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Boots in a Flowerbed

 

 

 

 

19. Questions

Kim ruffles his wet hair with a towel as he shuffles barefoot from his bathroom, then hangs the towel around his neck and gives his hands a critical look. No, no more soil around the nails - good. He pulls the wardrobe door open.

Nothing too formal-looking for the evening. Chaim has again spent the day talking to his various agents, representatives, solicitors, trusted men, attorneys, whatever all those people involved in the management of his property are called. After those days he's always drained and just wants to relax and be comfortable. Kim is happy to comply, especially today. After all, he's had a busy day too, even though he's definitely enjoyed it more than Chaim.

It's now about a month since he started his studies in the somewhat pompously named Academy of Horticulture and Landscape Architecture. Although he's never been to school in Dorelion, his application and the letter of reference he's got from the Uman City Park Service were enough to gain him access, and he's officially enrolled in the school at the beginning of the spring term. The Academy is a delightful old school, its curriculum much more down-to-earth than the grand name might seem to suggest, and Kim loves every day there. The lingering guilt stabs him only occasionally.

Now he's living completely at Chaim's expense. What is worse, he's totally used to all this comfort and pampering, the servants, the huge apartment, the drives, the wonderful mansion. He's truly spoiled, and most of the time he's not even feeling bad about it.

As he tosses his chosen clothes on the bed, he sees the letter on the corner of his desk. That does make him feel bad. It's from his parents. They know his address, but the street name holds no message for them. Kim has been equally vague about his life and what he does nowadays. He's mentioned that he's not with Linell any more, but they don't know that he's quit working. And they know nothing about Chaim.

Kim knows he can't keep them ignorant for ever, and a few times he's sat down with the firm intention of writing That Letter. He's sat by the desk and stared in desperation at the stubbornly empty paper for a long time, then finally pushed it away again. What can he write? That he lives with the richest man in Dorelion, studies gardening, and Chaim pays it all? What would his parents think?

They'd be baffled at first, then shocked and horrified. They would think the same as everybody else, no matter how untrue and unflattering it sounds, but they wouldn't believe the truth. Sometimes Kim has trouble believing it himself.

He wonders once again at Chaim. Does the man honestly expect nothing more than friendship in return for everything he gives to Kim, or is this friendship really worth it all? Chaim has not asked for anything, nor tried to push Kim into anything that would benefit himself. Coming to live here, leaving his job, going to study, they're all Kim's decisions. He gets, Chaim gives. What does Chaim get?

What would Chaim want?

Kim dresses up slowly. This is the question he wants to forget. It scares him. He's not sure if he even knows what it all means. How would he? It's one of the things that youngsters weren't supposed to know about back home, of that he's certain. He remembers giggling in embarrassment at the older boys' tall stories and secretly doubting whether they were really as knowledgeable as they implied. He remembers feigning nonchalance during breaks and listening to his park co-workers brag about their weekend exploits, unwilling to reveal his ignorance - why give them any more reason to patronize the shy country boy?

Being able to call Linell a girlfriend has been a relief. They have kissed a few times, he's even put an arm around her once or twice, but Linell is a good girl. So she always said, and he was too shy to ever ask for anything more. Would she have said no? Would she have minded? Kim is not so sure any more. A few times they've gone out for an evening walk on weekends in the busier parts of the city, and during those walks Kim has caught glimpses of various embarrassing scenes - people kissing, groping, petting. He remembers how scandalized Linell always acted then, but now he wonders if she didn't, after all, secretly hope that he'd do something of the kind.

And that memory makes him think of Toni, his calculated motions and crude words, and he's scared. What exactly is it that he and Chaim have been talking about that night?

Kim shakes himself like a wet dog. No, he doesn't want to think about it, whatever it actually is. It just makes him feel bad, nervous, paranoid. It's so weird that he never feels scared or uneasy with Chaim - only when he's alone and starts thinking. Therefore, better not think too much. Kim buttons up his shirt, turns up the cuffs, and strolls out of his room.

Chaim is in the hall, head bowed as he inspects the mail placed on a table. He's just come home, so stylish that Kim's breath catches. Dove-gray again, a color he likes, a color that suits him perfectly. It makes him look even taller and more supremely handsome than usual. He smiles to Kim.

"Back already?" His fingertips graze Kim's sleeve. "How was your day?"

"Fun." Kim grins. "We were grafting saplings."

Chaim arches a suspicious eyebrow. "Will I want to know what that actually means?"

"I'll tell you over dinner and then we'll see if you can take the grisly truth or not," Kim teases. "By the way, dinner is probably waiting. Go change now!"

"Your wish, my command!" Chaim disappears in a flash of gray and Kim laughs under his breath. He doesn't understand how he can ever, in his craziest moments, be afraid of this man.

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