Fading, Like the Stars

As soon as I stepped inside the caravan, Rufus lifted his head to look at me. In his eyes, there was confusion. I could see that very clearly. But there was also something else that, to me, looked a lot like disappointment. Honestly, I wanted to run away. Right now.

Things only seemed to be going from bad to worse.

“I... I can explain,” I said, in a voice that was pathetically weak.

Explain what, or how, I had no idea. It was not true, of course. There was nothing to explain. Things were pretty clear as they were, and I wasn’t gifted enough to turn them in my favor, twist them in a manner that would make me look better. What kind of explanation could I come up with, really? These things were illegal. Carrying them around was against the law. There was no way I could pretend that I didn’t know that. There was no way I could make this pass for an accident. I knew what the law was, and I knew that what I had done was against it. And thus, this made me an outlaw. I could never find an explanation that would erase that fact. But I wanted – I so desperately wanted – to salvage what could be salvaged. I needed to fix things, even though I had no idea how to do it.

When he looked at me, there was no kindness in Rufus’ eyes, no understanding painted on his face. Even that spark that his eyes held a little earlier had gone. His face was a mask. An undecipherable mask. It scared me.

“Rufus,” I tried to plead. “I … It’s not… I can explain…”

“I don’t think there’s much need for explanation.” His voice was rougher than usual. I couldn’t decide whether that flicker in his eyes was one of anger or disappointment. Either way, it was not good.

I took a step back. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. It was a mechanism. A defense mechanism. I would never, ever, have thought that I would one day react that way to Rufus. Never. But I was too trained to caution to do anything else. I hated my own body for having that reaction, but it was so accustomed to that, so accustomed to retreating at the first sign of danger, that sometimes it seemed like it was the only thing that it could still do. I did not want to step away from Rufus. I did not want it because I was not scared of him, I did not want to be scared of him. But truth was that I didn’t know. I didn’t know anymore. I’d thought that I could trust him. I’d been certain of that. I could trust him. And perhaps even more.

But how could I be sure?

“Aimée,” Rufus sighed, shaking his head in disbelief, and this stopped me in my retreat. Anger and disappointment seemed to have disappeared in that moment, leaving only worry. “Oh, Aimée. You really… really need to be more careful with this.”

“W-What?” I asked, stuttering. Because… because this didn’t make sense. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting. I’d been certain to hear some sort of accusation. Not scolding because I was not careful enough.

Rufus sighed. “Look, Aimée, I…” He made an annoyed sound that sounded much like a growl and that, in different circumstances, would probably have made me laugh a little. “I know I shouldn’t have looked,” Rufus said. He was clearly annoyed, and angered. I hadn’t been wrong on that. But he was not annoyed by something I had done, but… by… by himself?

“I mean, I really shouldn’t have… it’s your stuff – I’m sorry – and you want to keep it private – I don’t want you to think that I don’t respect people’s privacy, I do… well, I usually do – and you have all the right to be mad at me and I understand this, but this,” he waved the book that was still in his hands in the air, his agitation growing with every word that he said, “… is dangerous. Caution, Aimée, please. If it hadn’t been me…” He sighed again. As he talked, he’d gotten up and had gathered all the books. Then he’d knelt down and had started fumbling with the floorboard. “Ha!”

With a cracking sound, one of the planks came off, revealing a hole. He methodically stuffed the books in it, then put the plank back in its place. I watched him doing all this without saying a word. I was much too busy trying to make sense of all that was happening.

“There,” Rufus said, and the books had all disappeared, and he placed a carpet over the floorboard. “Better.”

He stood up again. We looked at each other for a long time. I didn’t know what he was thinking about, but I, personally, was wondering what to say now that all secrets were out in the open. This was what I had secretly wanted for a long time. To have someone who knew me for who I really was. If there was one person that I had ever considered telling all the truth to, the truth about my life and why I was always moving like I used to, that person was Rufus. But I had been afraid. Afraid of what he would think, and afraid of losing that connection that I felt we had. But now, he knew the worst. There was no obstacle left. He knew about the books. Telling him about the rest wouldn’t be very difficult. Now, everything was possible. That didn’t mean, however, that nothing could be lost.

Rufus slowly moved away from the spot where all the books were hidden, and we momentarily lost eye contact. He seemed worried, and so was I.

I sighed as I thought of how much things had changed in the space of just one night. First that kiss, and then that horrible moment when I had found Rufus with the book in his hands, and now the fact that he seemed to have accepted it all and seemed, in appearance at least, to be ready to help me. There was a part of me that told me that it had always been obvious that Rufus was that kind of person, that he would help without asking any question. The rest of me didn’t think much of it. It was still trying to believe that all the things that had happened tonight were real.

Little by little, I started to accept it all. Yes, it was real. Everything really had happened. All of it. And I began to worry about the consequences.

“Rufus?” I whispered, and he looked at me again. “What now?” I asked.

“What now?” he repeated, as if he didn’t understand where the question came from.

The real question was: What do we do now? What are we now? And also: Where do we go from here?
But I was too tired to ask it. So I just looked at him and repeated: “What now?”

Rufus sighed softly and took his face in his hands a short moment. “I don’t know,” he eventually mumbled. He looked up and forced a smile on his face. We were both lost now, and I didn’t understand how we had ended up this way. “I don’t know,” he repeated, “but…”

He extended an arm in my direction, hand open and palm upwards. What he wanted was quite clear, but I hesitated. Accepting his hand would mean that I trusted him, completely. Trusting him when he didn’t know who I was exactly had been easy, but now that he knew the truth it was completely different. Now it would mean letting go, completely, and it wasn’t something that I was used to.

“Come…”

All resistance was futile when he spoke in a voice so soft and kind. Besides, what reasons had I to resist? I had trusted Rufus with my life when I didn’t even know him. Now that I knew him, I only had more reasons to trust him. I resolutely placed my hand in his. I would force myself to trust Rufus, to trust him completely, because deep inside that was what I wanted. I would care later about what the consequences could be. Later. Rufus closed his fingers around my hand and pulled me towards him.

“Can I ask you to trust me?” He asked, looking at me. I had never seen, and never would see, more intensity in somebody’s stare than I did at that moment.

I nodded, no longer trusting my own voice.

“You know that I won’t do anything to harm you, do you?”

I sighed, lowering my head towards his and resting my forehead against his. “Of course I know,” I whispered, discovering with amazement that I did not have to force myself to trust him. I already did.

“I must show you something. We… we haven’t told you all of the truth… about this place. We couldn’t. But I can’t explain, I must show you. You’ll understand everything more clearly. But I can’t do it right now, so you’ll have to trust me for the moment.” He looked at me again, his eyes piercing through me in the same way that they had done that day that we had met for the first time. He was waiting for an answer, but I did not understand this immediately. So he asked it again. “Do you trust me? Will you wait?”

“Yes.” I wanted to add something, but there was nothing that came to my mind. I was feeling light-headed, suddenly. Like I wasn’t completely sober. It was not just a result of our physical proximity, although that did help. The secret that we shared, and the promise that another one would come, had brought us closer than we any physical contact would ever have made us. There was a tacit agreement between us now. We accepted each other’s untold stories, no matter what they were. Being accepted for what one is, completely, was not something that comes often in life. It was an elating feeling, and I was afraid to speak out of fear that I would reveal more of my sentiments before I felt that it was time to do so.

We spoke no more. There was no need to. More things passed through the contact of our touching foreheads, than words would ever have been able to convey. Then, there was also the fact that I was afraid that words would spoil what I had now. I would not be the first to speak. I felt complete with what I had now.

This lasted for a long moment. Neither of us moved nor spoke. Outside, everything was dark. But inside the caravan, a soft yellow light was enveloping us. Out there, in the sky, there were probably millions of stars, and the moon too had to be shining brightly. We didn’t care. We had no use for the moon or the stars. Those are artifices for those who did not share what we shared. All the lights in the world, all the words and the flirty looks are nothing compared to complete trust. Nothing that was outside the caravan interested us for the moment. For now, our world stopped at the walls of the caravan.

And everything in our small world was silent. There was not a sound to hear, safe for the noise made by my own beating heart in my chest. It was Rufus who broke the silence.

“I need to do something,” he said softly, reluctantly letting go of my hand. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and I patiently waited for what was to come next. “But I’ll be back soon, believe me. I’ll be back as soon as I can. You do trust me, right?” he asked again, apparently worried about the answer that I would give.

It wasn’t the first time that he asked that tonight. It seemed to matter a lot to him, because despite the affirmative response that I had already given him, he was asking once again.

“I trust you. Completely. And I’ll be waiting for you, if this is what you’re asking,” I murmured, taking a step back as he stood up.

He seemed reassured and smiled. “Good.” He cast a quick look towards the tiny window, and I did the same, although I could not see anything, and had no idea what he was looking at. “I’ll be back before dawn, at any rate. Then we can talk some more, if there is something you want to talk about, or if you have questions.”

To be honest, talking wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind. I had… there were other things that I wanted. But I didn’t say it, because it did not seem like the appropriate moment.

Rufus moved towards the door, but not before having given me another smile. “You should rest now, if you can.”

I nodded, but I did not think that I would be getting any rest that night. And the fact that I was tired wouldn’t change anything. I was tired, but I was also much too excited by all the things that had happened tonight, and by the perspective of what could happen tomorrow. Not to mention that my head was now so full of him that I would never be able to close my eyes.

When Rufus went down the few steps, there seemed to be a new bounce in his step. His pace was lighter. He seemed to be happier and more relieved. But I was perhaps projecting my own feelings there.

And then he was out of sight. I had somewhat expected another kiss before he went, but it hadn’t happened. Perhaps I should have given him one…

Resting that night was out of the question. What had happened this night had brought more questions than answers, and I wouldn’t feel at peace until I felt that those questions had all been properly answered. As the night dragged on, I began to wonder where Rufus could have been, and what he was doing. What was so important that he had to do it now? I knew he had promised to answer all these questions in due time, and I knew that I had promised that I would wait for his answers, but that did not make me less curious.

And as I started to wonder where he had gone, I began to worry. If Rufus had not told me where he went, it could as well be somewhere dangerous. I didn’t want something to happen to him. Not now. I had always cared for him more than I cared to admit, but if something were to happen to him now that there was this world of possibilities before me, I didn’t know what I would have done.

I waited for the dawn. Not patiently. The last thing I could do was being patient. It seemed that the feelings that I had forced myself to ignore during all this time were bubbling to the surface, all at the same time. An hour or so after Rufus had left, I was pacing in the caravan, wondering when the dawn would break, and where the hell he could have gone. Two hours after he had left, I was feeling so anxious that I thought I was incapable of moving. There was a heavy mass weighing on my stomach, and I felt more and more like I was going to be sick.

Three hours after Rufus had left, I was on the brink of hysteria.

“This can’t go on like this,” I tried to tell myself. “You need to get a grip.”

You need to get a grip. And truly, I did. I wasn’t a stranger to anxiety. I had known more than an event, in my life, that had had me worry. There were soldiers on patrol, that could catch you at any moment; there were people too curious that could discover the secret that you were hiding – or even just suspect it – and sell you to the above-mentioned soldiers; there were accidents – they were frequent when you spent you life running away; there was exhaustion, and there were illnesses that you couldn’t cure, because for obvious reasons you couldn’t stop by at a doctor’s and ask him to cure you; and there was hunger. And those were only a few of the things that I had had to wake up with every day, knowing I might have to face them. And, as I was no hero, all these things had always frightened me. But it had never been to the point where I felt that I could not even move.

This was the first time, however, that I worried for someone else than myself.

Well decided to act like I had always done and not to let fear paralyze me, I opened the door of the caravan and stepped outside. I didn’t know what I had hoped to find. Some sign? Someone standing there, ready to tell me what was going on? Rufus, striding towards me with a smile on his face?

There was nothing of that sort, of course. There was nothing, and there was no one. Everything was silent, and everyone was sleeping, and I should have been doing the same.

I looked up at the sky, hoping to see that it had paled a bit. But it was still as dark as before. I sighed. The air around me was cold. The breeze that was blowing wasn’t helping. I shivered. Returning to the caravan and wait some more was all that was left to do, now. And it was what I did. I would have given anything to just fall asleep, at that point. There was nothing that I could do, and sleeping would have made the hours pass more quickly. But I couldn’t fall asleep. I didn’t know why and it was stupid, but I just couldn’t sleep anymore.

I explored the caravan for a bit, trying to distract myself. I didn’t find anything interesting, but it was better than just sit there and wait. Anything was better than just sit there and wait. Now that I knew that I had seen Rufus hide things under the floor, I wondered if there were other hiding places, and if there were, what was hidden in them. I would gladly have rummaged some more to see if I could find those hidden things, but it didn’t seem very fitting after having promised to Rufus that I would wait for him to come back and tell me things.

In the end, I sat down in a corner, with my head resting against a wall, and my eyes surveying the sky through the tiny window. And I waited. It was in that position that I fell asleep.

When I woke up, the sun was already high in the sky.