"May is back," Ben announced as soon as Ferry entered his room.
For the past five years, May has been spending the summer holiday at her aunt's, in the Big City. She came back before school started.
Ferry's heart skipped a beat. He was thinking about May every day. Even now, when he had so much on his head, his thoughts were always looking for her, running towards her, finding her and taking comfort in the memory of her smile. That brought him peace, if only for a while. All summer long, he had been taking care of a special flower that grew from a magical seed which Lavender gave him. The flower blossomed only under the moonlight and stayed in bloom during the day. The petals looked as if made of mere moonlight, soft and transparent. And its scent scattered all over the street; for that reason, Ferry kept it hidden under a wicker basket. He's been carrying for it and talked to it all summer long. He wanted to give it to May when they would meet.
"Will you see her?" asked Ben while he was keeping himself busy with a telescope he's been building over the summer. He was still not happy with it.
"I don't know... It's always hard to talk to her after she's been away for so long. What am I supposed to tell her?"
"Well, I don't know if I'm the most suited to give you advice," said Ben frowning, stopping from what he was doing. He hasn't been wearing his glasses for a while, although his sight didn't get any better. Now, he had to screw up his eyes so he could see.
"You should know. What are you saying to Steph after you haven't seen each other for a while?"
Stephanie Michaels has been Ben's girlfriend since eighth grade. The girl was the feminine version of Ben. Yet she had chosen to keep her glasses.
Bookish, curious, serious. She was always wearing her hair back-combed, sometimes with a white fillet in the middle of her head. She was very perseverant, too. Her family moved to Goodharts when she was in the fifth grade. And Stephanie showed her interest in Ben from the very beginning. They even had the same aspirations — to study, get a scholarship at one of the colleges in the Big City, and leave Goodharts to follow their careers.
Eventually, at the end of the eighth grade, Ben accepted to be her boyfriend. Yet Stephanie didn't join their group. Matilda couldn't be happier with her decision, claiming one Ben was enough. Besides, Stephanie didn't care about anyone but Ben, anyway.
"Nothing..." Ben eventually said, obviously more preoccupied with his telescope than having a conversation on such a sensitive subject. "She's always the one who wouldn't stop talking."
"The thing is, each time I want to tell her something, I choke on my words..."
"That means you like her," Ben concluded. "That's what happens to me when I talk to—"Then, Ben stopped. "But do you like her? I mean, do you really like her? More than a friend, that is."
Ferry felt the warmth coming all over him; just as he always did when he was thinking about May, or talking about her.
"I think so," he said, his eyes to the floor. "Each time when she's around, I wish I could touch her hair, and hold her, and kiss her... I mean, I never felt anything like that for a girl. Don't you feel the same for Steph?"
Ben fussed on his chair. He didn't look at Ferry when he said, "I suppose so... I don't really like to talk about it."
What Ferry liked the most about Ben was the care his friend had for him. Even now, when he knew about the new-comer in the Donovans' home, he didn't inquire him. He was always trying to chase away bad thoughts and Ferry was grateful for that.
Ben was saved from giving details about his relationship with Steph by Belinda, the oldest of her younger sisters. She stormed in the room, without knocking.
"Ben, guess what we have for dinner?" she shouted. "Meat pie and vanilla cream tarts." Then, her dark, blackberry eyes met Ferry's, and the girl became flustered. She tried to tidy up her curly hair, the colour of a raven's feather. "I didn't know you were here, Ferry," she said.
"Bella, how many times have I told you not to rush into my room like that," Ben scolded her.
"Can't you knock first? Now leave! Go play with your sisters!"
The girl retreated; but before going out, she made faces at Ben.
"They're your sisters, too," she snapped back. "Besides, I don't play anymore, I'm not a little girl. I'm fourteen years old," she said before slamming the door.
"Girls," Ben muttered. "They're going to make me mad one day. Are you staying for dinner?" he asked.
"I can't," he said. "I must be home for dinner, now that Andrew is back," he added, and the smile faded from his face.
"I'm sorry," was all that Ben said.
Ferry nodded. Ben had all the reasons in the world to feel sorry for him.
* At dinner time, the clock's ticking was the only sound in the room. Andrew was eating heartily, as usual, under Peter's moved gaze. Eileen, however, hesitated to look at any of them, keeping her eyes to her plate.
"So? How was your day?" Peter asked in a cheery tone.
"Well, I stayed home the entire day," said Andrew in between bites.
His father didn't like his answer. "Ferry, why didn't you show the town to Andrew?" he snapped, frowning.
"Well, I— "
"Actually," Andrew interrupted him, "I wanted to stay home. I never had a room of my own. I have plenty of time to visit the town. I'm going to enroll in school tomorrow."
"You do that, son," said Peter. "If you need anything, anything at all, just ask. I'll take care of your uniform, clothes, or anything you need for school."
"Thanks, Dad," said Andrew, smiling at him.
Peter nodded, with tears in his eyes. Ferry could read both pride and fondness on his face. Instead, his mother got up from the table and went outside without saying a word.
* When all the lights in the house went off, Ferry got out the attic window, heading towards May's house. His heart was racing at the thought of seeing her.
But somewhere, in a hidden corner of his heart, sadness was beginning to make itself comfortable. His mother's eyes were not smiling as before. And that broke his heart. She was worried about him; he was certain.
He has decided to avoid flying for a while until he would know the stranger's intentions. He was carrying the pot with the flower he wanted to give to May. He slipped in on sideway streets that led to her house. It was late, and the streets were deserted. The moon was hiding behind the clouds, refusing to guide him that night.
Ferry sneaked out to May's balcony, then, threw some peddles in her window. A few moments passed which to Ferry seemed to last forever. Then, a pale light lighted up the room, and the balcony door opened. May went out, and Ferry jumped up to the balcony.
"I've been waiting for you," she whispered. She smiled at him, waiting. Then, she was shaken by a shudder. "Let's go inside," she said, "it's getting cold."
When he came into the room lit only by a night lamp, Ferry bumped into a bundle of coloured balloons with a sign where there was written: WELCOME HOME, MAY!
The girl caught his gaze, and said, slightly embarrassed, "Billy brought them. Isn't it nice of him?"
Ferry's gaze turned blurry. Of course! Billy Pride! He hated how his name sounded on May's lips. He imagined Billy giving the balloons to May, that smirk of his all over his face. Then May, intending to kiss him on the cheek, and Billy, as if by chance, turning his cheek, his filthy lips coming closer to May's. Closer... And closer...
"Ferry, are you all right?" he could hear, as in a daze, May's voice. "You looked like you wanted to strangle someone." The boy felt her light hand on his shoulder, then he unclenched his fists.
The girl didn't seem to have grown over the summer. She was barely reaching Ferry's shoulder, and she had to look up when talking to him. Her hair, the colour of the chestnuts, was falling down her shoulders. She was wrapped in a soft, white shawl, but Ferry could still guess the lines of her frail body.
"I'm fine," he said, smiling at her.
"Please, you can sit wherever you like," she said, after an awkward moment of silence.
Ferry chose a chair by the bed. He was still holding the small clay pot with the moon's flower. He decided to ignore the balloons which occupied almost half of May's small room. He had so much to tell her. That he thought about her every day; that he missed her each time he passed by a garden of flowers; that he couldn't wait to see her again and never wanted to let her go...
Instead, he said, "It's getting chillier by the day..."
May nodded, smiling. "Yes... Yesterday, when I left, it was raining in the Big City."
"How's your aunt?" he asked, happy he found a subject of discussion.
May turned towards the window. "Unfortunately, she doesn't feel very well," she said in a low voice. Then, turning back at him, "But forget about her. Rosemary told me your parents' lost son is back. How is that possible?"
"I don't know," Ferry said. "I still don't know who this boy really is. He looks very much like my Dad... And he treats me and Mom nicely. But I need to stay alert. It's hard, especially because my Mom is hurting because of this..."
May stepped closer, and sat on the bed, close to his chair. Ferry could feel the sweet scent of her hair and her presence, so close to him, made him breathe faster.
"Everything is going to be all right," she said, placing her hand on his arm. Ferry watched her white hand and his heart began to race. He didn't dare to look into her eyes. Instead, he touched her bare arm with the back of his hand. His hand slowly climbed up her arm, reaching the soft narrow spot of her elbow.
"Listen, May..." he started.
But the girl retreated her arm, and stood up, wrapping herself in the soft shawl again.
"Is it for me?" she asked, pointing to the flowerpot.
Ferry stood up, too and handed it to her.
"Yes... I planted it for you. It only blossoms under the moonlight. I would show you if there was a moon..."
"Thank you," she said, taking the pot, their fingers touching for a second, happy to meet again. "It's late," she added. "We should get some sleep... I know I'm tired."
Ferry smiled, heading towards the balcony door. He turned one last time and looked at her, trying to delay his departure.
"Good night, May..."
* That night, Ferry was heading home, hitting every stone on his way. That's not how he imagined seeing May again. Why was it so hard for him to show what he felt for her? Was she feeling the same? He knew she cared about him, but was she seeing him more than a friend?
And then, there was Billy Pride. He was showing himself interested in May only to spite him, he could tell. He was just as arrogant, teasing and mocking him each time he had the chance. Ferry had decided not to mind him, but he was finding it harder and harder to ignore him. And now, the situation with this new boy.
Without even realising, he was home. He jumped over the fence, and in one leap, he was under the window of his old room. Instead of going to his attic room, he was now on the frame of Andrew's window. It was open, the thin, white curtains waving in the soft wind. The room was dark. He peered inside. His fairy sight enhanced in time, piercing through the darkest darkness.
The bed was empty, untouched. From the corner of the window, he could see the entire room. Andrew was nowhere to be seen. When Ferry was about to leave, thinking the boy might be in the kitchen for some water, something caught his eye. There was someone in the corner, by the cupboard. A stunted figure. Ferry took a better look. It was Andrew. He was sitting there, with his face to the wall, his body bent over as if in great pain. He wassee-sawing. From his throat, a moaning of an injured beast emerged. The sound was muffled, yet clear enough in the silent night.
Ferry stood there for a while, feeling chills down his spine. He knew no one could see him in the dark, especially in a moonless night. Yet the boy turned his face towards the window, all in fours. His beastly, haunted eyes were staring at him.
Thank you so much for reading this new story! I'm waiting for your amazing comments and your over the top theories. I said it before, but I can't say it enough: I feel blessed with readers like you :)