Page 20 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

I suddenly don’t feel as cold as I did a second ago. Strange.

I take notice of his perfect white teeth and how pretty his smile is.

Yes, pretty, and real.

“Funny that you’re reading that one in particular.” His deep baritone voice breaks through the spell his smile puts me on.

“Why is it funny?” I narrowed my eyes at him still staring at his mouth where the smile was gone but I kept staring in hopes I could see it again. I like the feeling I get from his smile.

“The worst crime that can be committed is that of growing up.” He adjusted his cufflinks with his gloved hand. My eyes fall and follow his movements. “At least that’s the lesson of that particular story.” He bends over, picking up the book from the ground and rising to his full height again.

“Neverland is the land of never growing up and stopping time.”

Neverland.

I picked this book out of the book fair at the academy thinking my sister Mila would enjoy it. She likes fairytales and happy endings. I didn’t realize until I got home that the book was not a happy ending but a tragic tale of a selfish leader who never wanted to grow up and the lost boys whose lives he stole. It’s very dark and tragic that’s why I kept it to myself instead of giving it to Mila. Reading it would have broken her beautiful dreamer’s heart.

My eyes leave Mikhail’s gloved hands and I stare at his face instead when I ask. “Have you read it?”

His face remains bored when he nods his head once. “I have.” When I think he’s not going to give me anything else he does. He gives me a part of his story. “It was my brother’s favorite tale.”

“You have brothers?” I don’t know why I really care enough to ask but I do want him to never stop talking. When this man speaks, all the other voices are quiet.

“I do.” He loves giving short answers and for some reason unbeknownst to me I love to pry when it comes to him.

“How many?”

“Two.”

“Are you the oldest?”

“I’m the middle one.” He doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Just like me,” I mumbled without looking away from his face. He looks calm, collected, and dare I say a little less bored than he looked before.

In this moment looking at his handsome face I think of how this man talks to me like I’m a human and not one of my father’s properties. He talks to me as if he’s genuinely interested in what I have to say. He also answers my questions without belittling me or looking exasperated like most people did before I learned no one really cared what I had to say. “Are your brothers dreamers?” Are you? I want to ask.

“One of them was.” I want to ask him what he means but something tells me not to. It’s the way his eyes no longer look empty but angry and sad. And right there I think of how it hurts my chest to see the sadness in his eyes. What is it about this stranger? Why do I care? Why haven’t I demanded he leave me to my loneliness like I do everyone else?

Silence falls between us once again and I wonder if he got bored of my questions already or if he decided he no longer cares to entertain the conversation. I let out a deep sigh and tried my best not to let the thought of this stranger finding me annoying bother me but then he speaks and what he says makes everything else stop. “Happy birthday, kotyonok.”

Happy birthday.

Happy birthday.

Such simple words and yet they hold so much meaning.

No one besides my sisters and Mom wished me a happy birthday today. I really don’t care for anyone else to do so but now hearing the words from him, causes my belly to feel tight and as if tiny worms are swimming in there.

That’s new.

“Why do you call me that? What does kotyonok mean?” I try to pronounce the Russian word like he does but I fail miserably. Then thunder booms right before rain starts to fall hard around us soaking both of us. Mikhail doesn’t answer me. Instead, he pulls out a small umbrella from his pocket, a red umbrella, and opens it before handing it to me. He’s covering me from the rain instead of himself.

“You’ll get sick.” I point out.

“Go home.” That’s all he says before he steps back and retreats just like he did last time. He turns his back to me making his way towards wherever he came from.

It’s funny how I always meet him when the sun is hiding.

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