Finally, Paul spilled the beans: 'I failed them. I was supposed to watch out for them, and now it may be too late.'
Lukas shook his head and commented: 'That cannot be so, you are not responsible for everything that goes wrong in your quarter. That is too great a burden for any one person to bear. Did anyone ask you for help, which you refused?'
Very surprised by Lukas contradicting him, Paul shook his head. 'And have you risked your life today to find out what is happening?' Lukas went on.
'Melissa anchored me, so it wasn't that dangerous,' was Paul's feeble retort.
Lukas snorted at his reasoning, but continued: 'And did you find out what is happening?' Paul nodded: 'I did, and it was horrible.' 'And the search left you dead tired and depressed?' Lukas supplied. Another nod. 'So you did what you could today, didn't you?' I was amazed, for under this cross-examination,
Paul lost some of his attitude.
He was clearly in doubt about the last question. 'What more can you do today Paul?' Lukas asked. 'I know where they are, the dryads, I could go and get them,' he said. Now, Lukas relented a bit, saying: 'But dear Paul, they went wherever they are now of their own free will. If you hunt them down and bring them back to their trees, what will stop them from leaving again? And can you force them to take care of the trees? You need to find out what happened to make them leave in the first place. And what is the best way to do that?
'Go to Sir Nomes' place and ask him,' Paul admitted. 'So there you are, nothing for it but to wait until tomorrow,' Lukas reasoned, 'so what will we do tonight?'
'Sleep?' Paul suggested. 'Wrong answer!' Lukas said triumphantly, 'tonight we're going to make some fun!'
Even I didn't see that one coming. But Lukas didn't mind explaining at all:
'This afternoon, I passed by a beautiful park, and in that beautiful park was a pavilion where one could sit and have a drink and a chat, and maybe a little dance.
And tonight I'm taking you there.' That sounded like a lot of fun, so I said:
'I'm in. I haven't been out for a very long time, and I think it's a great idea.'
Lukas laughed and stood up, invited me in his arms, then spun both of us round and round. It felt wonderful, he was wonderful, very animated and very graceful.
Looking at Paul I thought he looked tired still, but the prospect of dancing tempted him as well. 'All right, I'll come too,' he said, 'if you'll dance with me too, Melissa.' 'Of course I will, dearest Paul, I'd love to,' I said, 'and I'll wear my nicest dress to make it worth your while.' We washed up quickly and all dressed in our best clothes.
My dress was a real head-turner, dark green to match my coppery hair, with shimmering stones sewn all over the skirts and a bodice to seduce a prince with. Of course I let my hair loose, keeping only the front part from my face with a green ribbon.
My men looked their best too, Paul in his usual nonchalant style of natural coloured linen trousers and shirt, only without the leather vest this time, both items made of the best quality fabrics, fitted to his body like a glove. He wore a more elegant version of his boots, his silver belt buckle was subtly adorned
with flying dragons, and he had matching silver wrist-guards on his arms. He was stunningly beautiful, and he knew it.
Lukas of course couldn't wear fitted trousers, they'd give away his tail and his weirdly jointed legs instantly. But a bright blue shirt that Paul had given to him had been fitted to Paul as a young man, when he was a lot narrower still, and it fit Lukas admirably, the more flamboyant colour and pattern suited Lukas perfectly.
I thought he was about to set a new trend amongst the hip youngsters. His slim figure was incredibly elegant, and the tiny shoes underneath his flowing pants emphasised that impression. I was incredibly proud to be going out with two such fine looking men. We went down the stairs together, and were about to step out on to the street, when Paul asked us to follow him into his workshop for a moment.
Of course we went in, and he lighted a gas lamp, then pulled a drawer from his cabinet and carefully laid out the contents in the lamp light. They were stunning. He held a golden necklace before me, and I saw Lukas' chin drop.
Grinning, Paul asked: 'Too much for a pavilion?' Lukas nodded fervently and said: 'That is worth a fortune, you cannot risk wearing that to a public dance.'
Curious now, I asked for a mirror and Lukas held one before me. I agreed with him, no way would I wear that to a public place.
The necklace was made of solid golden links, shaped like dragon's claws holding on to each other In the middle was a large green stone, not in one solid colour, but darkening towards the middle, giving the impression of hidden depth.
Paul removed it, then replaced it by a red copper one with running horses, linked head to flowing tail, seeming to really move around my throat. The copper matched my dress and my hair, and the real value lay in the superb craftsmanship, not in the metal. Paul looked at me in that particular way that always made my hart skip a beat, rooting me to the ground.
I found my voice again after some time: 'I'll wear this one tonight, if you want me to.' He kissed me on my cheek once, almost afraid to touch me in my lovely dress.
But he wasn't done yet. Rummaging through the contents of the box, he came up with a chain in his hand, and handing the mirror to me and placing Lukas in front of it, he held the necklace before him.
The links of the chain were made of bronze, slowly increasing in size towards the middle, where the largest and biggest two were shaped like wings.
Between the wings was an eye, shaped from a yellow stone in a bronze setting. The stone was patterned in a circle like a real eye. It had a disconcerting stare, and sat precisely in the middle of Lukas' chest. He loved it.
Paul asked him if he wanted to wear it tonight, and he did, very much so.
Paul put the rest of the jewellery, including the priceless golden necklace, back into the drawer as if they were spare parts of no value, turned off the lamp, and we followed Lukas to the place he had discovered.
It was really impossible to see that he was not wearing normal shoes on normal feet, and he walked with a certain spring in his step that spoke his happiness louder than words could.
When we arrived in the park, we could already hear the sound of music, played rather fast. We soon reached the pavilion, where we found a table to ourselves and ordered drinks. From where we were sitting we could watch the dancing, and it seemed quite a heady business. I recognized the steps, but I was not sure I was up to the speed at which they had to be performed. Paul also professed he'd rather wait until there was a slower dance, to polish the rust off our dancing before we'd try for real.
Lukas sat out one dance with us, but he was soon checked out by several young ladies looking for a partner. 'Why don't you ask one of them to dance, Lukas, I'm sure you can match the speed,' Paul teased him. 'Which one should I choose?' he asked, unable to decide for himself.
Paul suggested: 'Ask the blonde first, she's petite and elegant, she will not step on your feet the whole time or lean on you heavily.' And so Lukas did, and soon we could see him dance with the petite blonde, matching the insane speed pace by pace, not missing a step. Paul observed: 'He is one hell of a dancer, I think he can lead you through one if you dare brave the fatigue of dancing at that speed.'
He was right, and I did want to try it, it had felt so good to whirl around Paul's kitchen. So when Lukas came back to our table, breathing slightly fast, to have a little rest, I told him I'd try a fast round with him.
He was delighted, and wanted to go out straight away, so we did, and as soon as we were on the floor he turned me lightning fast, and we hopped and turned together until I at least was dizzy and felt half-drunk. I asked him to let
me have a breather, so he took me back to Paul and asked another girl, another blonde but a shade taller, to dance. Paul couldn't help himself anymore, and he very elegantly asked me to dance with him.
Now why did this give me a little thrill, when with Lukas I had jus
t walked off and danced? I didn't know, and I didn't think about it, he led me to the dance-floor and turned me straight away, as Lukas had done, settling in the lightning speed of the dance as easily as Lukas had.
And why shouldn't he? Despite his older man attitude, he was probably as young as either of us, and in excellent shape from his physical labour. We whirled again, and hopped, and skipped, and he even led me through some new steps he saw a neighbouring couple perform. He was an athlete, and I felt like the queen of the ball, dancing with such an agile and handsome man.
Meanwhile, I was getting my share of admiring looks as well, and if Paul hadn't been such an accomplished dancer and such a handsome and self-assured man, I'm sure I would have had plenty of offers to dance from other men. As it was, I had no trouble at all dancing just with him, and the giddiness that the dance caused made me feel as if I was drunk.
I asked for a little pause, and Paul admitted he was getting slightly dizzy himself. We sat down at our table with new drinks, looking for Lukas, who was nowhere to be seen. I decided not to worry about him, he would only be in danger of discovery if he undressed, and there was not much opportunity to do that on a dance-floor.
After another round of dancing I thought Paul was starting to look slightly the worse for wear, and I had to go to work the next day, so I was ready to leave.
And then I spotted Lukas, back on the dance-floor with a girl whose dress looked rather rumpled.
Lukas was the same impeccable figure as ever, still walking in a straight line, not even breathing hard. I decided to call him over to make arrangements for him to come home on his own, and when he looked at our table just before the music started, I gestured at him to come over for a while. He did straight away, trailed by a chagrined girl who wanted to dance more, and tried to convince him to ignore me. But that was not Lukas, he came over, ignoring the girl instead, and sat down with us.
'What is it?' he asked gaily, do you want to dance another round with me? I said: 'Actually, I was planning to go home, I have an early day tomorrow, and
Paul is starting to look a little weary, he's had a rough day.'
Immediately understanding, he asked: 'Do you want me to come with you?' I shook my head, and said: 'Suit yourself, you can decide tomorrow morning if you want to come to work with me, if you're too tired you can come some other time. We can give you a key and you can come home whenever you like.
But be careful not to become too intimate with anyone, lest they discover your tail, or horns, or hoofs.' He smiled conspiratorially, and said: 'I've already found out how far I can go, just a quick one is the habit here, against a hedge or a tree. No undressing, no fondling, these girls want it straight and fast, between two rounds of dancing so to speak.'
I can't say I wasn't shocked to hear this, but I managed to keep a straight face and said: 'Oh, that's safe enough then.' He nodded, then said gaily: 'If you'll do one more round with me, I'll come home with the two of you, is that acceptable to you?'
Looking at Paul, who looked back questioningly, I asked him: 'Would it be all right with you if I dance one more round with Lukas, and to go home after that?'
He smiled and said: 'I'd like to dance another round with you myself, can you make it two?' I felt flattered, and told him: 'Sure, love to,' then went off with Lukas. He had lost none of his speed, despite having danced most rounds, and having been differently engaged between those rounds.
I could see this was something he really loved to do, and we spun and hopped again until we were dizzy and breathless. When we stopped, I could just see Paul coming from the dance floor, blonde girl leaving his arms.
He claimed me for his last dance, and Lukas asked another girl. The music started again, and we were off, moving again at breakneck speed. It was exhilarating, and I wanted to go on and on, but when the music stopped again for a moment, we walked off together and soon ran into Lukas, who had been looking for us. Still breathless and a bit dizzy, we walked home, Paul with one of us on each arm.
He told me: 'That blonde girl asked me to dance, said she had seen me dance and wanted to have a round with me very badly. So I agreed, and she was a good dancer. Not as beautiful as you, but then, who is?' And at Lukas: 'That was a good idea, Lukas, I haven't had such a good time in, I think, years. I do need to worry less and go out more.
Did you enjoy yourself?' Lukas replied: 'I sure did, loved the dancing, and lots of pretty girls asking very few questions.' Feeling kind of fascinated, I asked: 'How many did you have?' He answered: 'Just the two, the other one only wanted to dance, and that was fine by me.'
Paul now looked at me concernedly, and I returned what I hoped was a helpless look. I didn't know what to do, I knew this would happen, but so soon, and so casually? Would I be able to accept it, still love Lukas the way I had? I just didn't know. I needed some time to think, to come to terms with it.
I had looked forward to continuing our making out in private, but now the thought of making love with Lukas felt totally different. I was very disappointed in myself to be so jealous, but I couldn't help feeling like that.
It was as if Paul sensed my need, for he put an arm around me and kissed me on my cheek. I felt supported straight away, and though I still didn't know what to do, I didn't feel so achingly lonely anymore.
Of course, Paul had already gone through this process before we had even made love, but that was different in a way, he knew Lukas and liked him. Yet another part of me retorted: that must have made it even more difficult, maybe still finds it hard, you don't know that. I just knew one thing, I could not hope to prevent this, so I really had to learn to live with it. I could no more cast Lukas out of my life and out of my heart than I could give up an arm or a leg.
Fighting tears, I was determined not to let Lukas see me cry. He would not understand, it would upset him without being able to do anything about it.
Unfortunately, very sensitive to my feelings, he had noticed by now that my mood had changed, and he walked next to me and asked me if I was feeling well. What could I do but fight tears and let Paul make an excuse for me?
He told Lukas: 'I think that last dance with me was a bit much for Melissa, remember, we had a really tough search this afternoon, she saw some sad things.' Incredibly, he seemed to understand exactly what I was feeling, including my unwillingness to let Lukas know about it. I couldn't speak, but I squeezed his hand to thank him, and in return, he kissed me again, chastely on the cheek.
Inside me, a really strong part of me now started to laugh at my own hurt feelings. It said: 'Do you realize now what you have put this deserving man through? Do you feel the pain he felt, knowing you slept with another, night after night, whilst he was longing for you in silence? Starting to feel his own
kind of love for the man who caused him the pain. Are you really going to allow yourself to cry for Lukas in selfishness, when you knew from the very first that this would happen, knowing you are doing the same thing to another?
I knew that part of me was right, and I also knew Paul loved me and would love me exclusively, maybe not forever, but nearly forever. I would never have to be hurt by him choosing other partners. But I also loved Lukas, and though I knew I could probably live without him, he couldn't live without me.
He could never be totally himself with any other woman on this world. Could I demand from him that he stay away from other women? Did I want to? Was it rational for me to ask that sacrifice of him to suit my Victorian principles?
To give up even more of his identity than he had already given up?
I was not going to solve this dilemma in a quarter of an hour, and I concluded I certainly would have to discuss it with Paul, and likely with Lukas as well.
But at least my stronger self had shaken me out of my self-pity and thus taken away my impulse to cry.
Next to me, Paul immediately noticed the difference in my attitude. He looked at me quizzingly, and I said: 'My stronger self objected severely against my pitying myself, when I have been putting you
through the same pain for at least a month. Worse, for I have you, and you have no-one else. I cannot begin to understand how lonely you must have felt, may still feel at night. I cannot promise you to stop loving Lukas, but I will promise you that things will change.'
This hit Paul like a hammer, and I instantly regretted speaking without thinking of his feelings first. His face instantly changed to that of the really young man on the sofa, showing all his hurt, his insecurity, his loneliness. He could not walk anymore, or talk anymore.
This could not be solved in a few minutes, this needed my undivided attention. Lukas of course didn't understand anything anymore, and I asked him to not question anything now, but to just go ahead to the house, and have patience with us for an hour. I would try to explain it to him tomorrow. He was worried, but seemed to understand, and he walked on alone.
I went to Paul, who had sat down right where he was standing, and who was trying to compose himself with every thread of will he possessed, failing miserably. I felt so guilty, as if I had shoved my hurt at him just to be rid of it myself.
I asked him to please get up and off the road, we could sit in a grassy spot just ahead. He did, mechanically. I sat next to him, wrapping my arms around him, which he accepted, he even relaxed a bit. I decided to try out his own method of getting people to speak their heart by being silent, even though I yearned to apologise to him a thousandfold.
It worked, for he started to speak haltingly: 'Now you understand part of it.
You have felt the jealousy, the endless wondering why you alone aren't enough. But you are right, you have not felt all. I feel terribly lonely every night, knowing you're not, neither of you. You have no way of knowing how that hurts. Couldn't know, for I've never been able to tell you or show you how it hurt me to be left every night.
I've put a brave face on it, took leave laughing, hoping to see you back the next day. I need to know, Melissa, are you playing with me? Using me to fill the loneliness you knew you were going to feel when this started? I want you so much I might be able to live with being second best, but I need to know.'
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