Chapter Twelve

Rapunzel's sleep became restless.

The ride home from the Duckling was a sleepy haze, punctuated by rude awakenings whenever the Imperial dipped into a pothole or took a corner too fast. Eugene had watched her dozing with equal parts bemusement and concern; she assured him that it was only from spending all day up to her eyelashes in books that she was so tired. She knew when she settled in beside him in bed that she should stay awake, chasing that strange spark, but her eyelids were too heavy, as if something called her consciousness down onto the pillow and away from the waking world.

She blamed the strange things she read for the odd turn that her unconsciousness had taken. Despite her earlier exhaustion, she was thrust back into wakefulness more than once, feeling as though the end of her dreams had been just out of reach. Finally giving up on passing the rest of the night peacefully, she opened her eyes and squinted at the faded twilight of the room.

Eugene's arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, and his persistent snore was the only sound beside the rustling of the leaves that lined the street outside. He looked much more serene than he ever did when he was awake, lips parted just so, the space between his brows smooth and untroubled. She felt a pang of guilt for falling asleep when there were much more valuable ways to be spending their time, but at the same time knew that he would forgive her, and waiting until the moment was right was not a difficult task.

Rapunzel mimicked her beau, brushing brown hair away from his face before cautiously climbing out of bed. The floor was cool on her bare feet, and she wondered where Max had gotten to.

She followed the sounds of movement down the stairs and found him in the kitchen, watching Hook shuffle and back and forth between small wooden crates that had appeared on the counters. Max whined as she entered, and she reached down to scratch him between the ears.

Hook looked over his shoulder and frowned. "Bit early, dollface," he remarked. The clock on the wall read half past four.

"I couldn't sleep," Rapunzel murmured in reply. She peered around Hook's hulking shape and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Careful," Hook advised, moving from one spot to another. In his good hand, he clutched a slender, paper-wrapped cylinder, a slip of twine protruding from one end. He wiggled his hook with a soft chuckle, "Wouldn't want you ending up like me."

The box beside the sink that he had pulled the strange parcel from was full of sawdust, and Rapunzel saw the circular ends of other shapes poking through. A second crate with its lid half off betrayed more of the same objects. She realized why Max was so nervous, and why Hook examined the cylinders with such care; the police-trained dog would be able to smell the contents of the boxes, and Hook had learned from experience the power of what he handled.

Dynamite.

Rapunzel's fingers curled around the doorframe, and she was reluctant to take a step farther into the kitchen. "What is it for, Mister Hook?"

The large man returned the small explosive to its cradle and pulled the lid back on before answering. "Hopefully, nothing," he said, and while she could not see his face, Rapunzel could hear the cautious optimism. "But this ain't child's play we're getting at, and a fella's got to be ready for whatever might come his way."

He could only mean the Gala. Rapunzel had heard the dangers of explosives before. After the Great War, the city had been rife with unrest of a most fevered and combustible sort. She'd only been a baby at the time, but the bombings were not something so easily forgotten. Whatever the Tagnoski were planning, she hoped that these bits of dynamite did not matter much into it. People could get hurt, but they had promised Rapunzel that no one would come to harm. It was only a simple robbery.

Eugene would not let them, she knew.

Eugene was too good of a man to let Rapunzel or anyone else get hurt. Even in his sleep he tried to protect her, and not in the terrible, stifling way her mother did. He had shown her so many things, and she knew he would bring her the world, if she asked him.

Probably.

She wound her fingers through her hair, feeling with its familiar weight also the strain of uncertainty in Eugene's voice when they'd been at the Falls, or whenever she tried to mention the legend of the Diamond that she'd learned in the Library. Even after seeing it with his own eyes, Eugene did not seem to quite believe the magical qualities that she possessed, and even if he did, he regarded them with the distrust and fear that Gothel had always warned her about.

Rapunzel's own dread curled in the pit of her stomach, its icy tendrils promising no more sleep that night. Hook noticed the look cross over her face, and frowned.

"Are you alright, Blondie?"

There was some bit of hope that fought back against her hesitation. Rapunzel had discovered something that the radio often crooned about, muddled over and yearned for. Something that seemed to be as sweet and elusive as moonshine:

She was in love.

Her fingers stroked the space between Max's ears, and Hook's query went unheard. She thought only of Eugene, and the way he grinned at her. He did not share that same smile, somewhat soft around the corners of his eyes, with anyone else. He certainly would not have followed anyone else into the Museum or the Library or the Duckling's dance floor, and he did not kiss or hold anyone else the way he did Rapunzel. Though neither of them had said a word on the matter, she could only believe that he loved her, too.

Hook repeated himself and Rapunzel emerged from her reverie. She gave him a shaky, nervous smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The thug raised an eyebrow and hoisted up one of his boxes. "Good. I think you should probably head back up to bed, doll. You and your bird are gonna be busy later."

She only nodded and bade him a soft, "Good night," before returning upstairs, Max on her heels. Eugene hadn't budged from where she'd left him, though he did look a little forlorn with no company but the empty space beside him. Rapunzel could not sleep, and she did not try, instead pulling her sketchbook from under the mattress and opening it to a spread of blank pages. She was alarmed to find that there were not many of those left, but supposed that once she ran out, she could always buy another.

Her thoughts turned to her mother's money, still stashed in her coat pocket. She knew living in New York City could be expensive, but it had been the little things that had eaten away at her budget. At least they did not have to pay to stay in Hook and Tambor's house, and Eugene earned a little by working for his friends, but she did not think she would be able to ask him to buy things for her. It was a new age, after all: women voted, and took jobs, and did as they pleased, unlike any of the generations of women that came before. Perhaps when the time came, she'd take that "dame's work" in the office of Tambor's grocery that Eugene had been so vehemently against.

But those were thoughts for another day. Her fingers found their home around a dwindling stub of charcoal, and Eugene's easy breathing was a rhythmic accompaniment to the sound of her eager drawing.


"How can you even read that?"

Eugene frowned at the giggle that slipped in through one ear and out the other, smoothing the corner of the crumpled paper in his hand. Beneath a torn-out photograph from the paper, rather sloppy scrawl declared "SMITH PAVILION" in smudged black ink, but he didn't really think his handwriting was all that bad.

"We can't all be artists," he retorted to the mostly-blonde on his arm. Rapunzel only rolled her eyes before returning her attention to the crowd that passed around them. Bundled up against the Atlantic wind, their muffled laughter mingled with the sound of music and the stomp of feet on the sand-strewn boardwalk. Hawkers boasted roasted peanuts and popcorn as the sky's blue darkened, eager to be rid of their wares before they went home for the night. The buzz of electric lights passed overhead, illuminating the posters and signs of the sturdier eating establishments and souvenir shops that bordered the picturesque parks of Coney Island. At the far end, the entrance of Steeplechase stood guard, the cries and shouts of patrons evidence enough of their enjoyment of what the Park had to offer. Behind them, at the eastern end of the boardwalk, what remained of Dreamland looked on, a somber reminder of freak shows past.

Beside the pair, Maximus filled his nose with the spicy aroma of sausages, hamburgers, and elephant ears, all the sweet and savory delights that had been denied him during his patrols along the dank waterfronts of Manhattan. It was almost too much to hope that his newly adopted humans would be pausing in their quest to hunt down a bite to eat.

Scanning over the heads of passerby, Eugene grumbled at the excess of people that made it difficult to navigate. It certainly was not as crowded as it would be in the summer months, but he didn't know his way around, and pride wouldn't let him ask for directions. Time was not exactly on their side, either; they only had a half an hour to find the re-elected Governor where he was cutting the ribbon of Coney Island's latest addition that had been built in his name.

Eugene guided Rapunzel off of the boardwalk and into the thick of Twelfth Street, knowing that the man they were looking for was lurking somewhere in The Bowery. He didn't like being somewhere so unfamiliar, and he'd grown used to the presence of Tagnoski muscle to help him out of a bind, if he ever found himself in another one. There was some reassurance, though, in knowing that the Stabbingtons and Tatiascore would never suspect to find him out here, and watching Rapunzel's delight at the array of amusements was very much its own reward.

He'd been puzzled to find her already awake when he'd rolled over that morning, but she'd been so wrapped up in her drawing that she hadn't noticed him stir. He'd been content to watch her for a while, but he could not resist the smell of breakfast for long. Rapunzel was almost sheepish when he finally made it known he was awake, but he couldn't guess what she would have been hiding.

"Anything interesting in the paper this morning?" He asked, out of genuine curiosity, and anything to keep his mind off of the crowd. Rapunzel's lower lip protruded with her disappointment.

"No," she answered. She'd been dismayed to find that the Times was only printing repeats of their weekday articles about the Diamond, so what she'd read during breakfast were things that she already knew. The only thing of use was the time and place where they could find their quarry. "I'll just have to wait until Monday."

"Just what are you looking so hard for?" She'd said it was important to her, and Eugene was not going to get in the way, but that did not mean her mission was any clearer.

Rapunzel bit her lower lip, trying to find the right words. "I know it's just a diamond, but I read it, and it sounded like something…" Her hand left his arm for the first time since they'd stepped off the train in the southern reaches of Brooklyn, and joined its partner in twisting her braid anxiously. "I just wanted to know if…" She sighed. "It's complicated."

They'd stopped walking, with the flow of leaving beachgoers moving around them and paying little mind. Max took his post at Rapunzel's feet, and Eugene shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. He could tell that Rapunzel was not used to keeping secrets, and he was very unhappy at the thought of witnessing such a deception.

Before he could open his mouth to say so, Rapunzel released her hair and pointed over his shoulder. "Look!" she exclaimed. "Do you think we could see the Pavilion from the top of that?"

Eugene turned and craned his neck to take in the sight of the Wonder Wheel; with the onset of evening, the circle of steel and color was lit up enough to almost drown out the smaller rides that surrounded it. He could not keep his frown from twisting wryly.

"You just want to ride the ferris wheel."

Rapunzel could only grin and hope he would allow the subject of the Diamond to drop. She did not like the feeling of keeping the importance of it from him, but at the same time, she did not want to him to think she was obsessed over something that could possibly be nothing at all. Things had been very well and dandy at the Falls a few days before, but weren't there plenty of songs written about how often a man changed his mind? And the women who sang them didn't even have to cope with unnatural magical abilities factoring into the equation!

"Come on, Blondie," Eugene relented, though Rapunzel led the way to the base of Coney Island's main attraction. She bounced on her heels as they waited in line, but neither of them said a word. Max was very unhappy to find that he was not permitted on, though it looked like there was room enough. Still, he waited obediently beside the attendant's booth, and Rapunzel could see his baleful eyes even as they began to move upward.

Eugene was relieved to find that they'd been seated in one of the stationary gondolas; while he did not usually have a problem with heights, the idea of swinging back and forth one hundred and fifty feet up in the air was not appealing. Rapunzel cooed softly as Coney Island, the Bowery, and Brighton Beach began to spread out before them. Their progress upward was slow, as more passengers boarded the wheel.

It felt good to rest after so much walking, Eugene decided, though the minutes ticked away. Governor Smith was busy with his post-election tour of the city, and as Arceneau had mentioned, getting a hold of him and convincing him to come to the Duckling would be no simple task.

But then again, he was Flynn Rider. He could do anything.

"Eugene?"

Rapunzel's soft voice called him back to the small space they shared. She settled against his side, and he drew his arm around her shoulders. "Hmmm?"

"What are you going to do once you've got the Diamond?"

Eugene pursed his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth as he thought. "Well, I guess we'll sell it. Whatever the boss decides to do with it. It's not my decision." He watched her brows come together. "Why? What is it that's been eating you?"

Sucking in her breath, Rapunzel tried to articulate what had been running through her mind ever since they'd been to the Library. Even as she said it, she knew she sounded foolish, and quite possibly deranged, but she could not keep it from Eugene. He did not deserve it. "I've just got this feeling that the Diamond and I… If you read the stories, you'd see. It's supposed to have these… magical powers," she tried to smile, but she could feel him shifting uncomfortably beside her. "Like it brings good luck, and… healing. Like me. I can't help but feel like it has something to do with me."

Eugene was almost sorry he asked. Almost. He looked away from the reflection of the park lights in Rapunzel's eyes and to his palm. It was unmarked, though he remembered very well the feeling of being cut by sharp stones at Niagara Falls. She'd sung for him then, and exposed what no one else in the world-not counting her mother-knew. He had thought he was going crazy, but Rapunzel, she had been warm and real and bright that night.

He was a superstitious country boy no longer, and had been very firm in the knowledge that there was no such thing as magic, at least up until that Tuesday. Rapunzel would not have pulled that guess from thin air; she'd read all about that stone, and he was in no place to question it. He hadn't given much thought to the supernatural if he could help it, and now this slip of a girl had come along and shaken his idea of just what the world was. He'd been sure that he would die a slave to the Tatiascore, or rot away in prison, alone and without anyone to grieve for him, but Rapunzel had made everything startling and new. If he tried to deny whatever spooky strangeness that came their way, he would only lose her, and the happiness he was only just growing used to.

Eugene straightened as the gondola came close to the ground and moved back up again; the ride was nearly over, but he still had time. "Okay," he said, clearing his throat and taking both of her hands in his own.

Rapunzel's whole form sagged with relief. He seemed to understand, or, at least, was willing to try, as he continued, "So you think that his rock, this Diamond," he swallowed. "It has something to do with what you can do. Okay."

"Yes," she replied almost breathlessly. "I'm not sure just what I'll do, but maybe once we've got it, something will happen and I'll…"

He silenced her with a gentle squeeze of her fingers. His grin was cautious and crooked and warm. "Well, there's only one way to find out."

Rapunzel flung her arms about his shoulders and planted a kiss on him before he could say any more. Now it was her hesitation that seemed foolish, and any fear she had when it came to finding the Diamond, and all of the truths that might come with it, had vanished.

Eugene could hardly draw a breath to complain, but even if he could, he wouldn't. It was only when they heard the soft cough of the ride's attendant that they realized the Wonder Wheel had come to a stop, and Max, as well as the entire line of people waiting to board, were watching. There was a moment of embarrassed fumbling and apologies before they found their feet on the pavement and raced back onto Twelfth, away from prying eyes.

"Shall we?" Eugene asked, once they'd smoothed their clothes and reassembled their thoughts. They hadn't paid much attention to their aerial view of the Bowery while they had the opportunity, but it could not be helped. Rapunzel took his hand and they moved toward the bustling lane. The sun and emerging stars had vanished behind thickening cloud cover, the last red slice of daytime now obscured by the restaurants and shops that occupied the stretch between the Boardwalk and Surf Avenue. The noise was all but deafening, with street performers and hawkers all trying to draw the precious resource of attention.

It reminded Rapunzel of the bustling streets of Manhattan, tinged with the smell of saltwater. They skirted the long lines outside of clubs and small shops, and paused outside of one dark doorway that bore a sign that promised a fortune-telling monkey would reveal what lay beyond the mysterious fog of their destinies.

Despite Rapunzel's curiosity, Eugene knew that Coney Island was overpopulated with that breed of hoaxes, and while he would allow for magical girls and legendary diamonds, he had to draw the line at clairvoyant animals. Not much farther, they found themselves facing a wall of people, and the sound of Governor Smith's voice carried overhead.

"…so I would like to thank you again, my loyal constituents, and I see a bright new future ahead for all of us!"

There was a round of polite applause, and Eugene balanced on his toes to see what was happening. They'd evidently arrived at the end of the Governor's speech; the tall, pale-faced fellow handled a pair of overlarge scissors, stepping down from his makeshift podium of soapboxes, and sliced through a ribbon that had been stretched between two columns of one building's looming facade. Gleaming brass letters over the archways read "Smith Pavilion," and from inside the lit-up arcade came the smells of food and the sweet sound of dance music. Advertisements for the eating establishments and even a skating rink called the crowds inside, the Governor waving them on with shouts of encouragement.

The pair made no move to follow. Eugene's mind raced, trying to decide what he was going to do next. Already, he could see the Governor gesturing for the two police officers that escorted him to return to his side. If they did not hurry, they would lose their chance.

"Max," he said quickly. The white dog's ears perked up, alert, and he followed the jerk of Eugene's chin. "Help me out?"

There was hope for that dog yet. With uncanny understanding, Max bayed and dodged stragglers until leaping between the legs of the Governor himself, knocking the man off balance before his escorts could react.

Lucky for the elected official, Eugene appeared at his elbow, catching him and preventing a humiliating sprawl across the pavement.

"Careful," Eugene advised, pulling on his most disarming grin. "You'll have to forgive him. Dogs, am I right? Just so damn friendly."

Smith looked more startled than anything, trying to spot the culprit behind his near accident. Rapunzel was already calling after him, and the dog returned obediently to her side.

"Thanks," said the Governor, pulling himself free of the stranger's grip and brushing nonexistent dust from his jacket. "You know, you ought to have him on a leash."

Eugene allowed himself to laugh. "And you bet I will, sir, the finest leash that money can buy. That was a right ducky speech you gave, Al." He hadn't heard a word of it, but the Governor didn't need to know that. "Do you mind if I call you Al?"

Smith's eyes narrowed, and he glanced at his two officers. Both looked wary and puzzled as Smith asked, "Do I know you, son?"

Clearing his throat, Eugene answered, "You don't know me from Adam, but we've got a mutual acquaintance, a certain Doctor Arceneau, in Manhattan."

Eugene knew that Arceneau would not lie about knowing the Governor, but now he had to rely on Smith's memory, and learn if the good doctor's name really carried any weight. He was relieved to see that it did.

"Ah, yes," Smith said slowly, his mouth turning up at some recollection or other. "And how is the doctor?"

"He was doing just swell the last time I saw him, but why don't you come by and ask him yourself?" Eugene slipped a hand into his coat, and saw the pair of policemen stiffen. He withdrew a small business card and quirked one eyebrow as he handed it to Smith. The Governor frowned at the scribbled duck-shape on one side.

"What's this?"

"An invitation."

He knew Smith was a man who resented the law that had forced the country to go dry. That was no secret, and he planned to take advantage of it.

The Governor looked back at his escorts and moved as if to hand the card back. "That's quite all right, there's no need…"

The older man trailed off as the soft sound of singing passed between them. Rapunzel was kneeling by the columns of the Pavilion where the sliced ribbon still dangled. She was crooning along with the music that spilled out onto the Bowery as she watched them, one hand reaching down to scratch between Max's ears. Eugene grinned; no one could resist Rapunzel's voice, even if she did not know it.

"But the Duckling isn't like anywhere else, let me tell you," Eugene said, pushing the Governor's hand back. "Sure, it isn't as swanky as what you're used to, but we've got something no one else has got." He gestured to Rapunzel. "We've got heart."

Smith looked to Eugene, then back down to the card. He turned it over, exposing the address of where he'd be able to go to find the Duckling.

"Harlem?" He said dubiously, frowning.

The other man was quick to reassure. "Trust me, it's all part of the experience. We are unlike anyplace else." He leaned in to prevent the officers from hearing. "How does tomorrow night sound? The doctor will be there, and I'm sure he'll be more than happy to see you."

The Governor's hand slipped the card into his breast pocket. "Well, perhaps it couldn't hurt."

Eugene spread his hands in a shrug. "Only one way to find out."

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Appetites were alive and well after a well-earned victory. They could not afford most of the fancier establishments that lined the Bowery, and politely declined joining the Governor for dinner at Stauch's. Even if they didn't have to pay, Eugene didn't think they would be able to stomach the atmosphere for very long.

Instead, they loitered along Surf Avenue, and Eugene expounded on their success around a mouthful of Nathan's Famous.

"What a pushover," he declared, brandishing a fist at the lit-up entrance of Luna Park across the street. "That was almost too easy. We'll get Smith over on our side and we'll have at that Gala, and I'll bring you that Diamond and everything'll be Jake-"

"Hey," Rapunzel interrupted. Her hands were empty, and Max was licking the ends of her fingers, betraying the fate that had befallen her half-eaten hot dog. "You can't just bring it to me. I'm going with you."

Eugene's brows furrowed and he turned back to face her. "It'll be dangerous, Blondie."

Rapunzel's thoughts turned to that morning, and Hook and his dynamite. "I know," she said. The thought was less frightening and now just a little exciting. "I don't care."

Strong hands on her shoulders pulled her close. "Is that so? You think you're a regular gun moll now?"

"Yes," Rapunzel retorted, not without some small bit of pride. She was rewarded with the rumble of Eugene's low chuckle as he bent his head to kiss her, and this time it did not matter who stared.


There are so many places to go and see in 1920s New York City, like the shining lights of Broadway, the boxing matches in Madison Square Gardens, and the bohemian Greenwich Village, but including them all would threaten to overstuff the story to a degree where it might lose all of its substance.

For those of you who share my interests and are also fans of anime, I'd like to point you in the direction of Baccano!, a short series I watched a year or so ago, that takes place (mostly, sort of) in 1930/1931 in NYC, based on the light novels by Ryogho Narita. It is a funny show with hilarious characters, predictably overrun with gangsters and its own supernatural premise. It is also pretty violent and bloody, and not for the fainthearted.

A less gruesome recommendation would be Bringing Up Baby, 1938, starring Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, if only on the note that the two protagonists sing I Can't Give You Anything But Love to a wayward leopard on a roof in the middle of the night. There's more to it than that, of course; Grant and Hepburn make spectacular opposites, the story is funny, and it's an all around entertaining movie, if you've got an hour and a half to spare.