The Thirteenth (Part One)

- This is the thirteenth.

- Thirteenth? I did not think there were so many...

- See this spectacular specimen! It is stronger than the others.

- Should we work better on it? Their useful life is not very long, as far as we know.

- Yes, it's true. But this one seems to have more than the others do. Let's look at it more carefully. It is our responsibility to select only the best of the best and this one seems to be one of them. It will need more careful attention.

- The Supreme must know. Are we calling him or reporting directly?

- Neither. We're not going to do anything yet. We have to be absolutely sure before anything else. If we make a mistake now, the Supreme annihilates us and you know what happens next.

- I know and I do not like the thought of it. But we have to keep this secret just between us. We must separate it from the others or it will be discovered, before we can be sure of anything. It calls too much attention. If someone sees it…

- I have an idea. Let's take him to the Stellar Station. There it will be well analyzed and we will be able to check better all the details before it is ready. I know very well who will take great pleasure in helping us evaluate, investigate some details and even take care of him…err…it, in the meantime.

He looked seriously at the other man, who soon realized who he was speaking of.

- And what do we do with the others?

- The same as always. Soon they will be prepared, but they will have the same use of so many others, that were produced before them.

- We'd better hurry then, before somebody comes in here.

Better wait till everyone leaves. Meanwhile, we segregate these others and send them forward. We cannot arise any suspicions. If we take too long to dispatch them, the others will think there is something wrong happening in here. We must also complete the reports and confirm the count.

- I'll do that, so we can handle the rest of the things later.

- OK. I'm going to close the lab to make sure we have no inconvenient surprises. We'll be back later.

***

The day had begun normally, like every other, in a routine without surprises. The Stellar Station was virtually deactivated, with just a few features still working and had not been visited by many people so often, so it was easy for the two scientists to go unsuspected.

The Thirteenth was safe. They did not know for how long, however. They had to be steadfast before presenting it to the Supreme, or they knew they could be sent to one of the least significant lines. 

They had reached their positions within the structure because they were wise. They also knew that others before them, who had gone wrong in the selection, had been forgotten in the Glacial Station, on the other side of the planet, where the anomalies were studied and the vaccines for the next generations developed. Although it was an important job in the application, the conditions were restricted and uncomfortable. It was a rather cruel fate with a very short prospect for the future. It was the reward for the errors. A second error would be punished more severely.

The Supreme was rigid and devoid of feelings. Things had to work perfectly. As in a vintage wine, the selection was very judicious. Only the best could be sent to him, who would then approve, classify and define their destinies.

The two of them came together and went straight to the depressurizing room. After changing their uniforms for sterilized clothing, they went to the Council room where their hostess was awaiting. She received them with evident satisfaction.

- Well? What do you say about it?

- He's practically perfect. I've never seen one so well done and vigorous.

- Then we got it right. We can take him to the Supreme.

- You were right, yes. But there is a small, but workable, problem.

- Small…?

- Problem…?

They both looked at the woman, who smiled at them and as she got up, she asked them to accompany her.

***

- Workable? How can this be a workable problem? We will be damned...

- Calm down. I said it was workable, did not say he was presentable to the Supreme.

- And now? What will we do? If we are discovered, we will be in a dreadful trouble!

- Dreadful? Is that word still used?

The man laughed. The other looked confused. He had no idea where the colleague had taken that term from and was not going to ask. He was more concerned with how to solve their little “workable” problem.

The woman, with deep green eyes, spoke before being asked.

- We must get him out of this station, before anyone finds out we have him here. It will not be easy to hide him for long.

- And where can we take it to? We do not have many alternatives.

- Him… He’s not a thing… We have but a few alternatives. One is the Glacial Station. Someone who is there owes me a big favor.

- Oh. No. We cannot accept it.

- And what are you going to do? Take him to the Supreme? Leave him here?

- It's a very high risk. And we will not have guarantees that we will be successful.

- Let me handle this. He can never be brought back here, anyway, unless we find a way to sort this out. I’ll speak to the Supreme.

The two men did not know what to say. The woman had put them in check and they had no better alternatives.

***

- I cannot accept that, Leona. You know he's unpredictable and no less dangerous.

- He's my brother. I spared his life in the face of a crime punishable by death… or, at least, a life sentence. He will not hurt me. I need to talk to him.

- We have not heard of him in years... Why the urgency now?

- It's a personal reason.

- However personal it may be, he must not be brought back here.

- I will not bring him back here.

The Supreme did not like the idea, but he had a lot of respect and affection for the woman. He knew she was coherent and very responsible. He had endured her decisions and spared the life of her brother, who had murdered her lover, in front of her. He was sent to the Glacial Station, along with the scientists, who developed the vaccines created from the development of a prototype studied by their father.

- You know I do not like this idea at all. If anything happens to you, I'll be responsible.

- No. I'll be the only one to blame. I'm going to prepare for the transport.

Leona took the experiment with her and went where she was meant to solve the small problem, which was caused by another small problem. At the Glacial Station's transportation terminal, the alarm went off, announcing the arrival of visitors. A man with very deep blue eyes approached the room and waited a couple of seconds to see the woman he knew well materialize. Only she was not alone.

- Leona! What a great surprise! What good winds bring you here?

The chief scientist was still the same as he had been when he was in the main building. It had been his choice to move to the Glacial Station, so he would have time, distance from problems and inadequate questions, as well as space for his research, development and production of the vaccines.

Besides the young scientists who came with him, he had, under his wing, some workers brought from the cloning center and, to his agony, the only outcast he knew in that world. 

The man at the Station, by exile, was very different from the other individuals of that base and time. He seemed completely out of context and functions. But at least he was alive. The chief scientist kept him under constant surveillance, but the initial rebellion behavior had diminished over time. The man seemed much calmer than when he had been sent to the base and had adapted to the duties assigned to him. As time went on, he achieved the level of trust and confidence necessary to work in the logistics of shipping and storing the vaccines for the inhabited stations.

The chief scientist turned off the power field at the transport terminal and stepped forward.

- I see you brought someone over.

Leona smiled and greeted him, but there seemed to have a cloud upon her head and face.

- Look at this specimen. We first thought he was the most perfect sampling to be proud of, but look at this.

- Ah! I see.

- We could not take him to the Supreme, until we were absolute sure he was presentable and now we can no longer do it for this obvious reason. And leaving him there would be the same as admitting we had made a big mistake.

- And what can we do?

- I hoped you could help me decide. I have an idea and I need your help to put it into practice.

***

- I cannot accept it, Leona. It's very dangerous.

- But it's our only option… besides...

-The chief scientist's eyes widened. He could not admit the other alternative. He was trapped. Either he accepted one thing or another. In any case he was in check.

- I cannot take care of him. I have too much work to do. I'll have to find a way...

- I think that might be easy to deal with. The logistics manager owes me a favor.

- Oh. No. No. No.

The little man was afraid of the consequences. He could not accept such a responsibility.

- Let me handle this.

- Leona, that's very risky. If anything happens, we'll be both responsible.

- I know. But what can happen? We are dealing with something that does not exist, after all...

The man looked at the visitor with a little concern. She seemed too cold in the face of that problem. That was not the Leona he knew.

For some reason it seemed to him that there was something behind that mystery. He just hoped it was not a problem for him and his future at the Station. He considered his work and his position with great appreciation. He was not at the Glacial Station because he was banned or because of demerit, but by choice. The legacy of Leona's father, which had been improved throughout the ages, was his greatest pride. He was living proof that the vaccine was effective. 

And so was she.

The scientist, Leona and her brother, before all the others, have been the ones to test new versions of the vaccines voluntarily...

Now there was a mutation... a problem to be studied; a riddle he still did not know how to solve.

The old scientist looked at the clone and set it on the laboratory table. He unwrapped it completely from the sheet that housed it and said.

- Let us then try to unravel this mystery.

Leona smiled and said she was going to see her brother. She had things to deal with. She knew there was another alternative, but it was not time to mention it.

The old scientist came and went back to the object of his attention. He was no longer interested in the conversation Leona was going to have with her brother.

- So, my boy, how did this happen to you? Was it a side effect of the medications in your body?

The pale creature looked at the little man with quiet eyes and almost no expression shown on his face. The man began to examine the experiment and decided to take blood samples to analyze the mutations in his DNA. Before making any decision, he had to know what he was dealing with.

On the other side of the building, at the end of a long corridor, Leona had a very firm idea in mind, hoping it would work properly...

Stares (Final Part)

I no longer knew whether to believe in everything, anything or nothing at all, for I could not clearly distinguish when I was dreaming or when those things were really happening. For the sake of my sanity I decided to accept that there is a bit of truth in everything.

Although still somewhat clumsy by the effect of the medication, which ran in great quantity through my veins, blurring reality and confusing my perception, I read the message still open in my hand again and again.

"Don’t be afraid of what will come up for you in the future. Our minds are extremely powerful. A man who does not believe in anything, does not have many reasons to live.

You are not alone! We've always been around.

Come to the place where we met before as soon as you can. "

Although I considered the content quite intriguing and vague, that message, for some reason, seemed to bring a hidden meaning that I did not immediately understand.

*** 

For a few days I followed the diet, took my medications seriously, and committed myself to physiotherapy to speed my way out of that place. I knew it was imperative to get well soon. In those days, I was practically alone all the time and did not receive any visitors except for the nurses and the doctors, which, in a way, was a good sign.

Better left alone than...

I urgently needed to return to my quiet boring life and the less intrusion I would have during the recovery process, the better it would be. I took that lack of interference as a gift and tried to do my best to build up my strength and health as quickly as possible.

But the words, put that way in the message, would not leave my mind at ease...

***

- We had to leave you alone, so you could recover faster.

- I should have known there was something behind that apparent serenity...

- The final diagnosis was given. The doctor is on his way. We better leave you alone, now.

The doctor entered the small hospital room less than one minute after they left. I was sitting on the bed when he handed me a report and allowed me to read it before telling me anything.

***

I held the small dark wooden box in my hands, still closed, with an unusual affection. I was melancholic and that nostalgia made sense in the face of what I had just read. I sat down on the floor of the room and slid forward the thin cover, decorated with small and delicate arabesques, detaching it from the main body of the box and placing it near my leg.

My little travel souvenirs from other eras, lay dormant in the background covered with a fine burgundy velvet: a brown urchin, the fragile dried and empty flower petal shaped husk of a Physalis, a few seashells, two pebbles smoothed by the constant action of the river water, a bronze kitten, smaller than my thumb, a piece of scrolled paper given to me on the street by a stranger, where my favourite phrase was written,...

“Be careful of what you wish for, it might just come true"...

Funny that I had never noticed that there was a symbol drawn on the outside of the paper scroll, which was now familiar to me: a stylized eye. After a brief survey, I discovered that it was the symbol of knowledge. That made all sense…

On the bookshelf above my head, the mahogany shelves served as a frame for my collection of art books, where the life and work of Salvador Dalí stood out, not only because it was placed right in the centre, but because it was the most colourful and significant volume of all.

I thought of how my life fit into the few records left inside that small room, with the window facing the seaside.

So little in quantity and so much in emotional load... my living in this strange world...

I had decided to leave it all behind. Going away, that way, was a difficult decision, but it had to be done. I had not told anyone, and for all intents and purposes it was just another trip, like so many others… but it was not really that simple...

***

My soul was heavy, as if a very dark shadow hung over me, in spite of the warm and sunny day and the sky being almost as clear as my prospects for the future.

The piece of paper, with the most important information of my life, was still in my fingers. My gaze was lost in the horizon. The sea roared against the great rocks at the corner of the beach. It seemed to want to challenge me to face the great secret.

My mind came back in time a little to rekindle the memory of the decisive moment...

***

I read the report, with the diagnosis, in deep silence. There was not much doubt for interpretation. I looked up and saw that the doctor was staring at me very seriously, unable to hide the worry in his face.

- Any doubt?

- Only one. How long, I still have?

- It's hard to tell. In brain damages caused by clots this size, there is no way to give an accurate answer. It may be just days... Since we cannot operate, everything depends on the patient... We've had cases...

He stooped the sentence halfway. My expression told him, clearly, that I was not interested in other cases...

- Got it. Was that the reason for the hallucinations?

He smiled lightly. That sad smile made me feel completely lost and unsupported. How many times had he had to do the same procedure, knowing that the control over the lives of his patients was not in his hands, after all...

I stood up, shook his hand, and walked slowly out along the bright corridor where the morning sunlight coming in from the rectangular windows sketched obtuse geometric figures on the walls.

Inside, I felt a huge void, like nothing ever before.

***

The shrill lament of a solitary seagull brought me back immediately to the present and I broke my silence.

- We spend an entire lifetime searching for the purpose and the reason why we are here and now, without realizing that the true meaning of life is simply to live! There is no reward, no eternal life, no heaven and no hell...

- But for many, it is so much easier to "believe" in an all-powerful, over-manipulated truth and to live a big lie, which makes them happy, hopeful and lighter.

- If on the one hand it is simple, on the other hand it is extremely complicated, because we only realize that we had not enjoyed the best life can offer, when we have lost almost everything.

- Eternity is just a concept. The intensity of what we live is far more important than anything else...

The man with ginger hair and dark blue eyes, sitting next to me, faced me and stared into my eyes once more. Then, standing up, he lightly touched my shoulder, turned and left me sitting there following his walk away from me with sad eyes. Before disappearing behind the little sand dune, he turned around and waved. From afar, his eyes, although it was perhaps and only my impression, glowed with that power it did on the first time. He moved his lips and I, at that moment, fully realized what he meant.

I tore the paper into very small pieces, several times, and opened my hands, letting the wind carry away those tiny white confetti, tainted by the black fragments of the printer ink, which no longer had the same force of a few seconds ago, when the letters made words and those, brought together, composed one of the most difficult information my reason had to digest.

I got up and walked to the car which was parked next to the little restaurant. As I entered, the woman seated in the shadow of a large red and white umbrella rose and came toward me, walking steadily on top of her stiletto heels and defying the notion of balance. The elegant suit and the way she kept her hair lined up in a bun on the top of her attractive head gave me a sense that beauty, despite being a very personal concept, was a reality that always made me feel so peaceful. She opened the passenger door and said, smiling:

- Are you ready? Let's go?

I smiled, lightly, without saying anything. I just turned the key in the ignition and drove the car out of the parking lot.

In my mind, the message mumbled so many times by the redheaded man, was still evident and kept repeating in my memory, over and over again.

"You're not alone!"...

I had always believed, however, that in reality, from the beginning to the end of our lives, we had always been alone...

I adjusted the rear view mirror to check if the transport case in the back seat was securely fastened to the seat belt. The cat, an ordinary European tabby, was dozing calmly in it.

Maybe they're right, after all…

Stares (Part 4)

- Let’s talk about serious things.

- It's more than time for us to talk seriously...

He leaned forward and began to speak. I was listening attentively and could not help but be impressed by what that red-haired man said.

***

- We're all prisoners here.

- What do you mean? Prisoners?

- Haven’t you realized that everything we do has a consequence? We are prisoners of our wills, our vices and our fears.

- That's just rhetoric...

- Is that so? I know you like that phrase. And it's the truth.

- Which one?

He smiled. I knew what phrase he was talking about but, as usual, I wanted him to be clear and specific. I always needed a confirmation on such things.

- You know... ah, you know... and you know it very well!

I smiled. He would not be fooled at all.

- What harm is there in wishing? If the desire is really strong... if we truly believe it...

- That's where the danger lies... Luckily, not everyone believes hard enough to make things happen... "if you have faith as small as a mustard seed” …

I laughed, somewhat disconcerted. I did not expect him to quote a sentence like that.

- You must know that I do not support transcendental things, nor follow any religion. This phrase, however, makes more sense than you can imagine.

- Just like my favourite one, I guess... But I did not expect a quote like this from someone who calls himself a "non-follower" of religions.

- We both know that it was men in their early days who created their gods, to compensate for their ineptitude in explaining the natural phenomena, giving them romantic names, and thus attributing superpowers to the forces of the universe.

And he started a long lecture on how religions were created and how the manipulation of knowledge, by the most erudite, rich and clever men was able to cross the ages and impose fear on those who could not - or should not - become aware of the truth.

- Men have been deceived all this time, led to believe the biggest lie of all, trying to find a reason to live their insipid lives and save their sinful souls. If they knew how powerful they were, above this whole bunch of lies, they would have changed the course of history for once and for all...

- On the other hand, not believing in anything can be even more dangerous. See what happens to the world, when people have nothing to believe in or are simply lost, without faith and without direction. They are not afraid of any impunity, they have no conscience and feel no guilt at all. See the chaos the world ended up becoming, with the most absurd and heinous crimes being committed not only by one man against the other but also against their own selves. We have never had so many homicides or suicides like we have nowadays. Our world has changed for worse…

- In a world where access to information is so easy and immediate, the false truths and the meaningless news with no depth at all are spread with the speed of a wind-blown fire in the dry grass. Few people still have patience to read newspapers, but everyone believes in what they read on these so celebrated and famous social networks. Something needs to be done urgently.

- But I'm too small to bring about any change that might be considerable...

- Are you really that small?

***

I'd never thought of those things that way. It was rather sad, complex and profound, though very true and credible.

The sound of a strange and intermittent beep began to annoy my head as he held out his hand to me and said:

- It's time to get back to the other side...

I looked at the end of that tangle of tunnels, in a very bright gallery, each with a different kind of exit, where people dressed in black were coming and going. He led me to one of the crossing terminals and told me that from then on I had to go alone, but that everything was going to be alright...

I confess I was somewhat afraid when I saw the shiny black car parked outside, but when its door was opened, I had the sensation I was being drawn out, with unexpected violence, by the powerful suction of an immense vacuum cleaner, in the direction of a very bright light.

The beeps sounded louder, more intermittent and in faster pace.

I kept my eyes shut, but I knew I had to face the facts. I felt a strange heat flushing my face and I slowly opened my eyes. A very strong light still seemed to blind me, but as I blinked, the misshapen figures around it slowly went into focus.

A few seconds later I heard a pleasant voice I knew already. The sweet beautiful shape of the woman in white became clearly visible, to my contentment.

‘Ah… a familiar face after all’...

I smirked and she smiled back at me, as I said:

- It's good to see you again.

She looked at me with patient caring eyes and spoke very gently.

- You've just gotten out of the coma you've been in since you had the car accident. You had been in that state for several months.

- But I left the hospital, right after then... We had met after that and we had even talked quite a bit...

- Maybe in your dreams. It is normal to have very realistic dreams in some unconscious states. But now everything's going to be all right. You just need to take the medications and do the physiotherapy very strictly. In a short time you will return to your former normal life...

'This is impossible! This cannot be happening. I think I'm in a recurring nightmare...'

- And how about my friend? Did he come and visit me, at least?

- What friend? You did not have any visitors.

- The one who always dresses in black clothes...

She laughed and pulled the sheet over my body, covering me up to my chest. She adjusted the intravenous drug flow, asked me to stay calm and quietly left the room.

I closed my eyes, half numbed by the effect of the painkillers. I felt like falling into a bottomless well, in slow motion, I do not know for how long.

***

From the corner of the room, a man dressed in black kept his stare set on me.

- I left an important message for you inside the drawer. You will recognize the symbol drawn on the folded paper.

I tried to think, but felt very tired suddenly and then I simply closed my eyes.

***

When I opened my eyes again, there was no one but me in the small hospital room. I tried to hear through the silence, to be sure I was really alone.

With a little effort, I opened the drawer at the bedside and searched for anything left there, but found nothing but a grey covered New Testament left by the Missionary Gideons. I thought I was in constant hallucination. I should have known I had another dream...

I was thirsty and needed some water and looked around. There was a plastic bottle of mineral water on the table. Beside it, there was an ordinary glass. I tried to move and reach both, but as I could not hold the bottle tightly, it fell off with a dry roar, rolling along the floor.

- What the hell!

- Calm down. I can help.

- What? How did you…?

She picked up the bottle and kindly poured me some water, which I drank with unusual pleasure. I had the impression I had not drunk pure water in a long time.

She then sat in a chair, crossed her legs and adjusted the coat of a modern, very elegant, dark grey tweed suit she was wearing. She ran her hand through her hair, bringing a lock of dark hair behind her right ear and making sure the bun was securely tied back at the top of her head.

I was still astonished, staring at her, who spoke to me, smiling:

- You can close your mouth now... You look very surprised to see me here.

- Of course I am. I did not see when you came in... I thought I was alone here.

- You are never alone.

She grinned. Impressive how she looked so full of herself... and, depending on what she was doing there, she was maybe, too, the mistress of my destiny...

- You did not search hard enough. You should have opened the book...

At that right moment, the door was opened and the nurse came back in. Visibly annoyed, she spoke firmly and directly to the other woman.

- The visit hours are over. He needs to rest now.

The woman got up and approached the bed, patting my hand with a friendly gesture.

- I'll be back another day, with more time. We still have a lot to talk about...

She scrutinized the nurse, looking into her eyes and left without saying another word. The nurse however did not seem to be upset by the confrontation, especially because the other woman complied with the set hospital rules.

- If you’re okay tomorrow, we'll take the Intravenous off and start with the physiotherapy sessions.

- OK.

When she left, I opened the drawer and fetched the grey covered booklet, freely distributed by the missionaries, with the intention of providing spiritual comfort to the illnesses of body and soul. I searched through the very fine pages to confirm the information I had just received. A small folded note had been left in the middle of the book, where the Psalm 91 was printed. I recognized the symbol drawn from the outside, as soon as I laid my eyes on the paper.

I began to open the note with trembling fingers. My heart missed a beat and I felt a discomfort in my stomach, like the sensation we have when we are scared or when we must go through an unpleasant situation.

It was time to face the truth...

Stares (Part 1)

I do not like social occasions. I really dislike gatherings, cocktail parties and happy hours. I can tolerate a dinner with friends, but just with no more than a few people. The noise of a lot of people talking, especially if they are loud, bothers me. I can open exceptions, but they would be very scarce.

On one of these rare occasions, I was at a painting vernissage, invited by one of the artists, a friend of long date, who was participating in a show like that for the first time, after much insistence of his friends and acquaintances. He did not think his artwork was mature enough to become public, but everyone insisted that his paintings were very good and he eventually gave in. I had to agree that there was still a long way to go for what he might call "mature", but they were far better than many of the other artworks on display there.

I accepted the invitation to give him the support new artists need and also to break my own preconceived taboos and ideas about going out on a weekday evening. I had already decided that I would stay just long enough to be noticed by my friend and give him some public support, but I knew he would be quite busy with the other guests and would not be upset if I left early. He knew that my presence at such events could already be considered a rarity, so he would not be disappointed if I went home before the end of the event.

I glanced over at the group of people present, pacing back and forth, leisurely, pretending they liked what they were seeing, as if they knew more than they did of modern art. The wine was of good quality, but nothing exceptional. The food was good, but not luxurious or overly sophisticated. The purpose of the catering was not to keep the guests focused on eating, but to create the atmosphere of a certain formality.

I was feeling displaced, as almost always, among strangers. I would rather be at home listening to music, reading, or just playing with the cat. But one has to support a friend every now and then...

Someone bumped into me and some white wine spilt on the sleeve of my coat. A meagre apology and a strategic leaving me alone followed my awkward 'it’s all right'. It was, definitely, not all right. I set the glass down on a table and tried to go to the bathroom and quickly wash the wine from my coat so it would not do any more damage it had already done.

On my way back, determined to leave the place immediately, I sought out my artist friend in order to bid him farewell, but he was busy with a group of women who were laughing loudly and not discreetly.

- Rookies!

I thought and said that aloud.

For some reason my eyes were drawn towards the staircase that led to the mezzanine, where there were a few other paintings exposed. A man dressed in black was staring at me and seemed to smile. I was not sure if it was for me, but a shiver ran up my spine. He had a glass of red wine in his hand and lifted it, as if toasting with me. I looked back, but there was no one around who he could be looking at in the same direction. When I turned back again, he was gone. I looked around, but I could not find him.

'Strange thing', I thought. 'Why did he look at me like that? This cannot be normal or I must be really drunk.'

I left the place right away.

My annoyance did not last long. On my way home, I no longer thought about that little incident and went back to my normal state. I do not like driving and the traffic makes me tense, so I try not to think too much when I'm in the car.

Back at home, I was happy with my normal solitude and usual my hermit condition. I got rid of my formal clothes and put on my old pajamas, ready to go to bed. I almost forgot that the sleeve of my coat needed to dry right before being hung back in the closet, so as soon as I finished brushing my teeth and got ready for bed, I walked back into the living room and laid it on the back of a chair.

I fell asleep so fast I did not even have time to think about anything else. I did not even notice when the cat climbed onto bed and lay down at my feet...

***

He lifted the glass of red wine and smiled. I tried to look away, but I could not. There was something in his gaze that I felt intriguing and at the same time frightening. He moved his lips, as if to say something, but I did not hear any sound. What was he trying to tell me? Would it be important? What does he want from me?

Someone passed in front of me and that distraction broke my eye contact. When I looked back, he was not there anymore.

‘Déjà vu’

"This has happened before," I said aloud.

- But not this way...

I had a fright. I did not expect anyone to hear me.

The man dressed in black, next to me, offered me a glass of red wine, without saying anything else. I took the glass and brought it to my lips, keeping eye contact with him. 

He smiled in a strange way.

I realized that something was wrong and looked at the contents of the goblet, which fell out of my hand, as soon as I realized it was something else...

The dense, red blood in it splashed across the floor and onto my clothes as the crystal broke into millions of pieces against the dark granite of the floor.

I woke up with a shriek, sweating and panting like an animal after a long run.

- Shame! That was just a dream…

I had not thought about how that little incident had left such a strong mark on my subconscious, coming back to life during my sleep...

***

Going back to my routine, the day after, was enough to keep my mind busy with work and my normal chores, at least until the evening. Sometimes, however, when I was distracted, I had the sensation of seeing those eyes peeking from somewhere, but I concluded that it was just a mere impression... Just a game the mind plays...

When I left the office, I rushed to the metro station. I never used to go to the city center by car, because of the difficulties of finding places and also because of the cost of parking. It was much more practical to use the subway system. It worked very well and, besides being very practical, was also quite efficient and inexpensive.

I went downstairs and walked to the platform, which was already quite busy, at that hour of the afternoon. It's funny to watch the passers-by coming in and out of the vehicles and imagine where they are going to and where they come from, with their stories, their problems, their joys, their desires...

I was looking vaguely at a couple of women who were talking enthusiastically in front of me when the vehicle arrived on the opposite platform. My attention was naturally directed to that side and I kept watching the people moving in and out until the group of carriages left, as quickly as they came. The character dressed in black and staring at me, caused me an obvious discomfort. I was out of action for a few seconds, until I realized he bowed his head and moved his lips as if he were telling me something. I frowned, but did not respond. The subway car stopped in front of me and the focus of my attention was soon diverted. I walked into the vehicle and looked out the window, but I saw no one on the opposite platform. I had not been wrong. 

He was there and I was feeling I was being chased.

- What the hell was that? Again…

The girl, standing next, laughed at me, when she noticed I was talking to myself.

***

- Why do you wear that awful sleeping shirt?

- What the f…? How do you…

The voice on the other end of the telephone line was hoarse, almost provocative, as if the caller wanted only to show that he knew what he was talking about, but did not want to cause an unnecessary commotion.

The lights were off and I could not remember wearing that piece of clothing before coming into the bedroom, ready for bed. The curtains were closed, so I did not immediately understand how anyone would know that I was dressed in that striped shirt of various colors, which I myself admitted was ridiculous, but it was very comfortable to sleep after all.

I did not turn on the lights. I rolled over to the side and searched for some strange light, like the one that reveals a hidden camera, but I did not see any. How that creature knew what was going on inside my room? I sat on the bed without turning the lights on. The cat jumped from the foot of the bed where it was nestled and stared at me walking toward the door, lit by the faint clarity of the phone I held.

- Do not let the kitten run out of water. He must be thirsty.

- What? What kind of joke is this?

The sign that the line disconnecting followed and to my surprise the cat returned to the room, but did not lie down. He made a move as if to leave, as he did when he wanted something, and I followed him into the kitchen. He stopped and looked at me, sitting on the blue carpet, where the bowl of water was, empty, to my utter astonishment.

I filled it up and also a large empty glass of instant coffee that I always kept full of water on the sink, wondering how they had emptied, if nobody but me had access to the apartment. I shook my head, as if dismissing a bad thought and went back to bed, unwilling to think about it or I would not sleep.

Six minutes after lying down, not exactly to my surprise, the phone rang again...

I heard the heavy breathing on the other side of the line. The same hoarse voice spoke, quietly but firmly.

- I hope I have convinced you that we have things to talk about. We should meet tomorrow at lunchtime. Do not miss...

- But where?

- Do not worry about it...

***