When I left the station, my head was still
somewhat stunned by the image of a sad farewell and the vision of the last railway
wagon being swallowed by the autumn morning mist. I did not really see the
person whom I bumped into, scattering a reasonable number of packages along the
pavement. I hastened to help minimize the damage I had done, almost without
looking at the face of the person who knelt down, at the same time, saying
there was no problem, in response to my plea for apologies.
When I looked up and saw those eyes so green, I
wondered if the gods decided to play their games with me, teasing me one time after
the other, over and over again. I must have been staring at those emerald eyes for
too long because the smile I got back, left me somewhat awkward, thinking I could
have exceeded some boundary. I looked back down, with my face completely
flushed and feeling my ears burning with embarrassment.
- It was no big deal. It
happens... Thanks for helping me collect the packages.
- It was the least I
could do to make up for the damage.
My voice sounded strange. I could hardly
recognize myself. I wanted to disappear, in spite of feeling an incredible
magnetism, as if I was being somewhat controlled by those eyes. The shame I
felt made me feel absolutely uncomfortable. I wanted to run away from there,
but something inside was fighting against that intention. In a way, I also felt
that I wanted to stay. He then surprised me by asking something I never
expected to hear, at that time, from a complete stranger.
- Do you want to have
a cup of coffee with me?
I must have made a strange face, because he
laughed loudly.
***
My eyes fell upon the bags on the chair beside
him and that contained the parcels, which were scattered down the sidewalk
outside the train station a few minutes before. He noticed my curiosity, but did not
say anything until I asked.
- Are those gifts for
your children?
- They're for my
nephews ... I have no children. I'm not married.
My soul grinned. The corner of my mouth must
have shown some kind of sign. He laughed and held his hand out.
- My name is Dima.
I told him mine. He made a kind of strange face
at the mention of my unusual, somewhat atypical name and asked:
- What is the meaning?
- What is meaning of
what?
He laughed.
- Of your name.
I never thought my name could have a meaning. Anyway,
I made a quick trip in my memory and on what I knew about my origins, trying to
come to any conclusions, but I came to virtually nothing. In my country and in
my family, the names were always given by choice and affinity, not meanings. I
was aware mine had been chosen at random, without any criterion, other than the
initial, which was equal to that first letter of the name of my brothers. He
then explained the reason for the question:
- My name was given in
honour of Demeter, the goddess. Dmitry. Dima. I like, however, to use a
pseudonym in a pun with the pronunciation: Demon. It gives me an uncommon
identity...
And he laughed with the corner of his mouth,
raising his right eyebrow, in a way I could never do, try as I might. That way
of raising his eyebrow gave him the looks that would fit perfectly in the
nickname he had chosen himself.
If life were a movie, the dramatic incidental
music which anticipates a great suspense would play at that right moment. I
laughed inside at that silly thought. To tell the truth, I had done the
association, mentally, but I pretended to show surprise. It was just a little
white lie, in order not to be too obvious or to look any clever. Sometimes it
is better to pass up a silly impression and keep expectations low. And besides,
I wanted him to talk more about himself.
- Demon...
Interesting...
He looked straight into my eyes and smiled. An
unusual thought came to my mind at that moment. A strange feeling bothered me, like
the pierce of a finger on a rose thorn. Something scratched the sense of
coherence in me.
How strange... That smile seemed almost
impossible for me to resist . He realized a kind of embarrassment in my way of
looking at him and opened his best grin ever.
- (Who is this man,
anyway?)
That young paled skin demon with light eyes
could easily lead me to temptation and I knew it would be difficult to dither.
- I have to go. Thanks
for the company, but I have to go...
He took a paper serviette and scribbled a phone
number and an email address. He handed it to me and extended his hand.
- Keep contact. Hope
to see you a next time.
He got up and left without turning around. As
he passed the window, he looked in and waved at me with a mischievous smile. I
smiled back. My hand rested on the serviette, as if trying to keep a bit of him
with me for a while longer... maybe in vain...
I shook my head, got up and left. It was time
to come back to real life.
***
- I thought you were
not going contact me.
- I confess that I
hesitated, but finally decided... and I do not quite know what to say.
- Invite me for a
coffee. You need no more than that...
I laughed. He was right. There was no reason for any excuses. It's good to be an independent adult and give no account of
what one does to anyone at all.
We met at the same place as the first time. He
was already sitting at a table when I came in. He greeted me with a warm and
firm handshake and a broad smile. My face was burning, as if I had a fever and
I felt hot, although we were in the middle of a cold winter.
- Let's get out of
here and go to some quieter place. I just had an idea.
He drove us to a beach. The sea was calm and
the day clean and dry, in spite of the temperature being fairly low. We walked
along the sand, side by side, almost without talking, each one immersed in our
own private thoughts. Sometimes we stopped to catch a shell, throw a stone into
the sea, or watch the seagulls fly and the waves break and crawl to our feet.
The minutes seemed to fly away. Soon the sun
started to go down and dive slowly into the horizon. We were side by side in
silence feeling the cool air and the colours of the sky change into stronger
shades of warm colours.
- It's beautiful.
- It is indeed...
I felt a strange emotion at that moment, when
my hand touched his, almost accidentally. The beach was deserted and quiet,
unlike my mind.
- Let's go back? I'm
cold.
- OK.
Back in the car, I felt like rubbing my hands
with energy, as I was freezing. Have it cooled too quickly or was I with the body temperature
completely out of tune? Maybe there was something else behind all of that and my
mind and body were showing signals of my restlessness.
- Are you that cold? Do you want me to turn the heating on?
- There’s no need for that. Thanks...
Just let it be...
- Or do you want me to
help you warm up some other way?
- Which other way?
He laughed again, with the corner of the mouth
and with his eyebrow raised, displaying the same facial expression that he had
shown the day he spoke about the unusual nickname he had chosen to use. A strange sensation
messed with my stomach and I outlined a wan smile.
- I do not usually
sleep with demons... nonetheless with my own ones...
He rested his hand on mine and said, seriously:
- Sleeping with your
demons is far more acceptable than laying with the ones who betray your trust...
He was right. I raised my head and looked into
his eyes when I heard him continue the thought.
- And some people do
not need to sell their souls instead...
His pupils dilated, fixed in my eyes. My throat
felt dry and I could not look away from his stare. He came closer.
I froze. A chill ran up my spine.
I seemed to have my body and mind paralyzed or
magnetized, perhaps completely spellbound and unable to react against a kind of
power that emanated from him. I felt the heat of his breath getting closer to
my face. I shut my eyes... and my body quivered in fear...
***
