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Boots in a Flowerbed

 

 

 

 

13. Remembering Home

"He's marvelous," Kim sighs, and Chaim beams with satisfaction beside him. The object of their rapturous admiration doesn't flip an ear, just continues its steady trot, broad quarters swaying rhythmically.

'He' is Chaim's latest equine acquisition, the first stallion of that peculiar color that the ever aloof horse traders have found for their picky but generous customer. Gleaming thundercloud-blue under the sun, he's also far bigger than any of the others, so it won't go to pair him with any of them. That's why Chaim has decided on the one-horse cabriolet today; he's wanted to show the stallion to Kim.

"But you're still crazy." Kim shakes his head. "Couldn't you think of anything larger and more expensive and more cumbersome to collect? Why horses?"

"Oh, I could easily think of many, much more expensive items!" Chaim grins playfully. "As to bigger things... well, I suppose I could collect houses? Or how about carriages?"

"You are crazy!" Kim laughs, leans back in the seat. "Is horse-collecting a common hobby in your circles?"

Chaim smiles a little, and Kim immediately knows that for some reason, the question has struck a nerve. He's learned to read Chaim. The man looks straight ahead, not even glancing aside at Kim, not wanting to let the brittle hurt show. But Kim wants to understand that strange, stubborn hurt, and he's grown so much bolder.

"Chaim?" He looks at the man. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Chaim gives him a quick smile, then concentrates on navigating the handsome horse past a broad, clumsy cart. It's heavily loaded, wobbling a little behind two gigantic draught horses. The Royal Blue stallion snorts and dances past them, neck arching proudly, but Kim doesn't let himself be distracted by the sight.

"I can't believe that you wouldn't have any friends," he insists. "I can understand that you don't have any close relatives, but surely you've got friends!"

Chaim huffs a little. "There used to be people I called my friends," he says, lip curling bitterly. "But I've come to the conclusion that it was just wishful thinking. 'Friend' is too lofty a word to use for people I just happen to know. We have nothing in common."

"But - nobody?"

"Nobody," Chaim says decisively. "Maybe I've been foolish enough to imagine otherwise, sometimes, but I know better now."

Kim frowns at the roadside, not really seeing anything. He cannot comprehend such a thing. No friends? No family? How can anyone be so alone?

"It sounds... ghastly," he says quietly.

Kim remembers his home, the village, back in Chademien. All the brothers and sisters, aunts, grandparents, cousins, uncles, the great-grandmother who'd lived with his family until she'd died at ninety-four. Kim had been eleven or twelve then. And all the friends with whom he'd played and fought and made up and giggled and gone to school, his friends ever since they'd learned to walk. He tries to picture Chaim, an only child growing up in those sumptuous surroundings, who's suddenly left without his parents. A solitary figure in the empty rooms and rolling parks of the glorious mansion. Kim blinks. To him it's the landscape of nightmares.

Chaim chuckles mirthlessly, and a bitter line appears beside his mouth. "Oh, but how could anyone be unhappy in such a situation?" One dark eyebrow rises into a mocking arc. "When you've been reared all your life to inherit all those loads of money, to be worthy of them, and then it all falls into your hands, and there's nobody to stop you from doing whatever you damn well please?"

"I could," Kim says firmly. "I would be terribly unhappy."

Chaim looks at him sideways.

"It's so hard to even imagine it," Kim goes on. "I've been surrounded by people all my life. This is the first time in my life that I haven't had dozens of friends around, now that I'm living here. It's been so strange to get used to it."

"But you've found friends," Chaim says softly. "You've even found a girlfriend."

Kim feels oddly embarrassed to talk about Linell with Chaim. "Well, yes," he mumbles. "Not really good friends, though. I mean... it doesn't happen overnight..."

"When you've inherited a position, or lots of money, or both..." Chaim is speaking more to himself, his voice low and musing. "People only see those. Even others in the same position. And you make such mistakes, thinking that perhaps there could be someone who truly wants to know... to see something more..."

His voice drifts off and Kim holds his breath. This time he doesn't want to push Chaim, but the man has already caught himself and the moment is gone. He shoves his hair out of his eyes with a quick hand, then tightens his hold of the reins and grins. "I'm sinning! I'm being boring! Hey, aren't you tired of this loitering?"

He doesn't wait for Kim to reply before touching the stallion's sides with the whip, and the animal smoothly goes over to canter, as if he'd only been waiting for the permission.

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