Nineteen Sixty-Four // Starrison

Chapter 10

 George was walking through the prole's district's streets again. He kept asking himself how crazy was this — how crazy was him? Why was he doing this?

Because you love Richard, answered some voice in the back of his head, which he couldn't deny.

He had his last saved money deep in the pocket — paper dollars with a Big Brother's picture, enough, as he hoped. Harrison remembered the small jeweler on his way to the Grey Owl's bar. But who would need jewelry or antiques nowadays? Who would buy fancy things while being hungry? Who, except the mad man George was?

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a month since they were together. Within this one month they've seen each other countless times — at John's, at their secret clearing or other places, talking, kissing, making love. When they had no chance to sneak out together, they talked in the lunchroom, on a sidewalk, coming back from work together, simply anywhere they could. Harrison was too desperate to ruin a chance of seeing his lover. He loved him, and he knew he would never love anyone that strong, passionately, unbreakable; feelings, burning like a fire and George consumed by these flames.

There were no rules that could stop them — not from two lovers that seemed like made to each other.

Since their conversation about the Brotherhood at the clearing, Richard became more insistent. Nagging and convincing, bringing his arguments all the time. The younger one knew Starkey was right. But on the other hand, that form of a riot was filling him with an uncontrollable fear. He felt like being nailed down to the wall — wasn't Starkey right? Wouldn't it be for a greater good, for the incoming generations and better world?

Finally, he saw a shop he was looking for — small, with cracked windows, squashed in between the other shops. George walked through the door slowly, welcomed by a delicate sound of a bell.

Inside, the jewelry shop was small and tight, with tables and shelves set all along the wall. Harrison watched the old things with a fascination. He couldn't even name some of them — books, published probably right before the Big Censorship, pictures of people that lived so long ago. Past's aura was filling this entire place, and he stopped to inhale an omnipresent smell of the dust and old paper.

"Good morning," George heard raspy voice and the thin, friendly looking old man emerged from behind the counter. Although the grey hair made him older, he looked about forty. "What are you looking for here, boy?"

"Good morning. Do you, uhm, sell rings here?"

"Of course, boy." The seller smiled, his face brightened up. "I keep them all. It's been so long since anybody bought jewelry here, ah, there isn't a demand on it these days. Follow me." He led Harrison to a small counter, where behind the dusty glass laid old rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings. Silver, gold-plated, copper... everything. "That's all I have. From these cheapest to more precious. Here are the engagement rings," he added, seeing how George was looking at them curiously.

"Engagement?"

"Oh, right..." The older man became lost in his thoughts. "An old habit. Forgotten. Probably never coming back. You know, boy, long ago, when two partners were deep in love, the man bought a woman the ring. It was a promise, some kind of contract, that they will never leave each other and will soon get married. Not like today... Ah, back then it had deeper meaning," he sighed. "Look carefully at them, boy."

Sure, George was looking carefully. All of them, shining, beautiful, tempting. Which one should he choose for Ringo?

After a while of thinking, one ring caught his attention — in the contrary of the others, tarnished from old age, it still shone delicately. The ring was gold, with a tiny blue diamond carved beautifully. Harrison pointed at it without a second of thinking.

"Oh, yes! I was sure you'll pick this one," the man murmured. "Great quality. 8 carat. An elaborate work."

"How much do I pay?"

"Eighty shillings. Ah, beauty is losing its value now." George died a little inside, hearing this, bummed, knowing pretty well that he'll never afford this beautiful ring.

"But for you..." the seller added after a few seconds. "Thirty five shillings. You're a good boy and you have honest, brave heart. It's rare today."

"Thank you," said Harrison, his voice full of true gratefulness. "Thank you so much, sir."

The seller took the ring from behind glass and put it in the small, red box; the younger one gave him money.

"I hope you'll be happy. And safe," said the man as a farewell.

"We will," George promise, and he really meant it. To be happy and safe.

"Your girl is really lucky to have you."

Girl. Harrison smiled, said goodbye and left, feeling a shape of the small box in his pocket.

* * *

George watched as Ringo played guitar with adoration. Papers full of lyrics and chords were lying all around them in a comfortable mess. Candles lightened their faces, trying to disperse the darkness. The younger one was sitting and waiting patiently for his lover to finish, but he was in no hurry, enjoying the music.

Finally, Starkey put the instrument back and crawled to George, sitting a few inches next to him, looking at him with his blue, wide eyes. Harrison couldn't help, but smile, because they finally belonged to each other, which was only an uncertain dream lurking in the back of their minds only one month ago. And now — it was their reality.

Yes, Richard was worth every riot. And every punishment.

The blue-eyed man touched his lover's cheek, bringing him closer and kissing slowly. They would eventually have to go back home but it didn't matter now.

They pulled apart and George said mysteriously:

"Close your eyes."

Ringo blinked at looked at him, puzzled, but obeyed. Harrison put the shining ring out of the box and examined the thing more carefully. And then slid it on Richard's finger.

Ringo opened his eyes and looked at the ring with an amazement, now decorating his finger. He sighed. "Oh... you... how?"

"I bought it. For you. It's... something like an engagement." George couldn't stop smiling, however, he didn't think he should.

"An engagement?"

"A promise. I can't guarantee you that we'll get married, because it's impossible... but I swear, I'll always love you. I will never betray you, not even tortured. Never. I swear to you, Richard Starkey."

There was a silence after his words, until two lonely tears streamed down Ringo's face. Tears of happiness.

"I do, too. I swear I'll never stop loving you and never betray you. Until I die. I swear, George Harrison." After those words he threw himself in George's arms. They kissed, but this kiss was different from the others. Full of love and their new promise. Two lovers, now finally together. Well, maybe not from the government's point of view, but from their hearts, and that was more important. Nothing could stop them.

Suddenly the comfortable silence was filled with a laugh.

"Queers," Lennon snorted, smiling, looking from the hatch, probably watching them from the very beginning.