Until my time shall come

8.2K 860 440
                                    

Ferry arrived home late. Again. He hadn't realized how quickly time had passed standing there, under the hazelnut near the tall grass. He still had a hard time believing what had happened. At dinner, he barely ate. He invented a headache and retired to his room on the roof. Lying on the hard mattress which he knew Lavender had filled with herbs and wildflowers, he watched the endless sky above him. How could he not have realized what Matilda felt for him? The signs had always been there. Maybe he had confused love with friendship. But Matilda had always been more than a friend, more than a sister, more than ... And now, it came to the big question—what did he feel for Matilda? He liked being around her, that much he knew. He liked to see her every day. Talk about anything. And kiss her.


But then there was May. He also liked to spend time with May, too, talk to her and be around her. But he didn't kiss May. Maybe if he kissed her, he would know... Now, everything seemed so confusing.


He took his jacket and went out of his room in Lavender's garden. The night air invigorated him and awakened all his senses. He took his flight, thinking of going to see May, just for a moment, on her balcony full of flowers. Maybe that would have brought him some peace of mind.But he found himself without even realizing it, in front of Matilda's house. The entire house was in the dark. He wanted to be able to at least take a look through her window. But he saw Sage sitting in the back garden, lying on the fresh grass and looking at the sky. So he moved away from Matilda's house with a heavy heart. He flew over the town, forgetting to stop over May's house.


Instead, he headed to the Haughty residence, thinking that perhaps the lake would bring him the much-desired peace of mind so he could clear his thoughts. But the lake had new worshipers. On the other side of the lake house, under the willow that kissed the water with the fresh leaves and hugged the ground with the young branches, Ben and Celia were talking. It was very late. The night was cold because spring was, as usual, as moody as a spoiled child. Ben's jacket was resting on Celia's shoulders. But he didn't seem to care, probably warmed by the fire in his heart.


Ferry remained somewhere far above the weeping willow. He didn't want to be the intruder in their story. He didn't understand what they were saying, anyway; to his surprise, Ben was the one who talked the most, and Celia did nothing but watch him and listen. Between them, there was still distance, but it was getting smaller with each passing moment. Then, the words didn't matter. Ben and Celia looked at the lake, then looked at each other. Their hands, resting on the shiny, young grass, were gently touching as if by mistake.


A gust of wind made them both startle. They looked at each other again as if for the first time. A rebel strand of the girl's hair, disturbed by the wind's gust, clung to her face. Ben gently removed it from her cheek and put it behind her ear. Then, he slowly leaned toward her. She put her hand on the back of his head just as gently, smiled, and closed her eyes. Ferry hurried to leave before their lips met. The moment of their first kiss was to be theirs and theirs alone. He felt unworthy to witness such a perfect moment.


Ferry flew over the town without any purpose. All the events of the day made him feel tired, eventually. He headed to Lavender's house when the wind brought a whistle to his ears. Ferry stood for a moment in the air, listening. He slowly descended and hid behind a poplar beside the path that led to Lavender's house. The whistle was coming from above. Ferry stared into the darkness above him. He couldn't see anyone. But he knew the song. He had heard before. In the silence that suddenly fell, the whistle echoed again, hauntingly beautiful. Then, he could feel the wind gained shape, whistling in his ear. Ferry was not thinking. He took flight and stopped only when he reached his room on the roof. He couldn't close his eyes all night.

The Lost Son | Ferry's Tale # 2Where stories live. Discover now