The Three Perfections

Ch 7: The Cabin

“Every line is the perfect length if you don't measure it.”   ~ Marty Rubin 

Chapter Seven:  The Cabin  

When Galvyn enters the cabin again, I am standing in front of the mantle still captivated by Keane’s image, and I only vaguely remember getting up from the couch.  Keane smiles at me in the photograph, and my eyes well up with tears.  Until I saw his image in the picture, I had forgotten how much I miss him, and how much of a void his absence left in my life.   I turn towards Galvyn as he enters, and give him a questioning look.  He stands just inside the doorway with an armload of wood, and his eyes meet mine.  His gaze travels to the mantle where I had been looking a moment before, and he glances back at me with a look of understanding.

“I know…” Galvyn says. “I have a lot to explain.”  

“Yes, you do.” I say.

“After I build a fire, I will explain.” Galvyn says, as he carries the wood to the fireplace, and starts arranging some logs inside. “But we really need to get some sleep, so there won’t be enough time for me to explain everything tonight.  Some of it will just have to wait for another time.”

“Fine.” I say, feeling defeated.  I didn’t want to have to wait for any of it. I wanted to know everything, and I wanted to know it now.  But I understand that Galvyn is right; we need sleep if we are going to have the energy we will need to be on the move tomorrow. 

I sit back down on the couch, studying Galvyn as he adds some tinder to the bottom of the logs in the fireplace, and I am drawn to the tattoo on his arm.  While watching him through the window, I was only able to catch a quick glimpse of the tattoo in the darkness, so I wasn't able to see any detail, or tell what it was.  Now, as he is crouching in front of the fireplace a few feet away, I can clearly see the tattoo that adorns his bicep, and it is the image of a large, intricate snowflake, colored completely in black ink. Normally I wouldn’t think of a snowflake as being very masculine, but for some reason the image on Galvyn’s arm is actually quite powerful, and virile. I am curious regarding his choice of a snowflake, and I wonder if it has significance. 

Galvyn lights the tinder, and small flames start licking at the logs, sending firelight flickering through the room.  He gets up and comes to sit down next to me on the couch.  He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasps his hands together. He looks down thoughtfully at his hands for a moment before speaking.

“Where should I start?” Galvyn asks.

“Since we’re short on time, how about we skip the beginning, and start with that picture?” I say.

“Fair enough.” Galvyn says. He gazes up at the photograph, and his eyes become distant. “That picture was taken by a mutual friend, about three months ago during one of Keane’s visits to Tamil.”

My heart seizes for a moment. During “one” of Keane’s visits?  There have been multiple visits?

“What do you mean one of his visits?” I ask. 

“Keane has visited Tamil about once a month since he was exiled to Estrucan.  That is, until that picture was taken three months ago. That was his last visit.  I haven’t seen him since, and I wish I knew why.”  Galvyn looks at me with sad eyes.

I am overcome by two emotions; anger and fear. Leaving Estrucan was a crime punishable by death. Why had Keane risked leaving Estrucan and visiting Tamil?  And if he was going to risk his life to come to Tamil, why hadn’t he visited me?  He was like a brother to me, and it angered and saddened me that he wouldn’t have tried to visit me too.  But the strongest emotion I feel is fear. Had he been caught by the Petalists leaving Estrucan? Is that why he hadn’t returned?  Was he still alive?