Into the Light

5. Long and Winding Road

You're a man with more money than you can ever spend, Chaim my friend, and your standards are high. Whatever you own, it has to be the best quality. You don't forgive sloppiness in workmanship or choice of materials, and your property is always kept in impeccable condition.

Therefore it's only to be expected that your big carriage, the one for long-distance travel, has carefully padded and cushioned seats of the finest, most luxurious leather. Designed for maximum comfort.

And yet I must say that, after spending this fucking many days sitting on them, my bottom is getting slightly sore.

So is yours, I bet, and Kim can't be totally immune to any ill effects either. But you're both so irritatingly oblivious as you lounge there, on the seat facing mine, together. Your arm is around Kim's shoulders, he's snuggled close to you, head resting on your chest. You've pressed your cheek on his hair, smiling ever so slightly. Your eyes are closed, and you both seem to be dozing off, despite the swaying and the clatter of multiple hooves, and the squeaking of the suspension.

I try to stare out of the window, but it's so goddamn boring. Utterly and devastatingly boring. We're on a road that follows a small river pretty closely, and ever since this morning I've seen the blue glitter somewhere in the corner of my eye whenever I glance outside.

I've also seen several bridges, little copses of trees, and an endless succession of little pastures separated by low fences, with cows or horses or sheep grazing on them. Then the occasional thicket, and then yet another pasture. They look rather brown and barren, after all it's hardly proper spring yet, but the animals are outside anyway.

I've tried to entertain myself by making bets as to which animals will populate the next small field I see. But that soon got boring, too, because we obviously reached an area where the farmers were in the habit of letting all their animals out together, and so I won each time, whatever my guess. Then, after spotting an enclosure full of geese, I decided that my life had suddenly got far too exciting, and dropped that little game.

Have I told you how much I envy you - both of you? You, Kim, because Chaim is so totally infatuated with you. It makes me swallow bile, the way he looks at you. Like you were something so fantastically beautiful and so fucking precious that he can hardly believe you're real. It makes me feel hollow, that look, and every now and then I feel doubt crawling forth. It whispers in my ear, asking if I really think I stand a chance any more. I don't like that voice, because I never ever acknowledge defeat, baby.

I also envy you, Chaim. I envy you the easy familiarity you share with your sexy little 'Demieni. You're so obviously comfortable with him, and he with you. He so obviously cares for you, thinks the world of you. It looks... nice.

I never thought I'd feel envy for something like that, something so goddamn domestic, so sickeningly conventional. Such things are not for me. I aim to dazzle, to shock, to take your breath away, to overdo things. Spectacular is my second name. So shameful, therefore, that I now find myself meekly sitting here, in this big comfortable carriage, cursing the numbness of my well-shaped bottom. Hoping that we'd soon get somewhere to stop. Hoping that someone would hold me in his arms. Pining to stretch my legs properly.

And why am I sitting here? Because we're traveling to Dirna, where half of Dorelion plus their grandmothers apparently like to spend their fucking summer holidays! Can you get any more middle-class than that?

I smother a sigh, flex my arms, try to find a different and yet comfortable position. Chaim slits an eye open.

"Tired?" He yawns and squeezes Kim a little tighter.

"Bored," I tell him. "How far was the next inn?"

"What's the time?" Chaim begins to half-heartedly dig his clock from his pocket, but I'm quicker with mine.

"A little past five." I groan. "We haven't had a pause for ages."

"This is a good, level road," Chaim points out. "No hills, just steady going. The horses aren't having a hard time now. My driver said we should reach the inn around six."

"Another hour or so..." I sigh. "I'll go crazy out of sheer boredom!"

"Come here," Kim says. He's awake too, looking at me levelly. "Take a nap to pass the time."

"Come where?" I hold back a grimace. Haven't I told you not to rub it in? "Your side looks crowded enough already."

"There's room for you." Chaim shifts closer to Kim and pats the seat on his other side. I raise my eyebrows but Chaim just smiles. "Come on, Toni."

I can see Kim's fingers digging slightly into Chaim's jacket as I stand up and sit down next to them. Hah, baby, so you didn't think I'd take you for your word? Well, news flash: you were wrong.

Yet I'm a little shocked, but pleasantly so, when Chaim's until then free arm sneaks around my shoulders and pulls me close to him. Once again I breathe in the mixture of scents that is so Chaim. It's delicious, so good, so attractive. My brain whispers that it's also supposed to turn me on, but my body is apparently too travel-weary to act upon the idea. Which, frankly, is only good considering the current situation.

"Better?" Chaim murmurs. I can only nod. I hear Kim sigh on his other side, and burrow closer. Chaim purrs that low laughter of his, it thrills me to hear it so near again. The arm around me is firm, I let my eyes close and my body sag against him. This feels good. My almost big brother Chaim, like sometimes, years ago...

I drift into a haze, into a garden that looks strangely familiar. Fern Valley this must be, its gardens and parks, back when the sun was still hot and bright and my father was still around to let me sometimes spend weeks on end with the Theleathi family. With Chaim. We would go on picnics by the brook, lounge underneath the big trees like this, holding each other tight, sharing boyish kisses.

My arm tightens around Chaim's waist, then brushes against another, and with a shock I realize that it belongs to Kim. He doesn't let go, and neither do I.