Chapter 6: YEONG-SOO
It's a little after 7 o'clock, and for our evening's entertainment Caleb is leading me out to the barn. I can't imagine what he has in store, but I trust him. In one day we've already had ice skating, a snowball fight, and made a snowman (along with providing cleaning services to a farm's worth of sheep!), so anything else would just be icing on the cake.
But honestly, I don't need to be entertained when I'm with Caleb. We could just be sitting around doing nothing, watching paint dry, and I would still be enjoying myself. The whole day flew by, and even chores that should have been tedious, like shovelling snow, were fun with Caleb at my side. It seems like with every minute that goes by, my feelings for him grow deeper and deeper...
I pull myself up short, like I've done a hundred times already today, and clutch the small black velvet box I've put in my pants pocket. This morning when I woke up I only remembered a part of my drunken ramblings from last night, but that was enough to make me blush and slap my palm against my forehead repeatedly, chastisting myself for being an idiot and letting my guard slip. I hoped Caleb wasn't able to pick up on much of what I'd said, but either way I knew that whatever feelings I may have revealed or whatever false hope I may have given him yesterday, I had to make it clear that we were only ever going to be friends at most. I had put the box with the engagement ring in my pants pocket as a reminder of my resolve.
Keeping distant was far easier said than done, and every physical detail of that damn engagement ring box has been imprinted in my hand by now from holding it practically all day. The ring has completely failed in its purpose, though. It was supposed to be a talisman, to protect me from my growing infatuation with Caleb, but it was a day of losing myself in the moment whenever I was with Caleb, and then grasping desperately at that ring box for strength whenever I had a moment to myself. But what did I expect? How could a little flimsy piece of cold and lifeless metal and gemstones (even one custom designed and worth more than 500 million won) compete against Caleb, a man made of flesh and blood, with his slow smile, his gentle low laugh, those gorgeous gray eyes, full of warmth and intelligence and good humor and kindness... Not to mention that beard, those broad shoulders, those strong arms...
At that thought I glance over at Caleb as we walk, because just like the rest of today, my eyes get pulled towards him just as constantly as my thoughts do. His eyes meet mine and we smile together before I even have a chance to think about it. Feeling like I should distract myself from how much I just want to keep looking at him, I turn my eyes to the quiet snowy evening landscape.
"It's so beautiful," I say, pausing to look around at the distant barns and the trees and back at the house, all still frosted with snow, like a fairy tale wonderland. "It's so peaceful here."
Caleb stops with me and follows my gaze to look out at the scenery. He nods but doesn't say anything, and I notice that Caleb has gone quiet and seems lost in his thoughts again, like when we were driving back from the cemetery yesterday, or last night when he was putting up the Christmas decorations. There were several similar times today, too, times where I don't think he'd even realized he'd gone silent. Surely, it couldn't be because of me, could it? But I remembered he was acting like that even before dinner yesterday, and he barely even knew me then.
I'd let those moments pass before, but Caleb isn't a stranger anymore, and seeing him in any sort of discomfort distresses me, probably more than it should. In case I'd been unintentionally insensitive, I try to offer up an apology.
"Sorry," I say hesitantly. "To me this is all new, like a vacation, but it must not be anything special to you."
Caleb turns his eyes back to me. "No, it's fine," he says, and there's some sadness in his smile. He looks back at the scenery with a little sigh. "It is peaceful," he agrees, "but..." He pauses for a long time, and we both stand side by side looking out at the stillness. Finally he breaks the silence. "It can get kind of lonely," he says quietly, almost as if he's hoping I won't hear him.
I shoot a quick glance at Caleb's direction, but he seems to be purposely avoiding my gaze. I want to study his face, his expression, try to decode his words to see if they have a deeper meaning, hoping with a competely irrational hope that they do, but also knowing that I should be hoping they don't. But I try to respect his privacy and turn back to the landscape.
I pause to think of the right words to say, something that might provide some small degree of comfort. "It can get lonely in a busy city too," I offer up finally. And if there was a deeper meaning in his words, I guess there could be a deeper meaning in mine too.
Caleb is still avoiding my eyes and I'm starting to feel the cold, even with Caleb's winter coat on, and I'm feeling a little restless and unsatisfied at things unsaid or hoped for, so I resume walking, and Caleb follows half a step behind.
When we get to the barn Caleb regains his appearance of cheerfulness, and he steers us up a ladder to a loft above where the sheep pens are. The barn is dimly lit and surprisingly warm and snug, especially in the loft, which is even darker and full of bales of hay and piles of wood chips and such.
"Is that a telescope?" I ask, noticing an object tucked away in one corner.
"You don't miss a beat, do you?" Caleb says, smiling and shaking his head.
"Sorry, I'm just nosy," I say laughing in return.
Caleb sits down on the floor next to the telescope and gestures for me to sit down next to him. He points out the window nearby, up at the night sky.
"No moon tonight, and no clouds either. Perfect for stargazing," he says. "You definitely don't get to see stars in a city. What do you think? Want to take a look?"
"Yeah, okay. Sounds fun."
Caleb fiddles with some settings on the telescope, looks into it, and then motions for me to take a look. He points out the brightest star, called Sirius, the Dog Star, which follows Orion, the hunter. Then he shows me Polaris, the North Star, which points north and which he says you can use for navigation if you're lost. That's apparently part of the Little Dipper, and then there's the Big Dipper, and then he points out Cepheus (named after a Greek king from mythology), his wife, Cassiopeia, and Draco, a dragon.
The Little Dipper and the Big Dipper were the only constellations I'd already known about, and their names make sense since they do look like ladles, and Draco does look like it has a head and a snake-like body. But I definitely have to argue with Caleb about Orion, which just kind of looks like a question mark to me, at best, although I could kind of see how those three stars in the middle line up like a belt. Cepheus just looks like a kid's drawing of a house, and Cassiopeia looks like a "W". The spark in Caleb's eyes as he talks reveals his passion for his hobby. He stoutly defends the ancient Greek and Romans' imaginations, explains the myths like a master ancient storyteller, rattles off scientific jargon like "luminosity" and "photometry", and spouts lists of distances in light years like a walking Wikipedia article. Seeing this new geeky side of him fascinates me... and I hate to admit it, but I'm finding it so, so sexy.
Up in that barn loft, Caleb's words, his stories and factoids, his joking and witty responses to my questions, his own interested questions about what my reactions are, they all join together, flowing on the current of that bewitchingly smooth and calming voice, they combine to weave a spell over me. With our heads bent together in the darkness and speaking in hushed voices, it's like we're cocooned in our own private world, just us and the vastness of space, and I feel closer to Caleb than ever, every cell in my body aware of his physical closeness, the smell of his soap and aftershave, the sound of his gentle breathing as he watches me look through the telescope, his voice low and calm as he explains the sights but with a throbbing note of intensity to it.
Once again we lose track of the time, but at one point I have to sit back and just stare at Caleb in wonder while he's in the midst of one of his explanations.
"What?" he asks, suddenly self-conscious. He had been almost literaly glowing in the dim light of the loft, wholly animated with sharing his enthusiasm, but he tamps a lid down on it. "Sorry, I must be rambling..."
"No, no, no," I say quick to reassure him. "It's great. I'm just amazed at how much you know about all of this."
"Oh," Caleb says, as if just realizing how unusual his extensive knowledge is. "It's just a hobby. I got really into it in high school. I'd actually forgotten about it until I was thinking about how stargazing and hockey were the two things I spent all my time on back then," he explains.
"I used to write stories in high school," I confess to him on a whim in response.
"Yeah? You'll have to let me read them sometime," Caleb says without thinking, and then blushes that cute blush of his.
"Really? You'd want to? I thought some of them were pretty good at the time, although they're probably actually terrible. I probably still have them somewhere."
"I'm sure they're great," he says smiling. "So," he begins, and then pauses slightly. "You liked writing? You didn't always want to be an actor?"
