Because he loved him..

32. Intuition

Paul's Point of view

Harsh light tugged at my eyes and I tried to move my head to the side. It didn't help my disorientation. Who switched on the lights? I opened my eyes and brought my hands up to shield my eyes.

Sunrays glared through the windows and I looked at my wristwatch. It was 7 in the morning. I looked around. Right, Ray and Sally were supposed to leave at 6 in the morning. They must have already left.

Apparently, Sally hadn't quite gotten over the last night's altercation because Samar was also just beginning to jerk himself awake. He nodded at me and stumbled towards what I assumed was the bathroom.

There were two bowls of oats on the table but neither of us was in the mood to eat. I had a hunch that if Sally was here, we wouldn't be able to leave without eating.

We quickly washed up and made our way outside to my car. The first stop was Arlo's school.

The boundary walls were made of concrete mixed with chunks of glass. The boarding school itself was a formidable building, with faded red walls styled like bricks.

"I did my schooling from here too, Though I stayed in the hostels and Arlo is a day scholar." Samar told me. I nodded at him. So, they provided good amenities to Arlo.

Suddenly, I remembered Amay telling me that Samar once scaled the walls of his boarding school to return to him midsession.

I looked at Samar. Was this really, the boy who loved Amay so fiercely? Was he also recalling the memories of his time here?

From his surefooted ways, he did seem to know his way around here but something was missing. He didn't stop and stare longingly at the walls or classrooms or anything. The nostalgia if any, had been erased by being the parent of a ward here.

We asked around about Arlo but no body had seen him. Arlo's homeroom teacher didn't even spare a glance at Samar before telling him that she had no clue where Arlo was. Apparently, this was a thing. Was Arlo a truant?

It was a bit disheartening but not entirely unexpected. The next stop was Amay's school. Amay would often tell me about the school and how it came to be but nothing could have prepared me for what I felt there.

The whole thing seemed to be shouting out aloud that it was Amay's. We were hit by the most soothing fragrances. The smell of grass, a slightly muddy smell of water and the redolence of flowers and ripening fruits.

The hum of noises like the ducks and the birds chirping and the chattering of kids was overwhelming.

Children chased each other giggling. Some of them were feeding the birds, other sat around in circles, drawing. The place was alive.

It was so different from the prim world of Arlo's school where discipline was enforced. It seemed like a place where children were genuinely happy to learn. It was hard to imagine that both of the schools were a part of the same world.

A fig tree stood on an island in the middle of a pond teeming with ducks and geese.

There were a couple of hillocks on our left and all around us there were trees that had small plaques mentioning their species and names.

I could make out the outline of the outhouse, still adorned by wildflowers of multiple hues. This was where Amay and Arlo had stayed after his dad died.