Father Panic's Opera Macabre by Thomas Tessier

lit a couple of others that were already placed around the room. Neil had to duck his head to get inside. One of the candles must have been scented because he immediately noticed the fragrance of lavender in the air.
     
    "Close the door," she said, smiling broadly. "Take your shoes and socks off, make yourself at home."
     
    Neil slid the bolt in place-this door actually locked. Marisa pulled the tiny curtains across the windows.
     
    The floor inside the wagon was covered with an old oriental carpet. There was almost no furniture, just a small low table surrounded by cushions and pillows- dozens of them, in various sizes and colors. On the table was a bottle of wine, already opened, with the cork sitting loosely in place, two glasses and a platter of antipasto covered with a glass lid. There was even a shallow bowl of water filled with floating purple flowers.
     
    It all reminded Neil of the way that some guys he had known would prepare their apartment when they were having a girl in for the evening. But here-in this dismal pit of a cellar beneath an old house out in the middle of nowhere. His poor Marisa. It was touching, but ultimately so sad. And yet, Neil was happy to be there with her.
     
    "It's great," he said. "You must have done a lot of work."
     
    Marisa gestured as if she were wiping her brow, and then stifling a big yawn. "You had a nap today. I didn't!"
     
    "Ah, baby. Let me pour you some wine."
     
    "That sounds very good."
     
    They stretched out together on the pillows, halfsitting, resting back, their bodies touching, Neil's arm around her shoulder. He unbuttoned her blouse enough so that he could slip his hand inside and hold her breast.
     
    "Mmmm."
     
    They relaxed like that in silence for a few moments. Neil was still thinking of how to phrase what he wanted to say to her when Marisa began to speak, her voice quiet, reflective.
     
    "Do you believe in life after death?"
     
    "What?"
     
    "I mean, my family does. They're devout Catholics- more Catholic than the Pope, my uncle always says- and they believe in life eternal through Christ. I was just wondering, do you?"
     
    "I was raised a Catholic too."
     
    "And?"
     
    Neil smiled, admiring the way she wouldn't let him dodge that one. "No, I stopped believing that a long time ago."
     
    "Are you sure?"
     
    "Well, yes. But you never really know. Until."
     
    "Ah."
     
    "Do you?"
     
    "Do I what? Believe that?"
     
    "Yes."
     
    "Not the same way," Marisa said. "But I think maybe we do live on in another form. You know what I think it is like? Have you ever been just a little bit awake, but still almost totally asleep? You have an awareness, but you feel like you have no body. You feel like you're floating in a vast ocean, but it's not water, it's not air. There's no color, nothing to see. You are just being there, and there is nowhere. You're alone. All alone. You don't see anything, you can't smell or hear anything. Nothing touches you, because you have no body. There is nothing you need, nothing you want. You don't even have any thoughts. No memories to please or hurt you. And yet you do have some kind of awareness. I don't know what other word to use. Awareness. Like, you know you exist. And you understand. Yourself. Everything. Your awareness encompasses all your memories and experiences, and more, but it isn't limited just to them, it never calls them up as scenes or words. Do you know what I mean? Your awareness is complete. In this-nothing. And the amazing part of it is, all you have is this awareness, but you are content. You can be this way forever, regardless of whether you're lying in a grave or your ashes were scattered to the wind. You still are, and you're content."
     
    "What would be the point?" Neil asked after a moment.
     
    Marisa laughed, dispelling the solemn mood. "We used to talk like this at the university, late at night. Student talk."
     
    "That's all right. But I have no answers."
     
    "Of course, nobody does. I was just