The Veil - Chapter 16

Lunch was a surprising quiet affair, considering the men involved. The Eshe house was a common area. None of his friends’ parents had declared blood feuds with his, and his mansion was not embarrassingly ill kept as some of the less fortunate houses had been in recent years. The Eshe family still had money to pay to servants and for precious items that no self-respecting noble could do without. Seven boy-men sat around the table, and Lekan would glance up from his plate to see six pairs of eyes flick down.

Looking around at the faces of those he had known in his childhood, had played and fought with, he realized he knew none of them. Oh, he knew that Yenii was horrifically shy and didn’t truly approve of everything that went on and that Ven’s only wanted to paint though it was considered a woman’s hobby and a commoner’s profession. Why though? he asked himself as he studied each boy turned man thoughtfully, refusing to look away when they looked up to meet his gaze. Why had Yenii stayed with them all these years, only to be the butt of jokes?

“Ven,” he suddenly asked, smirking at the biggest of his friends. “What do you love about art?”

The table was silent as his friends glanced at each other, shrugging a little as if to say, “He’s dying soon. Let’s not argue.”

“Ah…” Ven put his silverware down with a delicate clink and linked his hands together. “The masters would disagree with me here, but I love it because it’s meaningless beauty.” He cleared his throat, blushing a little as others turned to look at him.

“Well, what do you mean by that?” another boy asked, crossing his arms.

“I mean, my paintings give me joy for their existence and nothing else. Some put hidden meanings in their work, but I think that’s far too much work. We should enjoy paintings like we do a woman walking down the street, something nice to look at.”

Looking around the quiet room, Lekan saw several different levels of acceptance and mockery on his friends’ faces. Words gushing out before he could rethink them, he blurted, “I don’t want to leave.” He wanted to scream when no one said anything, very interested in their plates. “I barely know any of you. I know you like to drink and have a good time.” He had to put his fork down as his stomach turned at the thought that he couldn’t tell what half of their birthdays were.

One of them shrugged. “I think that’s all we want. That’s all you wanted too.”

Nodding, several of them agreed. “We just want a laugh.”

As Lekan studied them all wordlessly, finding himself agreeing with them despite himself, Ven stood, clearing his throat. “I think… I’m going to head out. Lunch was delicious. Thank you for having us, Lekan.” He ducked his head and walked out quickly. Others quickly left as well, one calling, “Hey, Ven, are you going to be looking for art walking down the street to be enjoyed?”

Soon, Lekan was alone as Yenii slowly and silently made his way to the door. He stopped, his brown face thoughtful as he turned to Lekan. “I think,” he murmured quietly, “that it’s hard for us to find ourselves and make true relationships as we’re all pretending to fit the same mold. I wish you luck, Lekan. I’ll be interested to see who you are when you come back. Perhaps we’ll have grown too.” He paused as if seeing if Lekan was going to say something and, when Lekan only blinked slowly, he nodded and left.

Lekan pushed the flowered china around on the table and rested his forehead on the mahogany. He’d always thought the table was excessive when only he, his mother, and occasionally his father ate at it. It stretched a distance. He could lie on it comfortably if he wanted to.

He had the vague idea that he should be angry, but he was just exhausted. The empty throb of shock pulsed in his core. He wondered what he was so surprised about.

That his friends weren’t loyal?

That he wasn’t hurt by their lack of support?

That he knew nothing about any of them?

The room, wide with a short ceiling that had cast iron lighting fixtures dripping down, felt too open and claustrophobic at the same time.

“It’s quiet in here. Did Lekan and his friends already leave, Mr. Fughi? That didn’t take as long as it-”

Lekan didn’t look up when he heard Obi walk in though a part of him reminded him that he would lose if he looked week in front of Obi. Lose what? he asked himself.

“Have you finally realized you’ve been keeping companies with idiots?” Obi’s voice was a mix of gentle and condescension that rubbed Lekan the wrong way.

“They’re young, not idiots,” he snapped and looked up to glare up at Obi’s skeptic face.