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Two
minutes is nearly half nothing
…
Do
you know how the world is beyond that mountain?
Edgar
was the only one who knew … There was a telly …
I
will
kill you…
unless
you switch to Zotran mobile … I already know what I want for
my birthday … What?! You don’t even have a phone
…The
world beyond that mountain. I want to learn
…The
only thing I had learned was to envy my playmates … Roger …
I just stood there staring at him during school break
…
He reminded me of a hero cut out of one of those films
…
The bus stop … is a waypoint … a journey to a better
world, perhaps the one I can find only in my dream …
I
look behind, but no sign of him … I’d had something for
all eternity …
and
it is lost! … He picks up a scribble pad. I’ve got
nothing to tell…
Edgar
was right. I was still a child; I had teenhood, quarter age, middle
age, full age left. I just ignored I would be needing it very soon,
to tell my feats, my sorrows, my ramblings… How to start? I
wrote: “Today we’re leaving home. Somehow I’m here
trying to capture this place in my mental chamber, and all my friends
are waiting downstairs to say goodbye… I’ll miss them.”
This is worthless, I say to myself. Not true — just my first
writer’s block! “I’m coming!”
One
of the girls was peeking up the corner in the middle of the stairs
and started jumping the minute I was seen, having told the others I
was coming. Edgar was already with them, next to Candice Cow, who was
wearing a white folded gown which seemed to be wore for the first
time in the last ten years. Closer to the stairs were Helen Hen and
Nancy Nanny — one was short and chubby, the other tall and
skinny, and while the other was hiding in her redness, the other had
composed her curly locks with a frame of thin green lace.
The
girl peeking up the stairs earlier was Barbara Bitch, and she was
known as my closest friend. Being only two years older than me, she
knew nearly everything there was about me, much as I knew about her.
She was wearing the fanciest dress — pale brown, slightly
darker than her beautiful hair.
What
about me? Well, personally I was wearing my debuting black-tacked
parka, now barely dragging on the floor. But in the hearts and minds
of those around me (except for Edgar) I was wearing my favourite red
frock. It would still not successfully bare my knees, so I had never
got to use it. Nevertheless, I was still bringing it with me. Edgar
used to tell the city was cold, but who knows? You never really get
the chance to flee from your dreams, right?
“Word
of mouth says you’re leaving.”
It
was Barbara talking. I had no idea what to say, we had no idea what
to say. Someone stepped into the hall.
“Good
morning, y’all!”, whinnied Miriam Mare. As Candice
greeted her, I quite flinched at her sight. She had this large white
gown she had shown me once, and the whiteness of it almost made her
bigger. She was clearly my eldest sister, perhaps even a mother. Her
black hair crept in and out of the dress with her gestures, as if she
was a large spiky rose bush. She immediately went closer to Edgar.
They would always have something to discuss.
Miriam
was wearing a pale blue blouse. She was barely holding still, even
though she had peacefully walked from her house to ours. She was also
wearing a pair of lace shoes, wrapping closely around her small
stubby feet. I knew nothing about her, but she used to visit our
house every morning.
But
today was a special day. Everyone was here to say goodbye. I’ve
told no one, Edgar said, just when Helen was clucking we should have
thrown a… maybe a party, she would say. Nancy was looking at
me the same way I was looking at her. She wanted to say something,
but I guessed her golden curls were keeping her busy. Finally,
Barbara threw her arms around me and burst into tears. Her hair
enveloped my face, and I heard her moaning, “You shouldn’t
do this. I won’t be able to make it here without you.”
“Will
you? I raised my head to Nancy, and then to Helen, who admitted she
would too. Nancy just gazed at me, then at the latter, and said,
“What?”
It
was a nice day to have a walk, too hot for initiating a journey.
Miriam gave to Edgar the CheckMe’s, the train tickets and a
map. It would be safer to buy the bus ones on board. He picked our
bag and left. Or was about to leave, when Jennifer Jenny, not Eve
Ewe, passed in front of the chateau.
“What
are those bags for?” Jennifer brayed. We’re leaving, I
said to her.
Hadn’t
anyone told her? “No one should have anyway,” Edgar said.
So she embraced my head, and as I felt like wanting to sneeze with
the smell of nearly a thousand onions, she whispered to me, “Have
a nice one!” Before I could even think of what to infer from
that one-liner, she had already left. Eve was waiting for us at the
village border, and so I said goodbye to my family, animals and farm,
so I would go with the one man who had the path to follow written in
his corest brains.
[The
whole family gathered to say goodbye]
Oh,
I’m tired of leaving this chapter unfinished! And I’m
also tired for other reasons. I don’t. Wanna. Die out. In these
pages — I must insist. But how? I guess going straight on
through to the end of the damn thing isn’t really my thing, but
we’ll only know when we get to it.
Way
back then, I would think I’d never be able to love again. Once,
I read a story about this blonde, thorough, beautiful man who
wouldn’t even nudge in his logic pedestal. And such elegance!
He was quite the guy… Well, one day this woman appears in his
life. She’s married, ok? But he keeps it for a whole decade
until the day her husband passes away. They’d never exchanged
more than a handshake yet they kept their love through letters and
Sunday dinners at his great aunt’s. So he didn’t think
twice when he decided to abandon his place for a few months, as his
loved one mourned the death of her husband. Me, I didn’t need
to read any further!
I
was so wrong… but it is good to mourn for the people you loved
after they suddenly disappear. Give it time, I used to think back
then. “When love is gone, where does it go? Where do we go?”
To the city, of course. But why? I will leave that up to you…
I
was a simple girl, I knew nothing about the city, except for the
hints Edgar had given me. Why had I convinced Edgar to take me there?
He hated her; I should have hated her too! But I was too bold, too
intrepid, too unfamiliarized…
The
same couldn’t be said about Edgar. He was as hardboiled as no
character can get, a one-of-a-kind personality you could never tell
when he’s wronged you. And yet that type one would set her
heart worth losing for, because deep within you trust all your
patience, your empathy to have this place close to his heart, away
from his mind.
I
was so lost in my thoughts I paid no attention to what Eve talked
with Edgar on the bus. She almost had to shake me up when she said
“Safe journey!” so she could hear one goodbye from me, as
we left the bus to enter the railway station. Eve gave him a firm
handshake, and so we departed. If there was anyone Edgar loved, that
would be me — he wasn’t just doing this out of pity. Of
all the people we left behind, maybe Candice loved me the most. But
Edgar had chosen me instead. Yes, he loved me like no father ever
could.
Our
train was this steel-made mole with a red nose poking out a hole
wide-opened in the railway station wall. Edgar passed our tickets on
the boarding gate, then we took our seats inside.
“Oh,
here comes the conductor. Here and… here. Anything wrong,
sir?”
“Issues
did rotten in Lego casino pie friends…”
“Indeed!”
“Paris
reviewer to-do cami parts lender a LA prima feel Matt? Dishwasher
raccoon e’en particular?”
“Umm,
it’s my daughter’s birthday. We’ve got some
sightseeing to do.”
“Extract
sweep? Some channels turned shoes Nina?”
“Sorry,
she doesn’t speak Lite. It’s her fourteenth anniversary.”
Venus
company’s casino! Quite bout a very quite sure bever put to…”
Needless
to say, I couldn’t pay much attention to what those two
tongue-wagged, but I got the feeling he’d come again.
“Do
you think six hours of traveling is a bit too much?”
“Six
hours? Wow, I…”
“Great!
You’re yawning, now. Why don’t you get some sleep while
you can?”
“In
that case…”
“All
of a sudden, the previous man came with two other women wearing the
same uniform. They sang their “Venus casino’s to me and
then Edgar told me they were inviting us to seat in the First Class
carriage, to which he irreprehensibly ceded.
As
we changed carriage, the first thing worth mentioning was that the
windows not only were polished and shiny, they had blinds with
screens on. Each screen gave a different angle from a bunch of
musicians performing with a small array of instruments. Edgar
whispered, “We call them
the
Monsters.”
I
took a look at the screen right next to my seat. They were indeed
fitted for the titled. There were a bunch of them with iron rings and
horns crafted in and around their faces. Just a couple of them showed
enough skin, though, wearing a type of shirt that bared their chests
paired with a couple of trousers whose blend of darkened skin with
hair gave the lot’s exuberance of colours a provocative
bad-tasting tone.
“Luckily,
there’s no speaker to hear them… but, if you want to,
put on a pair of those. Don’t you worry; we’re barely
touching the ground.” I put the headphones on and listened to
their singing of an horrible chant, accompanied by a piercing weep
coming from one of the three guitars. A pounding turmoil of thumps
was heard behind, as the drummer struck his instrument in aching
agony. But the recurring tune sounded more like a lullaby. Before I
nodded off, I mumbled to Edgar, “’Tis good, ain’t
it?”
[The
train looks like a mole, or a deer, with its red nose]
A
swoosh, a bang and a crash. I open my eyes and I see a building
collapsing on top of another and another, and a rumble of destruction
propagating over cars, signposts and bus-stop shelters. I turn to the
other side and through the windows I watch as two planes and a
helicopter fly over our train in warlike formation. Edgar’s
asleep. As I rush him to wake up, he takes his earplugs and my
earphones, looks around and comments, “What do you think of
‘Panoramic Realistic Experience in the Heart of the City’?
They only screen it on specific trains!”
“Not
funny,” I reply.
He
went closer to press some buttons next to me on the compartment wall.
The film footage faded away and, from behind it, the real City
appeared, older larger, murkier.
“We’re
arriving. What a hell of a place, isn’t it?”
A
polyphonic beep was coming from above, as the high-pitch lady-voice
propagated through all the train.
“Oh,
listen to their talk! So formal, elegant and polite!” He then
proceeded to the voice’s impersonation. “Esteemed
customers, our next stop is… City. This is our final
destination. Thank you for choosing us for your… travel
business.”
As
were heading out the railway station gate, a group of very respectful
men in expensive long, black coats slithered upon us.
“Number?”
they asked Edgar, who replied, “Thrasher, this my daughter
Lark. Here, these are our CheckMe’s.”
The
two characters handed back the documents to Edgar, then gestured for
us to move along.
“What
are they?”
“I’ll
tell you when we get home.”
I
looked up to him, I don’t want any trouble.
“One
thing you’ll learn in the City is that when you run from
trouble, trouble finds its way back to you.”
From
the gate, a stale light had permeated through the sliding doors. The
sunset sky was now barely visible, way behind the mixture of bright
lights, smoke and skyscrapers pouring till the horizon. What in the
world…
“Is
this?”
“This
is it!” announced Edgar.
Sometimes
I wonder what my life would be like if I had never come to this
place. Would it be better to stay out in the fields, playing with
Barbara and learning about the city bit by bit as though they wanted
us to learn… or giving all of that in exchange for a bit of
risk and fun behind the city light?
On
the one side of the street, shop windows that portrayed rags, gadgets
and delights in colourful yet subtle scenes. On the other side, black
shadows crawled, shifted, bulged next to the pavement. In front of
us, unidentifiable people barely cornered us in a mass of tight
clothes with messages printed, such as “Born again”,
“Downright mindful” or “You only know when it hits
you in the face!” Behind us, not much could be seen, for the
dense, dark-grey fog hid everything and everyone away from public
contempt.
Now
doubt this was new to me, and amidst the filtered light and
intensified smells, there was something purely fascinating about it.
As I observed the shadows morphing, the people wandering out of
character, the billboards sucking in everything near, hearing the
syncopated sound of steps, smelling the spicy air, flickering with
the nauseating strobe of screens, signs, and placards — I went
from upright amazement to insatiable excitement. This was not my
place, yet this was my place!
The
sky was dark-clear orange when we entered the shopping centre. Edgar
addressed the shop assistant in the following way:
“Good
afternoon! I’d like a phone for my daughter.”
“Tensors
well telescopy affectation paraffin applet chimp else.” He went
to shop window, brought a huge flat brick, held it in front of us
like cotton candy. It was clay-red and had obscenely bulging from the
very bottom of the trapezoid screen a single carrot-shaped button.
“He ask well uTelephone!”
“I’m
sorry, but I’ll have to say no. You see, we need something
really doing what it says on the tin. That is, a Zotran.”
“Ooh
Zotran? Demand comprising…” He went to a pile of packed
boxes on paper-shouldered basket in front of the balcony and searched
till he managed to get the one stuck in the bottom. “No see
haven mugs dwells ninja mads. Ten Chicago reals Z71513!”
It
was a new Edgar, very pleased with himself after examinating the
large box, who exclaimed, “ Whaddaya think, larkie-thing? I
think we’re gonna take it!” He said something else to the
shopkeeper, but I wasn’t paying muc attention, though. To be
honest, I was much more busier staring at all the bits and bots
laying across the room, before I discovered, between two shelves and
through the fudgy glass of the shop window, I was delivered the
sparkling sight of a bookshop at the end of the corridor in the
corner. Had not Edgar finished paying the expensive gadget I was
already sighing, “Okay, so where to go next?”
Edgar
was baffled at the name of the section where we had penetrated.
“Fantasy: do people still dream in the City?”
“Let’s
see…” I picked two or three books and sat on a bench in
the opposite corner of the room.
“I’ll
be…” Edgar gestured he would be close to the entrance,
finding more interesting books (for himself, that is).
The
first book was about two different creatures from two different
places that, by refusing to belong to their roles within their
communities, decide to join forces to start a third one. Their names
were extravagant and the plot wasn’t compelling, so I moved on
to the second book. Two young boys, living two centuries apart get
switched in the time line, so they discover in the journals each hid
under the pillow every night. One day, one of them finds a way to
bring things back to normal. Sad story! I wish today there would be
some way to get things back to abnormal…
Oh
well, as I’m peeking into the third book, someone sticks their
finger right in the middle, literally, and pushes down my book with
some mighty fussiness. I look up to him, and I observe the young boy
(clearly younger than me, of course) pointing out the notice “No
reading allowed.”
“Why
are they making books that cannot be read?” I wail.
“I
think… er… you oughta… buy them first…”
“Oh
well! I wasn’t reading this book anyway.” So I raised the
book and put it back on the shelf — Needless to say, exactly in
the place where I got it from (just like Edgar had taught).
“Why
were you looking for that book?”
“Oh!
Me? I saw an advertisement somewhere near the entrance.”
“You
didn’t see the game?”
Who
dares to talk of games in a bookshop? “What game?”
“How
can you not know yet?!” hw had to take a deep breath so he
would keep being polite even though I was a complete stranger.
“They’ve made the book outta the game.”
“No
way!” I gaped. “But even still, I think the book would be
better…”
“What?!
No, you’ve got to try it. You can interact with the characters…
and then there’s… there’s lots of bonus levels?
What am I saying, you’ve really gotta try it out.”
I
looked back at Edgar. He was visibly pleased with a big book he had
picked. Sure I shouldn’t disturb him now — Would it be
really worth it?
“Before
the book, right?” I didn’t need to hear back his word. I
glided to Edgar and said to him, in my most unmistakable voice,
“Let’s go!”
“But…
go where, now?”
“Finding
games, Edgar… Matching games!” But first we needed to
find a shop. “Oh, which way now?” Luckily, there was
another shop just in front. Edgar was turning blue, as the shopkeeper
explained the total of our necessary expenses.
“But,
but… Larkie-thing?!”
“I
want it, Edgar. I really, really want it!”
“She
really, really wants it,” mocked the shopkeeper, half
condescending, half second-intended. Edgar was trying to give me some
advice first, but I wasn’t needing any advice — and he
knew it!
I
looked back to the bookshop — I had completely forgot to show
him the matching book! Just midway back through my dashing, I started
to feel weak and crampy. Edgar would call my name, but I couldn’t
even stand on both feet. The boy of before was freezing pale in front
of me. Behind, Edgar skipped towards me, as everything was becoming
staggering bright, blurry and flickering. The shop windows reflected
more light than they could let through, so I felt spotlighted by the
intense LED beams above my head. Then everything turned white, and I
was a swan dancing and dandling on a borderless stage.
[The
City is a mix of smoke, light and skyscrapers in the late sunset]
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