Chapter 16


    Teddy stood at the bottom of the hill with a long, ck umbre in hand. A few droplets of rain crashed


    down upon the hillynd, but not enough to make me feel agitated. The bus pulled up right beside


    Teddy’s dark figure, and the usual bus driver that normally took me to work simply tilted his hat in


    respect to the gentleman waiting outside for me. The driver did not exhibit the same fears as the one


    yesterday, so perhaps it was only a bad incursion. I offered a small goodbye to the bus operator,


    pleased that he opened the doors wide enough for me to step outside and join Teddy’s side. I could feel


    the heated stare of this dark cloaked figure as I walked past the front of the bus, although Teddy


    remained motionless as I steadily approached him.


    He was draped in all ck for the morning, with a smoky grey t cap covering his head. He removed it


    once I stood in front of him, and angled the umbre in a certain way to block out the rain for me.


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    “What are you doing here?” His eyebrows shot up with surprise. “Is anything the matter?”


    “I came here to apologize.”


    “Yes, but you came out of your house,” I professed. “You didn’t have toe all the way down the hill


    to tell me that.”


    “I was rude yesterday,” Teddy apologized. “And cold towards you.” His hat was ced back upon his


    head. “It is perfectly natural to be a little curious, and besides, you didn’t see anything too damaging.”


    He stepped a little closer, allowing the umbre to cover us both from the light dripping of rain. “I


    overreacted,” he confessed. “I’m naturally a private man, and things only became worse when the town


    began to gossip about me. But you are different, S. You don’t listen to that.”


    “No, I know nothing,” I conceded.


    A twinge of a smile spread across his face, though it was small and fragile-like. “You’re like a breath of


    fresh air." An arm was presented upwards, a subtle offer for me to slip my arm over his own. “I think it’s


    time for something hot to drink. The rain will let up soon enough, and then you can return to work.”


    His mood had suddenly lifted, there was even a lightness to his rich chocte brown eyes. He escorted


    me away from the side of the road, bent upon taking the smoothest route possible that would lead him


    back home. The umbre was shared between us, allowing him to be as close beside me as possible.


    We walked inpanionable silence up the hill, where only the faintpses of the calming sea could


    be vaguely heard under the light showering of rain.


    ***


    A steady downpour of water droplets fell from a steel-grey sky; it pelted against the window where


    Teddy silently stood. His back was to me; arge white mug clutched firmly in his hand as he watched


    the sudden change of the temperamental weather. I was seated in my normal chair, stroking the small


    cat that was lost in slumber upon myp. The faint ticking of the clock could be heard down the


    hallway, and the rushing wind that inevitably came from the sea.


    Teddy was lost in his own thoughts, deep and dark enough for him to wear a brooding expression. I


    contemted the warning of my employer, Daphne, and the words she gave me over my phone.


    Something inside of me wanted to dismiss it, to tear down every wall that silently stood in between us.


    Luna was ced upon the kitchen table and I found my feet naturally gravitating towards this sober


    looking man. My hand perched itself upon his left shoulder, turning him around so that I could have a


    better look at him. “What is troubling you?” I gently whispered. His face softened before me, but it still


    revealed a haunting look in the darkest regions of his eyes.


    “Thoughts,” he offered out. “Memories.”


    My hand was lowered, which made his demeanour change suddenly. He looked down at the hand that


    once touched him, and I could see in his eyes that he wished it would return to his shoulder.


    “You worry for me,” he ventured. “You should worry.” He took a small step backwards, and then turned


    himself away from me. “I am not my normal self today, S. I think it’s best to return to your normal


    duties.”


    “It is raining,” I reminded him, which made him look to the left to see the rain soaking the long ss


    window. “You were fine only a moment ago.”


    “I must get out of this house,” he said with gritted teeth, before he darted his head to the open doorway


    that would lead to the hall. “Do you mind the rain, S?”


    “You want to go out in it?”


    “I thought a walk would do me well.”


    I looked to the window as well with a feeling of uneasiness. “We could catch a chill,” I reminded him.


    “There must be something else you could do.”


    “I will go to my room,” he dered, and then immediately left the kitchen. To my surprise he did not go


    up the staircase, but turned right to head down the long hallway. I followed after him, too curious for my


    own good. Teddy entered the art room and purposefully left the door wide open for me to follow him.


    “You are wee toe inside,” he said over his shoulder, once he heard a creak of the floorboard


    over the threshold of the open doorway. “I have nothing to hide. Not anymore, at least.” He pointed


    behind him, directing his fingers towards a small wooden stool. “Have a seat.”


    “Teddy, won’t you tell me what is wrong?”


    He never answered me, but I could see the slight trembling of his hands as he walked around the


    room. There was something wrong, almost too overbearing for him. He used his shaky fingers to brush


    back his hair, revealing his entire face and the long frown that he could not hold back any longer. “It’s


    unbearably hot in here,” heined, and moved swiftly to the window to force it open. The cold rain


    pattering against the stony grey wall was loud, you could hear the echo of the wailing wind as it


    battered against the wall with forcefulness. I expected it to rain a little bit this morning, but I was never


    prepared for this type of stormy weather.


    The gust of wind blew fiercely into the room, scattering some papers that wereid upon his desk.


    Teddy frantically tried to pick up some papers, and motioned his hands for me to stay away when I tried


    to assist him. I tantly ignored him, and picked up some sheets of papers that were closest to me.


    There were some sketches of the house, and self-portraits of him in different rooms. I peered at one in


    particr; an illustration of him in this very room. There was a haughty expression about him, a defiant


    glimmer in his eyes, but the thing that troubled me the most was the deliberate grey shading positioned


    next to him as he sat beside the drawing table. It was indistinguishable, the shading, but there was


    something about it that still disturbed me.


    “I do self-portraits,” he dered in a booming voice. “Either that or I draw poor Luna.”


    “I thought you don’t do portraits.”


    “So did I,” he darkly chuckled. “But… it clears my mind.” He retrieved the small piece of paper from my


    hand, and protectively ced it against his chest. “I don’t do it for money though.”


    “You could,” I suggested. “You captured the likeness quite well.”


    “You think so?” He lowered the paper and held it in front of him. “I enjoy drawing people; capturing their


    expressions. I always thought that mine was rather depressing though.” He stepped away from me


    while still carrying the self-portrait. “Strangely enough, yours is quite different.” Teddy stopped in front of


    his pine desk and pulled open a differentpartment than before. “I drew it yesterday evening.” A fine


    quality paper was lifted into the air, and then he slowly strode towards me. The paper was handed to


    me, and I could see an exact likeness of myself in the image. I was situated in the garden, surrounded


    by flowers that were in full bloom with the outline of a cloudy blue sky in the background. He had


    captured my likeness so well, it shocked mepletely. Slowly I lowered the paper and darted my


    gaze upwards to see that he had been watching me. He took a small step forward, allowing the


    darkness in his eyes to increase dramatically. “What do you think?”


    “It’s…” My voice fell so low that I could go no further.


    “You don’t like it?”


    “All of this from memory?” I inquired. He nodded his head slowly, though his expressions disyed his


    anxiety as though it was choking him to death. “How?”


    “How?”


    “It is like I was standing there in front of you,” I mused aloud. “It’s beautiful!” The paper was pressed


    upon my chest. “Could I keep it? I hope I don’t sound vain, Teddy, but I have never seen anything like it


    before.” My feet moved to the right, and ever so slowly I moved towards the open window. “It is like you


    captured my very existence,” I pondered quietly to myself. “In a single image.”


    “I will go over it with ck ink, and then frame it for you.”


    I turned around sharply, and eximed: “You would do that?” He responded with a small nod of his


    head in affirmation. “You’ve done so much for me,” I eximed. “And I feel as though I have done


    nothing for you.”


    His rosy pink lips puckered outwards, and soon enough his grey slippers elegantly stepped over the


    light almond coloured floor to get to me.


    “Teddy.” He stopped his movements abruptly. “What could I do for you?”


    “Let me see you tomorrow,” he urged. “I will pick you up.” He took another bold step forward to enclose


    thest of the space between us. “I want to show you the rest of mynds. You would like the


    shoreline, I think.” He took a long pause to let him intece his fingers together and ce it over the


    front of hisp. “That is all I ask from you.”


    “Then yes, I’ll do it.”


    His facial expressions was inscrutable, but I knew he was secretly happy to hear the news.


    “Are you feeling better now?” I asked of him. Teddy nodded his head sternly, never letting his gaze


    waver away from mine. “I don’t like to see you that upset. I am d you are feeling better. If you still


    want, we can take a walk outside.”


    “In the rain?” heughed in mirth.


    “If it will clear your mind, I see no reason not to.”


    “You care for me,” he voiced aloud with a half-startled expression. “Don’t you?”


    “I’m your friend,” I cunningly reminded him in the hopes of avoiding his question.


    “Yes, you are.”


    The left side of my lip quirked upwards, and then I nervously avoided his gaze. To stare at him any


    longer would be at my peril. Teddy must have gotten the hint, for he stepped aside and returned to his


    normal stool where he would conduct his paintings. I watched him busy himself with his apron, securing


    it neatly before he set up his station. I wandered about the room, and made sure to open the door a


    crack in case Luna wanted toe inside.


    Rain continued to fall down from the heavens, sending a light mist into the room with the familiar scent


    of rainfall that I loved so well. “Fill this with water,” Teddy requested, while holding up arge container


    just behind his back. “I need it.”


    It was strange how easily I fell into his domestic surroundings, especially when I took the item from his


    hand and headed to the kitchen to fill it. When I looked over my shoulder, Teddy was already lifting up a


    nearlypleted painting. His mind had turned over to his work; a good sign for his sanity at least.


    Upon entering the kitchen I felt the temperature to be unreasonably cold, and a queer sort of feeling


    that I was suddenly being watched. The house was silent though, and there was nothing in my


    surroundings to cause any form of rm. The tap was turned on and I slowly filled the container, while


    keeping an eye out for Luna. When I peered through the ss of the foggy window I thought I had


    caught sight of my own reflection, but the figure wasrger than my own. I turned around instantly to


    find that nothing was there, and immediately shut off the tap. I held my breath with anticipation, and


    frantically looked around the room. There was a low whimpering sound, as if someone was in pain,


    forcing my head to turn to the left to observe the tightly sealed door with the heavy iron chain, wrapped


    around the doorknob and hooked around the corner of the wall, where a bronze hook jutted out of it. I


    wondered where that room led to, and if someone was down there. Should I be afraid of Teddy? Could


    there be someone down there like me? Some victim of his, or had my imagination gone too far? I


    turned on the tap once again, and forced my mind to a more positive sphere. I came to the logical


    conclusion that it was only my imagination, or the sound of the wind that made that sound that first


    rmed me. Still, what sound in this house could create such a painful whimper, such a low moan of


    pain? I filled the water as high as I could and quickly scampered out the room.


    “Back already?” Teddy questioned me, without ever looking back. “Excellent.”


    “Do you need me to fill up anything else?”


    “What? No! I only want you to go into the music room. Feel free to take up any book you’d like. Be a


    dear for me, and turn on the music. I concentrate better that way. If you could be quiet while I paint, I


    will make the most of this opportunity.”


    “And what is that?”


    “Oh, having you here in the room with me,” he said with all politeness. He waved his free hand over his


    shoulder, dismissing me with a simple gesture. I embarked on the errand to switch on the radio, hardly


    amused when ssical music began to y. His bookshelf was full of non-fiction books, a sad fact that


    he did not enjoy stories as much as I did. I picked up a quaint travelling book about India, and then


    walked back into the art room where he quietly worked.


    “S?” he voiced aloud. “I heard your footsteps. Where would you like to sit?” His paintbrush continued


    to dab on the canvas, focusing on a particr area of a tree in the corner of the painting. “You can


    bring the stool closer.”


    He turned around finally, revealing a smile that took me by surprise.


    “I promise you that I will work on your portrait. It feels quite awkward doing it next to you. Besides, I


    ought to finish this one. Feel free to look at my other work, though do take care. It is my living, you


    know.”


    Iid the travelling book down on the stool and explored the length of his room. For someone that was


    normally organized, his workspace was in a state of disarray. I thought it was an acute reflection of his


    own mind, but I should not go so far as to judge him on the appearance of his studio alone.


    Teddy’s eyes were bent upon the canvas, utterly fixated with his work. I felt free enough to look at his


    landscape paintings, noticing that he was very talented at his work. “Teddy? Who taught you how to


    draw?”


    “No one taught me.”


    “But did you study it in school?”


    “My boarding school did not put much emphasis on the arts.”


    “Boarding school?”


    “Yes,” he drawled in a heartless way.


    “Did you study it afterwards? Go to another school for it?”


    “No, never.”


    “So you were born with this gift.”


    “I worked at it,” he remarked with his back to me. “It takes years of experience.”


    I drew myself closer to him, until I was at his side. “I think it’s wonderful.” He tilted his head upwards


    and to the right to have a better look at me. “You can y the piano, draw, paint, and are so well


    educated.”


    “I had a good mentor,” he quietly exined. “And a guardian that was bent upon bringing out the best


    of me. I was like a wounded bird when I was first brought to his doorstep. I daresay, I still am.” He


    lowered his paintbrush grievously. “But I have be all of this through sheer determination alone.”


    “Determination is one thing,” I noted. “But I would say you are a genius.”


    “Like Einstein?” he teased. “No, I am no genius. All of this has been incurred in most recent years, I


    can assure you.”


    “And before that?”


    His mouth turned crooked, bent downwards with disdain. “I’d rather not talk about it.” He averted his


    gaze from me. “I enjoy the way things are. The less you know about me, the easier it will be for us


    both.”


    “You have so many secrets.”


    “Some secrets are best to keep to one’s self.”


    “Debatable,” I hushed from the corner of my mouth.


    “Believe me, S. There are some things that you should keep close to your heart.” He raised up his


    right hand, letting his paintbrush stick upwards. “After all, things are better between us this way. You


    are not tainted! No, not like the others before you.”


    “What others?”


    “People,” he sneered. “How they look at me! And- and whisper things behind my back. They treat me


    as though I was Satan himself.”


    “But you are not him,” I lightly teased to cheer up his mood.


    “Not even close!” Teddy blurted out in anger. “Why should I suffer for the sins of others? I cannot


    change things! I cannot cut myself and let my blood pour out upon the floor just to appease them. I am


    not my…” He bit down on his tongue, and I could see the venomous sh of something akin to hatred


    pool over his ckened eyes. “Let’s change the topic,” he sharply stated. “I am done with this


    conversation.”


    “Okay, Teddy.”


    “Good,” he said with utter respite, and that was the end of it.