It is our fate to remain as we were born. Every attempt to escape our prison of flesh is destined to fail. Imprisoned in our circumstances we have to be who we are; nothing more and nothing less. Happiness cannot be achieved when we look outside of our natural self. And so it happened (not by accident) that one day the lost boy returned to the roots he had tried to cut off seven years ago.
It was a cold and bluish winter's morning. The sun was still tired from her latest run around the world wherefore her rays barely reached the ground. Withered branches were shaking under the weight of bygone winter days when Thomas, woken by his responsibilities as the butler of Downton Abbey, stepped out of the building in order to smoke some cigarettes in solitude. As the head of the downstairs stuff and an outcast by nature, he had learnt to embrace this solitude a long time ago. He neither liked nor despised it now and this uncommon inner peace was more than he had ever hoped to achieve.
The bitter cigarette finished, his eyes were wandering lazily along the horizon as he suddenly saw him – nothing more than a black dot on the horizon – and yet distinctive in his self. Minutes were passing uncounted while he remained stoic still until both men were facing each other after years of separation.
'So you are back,' Thomas said with stillness in his face and body. He did not dare to move in case the dream-like situation would dissolve before he had a chance to talk to the only man he had ever loved.
'So I am,' Jimmy smiled like he was still a boy. But he was not. His hair was shorter, his face golden in the shallow morning rays albeit the natural surroundings remained grey and blue. His eyes were clear and attentive, framed by some lines of age. Thomas languished for the feeling of Jimmy's skin under his fingers but remained motionless.
'I heard you are the butler now,' Jimmy added, 'and I thought you may need a trustworthy valet.' It was not a question but his voice got higher at the end of his sentence displaying hesitation just for a second before the wind carried it away.
'Yes, I am. Mr Carson retired five years ago-and now I am the butler. Who would have thought it?' He smiled shyly and the smooth milk-like skin crumbled under the joy of the moment before he whispered: 'It's good to see you, Jimmy. It really is.'
Jimmy nodded, eyes soft.
'Yes, it is. I think I missed you." Again he tried to disguise his question created by uncertainty as a statement but Thomas had learnt a long time ago to decipher Jimmy's meaning regardless of the tone of his voice. And Thomas smiled.
'And I thought what you missed the most was a life away from service.' They laughed and all the distance was closed in the moment they hugged.
'Oh, Thomas,' Jimmy said, 'the musician's life has nothing to show me since you are not with me to see what I see, to feel what I feel. Why should I hold onto a life when my dreams always bring me back to the place where you are? I needed my time to understand that what I wanted was a boyish adventure. But now I want a life. And I would be content to live with you as your servant, if I may not as your friend; so that I could only be near you.—I was lonely and unhappy, Thomas, because I reached for the stars without looking at the earth first and so it happened that I overlooked my own happiness in the moment of foolish blindness. I'm sorry, Thomas, I'm terribly sorry.'
'Don't be. I'm glad you are here now. Neither past nor future should be the judge of our felicity.' He reached for the other man's hand and finally felt that this dream-like sequence was indeed a moment of reality.
'Let's go home,' he whispered and pulled him lovingly towards the house, a remembrance of days past and days to come.
'Home.' Jimmy smiled and nodded. Thomas was right. This was his home and whatever was going to happen in the future, it would not affect him because here he was safe. And loved.
And so it happened (not by accident) that one day the lost boy returned to the roots he had tried to cut off just to find that they had been growing all the years and that he could have never existed without them.