Walking

The road between the palace and the big house was a narrow tunnel of greedy trees, bending towards one another in an arc above the road in a desperate attempt to touch. It was the only road in and out, and really the only pavement at all in a large swath of trees. The boys walked on it to work in the morning, and they walked on it to bed in the evening. They always walked on the left side of the road, so as to be clearly visible to any traffic, and to wait for the face of a pretty woman behind a windshield.

The walk was quiet, and the boys kept the ritual of silence. It was half a mile of meditation, ten minutes of four brains saying prayers so close to one another, yet completely oblivious in its own way. Sometimes M would pick up Macadamia nuts fallen from a certain tree they passed. He would hold the three brown shells in a palm, and roll around one another with a soft tapping. They were soft and spherical, like three planets of his own.