CHAPTER 2

With every step Haley took, she wondered deeply how in the world a man falls out of a tree. So many possibilities of what might be the reason. Slowly, Haley moved across the grass to the other side of the tree so she could get a better look. Small, dainty steps towards the intruder, trying to be as cautious as possible.

"What an odd thing to happen," she said aloud. She pressed her hands against its bark, tilting her head to inspect further. The person was just a few feet away. He groaned slightly before sitting up. "What an odd thing indeed." It was more to reassure herself than anything else.

The intruder was a young man, not much older than she was. Long black hair curled over his ears, hanging just a little off of the back of his neck. Messy bangs covered his shiny forehead, shoved to one side. Oddly enough, he wore a suit, complete with shiny black shoes and a narrow tie to match. He rubbed the back of his head, looking up at the only tree in the garden with curiosity. He took a deep breath before awkwardly standing up and stretching.

"What were you doing?" she spontaneously said just above a whisper.

He turned to her. "Wot?"

She stayed behind the tree. "What were you doing before you fell?"

"Oi was troin ta foind a wey insoid this place."

"Why?"

"Ta see wot was insoid, of corse."

"Why?" She was beginning to wonder if engaging in conversation with the fellow was the best idea. He was such a strange young man.

"Wot ah yew insinuating?"

"Nothing, I was insinuating nothing. Just… you are on private property and you wanted to get into a gated garden. Maybe you wanted to steal something."

Offended, the young man grabbed at his suit jacket and straightened it in contempt. He walked behind the tree to where Haley stood. "Oi say, gud woman, wot koind of mahn do yew think oi em?"

"What kind of man do I think you are?"

"Yes."

"Wow… Well, I don't know. You seem kind of ill."

"Ill?"

"Or at least mad."

He was taken aback by her comment. Flashing a great smile, he did a small jig and said, "I am not mad. As you can see I have quite the happy disposition."

"Not mad, Stupid," she sighed. "Mad. As in insane."

"I'm not insane either. How did you ever come to that conclusion?"

Haley shrugged. "I don't know. I'm alone. Out of screaming distance. You come crashing in-"

"You sure like to run to conclusions, don't you?" He flicked a playful wink.

"Hey," she said. "What happened to your English accent?" In all of the commotion of figuring out his motives, Haley didn't even notice that he was speaking differently.

"I never had an English accent."

"Yes you did."

"Of course I didn't," he grinned. "I speak English. How can I have an accent in a language I'm fluent in?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "You are surely mad."

Haley was so intrigued with him. He was strange and so much different than anybody she had ever met before. An awkward silence was beginning to develop. Quickly she began to think of something to say. She wanted to continue the conversation but didn't know how to begin when suddenly she realized that he didn't have a name. "What is your name, Sir?"

"Well, it's definitely not Winston."

"I never said that it was."

"You shouldn't assume other peoples' names. It's very rude."

"What? I never… you never told me your name."

"Neither did you."

"Why are you being to so difficult?" She only wanted to know his name. "You are impossible."

"Don't be absurd, of course I'm possible. I'm standing right here, aren't I?"

"Yes you are but-"

"So how can I be impossible if I'm most possibly right before you?"

"Will you let me finish?"

He grinned. "Finish what?"

"My sentence."

"Your sentence? Highly presumptuous of you."

"Fine. My name is Haley."

"Nice to meet you, Haley."

She smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. "Do you have a name?"

"Good question."

Another silence filled in the void. She looked at him, trying to figure out why he was being awkwardly fainéant. "Are you going to answer it?"

He held up a finger. "Hold on. I'm thinking."

Once again, the conversation was stumped. "You either know your name or you don't. What more do you need to think about?"

"Well that's an entirely different question."

"Which one?"

"You asked me if I had a name, and to be quite honest with you, I don't know if I have a name, but you also asked me what I needed to think about, which is a different question altogether."

"Answer the first question then."

"No," he replied. "I don't have a name. Shall I entertain the second?"

She sighed, "If you want."

"Alright! Here we go!" The young man happily jumped in the air. He took two sticks off of the ground and began to beat the trunk of the tree, creating small rhythmic patterns that resembled a snare drum.

"What are you doing?"

"Entertaining the question."

"You're playing the tree like a drum."

"Oh," he stopped, looking genuinely concerned about what he had done. He scratched the back of his head and looked at her. "Do you think the question enjoys piano?"

Haley was beginning to get impatient with him. It was a totally absurd question to ask. Stamping her foot on the ground, she shook her head and heaved a sigh through her nostrils. "No, I don't think the question enjoys piano!"

"Well," he said shrugging his shoulders, "then I shall never tell you my name."

"You just told me that you don't have one!"

"Indeed I did, Haley. I don't have a name. But I know what my name is."

"That doesn't make any sense."

Smoothly he put his arm over her shoulder as if they had good friends for a long time. "Your name is Haley, is it not?"

Removing his arm, she took a few steps away. "It is."

"Do you own that name?"

"Yes I do."

"How do you know another Haley somewhere else doesn't own the same name?"

"Well… I guess I don't-"

"So then, if you own your name, and she does as well, do you and the other Haley have joint custody over it?"

It was an interesting question. More like a riddle. And Haley wanted to answer it correctly. Crossing her arms, she began to think. "I suppose we would… if we owned the name to begin with-"

"Precisely!"

"So then you're saying that I can't own my name since there is most likely another person with the same name."

"Yes."

She smiled, happy that she got the answer right. "But you still haven't told me what your name is."

"I do apologize, Dear Haley." He stood up straight. "You can call me Sir Quistin Jibbles." He bowed slightly towards her, his hand extended.

Politely she took it and curtsied. Finally, they had gotten somewhere. He finally told her his name. She thought about it for a second. It was an odd name. "What an odd name," she stated.

"Isn't it though?" A silly smile enveloped his face.

"I've never heard of that name before. How do you know that you don't own it?"

"Because it's not mine."

Back to square one. "Then whose name is it?"

"Sir Quistin's name."

"Is he a friend of yours?"

"Oh heavens no! He's a whorrible person."

"So you stole his name?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I borrowed it."

"If 'Sir Quistin Jibbles' isn't your real name, what is?"

"That's for me to find out and you to know."

"Don't you mean 'for me to know and you to find out?'"

"I meant what I said."

"But it doesn't make any sense."

"Oh but it does."

"How?"

"That's for you to know and me to find out."

"You did it again!"

"Did what?"

"You switched around the words to make a new meaning out of them."

"Did I? How strange."

"How strange indeed! Now you know how I feel."

Quistin twirled around the trunk until he came on the other side of her. "Actually I don't. You apparently are irritated with my apparent switching. I, on the other hand, am not."

"I'm irritated because you used the wrong figure of speech to say something totally nonsensical!"

"Then you have nothing to be irritated about."

"And why not?"

"They're just words," he stated casually. "You said yourself that it was a figure of speech. It doesn't have to mean anything more than what meaning I give to it."

"But-"

"But nothing, Haley!" He playfully stood staunchly with his arms crossed.

"You can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because," Haley started. As she looked at the ground it became apparent that she couldn't think of a reasonable answer to his question. She knew why he couldn't do what he did but she couldn't put it into words. "Because… because… saying it one way makes it different than saying it another way-"

"As we have already established."

"It's like saying 'I am a girl and you are a boy' is the same as that I am a boy and you are a girl. It just doesn't work. You are a boy and I am a girl."

"But it could work if you wanted it to."

"No it couldn't!"

"Listen… Haley, is it?"

"Yes."

"Haley, allow me to share with you a piece of information that not a lot of people know about. Are you ready?"

"Even if I wasn't, I bet you'd still tell me."

He leaned in close and whispered into her ear. "Words are symbolic."

She shook her head. "That means nothing to me."

"Exactly," he grinned again.

"Exactly what?"

"Exactly my point."

"And that would be?"

Quistin lifted his hands high above his head to illustrate the grandeur of his words. "That everything we say, every kind of word and speech, has a meaning because we give it meaning."

"I still don't understand."

"Are you gay?"

"Of course not."

"Well, you don't understand what I'm saying. You certainly seem stupid."

"That's not what 'gay' means."

"Do you like rainy weather?"

Haley shook her head. "Not really. It's kind of gay."

"There's nothing homosexual about it."

"But that's not what I meant-"

"Have you ever 'decked the halls with gay apparel'?"

"That's not even how the song goes-"

"Well it looks like you're not a very happy person, Haley."

"You're changing the meaning of the word!"

"Am I?"

"Yes! Yes you are!"

"So passionate, yet so ignorant."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"Did you call me ignorant?"

"I did. But don't take it as an insult. It was very much a compliment."

It was strange how he could make her laugh, or make her think, or make her angry with just a few words. She was beginning to tire of it. "I'll take it the way I want to take it."

"Excellent."

She crossed her arms again. "You still changed the meaning of the word."

"I did nothing of the sort. If you had been observant, you'd have noticed the differences."

"There weren't any differences."

"Then there's nothing for you to be upset about."

"Fine," Haley said. "Whatever."

The breeze casually swooped into the gated garden once again. The tree swayed gently in its current and the sun was comforting to the skin. Haley sat back down, bringing her legs close to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her calves and leaned her head on her knees. She took a deep breath. Quistin was taking a lot of energy out of her.

He hummed a small tune. She did not recognize it but it was nice. It was a while before she realized that she was trying to hum along with him. He sat down on the grass next to her, smiling at the blue sky above. "Do you realize that we've been here for almost an hour?"

She looked up. "Has it been that long? Time sure does fly."

"Actually, I think he drives."

Haley smiled.

Another brief silence came between the two. In the time they were no longer speaking, she thought of all the odd things they had talked about. It was strange to have such an arbitrary conversation about nothing to someone she just barely met. Haley wasn't the type of person to talk to strangers, nice or otherwise, but there was something special about Quistin. He looked free. He seemed careless, but in a good way.

Her mother had told her to memorize the names of the flowers, but she didn't say how long she had to be there. Without really thinking of whom she was talking to, she asked, "Do you think we'll be here much longer?"

Quistin nodded his head in a very matter-of-fact kind of way. "Probably."

She sighed. "Well, I don't want to stay here forever."

He just sat on the grass and smiled.

"I'd surely miss supper if I stay in here any longer."

"I miss supper too." He perked up.

She gave him a crooked look. There was no way of telling if he was kidding or telling the truth. The thought of food shifted her thoughts from his discursiveness to food. Haley rubbed her stomach. "I believe I'm having mashed potatoes with gravy and turkey. Oh it sounds so good."

"It tastes so good!"

She looked down at the plate he had in his hands. How did he get that? When did he get it? It was the same supper plate that her mother used every night. Full of mashed potatoes with gravy and two slices of turkey breast. "Hey! Where'd you get that?"

"It was here the whole time."

"Why didn't I smell it?"

"Because," he said through mouthfuls of turkey and potatoes, "you were too busy listening for it. You can't hear food, Silly Girl."

"I am not silly."

"But you are a girl."

"Is there any left for me?" She needed to change the subject.

"Nope."

"You ate it all?"

"I did indeed, Haley. I did indeed."

"How rude!" she pouted her lip.

"Hay-lee!" someone called in a singsong fashion from behind the wall.

"Yes, Martha?"

"Your mother told me to come get you. It's almost time for supper."

"Okay, Martha," she replied, "I'll just be a minute."

"Don't make your parents wait too long."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Quistin smirked. "You better get in there, Kid. Sounds like your parents wouldn't be too pleased if you were late."

Haley got up, just a little offended by what he called her. He was probably just as old as she was. Calling her a kid was so demeaning. Smoothing out her skirt and habitually wiping the dirt from her hands, Haley extended her hand. "It was nice meeting you, Quistin."

He stood up as well. She looked up into his eyes. He was a good three or four inches taller than she was. Their hands connected. "It was nice meeting you too, Haley."

"Haley!" another voice called from beyond the wall.

She turned around.

"Martha called you in for supper two minutes ago!"

"I'm coming, Mother."

"Ladies are always punctual to-" she stopped short of her sentence. The pleasantly attractive older woman entered into the garden, surprised to see her daughter with an unknown boy. Her dress suit fit nicely around her curves. She straightened her posture in front of company and politely nodded her head, acknowledging that he was there.

Quistin smiled in response.

"Who is this, Haley?" she inquired curiously.

Haley nervously looked at her mother's stern eyes. She couldn't speak freely when she was being stared at.

He stepped forward. "How rude of me, Madam, I should have introduced myself." He bowed slightly. "Just call me Justin."

Justin. Haley noticed that he used a different name than the one he gave her. She gave him an inquisitive look to which he winked. Quistin was such an unusual name; maybe he was making it up. There was no reason to tell her the truth, but why would anybody lie about a name? She told him hers. He must have had a good reason for lying.

Her mother nodded her head again, making sure to keep her chin just a little bit higher than his. "I didn't know Haley was having a guest over."

"I just… dropped by." He smiled. Bright white teeth glistened in the fading sunlight.

Haley snapped back into reality. "He was just leaving, Mother."

"Why?" She asked in a surprisingly condescending tone. "He should stay for supper."

"You're too kind, but I've already eaten."

"I insist, Justin. Stay for supper."

Quistin straightened his jacket. He winked at Haley again. "Well, if you insist."

The two of them left, closing the golden gate behind them. The orange orb in the sky slowly descended past the cumulus clouds, creating a sea of colorful mixtures of nature's pallet. Indigo ribbons lay between yellow hues and dark shades of violet. The clouds reflected a pinkish glow as black night and sparkling stars replaced the rest.

Haley found herself thinking about the predicament she had suddenly been thrown into. A strange and irritating young man had abruptly entered into her life and was going to be there for dinner. What would a lady like herself do? Exhaling deeply, she picked up her school bag and walked out of the garden. Supper was waiting. And so was Quistin.

A little drop of hot water dangled on the rim of the faucet before dropping into the white basin. Steam rose up below Haley's nostril. The soft cotton of the hand towel dried her skin. She took a deep breath. Her eyes outlined her face before pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Getting ready for supper at her house was mandatory, but when guests arrived it was like she was attending supper at Governor's House.

A flowing white dress formed fittingly around her body. Pearly white orbs hung loosely from her neck. She looked in the mirror, scrunching her nose in distaste. She never liked her body too much. Even less when she had to put on makeup. And she always had to wear makeup.

"I'm sorry we could not begin the evening with the main course, Justin, but Martha seems to have misplaced the fourth supper dish."

Haley glanced at Quistin.

He only shook his head politely. "That's quite alright. Soup will be fine for now." Quistin dipped his spoon into the bisque, slowly bringing it to his lips to sip it in. His eyes shifted from the mother, to the father, then to Haley.

She looked uncomfortable.

She looked down at the bowl. Her reflection rippled slightly when the spoon broke the plain. Dressed up suppers were stupid. She shouldn't have to have to dress up for supper. She didn't want to impress Quistin. She didn't want to dress up in her stupid white dress to impress Quistin. Nobody else in the world had to dress up in stupid white dresses to impress Quistin.

"So," her mother said with a plastered smile, "where are you from, Justin?"

Quistin sipped another ounce of soup. Daintily dabbing his mouth, he gave her another white grin. "Well, I am originally from Liverpool."

"Liverpool? I'm surprised. You don't have an accent."

"Indeed I don't, Madam. I've learned how to mask it."

She tilted her head in respect. "That is quite a task, Sir."

"Thank you."

There was something different about him. Haley noticed that he sat up straight, sipped his soup and spoke correctly. It seemed like he knew how to be a proper person in high society. But the image contradicted her first impression of him. Before he was outrageous. Talking nonsense and absurdities. A carefree individual. The person sitting in front of her was not carefree. He acted like any other boy at her school would if they were attending supper at her house.

"How old are you?" Her mother asked.

"I'll be nineteen in two days."

"Oh."

Haley rolled her eyes and dabbed the lukewarm liquid.

Her father looked at her with stern eyes.

"What?" she mouthed.

Her mother glanced her way before turning back to Quistin. "I have to say that you don't look familiar. Would I know your parents?"

"Probably."

"Where do you live? I'd loved to have them over for supper."

"I think they'd love that too."

Haley's palm caught her falling head. Her eyes drooped lower and lower with every breath. She yawned.

"Well, the question that I have to ask is what brought you here to my house, Justin?" Her mother asked.

He smiled as innocently as he could. "Haley and I are good friends from school."

"Really? She's never mentioned you."

Haley chuckled.

"Haley!"

She perked up.

"Haley, you are being very rude."

Quistin pierced his lips and sat back into the chair.

"Sit up straight."

She sat up straight.

"Stop playing with your soup."

She placed her spoon on the napkin.

Her mother puffed up, letting loose a gruff breath to let Haley know that she was aggravated.

Quistin stifled a laugh.

Haley's father shook his head in disapproval.

She put her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, Mother."

Her mother composed herself. "I think it's time for the main course."

"Oh, I'm going to have to decline," Quistin interjected. "My parents are probably waiting for me at home and I sure do hate to keep them waiting."

"You never told me who your parents were."

"Governor Smith is my father."

That got her attention. "Really?"

"Thank you for having me over for soup."

"You are very welcome, Justin."

"Yes," her father said. "You're welcome."

Haley nodded her head politely.

Quistin pushed his chair back and stood up. He stood still, a well-mannered look on his face, purposely creating an awkward tension in the dining room that made Haley's parents feel very uncomfortable.

"Haley?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Walk Justin out."

"Yes, Mother."

Haley got to her feet and walked to him. He brought his hand up so that she could slip hers underneath it. A proper thing to do in that situation. He smiled at her. She rolled her eyes. He smiled so much it had quickly lost its charm. They walked down the long hallway towards the entrance doors. Their tapping feet echoed off of the walls.

"Why did you lie to me?" It broke the silence.

"Because I can." It was almost an immediate response.

"So you're name isn't Quistin Jibbles."

"I never said that."

"You told my mother that your name was Justin."

"No I didn't," he said back. "I only said that she could call me Justin."

"Well that's the same thing."

He shook his head. "What did we talk about this afternoon, Haley?"

She shifted through the memory of their time together in the garden. "Nothing. We talked about nonsense… about time and words."

Quistin nodded his head. "Yes, and what did I say about words?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Something about words being symbolic."

"Exactly. Words are just as arbitrary as names. Names are irrelevant if I don't know the person. I didn't know you so I lied. I didn't know your mom so I lied."

"What about at supper? Are you really turning nineteen?"

"Eventually."

"So how old are you?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

She smiled at the inside joke. Her finger gently moved a fallen lock of hair behind her ear and looked at the ground.

"What about your parents? Are you really the Governor's son?"

He grinned. "Nope."

"Lying is wrong."

"Says who?"

"Everybody."

"Do you always believe what everybody says?"

There wasn't an answer other than the obvious, but something told her that he wasn't interested in the obvious answer. In the break of conversation she realized that they had already arrived at the entrance. Haley exhaled. She didn't want to talk to him any longer. She opened the door. "It's time for you to leave."

"Ok." He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you for a wonderful evening."

She blinked. She didn't know whether he had really just kissed her or she had imagined it. What did it mean if he did? What did it mean if he didn't? It happened so quickly that she didn't realize that she was holding her breath. A secret kiss. She needed to know what really happened. Peering outside, Haley searched for his black suit.

But like a gust of wind, he was gone.