To The Place I Belong

ETHAN

Right! He just has to arrive in the wrong time. Just when I had finally decided to speak to her and make amends for whatever happened at the canteen and two days back at the campus.
"Ethan!"
I turned around rolling my eyes. Not now you idiot!
"Ethan what have you been doing. I met George down the stairs; he said you were here counting the chalks left in the chalk box..." I didn't listen to the rest of it as I found her making way through the empty misarranged seats.
"How do you do that?" I finally asked Ben, annoyed and irritated.
"What? How do I do what?" he asked perplexed and utterly confused.
"How do you manage to ruin my chances of speaking to her every time I grab hold of the last bit of courage in me?"
He gave me a a lopsided grin . "So Ethan was trying to speak to that Salvia?"
"It's not Salvia, it's Sylvia."
"Salvia or Saliva I know not, but look like something's brewing..." He continued in a bemused tone all through our way down the stairs.
"Ok. Now stop. It's you who had pushed me so that I collided with her in the canteen. I just... I just... wanted to say her sorry. That's all. Else I have no interest in jaded souls." Just say sorry?, nayyy Ethan, you can be a better liar. I thought. AND WHAT DID I JUST CALL HER? JADED SOUL? BUT SHE IS BEAUTIFUL...
"Jaded? Oh come on Ethan I see the way you look at her" joined George, in the troublesome conversation.
I don't know what made me ask, "And? How do I look at her?"
"Like it's an exhibition and she is a masterpiece of Michael Angelo" answered Isabel with a grin.
"Oh yes!" said George smiling wide, which soon faded when Isabel's Satanic eyes caught his.

Back at home, my mom seethed at me for flinging myself on the sofa with my shoes on and said in the most crafty tones that food won't be served unless I take my bath. Moms! God!
At the table, food almost choked in my windpipe when I heard my mom saying to me and dad,
"I had been to the Jones. Oh Arnold, they are such nice people. Especially Mr Arthur Jones. Loss after loss. He had been suffering a loss in business when the girl, Sylvia's mother passed away. So sad really. She was just six."
Six! Jesus, no wonder why she appears like that all the time.
Mom continued in the most sympathetic voices while I gulped water to clear my throat, "I had offered them help of all sorts. He says they have Jane. She does all the work. She had been Sylvia's baby-sitter and has lived with them ever since, you know, after her mother's car accident. I just gave him the bacon I had cooked and I bake a chocolate cake for them too.He says it's really kind of us. A neighbourly gesture. " She smiled with a pride and then said what I had feared the most, Ethan, won't you go to their place once, and ask for the sake of courtesy, if he liked the bacon and the cake I baked? And then it came as l had already anticipated,
" Uhh, Ethan, won't you drop in their place today evening as a gesture of courtesy and ask if they liked the bacon and cake? Also assure him that he will get all kinds of assistance from our side." She smiled hopefully. I looked up at dad to give him a clue as to how uncomfortable it would be but gave me a look that clearly said theres no other way. He shrugged it away.
Mom and her neighbourly gestures, God, I hate them!

Much of the afternoon was spent in sweat and curiosity. Such a troubled life, no wonder why she appears so out of world all the time. But landing up at the Jones' gate seemed like a very insane idea. Should I visit Ben before going to their house. No. That would be like inviting the slaughterer to kill the little hope of life in the dead. Ben and his gruesome ideas! I paced up and down my bedroom, sometimes sitting on the bed, sometimes at the table by my study.

My mind now clouded up with only one word. SYLVIA.
...
In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirits... I thought of the holy trinity before ringing the doorbell.
Jane's familiar face peered from a slit as she opened the door carefully enough. For the first few seconds her face showed no mark of recognition. I began to stammer, "I- uh- m- Ethan. Ethan Smith? Across the street..." and then she gave me a sorrowful expression apparently to have held me up at the gate and resounded in her booming voice, "Oh dear, 'm so sorry...come on in" and she gestured with her hand. I, however, had no such intention of getting into the house. I had intended to end up the business right at the door step and hurry back into my house. Jane didn't look like she was willing to let me go even when I said, "No it's all fine, I had just-". She pulled me by my arms and ushered me into the house and shouted, "Sylvia, your friend's here. Arthur look who's here..."
Friend? Sylvia? Oh shit. This is gonna be a great show for tonight. No Jane don't be so courteous. For god's sake. Don't call Sylvia. But the damage was done. I heard the click of a door and out came the face, all pale and sickly as ever, descending the stair-case with slow well-mannered, cautioned steps. She looked ever so confused with the word "friend". Mr Arthur who was apparently at the kitchen drinking water, had rushed out to see who the special guest was that sent Jane bewildered with happiness.