Strangers in the Garden - 1. Story

Strangers in the Garden

by darkfoxprime

Summer has always been my favorite time of the year. Everything is so alive and warm. The hills are filled with green and gold, the fields move with the swaying of the high grasses, and the smell of Mother's roses fills the air. The sun is setting over those hills now, setting the high clouds ablaze in wild oranges and reds, and fading to a deep blue overhead. Everything about summer is beautiful.

Mother and Father are having another one of their parties, I guess. I didn't know about it - they haven't spoken to me in more than a month; not since That Night. It's a strange party. No one is dancing; they're all just standing around the reflecting pool, not far from the windows here in the garden house. Now they're lighting little candles and floating them in the water. I wonder why Mother is allowing it; they'll make a mess in the pool, and the pool boy won't be back to clean again for another couple of weeks.

The pool boy. He's mostly what I think about, locked in this little house. I haven't seen him since That Night, when Father caught us doing Things Boys Should Not Do Together. I remember watching him clean the pools, the reflected sunlight dancing over his tanned chest. I remember talking with him, sitting with our feet in the big pool watching the sun drop behind the mountains, and listening to his pretty rolling accent. Mostly, I remember his tentative touches, the way his skin was so soft, the way it felt when we hugged, when we kissed, when we...

I must have lost track of the days. I thought it was summer, but already the leaves in the trees have changed color and started to fall, the hillsides have turned brown, and the roses are gone. The garden is still beautiful - Mother wouldn't have it any other way - but I always miss the summer.

Here come Mother and Father down the garden path next to my house. They're taking one of their strolls through the garden. They've been working too much, I think - Father's hair is turning gray, and I can see more lines on Mother's face that her lady's maid was unable to cover up. I know they haven't had any parties lately - not since that strange one with the candles. And it's been so long since I've seen Mother smile.

When I notice that they've paused next to the door to my little house, I rush over, looking out at them . I'm careful not to touch the expensive glass panes; I don't want to make Mother any angrier. It doesn't matter, though. Like all the other times, they just continue on. Like all the other times, I try the door, but with no real hope; it still won't open for me.

Like all the other times, I end up thinking about That Night, and the nights that followed. I should have known what would happen. I knew Father wouldn't approve - after all, Father is a Member of the Government. Just like he did each time he fired a servant I'd become friends with, he reminded me that he could afford no scandal, and could allow no rumors to start. But Mother... She'd always said that she hoped I would fall in love like she had. When even she didn't understand what I was feeling, that's when I ran here to hide. I'd hoped she would approve, but she wouldn't even talk to me after That Night.

I only wish I'd told the pool boy how much I love him.

I just woke up, but I feel like I'm still asleep. I move slowly around my glass-walled prison, feeling the cold of the winter leech my energy out. Mother always insisted that there was beauty in every season, but I never felt that way about these dead months. All the flowers are gone, except for a few in the trees. The hills are bare, and the sky is dreary and gray.

I think Father must have fired the gardener. The reflecting pool looks right, but the meadow on the other side of my house has been replaced by an intricate formal garden. The last gardener would have never allowed such a thing. He believed that the lines of Nature must be reflected in any garden he planted.

I wish it were summer time again. I miss the warmth, I miss the colors, and I miss seeing my pool boy. I even miss Mother and Father. They haven't walked the garden since --

The world is waking up again. Spring is finally here. The gardens are filled with daffodils. Mother used to call them little drops of sunshine, and told me they promised that summer was coming again.

Yesterday, a man and woman came into my garden house. I didn't recognize them, but if they're here, they must be friends of Mother and Father. I guess Mother and Father told them not to talk to me, however - they wouldn't even meet my gaze, much less converse with me. I gave up trying to speak with them, and just stayed out of their way.

Here they come now, strolling down the path just like Mother and Father do. I wonder where Mother and Father are? Why have they not walked through their gardens? Do they hate me that much, that they won't even come near? I don't know what's going on anymore. I'm locked in this prison, and I haven't seen Mother or Father in ...

Warmth is all around. The garden outside my windows is all in bloom. But inside, I just feel cold. I don't care about the summer sun anymore. I miss my Mother and Father, even if they do hate me. These strangers walking through Mother's gardens leave me ill-at-ease, and I've retreated into a forgotten corner of my little house, out of sight of the windows. Besides, Father has hired a new pool boy. Funny, he sort of looks like my Tony did, except he's old.

I think there's something wrong with me. I sleep all the time now. Outside my house, the seasons keep changing, and the gardens grow and die, but I feel apart from it all.

I think I know what's wrong. It all started with That Night. That Night, when I ran here to hide, and then I --

I've been asleep for a long time. There are all sorts of people around, strangers in the gardens. They don't belong here. Or maybe I don't. I'm going back to sleep. Maybe this time, I won't wake back up.

I woke up feeling warm today. This is the first time I've felt the warmth of summer in ... in a really long time, I think.

Outside my house, people are walking. I see couples hand in hand, some old, some young. A doting father is talking to his daughter in the formal gardens, and people are looking at the reflecting pool through little black boxes.

I don't know why I feel like this. Something woke me up. I feel filled with the sun. I haven't felt like this since That Night. I rush from window to window, looking out at the strangers in the garden. Then I see Them.

They're holding hands as they walk next to the reflecting pool, talking in low voices to each other. One points at my house, right at me, and the other one holds up his little black box. Then he lets it fall, leans over to the first boy, and kisses his cheek.

I cringe, waiting for the other people around them to start jeering them, or worse. Instead, none of the other people seemed to notice. I look around in amazement at them all. Did they not see?

The two boys are still next to the reflecting pool. The one with the little black box is pointing it everywhere, at the flower beds, at the pool, and at the clock tower, while the other one watches with this little smile on his face.

I look around at the other people again. It's plain to see that these two boys are in love, but everyone is acting like it's normal, like they see it every day. Like it's okay.

They're right in front of my house now, facing me. The shorter one is leaning his head against the shoulder of the one with the little black box. They're looking at it while the tall one fiddles with it. Now he's holding it out in one hand, his arm stretched out straight, and they're both smiling at me. The shorter one's lips move. I can't hear what he's saying, but I'm sure it's I Love You.

They're in love, and it's all right. Just like that, the whole world seems right. I can feel the love flowing out of them. It's rushing through me, and filling me up. The tall boy is lifting his little black box a bit more, moving in slow motion. The love flowing from them to me feels like it's going to make me explode. Then I see his finger touch the box, and in that moment I burst out of the walls of my prison. I see the whole garden all at once. I see the people, the ponds, the main house. I see the graves of my Mother and Father. I understand now. It's my time. The warm feeling inside me, that love that was so beautiful, presses out in all directions. Only one thing remains...

I love you, Tony Acosta, my pool boy.

"Hey Lee, take a look at this!"

My boyfriend glanced at the camera's LCD screen. "What?"

I looked again, and blinked. "Weird. I could've sworn I saw someone in that window."

Lee leaned against me, and stretched up to kiss my cheek. "Silly Michael, no one's in there, see? Come on, let's find you some more pictures to take."

©2008 Johnson Earls

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