Chapter Forty

A Kiss and Goodbye

 

Thursday, March 22. 2.30AM. 125 S.A.

Underground floor, Grenoble Pyrene Station, France.

He had awakened

Everything was darkness for him, even though his eyes were open.

That female voice, with a certain artificial tone, had been repeating the same mesage for several minutes. Although he understood the meaning, he could do nothing about his situation.

[O-oxygen levels lo-o-o-o-low. Re-commend-ed ejection of the upper plate. Risk of i-i-imminent death.]

Then there were some sounds as if something was jammed and tried several times to disengage some kind of mechanism.

[E-error. The hyperbaric capsule safety system is damaged on locks seven and thirteen. It is recommended to operate the safety latch and eject the protective plate. Risk of i-i imminent death.]

I can't breathe!

That was the only thought that filled the blind man's mind. He had just woken up and found himself hitting a cold, curved surface whose touch reminded him of glass.

He was fighting for breath once again, but the situation had changed. What was happening?

What he remembered was that he was coughing up water and mud and that hands had pulled him out of the water.

He couldn't remember who he was, or how he had gotten there. He didn't even know the hands that had grabbed him and dragged him from the lake. They had asked him some questions and he remembered the voices. They sounded young. Were they his friends? Family? Acquaintances? Or had they been the ones who had thrown him in the water in the first place?

But where was he now? He was dry, and he could feel that he was covered with clothes and lying on a comfortable surface.

But no matter how comfortable it was, he couldn't care less if he couldn't breathe.

What was it? A thought of horror filled his mind. A coffin? Could it be that he was being buried? By what? By whom? How?

How long had it been? What it is a coffin? No, that voice had said hyperbaric chamber. He knew what it was. How did he know what it was? His mind was a whirlwind of flowing concepts, but he didn't care. He needed to breathe. He was drowning. Had it been a mistake to get out of the water? He couldn't order his thoughts.

But it didn't make sense. That female voice was also alerting him that he was short of air. What was that? French? How did he know it was that language? What was a language?

He had to concentrate. He felt weak but he had to fight. He had to breathe. He had to stop thinking about all the things that were coming into his mind. He knew it was knowledge, but how had it come into his mind? What was knowledge to begin with?

Suddenly he felt it. He couldn't see it, but he could sense it. There was someone on the other side of that curved thing.

"I'm going to get you out now," said a muffled voice, it was a woman's voice, she sounded young and she had just spoken to him in Russian.

He had no idea how he knew, but he knew it was Russian. As that thought filled his mind he heard a sound from that plate and felt something was opening to the side.

Dusty air filled his lungs. But he didn't care about the quality, it was air after all. He felt dust entering his mouth and coughed. Where was she and who was that woman?

"Slowly, breathe slowly," the woman said.

The man touched around. Beyond the thing he was standing on he felt that there were rocks and dirt all around. He groped with one of his hands until another hand found his. It was somewhat smaller and softer.

"I'm here."

He had no idea how he could, but he also used Russian to speak to her. "Thank you. P-please, do you know who I am? Where are we?"

That woman did not answer for a few seconds. "Yes, I do," she said slowly. The man had no way of knowing, but he almost felt as if she had said that answer as if she were smiling.

"Please tell me who I am."

"There's no time for that. We're leaving now."

"What are you talking about?"

That girl laced her fingers with his and then took the man's other hand. Almost immediately he felt how she had just placed it against something soft. Was that fabric? More knowledge kept coming and he understood what it was. It was the beating of a heart. That girl had placed his left hand on her chest, while his right hand was intertwined with her left.

He felt warm and that sensation brought him almost a feeling he couldn't quite understand.

"Now we're leaving.”

"Wait!" the man said, but it was too late.

Weightlessness. There was no up or down.

From lying down he suddenly felt as if his body was falling, but he knew it wasn't quite like that. It was simply as if he was floating but, at the same time, a part of him felt like he was falling and spinning. It was a terribly confusing sensation and he felt nauseous. He couldn't see it but it felt like the whole world was spinning.

It didn't last more than a few seconds, or so it seemed to him, but it felt like more time had passed. He didn't know what it was but he didn't like it.

Suddenly the ground. He felt a sensation similar to standing in a vehicle that brakes suddenly. His feet failed and he fell to the ground on a hard surface. He had let go of the girl's hand.

He felt a retch and a bitter taste in his mouth. He tried to vomit but, there was nothing in his stomach. He coughed several times and staggered to his feet. Then he realized. He touched his body.

He was sure he had had clothes on him, but now he was naked. He could feel the air filling his lungs, which was good. But he was definitely naked and he could feel the wind.

He tried to feel around, searching for something to reference and soon he felt that soft sensation again. But then the woman pushed his hand away. "Once you touch my chest is enough," her voice sounded a little colder.

"What just happened?"

"I'm sorry I have to do this," the woman said.

"What are you talking about? Tell me, do you know me? Do you know who I am? Where are we?" he had too many questions and needed answers.

For a few seconds the man only listened to the sound of wind. But after a moment he received an answer. And it came in a way he would not have expected.

It was a fist that felt as if it had been stabbed in the abdomen. It was that girl's fist without a doubt.

Had she just punched him? There was no doubt about it. That girl with the soft hands had just hit him in the pit of his stomach and was flying through the air at that moment.

The feeling again that he was neither up nor down for a couple of seconds, until gravity claimed its share of the payoff. He landed on wet grass and it confused him.

Had he returned to the water from which he had been pulled? That was a possibility and it terrified him. He couldn't see where he was, at any moment he could turn around and be in the water. The blow had made him dizzy and he didn't have the strength to fight back against that girl. What had he done to deserve such cruel treatment? Had he done something wrong to her? Was he a criminal? He could not remember and that filled him with despair. Where were his memories?

Suddenly he felt a stinging in his back. It was at the same level where she had hit him, but on his back instead of his stomach. His stomach was throbbing with pain, but he quickly forgot about it. The pain in his back was much stronger, throbbing and tingling as if someone had put hot pepper on a wound and at the same time was receiving electric shocks. What is it? He wondered as he tried to sort out his thoughts on the horrible shock his body was suffering.

"I'll let you sleep alone now. Remember: that knowing the destination, never ruin the experience of the journey."

"W-what? What i-what is that supposed to mean? W-wait! What does that mean?"

"Now I'll let you sleep."

"Wait…"

Suddenly he felt the girl's hands take his face and what he felt next left him totally unsettled.

That girl kissed him on the lips. It didn't last more than a few seconds, but it was enough to feel the softness and warmth. The same warmth that held his face. Who was she? She saved him, hit him, and then kissed him. What the hell was that? Some strange rite of passage? Why did he deserve such strange treatment?

"Remember: knowing the destination never ruins the experience of the journey," the girl repeated. Then she kissed him once more.

"What? Why did you do that."

"A thank you, and one for the road for me."

What the hell did that mean? He felt her hands leaving his head in the grass again. He had tried to grasp her, but he didn't have the strength for it.

"Accept it as a parting gift and a thank you."

"Thank you? For what? W-who am I? What... have I done?" The man felt footsteps moving away but it didn't matter, he was losing consciousness.

Just as the girl had said, she was leaving him alone.

"We will never see each other again, but thank you for taking care of both of them."

Taking care? Of who? How? When?

"Goodbye. Good luck, wanderer. You'll need it in the future."

The man did not hear the voice again, only the sound of the leaves swaying in the wind.

With what little strength he had left, he tried to call out to the girl. But there was no answer.

What it is going on?

At that moment something was coming back. It was something blurry. An idea? No, it was something different on his left side. Suddenly he understood. He couldn't understand how, but he knew. That was seeing. It was incredibly blurry but he knew. It was night.

He tried to raise his head and saw a blurry figure a little farther away.

Who are you?

That was the only thought that filled his mind, as he fell into a new stupor and passed out. He had gone from choking, to being knocked out of breath by a blow and then sleeping outdoors naked.

The girl had moved a few feet away, until she saw the naked man stop moving in the grass.

The girl was a young woman with pointed ears and wavy blonde hair that almost reached her waist. Her blue eyes flashed an unnatural electric blue in the middle of the night, though no one could see it. She was dressed in a black suit and wore a fedora hat.

Despite what she had just done, her face was relaxed and she had a semi-smile on her lips. Her eyes were wet for some reason.

"Really, thank you so much," she said and turned around, walking away from the man she had left on the side of the road.

A tear rolled down her cheek and the smile widened on her lips.

"Thank you so much," she repeated, but her voice was cracked, as if inside her many emotions were flowing unceasingly and without explanation.

She took a step, and then another, and disappeared.

She had vanished from that place in less than the blink of an eye. It was as if someone had filmed that scene and suddenly decided to cut the scene so that the girl would disappear from the set.

As if that had not been a mistake in reality. But it hadn't been.

Although faded, the man was still there at the side of the road.

But he was no longer the old man those college students had pulled out of the lake. In his place was a thin man who must have been in his forties, with a beard and long hair as black as a raven's wing, with gray locks on both sides.

Slowly that beard was getting shorter and his face was changing.

The world was indeed a strange place.

The man couldn't know it, but that girl had left him on the side of a road where no one was driving at that hour. And nearby there was a sign that read: Abandoned village of Saint Laurent du Pont. 2 kilometers.