The Last Romantics

Beauty Is On Its Way

I sat very satisfied with my cup, sipping at the hot water as much as my burning mouth would permit, and after a nice moment of silence I regained conversation with my two hosts.
"John, are you going on any more voyages soon?" I wondered. John shrugged his shoulders; as if that was an answer everyone was anticipating.
"I work by offers, and they usually take about a month or two to process. I'm sure another voyage will show up, but as of now I'm living off the salary they gave me for the trip to the Americas. We're paid by the trip, you see. And this one was a rather wild ride." John admitted with a little smile. I nodded, though I remembered back to my dream of his untimely and water inflicted death. I wasn't sure if the dream was prompted by the drugs or some sort of prophesy, though either way I was quite concerned about the idea of another voyage. The sea was a dangerous place, especially when crossing the open ocean. I dare not imagine what sorts of hardships the sailors face, not only in the oceans but also within the strange lands they inhabit. I could only imagine that each journey was a gamble, agonizing not only for the man who was forced to toil in the waters but also for the loved ones they left behind. Perhaps that was why John refused to take Mary as his bride, safeguarding her from becoming a widow if ever he met his end on the water.
"That must be a very dangerous way of life." I commented after the dots had connected in my head.
"Well it is, surely. But it's rewarding as well, gives a man some grit, some muscles, some experience. I think it's a wonderful job to do while I'm young and free." John agreed with a smile.
"What will compromise your freedom in the future?" Mary wondered, looking at John as if she couldn't quite place his meaning.
"Well marriage, I assume." John admitted. "Everyone treats it like some heavy burden, but I'm going to be dedicated to my family. If I've got obligations in England then I'll stay here."
"That's a good man." I muttered, deciding to cut through the almost hostile silence that Mary was producing. I wasn't entirely sure what had gotten her so upset, perhaps the idea of John finding a wife that was not her, and for a moment she decided not to speak. That was no matter, for our conversation did not need her input very much. John and I went on discussing the foreign lands he'd been to, which turned out to be quite the extensive amount when I interrogated him more. Turns out that was his third voyage, and while the first was a very short trip from England to Russia, he had also taken a very long one down to China. I asked him a great many questions about these fascinating places, admitting that here in London was about the farthest I've ever been from home, and lavished in the rich descriptions of new lands, cultures, and ecosystems he had experienced. It seemed as though the world was much bigger than I could ever imagine, though John seemed to have a much more experienced grip on geography and cultures. He said that he had taken souvenirs back with him from all of the lands he had visited, various tokens of good fortune or remembrance. I expressed interest and he promised to bring them over the next time, for me to investigate for myself. I found it hard to offer anything more than fascination to our conversation, for I had nothing that even came close to be relevant to what he had lived through. He was one of the most interesting people I had ever met, skilled and experienced in ways that us poets could not dream of! And knowledgeable enough to hold his own against an academic like myself. I found him perfectly charming, and before long my tea had been emptied and my chin rested on my hands, positioning myself as close as I could get to him with a childish look of wonder in my eyes. It was some relief to observe that John enjoyed talking to me almost as much as I liked listening to him. It was a perfect match of sorts, fascination and respect on either side of the equation, already I could feel that we had a much deeper connection than I had first expected. He had the makings of a poet, I could feel the passion of words in his soul, and I found myself considering going against Victor's word and teaching the boy myself, just to ensure that he had some professional help in the ways of the poetic world. The idea of mentoring John was still in the back of my mind when I said my final farewells, as the reappearance of the Morstan family put an obvious end date on my visit. After a brief introduction (only as Sherlock from next door) I roamed the streets with my hands in my pockets, thinking deeply about what I had spoken to John about and what role he might have to play in the coming years of my life. He was certainly charming, a man that I enjoyed to be around, and certainly not needing any more looks than what he had already been blessed with. He was an all-around genuine person, and I felt that familiar nagging sensation in my stomach, something which felt suspiciously like falling in love. Oh I really did need to keep my heart on a shorter leash; here it was jumping after men of all sorts of unavailability! To approach John now, well it would be perfectly unacceptable. He seemed to be in a committed arrangement with Mary, and no matter what sort of arrangement that was it appeared to be something that did not welcome a third party. Perhaps they were not married, though the time they spent together and the apparent loyalty was not something I wanted to intrude upon. Happiness with another person is incredibly hard to come by these days, even those you thought were perfect always end up to have a flaw of some sort. John and Mary claim to have known each other since childhood, obviously they were destined for something greater than friendship. Who dared take that companionship away from them, who dared steal their love from underneath their noses? I was not about to intrude, I felt as though I had my own matters to deal with. Love is like a fire, burning nonstop though depending on more additives, more wood. If I didn't fuel my fire, if I ignored my feelings for John and kept a good distance away, well surely the fire will burn itself out eventually. I was a fool to submit to the flames, and with some tenacity and self-control I might just be able to burn it down to ashes and scatter them to the wind.