Date: Sat, 3 Nov 2001 06:07:22 -0500 From: C. E. Jordan Subject: THE VILLAGE BOY 9 The Village Boy c.e._jordan@mailandnews.com Copyright c.e. Jordan From the last episode: I took Eliza Bell on a little tour of my apartment and she chose a bedroom right next door to mine. It had it's own bathroom and was painted in pale golden tones. The queen-sized bed had plump comfortable pillows and champagne-coloured satin sheets. In addition to the large green fichus tree filtering the light from an open window, I moved flowers from other parts of the house and placed them all over her room. There wasn't much of a view, but she'd be able to see clouds sailing past in the the sky above while lying in bed. Eliza was tired again. I helped her into bed and brought her some fruit and something to drink from the kitchen. She was asleep before I left the bedroom. ___________________________________________________________ THE VILLAGE BOY - Part 9 I made my way to the media room. I had expected to find Jeremy playing some shoot-em-up game on the large screen, or looking at some loud action movie, but I was totally surprised to find him simply laying back, eyes closed, listening to music just like I've done so many times. I was even more surprised to discover that the voice which filled the room with it's velvet rhythms was none other than that of the lovely Shade, from her old `Diamond Life' CD. I had to smile, this was definitely a boy after my own heart. Jer didn't hear me enter the room, and his eyes flew open when I brushed his lips with mine. He quickly thumbed the music down low. "Hmm...I expected to hear rap...or rock...anything but Shade." "I like to listen to that old time stuff....it makes me feel good....but I like rap and rock too." "Well, I've got a bit of everything on those shelves. Later on I'm going to play some very special foreign music that you've never heard...but it's all brilliant stuff." "Cool." I pulled him into my arms. "I've got something to tell you." I was going to wait until both his mom and I could speak with him, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. "What would you think of living here with me....permanently...you and your mom?" "WHAT?? You serious? You're not kidding me? Mom too?" "Nope, not kidding, and yes, Mom too....and you can stay starting right now." He didn't say anything else, and his quietness had begun to unnerve me. Was I too presumptions in assuming how he'd feel? "Um....J, you don't have to do it, but I thought it would be best for your mom, and you....you both need somebody to look after you....." Jeremy leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. It was sweet and simple. "Thank you Charles, nobody has ever cared anything about us before. Why are you doing this?" "Don't you know? Can't you guess?" In a small boy's voice he asked, so tentative, and so innocent, as if this was an unbelievable thing: "You....love me?" "Like crazy kiddo." I didn't turn to face him, but I could feel his eyes examining me. "Let's go pick out a room for you." "Okay." The four bedrooms were sort of clustered together in a semi-circular arrangement on one side of the apartment.The master-bedroom was somewhere in the middle of the group. Eliza's room was to the right of mine. Jer immediately took the one on my left. I showed him the special door which connected his room to mine from the inside. I also taught him how to use the intercom which connected all the rooms. It would be useful if Eliza should ever need to call someone during the night. **** I had originally intended to take them out to visit my main painting studio which was a few blocks away from my condo. I'd even planned to take them to the movies and to dinner. But none of that happened. Eliza was clearly too weak to be running around like that. So we had dinner at home and the only excursion we made was around the corner to buy some clothes for Jeremy, and a change of clothing for Eliza. Buying clothing for Jeremy was an remarkable experience. His style of dressing was quite individual. He put things together in totally original ways. And I was constantly reminded what an amazing-looking boy he was. As he chose his clothing I just sat back and watched. I saw how people stared at him--girls and boys, men and women. It was if he'd suddenly stepped out of some movie. Earring. Necklace. His hair was hanging loose, a cascade of black over his shoulders. His torso was tapered to a narrow waist and he had long slim legs. Everything he tried on hung, just so, on his body, as if made specially for him. I saw too, how all the salesgirls, young and old, rushed to serve him. They joked and acted silly with him and just stood around obviously dazzled by his looks. He accepted all this attention in a cool matter-of-fact way. I guess he was accustomed to it. He kept running over to where I sat to model each piece of new clothing. As he spun and turned for me I was as dazzled as the salesgirls: "Do you like this one?" he would ask. "Does this look okay?", or, "Is it too much?" Nothing could ever be too much for this boy. He could very easily be a professional model. Somebody actually asked if he was one. I want to use adjectives like, `cute', `nice', even `handsome' for Jeremy. But "beautiful" is the only word that fits. How did I get so lucky to be able to call this teen-dream mine? Oh well..... We left the store with a lot more things than I expected to buy. Jeremy felt guilty and kept saying, "I really don't need to get all this stuff, maybe I should take them back..." "Don't be silly, school will start soon, and you'll need all this plus a lot more stuff. Relax, I love buying things for you." He reached for my hand, as was his habit, and squeezed it. (to be continued)