CHAPTER 1

There he came. Even from this far, I could already tell that it was him. His long, graceful strides never lost their rhythm even when he walked up the slope. His dark leather backpack was carelessly slung across his left shoulder.

He approached the row of sandalwood trees that graced the driveway. Suddenly he stooped and picked up something from the ground. It must be the sandalwood seeds. He told me once that the brilliant red nuts were a wonder. They were like jewels. He smiled to himself and resumed his walk in my direction.

He was getting closer now. The buckles of his shoes tinkled faintly. His golden hair glowed as the rays of the setting sun peeked through the leaves and fell upon his elegant form.

He was not aware of the pair of eyes looking at him. I was sure of it. Standing on the balcony amidst the flowering bougainvillaeas, I was almost obscured from sight. But then, he looked up, saw me and waved. I nodded. Soon he disappeared under the porch, greeting everyone he knew in the front hall, his voice happy and cheerful.

That's the way he was; so warm, so friendly. He could make my gloomiest day bright, my darkest hour light. I liked him from the first moment I laid my eyes on him. That was almost a year ago.

I had just started my French lessons that summer. After taking my proficiency test, the school administator decided that I should join the advanced class taught by Mme le Blanc. And that was how I first met him.

I could still hear his voice downstairs, merrily chatting away with students and colleagues while waiting for classes to commence. Soon the sound of voices ceased as students and teachers left the hall for the classrooms. Soon, he was walking up the wooden staircase towards his own classroom, towards where I was waiting.

He was now standing next to me. "Ça va, toi?" he half whispered, his fingers squeezing my right arm.

"Ça va, merci," I smiled and looked at him. He looked back, tiny furrows forming between his eyebrows, his hazel eyes studying mine.

"Tu es sûr, Gabriel?" he asked again, a look of genuine concern spread across his handsome face.
"Oui, trés sûr. Et toi, tous va bien?"
"Pas mal," his eyes still searching. "Allons," he said, gesturing towards the classroom.
"Après toi, Jean-Claude."

I wanted to linger still on the balcony. It seemed so peaceful there. The sun was about to hide for the night behind blushing clouds. A gentle breeze, heavily scented with frangipanis, brushed against my face. The fragrance engulfed me, almost intoxicating.

I did not very much like frangipanis, which now bloomed in profusion in the garden below. Their sweet smell sickened me, it reminded me of death...