Disclaimer: "Beauty and the Beast" and the character Pascaland all the rest belong to Republic Pictures. No infringement isintended. Max and her ilk belong to me. That and all the rest of thelegal stuff. 'Nuff said.

Pascal's Paradise

by Kayla Rigney

The pipemaster took advantage of the momentary lull in traffic tograb a cup of tea. He leaned back against the cold rock wall and letthe few messages that were coming down the line pass through hissmall body and on to their destination. The sensation made him feeluncomfortable, like he was missing out on something. Lately, he feltthat way most of the time.

"I'm lonely," he said to no one at all.

Pascal reached into his vest and pulled out a well-worn paperbackcopy of The Man Who Fell to Earth by Walter Tevis. It was oneof the few books he actually owned. He closed his eyes and flippedthe pages under his nose, trying to catch her scent. Sometimes he did&emdash; or he imagined he could. At the moment, however, all hecould smell was dust. It served only to remind him that all his werefriends gathered in Father's Library listening to Vincent read fairytales. Vincent only read stories with happy endings. He never readThe Red Shoes, which was the one fairy tale to which Pascalcould actually relate.

He tapped his pipe against his thigh nervously. He wished he couldjoin his friends. He wished he could read aloud from The Man WhoFell to Earth and have somebody &emdash; anybody &emdash; Get It.Pascal imagined all the people spilling into Father's library like abunch of jumbled together puppies. He pushed the image far from hisconsciousness and once again flipped the pages beneath his nose.

As of late, Pascal's friends (especially Vincent) and beenabsorbed in not-so-subtle attempts to pair him off with Rebecca. Thecandlemaker was pretty and she was kind, but she didn't code and hadthe annoying habit of looking at him blankly whenever he talked aboutsomething she didn't want to hear. She liked everything in her lifeto be calm and quiet. She hated public displays of affection. Ifspontaneity managed to creep in, she quashed it with a witheringlook. Pascal learned early on that unless he played by her rules,Rebecca could and did make his life miserable.

He turned his attention back to the book. He opened it and turnedto the cover page. The inscription read: "Falling to earth is easy.Finding the right place to land is the hard part &emdash; M.L.S."

When Pascal fell, he landed in a storage locker full of books. Hewas trying to catch Mouse before he went Above on a midnight foragingrun. Pascal needed some copper wire to shore up a couple of leadpipes, and he hoped that Mouse could "find" some. Mouse, however,knew the upper tunnels better than he did. One wrong turn, and Pascalwent crashing headfirst into the light.

Once the dust cleared and his eyes adjusted, the pipemasterrealized he was in a storage locker of some sort. Luckily, the boxeswere piled up to the top of the wire fencing. Nobody could see him.He was about to scramble back out the way he came, when a box caughthis eye. It said: "Scifi&endash;RARE."

"Series fiction &emdash; legit" was stacked on top of "Fanfic&emdash; eyes only." The next stack had boxes labeled with tags like:"Polio, Post-polio, TB, Spanish flu," "Mind control" and"UFO's/Conspiracy /asst. brain candy." In fact, all the boxes wereneatly labeled as to content and covered with a thick layer of dust.Nobody could possibly have touched anything in this room for a long,long time. Pascal thought he'd died and gone to weird bookheaven.

He knew it was dangerous, but he returned to the little cubicletime and again. There were just so many boxes of titles he'd heard ofbut never read. The floor was hard and the light bad, so he broughtan old cushion and battery-operated lantern. Every night, after hislast shift, the pipemaster disappeared into the room he namedParadise. As the weeks passed, it became easier and easier toconvince himself that this little archive had been forgotten by itsowner. Pascal told no one of his secret place &emdash; not Vincentand certainly not Rebecca. For the first time in his life, he feltunderstood.

Of course, Paradise doesn't last.

Pascal was so absorbed in "A Martian Odyssey" that he didn't hearthe lock click open.

"Look," she said, in a strong, even voice. "I'm not going to callthe cops or anything. I just need to know why the hell a bald hobbitis sitting in the middle of my storage unit reading The Best ofStanley G. Weinbaum."

"Because the bald hobbit can't afford to purchase his own copy,"he replied softly, without looking up. He didn't look up because hesuspected he'd be staring into the barrel of a loaded gun. This was,after all, New York.

"Far be it from me to deprive you of my pulp sciencefiction." Her voice definitely was not smiling.

"Thank you," said Pascal.

"You're welcome," she replied. She muttered something about atleast he didn't break the binding. Then: "Does the bald hobbit have aname? Mine is Maxine Seaton."

Only then did Pascal dare to look up from the book. He was stunnedby what he saw. Silhouetted in the doorway, this Maxine person wasdrop dead gorgeous. Backlit and wearing jeans and a tee shirt, shewas drop dead gorgeous. She was just his type, too &emdash; tall,slim, auburn hair. From Pascal's vantage point, her legs seemed to goon forever; by the time he'd worked his way up to her face, which waslovely, he was having trouble containing his arousal. "I'm Pascal,"he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "My friends call mePascal."

She raised her perfectly-shaped left eyebrow. "Just Pascal?"

"Yes, Maxine?" She has violet eyes, he thought. In real life,people do not have violet eyes.

"Would you perhaps like to read someplace more comfortable?"

"Where would you suggest?"

"The bookshop upstairs has the most remarkable things," shereplied. "They're called chairs."

Pascal didn't move. He kept his eyes on the book. "I'll take thatunder advisement." He pretended to read.

Maxine cleared her throat.

"Yes?" For the first time in a long time, Pascal was having funwithout knowing the rules.

"I really need to get into that stack of boxes behind you,"she said. "If you don't mind. Besides, I'm thirty-five years old andat my age, I really don't have time to hurry up and wait."

Pascal twisted around and looked at the stack. It was at leasteight feet tall and the boxes were labeled HOLOCAUST STUDIES. When hereturned to his original position, Max was sitting in front of him,nearly knee to knee.

"You're from Below, aren't you?" she asked, quietly. Although herexpression revealed nothing, her violet eyes smiled at him.

Pascal was caught completely off guard. He nodded.

Max made a soft clicking sound with her tongue. "I'm sorry Icalled you a bald hobbit. " She extended her hand to him. He took itand shook it once lightly. He noticed it was very cold.

"Apology accepted," he said, although he didn't really mind hercalling him that. He silently wondered how she knew about Below.

"How did you end up in my storage?" she asked.

"I fell, actually." He pointed the hole in the pasteboard wall.Pascal put aside the book and drew his knees up to his chin. Hewanted to tell her how lovely he thought she was &emdash; and ask herwhat she was doing with a subterranean archive. "I'll leave if youlike," he told her.

"No," Maxine said, shaking her head. "No, that isn'tnecessary."

They continued to eye each other. Once she found out where he wasfrom, she was totally accepting and perfectly calm. Maxine wasbehaving like it was absolutely normal to find a strange man sittingin the middle of her storage unit.

'Which story are you reading?" she asked, finally.

Pascal reached over and picked up the book. "I just finishedMartian Odyssey." When he looked into her eyes, he felt a warmfamiliarity as if he'd known her all his life.

Maxine leaned back and rested on the palms of her hands. Shelooked at him curiously, as if she was trying to decide what to thinkof him. "You like it in Weinbaum land?" she asked.

"Yes,"

"Pascal, you're welcome to stay, but I seriously need to access myarchive," Maxine said. "A friend is waiting for me to call with aquote from Hugh Gregory Gallagher. And the book I want is in thesecond box from the top. At least, "I think that's where itis."

The second box from the top had T-4 scribbled on it in big angryblack letters.

'Would you like some help?" Pascal asked. Knee to knee, Max wasnearly as small as he was. She didn't look like she could possiblylift a box of Kleenex let alone heft a box of books. He remindedhimself that looks can be deceptive.

"I'd like that," Max replied. "Very much."

Pascal jumped to his feet and offered her his hand. Max took itbut didn't stand immediately. Instead she held on lightly as shespoke. "It's a yellow book with red lettering. I can't remember theexact title -- Something Betrayed. I think" She looked up at him,expectantly, he thought.

"Don't look at me," Pascal replied, shrugging. "Now, if you wantedCircus Fire, then I can definitely say it's sepia-toned and inthe box marked Our Lady of Angels, et al."

Maxine gave him a frank, warm smile. Rebecca never smiled at himthat unless she wanted something.

"You can sit in my storeroom any time you damn well please, JustPascal," Maxine said, laughing. She let him pull her to her feet, andthen she was serious again. "Now, I really must needs find that dearole polio's snooty view on the disabled Passing for Normal." Shewiped the palms of her hands on her jeans.

Pascal lowered the desired box and placed it on the floor betweenthem. He stepped back and waited. Maxine seemed to forget he was inthe room and become one with the contents of the box. It was afascinating process.

As she searched, she spoke each book tenderly, as though it was aliving, breathing thing. "Freidlander, how are you my old friend? AndBurliegh. I hate you. No offense. Porter! Way too muchinformation…" She turned each book over in her hands and gentlystacked it on top of its companions on the floor beside her.

Title after title came out of the box. Finally, she found what shewas looking for: By Trust Betrayed. She tapped the bookagainst the heel of her hand. "I knew you were yellow!" shesaid. Then Maxine turned to Pascal. "This is the single mostfrightening book I've ever read. Gives me nightmares to this day, letme tell you."

"Then why do you own it?" Pascal asked.

Maxine looked amused. "Nobody's ever asked me that before," shereplied. I'll have to think about it."

As she left, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "My friendscall me Max," she said. The door to the outside world slammed shutand she was gone.

"Good-bye, Max," he whispered under his breath.

Pascal did not return to Paradise for nearly a week. When he did,he found it magically transformed. A futon had been added to his oldcushion to form a makeshift couch, and his lantern was neatly placedon a small table next to a stack of books. A note inside the firstbook read:

"Resident Hobbit &emdash; please take good care of us. Share uswith all your friends We've been lonely too long. Signed: The Books.PS&endash;Okay, I've thought about it. The answer to your questionis: I accept the nightmares because if I don't, who will? &emdash;Max."

Pascal sat down on the futon and picked up the first book in thepile. It was The Man Who Fell to Earth. He read it in onesitting. When he was finished, he pocketed it along with the otherbooks. He was unsure what to do. He felt very much that he shouldleave something for Max in return.

Before he left for Below, Pascal reread her note. He rummagedaround in his vest pocket until found a pencil stub. Almost withoutthinking, he wrote: "I'll buy that. But do you accept dreams aseasily? Pascal."

He propped his reply against the lantern, where she'd be sure tosee it. Then, the pipemaster quickly slipped through the hole in thewall and was gone.

The next day inched by in quiet torture. Pascal wondered if Maxwould reply to his note, and if she did, what she would say. Perhapshe shouldn't have written what he had; he didn't even thank her forthe books. What if he went back and the hole was plastered over? Hedidn't have any way of knowing the answer (if there was one) untilafter story hour. If he could slip away. If Vincentdidn't stop by. If Rebecca didn't want something…Somewhere between lunch and dinner, Pascal came to the clear andrather ugly realization that he couldn't imagine life withoutParadise. It kept him sane in his apartness.

The pipemaster sipped his tea. By this time, it was cold andbitter. The line was coming back to life. Story hour had ended. Hewent back to the pipes and locked into his steady dance. Pascalrelayed by instinct. He no longer even heard the words that he soeffortlessly passed on. It was familiar and very comforting and itnumbed his mind. He was almost disappointed when Kipper came torelieve him.

"It's late, Pascal," the boy said. "Go get some rest."

"Thank you," the pipemaster replied, automatically.

Pascal walked out of the chamber and did not look back. As heturned the corner, he heard his assistant tap: He didn't say twowords. That said it all. He knew that his friends had beengossiping about him again tonight. He'd heard it on the pipes for thepast couple of weeks. Pascal is in one of his moods. Pascal isn'tmuch on talking today, is he?

Well, Pascal knew how to disappear. He could be invisible in aroom full of people, if he wanted to. Vincent once said: "My friend,you have a great capacity for blending in." Pascal silently scurriedthrough the catacombs beyond Mouse's lair, and climbed up and uptowards the surface.

Paradise was still there. It was warm and well lit and now therewas soft Cajun music seeping out around the edges. The pipemasterpaused at the portal and looked inside.

Max was sitting on the futon, her body swaying in time to themusic. "Are you always so damned serious?" she asked.

"Most of the time," Pascal replied, shrugging. He wondered howlong she'd been there, waiting.

Allons danser, Colinda, danser collés, Colinda, saidthe music.

"Well, most of the time, I'm not," Max said.

"I can handle that," he said.

Pascal climbed into the Paradise and sat beside her on the futon.Every act, every breath seemed to be in slow motion. He drew hisknees up under his chin. "Thank you for the books, " he heard himselfsay.

She smiled that smile. "You're welcome, Just Pascal," she said."Did you like them?"

"I've only read The Man Who Fell to Earth," he replied."And yes, I did like it."

Max nodded. "Good." She leaned back and looked at him. She seemedto be part of the song. Pascal noticed that she had a scattering offreckles across her nose. "There's more where that came from."

For a moment, he wasn't sure whether she was talking aboutfreckles or books. "Thank you," he said. And he meant it.

"For what?"

"Everything, I guess," he said. He wanted to reach out and touchher, but he didn't. Not yet, he told himself. "For the books, lettingme come here."

Max laughed softly. "You're welcome," she said.

Allons danser. Allons danser.

Pascal didn't know what to say, so he sat quietly. He did this sooften that people usually assumed he was shy, (He wasn't.) At firstit was strange to him that Max would be content to sit in silence,too. After a while, though, Pascal was completely at ease, and themusic was nice.

C'est pas tout le monde qui connait

Les valses a deux temps

"Pascal, I can't stay long," Max said.

"I understand," he replied.

She smiled at him again. "Your note really ticked me off atfirst," she told him.

Pascal winced. "I was afraid of that." He looked away, suddenlyworried that he'd committed an unforgivable offence.

Max's voice had a gentle lilt to it. "Oh, it's no biggie," shesaid, touching his cheek lightly. "I'm just not used to peoplecalling me on anything."

"No?" When does the shoe drop? He wondered.

"Pascal, I kind of like it." When Max smiled at him thistime, he knew what it meant.

Now, he thought. Now. Pascal leaned into the kiss almost withoutrealizing. Max softly stroked his cheek, but he did not touch her.Instead, he caressed her with only his lips and his tongue and hisvoice. He drew her to him that way, instinctively deepening the kissslowly, responding to Max's every nuance as if he were relaying code.He thought, while he could still think, I've never known anythinglike this. The pleasure was so intense. He wanted to take her inhis arms, but he didn't. He was completely aroused. Rebecca pushedhim away when she felt his arousal. He knew from the way Max kissedthat her inner rhythm complemented his own. He still did not take herin his arms. He knew that if he didn't stop now, he wouldn't be ableto stop.

Pascal broke the kiss.

Max smiled at him with her eyes and her mouth and even herfingertips on his cheek. Her smile was frank and warm.

Rebecca never smiled at him unless she wanted something.

Max smiled because … What did it mean when she smiled at himlike that? It was so open and inviting. What did it mean? Whatdid she want?

Pascal's breathing was uneven. "What do you want?" he asked.

Max ran her fingers through the hair above his ears. "Nothing,"she said, smiling.

Pascal felt like he was on fire wherever she touched him. Sayit, he thought. I need you to tell me.

Max was content to sit in silence, driving him nuts with hergentle touch.

"What do you want?" he asked again. His voice was jagged,broken.

"Nothing," Max replied, still smiling. Still touching him. "Whatdo you want?"

God, isn't it obvious? Pascal felt like he wasfree-falling without a parachute. "You," he whispered. " I wantyou."

Max looked at him with those violet eyes and smiled that warm,frank smile. "So that's what it means," she said.

"What?"

"When you smile like that," she replied.

"Like what?"

"Like that," she said. And she kissed him. Smiling, she kissedhim.

Pascal felt any and all control slip away. No longer able to speakaloud, he whispered, "What do you want, Max?"

She shook her head a little. "Nothing, Pascal," Her voice was verylow and very soft, controlled. She traced his lips with her indexfinger. "Just you."

Pascal took her in his arms. He was strong from years of workingthe pipes. It was easy to pull her down on top of him. It felt goodholding her like that. Max did not pull away. Instead she smiled&emdash; and she kissed him the same way he'd kissed her. Her tonguedanced with his, moving to a shared song. He moved into it, towardher. He did not hold back. Max didn't want him to hold back. Shewanted him to dance with her. She told him so. Begged him.

"Dance with me, Pascal." Her voice was desperate and full oflonging. "Please."

The pipemaster soothed her with the rhythm of his body. It was sonatural with Max, so right. It built with every kiss, every touch.Clothes slipped away and skin brushed against skin; brushing deepenedinto connection. No awareness except pleasure. Desperation replacedby joy. It was only part of the dance when Pascal rolled on top ofher, held her down with his weight, asked her. Heranswer was physical and surprisingly tender.

For the first time in his adult life, Pascal trulysmiled.

Rebecca looked at him blankly when he broke up with her. He wasn'tplaying by her rules. Pascal knew she would never speak of theirrelationship again. In her world, it would cease to exist. She woulderase it for all time. His friends, on the other hand, acted as ifthey were walking on eggshells around him. They all thought somethinggreat and sad had happened; and all Pascal felt was relief.

When Vincent cornered him outside the pipe chamber and asked whatwas going on, Pascal shrugged it off.

He said, "It's really okay, Vincent."

"Whatever you say, my friend," Vincent replied, his sea-blue eyesfull of concern. Behind his lionine façade was infinitecompassion for those he loved, and Pascal knew it. "If you needanything, you know I'm here."

"I'm fine," Pascal assured him. " I'm used to being on my own.

Vincent accepted that explanation readily.

Pascal knew that was the way most people saw him&emdash; a loner,a confirmed bachelor, pipemaster for life. Deep down, they expectedhim to remain alone. And deep down, Pascal had expected that,too.

"I just want you to be happy," Vincent said.

"I know," Pascal replied.

That same night, Max gave him beautifully wrapped present. "Justfor you," she said, smiling. "I know you like music."

Pascal opened it carefully. Inside the box were a personal CDplayer and a few CDs. He tried to hand the package back to her. "It'stoo expensive, Max," he said. "I can't accept this."

"You can and you will," she told him fiercely. "Don't makeme go through the wall and give them to you!" Max gave him a looklike thunder.

Of course, he relented and accepted the gifts. He was a littleunsure how to handle the situation. Rebecca had never given himanything so precious. And normally, gifts were exchanged.

"I have nothing to give you," Pascal said. "You know that,right?"

Max just smiled.

They talked late into the night about books and music and simplethings. When they made love, Pascal knew Max would never ask him toplay by any rules but his own.

Later, back in his own chamber, Pascal took the time to reallylook at his gifts. Her choice in CDs was dead on right: Perlman andPrevin playing Scott Joplin's rags, BB King's Take It Home,Kurt Weill. There was a title he didn't recognize called BayouBoogie by a group named Beausoleil. He decided to play thatone.

He followed the lyrics in English:

Let's go dance, Colinda. Let's dance close. Colinda

So close we make the old ladies mad…

It's not just everybody who knows

How to waltz in two tempos.

The pipemaster leaned back against the cold rock wall and let thefew messages that came down the line pass through his small body andon to their destination. Pascal reached up and rested his handagainst a lead pipe. The line was quiet tonight. Everybody wasgathered in the library listening to Vincent read fairy tales. Pascalwas content to sit alone in silence, sipping tea. He didn't likefairy tales, anyway. He preferred books. He took one last look atThe Man Who Fell To Earth and tucked it safely away inside hisvest pocket.

Almost like clockwork, a new message came down the line. It wasblatantly and obviously for him -- Beausoleil. Pascal laughedaloud.

You know I love you

I want you to love me, too

Let's get together

Like the old folks used to do

I'm going to have to teach you to code, he thought. He stood andfaced the pipes and tapped back between the rolling beat of the song.He had a very distinct "style." Max had a very distinct taste inmusic. It was only a matter of time until people figured out what wasgoing on. Pascal smiled. He just didn't care. In fact, he wanted themto know.

We'll get married

Go to Paris

Come here, kiss me

It's you I love

Pascal locked into that familiar rhythm. It felt wonderful. Heswayed with the fiddles; he rocked with the piano. He danced withMax. He could almost feel her body pressed against his. He couldalmost taste her smile. Soon, he thought. Soon. The pipes rang withthe sound of Zydeco.

No matter what the people say

We'll do things our way…

Even when you're blue

I'll be there with you…

Viens me voir, embrasse-moi

C'est toi que j'aime bébé

"I think I finally landed in the right place," he said to nobodyat all.

Somewhere high Above in Paradise, Max smiled.