Holly & Yew

C15

Chapter 15 : Can We Trust The Sun to Arise? ... Or the Stars to Map The Skies? ... Green as Grass, Sweet as Wine ... What is It We Rely On?

The Exhibition was marvelous. If Tom wasn't so set on being the Prime Minister, he'd want to be an inventor: making impossible, beautiful things and aweing the masses with the creativity and brilliance of every creation. To be one of the chosen who could will their fleeting dreams into tangible objects with form and substance.

Harry had gone off by himself to hear his doctor talks. Tom focused on the pulse of their magic, his instinct whenever Harry was out of view. They had both dressed up for the exhibition. Tom had found and secreted away a beautiful cream houndstooth plusfour and jacket combo for Harry last Christmas from the donations, and Harry had finally grown enough to fit into it with the waistband and sleeves rolled up. Tom had also struck gold and was wearing a light blue knickerbockers and jacket set. It was only slightly used. He and Harry looked striking together, which gave Tom a strange, giddy feeling. He would dress both of them up like this all the time once he had the money for it. He wanted him and Harry to always look like a matching set.

Marlow had brought Leyland along for the Exhibition as well (it made for an awkward car drive), and the two of them were off somewhere looking at something called a trampoline. Tom was observing a portable radio called a "walkie-talkie." Aptly named.

It would be lovely if he and Harry could have a pair in the future. Then they could always get in touch if they needed one another. Tom wondered if something similar could be done with magic.

"Tom!"

Harry tackled him in greeting.

"Did you enjoy the talks?" Tom asked.

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"I got a little lost when they were speaking, but I recognized a lot of words," Harry said. "I can't wait until I get to study medicine myself. I want to be the best doctor in the world," he confessed. "Or at least I hope I can be. That way, there'll never be anyone I can't help."

"Don't hesitate and say it properly," Tom said fondly. "You will be the best doctor in the world."

"But I can only try," Harry argued.

"Then you've already admitted defeat. There is no trying."

"Who died and made you Yoda?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

Who was Yoda? A philosopher Tom didn't recognize?

"I admit I am not familiar with his writings," Tom grudgingly admitted.

Harry laughed like he thought Tom was making a joke.

"Come on, let's go look at the automatons and music boxes!"

Harry dragged Tom along to a different section of the exhibit.

Harry was most enchanted with the swan automaton that caught a fish and a music box that played three different songs. The latter was decorated to look like a Fabergé egg. Tom contemplated stealing it for Harry, but he couldn't take the risk. Mrs. Cole would no doubt notice its appearance and report him to the police. She had been watching him like a hawk ever since Tom had revealed his knowledge of Mr. Cole's fate. And no doubt, Harry wouldn't like it, goody two shoes that he was.

Tom was more fascinated by the automaton that could write and draw on its own. It was brilliant.

"How is its handwriting so perfect?" Tom wondered.

Harry made a grumpy face.

"My handwriting is good too," he said sulkily.

Tom hid a smile, amused by Harry's jealousy. Of a lifeless machine, that too. Well, Tom had never been the most rational when it came to jealousy either, so he was in no position to judge.