Love in the Courtyard: Chapter Two

The next day the boys entered a room where dark coolness hung. Smooth coolness touched their legs as they sat on the bench. Shrill chatter filled the room. As Vernados, the master, entered the room they stood up then sat down in their places. He was a dwarf in their eyes. Almost a barbarian in his ruggedness.1

“So, boys, today we will be looking at the figures of mathematics,”2

“Ooh, sir, figures,” joked Jerom, “Like the figures of gods, athletes and Belen?”3

The room erupted in laughter. Jerom had a way of making every boy smile. His hand reached across the table to touch Belen. Belen blushed, reached his hand back to Jerom. 4

“So, em, start writing down these figures on your slates,” continued Vernados. The lesson continued at quite a pace, Jerom interjecting with humour where any could be found. He could turn the dryness of mathematics and logic into excitement like that seen at the Games. Yet, he also had the streak of romance about him which made it appropriate to place Belen’s name where it could be placed. They were as close as Alexander and Hephaestion. And how it hurt Erasmus. Of course, he had loved boys who had other lovers before. Yet it seemed Jerom’s love had a depth only experienced by one boy at a time. And Jerom seemed to love Belen more than any other. How Erasmus longed to be the cause of his affection. He longed to be seen as Belen was seen. The big (from Jerom’s reports) beloved in royal-purple toga. 5

‘How can Belen seem so perfectly fragile when I have no way to break him?’ wondered Erasmus.6

Erasmus tried to turn to the question of whether human beings had a soul, which Vernados had poised them with. Yet it had such complexity to it.7

He put across a few arguments, hoping that Jerom would agree with him. 8

There was one young boy in that room that agreed with him. One boy who had seen his strong beauty and admired him for it, almost obsessed over it. That boy wasn’t Belen’s Jerom, but the ever silent Damen.9