The newcomer

There must have been a misunderstanding at the train station when L. bought his ticket, because when he woke up at the final destination he heard the name of a city he didn't even know from before. He got off the train and looked around. The train station was almost completely empty, only an old couple sitting on a bench arm in arm represented the mankind. The old man was wearing a worn-out brown leather coat, ragged boots and a leather cap with drab, cotton welt. Every item of his accoutrements seemed to be one size bigger than needed. He pointed at L. and clapped his hands. The woman who was wearing a fur as old as she herself got up and slowly started to walk in L.'s direction. As she got closer and closer to him, her eyes became wider and her mouth opened.

'Here you are. ' She said. 'I thought you would be older. Shorter. Darker.'

She raised her hand and touched L.'s shoulder.

'Now come with us.' She said. 'You made us wait for too long.'

L. turned around and walked away from the woman. 'People go shamelessly crazy when they get old.' he thought. 'I should have stayed at home. My ear infection will get worse in this wind.' He walked to the cashier; it was closed. He knocked on the glass window but nothing happened. 'I have to buy Chamomile tea.' He thought while he kept on knocking. 'It might help. And I have to call the cardiologist to cancel the appointment.'

An old man with eyes almost closed and a small, crumpled nose appeared in the other side of the glass wall.

'I've heard that you arrived.' He said to the microphone. 'I have all kinds of cigarettes. And movies too. American movies. Now, what do you have? Failures? Sacrifices? Childhood betrayals?'

L. looked around. There was no one else at the station, apart from the lunatic couple on the bench.

'There must be a misunderstanding here.' He said. 'I just want to be on the next train that will go to the capital.'

'To the capital.' The old man repeated, and raised his shoulders.

'I have to get back to the city.' L. hardened his voice, but the narrow, inspecting eyes of the man didn't promise further information. They were observing every little detail on the surface of L.

'You must be full of memories.' He said.

L. felt hunger and pain in his ear. 'I need to eat something and be in a windless place for a short while.' He thought. 'After eating I could catch a taxi to the closest train station with normal people. This day is already wasted anyway.'

He felt a hand on his shoulder again. It was the woman in the rusty fur. She leaned closer to him and whispered something that he couldn't understand as at the same time a freight train passed by. The woman held his hand and raised her eyebrows. L. felt demobilizing weakness and hunger. 'Where old people live, there is always some food and a sofa to share.' He thought. He nodded to the woman and let her lead him to a small, bronze car.

'Did you have brothers or sisters?' The old man sitting on the driving seat turned to him.

'I have a brother.' L. said. 'I haven't seen him in ages.'

'Do you remember the last time you played football with him?

L. nodded tiredly. 'What happens to the brain when people get old?', he wondered. 'Can it expire like milk?'

'What was he wearing?', the old man kept on asking him. 'Did you make jokes and drank beers after… was it a warm summer day?'

The woman stretched her hand and squeezed the old man's wrist.

'Hush.', she said. 'He just arrived.'

The old man swept her hand off, keeping his eyes on L.

'Do you remember the hands of your wife from the time when she was young?'. He continued. 'How did they look like?'

L. closed his eyes.

'Let him rest a bit.' he heard the woman's voice. The car started moving. L. tried to picture the hands of his wife, but their texture was too immaculate in his mind, like the spotless skin of women in magazines. He fell asleep by the time the car left the parking.

'It never stops raining in this town.' A child on a swing said before disappearing with the dream. L. kept his eyes closed to avoid having to continue the senseless conversation with the old couple. He heard heavy rain beating the window of the car. The noise became louder and louder, and started mixing with voices possibly of human origin. L. woke up entirely and opened his eyes. It wasn't raining. They were driving through a huge crowd of people clapping hands and drumming on the pavement with walking sticks.

'What are these folks celebrating?' L. asked. 'Is this a religious thing?'

'It isn't.' The woman turned to L. and stroked his forehead. 'They came to meet you.'

'Why would they want to meet me?' L. said and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

'They want to listen to you.' The old man said, looking in the rearview mirror. 'Now, if you let me give you some advice... Always ask what they can offer in exchange before you start talking. Even if you don't remember something, don't try to lie. They will feel it. Don't tell everything in the first days, but don't wait too long either. Memories are unfaithful like beautiful women; you fall asleep with them, and you wake up alone. Make the best out of what you have, son. It won't last long.'

'I don't understand anything.' L. said, and shook his head. 'Who are they? And what am I supposed to do?'

'Don't mind if it hurts. Pain is precious.' The woman said and showed her rickety teeth with a cheerless smile. 'Just try to remember.'