Lying silently on the couch and staring at a non-existent
spot on the ceiling, the young man tried to organize his thoughts, after all he
had seen, heard and, of course, read. Despite the stillness of the night, his mind
was working boisterously, like the teeth of dry and rusty gears, grinding
against each other, in a fertile field of conflicting ideas. It was quite late,
but he could not sleep, try as he might.
According to what was written in the police
report, a witness had seen him being assaulted and thrown into the back seat of
a car, which took off at high speed, many hundreds of kilometres away from that
place. What happened after then was still unknown.
He was trying hard to remember something, once
that Police Report and the information contained in it did not ring any bell in
his tired head. In fact, it all seemed very surreal to be true. Despite having
the thoughts so uneasy and restless, he kept on trying to rescue anything that he
could from his long-term memory. All he could do, however, was to imagine
alternative possibilities of what had happened, but without any real basis. The
thin, fragile thread of memory was inexplicably broken at some point and he
could not find the parts to tie them together again.
In fact, he did not even know who he was. He could
be either good or bad. He could have been a victim or he could have had a very
bad luck and been on the wrong place at the wrong time. He could have clashed
with someone stronger than him. He could have been really assaulted by robbers.
Or he could not be any of that, as bizarre as it might be...
The fatigue and fruitless effort made him
finally fall asleep and dream...
***
In the only room of the small and modest house,
built on the beachfront, the fisherman rolled from one side to the other in its
simple, old dark and tough wooden bed, unable to fall asleep. His mind was also
distressed, especially after the more informal conversation they had with the
doctor. The investigation continued, based on the report issued by the police,
but he had a feeling that something was not right. By default, he did not use
to trust his intuition, but that time he felt something very strong and could
not help but hear that voice in his head telling him to sift through the facts
more thoroughly and not rely firmly on all he had read so far.
Of course a possible witness was better than
nothing, but he preferred to rely on what his guest could remember in his own
time, to make sure they were not mistaken. That situation was increasingly
harrowing.
He had developed a wholehearted affection for
the boy and find out the truth and regaining his memory, once and for all,
become his priorities. He felt that the most likely to happen, once it was
recovered, was that the young man would go back to his own life and leave the
island, perhaps forever, and that almost certainty also afflicted him.
But he had to think with his reason and not with
his heart. As silly as it seemed, however, assess the heart was exactly what he
had been doing lately, every time he was alone with his own thoughts. From an
elusive fisherman with only the almost imperceptible company of his old silent
feline friend, he now had a welcome partner, either to chat with or to help him
at work and it seemed fun to both. Although he liked the boy's assistance, he could
not be selfish and think about what he liked or wanted for himself only. He
felt he would lose his buddy, sooner or later, as soon as things would go back
to normal. But he could not help wishing they would keep the friendship, at
least for a while.
Like everything else in life, the distance would
invariably cool that relationship down and ward off gradually until their
contacts disappear for once and for good. He admitted he would really miss the
guy, who would probably go back to his previous life, as soon as he recovered
his memory. Perhaps he had a girlfriend, a family and possibly a dog or two.
He, on the other hand, had only his hut, his cat
and his old fishing boat... and absolutely no other life to go back to. He decided
his fate and was living with it. He had learned to survive with very little and
did not need more, living just one day after another, without thinking of a
very distant future.
He, however, was no longer so sure if that simple
and dull life was enough for him anymore. He knew only that before knowing the
tenant who was fast asleep on the sofa, he had given up many ambitions and did not
crave more than what he presently owned.
But now he wanted to know more about the other
man, maybe see him succeed in life, witness his success and perhaps meet his
girlfriend, witness his getting married and having children with funny and
unruly hair like their father. Perhaps he could even be a dear and welcome friend
to that new family...
What a stupid nonsense! He was just an old and
thick fisherman with almost nothing to do with the boy’s life. What would be
the use of deceiving himself and thinking he could be, in the future, part of
his life?
Had he changed so much in those last days? An
incident like that should not tinker that much with his routine and his life. He
had better face the harsh reality: he would soon go back to his lonely, sullen
and distant man’s life with almost no expectations regarding his own future.
The man mocked himself. He was getting old and
corny. That withered and hardened heart should not have softened so much, in just
a few weeks. He had been so used to his old solitude that he had forgotten the
pleasures of a good company. Now, he felt - or rather resented – he would have
to go back to being alone when the other's presence, although so recent in his
routine, brought more colour to his existence...
He suddenly felt sad. He was tired of thinking.
Actually, he was tired of so many things... He closed his eyes, which were
getting, for what he considered a silly reason, as damp as the delicate petals
of the flowers, which become moist with dew in the autumn mornings. He fell
asleep... and soon began to dream...
***
- The water is so good and
fresh... Come swim to me.
- You’re crazy! It is too cold!
- It is not cold at all. It is
good... Come to me.
The boy was calmly swimming around the boat, challenging
his girlfriend to dive and swim with him in that immense and quiet ocean.
Although the sun was high, he knew that the water temperature was too cool for
her. For him, however, it was perfect. She did not believe him, anyway. She
just waved, threw him an inflatable mattress and his sunglasses and lay on a
towel on the deck, to sunbathe. He took the mattress and lay down on it,
floating serenely between the intensity of the almost cobalt blue sky and the emerald-green
ocean, letting himself be pleasantly rocked by the waves and with his thoughts
wandering far away. He felt drowsy and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost
immediately.
Suddenly, that comfy swaying of his sleep seemed
to change to a more agitated and violent state. The boy turned involuntarily
around, lost his balance and fell overboard. The clash with the water made him fully
awake and in a complete state of confusion. He felt he was sinking in the cold,
salty waters and that his breath escaped him quickly. He tried to swim, but the
movement of the waves was very violent. He swallowed water and felt weak. A
pain in the back of his head caused him some discomfort and when he ran his
fingers over it, he saw that he was bleeding. He tried to stay on the surface,
but the effort was too much. He knew that if he stayed with his face in the
water he would drown, so he tried to float on his back. The cold water would
help ease the pain in the head. He closed his eyes and let himself go for a few
minutes, struggling to swim, but the waves were cruel. One of them splashed
over him and, swallowing water, he felt he was sinking. He struggled, but it
seemed to be in vain. His lungs were flooded and he felt he was too tired to
hold on. He felt his forces were waning. He had finally accepted his fate and let
himself sink slowly...
He thought, as he sank, he was too young to
die... The air failed him. It was death encircling him in a cold embrace, with
more affection than he expected. The boy still thought before fainting, that
the idea he had of death was of a much harder agony than that...
A flash of light lit up above him, in a sudden
and his only thought was that the popular legend that there was a very bright light
when passing from life to death, was true. That light, so intense and very
strong, hit his eyes in full. At that moment he felt an unexpected peace and a
comfortable warmth...
He opened his eyes and saw, through the sun rays
coming through the living room window, the familiar silhouette of the tabby,
sitting quietly on the faded moss-green window frame. The cat looked out,
enjoying the morning sun that was rising above the horizon, on a very clean and
intense blue, as only the winter sky could be. That would be a beautiful day
after all... and also quite cold.
The young man realized that he had had only a
very vivid and detailed dream after all. He smiled, got up, dressed quickly and
went to the kitchen, followed by the cat, who rubbed into his legs, almost making
him lose his balance and trying to get some cuddling or food.
***
The man got up as usual and passing through the
room, he did not see the boy lying on the couch. Surprised and intrigued that
the balcony door was unlocked, he put on a coat and went out. The boy was
walking slowly, a few meters from the shore, more and more into the ocean. He
watched, for a moment, to see what would happen. Despite the temperature of the
water, he went on as if it were high summer. He never looked back or hesitate.
He seemed intent on something that the other man did not notice at first. He
went as far as the water hit him over his chest, took a few more steps and
submerged in silence.
A bad feeling went through the fisherman's
spine. His instinct shouted, louder than his reason. He got rid of his jacket,
took off his shirt and shoes and ran into the icy sea waters. The adrenaline
that ran intensely through his body did not allow to feel the cold tensing his
muscles. Unable to spot the boy, he dipped into the freezing waters of the
ocean. He saw a shadow ahead, looking like the body sinking slowly and swam in
that direction, emerging for breath and diving again in order to rescue his
protégé.
The man did not think at all. He just acted,
moved by despair and the fear of losing his friend to an enemy whose weapons he
was unable to fight against. He approached and tried to reach the other's arms,
which were stretched upward, already unresponsive. He clutched his fingers
around the other's wrists and pulled him up with energy, so that the body would
emerge and enable the rescue and also to allow some air get into his lungs. He
pushed the boy upwards so he reached the water's surface.
Emerging himself, he put his arm around the unconscious
young man's chest, keeping his mouth and nose above the water line. He
straightened up and began to swim, taking his friend along back to the beach,
almost without difficulty. He laid the man on his back and started the cardiopulmonary
resuscitation, immediately, in a desperate attempt to bring him back to life.
- Why did you do that? Where
were you thinking?
The man did not understand the reason for such
mindless action... And now he could not bring him back to life. He held his
nose, opened his mouth and blew some air into, going back to massage the boy’s chest.
- Come on! Come on! Wake up, man.
Don’t you die on me! Please!
He repeated the procedure, this time blowing
harder in. By pushing his chest with both hands, he noticed a sort of
convulsion and the boy coughed, expelling the water he had swallowed. The man
shook him and saw that he opened his eyes, confused, as if unsure of what had
just happened.
The fisherman raised him, hugging him and,
without saying anything, just cried, feeling a mixture of relief and joy. Just
below the breast line, a strange twinge of pain indicated that something was
wrong.
He closed his eyes and loosened his embrace,
feeling a kind of a faint. The effort could have been perhaps too much for him
to bear. The twinge became more piercing and seemed to move with a pressure up
his chest.
A cold sensation on his nose and a slight and
continuous snoring, made him open his eyes and notice the deep green eyes of
the cat staring at his eyes and pressing a nail at his chest. He laughed and
stood up, realizing he had just had an absolutely unusual dream.
***
- I
had a very strange and detailed dream.
- Is that the reason why you are
up so early?
- It's not so early. It's
almost time to get out to sea. I have made some coffee...
- I also had an unusual dream.
I think we were impressed by the report that the doctor brought us...
- Most likely…
- Do you want to talk about
it?
- No, not yet...
***
When they came back from the morning chores at
the sea, on a sunny Thursday, a few weeks later, they noticed a different movement
on the pier routine. There was a greater buzz than in normal days. The matron was
coming by with heavy steps on the wooden pier. Her flushed rosy face, severely
hit by the sun and wind of winter, showed evident signs of anxiety. As she
approached the two, she said, half breathless:
- I'm glad you came. The
doctor wants to see you both immediately.
- What happened?
- The doctor told me to bring you
two urgently. Do not ask me more than I know...
But they knew her well and realized that she
avoided looking at them directly. She was hiding something, for sure, but she had
been instructed not to tell them anything other than the absolutely necessary.
The two men nodded at each other and quickened their pace behind the panting
woman toward the office in the small health centre of the island.
When they arrived, they were received by the
doctor, who was accompanied by an unknown man, dressed in a very formal way for
the island routine. The visitor greeted them with a handshake and by turning
his attention to the boy, asked him:
- Do you know who I am?
- Nope. I do NOT know you.
Should I?
The man smiled, in a weird way. The boy and the
fisherman tried to hide the concern that had passed down their faces, when they
looked at each other.
The stranger cleared his throat and spoke up...
***
