THIRTY-SIX
Jindra Roh wandered through the park, her thoughts lost somewhere inside. The day was bright and warm, one of those beautiful summer days that made a day at the park almost mandatory. She felt a little guilty about being out so soon after Coren's death, but she just couldn't sit at home any longer. Jindra knew it was selfish, but she just longed to see someone other than her parents, Bethanne or the Kaberles. Yellan and Arturo had returned to Palas a couple of weeks after Coren's funeral; but Bethanne had decided to stay for an extended visit. As much as she loved her aunt and valued her company and friendship, Jindra had started to feel smothered by Bethanne's attentions. She knew that her aunt meant well, but sometimes she just wanted to be alone -- something that Bethanne just couldn't seem to understand. Jindra had begged off an invitation to have lunch with Petra Kaberle and her daughters, Martina and Gillian. The three girls had known each other almost since birth and had once been quite close; but as they had grown up, their interests had changed and Jindra no longer had much in common with the two sisters. Since Coren's funeral service however, they had once again renewed their friendship and Jindra had been grateful for Gillian and Martina's support while she still tried to come to grips with her brother's death and Folken's apparent desertion.
She also didn't want to be home in case Anton Lefebvre stopped by. Since Coren's funeral, Anton had called on her several times a week; and although she had been grateful for his support and friendship, she still had not changed her feelings regarding him. Jindra had also started to feel a bit nervous around Anton lately -- he had changed a lot in the past couple of months, and they were not changes to the better. The once immaculate and well-mannered Anton Lefebvre had become a disheveled, depressing shell of a man. He often looked like he had just rolled out of bed with wrinkled clothes and knotted hair. His face had taken on a pinched look and his eyes were constantly red-rimmed and bloodshot, as if he had not been sleeping regularly. More than once, Jindra had strongly smelled wine not only on his breath, but on his clothing as well. Anton had become almost unrecognizable from the proper, handsome Lieutenant that she had met at her brother's going away dinner. Jindra was saddened by the change in him, and she hoped that the real Anton Lefebvre would find his way back from where ever he had gone.
Jindra adjusted the heavily-leaden black satchel that hung off her shoulder as she walked. She had paid a visit to Mrs. Marchment's bookshop earlier and despite her every intention of purchasing only one or two books; she had walked out the door with five. Jindra had found herself reading more and more in the last few weeks. Reading helped keep her mind occupied so that she couldn't think about Coren or Folken; it also helped her at night when she couldn't sleep, something that had become almost commonplace since her brother's funeral.
The kindly shopkeeper had asked her to stay for tea and Jindra found that an hour had passed as the two women chatted almost non-stop. Jindra felt a pang in her heart as she remembered Mrs. Marchment asking after Folken; she had wondered where he was as she had not seen him in the shop for quite sometime. Jindra had lied and told her that he had been very busy with his studies and that she would try to bring him with her the next time she visited. Jindra had quickly finished her tea and made a hasty farewell on the pretense that she was meeting her parents for lunch. She hated lying to the woman, but she couldn't bring herself to admit that she had not seen Folken for almost two months. Two months since he walked out the door and left me.
Spotting the empty bench, Jindra sat down and dropped her leather bag down next to her. It had been two months since the confrontation between Folken and her father. Two months since Folken had kissed her one last time and told her that he loved her. Two months without seeing him or hearing from him. Two months of agonizing loneliness. Jindra felt the tears burning in her eyes and she hastily tried to blink them away. Why Folken? Why did you lie to me? You knew you weren't coming back -- you knew it was over. Why did you have to lie to me? Did you ever really love me at all? Jindra reached for her bag and searched for a handkerchief. As her hand felt around inside the satchel, her fingers touched a cool, smooth oval shape. Pulling the object out, she saw that it was the lump of crystal that Folken had given her -- the one that he had made. She had forgotten that it was in her bag; she had carried it with her since he had given it to her. Taking the crystal in her hands, she watched the rainbows that shifted though it's interior from the sunlight. Jindra felt a tear slip down her cheek and angrily she gripped the crystal in her hand. She was tempted to throw it -- but she knew that she couldn't. With a weary sigh, she dropped the crystal back into her bag and brushed her fingers across her eyes. Leaning back on the bench, she closed her eyes and lifted her face up towards the sun.
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Folken walked aimlessly; barely aware of the people that brushed past him. He was so glad to be out of the tower, if only for a few hours. He had been working almost non-stop on the reconstruction of the wreckage of the guymelef prototypes. The heavy damage sustained by the mecha had caused countless delays and it was only late last night that the job had been completed. Folken had been running on only a few hours sleep, scrounged here and there; and was on the verge of total exhaustion when Juri had ordered the group to quit for the night. He had specifically ordered them to take the day off and reconvene after breakfast of the next day. Folken had stumbled to his quarters and fallen into bed without even removing his clothes or boots. He had slept until awakened by the call to lunch in the common dinning room. Feeling slightly more alert and rested, he had showered, changed and had a hasty lunch before departing the tower.
He had no exact destination in mind when he started from the gate, so he just let himself wander. The weather was exceptionally nice and the sidewalks seemed to be busier than usual. He soon found himself at the entrance to the city park and on a whim walked through the wrought iron gate and started down the path. He hadn't been to the park in quite sometime -- the last time had been with Jindra several months ago. Jin. Just thinking about her made his chest ache. Two months -- two months since he had last seen her, spoken to her -- touched her.
After his encounter with Bethanne Barrant at the cemetery, Folken had returned to the tower and relentlessly thrown himself into his work. He reasoned that if he were consumed with work, he wouldn't be able to think about Jindra; if he were too exhausted, he wouldn't be able to dream about her. But Jindra was always in his thoughts -- and in his dreams. But he also wanted to keep his promise to Coren -- to find out what had happened to cause his death. Juri had been surprised to see him when he returned to the storage hangar and started back to work.
Folken's ears still burned with Bethanne's last words to him; and as much as they had angered him, he knew that she had only spoken the truth. It had taken some time to admit it to himself, but he realized that she had been right. He was a coward -- he was afraid to make that final commitment to Jindra -- to leave Zaibach and go back out into the world with her. He knew that if the two of them married, they would be forced to leave the city -- there was no way that the tower would allow it. But as much as he loved Jindra and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he was so afraid that someone would recognize him for whom he really was; or worse, that his mother and brother would find out that he was alive. He had failed them -- failed Fanelia -- and he couldn't go back and face their disappointment and hurt. But he loved Jindra; she was so much a part of him now that it pained him to be without her for any length of time. Indeed the past two months had been almost unbearable -- he could only imagine what she must be feeling; and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for being too much of a coward to tell her of his feelings -- or of his fears. Despite all that happened between the two them, there was still something that held him back -- something that wouldn't allow him to confess all of this to her. He was so afraid that she wouldn't understand or that she would think him less of man because of them. So he had kept himself away from Jindra -- built a wall of work and silence around himself -- but he still couldn't keep thoughts her out of his mind or his heart.
Folken tightly clenched his fists and took a deep breath. I've got to stop it -- I can't go on like this. It's not fair to her . . . for her to believe that I don't care anymore. But I'm just so afraid . . . why does everything in my life have to be so hard? Folken tried to will himself to relax as he took another deep breath. He had been so lost in his thoughts, that he hadn't realized he had branched off the main path until he found himself in the small clearing where he used to practice fencing with Coren and Jindra. Glancing up, he was startled to see Jindra apparently dozing on the park bench just a few feet away.
Folken's first thought was to turn around and quickly leave. He knew he couldn't face her; he didn't want to see the hurt and scorn in her eyes when she found him there. But instead of leaving, he just stood there and looked at her. He saw that she had cut her hair -- she had let it grow long because she knew that he liked it; but now it was in the same short, face-framing style as when the two had first met. The sunlight brought out the golden highlights in her auburn hair so that it sparked like a fire. She was dressed in one of her usual trouser/overdress outfits; this one was dark gray with black trim at the neck, cuffs and hemline. Next to her on the bench was her old black bag; and from the tale-tell bulging of the leather, he guessed that it was crammed with books. As he looked at her, his mind flashed back to that stormy night in the hunting lodge -- how peaceful and serene Jindra had looked as she had slept curled up in his arms after the two had made love. He remembered how contented and comfortable he had felt as he held her -- like it had been meant to be all along. Looking at her as she dozed on the park bench, Folken felt his heart clench -- she looks so beautiful -- and all his earlier doubts and fears seemed to slip away. Frozen to the spot, Folken barely heard the loud joyful shriek of a child nearby. He watched as Jindra started and opened her eyes at the sound.