Winter Oranges

  “Are you okay?” Jason asked.

  Ben laughed in exasperation. “I’m fine. You’re the one in the hospital.”

  “I’m sorry I worried you.”

  Ben perched an inch or two from the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

  “They don’t know yet. They’re running tests.”

  “But they must have theories.”

  “They do. They’re talking epilepsy, or ministroke, or maybe an aneurysm—”

  “Oh my God!” Ben clapped his hands dramatically to his face and jumped up from the bed. “You could have died! Oh Jason, this is all my fault.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “It is! Don’t you see? It’s the globe! Both times you’ve come inside, this has happened—”

  “That doesn’t make it your fault.”

  Ben threw up his hands and disappeared again, and Jason wound the globe and patiently waited for him to come back. It didn’t take long, but it was clear Ben was fighting hard to keep himself together.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Jason told him before Ben could start ranting again. “I’ll be home in a day or two, and then everything will be back to normal.”

  Ben shook his head. “You can’t come in again.”

  “Sure I can.”

  “No.” Ben’s voice shook, and his chin quivered, but he clenched his fists and pushed on. “It was wonderful, and I hate knowing that was the last time, but you can’t risk it.”

  “We don’t know that the globe caused it.”

  “Don’t be stupid, of course we do! Both times—”

  “Okay,” Jason conceded, patting the air in Ben’s general direction before he got too flustered and vanished. “Okay. You’re right. The globe probably has something to do with it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t come back. And anyway, it’s my risk to take.”

  “Your risk? So I have no say in it? Don’t you think I’d rather have you alive? Do you have any idea what it would do to me to lose you now? Do you really think I want you to risk your life just so we can—”

  “That’s not what I meant. The first time I came in, I was there for about two hours. And that headache hurt, but it was manageable. This time, I was there over four hours. And yeah, that was obviously too much. But if we keep the visits short—two hours max—then it’ll be fine.”

  But Ben was already shaking his head. “No. You’re assuming too much based on too little data. What if the problem is escalating? What if each visit aggravates it or makes you weaker? Your first time in the globe, you had a minor reaction. Your second time, you had a major reaction. What if the third time kills you?”

  Jason chewed his lip, considering. Ben was right. His hypothesis was every bit as realistic as Jason’s. It was also possible they were both right—that whatever went wrong was both time-sensitive and accumulative. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “We don’t have to decide anything right now.”

  Ben sighed and nodded, touching his fingertips to his lips. Jason suspected he was trying hard not to cry. “I was so scared, Jason. I don’t know when I’ve ever been that scared or felt that useless.”

  “I had a feeling that would be the case. That’s why I had the sheriff bring you here.” He held out his hand, and Ben came nearer and sat on the edge of his bed. “But you can stop worrying now. I’m fine.”

  Ben nodded mutely, his image flickering.

  “Did you sleep at all?” Jason asked.

  Ben shook his head. “I wanted to be there if you came back. Or if anybody came back. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Jason reached for him, hating that he couldn’t touch him. He settled for touching the bedspread near Ben’s knee. “You should get some rest.”

  “What if something goes wrong and I miss it?”

  “Nothing’s going to happen. They’ll be taking me later for an MRI and God knows what else, and then I’ll be stuck here all night. You may as well sleep now, and we can talk again later.” He gestured at the TV and did his best to smile. “Maybe we can watch a movie.”

  Ben’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I can’t do anything here anyway. I’m as useless now as I was before.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know. But it’s true.”

  “You help just by being here, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t rest for a bit.”

  Ben sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m being childish. I promise I’ll be less jaded when I’m not so tired.”

  “I know. All the more reason you should sleep.”

  Ben lingered a bit longer, but finally agreed to return to the globe and rest when Jason’s nurse showed up to take him for “additional testing,” which took hours. His cell phone was ringing when he returned to his room. A glance at his screen showed eight missed calls, with the current one being from Dylan. Jason answered with more than a little trepidation.

  “Hello?”

  “Jason!” Dylan sounded half-exasperated, half-relieved. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “StarWatch reported you were hospitalized last night. Is it true?”

  “Shit.” He covered his eyes with his hand. “It’s true, but I’m fine, I swear.”

  “What the hell, Jase? I just left, and you’re already falling apart! I knew I should have stayed.”

  “You’re making a huge fuss over nothing.”

  “Like hell I am. I’m coming up there. I can be there by tonight.”

  “Dylan, stop. Aren’t you working this week?”

  Dylan cussed for a moment, and Jason waited. “It doesn’t matter,” Dylan said at last. “I can quit. I’ll tell them there was an emergency.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I swear to you, it’s not an emergency, and you can’t walk out in the middle of a shoot.”

  Dylan sighed, but it sounded a bit like an agreement. “What happened?”

  “I was napping. I was a bit worn out, and I still felt like maybe I was coming down with something, so after you left I went back to bed, but the doorbell woke me up. I jumped up so fast, I got a bit of a head rush and fell down the stairs.” It was amazing how easy the lies came. “The sheriff saw it through the window and overreacted and called for an ambulance. The doctors diagnosed me with a raging sinus infection and a bump on the head. They kept me overnight in case of a concussion, but they’ve ruled that out. I’ll be home as soon as they finish the paperwork.”

  “You’re sure? You swear to me it’s nothing more serious than that?”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay.” Dylan sounded calmer. That was good. “What was the sheriff doing at your house, anyway?”

  “She came to tell me she’d caught a photographer sneaking onto my property.”

  “‘She’? The sheriff’s a woman?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Interesting.” Jason could practically hear the gears shifting in Dylan’s head. “Is she hot?”

  “I don’t know. I guess.”

  “You guess? How can you not know if she’s hot?”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you right now.”

  “I’m just asking—”

  “I’ll introduce you next time you’re in town.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Jason’s phone beeped as another call came in. He was glad for a reason to end their conversation. “I have to go. Natalie’s calling. I’ll talk to you later, all right? Good luck on the shoot.”

  Natalie was far less suspicious and accepted his sinus infection story right off the bat. She advised him to get plenty of rest. Jason assured her he would. He browsed through his missed calls after hanging up. One had been from Natalie. The rest had been Dylan. He counted himself lucky he’d answered when he had. He had a feeling another couple of unanswered calls would have had Dylan back in Idaho by sundown.

  Despite the many tests they’d run, the medical staff remained stumped.


  “This incident has all the markings of a mild brain hemorrhage,” the lead physician on his case told him early the next morning.

  Ben, who was standing next to Jason’s bed unseen by everybody but Jason, clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with horror.

  Jason couldn’t blame him. The words scared him too. “That sounds serious.”

  “It certainly can be. But the CT scan and MRI are both negative.” The doctor shook his head and held his hands up. “Honestly, I still think that’s what happened, but the evidence doesn’t back me up.”

  The final remnants of Jason’s headache had disappeared overnight as well. By all accounts, there wasn’t a single thing wrong with him, so the hospital released him later that day to Sheriff Ross, who drove him home. By four o’clock, he was back on his couch, Ben cuddled against his side.

  “I hope the media doesn’t report how long I was in the hospital. And I really hope they don’t get wind of the doctor’s brain hemorrhage suspicions. Dylan’d never forgive me. He’d be pounding on our front door by nightfall.”

  He meant it as a joke, but the look Ben gave him was solemn. “He’s bound to come back eventually.”

  “I know.”

  “What will you do then?”

  Jason didn’t have an answer.

  It seemed Dylan hadn’t heard about either the extended hospital stay or the suspected diagnosis. He called twice to check on Jason and to report that he’d been offered another short-term part on a TV show. Jason was a bit relieved to know that Dylan would be stuck in Hollywood for a while.

  Linda Casteel called on the first day of December. Jason’s heart lurched into high gear when he saw her name, hoping she’d have something useful to tell him. He put the phone on speaker so Ben could hear her too.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have good news,” she said.

  His heart fell. “Let me have it.”

  “I haven’t been able to find much of anything. I have birth records for Sarah and Ben, and a death certificate for the mother. I found evidence that their father sold the plantation after the war ended, but the trail goes cold there. I haven’t found documentation of a marriage or a death for any of them.”

  “What about Sarah’s fiancé?”

  “He was killed in the Battle of Memphis in June 1862. He was listed as unmarried at that time.”

  “They must have decided to wait until after the war to get married,” Ben said. “And then he died.”

  “Maybe she married somebody else,” Jason said to Ben, but of course it was Linda who answered.

  “It’s certainly possible, but I haven’t found anything yet.”

  “Is that it, then?” Jason asked. “End of the line?”

  “Not at all. Just a stumbling block. I’ll keep looking. I’ll broaden my search a bit. I’ll also keep tracing your lineage until I find an overlap. That’ll help.”

  “So there is hope?”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “But I have no idea how long it will take. It could be months. Maybe even as much as a couple of years.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” Ben said.

  Jason disagreed, but as frustrating as it was, his only option was to wait.

  The first week of December brought snow and icicles, and classic holiday movies Ben remembered but Jason had never seen. They spent evenings cuddled on the couch, but Jason’s mind was rarely on their on-screen entertainment. Instead, he found himself thinking about the future, dreaming of everything he and Ben could have, if only Ben were free. To this end, Jason spent the first few weeks testing the limits of the globe, despite Ben’s protests. It was the logical first step and therefore a necessary risk, in Jason’s mind at least. Still, he had no desire to end up back in the emergency room so he proceeded with caution. His first step was to begin entering the globe under controlled circumstances. He’d set the alarm on his phone before allowing himself to fall asleep with the globe in his hand.

  Five minutes wasn’t long enough. Neither was ten. Fifteen to twenty minutes gave him just enough time to enter and spend a minute or two with Ben before being roused. This, combined with a bit of research, led him to the conclusion that he didn’t enter the globe until he reached stage three of non-REM sleep. Whether or not getting all the way to REM made any difference in the overall process he didn’t know and didn’t dare test, since it would have meant straying a lot closer to the two-hour mark. As it was, one twenty-minute nap a day left him groggy for an hour or two, but didn’t create any significant pain or discomfort upon waking.

  Ben didn’t approve. When they were on Jason’s side of the globe, they continued as usual—going for walks, watching TV, and expanding on their “practice”­—but inside the globe, Ben refused to interact with Jason at all. He worried Jason would get distracted and stay too long, and so he’d sit on the couch with one of his blank books and do his best to give Jason the silent treatment.

  Jason took it as just one more challenge presented by the globe.

  Once he’d determined how long he could stay, he began experimenting with whether he could bring anything out with him. If one were to believe A Nightmare on Elm Street, Jason needed only to have Ben in his arms when he awoke to bring him out, but he already knew that didn’t work with Ben. It didn’t take long to prove it didn’t work with anything from the globe, either. No matter what he held in his hands when his alarm went off—whether a piece of Ben’s clothing or one of his books or a handful of pseudo snow—it was never there once he woke up.

  Next, he began experimenting with what he could take in. He always appeared in the globe wearing whatever clothes he’d worn falling asleep. Once, he stripped naked in Ben’s cabin—he was a bit disappointed when this wasn’t enough to dissuade Ben from ignoring him—but when his alarm went off, he woke in his bed with all his clothes still on his body. Ben reported that the clothing on his floor had disappeared along with Jason.

  Knowing he could take his clothes in, he assumed it’d be easy to take other things as well, but it wasn’t. He tried stashing things in his pockets to no avail. They were always gone once he reached Ben’s cabin. It drove him crazy. It made no sense at all. How could the globe distinguish clothing from any other item? It made absolutely no sense, but being incensed over the irrationality of it made no difference. Nothing he did changed the results. He tried putting a Life Saver in his mouth before he fell asleep, hoping as he did that he didn’t end up choking on it. The Life Saver didn’t make it into the globe, but the candy trick proved beneficial. Ben could smell it, and once he did, he couldn’t stop himself from tasting it too. And unlike the orange juice, the flavor seemed to last, presumably because back in the real world, the Life Saver hadn’t yet dissolved.

  That meant Ben kissed him for a long, long time.

  “What is that flavor?” he asked when he finally pulled away. “I can’t figure it out.”

  Jason was thrilled something as simple as a bit of candy had forced Ben not only to stop ignoring him, but to kiss him too. He was tempted to see how far Ben’s sudden acceptance would take him, but he knew his alarm would be waking him soon. “I think it’s supposed to be pineapple.”

  “What other flavors are there?”

  “Orange, watermelon, cherry—”

  “Cherry!” Ben said, clapping his hands. “Bring me cherry next time!”

  It was a request Jason couldn’t refuse.

  But the Life Saver did more than end Ben’s glowering disapproval of Jason’s experiments. It proved that the only things he could take in were intangibles, namely tastes and odors. He tried dousing himself with aftershave before his nap a few days later. Not only did the scent travel inside with him, Ben reported it lingered long after Jason had left.

  It wasn’t all fun though, and by mid-December, Jason was becoming frustrated with the entire process. Other than learning that Ben liked Life Savers, he had little to show for his many naps. And although the headaches hadn’t returned, he couldn’t shake the suspicion t
hat he was doing some kind of damage by entering the globe so frequently. What if every minute inside weakened a blood vessel in his brain? And what would happen to Ben if Jason died? Nobody else knew he existed. Jason knew Ben’s mental state was as risk, and if he needed any further evidence of this, he needed seek no farther than Ben himself.

  Ben had grown more accepting of Jason’s naps. He still didn’t allow more than a kiss or two, for fear Jason would linger too long, but to some extent, he’d even begun anticipating Jason’s visits, wondering what new flavor or scent Jason would bring him, but it came at a cost. Jason couldn’t put his finger on it. Ben put up a good front, laughing and smiling as he had before, but Jason sensed an underlying fragility that was new. He quickly shut Jason down anytime he started to talk about their future. More and more often, Ben asked Jason to take the globe outside so he could wander through the woods. Sometimes he let Jason accompany him. Other times, he insisted on going alone.

  A few days before Christmas, Jason took Ben to town to buy a tree, hoping it would cheer him up. He wrapped the globe in bubble wrap and stuck it in a gift bag. He took the added precaution of sticking his Bluetooth earpiece in his ear so he wouldn’t look like he was talking to himself, and they walked side by side through the rows of cut evergreens.

  “Tell me about your Christmases,” Jason said. He’d realized after Thanksgiving that his knowledge of nineteenth-century holidays was sorely lacking. “Did people have Christmas trees back then?”

  “Most people did.”

  “Including you?”

  “Yes. We didn’t have store-bought decorations though.”

  “What did you use?”