Thank you Jupanuma and The High Warlock of Glitter for your reviews and support on this first chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too.
On a side note, I have a mea culpa: when I wrote M. Lightwood, I had meant to write Mr. Lightwood. It is just that in French, 'mister' is not shortened the same way than in English. It has been corrected.
Chapter 2: A home, a misfit and the past
Coming back home, Jace crashed on a sofa in the living room. He still couldn't believe it. He was kind of proud.
Mr. Lightwood, the man that never stayed during his reading session, wanted private ones now. Even better, Jace had found someone who could be touched by Magnus' story. Someone to whom he could read the fickle pages and release the words out. The right reader for the sparse story.
Getting out the box with the pages and the books he had brought, Jace got up and started to place them in his bookshelf. He brushed the covers delicately. Sometimes, the golden eyed young man wondered why he cared so much. 'They are only books, right?' he thought with shivers of disagreement. He, for one, did not have a lot of empathy, but somehow, when he read, it was the only time he could truly care. Whether he was alone or reading to a stranger, its only in a word induced world that he could connect with the characters of the books, the person he was reading to, or even himself.
Interrupting his musing, he heard the door open. Quick glances at the clock told him it was 4'O clock, which meant it was the youngest of his foster guardians. The man's appearance was betraying his Chinese legacy, which made it obvious for most that Jace was not his blood related family. And because he was only in his mid-thirties, most always thought he was his cousin or something.
But truth had its way to be complicated, yet so simple at the same time.
" Hi Jem!" exclaimed Jace over his shoulder before returning to his cleaning. Now that everything was placed, he needed to dust off the shelves.
" Hey, kiddo. Is Will home yet?" asked Jem as he entered the room.
The 'kiddo' aged of seventeen years absolutely hated being called that way by a man who was barely twice his age now.
" If I recall correctly, he said just yesterday that he had the evening shift today and would be back at 9, Mr Carstairs." Replied the blond as nonchalantly as he could.
"Mr. Carstairs?" frowned Jem, not used to such a formal tone.
Jace smirked, victorious. " Oh, I am so sorry, Jem. It's just that at the retirement house, they teach me to respect the senior citizens."
With an exaggerated gasp, the older of the two grabbed a pillow on the couch and threw it at Jace. Quickly the latter caught it. His mistake was to throw it back, amused.
" Alright, alright. I got the message." surrendered Jem already, laughing. " So, how was your day? Went at that retirement house again?"
" As usual." shrugged Jace, focusing on his task and trying to ignore the other.
Quickly the amusing feeling had left them. He didn't like it, when Jem was trying to get close to him and just chat. He didn't like it because he would truly like it to get to know the men too. The golden-eyed young man didn't have a cold-heart. But getting to know meant attachment, attachment meant caring and to care only made it harder when time came for Jace to leave the house. When time came to say goodbye and leave. When time came for separation.
'' You read to those old people, right? One of our books?'' tried again his foster guardian.
But the only answer he got was. '' Yeah.''
Separation was ineluctable.
"Okay." sighed in displeased resignation Jem, dropping the subject. " I am making some noodles for dinner, would you like that?"
" Okay." Simply replied the blond.
He wasn't difficult, nor obnoxious. Jace just didn't make it easy to approach him on a personal level, to his guardians' great dam. After three months, they still didn't know that he didn't really like noodles.
Jace was very careful to avoid Jem the rest of the time or only to answer with jokes and short reply his questions at diner time. That was until Will came back. Now, Will was his other guardian, as him and Jem had wanted to have a foster home. Things were that as an openly gay couple, the state had their doubts. Wrongfully so, but still they didn't have any wards. Except one: Jace. When they met, since it turned out that Will was a far away relative, the state accepted his request to have the golden-eyed young man at their place.
For now.
" I have received news from your social worker, Jace." happily announced Will when he arrived. He gave a quick kiss to Jem before looking back at them, his blue eyes gleaming as if he was bringing good news.
But the blond suspected what she might have told him, and if he was right, it wasn't any good news. Not for Jace. It was soon that moment when every others houses, every other guardians he had, abandoned him. The three months evaluation meeting. Just the thought of that meeting stressed him.
" What is it?" still asked Jace, not raising his head from the book on his laps, but unable to find comforts in words anymore.
" In two weeks, we have that evaluation meeting. You know, the one where the social worker takes in what we have to say on our dynamic and how you adjust. They can see whether you fit here or not." announced Will, sharing a glance with Jem.
They did that sometimes, like communicating in silence. Maybe there was a bit of paranoia in the young-man's interpretation, but he was pretty sure his guardians were asking each other 'should we tell him?' It did nothing to help the anxious feeling he had.
'Should we tell him that we don't think he should stay?' feared the blond.
'' That's all?'' wondered Jace closing his book. When they didn't answered, he got his answer. '' I'll go to bed then. Tomorrow I have a private session at the retirement house, so don't expect me here for lunch.''
'' Wait, Jace, already? What private session, a reading? With whom?'' interrogated Will, which considering his job as a police officer, was a professional deformation.
Not replying, fearing his voice might not be even, the golden-eyed young man made his way up to his room.
Drama at a retirement home was not what Jace would have thought.
By drama he did not mean tragedy. That was not only expected, but sad. No, by drama, he meant that assembly of old people – mostly ladies - gathered around the counter in the main hall. They all seemed a bit distressed and angry at the manager. And from what he could get, the manager didn't seem to want to do anything about their problem.
Away from that group, leaning on a wall, looking at the ordeal, there was Mr. Lightwood. Jace approached him and casually leaned on the wall too.
'' Good morning. So, what is going on here?'' asked the blond.
By now the manager had left, pretending to have much more important business to attend to. No matter what the issue was, the people here thought it was important, and Jace believed the administration should not overlook it. It seemed unfair.
'' They moved the puzzle tables upstairs, and some people are too physically weak to get up the stairs for them. And since there aren't a lot of hobbies here, they are mad and want the owner to get them back down.'' sighed Mr. Lightwood, straightening up with a bit of difficulties. '' Come.''
Intrigued, Jace followed the old man. They headed upstairs where the infamous puzzle tables were. Mr. Lightwood grabbed a side of the table, and sent his inquiring blue eyes toward his companion.
'' A little help?'' he said.
Nodding, Jace understood what the older one wanted to do. If higher ups wouldn't put the time and energy to get the tables down, then he would with Jace's help. Repair themselves the mistakes done unfairly. The golden-eyed young man agreed with that kind of thinking.
It took three trips back and forth the stairs, and they even lost some puzzle pieces, but in the end the tables were back down.
Before anyone could talk to him, Mr. Lightwood shied away toward his room.
'What a nice man.' thought Jace, glad he had help him get the tables back down.
Jace was about to follow him when a couple came to him. A lady with short white hair pushing around a man in a wheel chair. She said: '' Thank you, young man. My husband and I really enjoy those, but with his condition, it was impossible for us to continue our puzzle hobby.''
It was like for those two, Jace had become the hero of the hour. Wasn't that too much? Still, it pleased him a bit, that recognition.
'' It was nothing.'' he dismissed. ''I wasn't alone, anyway.''
'' Well, thank you.'' she still said before leaving him and rolling her husband to the first puzzle table.
Quickly, Jace made his way to room 19 – Mr. Lightwood's room. The blue-eyed old man was there waiting for him. The only difference from yesterday was the two chairs he had placed. One was near the window that was filtering the golden rays of the sun, the other a bit farther. Obviously the former was for Jace, the reader.
'' Is it always so lively here?'' smirked Jace, taking place on the chair set for him.
While he was taking out the box with the loose pages – Magnus' story – Mr. Lightwood answered him. '' No, it is quite boring here. There are small problems from times to times, but...''
Jace had the impression that the end of the sentence was 'nothing exciting'. Was the man bored? Was that why he enjoyed those bits of Magnus' story? Because it was different? Never completed, just enough to hint at the life the protagonist had?
Possibly.
'' Oh and here.'' said Mr. Lightwood, getting out some money and presenting it to Jace. '' I realize that you don't have to do this, but you still came. And well, since you are here I thought that-''
'Is he blushing?' analyzed the golden-eyed young man. The man really was shy. He looked at what was presented to him: a twenty dollars.
'' No.'' declined Jace, getting out a page already. '' I don't need it, and it is not for money that do this.'' He interrupted himself, thinking better than to admit he had wanted to catch the elder's attention since a while. '' It gets me out of our house, so it's good for me.'' he decided to say as justification.
It was the truth in any cases.
A part of him was glad that Mr. Lightwood did not ask any thing on that, as he didn't really want to talk about his situation. Another part was also a bit regretting that he couldn't tell the other more. But Mr. Lightwood looked awkward just waiting in silence.
Instead, Jace raised the pages and started to read.
December 21st, 1946
Something incredible happened today.
And I am not talking about my last exam for the year. Yes I've finished! And even if it was English, all those hours studying with Alexander really did pay off.
Note to self: NEVER show him those bits I wrote where I doubt myself after his studies. He would totally blame himself while it is just my self-esteem that was lacking in that department. Lows happen even to the best.
Anyway, the incredible thing.
It started when we were walking back to our respective homes from school. I think I spoke the whole way about how happy (and grateful to him!) I was for the exam. I am pretty sure I was excessive enough to make him embarrassed, which if I was honest was kind of my goal. Those red cheeks were just too much fun.
Why do I think that way about him? He is my best (and only) friend, so of course I care about him. But why do I feel all stressed and happy at the same time? Both when I was walking back home with him, or now thinking about when I was walking back home with him.
Then after supper with the family, Alexander came by to my house so we could hang in my room like every day after school. We talked about our plan for the winter vacations and apparently he is going to the countryside with his family for Christmas. It was a tradition apparently.
I already know my holidays are going to be long here. When my parent moved, no one from our old lives followed. It is the first time I will be alone without friends or family around. Only my parents and I in a time that wants us to take time for our family and friends at this time of the year.
Wow that's... not that exciting.
So I told him about that, and how lonely I was dreading this end of year to be.
'' But you still have your parents around?'' Alexander asked.
'' Yeah, but only them. Sometimes I miss my old friends. Ragnor, Catarina. I fitted with them. Here I don't fit.'' I admitted.
He was quick to deny my words. '' Of course you do.''
'' Alexander, you don't understand.'' I told him trying to explain my point of view. '' I am the foreign kid. They all think I am Chinese at school. (That 'Chinese' thing offends me to no end, but I didn't tell him that.) I am the one odd out and I am aware of it all the time.''
'' I understand what you mean. The one odd out. But it isn't like you were a stranger among your family. You said it, you are new. Give yourself time to adapt and others to understand that boarders are opening.''
I still don't know what he means by ' it isn't like you were a stranger in your family'. And I am ashamed to say I was a bit too wrapped in my brooding to ask him about it.
'' You are right. I really should stop feeling like that. It is a bad omen for the New Year to start of with negative thoughts. I am not alone.'' I said, to which he replied:
'' You are not.'' he confirmed before fishing something out of his pocket. He said those precious words that I absolutely need to quote: '' I won't be here, so here is a little something... Kind of a reminder that you have someone here. Me.''
I noticed his nervousness and how he repeated three times 'here', but it didn't matter. That what was so incredible.I have someone here. Him.Just that did something to me. I wasn't used to have someone so considerate, much less someone who dared tell me.
Then, Alexander blushed again and added. '' You know as a friend.''
Sure as a friend, why would he need to specify?
The gift that was foldedin an handkerchief was a simple leather bracelet. Something I could wear everyday, that fits everything, and that is kind of discreet. I love it.
I had to reciprocate, as a way to confirm that I feel the same way. It was only good manner and I kind of wanted him to have something of mine he could have too, to think of me when he would be away.
I looked into his deep pretty blue eyes and an idea struck me.
I quickly got up and got from my wardrobe a blue scarf. '' That scarf I used to wear all the time during the rain season back home. With winter here in New York, I think you could use it too.''
Alexander, ever the gentleman, tried to protest. '' I can't accept it. It is yours.''
'' Not anymore, it is a gift. Something you can wear too, while away or here. And it fits you.'' I insisted, placing it around his neck. It really did fit him. I was glad he had it.
The rest of the evening, we played cards while talking about the usual-
The page was torn here, and Jace stopped reading.
He knew the point of that entry was Magnus and Alec bonding together. But there were some words that that Alexander had said that had struck with Jace. 'The one odd out. But it isn't like you were a stranger among your family.'
Was that how Alec had felt, when he had told those words to Magnus? Like he was a stranger among his family? Why? No matter the reason, Jace could understand those feelings. He always felt like the one odd out. Well actually, he was the one odd out, going from foster family to foster family like that.
Great, the only other that could understand lived in 1946.
'' The one odd out.'' whispered Mr. Lightwood, looking straight in front of him. It was as if he had read Jace's thoughts. He didn't let it destabilize him though. Mind reading was impossible, he knew it. It was just a coincidence or the feeling echoed in him too.
'' Have you ever felt like that, Mr. Lightwood?'' wondered Jace.
'' oh yes.'' scoffed the blue-eyed young man. Then he smiled down at his left hand. He glanced at the old man's left hand and saw a band on the second to last finger. '' Though at one point, when I thought I would always be alone, always be a misfit, I met someone.''
'' Isn't it a bit cliché?'' teased Jace, taking a new page out.
He almost felt disappointed about that. Not that he was unhappy the older got to find someone who shared the loneliness with him. It was just that Jace would have rather been told that this feeling disappeared on its own.
'' Maybe.'' sighed Mr. Lightwood, looking at Jace. '' But even then, it was because of someone I just randomly met whom decided I was worth their time, that I had a family. If our lives had never crossed paths...''
Jace was surprised by how those words echoed in him. Strangers that entered one's life to create familiarity. According to Mr. Lightwood, it was possible. Maybe that was how friendship, and love worked. Jace couldn't help but hope a bit that it was possible, and that maybe some strangers would one day let him stay.
'' You talk to the past, Mr. Lightwood.'' noticed the frowning golden-eyed one.
'' Do you mind reading another part?'' asked Mr. Lightwood, changing subject.
'' Way ahead of you.'' said the blond, smirking as he showed the new page he had taken. Jace got the message, no more talking about family.
January 7th, 1947
I have received some postcards today! Coming from my friends who stayed back home, I have to make at least a translated copy here.
Magnus,
After three months, I am starting to miss you. Maybe your out of the box manners were a breeze of fresh air. I hope your bright energy will not lessen, do write us a bit more.
Happy New Year.
Catarina
Aw, my cold friend Catarina. She always had that cool and no nonsense feel, but I knew (okay, more like hoped) my warm personality had touched her. Still, it was always pleasant to read that one had not been forgotten, even if at the other end of the world.
And my oldest friend Ragnor too, had sent me a card in his tiny I-have-to-cramp-everything writing.
Hey Magnus,
Well, Jakarta is not the same without you. The Dutch left, I can actually walk in the neighbourhood without someone shouting at me about some kind of prank ''we'' did and I don't seem to have that perpetual headache anymore. So yes it is incredibly boring.
I miss you alright, but I still wish you the best for this New Year.
Don't forget to write.
(I can't believe I am signing this)
Your friend, the 'cabbage prince' Ragnor.
Reading that warmed my heart, but also worried me a bit. Have I been so busy with daily life, learning English, hanging with Alexander, starting piano lessons with my father that I had forgotten to write to my friends? I record here all my days, so it is easy to forget at times...
Okay, it is decided I am going to write them a letter to take and give news at least once a month. It is not distance that is going to rid me of my friends, that is my additional New Year resolution.
January 8th, 1947
It is-
Again, the torn ending blocked Jace from reading the entry furthermore.
'' Well, that was a boring entry.'' he declared, discarding the page and fishing out another one.
'' No it wasn't.'' protested Mr. Lightwood, not pleased.
Jace frowned, not understanding. '' But nothing happens here.''
'' Plenty happens here. It's in the details. We just learned that the Dutch left Indonesia, making them independent. We learned that he missed his friends and is not in contact with them. We learned that Magnus started to play piano with his father that year. '' enumerated the man. '' I want to know everything about him.''
He said those last words with such despair, Jace wondered why it would be so important to him. Even better, why had this particular story caught Mr. Lightwood's attention. Hypothesis started to form in Jace's mind, but he didn't have enough information to really have some serious guesses.
'' Why do you want to know so much about him?'' asked the younger one, looking carefully at Mr. Lightwood.
The old man looked like he wondered what to say. For Jace, it was as plain as day in the others' body language: a hand passed through his white locks,furrowed eyebrows and blue eyes steady but unfocused as Mr. Lightwood was lost in his mind. Did he even know why he was so interested in Magnus' life or was he just wondering if he could tell Jace his reasons?
'' Because it is important to me.'' finally let out Mr. Lightwood with a sigh.
'' Okay.'' nodded Jace. He knew it was the truth, but now he also knew Mr. Lightwood was hiding his reasons. Out of timidity maybe? From what he saw of the old man, that would not surprise Jace. '' Let's continue, shall we?''
February 2nd, 1947
-and it reminded me that I would have to be careful for now on.
After my detention that evening, I decided that I would take the city bus to get back home. Alexander wasn't there with me. I hated that his presence ha served as some kind of shield against others' prejudice. I wasn't a damsel in distress.I knew he wasn't seeing me that way, he probably wasn't even aware that just his mere friendliness and presence had prevented bullies to take me as a target. It still made me feel powerless that I needed him around if I wanted to walk the street safely.
Yet now that I knew that most perceived me as a man of colour and that some thought America should have never reopened its border to Asians, I wanted to keep low profile.
Admittedly, it was as cold as a fridge outside too (seriously, would winter never stop here?)
The bus had clear (and discriminatory) rules. I had to sit in the back and speak to no Whites. I hated the bus, but still I considered it safer than walking outside at dusk all by myself. Stuyvesant Town, our neighbourhood, wasn't too far anyway.
Now I keep talking about this bus ride because the strangest of coincidence happened. As my stop was the next one, I was readying myself to leave when the bus stopped and Alexander entered. Sitting in the front row, he hadn't noticed me, but it was definitively him. What would he be doing in the bus at that time of the day on a school day? We live near here, he didn't need the bus. Was he going elsewhere? If yes, where?
For some reasons, I kept thinking: Was he meeting someone special?
All those questions made me miss my stop. So instead of stopping a bit farther and backtrack, I did like any reasonable person would: I stayed to follow Alec.
But as soon as I had taken that decision, I felt guilty. I thought to myself that it was stupid. My friend could go anywhere, he didn't have to tell me where he was going. I didn't want to be reduced as a stalker.
He stopped near Brooklyn bridge and I didn't. I saw his silhouette running down toward the river, as if heading under the bridge. I continued until the bus brought me close enough to my home.
...
So it most be like 10:47 pm right now, but flashes of blue and red woke me up. Looking outside I saw a policeman dragging out of his car a young man with unruly dark hair falling down his face as he bent his head in embarrassment.No. Impossible.
It was Alexander.
What was happening? Alexander was the good never-breaking-any-rules boy that was always on time in our classes and that never dared even imagine hanging around people that would not be a good influence. Still, THAT Alexander was being escorted back home by the police?
Now I was feeling guilty for not following him at Brooklyn Bridge earlier today.
Opening my window, I let the cold breeze bring in my room the words that were exchange between Alexander's parents and the police officer. The words were indistinct, but I think 'graffiti' and 'bridge' and 'sorry' were repeated often.
Closing the window, I sat on my bed for a while, trying to piece it together. A graffiti had been made on Brooklyn bridge by no one else than Alexander, that was the only logical conclusion. But it didn't add up with what I knew of him.
My dearest friend, I was worried for him. What could have made him do this? Why was I so worried? It was just a graffiti, a way to express oneself. I was all for that. If it was Ragnor, I would have rolled my eyes and return back to sleep.
But with Alexander, my feelings were... different.
Silence as Jace finished the page.
So much was going on in his head right now. He knew how it felt to be escorted back somewhere by the police. Like guilt and shame were a heavy weight in his stomach. Especially when it was for a misunderstanding, in those cases, there was also a bit of indignation in the mix. Everyone would just talk about that fault you apparently made and you were guilty no matter what.
' Did Alec feel the same way?' thought Jace as a wave of empathy seized him.
'' I wonder if the graffiti is still there.'' muttered Mr. Lightwood, contemplative.
He probably hadn't meant that as a suggestion, but that was how the golden-eyed young man took it. Maybe there was a way to not only prove that those pages were from a real journal, but that Alec and Magnus existed. That they were real people with real feelings that marked this world.
Out of the pages.
'' We could go see if it is still there.'' said Jace, feeling like yes, he wanted to go look for it.
'' What? Why? No, it's probably not even there anymore.'' protested quickly Mr. Lightwood.
Jace got up, enthusiastically gathering his stuff. Then he looked with his pleading eyes back to the old man. '' Please, let's go see. You said it was important to you to know what happened to Magnus, but Alec is part of Magnus' life. Let's go look for it.''
'' You really want to do this?'' hesitated the old man, not moving.
'' Yes, and if you don't want to, it's fine, I'll go alone.'' said Jace, offering the man an exit route. He really didn't want to be alone, but he couldn't force somebody his presence or his eccentric activities.
Yet he was relieved when he saw the other slowly getting up on his weak knees. He grabbed his cane, a blue scarf and a fedora. It was spring and still a bit fresh outside after all.
'' Who said I wasn't coming? Let's go.'' grumbled Mr. Lightwood, opening the door.
With today's public transportation, moving across the island was easy. Manhattan to Brooklyn Bridge took about half an hour. Walking down from the busy road to the first pillar in the water – the one closest to the shore – was another story. Jace thought it must have been a bit more easier to access in the forties.
Or Alec had been incredibly determined that no one finds it.
Still, after helping Mr. Lightwood down, Jace started to scrutinize the pillar. Lucky for them the tide was low right now, otherwise they would have water to the hip.
Looking brick by brick, Jace was starting to think he would not find it – or not recognize it, he didn't even know what to look for – when he noticed that Mr. Lightwood was immobile. He was looking at something. His shining blues eyes were dark and nostalgic a bit. Getting close to him, Jace noticed words written with a black marker. And then initials with a date.
'' You found it.'' marvelled Jace, reading the words.
Difference is a woman that dances in my mind
She is the only solution I can find
Against her my heart fought
And still under his charm I got caught
- A. L. 1 47
That black marker had faded a bit with time, but it was still there. Quite clear too, only the date was covered by an other drawing. But they didn't needed it. In 1947, sixty nine years and three months ago, a young man with distress at heart came here to free that pain.
Jace admired that. '' He is a poet.'' he said with a smile.
'' One poem doesn't make you a poet.'' sighed Mr. Lightwood, hands in his pockets. He didn't look at ease here.
'' Yet one crime makes you a criminal.'' argued Jace. '' Every time someone makes something good once, they somehow refuse to take credit for it. Even if Alec doesn't end up a writer or a poet in his work, it wouldn't matter because here is the proof that he was a poet. Sometimes.''
'' And what does that poem tell you, young reader.'' indulged Mr. Lightwood, his eyes steady on the graffiti.
'' It tells me that he was in love with another guy, and didn't know how to deal with it.'' stated Jace, sure of himself.
Mr. Lightwood looked a bit more at ease, but still he asked: '' And you don't mind?'' asked the old man, looking at Jace with worried but happy eyes.
Had he been worried that he was an homophobic person?
'' Of course not.'' declared the golden-eyed young man. Then an idea formed in his mind. '' Mr. Lightwood, you know what we could do? Every time a place or something that still exist is mentioned in the remains of Magnus' journal, we should go look for it.''
'' Like a journey to the past?'' asked the blue-eyed old man, eyebrows raised in surprise and his voice a bit shaky.
'' Yeah, I could come by after school and read a bit before going back to my house instead of waiting for weekends. I only have two weeks before moving anyway. What do you say?'' suggested the blond, a hopeful smirk on his lips.
'' We could.'' agreed Mr. Lightwood with a soft smile.
