Teddy stood at the bottom of the hill with a long, black umbrella in hand. A few droplets of rain crashed
down upon the hilly land, 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 black for the morning, with a smoky grey flat cap covering his head. He removed it
once I stood in front of him, and angled the umbrella in a certain way to block out the rain for me.
“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 to come all the way down the hill
to tell me that.”
“I was rude yesterday,” Teddy apologized. “And cold towards you.” His hat was placed 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 umbrella 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, Sela. 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 chocolate 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 umbrella was shared between us, allowing him to be as close beside me as possible.
We walked in companionable silence up the hill, where only the faint lapses 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; a large 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 my lap. 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
contemplated 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 placed 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, Sela. 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 glass
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, Sela?”
“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 declared, 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 welcome to come 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,” he complained, 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 were laid 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 blatantly 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
particular; 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 declared 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 placed 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 different compartment 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 me completely. 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 displayed 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 black ink, and then frame it for you.”
I turned around sharply, and exclaimed: “You would do that?” He responded with a small nod of his
head in affirmation. “You’ve done so much for me,” I exclaimed. “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
the last of the space between us. “I want to show you the rest of my lands. You would like the
shoreline, I think.” He took a long pause to let him interlace his fingers together and place it over the
front of his lap. “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 glad you are feeling better. If you still
want, we can take a walk outside.”
“In the rain?” he laughed 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 to come 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 a large 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
nearly completed 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 alarm. The tap was turned on and I slowly filled the container, while
keeping an eye out for Luna. When I peered through the glass of the foggy window I thought I had
caught sight of my own reflection, but the figure was larger 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
alarmed 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 classical music began to play. 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.
“Sela?” he voiced aloud. “I heard your footsteps. Where would you like to sit?” His paintbrush continued
to dab on the canvas, focusing on a particular 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.”
I laid 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 play the piano, draw, paint, and are so well
educated.”
“I had a good mentor,” he quietly explained. “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 become 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, Sela. 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 flash of something akin to hatred
pool over his blackened 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.
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