Dann Silverman's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Back home, Dann sat in his entryway with his coat still on. His pocket felt heavy. He reached in and pulled out a giant pacifier, pink and glossy. He did not remember taking it. He set it on the side table and stared. The pull started small. A thought of the rocking chair built for two. A thought of Thorne's calm voice. By morning, the pull was a rope around his ribs. He tried to ignore it. He made coffee. He sat on the porch. The wind moved through the gnarled tree between the yards, and the chime hanging from its dead branch rang soft and slow. Each note pointed him toward the Victorian. Dann stood. He told himself he would walk out and throw the pacifier into the weeds. He would cut the rope. He carried it across the yard, past the chime tree, up to the heavy door. His hand lifted to knock. It did not throw. It did not turn back. He stood there with the pacifier pressed to his chest and understood he had lost the small fight. He wanted to know what the two-seater rocker felt like with someone beside him. The door opened before he knocked. Thorne smiled. Dann stepped inside.