Chapter
24 ? Comfortable
Justin
liked eating dinner in the castle so much.
He
sat at a big table without corners and far away on the opposite end sat the
prince and they had big glasses with Evian water and shiny silver cutlery and
nice round plates.
?Yeah.?
Justin looked at the empty plate in front of him and then up to the ceiling.
?Certainly no?no fried bird.?
Brian
didn?t look up from his newspaper, ?Patience, brat,? then raised his voice to
shout towards the kitchen. ?Hey servant, where?s the damn food?! Princess here
is short from starving!?
Emmett
called back cheerily, ?Two more minutes baby, I?m carving the chicken,? before
his tone changed from friendly to accusing as he addressed his boss. ?And call
me servant one more time and I?m insisting on a black suit instead of this
apron, Mister.?
Brian
didn?t respond and Justin wrapped the blond hair strand behind his ear around
his fingers. For three silent minutes. Then a loud rumbling noise was to be
heard and Mister Kinney peered over the top of his newspaper, lifting one
eyebrow. ?Was that your stomach??
Justin
sighed and counted the tasty bunny slices he?d eaten for lunch. ?Five, six,
seven, ei?eight.? He was really very hungry and would?ve preferred to eat the
fried bird now.
?Well
don?t do it again.? Brian disappeared behind his papers again. ?It?s rude.?
?It?s
not!? Emmett scolded laughing as he entered the room, balancing a big tray on
his hand. ?It?s impossible to control the noises your stomach makes.?
?Yeah
thank you, why don?t you tell him it?s okay to burp in public too.? Brian
grumbled and slid deeper in his chair. ?You?ll fuck up his manners.?
Emmett
smiled as he placed a bowl of rice and a carved chicken on the table. ?Well in
China it?s common decency to burp after you enjoyed your meal.?
?They
also eat on the floor like fucking dogs. Doesn?t mean I have to throw out my
table, too.? A bit roughly, Mister Kinney folded up his newspaper and leaned
forwards to put some of the food on his plate. ?Justin, take some chicken. I
thought you were hungry.?
?Yeah.?
Justin blinked and looked at the wall.
?And
you have to try the asparagus, honey, it?s imported from the Netherlands.?
Emmett pointed out and gestured to a platter of vegetables.
Justin
only sighed and didn?t react.
Brian
watched him for a moment while chewing a piece of chicken and leaned then back
in his chair with an evil smile. ?Well servant, obviously Princess
Taylor wants to get served. So do the job I?m paying you for.?
Emmett
lifted up his chin and grabbed a big polished silver spoon. ?You?re not paying
me to serve your guests, but of course-? he smiled at Justin, ?It?s my pleasure
to serve you, baby.?
?Yeah.?
Justin?s gaze remained uninterestedly towards the wall, while the servant put
piles of food on his plate. He was really hungry.
The
doorbell rang, and Brian wiped his mouth with his napkin, got up, ?Give him
some rice too,? and went to answer the door.
He
showed a fake little smile when he opened it. ?And here I was thinking you?re
nailing nurse Schmidt tonight.?
?Hello
Brian.? Ben smiled somewhat seriously in return and gestured inside. ?May I
come in? I wanted to talk to you for a moment, if that?s okay. I know it?s
late.?
Brian
stared at him. ?I have a guest. We just started to eat.?
Ben
nodded and looked at the floor for second. ?I know. Your guest is the reason
I?m here.?
Brian
said nothing, but after a minute, pushed the door fully open and without a
comment went back to sit in his chair, laying the dark napkin out on his lap.
Ben
followed and stopped with a surprised frown, when he saw the blond young man,
sitting at the table.
?Ben!?
Emmett came running and helped the guest out of his coat. ?I didn?t know you
were coming! Please have a seat. I?ll set another place.?
?Thanks,
I-? Ben shook his head, smiling, and got closer to the table. ?Hello Justin. I
can?t believe that you?re?how long have you-?
?Yeah.?
Justin blinked and looked in the other direction. Of course Dr. Pruckner had to
be in the tower and not here in the beautiful castle.
?Ben.?
Brian spoke and shot the other man a gravely look. ?You said you wanted to talk
to me, so sit down and say what you have to. But let Justin finish his meal.?
Ben
drew his lips inwards and after short hesitation sat down.
?Yeah.?
Justin rocked softly back and forth, wrapping a thick blond strand around his
finger. He really would?ve preferred for Dr. Pruckner to not be here at the
wonderful table with all the?
??fried?fried
bird.?
?Justin.?
Brian said firmly.
The
kid didn?t answer.
?Look
at me, Justin.????
?Yeah.?
The boy turned his head after 32 seconds.
Brian
smiled slightly. ?You?re hungry. Eat your chicken.?
?Yes.?
The blue eyes flickered back to the ceiling. ?Eat with?eat with Prian.?
?Yeah
well, then hurry up. You won?t eat all those carbs after seven, will you?? He
forked some chicken and rice between his own lips.
?Yes.?
Justin picked up his fork and ate a piece of chicken.
?Hm.?
Brian looked back at Ben. ?So, what did you want to talk about, Professor.?
Ben
looked back and forth between Brian and Justin, blinked and was obviously in
search for the right words. ?Well, I? I wanted to see Justin tonight, but the
nurses told me he wasn?t in his room. They said he?s out visiting a friend for
the weekend.?
Brian
took a sip of his water, ?That?s right.? and looked over to Justin. ?Quit
counting the damn food. It gets cold.?
?Yes.?
Justin looked uninvolved toward the wall and then ate fifteen more grains of
rice.
Ben
shook his head again in irritation. ?Yeah, I can see that. Now. I mean?? He
laughed a bit and gesticulated to the young blond man. ?Is he always like this?
When he?s with you??
Brian
didn?t look up from his plate. ?Is he always like what??
?Like?like
this. He seems so calm and comfortable. Since when had you-? he gesticulated
again, this time between Brian and Justin. ?Since when are you able to
communicate with him in this way?! Is he always so responsive with you??
Brian
blinked and then faked a smile. ?Yeah well, we?re still working on the trick
where I throw a stick and he has to bring it back and lay it at my feet.?
?Brian,
I?m serious!? Ben stood up. ?I can?t believe you never told me-?
Brian
put his fork noisily aside. ?I?m serious, too. Sit down and let him eat his
meal in peace, or come back tomorrow to continue this conversation.? He stared
at Ben unblinking.
And
Professor Bruckner stared back and eventually nodded. ?How about I leave you
two alone until you?re finished, and in the meantime, I?ll take a tour of your
house. Michael told me you have a wine cellar??
?Hm.
The second door downstairs.?
?Good.?
Ben smiled and left the room.
?Yeah.?
Justin looked up to the ceiling and then back at his plate to eat more fried
bird. ?Fuck?fuck off.?
Brian
ate a spoonful of his rice, watched the boy for a moment in silence and finally
showed a little smile. ?I guess your manners are alright after all.?
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After
dinner the servant had put a huge bowl of peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies
on the Mies van der Rohe coffee table and Justin sat on the floor in front of
the beautiful white couch to watch TV, because he wasn?t allowed to eat
?fucking crumbling cookies with triple fat chocolate? on an Italian designer
sofa that had cost a ?goddamn fucking fortune?.
?Yeah.?
Justin nibbled on cookie number three and nodded towards the grey bunny on the
television screen. ?Certainly fuck...fucking finger?fingerprints. Prian says.?
Stunned,
Ben watched his patient and crossed his arms in front of his chest. ?This is
unbelievable. I?ve tried to talk to him since he became my patient and he
hardly spoke three words, let alone got out of his routine.?
?Yeah.?
Brian sat at his desk, checking his e-mails. ?Fascinating.?
?How?d
you do it?? Ben went a step closer to Justin, squatting down.
?I
didn?t do anything except pay attention,? Brian said, still looking at his
computer screen.
?Justin??
The doctor spoke in friendly voice. ?How do you like the cookies? Emmett made
them for you, hm??
Justin
let out a strained sigh, never taking his eyes off the television.
Ben
tried it again. ?Are they good? They sure look tasty.?
Justin
blinked, rocking slightly in his kneeling position and taking another cookie
into his mouth.
?Justin,
do you think that-? Ben spoke again and was interrupted by Brian?s firm voice.
?Justin,
don?t you think it?s fucking annoying if someone?s blabbering in your ear while
you try to watch a decent TV show?!?
?Yes.?
The boy stared at the screen when Bugs Bunny ran down some dirt road, followed
by a little man in dark green clothes.
Ben
looked at Brian, smirking. ?It was just a question.?
Brian
cleared away a couple of files. ?An unnecessary one.?
Ben
frowned and got up from the floor. ?Oh yes? And why?s that??
?Because
he already answered.?
?No
he didn?t.?
?Yeah
well, there we?re back with the paying attention thing.?
Ben
shook his head. ?Brian, I don?t think you can-?
Loosing
his patience, Brian rose from his chair, slamming some files back on his desk.
?Justin?!?
?Yeah.?
The young man on the floor said in a monotonous voice, his blue eyes following
the actions on the screen.
?How
many cookies did you eat already??
?Yes.?
It took him thirty-five seconds to answer. ?Certainly four.?
?Hmm.
Don?t eat too much, I don?t want you to puke in the fucking bed tonight.?
?Yes.?
?Good.?
Ben
blinked back and forth between the two other men and then stared with a curious
expression at the older one. ?Uh I don?t know what-?
Brian
looked at him. ?You saw him eating four cookies oh brilliant professor, so tell
me why in hell would he eat four of them, eyeing the damn cookie bowl every few
seconds, if he didn?t like them?! He never eats stuff he doesn?t like.?
Ben
blinked again. ?Well I-?
Brian
looked at his messy desk again, shifting some of his pencils from one side to
the other. ?Unnecessary question.?
Ben
stared at the man in silence for a while, then went closer and leant against
the edge of the desk. ?Why are you doing this??
?I
like my stuff organised. And I can?t find my notes for the Collins account.?
Mister Kinney lifted some papers, frowning.
?I
mean, Justin. How come you care about an autistic boy??
Brian
snorted. ?How come Mikey cares about you, Aids-man?!?
?I?m
not-?
Brian
looked up. ?Well, I don?t care about an autistic boy. I care about a young man
who happens to suffer from autism.?
Ben
stared back for a moment at a loss of words and then scratched his forehead.
?I?m sorry, but that?s just not you. It?s so?out of character.? He gesticulated
to Justin. ?He needs special treatment and I really don?t think that you?re
able to understand his situation. The needs that he-?
?You?re
right. I don?t know shit about autism.?
?See?
That?s what I-?
?But
I know, Justin.? Brian looked blankly at the television and then back to Ben.
?Because he wants me to.?
?That?s
what you think. But believe me you don?t really know him.?
Brian
shrugged and went into the kitchen. ?I know the size of his gloves. I know he
hates tuna-sandwiches. I know he?s a fucking genius.? He snorted again and got
two beers out of the fridge. ?I know he likes to be here and hates to go back
in his tower room.?
Ben
followed him and sat at the bar, accepting one of the beers. ?His tower room??
Brian
leant against one of his cupboards, staring at the label on his bottle. ?Yeah.
Where you capture him. Like damn fucking Rapunzel.?
Ben
took a sip of his beer. ?Why do you say that??
?He
told me.?
?He
did? When??
A
barely visible smile wandered over Brian?s lips. ?That?s a question you have to
ask him.?
Ben
didn?t say anything to that, just gazed at Brian and drank his beer, and after
five minutes in silence, a young blond man entered the kitchen with small
steps.
He
padded around undecidedly and finally stopped next to Prian, his eyes towards
the ceiling.
?Are
you finished stuffing your brain with shallow entertainment??
?Yeah.?
He swayed slightly from left to the right and wrapped a thin hair strand around
his finger.
?Thirsty??
Justin?s
eyes flickered for a second, ?Yes.? and then he grabbed for the wonderful green
bottle in Prian?s hands. It looked like the one Little Red Riding Hood had in
the basket.
?It?s
beer.?
?Yeah.?
Justin poked his tongue against the wet bottle opening and didn?t like the
smell of the beer. He looked at the wall uninterestedly. ?Seven?seven-thirty.?
Brian
smirked and took the bottle back. ?You want water??
?Yes.?
Justin smiled pleased. ?Certainly Evian.?
Brian
nodded and turned around to fill a glass.
?He
knows different water brands?? Ben leaned forward, watching as Justin accepted
the full glass greedily, saying a wrongly emphasized ?Thank you? and gulped
away the cooled fluid.
?Yes.
Amazing isn?t it?? Brian smiled artificially. ?And he also has two ears and a
mouth, so you don?t have to ask me about things you wanna know from him.?
Ben
grinned and then addressed his patient in a friendly way. ?You want to talk to
me for a while, Justin??
Justin
emptied the glass, sighed loudly and handed it back to Prian. ?No.?
Ben
frowned. ?No? You don?t want to talk to me??
?Yeah.?
Justin left the kitchen with small steps. ?Of ?of course not.?
Ben
blinked after the boy speechless and Brian smiled against the brim of his
bottle.
?Told
you so.?
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-------------------
Professor
Ben Bruckner insisted on a meeting next Wednesday afternoon, to discuss the
situation further and promised to bring some books and informative material
about autism.
Brian
said he couldn?t wait, presented a big, fake, farewell smile and slammed the
door shut at 7.30 pm. ?I fucking hate unannounced visitors. Especially the
boring ones.?
?Yeah.
Certainly back?back into the tower.? Justin sounded relieved. He preferred for
Dr. Pruckner to not be in the beautiful castle and talk to the prince all the
time.
?Yeah.?
Brian agreed and laid an arm around the boy?s shoulders. ?You were fucking
rude. Remind me to invite you over the next time my mother comes to visit.?
?Yes.?
?Hmm.
You want to go to bed now??
?Yes.
Sleep with Prian.?
?You
have your own bed.?
?Yes.
Take a?take shower with Prian.?
?You
can shower alone, you know??
He could? Yes, but he wanted to take a shower ?
??with
Prian.?
Brian
watched the boy from the side and pressed a little kiss on his temple after a
moment. ?You want to??
Justin
rubbed his hair against the prince?s cheek. ?Yes. Certainly in?in the
rainwater.? He smiled. He liked to dance with Prian.
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------------------
??
At
8.30 pm, Justin hadn?t seen the Good Night Greeting on channel 4, but he
smelled of wonderful prince foam soap and his hair was wet and he kneeled on
the mattress of the huge prince bed and it was warm and like wind and storm.
?Yeah.?
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, when Prian combed his long fingers through
the wet hair strands at the back of his head. Of course the wind was?
??very
loud.?
?What??
Brian clicked the hairdryer off and leaned over Justin?s shoulder.
?Yes.?
Justin blinked his still damp lashes. ?Certainly the storm.? It was very hot
too.
?Yeah
well, you won?t ruin my $350 Danish down-filled pillow with your wet hair.? He
clicked the dryer back on. ?So stop being a fucking princess.?
?Yes.?
Justin ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut again. He liked Prian?s
pillows. They smelled like prince hair and red towels.
Brian
stood on bare feet with a towel around his waist in front of his bed; Justin?s
bare back touching his terrycloth covered thighs. He hated blow-drying hair and
almost never did it himself. But it was late and the boy couldn?t go to sleep
with his wet head.
He
straightened a thick dark blond strand between his middle and forefinger,
pulling it out to its full length. It was long. A little over chin length.
?When
was the last time you had your hair cut?? He asked loudly.
?Yeah.?
Justin said back, trying to raise his voice too, but sounding really stressed.
?January?January the fourth.? In Harrisburg. He had screamed and kicked nurse
Emma?s shin. Nurse Emma had screamed a little too.
?That?s
almost a year.? Brian said, tousling the wet strands under the hot air. ?You
want to cut it again? Get a nice haircut??
?No!?
Justin giggled and pulled his shoulder up when his left ear got too hot. Of
course the prince made jokes with him and was a little stupid. He couldn?t cut his
beautiful long princess hair, it was almost Christmas.
Brian
smiled slightly but didn?t notice. ?You like your hair this way??
Did he? Yes, it was almost long enough to reach the ground beneath his tower
window.
?Hmm.?
Brian brushed his fingers slowly through the thick hairs, watching as it grew
brighter in the warmth of the hairdryer. ?It?s not too bad. I guess you can
leave it like that for a few more weeks.?
?Yes.?
?But
cut it before next summer or the morons over at the institution will accidently
get you a bikini instead of bathing trunks.?
?Yes.?
Justin looked back up at the prince, smiling brightly. ?For Justin Taylor.? He
would?ve preferred to have a blue swim suit. Blue like the water in the well.
?Hm.?
Brian didn?t return the smile and made a mental note to buy the kid a pair of
fucking bathing trunks, because he couldn?t picture Theodore Schmidt on
shopping trip for his blond patient.???
Justin?s
smile ebbed away slowly but his gaze remained upwards. He liked the feeling of
Prian?s large hands as they brushed his hair off of his forehead again and
again under the hot storm-air.
Brian
looked down at a pale face, his fingers stilling in the blond bangs. And he
furrowed his brows and really tried to see it. This autism-thing that was somewhere
inside there. Tried to see it in the blue eyes or in the way Justin?s lips
moved while he counted soundless random numbers. And maybe he did. Maybe he
could see it. But he liked what he saw. He liked the little flicker in Justin?s
blank gaze, when he rubbed his thumb over the boy?s temple. He liked the slight
sigh, coming out between soft lips, when Justin got confused with his numbers.
He liked the way Justin?s head nestled willingly into his touch. He liked?
Justin. With autism. He couldn?t imagine him without it, even though he wasn?t
sure what parts of Justin the autistic ones were. And he studied the pale face
a moment longer and decided, he wouldn?t change a thing. Justin wasn?t flawed.
He was misunderstood and badly treated. He was restricted. Not through autism,
but in the opportunities he was given. Justin was trapped. And the boy knew it
full well.???
And
Brian clicked off the forgotten hairdryer and bent down to kiss blond hair that
was almost dry and had grown uncontrollable but wasn?t really too long. Brian
liked it. On Justin. And he slipped a hand on the back of Justin?s head for
support and kissed the smooth, dry lips before whispering against them.
?Brat.?
?Yes.?
Justin said back and touched his sweet tongue to Prian?s mouth. ?My?my prince.?
He liked Prian Kinney so much.
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-------------------
Thirteen
minutes later, Justin was in the beautiful room with the blue carpet again, and
sat in the big bed with his Gameboy but without the prince.
?Yes.?
Justin looked up from the little screen and blinked towards the closed door.
?Certainly sleeps ?sleeps with Prian.? He really would?ve preferred to be in
the prince?s bed with the blue lights and the money treasure in the night stand.
?Yes.? His little console in hand, he crawled out from under the covers and off
the mattress. ?Of course forty?forty-three.? With naked feet and small steps he
padded over the soft carpet and after 52 seconds out of the room and into the
dark corridor. ?Yeah.? He stood still for a moment, gazing at the dark-grey
ceiling and then at his little bright screen. He started to press the black
buttons on the side, his eyes fixing on the question asked in his game. ?Yes,
of course five?five squares.? The little man congratulated him on the right
result and Justin nodded and plodded along the dark corridor, his gaze
remaining on the screen. Blindly he stopped in front of Prian?s bedroom and
pushed the door open, still tipping with his thumbs on his handheld console.??
Absorbed
in his article, Brian peered over the top of his Vanity Fair. ?What?? He looked
at Justin, waiting for a response, but the boy only entered the room silently
and padded towards the bed, never taking his eyes from his game.
?Justin.?
Brian put his magazine down when Justin crawled onto the mattress on the other
side of the bed. ?What are you doing? I said you have to sleep in your own
room.?
?Hff.?
Justin huffed annoyed as he kneeled on the soft, big prince bed. The little man
wanted to know how many apples were left in the bowl when the cook took
thirteen out for his apple pie and needed nine more to decorate the table.
?Yeah.? He looked up to the ceiling and wrote then a crooked 11 on the screen.
?Certainly poisoned.? He really didn?t like apples.
?Get.
Out.? Brian spoke slowly and pointed to the door.
?Yeah.?
Justin rubbed his forehead. The man wanted him to draw the shape of Africa. ?Of
course?of course the lions.? He?d seen the big lions on the TV last year in
Harrisburg. Their growling was pretty loud and they looked like the big bad
wolf. He rocked a bit on his knees. He wasn?t sure if he liked lions.
?Yeah?certainly bites?bites Justin Taylor.?
?No,
but I?ll rip you a new one if you don?t get out of my fucking bed.? Brian said
it without sounding angry and disappeared behind his magazine again. ?Twat.?
?Yes.?
Justin looked nervously up at the ceiling when the little man asked him again
to draw the right shape. He would?ve preferred to?
??not
draw the bad?bad lion.? Its teeth were certainly very big.
?What
lion?? The older one asked with his eyes on the ?Justin Timberlake alone under
the Christmas tree? article.
?Yeah.
In Africa.?
?What
about it?? Brian shook his head and turned to the next page. Who cared about
fucking straight VIP dramas...
?Yes.?
The little man asked a third time and Justin sighed stressed and started to
wrap a thick hair strand around his finger.
Brian
looked over at the kid, stared at him for a second and then held his hand out.
?Let me take a look.?
?Yes.?
Justin handed the little console to the prince. ?My?my Prian.?
Brian
took the game, read the question on the screen, ?Hmm,? and drew the requested
shape with the little touch pen. ?You know maps? From America or the world??
Did he? Justin wasn?t sure and decided he wouldn?t eat asparagus again. It
wasn?t very good.
?Well,?
Brian gave the console back, ?sometimes you should read other things than your
fairy tales, you know? Something about history or politics.?
?Yes.?
Justin marked all words with three syllables on the left screen.
?Certainly?certainly the star?star talers.?
Brian
read his magazine again. ?Hm. That?s a fairy tale too.?
?Yes.
Of course Tom Thumb.?
?No.?
?Yes.
The brave?brave little Taylor.? Justin smiled slightly. He liked that one especially.
Brian
blinked at the boy from the side. ?You know full well it means the guy who sews
clothes.?
?Yes.?
?A
tailor.?
?Yes.?
?Not
like your last name.?
?Yeah.?
Justin looked up to the ceiling. ?Justin?Justin Taylor.?
?But
the tale is called The brave little tailor.?
?Yeah.
Justin.?
?You?re
brave??
Brian
received no answer to his question and after one silent minute extended his
hand to take the small console out of the boy?s fingers. He shut it and put it
on the nightstand. ?Come here.? He said it quietly and laid back with one arm
stretched to the side.
And
Justin remained in his kneeling position, and just bent forwards to nestle his
blond head in the crook of Prian?s neck.
Brian
held him like this, ?Hmm,? staring to the ceiling while his fingertips ran
slowly through Justin?s hair. ?Yeah, you?re pretty brave actually.?
Justin
rubbed his nose against the prince?s warm skin. ?Yeah.? He sighed. He would?ve
preferred to sleep here, so close to the beautiful prince, for ever and ever
and a hundred years.??
?Yeah.?
Brian closed his eyes and planted a light kiss above the kid?s ear. ?My brave
boy.?
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