Yuri Karamov liked to read. At least more than he liked board games. It wasn't something that I could have imagined occurring within the limitations of this universe. Which is why I even tried to laugh off the ridiculous number of books that lined my shelves. The little I knew about him, primarily his inadequacies when it came to reading, made me believe he would judge me for my love of books, and that it would make me unrelatable to him.
I didn't want him to see me any differently than he did Millin Ibranov. In fact, I wanted to be even closer to him than Millin.
So I stayed pensive and quiet when he would interrupt our game of chess by looking over at the bookshelves. Quick glances that would have gone unnoticedâeven mistaken for blinkingâhad I not been so engaged in him. But there they were, happening more frequently by the minute. It made me feel unsettled, and I couldn't concentrate on explaining the roles of the different chessmen.
- They're not all mine you know, I said at last when I felt like I had to address the third presence in the room. His eyes flicked back to the board. I moved my knight into an offensive position. I couldn't make it too easy for him. Yuri was a fast learner.
- The books, I explained when he didn't look up. He moved a pawn in my direct line of defence.
I smiled.
- Have you read all of them? He asked.
- No.
The small acknowledgment of the books in the room granted him unspoken permission to turn his head fully towards the bookshelves for the first time since our game began.
- Whose are they?
- Some my father's, some Eline's...some just for taking up space.
- And yours?
His look pierced me and I faltered. My words stumbled over themselves before they left my tongue.
- Not-...I...I have some, I said flustered.
- How many? I couldn't understand the reason for his interest. Was he making fun of me? Did he think it was uncool?
I clenched my teeth.
- I want to play another game, I said, changing the subject. I held his gaze, waited for him to object. He didn't. Chess hadn't been something he had been enjoying. He had barely paid any attention, and however much I pretended, I found no stimuli in playing against him. I saw all the checkmate positions within minutes of either of us having drawn the first move.
I packed away the chess board with his help and set up mine and Adriana's favourite board game: Sink the Ship, hoping it would hold his attention.
I explained the rules and we started playing. The first to sink the other's ship with twelve passengers had won. I enjoyed this game because it required strategical thinking, yet what made it fun was the risk and jeopardy that came with throwing the dice.
Half-way through the game, Yuri stood to take his jacket off. His eyes glowed fiery with competitive energy. I laughed at the inpatient way he pulled at his sleeves. I still thought I would win but Yuri had had a lot of luck and was catching up to me. He had sunk five of my passengers, and I, seven of his. His sudden winning streak had inflated his hubris.
I had offered to take his jacket and throw it together with mine on the bed when we'd first settled in, but Yuri had insisted he keep it on. He had looked uncomfortably hot at times, but not a single complaint had left his mouth and I hadn't insisted any further.
He hung the jacket on the back of his chair and rolled the sleeves of his school uniformâa white shirt and a blue cardiganâup to his elbows. The alabaster skin on his ventral forearms lay exposed to the light. He was so pale. I was transfixed. The veins in his arms encircled like vines up his translucent skin.
It was by pure chance that my eyes caught the long scar running along his palm, up the side of his wrist. I instinctively reached over the table when he drew closer to position his passenger. At my light touch, he skittered back in his chair, alarmed. I retracted my hand.
- Your palm, I said. Yuri's face relaxed a notch. He turned his left-hand palm-side-up so that I could see, but he didn't bring it any closer.
The sheen of the scar caught the light and set it apart from the rest of his skin. The cut started at a point near the center of his palm and followed a clean path along one of his natural lines till it curved up his wrist. Intuition told me it was self-inflicted; the clean line, the preciseness of the cut, it was all too beautiful to be accidental. The sight beckoned me closer until I was sat on the edge of my chair. I wanted to run my hand over it, to feel it. The thought aggregated in my mind, a pool of wants, but I didn't dare.
- It's a blood oath, Yuri explained.
- It's a Brommian thing.
I must have looked confused because he reached out and grabbed my hand. This time, it was I that was taken aback. His fingers were cold as they turned my palm upside.
- Millin took his father's hunting knife and cut-, Yuri traced a path down the length of my palm with his forefinger, - first his hand and then mine. And then we let the blood drip onto the soil in his backyard...in the flatlands.
Yuri's gaze held mine intently, almost as if he saw his own words reflected my pupils. Whatever he read on my face made his expression soften. He formed a fist with my hand with both of his wrapped around mine, mimicking pressing the blood out from the wound.
- Then, you say your promise. You spit on the soil and you place your cut hand on top of the earth. That's how you take a blood oath. The earth keeps your promise forever. But if you break it, it will curse you on the Day of Judgement.
I was so enraptured by this piece of information that I forgot that we still held hands, long after his last word.
- What did you promise? I asked.
- That Millin would always be my brother, and that I would protect him.
I was so jealous my words dripped green with envy.
- Did it hurt?
He shook his head. - You shouldn't do it all the time though.
- But can't Millin protect himself? I asked. - Is he getting bullied?
I hadn't heard of this at school. If anything, Millin was the bully. He was tall like Yuri but almost twice his size in stoutness. He was unruly and disruptive. I had always been a little intimidated by him.
Yuri smiled faintly. - No.
He slowly untangled his hands from around mine. The contrast in temperatures exacerbated the sudden distance between us. He inched back in his chair.
Yuri wouldn't look me in the eyes.
- He's my best friend. He's like a brother,.
I swallowed down the volatile feelings which flared up in my chest and forced a smile.
- Like my Adriana, I said.
- Yeah...but we fight more because we're guys.
- We fight too.
Yuri raised his eyebrows. - You can't fight with a girl.
I shrugged. - She's older than me.
-Why did you push her out...back then?
- She's annoying.
He laughed.
- Do you fight with your sisters? I was genuinely curious.
Yuri thought about it. Smiling he said, - With Anja-, something sparkled in his eyes, - and Katka fights with Anja too, a lot. They're twins but Anja was born fifteen minutes before her. Then...Surimna, she's only six, but she's started getting angry with me these days. Lopija...well, Lopi only knows love at her age. She's just three.
Yuri went on to describe why, and when they fought, but the only thing I could think about was how the Brommian had such hard names to pronounce. Did they perhaps mean anything in Brommin?
I asked Yuri. One corner of his mouth twisted upwards.
- Yes. Doesn't your name have a meaning?
I shook my head. He already knew that.
Yuri's expression was smug like the cat that got the last lick of cream.
- It's my great-great-grandfather's name, I defended.
- In Brommin every name has a meaning. Surimna means gentle stream; Lopija, a cradle, Katka means pure, and Anja someone cherished.
- And your name? I teased, thinking that the reason he hadn't mentioned it was because of its embarrassing origin.
- My name is not in Brommin. He was visibly saddened by it. I hadn't understood why back then, there were a lot of names that were without meaningâmine surely was.
It wouldn't be until much later that Yuri's solemness would make sense to me. I would realise that it was just the tip of an iceberg. An iceberg so deeply buried, Yuri couldn't have known how to navigate around it at that age. Neither of us knew. This realisation that Yuri was the only one in his family who had an Arash sounding name would pull all sleep from under me as I lay in bed one night. And as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, awaiting sleep, I would ponder what it had meant for Yuri to have had an easier name to pronounce, the implicit ways it would have made his life easier than his siblings'.
But right then, in the room, I asked, - Does your name have a meaning?
Yuri shrugged.
- We should look it up, I said without thinking.
- How?
- We...we need to head to my father's office. My smile widened as a plan formed in my mind.
- He has a book with the meaning of different stuff. We just have to search your name in there.
His eyes lit up.
I got up from the table and showed him the way to my father's office.
We exited my room and crossed the upstairs living room. The door to my father's office lay smack in the middle of a large corridor that doubled as a living room. As a guest, it was the sort of minor detail that got lost in the grandeur. Behind the couches, on the wall opposite the windows, were two doorsâthe closest of which we came to stand in front of.
I poised to knock. It was an ingrained behaviour that had literally been knocked into me, but I caught myself just in time. I remembered that neither of my parents were home.
I cast a cautionary glance over at Yuri before opening the door.
My father's office had the distinct smell of newly pressed paper with a hint of woody undertones and wax oils. It was a nostalgic smell that always hit me square in the chest.
I stepped over the threshold and made my way onto the carpet.
- Wow, Yuri breathed, as he took in the room. His eyes roamed over the bookshelves which lined the walls, panning over to the lynx pelt sprawled out in front of the dark mahogany desk, the stationery, the stuffed animals, the vases, the windows, the draperiesâall of it. He took it all in with wide, hungry eyes.
That's when I got my first clue that Yuri Karamov thought that books were exciting because it was the one thing that dominated my father's office. If the smell of books weren't enough to satiate you, there was plenty left for the eyes to feast on. Rows after row of neatly tucked spines; some tattered, some shiny lined the shelves. My father had stacked the larger books in piles on his desk, and some on the floor when they were too large to fit the shelves standing upright.
I pulled my father's office chair to the shelf where I knew I would find the book we were searching for. I pulled out the thick tome and climbed down with some assistance from Yuri.
We sat down on the floor. He let me take the lead since I'd told him my father had shown me how to look things up. The pages of the book, seen from the side had small indentations with marked letters. We found the letter Y and opened the book to that page.
We skimmed through page after page of the encyclopaedia searching for Yuri's name. We came to the cluster of words which all starting with 'YUR'. My forefinger traced the columns until it stopped at 'YURI'.
- There, I said, moving my finger so that Yuri could see.
- Read it, I urged when he just stared.
His eyes flickered over to me, hesitant.
Wetting his lips, - Yuri, he read. - Name. Slavic roots. Derived directly from the Greek name Georgios meaning farmer.
The silence between us was deafening. It took me some time to register what had been uttered. My eyes skimmed over the small letters to confirm what he had read.
I looked over at Yuri who mirrored my surprise. We both burst out laughing at the same time.
- I told you, you're a farmer!
- I'm not a farmer! He shouted back, drowning out my hysterical laughter.
- It says it right there. I pointed to the book.
- It's lying.
- How can it be lying? It said it was Greek. Your name means farmer in Greek.
- That's not what it says, Yuri said, peering closer at the text.
I bent down to do the same. We hovered over the sprawled pages in silence.
- See, I said, it says Georgios means farmer and your name is the Slavic form of Georgios.
Yuri sulked.
- It could have been worse, I said. - You could have been named Georgios.
He didn't look consoled, if anything, he looked even more offended.
- That's my dog's name!
My eyes bulged out of their socket in surprise.
- Really?
Yuri burst out laughing in my face. He clutched his side and rolled over on the carpet.
Unable to hold a straight face, I soon joined in.
- Bumpkin, I said through short bursts of breath in between our fits.
- What if someone had a name that meant bumpkin.
The corners of Yuri's mouth twitched.
I immediately started turning the pages to the letter B, searching if such a thing could have existed all along without us knowing about it.
I didn't notice when Yuri got up. When I looked up after some time, he was standing in front of the shelves. I didn't pay him much mind. A beat later, I felt him return to my side on the floor. I was still busy turning the pages looking for 'bumpkin' in the encyclopedia, to pay him any real attention.
We sat like that in comfortable silence, me paging through the encyclopedia and him sitting next to me...or so I thought. In reality, Yuri was leafing through his own book.
- What's that? I asked when I noticed that he was bent forward in concentration. His hair fell over his face as he read a book that lay open in his lap.
He seemed flustered like I had caught him doing something bad. I craned my neck, leaning forward to see what he was reading. I caught a picture of a bird on the page closest to me.
A wildlife book?
Yuri shut the book closed and pushed it away on the floor between us.
- I'm sorry. I should have asked, he said.
I looked at him, trying to read if he was being serious. His cheeks were reddening, his expression apologetic.
- You don't have to ask, you can read it, I said, and pushed the book back towards him. It was a wildlife book. The front cover was a picture of an eagle, photographed just before it swooped in on its prey.
Unconvinced and slightly unsure, Yuri picked it up again. I watched him open to a random page, and flick through the following pages. He was looking at the pictures, but was he reading too?
He caught me staring and glanced away before he looked back up again.
- What?
- Do you like those kinds of books? I asked.
His gaze zoomed back in on the book.
- I don't dislike them, he mumbled. He turned to the next page and feigned interest in whatever he saw there. But as I knew, it was impossible not to look at a person you were aware was staring at you.
When Yuri looked up his expression was toeing on vexation, which amused me.
- Is there something you would like to read? I asked.
He shook his head.
- I have some books in my room. They're all yours to borrow if you want.
It was only as I got up from the floor, ready to prove true to my words, that I saw the first sign of true excitement on his face. It felt my stomach do a triple somersault.
- I'll be right back, I said, and hurried as fast as I could out of the study to my room. I grabbed as many of my favourite books as I could carry from the shelves and hurried back to the study.
I dumped the books on the floor, at Yuri's crisscrossed legs. I was panting heavily from the small exercise. I then sat down and proceededâwith much delightâto tell him what each book was about.
It was only in the midst of my very passionate detailing of the adventures of Ellie and her talking dog, Totoshka, in Alexander Volkov's retelling of The Wizard of Oz that I noticed the weight of Yuri's gaze. His eyes burned into me with an unreadable expression.
I realised I had never held anyone's attention as undivided as I held his. Nobody had made me feel like they were hanging on my every word, waiting in anticipation to be entertained by me. I refused to show how much it was getting under my skin and into my system, posing my brain with thoughts of what he thought of me at that moment.
Was I making a fool of myself? Was he interested or was he listening out of politeness? I wanted more than anything to peer into his mind and see the answer for myself.
At the back of my mind, I knew I was probably rambling and spoiling the books for him. I knew the stories weren't making much sense because he hadn't read them yet. But I felt an exhilarating rush that went straight to my head. I had never shared books I liked with anyone besides Adriana before. So, in my excitement, I was completely helpless to the way the names, the facts, and the places spewed out my mouth like a faucet.
I felt myself repeating things like: 'this one is my favourites', and, 'you'll like this one', or, 'read this one'.
Miraculously, the machine that was my mouth got reconnected to my brain and its filter-system and I stopped talking. I became aware of my overheated body in the sudden silence that followed.
- Why did you stop? Yuri asked.
- Did you like it...the...the books?
He confirmed with an eager nod.
I smiled through the confusing emotions bubbling to the forefront of my mind. I wanted so much in that moment, all of which I didn't yet understand.
- Which one did you like best?
- The Wizard of the Emerald City, he answered without missing a beat.
I handed him my worn, and beloved hardcover-copy. He opened it up to the first page, holding it delicately in his hands.
- There are pictures in there, I said, pointing to a drawing on the first page.
He nodded.
- Do you have a lot of books at home? I asked although I already thought I knew the answer.
- Some, Yuri said looking up from the book. - They're my Papa's. They're in Brommin.
I nodded.
- Wildlife? I asked.
He furrowed his brow. - No, on how to build houses...and stuff. A lot of stuff.
My eyebrows shot up.
Yuri smiled. - Yeah, Papa is a builder. He built our house and many others' on the flatlands.
- Are you sure you don't have goats and sheep? I asked, smiling.
Yuri's mouth twisted wryly. - No, we have loads, and pigs and horses...and dolphins, too. From the Caspian.
I laughed. - There are no dolphins in the Caspian Sea, I said.
- Papa says there are.
- It's yours now if you want it, I said, looking down at the book.
Yuri just shook his head, - I'll read it and I'll return it to you...Can I?
- I said you can have it.
Yuri looked down at the book, hesitation clouding his features. I saw that he wanted to, but was being held back for some reason.
- Will your father be angry?
I shook my head.
- And your Mamâ...Eline, will she be angry?
- She won't care. Just take the book.
Yuri still adamantly shook his head.
- I'll borrow it and return it when I'm finished. He hugged the book tightly to his chest. This was the way Yuri was I would learn. He never accepted gifts if they weren't forced on him. He even got weird about birthday gifts. It would take me years to learn how to trick him into accepting the most trivial things.
On some level, however shallow, I understood his pride. It couldn't have been easy accepting something from an Arash.
I didn't press the issue any further. My whole body warmed at the sight of him being so affectionate towards an unanimated object which an hour ago I had thought would scare him away from ever wanting to be my friend.
- You like reading, I stated, for no one in particular.
He was unable to deny it. I saw it on his face, the joy that holding the book brought him.
- And? He asked, confused but not unkindly.
I just shook my head unable to contain my smile.
- Does Millin like to read? I asked.
A full-blown smile sprouted across my whole face when Yuri answered what I already suspected.
- No.
Joy and contentment grew like ivy around my ribcage, constricting my breath. I knew in that instance that we would become friends. I laid my palms flat on the carpet and took an imaginary blood oath right then and there.