"TALES OF GHOSTS"
about Love and Death from the Land of Mists
a collection of short stories
in the “Playing Another Reality” series
"BROKEN MIRROR"
4. A STRANGER
Two men entered a tavern on Rue Rochelle, settled down at a free table, ordered a bottle of wine and started talking.
“Look, Jean, there, by the window!” Paul said enigmatically.
“Pretty, I agree! I’ve never seen her here before.”
“Neither have I. She’s really very sweet. And by the way, it’s your favorite type!”
“Mary!” Jean called to a passing waitress. “Do you happen to know the girl by the window?”
“Are you looking for a new girlfriend? I don’t know, she’s been showing up here in the evenings for a week, always alone. Many guys approached her, but she doesn’t talk to anyone!”
“Such a pretty girl looks sad!”
“Well, you have a chance to cheer her up!”
On the table at the Stranger there was a glass of wine and an open notebook, although the girl was neither writing nor reading anything in it.
“Hello! What’s your name?” Jean called out to her.
The Stranger raised her head slowly, looked at him and answered nothing. Her eyes were full of hopeless longing and fatigue, and her gaze was focused on something that didn’t belong to the real world. No one and nothing seemed to exist for the girl but her own thoughts.
“Why are you silent?” Jean asked, taking a seat nearby.
***
It was damp, cloudy and cold. The fog shrouded everything around, and nothing was visible at arm’s length. Melana wandered aimlessly through the narrow streets of the foreign city, randomly turning into lanes. Staying at home, where everything reminded of him, was unbearable.
Melana kept returning to thoughts of escaping to Heaven. Not spilling out, feelings overwhelmed her. Edward, died so suddenly and absurdly, was the only person who really loved her not in words, and whom she truly loved. So Melana was left alone, without a job, money, any relations, any help in a foreign country, since Edward had brought her there just a couple of months ago. However, he himself had moved to that country not long before.
It seemed life was just beginning!
“Why does God punish some people and is so merciful to others?” thought the girl and constantly felt the presence of Edward nearby: she heard familiar footsteps, felt his breath and saw a shadow. Almost every night she dreamed about him, and when she woke up, it seemed that a dream was reality, and reality was a dream…
Something dark prompted the girl to do like many others in need of money. Melana began to come to a small tavern, trying to get over herself, but… every time she had the opportunity to catch a man, she couldn’t step further.
***
Melana spoke inconsistently, fragments of unfinished phrases in a broken foreign language, with obvious mistakes and accent. Jean listened to her without interrupting, although he really understood nothing, except for her lack of money. Jean had no problems with money and felt sympathy for the girl.
“Listen, my dear, you didn’t say me your name.”
“Does it matter?”
“No… I’ll help you anyway. How much money do you need? You don’t have to pay me back. I don’t need anything from you. I just want to help you. I’ll bring money to you here tomorrow, okay?”
Melana looked into Jean’s eyes in disbelief and shrugged her shoulders, got up and headed for the exit. Jean didn’t stop her.
***
The next evening came. Melana was about to leave the house for meeting that strange man, whose name she hadn’t ask. Out of habit, looking in the mirror by the door, the girl heard a barely distinguishable familiar voice and slowly turned in the direction where it had sounded.
“I’m here!”
Melana stepped toward the balcony door, and the voice sounded much clearer.
“Come to me!”
She opened the door and stepped out into the fog that was once again enveloping the city.
“Melana!”
Yes, it was Edward’s voice! Finally, she saw him in the fog! Edward looked at Melana, hypnotizing her with his gaze.
“Come to me!” he was repeating in a whisper. “Don’t be afraid! It’s me here!”
And the girl reached out to him, since he was very close, just a few steps away from her! No longer understanding neither where she was, nor what was going on, she had only one wish… to hug him again!
***
In the semi-darkness of the tavern, Jean was sitting at a table by the window, waiting for his Stranger, nervously fiddling with a bouquet of violets. Melana sat down across from him. Noticing the flowers, she smiled and gently ran her hand over his palm.
“You are very kind,” she said. “You will be fine, life goes on!”
“You didn’t believe me,” Jean sighed.
“I believed you, indeed, but… it will really be better so for everyone. I’ll come again. Definitely. One day. When you won’t wait for me. You will need help, and I will help you! Because people like me there, should help people like you here…”
At that moment, Mary, the waitress, came up to the table and, smiling coquettishly, lit a candle in an antique candlestick.
“Never give violets to anyone, Jean!” having noticed the flowers, she grew gloomy. “They are certainly beautiful, however… According to legend, people used to place them in coffins of prematurely dead young girls. They say Persephone was picking violets when Hades took her to the Kingdom of the Dead.”
Jean looked at Mary in surprise and wanted to object, but she hastily left, and a bad premonition crept into his soul.
The door of the tavern swung wide open.
“Hello, Jean! I knew you’re here!” Paul exclaimed, hurrying to his friend’s table. “Don’t be upset! Whatever happens is for the best!”
“Don’t say that,” Jean shook his head negatively.
“I learned something about your Stranger. Her name is Melana, but…”
“But…? Don’t sigh, tell me!”
“She is the widow of the man who accidentally died instead of you two weeks ago!”
Melana hugged Jean, kissed his hair tenderly, saying goodbye, and a sudden gust of wind blew out the candle in the antique candlestick…
June 19, 1994