The garden was full of butterflies. Jonus could never figure out for sure how many of the butterflies were there when he wasn't. But whenever he walked the twisting paths of the carefully manicured garden, the air was full of flutters of color. There were the fairies too, of course. He was almost sure that those were his. Almost, but not positive.
Yes, Jonus entered the garden to a bright dance of color, to the gentle piping of fairies, and to the laughing impatience of Kyle. Kyle was his friend in the garden. He was the groundskeepers son, and it'd been too late by the time he found out that the groundskeeper didn't have one.
He'd just assumed. He liked Kyle, who was charming and good with the animals. He knew all the names of all the flowers that weren't actually there. Of course, so did Jonus.
When Father found out about Kyle, he did what he always did when he found out things. He hugged Jonus close and he kissed the top of his head. He said he was sorry. Jonus was never sure what he was sorry about. But he did something else. He said that the psychologist said he needed more socialization. Jonus didn't like the psychologist, who pretended to listen but never actually heard. But he loved his father, so he nodded.
And that was that.
