4. Chapter 4
Chapter four
A sh set the table, distracted by the age of the cutlery. Willow was still using the same knives and forks they’d used as kids. Although there were scratches and the flower embossed on the handles was worn, the cutlery was still very usable. It was incredible really.
Ash lost himself in memory, thinking of all the meals these forks had seen. How many steaks, chicken pieces, potatoes and parsnips these knives had cut into. It was a weird nostalgia, making him acutely aware of time passing, and how much he had missed while being away.
Ash reminded himself he had to visit his father. The hole in his chest yawned open.
He was a terrible son. Going away for so long. He’d sent money back, at least, when he’d had big sponsorship deals, and he’d taken on some extra ones, when his dad was being moved into the home. He’d told himself it was enough, but now? It felt like nothing at all.
He looked over at Willow, visible in the kitchen, cooking. How many of the lines on her face were because Ash hadn’t been there to help? How had she suffered, shouldering it all alone?
He’d been reluctant to come home because of these very fears.
He took a deep breath, preparing himself to go into the kitchen and properly apologise.
A thumping noise reminded Ash he wasn’t alone in the house with his sister. Hallow skipped down the stairs lightly, dressed in a shirt Ash recognised as one of his old ones from when he was a teenager.
His pink hair looked soft as candy floss, and his face lit up when he saw Ash. “Is it dinner time? I’m famished.”
“You’re wearing my high school production shirt.”
Hallow stopped in front of Ash and grinned up at him. “What’s that mean?”
Ash tugged on the sleeve, rubbing the worn, soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “Uh, at our school we all put on a very big play? This one was Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing . It’s a comedy, I was a minor part.”
Willow walked in, carrying a large platter of steamed vegetables. “You were essential to the show. Don’t lie to our guest.”
“I wasn’t essential.” Ash shook his head. “I was a bit part that has some jokes.”
“Brought the house down. He could have been a lead in his final year, but he got shy and switched to backstage.”
Hallow looked between them, head swivelling as if he was watching a tennis match. He then fixed his gaze on Ash. “Why didn’t you take a lead?”
“I … wanted to focus on my studies.” Ash realised he had moved even closer to Hallow and was touching him when he probably wasn’t supposed to be. He stepped back, crashed into one of the dining chairs and had to right himself.
“I told you, he got shy.” Willow rolled her eyes. “Like right now. Help me carry the rest of the food in?”
Hallow, whose eyes had gone wide as Ash flailed with the chair, nodded and skipped past. Ash took a moment to breathe, turned to go into the kitchen, but Hallow came out balancing a salad bowl, a platter of meat and a breadboard with a loaf on it on his arms, walking as gracefully as a ballet dancer. Not a single item wobbled.
“Impressive. You must have been a waiter.” Willow followed, carrying a small dish of butter.
“What’s a waiter?”
They sat down to eat. Willow’s head tilted to one side. “How can someone not know what a waiter is?”
“English isn’t his first language.” Ash gave Hallow an apologetic smile. “So there’s some things he won’t be familiar with. A waiter brings you your food in a restaurant.”
Hallow nodded.
“Help yourself, guests first.” Willow handed Hallow the tongs to help himself to the dishes.
“This smells incredible,” Hallow said. “The cook has harnessed the spirits of the forest to make a perfect meal.”
Ash blinked.
“Maybe someday soon you could make us something from your culture, Hal?” Willow’s smile faded. “Which is, I’m sorry, I don’t think Ash told me where you’re from?”
Ash looked at Hallow and panicked. His eyes were single-lidded which would translate to an Asian country and he did look sort of K-Pop-ish with his pink hair. “He’s from South Korea.”
Hallow’s eyes widened and he nodded, his face going completely blank in a way that made it clear he was lying. “Yes. I’m from South Korea.”
“Oh my god, I LOVE Korean food! There’s this all-you-can-eat barbeque place in town I go to at least once a month.”
Ash felt his cheeks warm. “Well, Hal is from a small town, the food’s probably different there.”
“Yes.” Hal nodded solemnly and handed the tongs to Ash. “Our village is different.”
Willow blinked, looked between them and made a ‘huh!’ noise. “Cool. I’m open to whatever.”
“I’d be happy to cook for you.” Hallow’s expression brightened again. “Although I’m not very good, I really only know a handful of dishes.”
“That’s probably more than Ash can make.” Willow helped herself to the salad as Ash took some food onto his plate.
“Rude, I can cook lots of things.”
Willow leaned closer to Hallow. “He’s trying to impress you. He can make two pasta dishes and cheese on toast.”
Hallow giggled. A sound that went right into Ash’s empty chest and nestled there like a mouse, warming a tiny bit of him.
“Okay, I used to be like that, but it might surprise you to hear I’ve learned a lot since then. I’ve been travelling, I made sushi! I cook ramen, I can do all kinds of things.”
Willow chewed a piece of carrot and shook her head. “Cooking instant cup ramen isn’t cooking. And besides, I bet most of the places you stayed didn’t have a full kitchen, so when you say cooking do you mean toast? Reheating premade meals from the supermarket?”
Ash flushed, she’d caught him out. “I… well… often there was a kitchenette? Or a shared kitchen space…”
Hallow and Willow both burst into gales of laughter.
Ash scrubbed his face with one hand. “At least my pasta is really tasty.” Willow caught her breath and flapped a hand. “I’m just teasing, Ashy. Of course it’s tasty.”
Ash huffed and concentrated on the food on his plate. He felt useless. Here he was, a grown man, who could truly only cook a handful of dishes. He wasn’t even confident he could make sushi from scratch. The times he’d made was under the tutelage of various Japanese backpackers and homestay hosts, and they’d shown him every step of it.
Under the table, Hallow rubbed his foot against Ash’s leg. Ash looked up and Hallow’s eyes were on him, warm and liquid. He gave him a reassuring smile. The tiny warm thing in Ash’s chest got bigger.
Hallow and Willow clicked instantly. Hallow asked her about her work, and her life, and before Ash could process how, Willow was making a list of movies for the two of them to watch together. Ash cleaned up after dinner while Willow dragged Hallow into the living room to show him a selection of videos on YouTube he just had to see.
Ash was, content to be left out of the conversation. His body felt strange, too large, but too small for the whirlwind of emotions inside him. He felt such affection for Hallow it scared him, given how little they knew each other. What was he supposed to do with the way Hallow’s laugh, and kind eyes warmed the gaping hole in his chest? He didn’t want to get attached, and then have Hallow leave.
He washed the dishes and stared out the kitchen window.
A flash of movement caught his eye, out in the backyard. When he tried to focus on it, there was nothing there.
In his chest, a surge of nothingness flickered, as if something outside had pulled, revealing the void in his chest… But this was the real world and not the dreamscape Hallow said was real.
Did he doubt it? Hard not to, but he also couldn’t deny Hallow wasn’t of this world.
Ash leaned closer to the window, peering out into the darkness. Nothing moved. Unsettled, he flicked the light off in the kitchen and looked out again. Nothing there.
He went to join the others, relaxing into normal life for a moment. The YouTube clips on the TV did not hold his attention. Ash redirected his gaze to the framed Monet print that had hung in the same spot on the wall his entire life, one of a haystack in the fading summer light. He’d often stared at the colours, trying to understand how the purples and greens worked together so well. His father told him Monet had a magic way with paint.
He needed to see his father.
He had to apologise, explain where he’d been all this time and why.
He needed to make something of his life. Write the book he’d thought about, or else get a proper job.
But… Ash glanced at the pink haired man sitting on the other end of the sofa, and felt the warmth envelop him, banishing the emptiness. For tonight, he could sit and watch Hallow, and accept the truth. No matter how unbelievable it was, they were here together. Magic was real. There were other worlds. He didn’t have to solve anything, just sit with the knowledge and let it seep in.