Merchandise
In a large room sits a young boy. It feels large at the very least, to the boy. The ceiling is high and the walls are splattered with paintings, some in ornate golden frames and some in thick wooden ones. Some of the paintings are of men on their horses, some of men just standing. Some are of old wooden ships, one even on fire. Most of the paintings however are just colors. Colors in shapes the boy couldn’t recognize as anything he’d seen before. Some are calm, and serene and harmonious, but some feel chaotic and stressful to him. Violent even. One has red and black splattered paint, viciously thrown about on the canvas, waking a feeling of unease and discomfort in the boy.
The boy sits in an upholstered chair with springs in the seat and ornately carved wooden handles in a dark brown color. The wood smells of oil and age, and feels almost soft to the touch. The boy is dressed in a short sleeved collared linen shirt of a light green color, khaki pants and dark brown leather loafers. The shirt feels coarse on his skin, and the pants stiff. The shoes they gave him are too big, and he can feel the heels start to slip off when he straightens his legs out from the chair. When he bends his knees back, and sits properly like they taught him, his feet don’t quite touch the floor, unless he stretches his toes all the way down. The springs in the chair were fun to bounce on, but he was told to sit still and dared not do otherwise.
In the room with him is a man. He is dressed in a black suit with a black shirt and no tie. On his right hand there is a ring on one of the fingers, of thick gold and a round face with an insignia. The boy has seen this ring and its insignia so many times, and has for long wondered what the symbol means. In the time they have spent together, he has never seen the man take the ring off his finger.
The man has thick black hair, squarely shaped. It runs down into his face, forming an equally thick and square beard around his jaw.
The man’s focus is split, on whatever is happening outside the door to the room, and on the boy, trying to ensure he is on his best behavior. The boy sits in wonderment of his new surroundings, the abundance of it, unaware of what has happened or what will. The man has worked long and hard for this moment and is now trying to make sure that the moments that follow do so perfectly.
On the floor are some toys scattered in an attempt to occupy the boy. The toys are strange to him. They are different from the toys he’s used to playing with. They are too clean, too complicated. A ball to bounce against a wall and a friend to catch it was all he needed, and now he had a little miniature car but no clue what the point of it was.
A crowded laughter is heard suddenly from the other side of the door. The boy and the man both look to the door at its eruption, and then to each other. They hold eye contact for a few moments before the man breaks away. The boy kept his gaze, trying to discern the face of the man and what it meant, but he could find nothing in his eyes that made sense to him.
The man sat twiddling with his ring, faced it toward himself with two fingers, inspecting the sigil on the face of it, perhaps even admiring it. So goes the time a few minutes more, in idle and uneasy anticipation.
Then, a knock. The man snaps to.
The mumbling sounds of a party had ceased, the boy and the man had both only now noticed. The boy looked to the man for clues as to what was about to happen next, as he had been doing for the past few weeks. The man motions for him to stand, then inspects him, straightens his shirt and moves a hand through his hair, making little adjustments with his fingers to put everything in place.
The man straightens his back and raises his jaw slightly, prompting the boy to do the same. Pleased with the mimicking, the man nods stiffly, but does not smile. In the time the boy has been with him, he has never seen him smile.
The man walks toward the door and motions for the boy to follow. Outside it is still quiet, save for the odd whispered words between curious people.
Before opening the door the man takes a last look to make sure the young boy is up to standards.
He swings the big heavy white door open, standing to the side so the boy is visible to those peering in. A wave of awed gasps flow throughout the crowd that meets the boy, a crowd of adults in celebration of something or someone. The smell and warmth of the air changes around the boy as the door opens.
The gathering of people form a sort of hallway, clearly meant for the boy to walk down. The boy was standing still, however. He was in awe at all these adults smiling at him in amazement and wonder. The boy felt admired, cherished. A feeling unknown to him.
The boy could not help but smile, which egged the adults on in more sounds of delight. He looks to the man who is at this point almost desperately motioning him to walk out amongst the crowd. The boy takes his first steps out and looks at the people in their well fitting clothes and glittering jewelry, almost all with a sparkling glass in their hand with some sort of drink inside. All of their hairstyles are neat and tidy. There is a smell of herbal cleanliness to the entire room.
The boy takes a few more steps and sees the adoring looks from the men and women gawping down at him.
He mistakes the looks for caring ones, and starts to let himself believe that his belly will indeed be full forever like they had promised. At the end of the corridor of people stands a man wearing a shiny red cloak over his short sleeved linen shirt and khaki pants. A glittering golden crown dons his head. Beside him is a woman wearing an equally shiny golden cloak over her colorful dress. On her head is also a glittering golden crown, albeit smaller than the man’s. The couple both have slight wrinkles in their face, and lines streaking out from their eyes like rays of sunshine, beaming out from eyes that do little to mask their desires to those less naive than the boy. The warmth of their eyes looking down at him as he approaches them is a look he mistakes for a loving one.
He stops before them, looking at them both with hopefulness.
The man, still standing by the door behind him, snaps his fingers lightly and clears his throat in a demonstrative manner. The boy looks back at him and at the raise of eyebrows he remembers; the boy bows gingerly before the crowned couple. The crowd around him and the couple all erupt in delighted laughter, some giving the man in the black suit looks of respect, as if to say he’s done a good job. To those, he nods back gracefully with eyes closed.
The couple, still admiring the boy before them, see him straighten back up from his bow, still with a hopeful and naive look in his eyes, which only furthers their pleasure.
“Goodness, how lovely!” the woman exclaims, still smiling down at the boy.
She looks to her left and meets the eyes of one of her friends.
“This must have cost you a fortune!” she says, smiling with gratitude.