The Iron Man [Serial]

Boy's Night

Murphy's nephew and brothers had class in the afternoon. The local children fit schoolwork between morning chores and evening meals with family. It made sense, as Fahim explained it, that the children do schoolwork in the shade of the classroom during the hottest part of the day.

This meant Murphy and I were alone in the house for some time.

He walked me part of the way to the earth closet, so I should know how to find it. The outhouses were all in a line, behind a street of homes and away from the shade of the palms. They were not very different than the toilet I'd seen in Eivissa; only made of a concrete block that I took as a sign of mass production. They stood out from the houses of natural and found materials, so I guessed the structures were part of a government project.

Murphy went to fetch water while I went about my business.

Back at Nablus' house, Murphy showed me to the recently cleaned room and said it was for my use as their guest. He set out a basin so I might wash.

Then he lingered, as if unsure he should leave.

He'd already washed and dressed, so it didn't make sense he waste water by washing again. And if he didn't need to wash, then it didn't make sense that we make an excuse to wash at the same time to conserve water. And again, if he didn't need to wash, it really didn't make sense for him to stay only to watch me.

Somehow, for all that we'd shared a bed, and clothes, I don't think Murphy had ever fully undressed in my presence. He rarely even used a shared bathroom at the same time as me. I'd probably seen more of Garin or Alpha, and that was without trying to look. They just hadn't gone out of their way to avoid accidental views.

That was what Murphy was doing. He was, for all that he could act rakish, almost incredibly modest by my way of thinking.

He gave me this rather queer look from the corners of his eyes before he left. I thought he might just be starting to regret the avoidance.

I washed. Murphy played his sitar.

I don't know which of us had the worst. I really loved sitar music. The way the strings vibrated and reverberated seemed to tug at my very heart. I wanted to rush past the curtain between us.

But, I stayed.

I dressed in shalwar and a kurta with a lungi wrapped over the trousers. It was not a particularly traditional combination, but given the location and climate, my togs were probably not far from reg proper.

Murphy had set aside his sitar to look at the books. He had Scouts in Bondage in his hands as I sat beside him.

"Jules."

"Yeah?" I picked up the newer copy of Miss Nancy's.

"After Saturday, would you go somewhere with me?"

"Of course." I didn't really think about the answer before I gave it.

"You and I alone," he said.

That was what I had thought he meant. I gave it another moment's thought, but still answered, "Of course."

We went back to reading our separate books.

After a while, I asked, "Would you like to read aloud?"

He didn't move, but Murphy raised his eyes. A thin smile brightened his face. He began to read the story to me.

His pace was slower when reading than using conversational English, but it was pleasant to listen to. I noticed a shift in accent as Murphy read; as if concentrating on the text and hearing himself affected his enunciation. I could have believed him a British lad when he read the character's saying "right-o" and "chum".

It was an innocent and silly story about scouts taking on a job in order to earn some club house improvements, and facing all manner of hooligans along their way.

"Read yours," Murphy said.

I shook my head. "It's not like a story, and it makes less sense without pictures."

"Go on, Julien." Murphy looked expectantly at me.

I paged through the book. The chapters were arranged by topic and occasion: coiffure, cosmetics, courtship....

"Tell me," I said, paraphrasing from the book, "if you are seated near your gentleman at dinner, should you or shouldn't you show affection in public by touching him?"

"I think it depends where the dinner is hosted and who is hosting it." Murphy lifted his left hand, which was nearer, and pretended to brush lint from my shoulder.

I smiled rather involuntarily. "Doesn't matter. Wherever you like. Berlin?"

"In that case, my hands should be all over my gentleman." Murphy's hand brushed my neck. "But I doubt Miss Nancy agrees."

I raised my brows. "Miss Nancy says, 'You may have been told it is improper for a lady to show affection in a public setting, but we modern girls know that in mixed company it is not for your benefit or you gentleman's that you display caring gestures, but for others to understand your gentleman is otherwise engaged.'"

"I should think it's a little bit for our benefit," Murphy said.

I turned the book to show Murphy the captioned illustrations: straightening the tie, fluffing the fogle, admiring the boutineer.

"This is why I love European fashions."

I lifted the corner of Murphy's keffiyah and rubbed the fabric between my fingers.

"Jules," he said leaning close.

"Darzi," I said, seeing movement over Murphy's shoulder.

"Pardon?" Murphy straightened, putting distance between us.

"He's outside. We-we should invite him in for tea."

Murphy turned and looked through the open doors. "I don't know if I approve of this."

"But courtship takes place so we can figure that out." I gestured to the book. "A modern girl needs her friends and family to keep her informed so she knows whether a gentleman is worth her time."

Murphy shook his head, but he did stand and walk outside to speak to Darzi.

I stood and greeted them as Murphy returned with our guest.

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Chapter 95! The Iron Man is over 4,200 reads and is hanging in in the Science Fiction rankings. Thank you for all of your reads, comments and votes!

The media for the chapter is the video for "Ho Jao Aazad" by Zoe Viccaji. I like the scenery.