She realized that if she was going to find a kinsmen she would need to be the one who started looking first, but the task seemed beyond her abilities. That seemed the only possible way yet still so impossible given her resources and the vast number of people she would be looking at. It felt hopeless. The sea of people passing by her on campus was befuddling. People. Any one of them could be him, she thought. The pain of missing him ached in her heart as she approached the mental plank of what looked impossible and wanted nothing more but to jump and be swallowed by the nothingness altogether, drowned in oblivion.
Her heart began to throb in her chest as she found herself unable to even abandon the hope of finding him. How could she? After all they had shared together she had to find some way to trust him as he had asked her to. She missed him so much.
The nights spent walking through the park talking about their childhoods, the movies and the popcorn that made them laugh and cry every other moment, but above all their grandest memories was the fact that he had confirmed the deepest desire of her heart before he vanished, that he loved her. The look on his face made it all so vividly clear for those half seconds, and then he was gone.
The thought enraged her as it did bring her hope, because he had left her to her own. How could he have done such a thing if he loved her? What would be the reason for leaving her to herself, and why couldn't she have gone with him? Why didn't he take her with him? These were all questions burning in her mind as she walked to class.
Things were so similar to what they had always been for her, and to try and remember his words and to trust them made her feel weak and helpless. How could she find him a sea of so many faces? She felt exhausted and then ashamed because of her failure. She thought about searching for the kinsmen, but feared the disappointment of never finding him. Dashed hopes felt dreadful to experience. What a disaster that would be, she thought.
As she found her seat in front of the short painter, she remembered the "Incorruptibles" and the way she had been seized by their undesirable beauty. However, suddenly her resolve to ask him what they were all about seemed to dissolve into an abyss of fear. She didn't know the short guy very well, and she found herself feeling silly for wanting to pester him with her questions. Not to mention, she would have to reveal to him that she had been stalking him over the web. The idea of bringing up his award winning paintings suddenly felt very inappropriate, but before she had settled the thoughts in her head she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.
"Did you see the announcement by the door?" The short guy asked her, breaking her frantic train of thought.
"Oh, no I didn't, I must have not been paying attention. What did it say?" She had turned around to look at her colleague and as she did she felt her chin touch the top of her shoulder.
"The Prince is visiting our campus next week, so everyone is to prepare some sort of artwork to display in his honor." The boy looked unamused as the news left his lips. He chuckled, and she found it oddly reassuring to hear it. It reminded her of him. The memories came flooding in like a sudden breeze.
He would have laughed just like that, too. The carefree way that he always talked about the campaign was so fascinating to her, especially when contrasted to the impassioned tone he used to speak about the King and hidden liberty. She had always been attracted to his excitement for the King because the energy was dazzling to feel around him, and as his recipient she felt invited into it, into his dazzling world of crazy.
She smiled at the short boy and realized a tragic flaw, "I'm sorry to ask again, but what was your name?" It was high time she stopped referring to him by height, she thought.
"Jay. Jay Burrows" he said.
"I'm--" She was cut off.
"I know who you are." Jay interrupted.
She gave a blushed phony smile and turned herself back towards the front of the room where the professor stood in brown elbow-padded sleeves and khaki pants. Today was about modern art.
She immersed herself into the lecture and let her natural response of articulation kick in. She picked up on the details of what the professor was saying as if gathering and placing each puzzle piece in its place. For her, the final product was being put together, and everything she heard was a valuable part of accomplishing the task of understanding what it all meant. What it would look like with all the pieces in place. Patience came easily when the goal was to see something fully complete.
For the last 5 minutes they were put into groups of 3 to discuss what they had in mind to present for the Prince's showcase. Jay and she, along with a red haired girl with peach freckles, formed a group.
The three art students discussed what they would work on for the gallery. Jay talked about trying something new like a sculpture, and he seemed to be sarcastically implying that he wouldn't actually be making art so much as putting a few random objects together with the time and interest he had for such a project. The freckled girl looked at him with beady judgmental eyes that made the other two share a smile. The room felt pleasant, but when the five minutes were up neither one of the had really decided what they were going to do. Saying bye to both Jay and freckles, she was about to get up when felt his presence as in the times he had been just around the corner at the bookstore they went to on most Saturday afternoons. As if he was about to approach her with a new interesting title, and she would of course love what it would be because he had impeccable literary taste.
Then, unexpectedly she began to feel sadness erupt and looked around to make sure no one could see her. It was hopeless. She just wanted him back. She hated being reminded of him, because it didn't bring him back to her, but to not think of him made everything dull and lifeless. She recalled the last moment again, the eyes that knew her, and she those eyes. With renewed determination she set out to the nearby dumpster. She found Jay already collecting a few discarded paint cans and cardboard boxes.
She gave a little cough to make her approach known.
Jay turned around with a look of surprise and mischief, "Hey! So you caught wind of the sculpture concept eh?" Jay turned back and reached for a wooden crate leaning against the dumpster adding it to the pile between the two of them. "Voila." Jay gestured with mock reverence at the inglorious compilation of trash, which made her laugh. This is crazy, she thought, but she found herself nodding in approval. She helped Jay load the trash into his car, and they made plans to meet the following weekend to prepare something in honor of the Prince.
On her drive home, she decided to skip the cafe and start on an early dinner. Her apartment seemed happy to have her home earlier than usual as it quietly welcomed her. She felt the warmth of home wrap arms around her in silent acceptance. Spaghetti and turkey meatballs seemed to be in order, and she changed into her comfortable house clothes to get started. Then the thoughts came rushing toward her like too many trains all at once. Is Jay a kinsmen? She asked into the air as if her heart's desire stood behind her with a ready answer. She waited, and then reached for the pack of noodles in the cupboard to set them by the pot of water as it set to boil. If Jay is a kinsmen, she began again, then what? It occurred to her that she hadn't thought got that far along the scheme of things. Find you? In the kinsmen?! It was all getting extremely out of hand now. Is this a joke? She thought. Just then her phone alerted her of the weekly whereabouts of the Prince. She had stopped checking them ever since she could remember, after she met the one person who changed everything. But now it seemed appropriate to open the alert thinking that it might inspire her sculpture for his arrival.
"NEW RESTAURANT LAUNCH: EUPHORISTORANTE. PRINCE AND DESIRABLES FIRST TO BE SERVED GIVE IT 5 OUT OF 5 STARS FOR TASTE, SERVICE, AND AESTHETIC APPEAL."
Below the alert were a handful of photos of the handsome Prince and some of his closest friends sitting around an outdoor glass table with plates of food that looked more like special edition displays than something to be forked. Nevertheless, she found her eyes mesmerized by the way each of the Prince's friends were dressed and smiling. They all looked so happy, it made her long for participation, to be a Desirable too. Perhaps then the impossible search for her love would actually be attainable. The water began to boil and she put her phone down to grab the noodles and placed them gently into the pot. As she continued musing about the Desirable campaign, considering to invest into it in hopes of becoming an accepted member, she caught herself in the act of wanting what he had detested most. She never could quite catch what his reproach was about when it came to the Prince, but it had something or everything to do with liberty. He would go on and on about this marvelous notion of liberty by the Unseen King, but for her she found it strange to think that the Desirables did not enjoy this liberty that he so esteemed. Nevertheless, she had heard much about the King from him.
She recalled what she could about how the King used to live with the Prince at the Grand mansion, but rumor had it that the King had died and the Prince was so grieved that he didn't want anyone to see the funeral. He merely said that he had buried the King. The only problem with that was that there was no burial sight or evidence that such a funeral had taken place. Stranger still was how the Prince got rid of all the King's decrees of governing and set in its place the Desirable campaign for a new way of living. This, of course did not sit well with many who loved the King, and so began the mysterious vanishings. However, many like she, had been unaffected by any of the actual changes to life, and since she never really knew the King personally, she thought it uninteresting until he came along and changed her.
The noodles were ready to be strained and she dumped them out over the sink as the steam rose above her face. It was all a fog.
If only I had never met him, she thought, then this would all be easier. It was no use, she had met him and nothing would ever be the same. She would continue searching for him, even if it meant she would have to figure out how to find him in the kinsmen. But for now, spaghetti was ready and she was thankful for the warm meal to replenish her.
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