Balancing on Fences
It’s that time of year again, when the last of the ice and snow has finished melting to give way to the first buds of spring.
In these times, Yixing wakes up before the sun comes up and goes to bed long after it’s gone down. Spring is the most bountiful of all the seasons, but it is also the most demanding work-wise. There are seeds to be sowed, animals to be birthed, plants to be nurtured, and the list just goes on and on and doesn’t end until summer overtakes spring, but then that’s just swapping out one set of responsibilities for another.
But before all else, before Yixing can go help his father plow the fields or feed the animals, there is one thing that must be taken care of.
Yixing sets out from the house before the sun rises and makes his way across the grassy land. He reaches the edge of the family property and the wall separating it from their neighbor’s land at the crack of dawn and finds that there is already someone waiting on the other side. It’s not someone he knows by name, but he’s seen that face around before, working on the adjacent farm.
Extending a friendly hand, Yixing introduces himself to the person. “Hi. I’m Yixing.”
The stranger, a teenaged boy who cannot be older than Yixing, stares at the proffered hand for a moment before taking it. His palm is hard with callouses and his grip is firm. “Jongin,” the boy grunts out.
-
The wall is built entirely out of stones laid one on top of another. Even in its prime condition, it only reaches up to waist level, but the line it draws is clear enough.
Today, stones lay littered on either side of the wall, the result of fierce winter storms and hunters deconstructing it so their hounds may follow a fleeing rabbit.
They gather the fallen stones and begin the task of restacking them, carefully so that the rocks don’t collapse when they turn around in search of more building blocks. They work silently, keeping the wall between them as they go along, the quiet atmosphere broken only when the animals start waking up and baying in the distance.
Yixing sneaks glances at the other boy as they work, each look more lingering than the last. If Jongin notices, he doesn’t show any indication of it. He keeps his hands busy with the stones and his eyes busy with everything but the person across from him.
-
“Hey.”
Jongin’s eyes flicker upwards for a moment before his head lowers again. He does not reply.
Yixing continues regardless, pausing in his work to gage the other’s reaction. He jerks a thumb towards the apple orchard behind him “I don’t think any of our apple trees are going to get over on your side. Same with your pines.”
Jongin shrugs it off. “Good fences make good neighbors,” he recites mechanically, heaving another stone into place.
Yixing smiles mischievously. “Really now? Did you make that up yourself?”
Jongin is startled enough by this comment that he stops his work and looks into Yixing’s eyes for the first time, at a loss for words. Surprise is a good look on him, Yixing muses with a silent laugh.
“No,” Jongin finally says. “My father told me that.”
-
When they wear out their fingers from handling the rough rocks, the sun is high in the sky, beating down on them mercilessly. Yixing suggests a small break, and Jongin doesn’t seem too opposed to the idea, so they stop their work momentarily.
Yixing seeks the cool shade of a nearby apple tree. Despite being the son of a farmer, he has skin that would sooner turn a nasty shade of red than absorb the sun rays readily.
Jongin, having refused the offer to cross over and partake in the shade, sits next to a large gap in the wall, his entire profile clear from Yixing’s vantage point. Yixing marvels at Jongin’s tan skin enviously. When the sunlight hits it, it almost looks like molten gold, and Yixing wonders if it would feel just as scorching if he were to touch it.
A bead of sweat leaves a trail down the curve of Jongin’s cheek, and he lifts a hand to wipe it, the taut lines of his arms visible even at Yixing’s distance. Then, slowly, a tongue peeks out and swipes languidly over dry lips, and Yixing is reminded that the other had not brought anything with him to the wall.
Climbing to his feet and dusting off his pants, Yixing makes his way over and taps Jongin on the shoulder. The younger boy starts. Yixing extends a hand, a juicy, red apple in his palm. Jongin hesitates, but at Yixing’s encouraging look, takes the fruit. Their fingers brush.
“Thanks,” Jongin says, barely audible, but sincere. Yixing smiles at him in return.
A warmth that does not burn.
-
“You’re a good rider.”
Yixing looks up in surprise at the statement and sees that Jongin’s face is flushed red from exertion and embarrassment.
“I see you riding with your horse sometimes when I’m tending the fields.” The words get progressively softer as though Jongin’s wish to take them back grows as more tumble out.
“Thank you,” Yixing says with a laugh. “Do you ride too?”
“No,” Jongin says, curiosity creeping into his tone. “What is it like?”
Yixing grins as he thinks about the feeling of galloping at full speed, arms outstretched and fingertips brushing the heavens, with nothing but stirrups and faith keeping him from falling back down to the earth. “It’s like flying,” Yixing decides. “Flying free into the sky.”
“That sounds really nice,” Jongin says with a hint of wistfulness, and Yixing remembers that Jongin’s family doesn’t own any horses. Yixing wonders if it would be too forward of him if he…
“I could teach you some time. If you’d like,” Yixing blurts out, and he is rewarded with another shocked expression.
Jongin says nothing for a long time, and as the silence grows, Yixing speculates whether or not two people can really break decades of habits and traditions. It’s a wall older than the physical one they are rebuilding.
“I’d like that,” Jongin mumbles quietly at long last, and Yixing feels like some weight he has never noticed before is lifted.
-
It is dusk when they finally near the end of the wall. Yixing slows his pace, somehow not eager to finish his work. He is gratified to see that Jongin is doing the same.
Towards the end of the wall, there is a large gap which two people side by side can easily pass through. Yixing hesitates, and glances at the reluctance written all over Jongin’s face.
“Good fences make good neighbors, eh?” Yixing jokingly needles Jongin, but the other merely frowns, eyebrows furrowing.
“It’s getting dark,” Jongin says.
“It is,” Yixing agrees, the corners of his lips turning upwards.
“We best get back home before there’s no light out,” Jongin asserts, gaze fixed on the darkening sky.
“You’re right.” Yixing sticks out his hand, a mirror of his action hours ago. This time, Jongin doesn’t hesitate to take it. His palms are warm against Yixing’s, and when they let go, their fingers linger for the barest moment.
“I’ll see you?” Jongin asks uncertainly.
“See you around,” Yixing promises, and there it is-Jongin’s smile, emerging like a light in the darkness. Yixing momentarily forgets to breathe.
As the two turn in opposite directions and start the trek back to their respective homes, Yixing takes one last look at the weathered barrier between them and thinks that there is no wall in the world that is insurmountable.