening night at the latest Shakespeare in the Park production. “You’re never late for anything. What happened? Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine.” He settled his arm around her shoulders and dropped a light kiss to the crown of her head. “Pascal has been requesting a lot of time off lately, and I wanted to warn him that Father – although he’s promised otherwise – is intent on finding the reasons for it.”

“Is that really any of Father’s business?”

“No, but since when does that make a difference?”

They shared a laugh as they cuddled closer.

“So, did you find Pascal and let him know what Father’s up to?”

He shook his head, sending a silk of bronze and gold swishing across her cheek. “No, and that’s why I’m late. He skipped dinner again tonight, and when I went to the Pipe Chamber, Ian and Zach were on duty. There was no sign of Pascal, and they had no idea where he was.”

“That’s not like him. I hope nothing’s wrong and– oh, listen! It’s starting.”

They drifted in the shared pleasure of timeless poetry and prose, underscored by a slow but certain surge of passion. Before long, the bard’s words were mere background music to the thrumming of their bond, an accompaniment to a cascade of breathless kisses, soft moans, quivering caresses…

Until Act 2, Scene 1. Puck’s entrance.

“How now, spirit! Whither wander you?”

Their lips jerked apart. They gulped in great breaths of air as they stared at each other in wide-eyed shock. They shook their heads as if the voice they heard must be some theatrically created form of auditory hallucination.

“Is that –” Vincent stammered. “It sounded like –”

“It can’t be!”

They froze in each other’s arms, able to do nothing more than stare upwards until the same familiar – yet somehow transformed – voice filtered down again from the stage of the open-air amphitheater.

“The King doth keep his revels here tonight.
Take heed the Queen come not within his sight,
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath
Because that she, as her attendant, hath
A lovely boy stolen from an Indian king;
She never had so sweet a changeling.
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild…”

Her voice was a quiet gasp. “But – but– how is this possible?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

The actor’s voice continued,

“Thou speakest aright.
I am that merry wanderer of the night…”

She shook her head hard. “No, really, it can’t be!”

“I think it is.”

Sharing smiles and sighs, they leaned back onto the cushions and held each other in quiet, wondrous joy at discovering a dear friend’s midsummer night’s dream had come true.

__________

Author’s note: If you have some free time and the inclination to do a little detective work, you might enjoy looking up Puck’s principal speeches and lines from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’ve formatted direct quotes from the play in italics, but have incorporated throughout the story other (unitalicized) phrases and references to one of Shakespeare’s most beloved comedies, along with more of Puck’s dialogue. I felt it would add a perspective on Pascal’s sense of humor and his sense of himself. I’ve always thought there was much more to our pipe master than meets the eye. Or, as Shakespeare might have called him, “that merry wanderer of the night”.