365

Chapter Four

I WAS sitting on top of a thick tree branch, hiding and holding onto to my long dress so I wouldn't flash. It was uncomfortable, but I was thankful for the large tree trunk I could lean against. I was already nineteen years old and Hank looked the same as ever. I was lucky to get into a good university that wasn't too far from my house and Dads house, the place where Hank was. I was going to learn art, so I could paint. So I could paint and capture moments and capture things, like Hank's smile and gaze.
"Careful while you're up there," he warned me from bellow. My feet swung beside his head, about forty centimeters away from touching it. He didn't look to happy about me climbing up on a tree, which is exactly why I did it. "Just don't fall," he pleaded, "if you get hurt-"
"Stop worrying," I snapped at him, leaning forward just a bit to see his face. His forehead was a bit creased, he but his lips nervously and his eyes squinted with concern. His eyes pleaded and glimmered, kind of like a hungry puppy, and I laughed at him. He watched me laugh at him, curious and confused, then sighed.
"Fine," he muttered, "do what you want." He leaned against the tree bark and slumped against it. He turned his head the other way, not looking at me.
"You should try climb up here," I said.
"I don't climb trees," he said in a tired voice, "it's much too tiring."
I pouted at him and he turned his head to look at me. "Please," I begged. I hugged the tree bark firmly in my embrace so I wouldn't fall. His hands were in his pockets again.
"Kiley," he said, "tonight." His eyes bore at me and I blink back surprised. They looked so hopeful, so clear and sharp.
"What?"
"Come out to the garden tonight," he said in his normal soft voice.
"Why?" I asked confused. I never came out to the garden at night. The trees were scary in the dark, looking and lot with eerie moonlight.
"You'll see," he explained and closed his eyes. He looked pale and tired, but a soft and delicate smile played on his lips. He leaned his head back and rested. "You'll see."
I stared at his face from above a moment longer, slightly worried. He seemed to be asleep, standing and resting on the tree so peacefully. The birds were singing in the distant, the trees rustled, and a soft wind blew. It was so mellow and sweet. Everything. The air was filled with the scent of pollen.
After I realized that Hank was really resting, I pulled back and leaned against the trunk. I closed my eyes too, and rested my head, listening to the sounds of the scene around us.
I could picture us in my mind. A blurred picture scene with two figures resting on against a tree. A boy, dressed lightly and casual with dark hair standing loosely against the tree with his hands in his pockets, resting. A girl, just a branch above him, wearing a long plain dress and a cardigan sleeping against the tree trunk. Her feet hanging and her legs squeezed tightly together. All around them were pink petals and blue spring skies, streaked with an paint-like cloud. It looked so dear, so delicate, and so naive.

"KILEY WHAT are you doing?" I heard Jodie at my door. She opened it slightly and poked her head in. When she saw what I was doing, she opened the door full and wide.
"N-nothing," I stammered, awkwardly standing there with five or six different colored cardigans and blouses in my hand.
"Are you going out?" She asked.
"As if," Miley muttered as she walked past my door. She had a plate in her hand, and her green eyes glared at me. She looked different, short ginger hair and black piercings. Jodie gave a sigh, and rolled her eyes at Miley as she went. Her bedroom door shut with a loud slam and Jodie shook with surprise at the loud slam.
"Aren't you going to eat?" She asked me, her eyes falling upon the mess on the floor. It was a clothing labyrinth.
"I'm not hungry," I said to her, quickly disposing of the clothes in my hands, "don't worry."
"Oh-okay, if you need any-" she began but I waved her off grabbing hold of the door.
"Don't worry," I reassured her, "really."
"O-okay then," she said as I waved her out the room. I closed the door, then turned my back on it. I slumped down and sighed.
"That was close," I whispered.
I looked miserably at all the clothes on the floor. I couldn't decide what to wear. That's when I decided to give up.
Whatever, I spat, clothes are clothes.
I went down the stairs, careful and quiet. Then, I snuck out to the garden, slipping past Jodie and Dad who were watching T.V in the living room.
It was cold outside. A bit chilly, but bearable. It was dark too, very dark. I hated the dark. Almost as much as I hated to loose Hank.
"Kiley," I heard his voice call me from the darkness.
I heard his footsteps coming towards me, and my eyes started to adapt to the dark. He had a smile on his face and a long piece of white cloth in his hands.
"What's that for?" I asked looking t the cloth in his hand.
He stood close to me, only centimeters apart. My body tensed and I dared not to move, but Hank didn't seem mind too much.
"Hand," he said and gestured to my left hand, "give it."
"Huh?"
"Just stick it out," he explained and I listened to him. I lifted my hand up limply, pulling it away from his touch.
He have a tsk, and wrapped the cloth around my wrist, pulling it dangerously near to him.
"Wait, stop," I whined, "careful."
He looked at me carefully then said, "don't worry."
I mumbled and muttered as he tied a knot on the cloth, then tied the other end to his own wrist. His fingers were careful to not touch my skin, and watched them now carefully despite the darkness. When he was done, I sighed a relief that he was done.
"What are we doing?" I asked him.
"Just follow me," he said. He pulled me forward and we started to walk. Despite the darkness of the night, he seemed to know exactly where he was going. "You look nice," he commented, his voice was soft and casual.
I blushed embarrassingly, the thoughts of what happened to the floor in my room filling my mind. "Hank," I called, "is this a date?" When I said it out loud, I regretted that I did.
Hank remained silent for a moment, looking straight ahead. My mind raced at his silence and my skin tingled with worry.
I shouldn't have said that.
Then, he turned his head to look at me.
"Is this a date?" He mimicked me playfully. He had a playful shine in his eyes lit by the moonlight that casted down on us. "What do you think?"
My cheeks burned with redness, and I thanked the night for hiding it. My heart beat was rapid, pounding like a thousand African drums in my bloodstream. My ears burned. My whole body burned, so hot that I entirely forgot about the cold night air.
Hank smiled at me, and playful shook his head, "Come on." He led me through the garden, winding past trees. "Careful, there're loose rocks here."
He dragged me along, and I let myself be dragged. It reminded me of when I was younger, when he first showed me the little stream.
We came to a stop just under a tree. I touched it and felt that the bark felt older than the other trees I felt. From the looks of the moonlight, I saw that there were not any flowers or even leaves on this tree.
"So," I said, "when you bring a girl out on a date you bring her to a dead tree."
Hank didn't laugh, but he bent down to the ground and pulled me after him
"There's a hollow in this tree," he said, "put your hand in it."
I looked at him as if he were crazy. I was in no way going to stick my hand into some creepy old tree hollow. What if there was a snake? A mouse? Perhaps even a skull? "I have to do what?" I asked, not believing my ears.
"Don't worry," he urged me, "just do it."
I looked at him for a moment longer and he patiently watched me. I gave a sigh and slowly crept my free hand into the hollow. My hand tingled with nervousness and breath was shaky. Hank watched me carefully.
"You may have to do some digging," he said.
I grunted. I pulled and scraped out a few dead leaves and twigs. I even found a few chip packets. Then I started to dig at the ground. The dirt was hard, to I scratched it with my fingers.
"You are the most horrible date I've ever had," I whispered to him, just to tell him how much I didn't enjoy this.
"You've had other dates?" He asked, concerned, and almost challenging.
Jealousy?
"N-no..." I admitted, then kept digging.
I felt something hard and started to dig faster. "There's something..."
I pulled out something small and rectangular out of the ground and realized it was a box. It was small, wooden and very, very old. The wood was pale and weak. "What's this?" I breathed.
"Open it," Hank said, and I did.
The box opened easily, in fact, I only merely touched it and it opened. Inside lay a ring. A silver ring. It looked old, and a little chipped, but it was beautiful.
"It's a ring..."
"It was mine," Hank said beside me, "when I was very, very young. My mother... Or someone... Gave it to me. I hid it here to keep it safe."
I held the ring in my dirty fingers and looked at him. "This should be in a museum."
"I want you to have it," he whispered and smiled, "it's the only materialized thing I have."
My eyes burned with with heartfelt feelings, "Hank..."
"Kiley," he hushed me, "one day, you won't be by my side anymore. One day, when you lay in your grave, I will have to live on like this forever, without you."
My eyes fell to the ground. It was true. It was painfully true.
"But even so," he said in a low and heavy voice, "I want to love you despite all that."
My heart started to feel heavy, just like a rock. It was the first time Hank was telling me this. The first time ever, and it hurt to hear the words be spoken aloud.
"I love you," he said so dearly that I could've cry, and I did, "I love you."
I wish I could've hugged him just then. Right then, because I loved his so much.
"Time will separate us, eventually," I said, smiling with tears in my eyes, "I love you."
Cloth on our wrist, that bound is together seemed enough for that moment. My hand twitched and so did his. That's what comforted me the most.