George Chesbro: The Fear In Yesterday's rings

I didn't much care, as long as the military-ours or anyone else's-didn't get hold of them. Or the CIA. Or anyone else who would use them to kill.

"We're going to be married, of course, aren't we, Robby?"

Suddenly I felt light-headed, short of breath. "Say what?"

"You heard me. I just offered you a proposal of marriage."

"No, Harper, we're not going to be married."

"I'm serious, Robby. I love you, and I know you love me."

"I certainly do love you, Harper," I said, glancing around me at all the thousands of pairs of eyes following our progress. "But I can't marry you."

"Why not?"

"Wild things should stay wild."

"Are you talking about you or me?"

Suddenly I felt a lump in my throat. Not trusting myself to speak, I simply shook my head. I was, I realized, very happy- even if I couldn't marry Harper. She loved me, and I considered that a great gift.

Then Harper's arms tightened even more around my waist, and I could feel her lips against my right ear. She continued, "It's because you're a dwarf, isn't it?"

"Maybe," I said tightly, after a long pause.

"Oh, really, Robby," she said in an exasperated tone. "With all the remarkable things you've accomplished in your life, don't you think it's past time you stopped worrying about being a dwarf?"

"But I am a dwarf, Harper. It's not something you grow out of, if you'll pardon the expression."

"It's not what I meant, and you know it."

Suddenly I recalled the innumerable times Garth had joked- half seriously-about my constant need to overcompensate. He was right, of course. Certainly, if Robert Frederickson had not been born a dwarf, he would never have become Mongo the Magnificent. And the chances are that he would never have become a Ph.D. criminologist and college professor, earned a black belt in karate, or become a private investigator. Still, loving and being loved by a woman like Harper Rhys-Whitney in marriage was not an adventure I was ready for. I did not have the courage for that kind of undertaking and wondered if I ever would. But I did have the courage to give Harper-and myself- honesty.

"I'm afraid of you, Harper," I said evenly. "I'm more afraid of you than I ever was of Coyote and the other loboxes. A lobox might take my life, but you could take my soul. You wouldn't mean to, but it could happen. It would be something I might do to myself through insecurity and self-doubt. Precisely because you are so beautiful and so desirable, and because I love you so very much, I'm afraid of marrying you. It would make me even more vulnerable than I am. If I marry you, the first thought I'll have every morning when I wake up is that I'm a dwarf. I just don't have the courage it takes to accept love, Harper, and maybe I never will."

I thought-maybe hoped-she would argue with me. Instead, she squeezed me hard, said, "I think I understand."

"Thank you."

"Do you think that someday you might have the courage and good sense to make me happy by marrying me?"

"Maybe someday," I said carefully.

"So maybe I'll just hang around and wait. Hell, it's not much of a commute between Florida and New York, especially when you have your own plane, and I like the city almost as much as you do. Do you think you can handle it if we spend a lot of time together?"

I swallowed hard, managed to say, "That would … be just fine with me, Harper."

"Good," she said. Then she pulled my head back, leaned over my shoulder, and kissed me hard on the mouth. Mabel pivoted, and the crowd roared.