The Word

Chapter 2: Welcome Home

The groggy IT chief of Opticon Internet Provider Systems stepped inside the icosagonic building, called The Eye. The name of this imperfectly roundish building originated from a satellite capturing its picture from up high like an eye staring into the sky.

Setting everything aside, Edward in that one moment, found himself enchanted with the building. He realized that it had been a long time since he was moved by something of beauty.

"Will you come inside today?" The Eye's owner was already halfway through the entrance and into the corridor. His slick physique was covered with a burgundy business suit, his ash-blond hair parted from the left and laid carefully to his scalp. His controlled appearance was coloured with a small but warm smile on his thin lips. Au contraire to Alfie's youth, Edward was losing any remaining signs of vitality with every passing second.

Standing at the threshold with two bags, too heavy for his recovering body... Sunrays parted the clouds and illuminated the old man. Alfie turned around fully, "You are home here, Edward and we will have a lot of days to enjoy the garden, the weather and everything else, but first, you need to rest." Alfie said, crossing the distance in between, holding Edward firmly by his shoulders. Edward put the bags down, the butler and one of the maids emerged from the side doors. His bags were inside the house before he was.

"Is it the fact that I had a massive concussion or are you filthy rich?" the old man said quietly, a sly smirk appeared on his cracked lips.

Alfie's melodic laughter filled the giant corridors of the Eye, "Both; and yes, I am filthy rich." Alfie said, opening his arms wide up in the air, in his gesture was a warm welcome. Edward could barely walk without slipping on the uncut marbles, each large piece was at least 3 metres long and 3 metres wide. His chest spasmed with a painful muscle flex every time he took a step forward.

Alfie always had a thing for the grandeur, and he weaved The Eye with one secret, one tale, one miracle per wall, making it more magnificent than anything, anyone could fantom to live in. "So? What do you think?" Alfie turned around to face this new friend as they walked around the house.

"You are a spoiled child with too much time and money in his hands, making his own cardboard fort."

"This is the meds talking," Alfie said, unaffected by this old snob's words.

"Yes, and I am very much thankful for them," Edward said grunting. He stopped in the middle of the corridor. So unexpectedly silent. For all Alfie could fantom, Edward was trying to assess the situation. Like a wounded old wolf, he was being cautious, deciding whether this was a honey trap or not.

"A question..." Finally broke his silence and resumed his steps.

"Yes?" Alfie watched the old wolf, approaching with calmness. He was curious, of course, for this was perhaps the first time Edward initiated a conversation.

"Why were you in the hospital?" Edward asked, his voice hoarse and bags under his eyes looking like worn-out pillows.

"To see how you were doing, of course. Look how beneficial it turned out for you." Alfie said in a sincere tone, leading the way to one of the guest bedrooms prepared for Edward's arrival.

"No, why were you in the military base?"

Alfie waited to answer his question until they arrived at his guest's room. It was on the first floor to make Edward's comings and goings easier. The room contained a queen-sized white bed, a large wooden desk with lots of blank papers and a small antique library with books mainly focused on politics, world order, health technologies, civilizations still residing in wildlife and a few poetry books. Pop culture magazines and gazettes were stacked loosely on the desk. Two glass doors were opening to a small balcony for Edward to take in The Eye's vast green garden. Two bamboo chairs with fluffed floral pillows and a round desk were going to provide both the touch of nature and isolation from people as Edward desired. The room was humble, compared to the rest of the estate. Edward's bags were already emptied, and his clothes were placed neatly in the wardrobe sitting beside the corner. His old leather-bound notebook was on the nightstand next to his bed.