Silver was a slave. When he was less than 12 years old, he was kidnapped, tortured and 'conditioned' to be the perfect plaything. What he doesn't know about bringing pleasure isn't worth knowing, but he knows nothing about being free. Since being saved and falling in love, Silver has a lot to learn and it's hard. All he knows is how to obey. Where once he was terrified of the world and everything in it, now he's beginning to see a life beyond his front door, but it's small steps.
Writing Silver was one of the most rewarding things I have ever done. Seeing the world through eyes that can't remember ever having seen it before was so refreshing, so thought provoking. I've jotted down some of the thoughts it provoked in a series of stories about Silver's First Christmas, and I'm going to share them with you over the next two weeks. I hope you enjoy.
If you do, check out Silver's journey to get to this point in the Enigma series.
I don’t
understand Christmas. River has tried to explain many times but gets frustrated.
I think this is because he doesn’t understand it himself.
The Nativity
is very confusing. There are pictures and little models everywhere of a baby,
with animals and angels and men dressed in bright clothes, with gifts in their
hands. River has tried to explain what it means and it’s a pretty story but he
seems to think it’s real. Lots of people do.
I find
religion confusing. There are too many questions with no answers. When I get to
a hard one, people say things like ‘It’s in the Bible’, or ‘You just have to
have faith’. I’ve read the Bible, but it’s a horrible book. They kill babies
and destroy whole civilisations because God tells them to. God seems to be
cruel and harsh and the whole situation reminds me a lot of when I was a slave.
You obey your Master in all things, no matter what you might think of them, and
if you don’t you’re horribly punished. To me, faith is fear - you have to do it
even if you don’t want to because if you don’t something bad will happen.
As far as I
have discovered, most religions are the same. You must accept things are true
when they can’t be true. It’s the ‘must’ that scares me. I have a lot of
trouble with ‘must’. There’s still such a strong compulsion to obey
unquestioningly that I need to remind myself I have a choice. And that’s
another thing that scares me; having to make that choice.
River and I
talked about this one day. It was a time when I was reading about religion a
lot. I got upset because I was torn in different directions. I knew in my heart it was wrong but the
compulsion was so strong I couldn’t let it go. I read all the ‘Holy Books’ and
went to different churches, trying to find a way I could comply with all the
commands but not compromise my heart. It was a horrible time and I’m still not
easy with the whole thing, which is why Christmas scares me so much.
I’m trying
very hard to listen to my inner voice, as River taught me, but it’s not easy,
especially when the world is full of commands I have to struggle with every
day. What do you want is a hard one and I get asked that a lot. Even
River asks me, and I try my best to listen to my inner voice, but most the time
I just say what I think he wants because it hurts me to make decisions like
that.
Then there is
the whole thing about Father Christmas. I see him everywhere; a big fat man
with a beard, dressed in red. He’s supposed to come down the chimney on
Christmas Eve and leave presents underneath a tree that grows inside. I can’t
see how a man that big can come down a chimney, or how he could give presents
to everyone in one night. At first, River told me it was ‘magic’ and that
worried me a lot because I was being told to ‘believe’ again and I was torn
between the compulsion and the inability to comply.
When I told
River I was having a hard time, he admitted none of it was true. It was just a
story, but not like the Nativity. People truly believe the Nativity is true,
but no one except children believe in Santa. Parents tell their children the
story about Father Christmas is true, even though they know it isn’t. I tried
to tell River it’s wrong to lie to children but he said it was an okay lie and
warned me that if I told anyone’s children Father Christmas doesn’t exist I’d
get into trouble. Thank goodness Ben is old enough to not believe the stories
anymore.
Not everything
about Christmas is hard, though. The lights are pretty. Lots of people have
them in their windows and on the outside of their houses. Some of the houses in
the streets with front gardens have lit up reindeer, or moving Father
Christmases, and there’s lots of snow everywhere.
I love snow.
It makes me feel shivery inside, but not in a cold way. I was so excited the first
time I saw snow. I danced in the garden and felt so light, as if the snow swirled
me up and made everything new. Of course, it doesn’t because when the snow
melts everything underneath is still the same, only muddier, but for a while
the world sparkles and is still and silent. I like that. I like it a lot.
In the art
shop where I work. they have all kinds of ‘seasonal displays’ which can mean
two things. First, are the things that are decorated to be Christmassy—sparkly
and glittery, or with Father Christmas and elves. Apparently red and green are
Christmas colours as well as sparkle. I’m not sure why. Second, are the things
Rusty, the manager, hopes people will buy for Christmas presents. For example,
we stock craft kits and Rusty ordered in lots of Christmas related things, like
little houses and snowflakes. I made River get some and we did them with Ben.
It was a lot of fun.
We each have
our own decoration hanging on the Christmas Tree. Ben’s is all black with
silver squiggles. River’s is red and green with real holly stuck on it and mine
is frosty silver with snowflakes. Did you know that no two snowflakes are the
same? So many of them fall and they all look the same, just soft white feathers
falling from the sky, but they’re not the same, not at all.
I made another
tree decoration as a surprise. I worked on it at the shop. It has miniatures of
Ben and River on it; Ben on one side and River on the other. It was a surprise.
They were very excited.
We also made a
snow scene for the window. I don’t know why people do that, and neither does
River, not really, but they’re so pretty we did it anyway. I brought some kits
home from the shop to do the tiny houses, and some fake snow that came in a
glass tube and got bigger and bigger when we put water on it. Ben painted
glitter on the roofs and some of the snow to make it look like real snow when
it catches the light. River and I made tiny trees and roads and a river and…
well, let’s be honest, I did it. River was supposed to be helping but he just
sat and looked at me most of the time. I like it when River looks at me with
that dreamy expression on his face. It makes me feel warm inside.
All in all,
Christmas is quite a stressful time. River has been running around like a crazy
man and getting cross all the time. I hope it will get better when Christmas is
over.
My favourite
parts were getting the tree—it makes the house smell so lovely—and, of course,
the presents. I don’t have much money but I had so much fun shopping. Ariel
came with me and I laughed the whole time. Ariel’s like that. He makes me laugh
no matter what and I can’t be scared when he’s around. It’s not that I’m scared
of being out in the world anymore. Well… Actually, I am still scared but I can
control it now. I’ve told River I’m not and that’s the closest I get to lying
to him. If I told him the truth he’d worry, and he’d get protective. My
independence is too important to jeopardise by confessing how hard it is to
maintain.
Today, is Christmas
Eve. The whole house is glittering with lights and decorations, the presents
are wrapped and under the tree and there’s a saucepan of mulled wine keeping
warm on the stove for when Ben goes to bed. He’s pushing things with River.
It’s already an hour past his bedtime and River’s getting impatient for our
time. They’re squabbling. I’ll go over in a minute and sort it out. Ben always
listens to me. I don’t know why, but he never argues with me like he does with
River. I guess it’s because they’re brothers and I’m not.
It’s snowing.
The white flakes are soft and silent. I like to follow them down from the sky
to the ground. They’re not like rain. Rain is fast and makes a lot of noise, at
least when it’s this heavy. Snow doesn’t make any sound at all. In fact, it
seems to suck all the sound out of the rest of the world. It makes everything
soft, white and silent. Oh boy do I love snow.
“Watcha
looking at?”
I can’t
believe I got so caught up with the snow I didn’t even notice Ben going to bed.
“Snow.”
“I thought so.
That’s what I told Ben.”
“Ben?”
“He wanted to
say goodnight, but you looked so beautiful with that misty expressions on your
face, we decided we’d let you stay there for a while.”
“You should
have called me, River. You know Ben likes to say goodnight to me. I wouldn’t
have minded.”
“You were far
away, darling.”
“Not that
far.”
“Far enough to
not notice that I’ve been sitting here for almost five minutes since Ben went
to bed, watching you.”
“Really?”
“Do you have
any idea how beautiful you are when you’re dreaming?”
“I don’t, but
you keep telling me, and I trust you so I guess I have to believe you.”
I turn in
River’s arms and look down at him. He hates that he’s shorter than I am. I like
it. It means he can tuck himself into my chest and I can put my arms around him
and feel protective. River protects me so much, sometimes it’s nice to pretend
I’m protecting him.
River’s eyes
are shining and he raises his head to kiss me. River’s kisses are wonderful.
They’re not slick and accomplished like many I’ve had, but they’re full of love
and very, very sweet.
“I’ve got
something for you,” River says in a husky voice. “A very special Christmas
Present.”
“You have?
Where is it? Can I have it now?”
“Yes, you can
have it now. I want to give it to you when it’s quiet, just the two of us.
Tomorrow is all about Ben, but tonight is just about us.”
“I have
something special for you, too. I was going to give it to you with all the
others tomorrow but I’ll give it to you tonight. It won’t be fair if I have one
and you don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll
get mine and you get yours. Meet me in front of the fire with glasses of mulled
wine in five minutes.”
A thrill of
excitement shoots through me. I love surprises and this one sounds so lovely.
My present to
River is under the tree and it only takes seconds to grab it. I put it
carefully on the floor at the side of the sofa and hurry to the kitchen to pour
some mulled wine. It smells delicious. On a whim, I put it into some nice
crystal glasses. I hope it’s not too hot. I didn’t realise quite how hot it
was. How hot does something have to be to break crystal glasses?
I carry them
very, very carefully to the living room and put them on the low table, then
curl up on the sheepskin in front of the fire with my back against the sofa.
I look up and
smile when River appears. I’m so excited. I wonder what his gift is. I hope he
likes mine.
River sits next
to me and cuddles up. For a moment, the presents are forgotten, and I’m lost in
my beautiful River. He keeps telling me how beautiful I am but he’s the one
who’s truly lovely. In the flickering firelight his hair shines with an almost
metallic sheen, a kind of dark red, with flashes of gold. I have to touch it.
It’s getting long and curling at the ends. I think it’s growing because he
can’t be bothered to have it cut but I hope he keeps it this way. I wind one of
the curls around my finger and tilt it so the hair catches the light from the
fire. It looks like I’m holding a flame in my hand.
“Earth to
Silver.”
“What?” I
glance up at him, feeling warm and cosy and kind of mushy inside.
“You were far
away again.”
“I was just
thinking how beautiful your hair is. It looks like fire.”
“Nah.” He
takes his hair back and examines the end of it. It’s just long enough to bring
round into his line of vision.
“Hold it up to
the fire, like this.” I tilt his hand until the hair catches fire and he
laughs.
“I guess
you’re right.” Catching me around the waist with both arms he draws me close
and kisses me in that way he has, the one that makes me feel special and
breathless. “Only you, my love. Only you
could make it a good thing that my hair catches fire.” He kisses me again,
gently. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve already lit a fire in my heart.”
“Oh, that’s a
beautiful thing to say.”
“I’ve had a
great teacher for making beautiful things.”
That makes me
blush. I know he means me.
“Speaking of
beautiful things,” River says. “I have one for you. At least I hope you’ll
think it is.”
Handing me a
large, flat package, River gazes at me hopefully. I’m going to tell him this
present is the most beautiful thing in the world no matter whether it is or
isn’t.
The wrapping
paper is so lovely, silver with snowflakes all over it, I can hardly bear to
remove it. The snowflakes are raised up and if I close my eyes when I run my
fingers over them I can imagine they’re real; except they aren’t cold, of
course.
“Silver?”
“Huh?”
“You’re
getting lost again.”
“But it’s amazing.
If you close your eyes the snowflakes feel real – except for the cold.”
“The paper
isn’t the present. You have to take it off to see the present.”
“I know.”
Very
carefully, I slip off the silver ribbon and loosen the tape.
“For goodness
sake, Silver, just rip it off.”
“I can’t rip
it, it’s too pretty to tear.” Under the paper is a white box. I fold up the
paper and lay it to one side then stare at the box. It’s perfect. Smooth and
white with crisp edges and a raised part in the middle that looks like a curled
up dragon. I run my fingers over it and––”
“Silver, if
you don’t get on with it I’m going to open the present myself.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Inside the box
is some tissue paper and when I push it aside I can’t believe my eyes. It’s
amazing. The smell of leather tickles my nose and the touch of it under my
fingers is silky soft. In the middle of the book is a dragon, curled around two
silver letters, an S and an R.
“It stands for
Silver and River,” he says unnecessarily. I raise my head, feeling stunned and
fuzzy. I forget to say thank you. It’s just too much. No one has ever given me
anything so beautiful before. I have very few possessions and this is worth
more than all of them together. “Take it out.”
“Can I?”
“Of course you
can. It’s yours. You can do whatever you like with it.”
Running my
fingers over the dragon again, I carefully lift the book out of the box. It’s
quite heavy.
“Open it.”
“Oh, I can’t
do that. It’s too beautiful to open.”
“Silly. What
good is a book you never open?”
I think about
it and realise he’s right. The book is filled with thick, creamy paper. I can
tell it’s the highest quality. I could use this for all kinds of things –
sketching, water colour, acrylic maybe. Inktense would look lovely in here. No,
the book’s just too nice to spoil.
“I thought you
could use it for special paintings, maybe make a collection just for us – you
know, grown up ones just for us.”
I don’t
understand what he’s saying – until I catch the expression on his face. “Oh.”
My imagination starts racing. I’ve done a few sketches of River naked. He has
such a beautiful body and it gives me a lot of pleasure to render it on paper,
although I’m not good enough to really do him justice. The thought of making a
whole book full of pictures of River’s naked body in different positions and
mediums makes me shiver and my body tingle.
I can’t help
giving him a dirty look, it’s the way I’m wired. He certainly doesn’t complain.
“You’re going to have to learn to lie still in all kinds of weird positions.”
“I can manage
that.”
“Hmm… We need
to practice. Maybe we could try right now.”
“Can I open my
present first? I have a feeling if we start practicing, I’ll forget all
about it.”
“Oh, yes, I
forgot. Go on then.”
I’m excited
all over again, nervous too. What if he doesn’t like it?
River doesn’t
unwrap his package carefully. He rips off the ribbon and the paper, throwing it
into an untidy pile at the side of the sofa. I didn’t put the present in a box
so as soon as he takes off the paper he has it in his hand.
River stares
at it for so long I get nervous. What if he doesn’t like it and he’s trying to
think of a way to tell me that won’t hurt my feelings?
It’s very
simple. I made it at the shop. I’ve been experimenting with porcelain sugar
sculptures. It’s a particular kind of sculpting where the porcelain is hand
rolled and pulled until it’s very thin, like spun sugar. This one is a picture
frame formed by two trees. The trunks are the sides. The spun branches spread
out, meeting in the middle to form the upper edge, and the roots form the
bottom.
On one side, a
squirrel climbs the tree, while on the other an owl sits in the branches. There
are birds, perched and flying, and weaving
through the roots. All the extra details have been hand painted with a tiny
brush. Inside the frame is a photograph of me, River and Ben. It was taken in
Sam’s garden, with the oak tree behind us. None of us noticed at the time that there
was a squirrel in the branches. It looks as if it’s about to jump on Ben’s
head. It was the photograph that gave me the idea for the frame.
“It’s
amazing,” he says at last, sounding breathless. “How did you do it? Where did
you fire it?”
“Rusty has a
friend. He let me experiment. He wouldn’t normally, but Rusty told him I was
trustworthy. I tried a few things that weren’t right, but none of them
exploded.” I’m really proud of that. Many novices use the wrong clay and if
there are too many impurities they can explode. In the worst cases it can
damage the kiln. Most professionals wouldn’t dream of letting a novice use
their kiln. I don’t know what Rusty said to him to make him trust me but he was
very nice, even about the ones that didn’t work out. He has a shop and wants me
to make more for him. I don’t know if I will. It was fun to do, something new
and special for River, but I’m not sure I want to do it again.
River hands me
the frame and for a moment I think he’s giving it back. A pang of pain shoots
through me before he gets to his feet and holds out his hands for it. Taking it
as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, River places the frame on the
mantle, moving candles and photographs to make room.
“That’s
better. I was scared I’d break it but it looks perfect there.”
“Thank you,” I
whisper, getting to my feet. “Do you know what else looks perfect?”
“No, what?”
From the smile on his face, I know he knows what I’m about to say.
“You,” I
breathe and this time when we kiss it such a different kind of kiss.
Hours later,
we’re lying in bed, tired, sated and content. I’m wound around River in the way
I like best and he’s stroking my hair. I love it when he strokes my hair. It’s
one of my favourite things.
“So,” he says,
sounding sleepy, “what do you think of Christmas so far?”
“I think it’s
very stressful,” I say, thinking about it, “There’s so much to do and everyone
seems to be doing it at the same time. There are too many people and too much
glitter. Shopping makes my head hurt, and if Ariel hadn’t been there, I don’t
think I could have done it. I’m glad we’re going to Sam’s for dinner tomorrow
because it seems to me that’s the most stressful thing of all. There are so
many television programs about it, and different ways of doing it, and… well
all kinds of things. Hannah’s a really good cook and I’m looking forward to
it.”
“It was nice
of them to invite your parents, too.”
“Yes. I can’t wait
to see them again. It’s been ages.”
“I’m sorry we
didn’t get to go up in the summer.”
“You can’t
help it if your car was broken. Besides…I wasn’t… I couldn’t have…” I sigh.
Even now, there are times when something scares me, and I can’t go out again
for ages. That place inside my head where I go to be safe is still there.
Fortunately, I know my way out again, and River knows how to help me if I get
lost, but it takes time.
“Don’t worry.
You can’t help being ill and you’re getting better every day.”
“I know.”
Is it an
illness? Really? Fear? That’s what it is, I think, fear. Fear of everything.
Fear of being free. Is that an illness? I don’t know.
“I like the
sparkle,” I need to change the subject. Thinking about how different I am, how
River sees my struggle as an illness, is making me sad. “All the glitter and
lights. Some places are beautiful. Rusty let me help decorate the shop. I’m
glad about that because if it had been up to him there would have been nothing
but glitter and holly.”
“That might
have been nice.”
“Not as nice
as the forest I made. We used some of our kits so people can see how nice they
look when they’re made up.”
“No one who
buys one of your kits will be able to make it look as nice as you do.”
“But it
doesn’t matter. As long as they make it look as nice as they can it’s
worth it. It brings beauty into the world, so it’s beautiful.”
“What’s your
favourite part?”
I have to
think about that. I have so many favourite parts. Going shopping with Ariel.
Choosing presents. Making River’s surprise. All the pretty things. But none of
that is my favourite.
“My favourite
part is that everyone’s nice to each other. People smile at me, even when they
don’t know me, and say Merry Christmas. It makes me feel happy inside
whenever someone does that. Usually, people don’t talk to me at all, so that’s
special.”
“Yes, yes it
is special. Just like you.”
“I’m not
special. I’m just…”
“Unique,
that’s what you are. My very own, unique, enigma.”
I feel sleepy
but find enough energy to kiss River’s shoulder.
“Merry
Christmas,” I whisper and hear him echo it as I slide into sleep.
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