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“PRESENTING THE GREAT JOHN DOE!” Said a strange, far away voice.
John stood in the center of the stage in an empty theater. “What- Where-?” He looked around, squinting his eyes against the fluorescent spotlight shining directly on him. He was- he was supposed to be doing something, he knew, but he had no idea what. He didn’t know how he got there, he didn’t want to be there. He had to leave.
He tried to run, but the stage seemed to stretch on forever, its edges disappearing into darkness at the edge of his vision. He tried again to move, tried to step out of the circle of light, but found that no matter what he did, he was always in the center of it. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, shoved into a role he wasn’t prepared to play. “Arthur?” he called out.
He was relieved when a voice answered him. “John, I’m here! I believe in you!” He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t been able to see over the blinding lights, sitting front and center in the strange auditorium was Arthur.
“Oh, Arthur, thank god, we have to-” John was cut off by the voice echoing from above.
“JOHN WILL NOW PLAY THE PIANO VERY WELL.”
Of course, the piano, he was supposed to play the piano. He was sitting on the bench, fingers poised above the keys the way he’d seen Arthur do a million times.
Wait- Arthur- why was John playing the piano? Before he could think any more, he felt his fingers move, and he was playing. It was a familiar song, though not one of Arthur’s. John couldn’t remember where he had heard it, let alone why he was playing it, but he was playing it. He played the song and he did not miss a note.
When he finished, looking out towards his one-man crowd, Arthur began to clap. John couldn’t see his face but he imagined it was full of pride.
“Arthur,” he called, smiling. “Can you play the piano like this?”
“No,” said Arthur.
Wait that- that wasn’t right. Arthur was the most talented musician he knew. Not that John knew many pianists, but he knew Arthur was the best. When John looked at Arthur there was something strange about him. He seemed paler than normal, less substantial. Was he okay? What was happening?
Then the voice said, “JOHN WILL NOW WALK ON A HIGH WIRE AND HE WILL NOT FALL DOWN.”
Suddenly, John was standing on a platform dozens of feet above the stage. He looked down at Arthur, who was leaning forward in his seat with anticipation. He could do it. He had to show Arthur that he could do it.
Clutching the balance stick in his hands, John took a step onto the tightrope, keeping his eyes on Arthur. He took another step, then another, only faltering once then quickly catching himself when he heard Arthur gasp. Eventually, John made it to the platform on the other side. When he looked down, Arthur was clapping.
“Arthur!” John called. “Could you do something as brave as this?” It didn’t sound right as he said it, Arthur was the bravest man he knew. They’d been through so much, and all of it they’d been through together.
“No,” Arthur said, and he almost seemed to flicker in the light. John thought he could make out the outline of the chairs behind him, as though he was seeing through him. Something was wrong, something was very-
“NOW,” said the voice. “JOHN WILL DANCE AND HE WILL BE WONDERFUL.”
John was back on the empty stage. Music started to play, familiar yet unrecognizable, sounding as if it was coming from all around him. John began to dance, moving and spinning to the music. When the song ended, he waited for Arthur’s applause. It never came.
“Arthur?” John called out, doubt seeping into his voice. “Arthur, can you be as wonderful as this?”
There was no answer.
John looked out into the theater. Arthur was barely there, faded so much that he could barely be seen or heard.
“Arthur?” said John again. “Where are you?”
There was still no answer. Arthur had faded away entirely.
“Arthur, what have I done?” cried John.
Then the voice said, “THE GREAT JOHN WILL NOW-”
“Shut up!” John shouted. “Arthur, Arthur, where are you?” John was spinning in the dark. “Arthur, come back, please!”
But Arthur was gone.
“Please,” John said, falling to his knees, eyes blurring with tears. “Please, Arthur, come back, I don’t want to be alone. Please.”
***
“John? John, I’m right here.” Arthur said, shaking John’s shoulder. His hand was warm. They were in bed, their bed, and Arthur was leaning over him. “John, wake up.”
“Arthur?” John said. “Is that really you?”
“Of course it’s me,” Arthur said, looking at him with such an expression of love and concern that it made John feel once again like he was going to cry.
“And you’re… you’re real?” John asked.
Arthur chuckled. “I think so. John, are you alright?”
“Arthur,” John said, pulling him down into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Arthur wrapped his arms around John’s back and laid his head on his chest. “I always am.”
***
Then John and Arthur ate a big breakfast. And after that they spent a fine, long day together.