Paullina Simons: A Beggar’s Kingdom

“You have a lot of making up to do all around, especially after the crap you pulled at lunch the other week,” Julian said. “So shut up and take it.”

“Story of my life,” Ashton said.

“What kind of fun are we supposed to have with someone like that?” Zakiyyah said to Josephine. “His idea of fun is making fun of me.”

“He’s not making fun of you, Z. He’s teasing you.”

“That’s not teasing!”

“Shh, yes, it is. You’re driving everybody nuts,” Josephine said, and then louder to the men, “You’ll have to excuse her, Z is new to this. She’s never been to Disneyland.”

“What kind of a human being has never been to Disneyland?” Ashton whispered to Julian.

“That’s not true!” Zakiyyah said. “I went once with my cousins.”

“Sitting on a bench while the kids go on rides is not going to Disneyland, Z.”

Zakiyyah tutted. “Is there maybe a slow train ride?”

“How about It’s a Small World?” Ashton said, addressing Zakiyyah but facing Julian and widening his eyes into saucers. “It’s a slow boat ride.”

“That might be okay. As long as the boat is not in real water. Is it in real water?”

“No,” Ashton said. “The boat is in fake water.”

“Is that what you mean when you say he’s teasing me?” Zakiyyah said to Josephine. “You sure it’s not mocking me?”

“Positive, Z. It’s a world of laughter, a world of tears. Let’s go on It’s a Small World.”

After it got dark and the toddlers had left and the crowds died down a bit, the three of them convinced Zakiyyah to go on Space Mountain. She half-agreed but balked when she saw the four-man luge they were supposed to board. Josephine would sit in front of Julian, between his legs, and that meant that Zakiyyah would have to sit in front of Ashton, between his. “Can we try a different seating arrangement?” Z said.

“Like what?” Ashton kept his voice even.

“Like maybe the girls together and the boys together.”

“Jules, honey, what do you think?” Ashton asked, pitching his voice two octaves higher. “Would you like to sit between my legs, pumpkin, or do you want me between yours?”

“Z, come on,” Josephine said. “Don’t make that face. Ashton’s right. Get in. It’s one ride. You’ll love it. Just …”

“Instead of you sitting in front of me,” Ashton said to Zakiyyah, as cordial as could be, “would you prefer I sit in front of you?”

“You want to sit between my open legs?” Zakiyyah’s disbelieving tone was not even close to cordial.

“Just making suggestions, trying to be helpful.”

“Aside from other issues, I won’t be able to see anything,” Zakiyyah said. “You’re too tall. You’ll be blocking my view the whole ride.”

Ashton knocked into Julian as they were about to board. “Dude,” he whispered, “you haven’t told her Space Mountain is a black hole with nothing to see?”

“We haven’t even told her it’s a roller coaster,” Julian said. “You want her to go on the ride, or don’t you?”

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

They climbed in, Ashton and Julian first, then the girls in front of them. Zakiyyah tried to sit forward as much as possible, but the bench was narrow and short. Her hips fitted between Ashton’s splayed legs.

“Can you open your legs any wider?” she said.

“Said the bishop to the barmaid,” said Ashton.

“Josephine! Your friend’s friend is making inappropriate remarks to me.”

“Yes, they’re called jokes,” Ashton said.

“They’re most certainly not jokes because jokes are funny. People laugh at jokes. Did you hear anyone laughing?”

Zakiyyah sat primly, holding her purse in her lap.

Ashton shook his head, sighed. “Um, why don’t you put your bag down below, maybe hold on to the grip bars.”

“I’m fine just the way I am, thank you,” she said. “Don’t move too close.”

“Not to worry.”

They were off.

Zakiyyah was thrown backwards—into Ashton’s chest. Her hips locked inside Ashton’s legs. The purse dropped into the footwell. Seizing the handlebars, she screamed for two minutes in the cavernous dome.

When it was over, Julian helped a shaky Zakiyyah out, Josephine already on the platform, jumping and clapping. “Z! How was it? Did you love it, Z?”

“Did I love being terrified? Why didn’t you tell me it was a rollercoaster in pitch black?”

They had a ride photo made of the four of them: Zakiyyah’s mouth gaping open, her eyes huge, the other three exhilarated and laughing. They gave it to her as a keepsake of her first time on Space Mountain, a real artifact from an imaginary place.

“Maybe next time we can try Peter Pan,” Ashton said as they were leaving the park after the fireworks.

“Who says there’s going to be a next time?” said Zakiyyah.

“Thank you for making this happen,” Josephine whispered to Julian in the parking lot, wrapping herself around his arm. “I know it didn’t seem like it, but she had fun. Though you know what didn’t help? Your Ashton pretending to be a jester. You should tell him you don’t have to try so hard when you look like a knight. Is he trying to be funny like you?”

“He’s both a jester and a knight without any help from me, believe me,” said Julian.

Josephine kissed him without breaking stride. “You get bonus points for today,” she said. “Wait until we get home.”

And other days, while she walked through Limbo past the violent heretics and rowed down the River Styx in Paradise in the Park , Julian drove around L.A. looking for new places where she might fall in love with him, like Disneyland. New places where his hands could touch her body. They strolled down Beverly and shopped for some costume jewelry, they sat at the Montage and whispered in nostalgia for the old Hotel Bel Age that overlooked the hills. He raised a glass to her in the Viper Room where not long ago someone young and beautiful died. Someone young and beautiful always died in L.A. And when the wind blew in from Laurel Canyon, she lay in his bed and drowned in his love and wished for coral trees and red gums, while Julian wished for nothing because everything had come.

But that was then.

“Gold enough stirring; choice of men, choice of hair, choice of beards, choice of legs, choice of everything.”

Thomas Dekker, The Humors of the Patient Man and the Longing Wife

ASHTON WAS AFFABLE BUT SKEPTICAL. “WHY DO WE NEED TO paint the apartment ourselves?”

“Because the work of one’s hands is the beginning of virtue,” Julian said, dipping the roller into the tray. “Don’t just stand there. Get cracking.”

“Who told you such nonsense?” Ashton continued to just stand there. “And you’re not listening. I meant, painting seems like a permanent improvement. Why are we painting at all? There’s no way, no how we’re staying in London another year, right? That’s just you being insane like always, or trying to save money on the lease, or … Jules? Tell the truth. Don’t baby me. I’m a grown man. I can take it. We’re not staying in London until the lease runs out in a year, right? That’s not why you’re painting?”

“Will you grab a roller? I’m almost done with my wall.”

“Answer my question!”

“Grab a roller!”

“Oh, God. What did I get myself into?”

But Julian knew: Ashton might believe a year in London was too long, but Julian knew for certain it wasn’t long enough.

Twelve months to move out of his old place on Hermit Street, and calm Mrs. Pallaver who cried when he left, even though he’d been a recluse tenant who had shunned her only child.