Chapter 8

Sophe pulled the cage’s latch closed and motioned for Nathan to follow him. The pair made their way to the edge of the center platform and down a narrow staircase. The sound of their shoes rang on the metal steps as they descended below the terraces. A web of thin steel girders held the platforms above the buildings below. The height of the buildings varied, as did the levels of the platforms, creating an intricate area between the roofs and undersides.

Nathan followed the boy, admiring the web of platforms and paths, trying to figure out how long it must have taken to construct. He also quickly realized the many advantages to such a set up. “This really is an impressive place you have here,” he said with unhidden admiration.

The staircase ended at a plain metal door. Sophe inserted a key into the doorknob and turned it. He held it there as a series of clicks ensued, before the door popped open on a modest loft. The ceiling was low and slanted and the planked floor creaked as the pair stepped inside. The space was lightly furnished; a whicker chair sat by a planter in front of the window, delicate purple flowers reaching toward the gray light that struggled through the glass. White pillows upholstered the chair and a book sat open on its seat. An aged ironwork bed occupied the opposite corner of the room, also sheeted in white, though it hadn’t been used for sleep in quite some time. The covers were littered with odd gadgets and a bicycle with a bent wheel was propped against its side.

Nathan smiled as he entered the room, instantly loving the feel of the place. He slowly made his way towards the window and looked at the flowers before leaning over to smell them. He raised an eyebrow at the delicate perfume, trying to find the flower’s name. He finally gave up and turned around to face the boy, casting a prying look at the book as he did. The book was thin and faded, a watercolor of a brown rabbit on the cover. The title read: The Velveteen Rabbit.

“This is a very comfortable place you have here, Sophe,” Nathan said with a soft smile as he looked at his host.

The boy hastily snatched up the book and held it to him. “T-thank you,” he managed, a blush staining his cheeks. He hurried toward another set of steep stairs on the far end of the loft. “Come on.”

Nathan chuckled lightly but decided to hold his tongue. A humorous glint appeared in his eyes as he followed the boy to the stairs.

The layout that greeted them mirrored the intricacy of the terraces above. Nathan could initially sense it was an enormous space indeed, but the changes Sophe had made narrowed it to numerous compartments and levels of cramped space. The boy skipped down the steps and immediately over to an extensive bookcase that ran along the wall under the loft. It extended to the end of the far-left wall, snaking around the corner and disappearing up into a hallway. Works ranging from Nietzsche to Einstein lined the shelves.

Nathan paused in the middle of the staircase and looked around, trying to make sense of the room. Like a stage, the room was raised about five feet above the floor. A brass railing ran along the edge, interrupted randomly by little three-step staircases. These stairways led up into hallways or directly into rooms, and sometimes to further staircases. Looking out over the warehouse space was like looking at a maze. The walls of the hallways and rooms differed in height, but none of them extended to the ceiling.

Nathan soon gave up trying to understand the logic of this place and proceeded down the remaining steps. As he walked past the bookcase he trailed his fingers against the books, silently reading the titles. “This is quite a complex library you’ve got here. You read all these books?”

Sophe crammed the storybook between the others on a low shelf and turned back to his guest. “Yes.”

“Could I possibly borrow a book or two sometime?” he asked with a hidden smirk as he watched the boy return the book to its place.

Sophe returned a momentary blank look and strode past his guest. “I don’t have any cook books.”

Nathan suddenly burst out in laughter at the boy’s response. “Touché!” he managed to utter between laughs as he patted the boy’s back. Sophe expelled surprised sound as Nathan hit his back. He straightened his coat as he guided them along the line of shelves to a few steps nearer the far wall. He took them up into a short hall leading to a kitchen area. Nathan finally sobered up and took a deep breath. “I’m not big into cook books really, but that book of yours did make me curious,” he grinned at the boy.

The boy scowled at his shoes as Nathan pressed about the book, keeping his back to the man to hide his flushed expression. “You want to know about the strangest things, Nathan.” He waved the man to a table that jutted out of the wall, and busied himself at the sink.

“It’s the strangest things as you put them that makes a person interesting, no?” Nathan answered as he took a seat. “But if you want I’ll just leave that book alone.”

“I don’t have whiskey,” Sophe stated as he plunked a glass down on the table. “Is brandy alright?”

“No whiskey?” Nathan chuckled. “Sure, I’ll take some of your brandy.”

Sophe climbed a step stool and stood tiptoe as he leaned into a deep cabinet. He returned to the table and sat down, pushing the bottle toward Nathan.

“Not taking any?” he asked as he poured himself a glass.

The boy hid his face behind folded hands as he watched Nathan fill his glass. “It was a gift,” he said abruptly from behind his fingers.

“A gift?” Nathan asked as he looked up towards the boy.

Sophe’s red eyes occupied themselves with the metal tabletop as he spoke. “The book...” his voice dropped, “...A birthday present.”

Nathan had lifted the glass to his lips when he heard the boy’s words. He froze for a second before swallowing some of the liquid. He set his glass down slowly and asked the boy as gently as he could, “A gift from whom, Sophe?”

“I had just come out of the bookshop one afternoon. A little boy was standing outside in the middle of a tantrum. His mother had just bought him that book for his birthday. He was waving it in one hand as he shrieked; she was dragging him by the other hand. In a fit he threw the book into a puddle. She didn’t even notice...” Sophe paused for a moment. “I picked it up and wiped it off as best I could. That day was also my birthday...”

“Sophe...” Nathan reached across the table and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He could not seem to find the right words to say. “How long have you been alone?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

The brim of Sophe’s hat dipped over his eyes. “Longer than you’d believe.”

“Oh?...” Nathan hesitated for a moment before finally asking, “How old are you, Sophe?”

The man caught the flex of Sophe’s fingers as they gripped his folded hands. “Nathan... It was difficult to bring you here today...”

Nathan tenderly squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “I know Sophe... and I am grateful you allowed me to come.”

Words failed the boy as he sat at the small table, trying to compose himself. “I... I...”

Nathan didn’t say a word... couldn’t say a word... as he struggled to find the right ones to give this enigmatic and lonely boy. “It’s okay, Sophe...” he started. “You don’t need to tell me everything...” his mind finished, his mouth unable to say it.

The mysterious events of the past few days seemed somehow far off, cut off by the walls of this cramped kitchen space. This moment encompassed only this strange boy and his guest. Gray sunlight filtered above them through high warehouse windows, the man’s hand rested on the boy’s shoulder; and a comforting silence descended. The boy sat motionless under the cover of his cap, Nathan could only assume, in deep thought. In spite of himself, Nathan smiled inwardly at how he was starting to become accustomed to Sophe’s behavior. Suddenly, the boy’s hand was on his, gifting it with a small squeeze. Sophe’s red eyes made a brief but stunning appearance as he got to his feet. “You wanted to see my place, right?”

Nathan was taken aback by the sudden movement, the unusual eyes always catching him by surprise. He nodded in agreement “Yes, I did.” He picked up his glass and drank it all in a shot before placing it back down, the glass resounding on the table. “I would definitely like that.”

Sophe led his guest through the kitchen doorway into what could only be described as a maze of hallways. The route twisted and turned, moving up and down odd steps. Rooms of differing sizes lined the halls, open to inspection by their lack of doors. Each room held different treasures - libraries, record rooms, storehouses for machinery, galleries, artifacts, and many times, nothing at all. It was however, the sheer amount of books that came most staggering. Nathan observed all of this with amazement, not believing what he was seeing. The amount of knowledge stored in this maze was simply inconceivable. “How did all these things get here, Sophe?” he asked, his eyes exploring the rooms.

Sophe did not turn to answer as he continued down a particularly long hall. “I guess you could say it’s my hobby. The front hall is where I keep them until I have time to move them to the appropriate room.”

“Hobby?” Nathan stared at the boy in disbelief. “How long did it take you to fill even one of these rooms? It must have taken years… “ Nathan said softly as he stopped to gaze into one of them.

“How long did it take you to amass your collection of newspapers?” Sophe countered. He looked over his shoulder, his question mirroring Nathan’s curiosity.

Nathan turned to look at the boy, his eyes belying how much the words had caught him by surprise. “Those are all the clippings of the last the past three years I believe,” he answered pleasantly.

“Hmmm?” Sophe hummed as he turned back to his route. The first and only door in this labyrinth waited at the end of the long passage. Sophe turned the bronze knob and pushed it open, stepping back to allow Nathan entrance.

Nathan was immediately struck by the atmosphere of this particular room. It was by far the most lived-in, but by no means the largest. The floor was a beautiful varnished hardwood, polished to a high gloss and trimmed by an inlaid border of dark green and red. An oriental rug was spread under a red velvet chaise lounge. Like many of the spaces in Sophe’s home, this room was lined with bookshelves, though in this case they dotted the walls in unexpected places, lending themselves more to interior design than pure function.

Nathan silently admired the room, his eyes roaming from wall to wall. He took a step inside, glancing down at the wooden floor before turning around and looking at the boy - a boy with a collection of books that would rival any library, a boy intelligent beyond belief, “A boy like no other...” he finished in a small voice. “This place continues to amaze me, Sophe.”

Narrow workbenches interrupted the cases along the walls. They were crafted of finer wood than one would expect of work-surfaces, and a few tall stools with padded backs and arms stood under them. Papers, notebooks, and random tools and test tubes littered every surface. Stacks of binders and rolled up maps sat in random clusters on the floor. The couch had obviously served as a bed more than once. A grand phonograph sat on an end table at the foot, a stack of discs underneath it.

Nathan walked over to the workbenches, his fingers trailing carefully along the edges as he examined them. “So this is where you work, eh?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

Sophe closed the door behind him with a soft click. He made his way slowly toward his guest. His voice was dusky with something between shyness and pride. “Mostly.”

“Very impressive...” The vials and test tubes meant little to Nathan, yet they seemed to fascinate him. He picked up one of the scrambled notes and tried to decipher it.

A smile was in the boy’s voice as he sat down on the couch. “You won’t be able to read it.”

Nathan sighed and shook his head. “You don’t have to be that blunt you know,” he said, suppressing a small smile. Placing the paper back down, he made his way over to his host, his eyes admiring the large phonograph as he did. The play of light in its polished surface had arrested his attention. A rainbow spectrum seemed to reflect off of it, and he could not decide if it was the metal itself or something else... Nathan moved closer to the phonograph, his hand slowly reaching for this unnatural light.

“Nathan?”

“Hm?” his head snapped back towards the boy, his fingers barely inches from the metal. He smiled apologetically at his friend. “What is this, Sophe?”

Patches of colored light danced on the boy’s pale face, reflecting in his large eyes. He smiled and pointed upward. Nathan’s gaze followed to a pair of stained glass windows suspended above the room. “They catch the light around this time,” Sophe said quietly. He leaned back on his palms as he looked up at the glass artwork.

Nathan sat down into the couch, his eyes staring at the ceiling as he followed the boy’s example and leaned back comfortably. “That really is beautiful Sophe. Who knew a kid like you could have such nice taste?” he said with a smile.

“They reflect color even though the light is gray... It’s somehow... comforting.”

“That it is...” The man suddenly didn’t want to speak, only admire the vibrant colors around them.