The next day, Patience walked around the streets of Haverston a shell of herself. Her body was simply a vessel for Anax to ambulate. Her mind was far away, buzzing with worry. The one thing to bring her back to the present every so often was Anax’s excitement seeing the new, larger town. His interest piqued when his eye caught sight of the public library. Reading the words carved into the stone facade, he immediately stopped Patience with a prod to her neck.

“A library … like the one in your house?”

“Yes,” said Patience.

“This building is the size of six of your houses! It must contain so many books!”

“But we don’t have time to go in and read a whole book or borrow one.”

“Borrow?”

Patience explained, “Public libraries like this will lend out books to people for a set amount of time.”

“Then let’s borrow some books.”

“Haverston is such a long way from home when we don’t have ready access to a vehicle. And you haven’t finished all the books we have at home yet!”

Anax grumbled.

“We could possibly make a trip back here for you to read in the future,” Patience mumbled. She continued to stroll down the sidewalk. The sooner they left sight of the building, the sooner it could exit Anax’s mind. There was no chance the girl would step foot inside. Teasing the skull with the massive collection would be too cruel.

“Why doesn’t Keaton have a library?”

“It’s too small. Well, they have records stored at town hall. It’s open to the public. You could peruse through those if you’d like.”

“Are they interesting?”

“They’ll tell you about the history of Keaton and the people living there.”

“I suppose that would be useful information if I am to continue living with you.”

If he was to continue living with her. Patience’s stomach twisted at the thought of Valon disrupting that. She rubbed her abdomen. Perhaps it was upset out of hunger as well. They had done a lot of walking and her last bite of food was hours ago.

As luck would have it, they stumbled across a drugstore down the block. Patience seated herself at the counter of the soda fountain. The soda jerk was kind enough to give her an extra scoop of ice cream in her cola float, the perfect refreshment to accompany her hot beef sandwich. When the soda jerk had his back to them, Anax snuck a tendril to taste the sandwich and fizzy drink.

Afterward they spent the entire afternoon discovering all that Wiggum’s department store had to offer. It was an excellent diversion. They began their expedition at the very top floor and worked their way down as they swept each section. Patience lingered the longest in the areas showcasing bedding, toys, and confections. Anax thoroughly browsed everything from jewelry to toiletries, granting each collection of products equal time. When they exhausted all the wares and finally exited the building, the sun had long retired.

Patience and Anax meandered through the large park, admiring the tall lamps illuminating the manicured lawns. Even at this hour, the park was alive with strolling couples. Reaching the other side, the electric dazzle of the theater called the girl. Alongside the moths zipping to the glowing bulbs, Patience found herself stepping into the warm light of the grand marquee. There were a few people loitering around, leftover from the last audience of the night. The carved doors were closed, the ticket booth shuttered. It was quiet, save for the electricity buzzing overhead.

Animated chattering broke the silence, a familiar voice among them. Patience turned to see a well-dressed group emerge from the adjacent alley. From its depths, Schuler broke free and waved to the girl.

“Patience! How was your day today?” Schuler advanced toward her, sweeping back his hair.

Patience returned a warm smile. “It was nice. We explored a bit, walked through Wiggum’s, around the park, and ended here admiring the theater.”

Beyond Schuler’s shoulder, she noticed one of his bandmates raise his head in their direction. To Patience’s chagrin, he came over.

“Schuler! Who’s this? Wait, I know!” Excitement bloomed in his boyish face. “You must be Patience!” he exclaimed, baring a toothy grin. “Schuler’s spoken a lot about you!”

“Patience, this is Whit, our bassist,” said Schuler, rolling his eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you, Whit,” Patience said shyly.

“Hey, we’re about to head to supper at Lang’s! You ought to join us!”

“I don’t think—” began Schuler.

“Come on! I insist! Our treat! It’s just so nice to finally meet you, Patience,” said Whit. By now the boyish man’s raised voice attracted the attention of the other band members. They began trickling over. Patience felt her face heat up and she shrank into her shoulders. Whit whirled around, his bronze hair flashing in the electric light.

“Hey, everyone! This is Patience! Schuler’s friend that he talks about!”

The men and women surrounded Patience, bombarding her with introductions, pleasantries, and invitations to supper. Clearly sensing the girl’s unease, Schuler tugged at his shirt collar. Patience whipped her head from one face to another, feeling quite overwhelmed. Then like an antelope at the mercy of lions, she capitulated.

“All right. I’ll come to supper with you all,” she squeaked.

Whit whooped aloud, “Wonderful! Let’s get going then!” He turned around and began herding the others in the direction of the restaurant. The band noisily followed, gossiping about theater actors and performers they had accompanied earlier that night. Patience straggled behind them with Schuler at her side.

“I’m sorry you got roped into all this,” he sighed. “Whit is a persistent one.”

“It’ll be fine,” said Patience as she dragged her feet. A tiny tendril stroked the back of her neck reassuringly.

The girl stared ahead at the band of merry musicians. Already their faces and names blurred together. The two that stood out were Minky and Amelia. Minky was the sort of woman who wore men’s suits. Her flaxen bun bobbed over the collar of her black waistcoat. Pale fingers curled around Amelia’s dark brown arm. Amelia nonchalantly ignored the attention of her companion. She was intent on holding up her lacey skirt from touching the ground.

The pair caught the eyes of civilian men on the streets, who whistled and called out to them. But the two women were safe in the formation of their surrounding bandmates. Patience sympathized with the couple. In a world unkind to those who were different, the outcasts were lucky to find each other and acceptance among a few people. The band was a little less intimidating to Patience now.

Lang’s was not far from the theater and, as Patience learned, was a frequented spot for the band after shows. The restaurant made its home in the right wing of a large brick building with a brewery occupying the remaining two-thirds of the square footage. It surrounded a large patio space on three sides. The front of the beer garden was open to the street, only a low fence and gate stood to segregate the space. It was here that their large group of nearly twenty was seated.

Patience hunched into her corner of the table. People surrounded her, yet she felt very alone. Her one connection was occupied by the prattling of an excited trumpeter gushing over his new niece. Minky and Amelia sat at the far end with Whit. Anax would occasionally make hushed quips about the musicians, but she dared not risk replying to him. These were Schuler’s people; she would hate to be an embarrassment.

The names of the musicians immediately nearby escaped her, and she was too bashful to ask them to repeat themselves. With no one to talk to, the girl filled her mouth with bread. This long table seated a group of tight-knit friends, people who had known each other for years. She did not belong here.

Nibbling on a piece of crust, Patience watched the restaurant staff attend the table. A young waitress accidentally kicked a violin case that had rested against one musician’s seat. She apologized profusely, though the violinist seemed more amused than irritated.

“Damn it, John. I don’t know why you have to bring your fiddle everywhere,” groaned a woman. Patience believed she introduced herself as Lenora or Laura but she could not recall her exact name or what instrument she played.

“Can’t let my baby outta my sight,” grunted John as he bent over to pick up the case. He opened it to inspect his instrument’s condition. “Plus, if I didn’t bring her, we can’t have an impromptu recital, can we?”

“And how many of those have you held the past week?” asked Amelia with a smirk.

“This’ll be the first,” snorted John, bringing the violin to his bearded chin. Immediately he struck out a vivacious tune.

“Oh, blast it!” sighed a man with enough hair to be mistaken for a bear at a distance. He bounced up on his feet and swept Lenora or Laura to his side.

“Frank! Not so fast this time!” she cried before he swung her into a teetering waltz.

Without much goading, others flowed out onto the patio, the music guiding their feet. Schuler rose from his seat as well. With a twinkle in his eye, he shot Patience a glance and nodded toward the dancing band. The girl demurely shrank away, pressing closer to her corner of the table.

“It’s all right,” he said with an understanding smile, “as long as you’re comfortable.”

Patience nodded, waving her hand to urge him to go and enjoy himself. Lenora or Laura, who had danced free of Frank, pulled Schuler into a swirling mass of his prancing companions.

As there were fewer women than there were men in the group, and Minky and Amelia chose each other as partners, the remaining men paired with each other. This did not seem like the first instance they all danced together. It was a joy to see. Regardless of their background, age, or skin, everyone was united in their mutual love for music. They exchanged bows and bouts of laughter. Patience imagined their entire tour out west to be like this, filled with merry camaraderie.

She watched Schuler dance. The years of seasonal manual labor filled his lithe frame well. Her heart warmed to see him so full of life and mirth. She wished to join him, but she had never been the best dancer. Everyone else seemed so well practiced. Patience was content being an audience, as was Anax.

After a couple of songs, the food came out to the table. The band’s energy continued well into their meal. They only slowed once everyone’s bellies were full, the cozy fat and juices of the meat just consumed seeping through their bodies. The bandmates relaxed and broke into several smaller groups to gossip or play cards. Schuler sat at the table with the poker game, casually staring at his dealt hand.

Whit pulled up a stool next to Patience. Brave enough to venture near the girl with a skull over her head, he won his seat. Whit flashed her a grin before lighting a cigarette. His boyish face seemed too young for it. However, he handled the cigarette with experienced dexterity, mindfully puffing the smoke away from Patience’s face. His warm demeanor invited the girl to broach conversation.

“Schuler mentioned you have a wife?” asked Patience.

“I certainly do,” he said with a smile.

“How was it for you two while you were away on tour?”

“Lemme tell ya, it was rough! I wrote Clara twice a month. And we’d also arrange for her to travel to one of the cities we stopped at thrice a year so we could see each other. Those were the weeks I’d look forward to each year! Forget holidays …”

Unprepared for the onslaught of words spewing from Whit, Patience simply nodded, taking the final bites of dumpling on her plate.

“Then when we got the offer to stay in Haverston, I sent her a telegram saying ‘Darling, we’re moving to Haverston!’ And within a week, she had all our things packed up and moved out of our apartment in Antimoire. She was looking forward to living in a smaller town. Luckily she had the help of her family while I was still on the road sorting things out. And I was lucky I had all these grand people with me!” He nodded to the smattering of bandmates littered around the patio. “They kept me distracted and sane while parted from my wife. Schuler in particular.”

Patience smiled knowingly.

“He’s a good guy! Became almost like a brother to me.” Whit puffed on his cigarette, eyes flitting to Patience momentarily. “For what it’s worth, Schuler told me all about his past sweethearts … but he never talked about any of them like how he talked about you.”

Patience’s face flushed. “Oh, I—”

At that moment, Schuler strolled over. He leaned against the table, the smell of alcohol wafting on his breath. “Whit treating you well?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

Patience nodded.

“Are you still enjoying yourself?”

“Oh, I’m just fine.” Patience shot him a wide grin, tilting her head to ensure it was apparent under Anax.

Schuler chuckled, “Well all right, we won’t be much longer.” He sauntered back to his chair, Patience following with her eyes.

Whit watched them both and laughed to himself.

When the band reached the point of nearly overstaying their welcome at Lang’s, Amelia was the first to rise from the tables and head toward the gate to the street. The rest of the men and women followed shortly after. Patience was glad to leave, her backside felt numb from sitting so long. They returned to the theater to retrieve their instruments, many stumbling along the way.

Patience looked over to Schuler with concern in her eyes. “Are you fit to ride your motorbike back to Keaton? And it’s so late out.”

“Don’t worry about that. Nights like these, I usually sleep over at Frank’s. He doesn’t live that far from the theater.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s no problem,” yawned Schuler. “Sundays we only have one performance in the afternoon.”

“That’s not what I meant … I … well, I do have a hotel room—if you don’t want to bother Frank.”

“It’s all right. Some of the boys and I usually continue the festivities at Frank’s place.”

Patience scrunched her nose. Worry seeped from her pores over the excess of this man, considering his age. Most of his bandmates were ten years younger. And the ones that were close in age to Schuler had imbibed lightly. She watched him fling his arm around Frank as they guffawed and shuffled down the street with a few other drunken musicians. Patience clicked her tongue, swiveling on her feet to march to her hotel.

“That could have gone worse,” Anax said.

Patience dressed into her nightgown in the soft lamplight by the dresser. The isolation of her hotel room was a great relief at evening’s end. “The food and service were impeccable,” she sighed, “The band is very nice, but I felt out of place.”

Anax uttered a sympathetic grunt.

“But Schuler blended so naturally with them! It really is where he belongs …”

“It took some time to acclimate to my bachelor group when I joined.”

“Yes, I’m sure I would warm up to the band, given enough time. It was simply too much tonight.”

“Well, we can unwind now.”

“And I’m still worried … even if he is with Frank and the others.”

Patience stretched into the soft mattress. The late night nagged at her scalp, but the bed was too comfortable to leave in search of hot water. The stress of worrying over Schuler most likely amplified that aching. Deciding to shift her focus away from Schuler’s fecklessness, Patience began pondering a list of things she wanted to accomplish.

“Maybe we ought to have a more intimate adventure next, someplace less crowded.” She thought of all the people she had met in the short span of time between embarking on her trip to St. Phocas and tonight. She needed to retrain her focus on herself.

“Why not go to the grounds where your father found you as an infant?” Anax suggested.

The girl did resolve to move on with her life. She had told her parents she was ready. And lying to them posthumously would be in poor taste. Perhaps this would be a significant step. This entire journey navigating her life could benefit from a symbolic close to that chapter of her childhood.

“I like that idea,” Patience hummed, nestling into the bedcovers.

Unfortunately, she had none other to ask to deliver her there than Schuler. The next day, pleading with a few of the theater employees, she learned where Frank’s apartment was. When she arrived, it was clear Schuler and the other men were in the midst of getting over the previous night’s binge. Patience regarded her friend brusquely and proposed her trip. Schuler agreed with a shaky hand held up to his brow. They were to meet Tuesday at her house.

Satisfied, Patience left to begin a long trek home.

There were plenty of things to think about on that three-hour walk. For one she hoped to make Schuler feel a little guilty once he learned she walked all the way back to her cottage. The second topic occupying her mind was the fact that it had been a full month since she first laid hands on Anax. So much had transpired, she felt the past few weeks were a dream. She had discovered so much about the world around her and herself.

“Thank you, Anax,” said Patience.

“For what?” asked the skull.

“For everything you’ve done so far. You’re a good companion.”

“You as well.”

It was true. To be stuck with this skull nearly twenty-four hours a day fostered a high level of intimacy. A level that seemed near unreachable for anyone else at the moment. Even though they disagreed every so often, Patience would rather the company of this creature than a great number of people. Still, in her heart, she held out hope for Schuler. No matter their distance, she wanted to stay close to him.