- Are you feeling well? Do you
have any sign of pain?
The frown and the blank stare showed evidence
that the boy was quite confused and making a huge effort to realize what was
happening in the small hospital room, surrounded by people dressed in white, who
were absolute strangers to him.
There was also a more mature man, wearing normal
clothes, watching the whole scene, with very sharp attentive eyes, but without
uttering any word. He had a somewhat friendly face, auburn beard and light
brown hair thinned at the top of the head. For some reason he could not
explain, he felt an immediate sympathy for the man leaning against the
immaculately white wall of the hospital room.
The doctor had tested all his vital signs,
auscultated his body and was now examining him with a small flashlight. They
had already made all possible tests, including X-rays and ultrasound, to check how
healthy his organs were. Physically, the young man was in good shape. They
still needed to ascertain whether the head injury brought any side effects to his
mental or cognitive response… or both…
- Can you understand what I say?
Are you able to remember your name, where you come from, who you are...
anything at all?
The boy showed no change in that faraway look,
just a quick, almost unnoticeable eyebrow frown. He was probably trying hard to
adjust the brain work and understand the message expressed by the words of the
doctor, who had just examined him completely and insisted on knowing anything
about him.
- Can you understand what I
say?
- I understand the words, but
it's all so confusing...
The pressure that was being placed on him, with
those questions, did not seem to help much. It was better to leave the boy
alone for some time. He needed some rest. The doctor called the older man out
of the room with a nod.
***
- You were found by me on the
beach, unconscious, completely naked and with a rather dreadful wound on the
back of your head. We were expecting that the memory would be affected by a
concussion. Can you understand what I mean?
The boy nodded.
- As much as I try, I cannot recall
anything. My mind is just completely blank...
The ferry cruised toward the island, bringing those
two men so different from each other, sitting side by side, each one with his
own history. In each head, a different intention in relation to their complex
pasts: one trying to rescue what had been forgotten and the other trying to
forget what had never failed to be painfully reminded...
***
The fisherman felt he had some responsibility
for the boy, for having found him and, in agreement with the hospital
administration, decided to bring him back to the island to try and help him
recover the lost memory.
They walked along the beach, heading for the
place where he was found by the fisherman, after the stormy night. The boy
slowed his pace down and looked at the man, as if he knew him well and said:
- Why do you hide yourself in
this island, far from everything and everyone and with this profession that is
not yours?
- How do you know that?
- I do not know how to
explain. I just feel it. And I also feel that there is much more to say, but you
keep on avoiding it...
- I do not avoid anything...
The older man smirked, avoiding the direct staring
from the young man, who was walking beside him. He thought to himself that he did
not have to give any satisfaction to him, but a strange feeling that he could
trust the other man and open his heart up, crossed his mind flippantly.
Messing with the past, after all that time, did
not seem to be a good thing anyway. Some skeletons ought to be kept in the
cupboard forever. Best to leave the past where it well belonged in: far away in
the most possible distant and untouched bygone times...
The boy carefully looked back at the man and
smiled, more to himself than to be noticed, at that response, triggered, almost
impatiently and without any eye contact.
- I have to respect you, not
only for what you are doing to me, but for wanting to keep your secrets away
from everyone. If that's what you prefer, there is nothing I can say or do. I
hope you know what you're doing.
- I do know what I’m doing.
Trust me... This is the place. It was here where I found you, almost dead. Do you
want to be alone?
The boy looked around. Although he acknowledged
the place was quiet and its natural beauty was almost untouched and wild,
bringing him a sense of serenity, it did not evoke any true recollection in his
mind.
- I don’t know. This place
does not mean anything to me. The fact that I was found here, does not imply that
the accident... or incident… took place around here, anyway.
He was right. So much could have happened: an
accident, an assault, an unfortunate coincidence... The site might not have anything
to do with what really happened to him.
The man looked at the boy. He did not seem to be
worried about finding out where he came from or where he would go, who he had
been or what he might come to find out, when he recovered his memory.
Apparently, the only thing that mattered to him was being alive. He did not
need to carry the unnecessary burden of a past to remember. That seemed to be
enough for a man who knew so little about himself that far.
What a strange feeling! He made a quick trip
inside himself and wondered how different they were. Not having a past to
remember seemed to be so much easier to live with than struggling to conceal or
bury one...
They were both standing side by side, looking at
the horizon, each man absorbed in his own thoughts... so close and yet so far
at the same time. The boy closed his eyes and felt the wind messing with his
fair hair, touching his pale skin, bringing the pleasant aromas of the ocean and
the seaweed and filling him with a gust of life.
Life. That was an unusually strong and weak concept
at the same time. It was a reality or an illusion that we always carry along
with us? How unpredictable can it be? How unreasonable it is to remain physically
healthy and mentally sane? Why did those thoughts fill his mind like the air
filled his chest? Why did he feel good, knowing there was nothing dearly to him
in that place? Why there were so many questions and no answers at all?
He sighed, breathing the ocean air in. That
place had become his all: his present and his future... and perhaps his only
refuge, until now...
- Let's go back, shall we? I'm
hungry. I will prepare something to eat. If you want to be left alone here for
a while, it's up to you...
- I'd like just to stay here
just a little longer, if it is not a problem... I enjoy this peace and this
sense of silence in my soul.
- No problem, of course. Stay
as long as you wish. I’ll be home anyway.
***
The older man stood up and collected the plates
from the table. They had dined without exchanging many words. Although they
appreciated each other's company, they did not extend the conversation long, as
the issues would tend to turn around a very limited sphere of subjects which
were avoided by both.
The boy picked the rest of the crockery and
cutlery up and put them carefully in the sink. He turned around, walked out to the
veranda and leant on the deck rail, looking at the empty darkness and
listening, not far away, the soft, monotonous song of the sea. The air was
cold, but he did not care much. He liked the mild fresh air of the autumn and
the typical sounds of the night on the island.
The other man was watching, from inside the
house, that man so much younger than him, with so much life still ahead and no
memory to relive at all. At least, he thought, he had no reason to feel any nostalgia...
How many plans might have been made at some point
in his short life, and were abandoned without any completion? How many
possibilities would also be opened for him in the future? Probably many of them
would be regarded as if they had never been planned, although they had been...
A page... or many, yet all blank and with so much still to be written by the
hands of fate. It was as if the previous pages had been torn apart from that precious
book, leaving it almost like new and ready to be used as if it were the first
time. All he had to do was to start from that point on and rewrite many
interesting new stories...
The fisherman thought of himself and how he wished
he could have a chance, too, to rewrite his own life story. He sadly laughed at
himself, thinking that there, in the same house, there were two human beings so
different from each other and with such opposite intentions in relation to
their pasts. Funny thing, however, they had yet so much future ahead of them.
He walked into the porch with a mug of hot
coffee in his hands and offered the other man, who accepted it, smiling. He
leaned on the railing next to the boy. They were both looking at the immense open
darkness around them, with their thoughts flying free with the night wind and
listening to the monotonous lapping of the ocean continuously caressing the
island coastline.
- You already paid for your
mistakes. You could have already forgiven yourself and moved on with your life.
- How do you know if I’ve
already paid? How can you tell me to get on with my life? Am I not living
another life already?
- It's not what your eyes show...
They always have such a great aloofness and this sadness is so touching...
The man closed himself in his shell. He did not
want to relive the anguish and the sense of guilt he once felt. Yes, he had
already paid that painful punishment.
A surgical procedure, where the patient had not
survived the intervention, was a severe enough reason to stay live in his
memory for long. Yes, he had operated drunk, but what choice did he have?
Anyway, he had been tried and convicted. The verdict was manslaughter and he was
incarcerated for three years for the crime, without any right for bail, due to his
act of negligence. He had duly paid his guilt in its entirety, despite the
reduction attempts, made by an expensive lawyer known by his expertise. The process
culminated with the loss of the license and the right to exercise the medical
profession, definitely.
Between the feelings of remorse and indignation,
he had buried everything inside his heart and restarted, on that island, away
from everyone he had known one day and that had abandoned him completely, while
he was imprisoned. There, in the island, he was a total stranger and his past
did not matter to anyone. What he liked in the community, was that he could
have his own private life and no one seemed interested in knowing more than
what he wanted to show. He had no interest in knowing about the lives of others
either. He had no time or curiosity about their histories anyway.
But towards the young man with no past, he felt
a genuine interest. Somewhere inside his soul and for a reason he did not
really care about, he felt he should help him out of that situation. In his
heart, he felt responsible for that boy, at least until he recovered his memory
and moved on with his own life.
***
The doctor came, as usual, on a pale cold Thursday
and called them to his office. He examined the boy and asked how he was feeling.
Then he asked him to sit down. By the way he started the conversation, he
seemed set to make a serious statement. He picked up a brown envelope from
inside his briefcase, cleared his throat out and said:
- I just received this Police
Report. I believe you will find it pretty interesting...
He handed the envelope in to the boy and waited
for his reaction. He opened it, read the report and handed it in to the
fisherman, so he could read it too. The doctor acknowledged that was a clear demonstration
of trust. The older man flipped through the few pages and returned the report
to its rightful owner.
- It does make sense. Do you
think that helps?
- I don’t know yet. For now,
there is nothing much I can say. It seems my memory is not instantly restored
simply by reading the report, after all. It does not work that way, no matter
how hard I try to do so.
The doctor finished a complete check-up and
dismissed himself from work, since there was no one else to be seen that day. He
invited the two men to go along with him to the Coffee Shop and chat a little
more relaxed.
The doctor knew that the heads of the two... and
his also... were working briskly. The coffee was just a subtle excuse to
discuss what they had just read and, besides that, he still had some time
before going back to the mainland that night…
***
The second part, version in English, with subtle differences, just to keep the rhythm going on. Mysteries and revelations. More to come...
ResponderEliminar