RC.

Ch9 ................ P

I peer inside while Ryan steps in.

R:"Come in."

Several small trains are places on the floor,  on shelves. Old posters line the walls.

Cupboards, equally as old, are all over the the room.

He watches me, silently, no doubt checking for my reaction.

R:"It's my collection of trains, it's the most precious things I have."

T:"Unbelievable! ..."

(How surprising! And ... touching!)

I'm touched by this new side of him. I would never have imagined that he had such a hobby. He who can have everythingh wishes in a snap of his fingers!

T:"It must have taken you years to collect all that!"

R:"It's a lifetime you have before you. It was my father's passion and I get up the tradition, in a way."

R:"You can come closer."

I walk gently amongst the carriages. Some are immense, others are very small. I imagine that, whatever their price, these objects are invaluable to him.

It's his passion. I'm able understand that. Even though collecting stuff has never been my thing, cooking is my secret garden.

It's a time when I get in touch with who I am and where I let out that other part of myself.

I've always thought that people without a passion were deeply sad ...

(For Ryan I think it's more that, He's trying to fill a void.)

I realise how Ryan seeks to fill the gaping void that the premature disappearance of his father left in his little boy's heart.

Most of this to compensate for the love that was snatched from him too soon.

I am genuinely moved and I can't utter a single word. I feel that it would be too much in this privileged moment that he's letting me share.

R:"Come on."

He invites me to sit on the ground in the midst of all his little trains.

(It's surreal!)

The moment is surreal! If I had known that one day I would sit with one of the most powerful men in New York admiring small trains, I would probably have laughed.

It's so cute...

It's hard not to be moved ... I feel like I'm meeting the child who is sleeping inside him. The child we all hide within ourselves.

There are several circuits around us. Trains but also rails, replicas of stations.

He sits relaxed, in this male, half cross half knees up posture. Resting his forearm on his knee up.

T:"I would never have imagined!"

R:"Why ?"

T:"I don't know ... I imagined you spending your afternoons playing golf more than fiddling about with trains."

R:"In fact, you see me as one big clichè, thanks!"

He gives me a mocking pout.

(I make up for it.)

T:"No ... Well ... I mean, that it's not the first thing that comes to mind."

R:"Mmh ... You're cute when you try to make up for things."

T:"I... I'm not trying to make up for anything!!"

In front of my reactions he lets out his agglutinative laughs.

T:"Ok, you know what. I was right."

T:"Sorry, but at the same time, you do drive an Aston Martin and have your own private jet skis?"

R:"You score a point."

T:"Know, dear sir, that I'm always right."

R:"No, you're not. But you do like to believe it."

I stare at him frowning, trying to be intimidating.

But all I manage to get out of him is a burst of laughter.

Which suits me fine, actually.

T:"Do you make some models yourself?"

R:"No ... What interests me is to find those that were made by the greatest modellers."

(Of course, what a question! ... You ask him if he likes watercolor, he'll tell you that he has a couple of Turner's hanging on his wall ...)

T:"How many models do you have?"

R:"Mmh ... I must have several hundred."

Obviously ... the contrary would have surprise me. Ryan rarely does things by half!

He grabs a little train like a child would do with his favorite toy. I hold myself against him.

R:"You see this one, this is the very first that my father gave me."

I watch him manipulate the object gently.

T:"It represent a specific train, I suppose?"

R:"Yes it does. It's a replica of the blue train. Have you heard of it?"

T:"Yes, I know it by name."

R:"It's one of the most legendary trains in history, and it transported illustrious people such as Queen Victoria and Churchill ..."

R:"It went from Paris to Rome "

T:"Your father made the model?"

My question amuses him.

R:"No. Real artists worked on such models in collaboration with historians."

R:"My father was passionate about them, but not connoisseur enough to make them himself."

T:"It must be meticulous job!"

R:"You have no idea how many hours work have been put into it!"

I watch the other trains around us. There are really a lot.

I bend down to kiss him on the cheek. I'm touched that he should show me his treasures.

T:"Thank you for showing me all this, Ryan."

He watches me affectionately, as he flashes me his million dollar smile, which makes my beating heart thump faster.

R:"I would have liked to have shown you them in action, but we don't have the time."

T:"Oh, do they really work?"

R:"Of course, but we would have to build the whole circuit and it would take serval hours ..."

T:"Ah yes..."

R:"Well, now you know a little more about me!"

He smiles at me.

(It's strange to see him like this. But ... I like what I see.)

T:"I'm curious to discover everything else about you! For now, I love what I've found!"

I smile a little mischievous smile at him.

R:"There is not much else for you to discover about me!"

His smile widens.

T:"I'm talking about the things you hide behind those airs you take on."

R:"Me, taking on airs?"

T:"Yes, you know the imperturbable manager type."

This time he laughs more heartily.

Seeing him this way makes me feel so happy! Something deep, much deeper than the carnal attraction I felt at the beginning, is growing between us ...