When Ken slipped through the door Ravi was not sketching, as he had expected, but laying flat on his back on the wooden floor. His eyes were fixed to the ceiling and vacant. Ken could feel the waves of contemplation ghosting out from Ravi. His scowl was gone again, replaced by a look of profound thought. Ken paused, watching Ravi’s face for a long moment.

He wondered if Ravi was thinking of his mother. If when he painted it was with his mother’s spirit sitting on his shoulder. He thought of his own mother and made a noise in the back of his throat. The sound startled Ravi out of his reverie. His head tilted back from the ceiling to look at Ken upside-down. Ken gave a small smile of apology and a wave.

“Sorry. I thought you might be hungry?” Ken stayed where he was, enjoying the strangeness of Ravi’s face from this angle.

The silence stretched across the wooden floor between them before Ravi spoke in reply.

“I guess so,” His deep voice sounded wearied to defeat.

“OK,” Ken nodded. “Did you want to walk down into town with me? I’ll need some more things to cook for the two of us.”

Another silence followed, Ken was becoming used to it. Ravi seemed to want to weigh each word and meaning before he replied.

“I guess so.”

“I’ll just change into something that isn’t paint splattered and we’ll go.” Ken smiled, taking one more moment to remember Ravi’s face at the odd angle before turning away and disappearing into the rest of the house again.

The walk into town was nicer than Ravi had expected. The heat from the day was fading and the light was beginning to soften into pre-evening. The mountains beyond the town had become slightly buttery with the sunlight. Two elongated alien shadows walked in front of Ravi and Ken as they made their way down the hill into town. They didn’t speak. Both engrossed in the scenery around them and the loud cries of insects and birds.

It wasn’t until Ravi heard a third sigh slip from Ken that his mind clicked and he turned to the other man darkly.

“You’re pitying me, aren’t you?” Ravi’s voice was harsh even on his own ears. A small version of himself in the back of his mind groaned and tried to hold in the nastiness. It lost, as it always did when Ravi was talking about his mother’s death.

“What?” Ken’s voice was splashed with guilt and his face refused to turn from the mountains ahead.

“Stop it,” Ravi growled. “I don’t want to talk about it, or think about it, or answer questions. I came out here to sketch, not talk to you about my mother’s death.”

This time when Ken sighed it wasn’t with pity but with something else, something the colour of pond scum.

“I didn’t ask.” He sounded almost defensive. “I wouldn’t have anyway.”

“Good.” Ravi shot back, feeling the clawing fingertips of reason in the corner of his brain. “Don’t.”

“OK. I won’t.” Ken nodded. There was an awkward moment, their steps thumping down on the hot bitumen the only noise above the wildlife. The smile inching over Ken’s lips as he fought against it broke the tension and Ravi looked away before his own smile appeared.

There was just no bothering this guy! He took a nasty comment in his stride, literally. He smiled moments later as though Ravi had just told him that it would be hot tomorrow. It was frustrating. He wanted to shake him and ask what his damage was!

Instead Ravi watched the houses on the outskirts of town, loving the ramshackle nature of them. Some had clearly been a much smaller house to begin with, growing new adaptations as the family had grown. The gardens around most of them were amazing too; overflowing with flowers and shrubs, trees towering in the front and back yards. Riots of colour even in the summer heat.

An elderly couple on their porch waved to Ken and he waved back silently. As they moved on down the street Ravi glanced back to find them chatting to one another with their heads bent together.

“They never say a word to me,” Ken spoke happily, as though the previous conversation with Ravi had occurred in a different universe. “They always wave. I always wave. But I have no idea who they are. I don’t think they know who I am. I mean, apart from the eccentric artist who lives on the hill and walks into town everyday for food.”

Ravi didn’t respond. He simply watched the houses and gardens edge by and listened to the timbre of Ken’s voice as he spoke.

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing out here. I think you know what I mean. There’s just something about this place. Like it’s trapped in this pure little bubble. Like it exists outside the rest of the world.”

There was something so soothing about Ken. Ravi fought it as hard as he could, but there was something about his presence that let a blanket of calm settle over his shoulders.

“Anyway, I’m glad you decided to come back. I’m glad I’m not the only person who feels it here. Who feels it when they look at the forest.”

Ravi pulled his top lip between his teeth and his eyes landed on the road, their shadows gone now they were in the shadow of the houses.

“What do you want for dinner?” Ken’s voice snapped against his brain and Ravi scowled again.

“I don’t care.” Why had he done that? He had ruined his mood with one stupid question.

“OK.” Ken beamed and shook his head happily.

Ravi glared.