The man who only loved himself

1

He opened up his eyes, laying on the brass bed as the sun only began to show up from behind the curtains. It was the first time in the past two weeks that he had a good night’s sleep and it seemed just right to lay some more and enjoy the nothingness of the morning. Ryan had not once dreamed of white bedsheets or fruity oats for breakfast, but this morning was different. A delicious smell came from above the steps and he could hear voices in the nearby barn. They were voices of animals, busy to grasp the fresh air and have their food share. He has long waited for a morning like this, but started to miss the intimacy of the forest, the loneliness of the silence. Bending his arm over the windowsill, Ryan cracked the window just a bit. Now he could feel the breeze strolling down his face – at least this bit of the past remained here with him.

            Five breaths later, a young girl’s voice could be heard from behind the door:

-          Eight o’clock, one hard knock. Five past eight, and you’re late.

Ryan thought to himself:

-          Late for what?

Being among people made him feel like an alien yet again. He still had to relearn what people expected of him. So he got up, put on his old trousers and the yellow sweater the hosts gave him the previous night, thinking about his first day of school, twenty six years ago. Oddly enough, he still felt like a six year old in front of the world, except this time, no one was holding his hand. Ryan climbed the steps and found himself out, where a pot of water and a towel were already expecting him on an old little chair. He then pursued to washing off his last shades of sleep and went to the kitchen, were all the family was to gather.

-          Good morning, Mrs. Broot.

-          Good morning, Ryan. How was your sleep?

-          It was the best I had in a while. Thank you very much!

-          That is just great! I hope you’re hungry, mister, because I’ve been up since six this morning, cooking for the boys. You know, it’s a pretty important day for them. They get to go to the bank and receive the money from the grant.

-          Oh, right, the jar business …

-          Yes, indeed, you remember! What an attentive young man! Come here, have a sit. Everybody will be down in a minute.

-          Thank you, Mrs. Broot, I would rather wait.

Ryan still felt clumsy and shy, but could not understand the openness this woman seemed to ooze with.

-          Oh, look, you won’t even have to wait! Denis, Jerry, Annie, Richie! Say ‘Good morning’ to Ryan here!

-          Good morning, Ryan! – shouted all the four of them, reminding Ryan of the characters from a bad cartoon he used to watch when he was little.

-          Good morning to you all!

-          You look way better than last night, I bet it’s the air, it’s so good for you!, Richard said putting his arm around Ryan’s shoulders in a fatherly manner.

-          Yes, sir, the air is quite brisk this time of the year and especially here on your farm!

-          I am glad you enjoy it, son! Now let’s get to breakfast. What have you prepared for us, Mrs. Broot?, said Richard with a teasing voice.

-          Oh stop it, Richie, the children are here!

Ryan suddenly went back in time again. He remembered how his parents were teasing each other during morning time throughout the course of his first school years. His father used to drink at night and wake up only when he left for school. He never knew why that was so, since the other kids at school always complained they never even saw their dads. He felt so special, to have had a dad who was always there in the morning. He thought his dad was the best and he believed he would always stay the same. What a disappointment that was going to turn into later on.