Two little boys sat under a tree at the edge of a small mountain town; one with blonde hair and the other with red-brown. The second one was chattering and smiling while his companion's face had dried tear trails down both cheeks and was dressed in black mourning clothes.
If one were to look closely they would see that there were two small child's hands sitting on the grass clasped together in an iron grip between the pair. The much more energetic of the two pointed something out to his friend and earned a small hesitant smile.
Three older teens stood down the road and out of sight from the children, but close enough to make sure that they didn't get into trouble. The man standing in the centre wore black cloths similar to the blond boy's that made his white hair and red eyes stand out even more than usual. His friend to the left wore blonde locks loosely tied back, while the green-eyed teenager standing on the right had curly brunette hair.
"Danke for checking in on us," said the albino.
His green-eyed friend smiled. "De nada! It's always nice to visit you two."
The third spoke up, "Ah, that it is mon ami, but if only we could be meeting under happier circumstances."
Silence fell over the trio as they watched both of the boys under the tree.
"Joy, Love…"
The two teens standing on each side of their red-eyed friend glanced at each other. Those names were only used when things got very serious.
"Sí?"
"Oui?"
"If something happens to me, will you two make sure that Luddy is taken care of?"
Another moment of quiet elapsed before the awaited answers came.
The blonde man that he'd called Love spoke first, accented voice like soft silk, "Of course, mon ami."
The other—Joy—rested a hand on his friend's slouched shoulder in comfort. "We'll be there for him if he needs us."
There was a sigh and a smile that wasn't quite happy, but full of painful memories. "Danke."
Both of the children sitting by the tree continued to talk in bliss, completely unaware of the agreement that had been made not twenty metres away from where they sat.
Pandora's Box.
A box said to contain all of the emotions of the world in it.
That is, until Pandora opened it. Thus letting loose Anger, Misery, Hatred, and so many others. All of them are horrible and vengeful. All of them flew out into the world of men until only Hope was left inside; the one emotion that would keep everyone going, that would save those poor lost souls. Some say Pandora was stupid, that she should have simply ignored the temptation. There's another one Temptation. Nasty fellow, Temptation, always catching people unaware.
Pandora's Box: Keeper of the Emotions, and she just had to open it. Just one peak…
Oops.
Over their telling, stories tend to become manipulated. Ever played telephone line? Everyone sits down in a circle—or line—and one person starts by whispering a message to the other. In the end the last person to get the message tells everyone else what they heard, and the original words are repeated for all to hear. By the time that whatever the first had said reaches the last, the words have become twisted, and manipulated. That's only a group of kids.
What would happen if people played telephone line over centuries?
That's what old myths have become; a message that was changed and told until it no longer resembled the original. All tales are like that. They change. However, that's part of the joy of hearing these stories. Ah, Joy. I met him once. He was very nice, but a bit slow and not very smart. He had a friend with him at the time, rude man; had this obsession with tomatoes... But that's a different story of course.
Anyway, back to myths. Pandora's Box is like any other story. It's changed ever since the first time someone told it. The tale of how all of those bad emotions got out into the world, and how Hope was trapped inside; left to try and escape on his own before humans were taken over by all of those negative emotions that were flying around in the world. There was a reason they were all locked up.
Who knows how long he was in there until he found a way out of the box…
But, you don't know who I am yet. I haven't told you. Sorry, sometimes I do that. I get carried away and forget the basics. Let's try this again.
Hello! I'm Hope. I travel around the universe to deliver hope to people's hearts. I make sure that everyone and everything doesn't collapse into despair. You could say that I'm kind of a hero—but I can't call myself that; Courage already claimed he was the hero. Because I'm technically not a human there are a few differences from me and a normal person.
I—like all of the other emotions—can travel faster than any other living thing. I just have to think reallllly hard, concentrating on where I want to go. Then I close my eyes and poof! I'm somewhere entirely different! It only works if I get a sort of "signal" though. It's actually more like a distress call. Whenever someone feels utterly hopeless—completely and totally without any hope of ever having happiness or peace—it sends out a secret message I guess. I can sense these messages. Even if I'm half way around the world, I can feel the pull of hopelessness. It makes me want to drop everything and make that person happy again; make them feel the power of hope.
Of course, being an emotion, I don't age like humans do. I can choose to look older or younger, if I have to. Usually I like to stay around twenty-two years old unless if something calls for different. It's old enough to get away with things and not be told off by elders, but young enough to warm up to people and it not be creepy.
If you haven't already guessed, I've had to come up with another name for people to call me. Over the years I've changed the name I used several times—there's only so many guys named "Hope" that can appear in one time period before people get curious.
In this time I go by Feliciano Vargas.
I was walking through the streets of a cute little Italian village, restoring a bit after helping someone, and generally walking around. I really like Italy. It's my favourite country, and the language is so pretty. Emotions don't have to eat to survive—in fact, most of the time food tastes horrible to us—but a lot of us have certain human foods that we enjoy. For me its pasta and Italy is the home of the best pasta! I once learned how to make it under a chef that I was trying to help. He was very nice…
I'm getting distracted again. Sorry.
The breeze that was blowing down the cobbled path was warm, and brought the sweet smell of the bakery from down the way to my nose. It was so peaceful here, but I had sensed earlier a little tug of someone that needed my help. The feeling had disappeared, but it was best to make sure, and there weren't any dire signals anyway.
And when I finished, I could get pasta from that restaurant a block back. The sign out front had said that they served very good ravioli, but I could go for some gnocchi right now Oh, but the scent of that tortellini in a takeout container that someone had walked by with had smelled really good…
Wait… I could feel something. I was brought out of my thoughts about pasta when I tripped and my feet started travelling in a different direction. I winced and guided my wandering feet off to the side of the boulevard and turned down a much less crowded alley. My legs wanted to keep walking however, back out into the main road and all the way to the origin of the almost painful feeling I was getting in my chest.
Usually when I feel someone who is in need of hope, it's merely a twinge or a pinch. Not this one though, it was strong, and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from closing my eyes and transporting if I had wanted to.
Pasta would have to wait. Someone needed me.
Ow. They needed me now.
I barely had time to wonder who was the source of such unhappiness—was it Grief? He was causing a lot of trouble for me lately—before I found myself a lot farther north than I had been before.
Down in Italy, it had been much warmer, but here the early autumn air bit through to my core. Some people would think that because emotions aren't human, and are…well emotions, that we wouldn't feel anything. We do nonetheless, or at least I could. I didn't know about the others. We tend to try and stay away from each other.
I looked around at the landscape around me. It wasn't necessarily farmland, but this was no crowded city either. The town was at the base of a range of mountains, yet they weren't the Alps or Himalayas. I tried to get a grip of where I was by walking around, my feet carrying me closer to where the source of hopelessness was. I saw a sign and noticed it as German. This was either Germany, or another German speaking country… maybe Austria.
There was no chance to ask or try and investigate as I stumbled over nothing and had to concentrate on following the pull that was almost dragging me down the street. If I was heading where I believed I was; the local church would be where I found the person that needed me.
Hopefully no one had died. I always got too attached to people who lost someone special. The thought of that reminded me of someone I'd helped a while back. He was a cute little boy with blonde hair, blue eyes. His father had died from an illness, and he'd had to go live with his older brother. I never got his name or his brother's, but I wish I did. Maybe I would have visited them.
The church doors were indeed where I stopped. I wasn't rude and didn't want any attention on me, so bursting in before they finished was out of the question. Most emotions liked to be quiet and work from behind the scenes. Few of us worked the way I did and got to know the person that needed us in a personal way. That often made it hard to leave them. I found it easier to help that way nevertheless.
It was not long before people started coming out of the church, and I'd taken up residence in the café across the small lane. By the appearance of the first few people to leave, I could tell that they'd been in a funeral. There wasn't a large crowd, and it didn't take long before everyone that was going to leave, had; still no sign of the person that had brought me here. I finished off the coffee that was keeping my hands warm and crossed the deserted street.
The church wasn't a big one. It was small and looked cosy like most of the buildings that ran along the sides of the roads in this town. By now I'd figured out that I had been transported to a small town in Germany. I still didn't know the name though. People looked at you funny if you asked them where you were. I'd learned to simply try and guess instead of being direct. Lots of the time I didn't even know where I was at all, but that was fine with me.
The doors were small—which fit the church—but they were heavy, and it took a lot of pushing to get one to open for me. I peeked inside to see a quiet and dark room. There were pews that ran in rows before the front of the room, which was raised up three steps. Crosses, stained glass windows, and stunning art lined the walls, but my attention was elsewhere.
It couldn't be…
No, it must be the dim light.
I was just seeing things.
At the top of the steps sat a casket with white flowers placed over the top. Candles were arranged around the base and provided the only illumination. It was such a beautiful, but sad scene. My attention wasn't there either.
No… it surely was…
There was no mistaking now.
I walked faster and neared a man that was kneeling at the black case, his head resting on the shining surface and his shoulders hunched forward. I could hear soft crying. He hadn't noticed me yet, but I had noticed him. As I neared, I slowed and tried to be a bit louder so he'd know I was there.
"Go away…" The voice was deeper, sad, and seemed like it could be as strong as a brick wall, but it wasn't now. I could still hear that familiar rhythm to it.
I hadn't replied, and the voice grew angrier. I could feel him plunge farther into sadness and it hurt. "I said… go away." At this distance I could see the slightest shake to those broad shoulders.
I ignored his words and walked forward. There was nothing said as I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and the fair-haired man continued to cry. It was him alright. But why was he so depressed? Who was in that black box, never to wake again? I'd not known him long, but I knew he wasn't one to so easily cry. This man was strong, and he got through things. I knew I shouldn't ask, but the answer was supplied for me anyway.
"My brother... he left… went out drinking like usual… I got a call from the hospital… he hadd drank too much… his liver couldn't handle it... dead before I got there."
Oh, his brother? I looked up. My gaze travelled beyond the casket and into the shadows. One of them had to be lurking around here if this man had such misfortune twice. Sure enough, I saw the glint of a smile and watched as someone disappeared behind the altar. They were travelling deeper into the church to hide. The light was too poor to tell who it'd been, but my guess was Depression or Misery. This seemed like their style. There was no use in going after whoever it had been. They'd already done the damage. Besides, I was here now, so unless if it was someone powerful, they would be keeping their distance.
We stayed like that for a while, the man and I. My hand resting on his shoulder, and his head bent over his dead brother's casket.
After a while the candles started to go out, and the sun was well below the sky. My legs were getting stiff and tired of standing. I'd felt two small tugs at my chest since coming into the church, but ignored them both. This man needed me the most and I couldn't have left him if I tried. He had run out of tears a while back, but didn't move other than to lift his head once and look at the white flowers.
They were white like his hair, if I remembered correctly. He'd had red eyes too now that I thought about it.
My mind came back to the present when the shoulder under my hand shifted and the depressed man raised his head. I think he fell asleep at one point and was now waking up. He turned and was about to stand when he noticed me. I brought my hand back to my side and took the chance to put my weight on my other foot.
"…Who are you?" His voice had gone from sad and damaged to closed and guarded.
I tried to smile for him, but it seemed too weak. "Only someone who can't bear to see a person so lost and broken." I avoided mentioning an emotion in case if the one from before was still around. You never knew what mentioning them by name could do.
"Why are you here?" He stood, and even in the dim light I could tell he was clearly tired of being bothered and wanted to be left alone. I knew what leaving people to themselves when they were like this did. I tried not to shiver at the memory, but it was a scary one. That made me swiftly decide to stay with this man at all costs because I would not be able to see him spiral down so far he was out of my ability to help.
"Why are you here?" He repeated the question and I realized that I'd spaced out again. Still, what to say?
"Well, I couldn't just sit and watch someone be so…sad." I was pretty sure that this wasn't Sad's doing, so I could risk mentioning her. I didn't think he was buying what I'd told him though. I had to keep talking or I'd surely loose him. It was hard to help someone that tried to avoid you.
"Who I am isn't important. What is would be that you're sad, and I'm not standing for it." I paused. "Why don't we go to that café across the street? I think you've been in here too long." That and I still couldn't see his face to confirm my theory of who this was. Half of me wanted to be correct, and the other half desperately needed to be wrong.
After a bit of coxing and more smiles, we ended up at a table close to the warm fireplace that was cracking merrily. Each of us had a hot drink—coffee for him and hot chocolate for me since I'd already had coffee earlier. I'd paid my own with a trick that we emotions had learned a while back. While the negative emotions tended to steal whenever they needed something, the rest of us figured out early on that if we were motivated and tried really hard, we'd suddenly find enough money in our pocket to pay for what we needed. No one knew if it was real money, or where it came from, but we weren't about to question anything so helpful.
I was sure of one thing however. This was most definitely him. That blond hair—he had it slicked back instead of down like before—and those bright cerulean eyes that were now dulled from sorrow. Since I'd first found him in the church, he was much more closed. Before it'd all be raw emotion, but now he was quiet and drawn back. Becoming walled off like that was a defence mechanism that some humans had. It would make helping him even harder, but I wasn't giving up.
"If you're not going to talk, I have things to do." He declared sternly.
"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking…" I paused to sip at the hot chocolate I held and gather my thoughts, "I never told you my name. I'm Feliciano Vargas, what's your name?" I blinked at him and tilted my head curiously.
He sighed, seemingly annoyed—but I don't think he was—before he answered, "Ludwig Beilschmidt. You sound Italian, what are you doing this far north in Germany?"
I seriously didn't know how to answer that one. It was true that I'd picked up an Italian accent after spending so much time visiting that particular country. "Oh…I travel a lot." Well that was true. I did travel a lot, only not in the conventional way.
"Europe, or around the world?" I could tell that he was looking for a distraction, so I provided one for him.
"Around the world, where ever my feet take me actually." I smiled and looked outside at the dark sky, wondering where I'd be tonight; if I'd fell someone on the other side of the world and go over there until morning came here like I usually did or if I'd stay here. I looked back to Ludwig—that was a name I would not ever forget—and realized I would not be going anywhere until I was finished.
"Where all have you been?" He asked me.
I tried to think of the recent places that I'd known where I was. "Hmm…I was in this state called Oregon in America last week… Ah, a month ago I found myself wondering around Hong Kong." I paused to take another drink of my hot chocolate, it was the perfect temperature, "I was in Russia, England, and some place called Alert over the summer." In all honesty, I'd forgotten where Alert was; simply that it was a town somewhere way too cold, and I probably would have frozen to death if it was possible for an emotion to freeze. Luckily, I'd only been there for three hours before being whisked away to Cuba. "I've been to Argentina and Egypt too." I added the last two entirely for fun. My latest trip to Egypt had been a scary visit, and I'd only ended up in Argentina in the recent century for about four days.
His eyes widened for a second, and he set his mug down. "Really? You must love travelling a lot to be on the move so much."
On the bright side, it was a lot easier to tell people why they didn't know me then it had been back before planes and such fast cars. I couldn't exactly tell people that I'd recently appeared in their corn rows because of magic or because someone had little hope in their lives. I'm pretty sure one of us tried that once and the local towns people started going on about witchcraft.
"I find myself moving from one place to a next often. I just can't seem to stay in one location too long." I'd tried in the past to stay in the places I liked, but eventually the hurt from ignoring the hopeless got too strong and I transported against my will. Almost like today, only I hadn't tried to resist this time. It wasn't worth it to try and fight the urge to give hope, and every time I did I was merely reminded even more how emotions aren't humans. We're very different.
The conversation was starting to become painful for me, so I quickly changed the topic. "I've always loved Europe though. I'm often in Italy when I can be."
He was still able to catch my longing tone and it reminded me of the little blond boy in my fuzzy memories. "Why leave then?" He- no, Ludwig asked me. I needed to start remembering him as Ludwig and not the man with azure-eyes and hair like wheat. I knew his name now, and I would use it.
Answering him would be difficult. I knew that he wouldn't merely let me change the subject again without going back to his question. "Hmmm…I guess I have to. I can't stay in one place for very long without having to move on to somewhere new. It's kind of complicated." Very complicated.
Ludwig didn't question that. He noticed it was a bit of a sensitive issue for me, so this time he steered the direction of the conversation elsewhere. "You're from Italy originally?"
"No, Greece." It came out of my mouth before I could correct myself, so I had to quickly add, "B-but I moved to Italy when I was a little kid, so I grew up there." His look of confusion vanished and was replaced by a nod.
We were both quiet for a while, staring into our cups or at the fireplace. Ludwig was the first to speak next. "Mr Vargas-"
"No need to be formal. You can call me Feli." I corrected with a smile and shrug of one shoulder.
"Feliciano-"
"Feli, per favour. Call me Feli." I said again. This time my voice was gentler and we both looked at each other's eyes. I saw pain in his and wondered what those blue eyes saw in mine. Hope maybe?
"Feli, you said you don't like to see people depressed, but how did you know I'd be in the church? You don't look like someone that would know my brother." He'd asked another tough question that I couldn't have evaded. This was getting a bit difficult.
I bit my lip, "I saw the people come out of the church when I was walking by. I figured someone must be inside or they would have been a very lonely person to have no one to cry for them." This was not a subject that he should be talking about right now. I was here to help, not remind him of the loss.
Ludwig nodded again. I guess he either accepted my answer, or decided he wouldn't get me to tell the truth easily. I couldn't tell which though. There was another one of those pauses where neither of us would say anything. I didn't like it. I felt like we had to keep the conversation going, he couldn't be left to start thinking too much.
I was about to say something, but he beat me to it. "Feliciano?"
"Yes?" I looked up at his face. His eyes were like shards of ice. I wondered how they were still frozen when it seemed so warm sitting by the fire…
"Do you… by chance… have any place to… um, sleep tonight?" He broke the eye contact and glanced at the wall. I guess it was a pretty interesting wall; he didn't look back to me.
I tilted my head, looking slightly confused, "Why do you ask?" For a second it completely escaped me why he would wonder if I had somewhere to stay. I didn't need to sleep, so what was the point?
"Well, I couldn't simply walk away and leave you without places to stay... you've been really kind to me." I tried not to smile when I saw Ludwig's checks tint pink, but it was unavoidable.
I needed to get closer to him so that I could help. This was the perfect opportunity, and I wouldn't be one to refuse it. "Actually, I don't have anywhere to sleep. " I giggled into my cup before drinking the last of the hot chocolate. By now it was more like cold chocolate; we'd been sitting for a while.
"It's getting late, so if you're going to come, we should probably leave…" We both got up and set our empty mugs on the counter. The lady behind it smiled and waved us goodbye. I smiled back at her and winked. I found out long ago that sometimes it was the little things that made people happier.
We both walked in the dark and kept up a conversation that didn't involve much about me, and almost nothing about Ludwig's brother. I think I saw him smile once. I couldn't tell in the low light, but I wanted to make it happen again. He seemed like the person that would rarely smile, but when he did, it would be worth the effort of waiting.
It didn't take long to get to Ludwig's house. By the time he was unlocking the front door I knew that he had grown up in this town, was twenty three, had still been living with his brother when he died, and owned three dogs. He knew that I was supposedly twenty two, and that my favourite place in Italy was a little restaurant in Naples that had a roof top deck with a view of Mount Vesuvius in one direction, and the cityscape from the other. He'd told me that he wanted to eat there some time and I said that I would take him if I could.
Such a visit was impossible for him however, because the restaurant closed back in 1983. It's been demolished by now. Maybe I could take him to see the water ways of Venice one day to make up for the trip.
He got the door open and I could hear the bark of a dog as he stepped inside. "There are only two bedrooms… so you'll have to take the couch." His voice had that bitter quality again that I was growing to dislike a lot.
I was going to ask why I would need to stay on the couch when I realized exactly who had lived in that second room. No person as nice as Ludwig would have let someone they just met sleep in his dead brother's bed.
"It's ok! I don't mind at all." It's not like I could sleep in the first place. I planned on sneaking out and wondering the streets until morning and then coming back before Ludwig woke.
Two dogs came running up to me as I entered the house. One barked happily, and the other immediately had his nose working. I could see a third lumber into the room after the first two. They all were soon very curious about me. I had a completely new and foreign smell from any person they'd met. That and I'd been to a lot of different places today—before my walk in Italy, I'd been helping someone in Mexico.
"Aster, Blackie sit." His voice was commanding when he said it. I looked up at Ludwig to find him with that stern face again. Both dogs complied and the third one gave a sniff before retreating back into another room in the small house.
"What is the other one's name?" I asked as I stroked Aster's head and ears. The dog's tail happily wagged and I smiled.
"He's called Berlitz. Aster is a golden retriever, Blackie is German Shepard, and Berlitz is a Doberman. I hope you don't mind them. They're usually very nice," Aster jumped up again and started licking my hand, "but for some reason they're not behaving as well with you…" I laughed lightly, but not only because Aster was tickling me with her tongue. I liked the way that my real name sounded when he said it; like something you could depend on.
"Maybe it's me. They can probably smell all of the places that I've been." That and they'd most likely figured out I wasn't human. Dogs were smart, but a little uninformed. I wondered if any of the three had ever run into an emotion before. It was quite possible if the one I'd seen before had been sticking around for some time.
I looked up to see that while I'd been busy petting the two dogs, Ludwig was making his way down the hall. I quickly caught up to him as he turned into what appeared to be the living room. There weren't many pictures on the cream walls, and the couch looked like it had been sitting in that room for most of its life. There was a large television and a small coffee table. Besides the radio sitting on a table off to the side and a few shelves of books, DVDs, and CDs the room was rather bare.
Ludwig walked over to a door off to the right of where we stood. It was apparently a closest, and had my sheets for tonight inside. He handed me a stack of folded blankets with a black, red, and gold coloured quilt on top before going back out into the hall. "I'll grab a pillow for you."
I set the sheets down on a corner of the coffee table and waited for his return. I wondered if Ludwig was getting a pillow from his own bed, or if they were merely stored in a different place. It would be strange to have your sheets in one place, blankets in a completely different one, and pillows in another. You'd be running around the house to do something as simple as giving a guest their blankets. My lips turned up at the idea of Ludwig sprinting from closet to closet all over the house.
Apparently while I'd been daydreaming, he'd come back into the room. "What are you smiling about?" I guess I should have noticed it before, but I could hear his German accent on the 'w'.
"Oh, I was just thinking about how funny it would be if you had to race around to all of the closets before you found that pillow." I wondered if that would make him smile.
It didn't of course. Instead Ludwig raised an eyebrow at me and threw the pillow. I've never been someone who was good with any sort of throwing and catching things… or, if I thought about it, anything remotely sports like, besides perhaps running. I realized that I was getting side-tracked again and I picked up the pillow from where it'd landed on the floor.
He waited until I'd put it down on the couch before commenting, "I didn't have to look through a closet in the first place, actually. I grabbed one from my bed. I don't know where or if we have any extra pillows…"
I don't think Ludwig had noticed, but he said 'we' instead of 'I'.
"That's ok. I'll be fine with one of your pillows," I smiled at him; making sure it was a big and bright one, "Hehe, its really comfy." I raised the worn light red cover to my cheek and rubbed the fabric up against the side of my face. It started making my hair get a little static to it though. The pillow shocked me when I put it down.
"Ow!" I held my finger to my chest, it hadn't hurt that bad, but the surprise made me react.
Concerned, Ludwig took a step forward. "Are you ok?"
Turing my head, I looked at him and beamed, "Perfectly fine, the pillowcase shocked my finger is all." I shifted my gaze back to the offending pillow and glared. Out of the corner of my eye I might have imagined it, but I saw a twitch of a smile on the corner of his lips. I was getting very close to making him smile already. My work was doing perfectly as it should; if not a little slowly. That was probably because he was so closed to everyone else all the time. He wasn't like that before… Maybe it had been so many deaths in his life.
He watched me from by the doorway.
I watched him from in front of the couch.
Neither of us said anything. Ludwig didn't seem to be paying attention to the here-and-now, and I feared to break his concentration, because he looked like he was in very deep thought. Then his face got a pained expression, like someone was hurting him. I started to feel that tug again; the tug of someone who needed me. It was getting stronger, and I wouldn't let that come to past. My legs were dragging me to the source.
I think it took him a while to figure out that I had moved, and a couples seconds longer to realize that I was hugging him; another for it to dawn on him that I was a complete stranger, yet here I was trying to comfort him for the second time in the last four hours or so.
"Please… please let go of me." His voice was solid, which reassured me that he was at least starting to feel better. I was glad. It seemed that he had a strong signal to me or something and my chest hurt a lot when he felt so depressed. I let go, but only half because he asked. I'd also thought that I had seen someone disappearing from the doorway behind him.
"Feliciano, what are you going?" He sounded confused, but I wasn't paying attention. Instead I followed what seemed almost like a shadow that was barely ahead of me.
"Feliciano?" Ludwig called after me again; this time following behind me and down the hall. He's voice made me stop and I shook my head before turning and giving him a reassuring smile.
"Nothing Ludwig. I just imagined I saw something." I walked back to him and squeezed past his large frame and into the living room. "And I keep telling you, call me Feli."
After that nothing much happened. He disappeared upstairs to turn in for the night, and I waited for morning to come. It wasn't long before I got too bored and was wandering out the front door. The sidewalks were almost deserted at this hour. I hadn't expected anything else. This town was small. Plus, by what little I'd glimpsed its residents weren't for staying up with a bottle of beer in the local bar. I personally preferred wine; even then, alcohol didn't taste all that great.
I was thinking about a lot of things as I meandered through the dark roadways. After a while I was glad that I could still feel Ludwig back at his house, because these buildings all looked the same as the last block did. I walked, and I wondered.
I contemplated what his brother was like when walking down Brennerstraße.
Parkstraße found me pondering who had been at the church and then in the house.
I daydreamed about pasta on Foxweg.
When I reached Frederickstraße I considered what I'd do to help Ludwig.
I stopped at the corner of Frederickstraße and Gilbertstraße, still unsure as what to do. I think that at one point I'd drifted off; too busy letting my train of thought get constantly derailed when I realized that the sun was brightening the hills to the east.
If Ludwig was anything like he appeared to be, he'd either be getting up, or already up by now… and then he'd realize I wasn't there. I tried to find my way back through the now lightening lanes and paths, but it was difficult. His hopelessness wasn't as noticeable as it had been the night before. Not that I was complaining or anything, because I was there to try and give him hope in the first place, but that was making it really hard to find my way home.
I tried to ask a flower shop owner who was outside her door if she could give me directions, and it made me glad that I knew a lot of languages. My German probably had a horrible accent, but eventually she told me three blocks down and one over would get me where I'd needed to go. I thanked her and sped off.
When I found my way back through the windy streets and managed not to get lost after following the simple directions, I walked up my host's front steps. After reaching the top, I put my ear to the door to listen for any movement, but heard none. Not even the dogs were awake yet it seemed.
After a very sneaky entrance on my part; I silently tiptoed to the couch to set up my make-shift bed to look as though I had a full nights rest. Satisfied, I crept down the hall to find Ludwig's room. As I rounded the corner to the hallway I noticed other doors lined up along the wall. One door in particular caught my attention. The door knob had dust collecting on it, and no one had removed the sloppy sign that said "Room of Awesomeness". I couldn't help a sad grin turn up one corner of my mouth. It all looked like no one had gone beyond the threshold in a while, but the door itself was cracked open enough for me to glimpse inside.
This must have been his brother's room.
It felt so desolate, so lonely. There was an unmade bed against the far wall and posters sloppily put up above it—I could only read one that said "Rammstein" across the bottom. The room was dark, and seemed like it belonged in a forgotten and abandoned mansion at the end of a pothole filled driveway.
Motion caught my eye near the closet and I thought I saw Loneliness himself crawl inside it with a gleam in his eye. It was like the house was infected with negative emotions or some such thing.
Ludwig would be awake soon, and I couldn't waste any more time just standing there. His room was at the end of the hall; the door was open enough for a ribbon of lamp-light from his window to fall across the carpet. A tight feeling arose in my chest and the tug of hopelessness started to pull me closer. It grew stronger and stronger, starting to accelerate and gain power. At this point, if I didn't do something soon, he will spiral into a hopelessness that was beyond my reach.
I peered into his room, stumbling forward. The sight of Ludwig tossing and turning in his sleep met my eyes. I almost didn't recognize him at first; his hair wasn't gelled back and instead created a blonde mess. Suddenly he rolled over and his face was toward the doorway where I tried to grip the frame to keep from running into the room. Soon he started to mumble, though not awake. "Bruder… Bruder nach Hause kommen…" His face contorted into a pained expression, and a tear started to slide down the corner of his closed eye.
It felt as if someone had set fire to a spear and plunged it through my heart.
I felt the burn of tears at the corner of my own eyes, but instead of walking out, my feet wrenched me from the doorway to carry me to his side where I wiped a tear away with shaky hands. I couldn't stand seeing the man that had grown up from a lost boy with big blue eyes I'd been looking for cry all alone in his sleep. For a moment he didn't stir, and the tug faded slowly as I ran my fingers along the very tips of golden hair and made sure there were no more tears from either of us. While I sat, I thought about everything that I could possibly do to make things better.
Rushing out Ludwig's front door, I ran off into a field that sat on the edge of the town to pick the dew covered flowers in early morning light. I could come back with a big bundle of them to put in a vase for Ludwig! My plan was flawless; everyone loves flowers. Well, that is, it would have been a flawless plan had the man owning the field not seen me and began to take aim with a shotgun shouting to "Stay the hell out!" I only ended up with two daisies, but that was okay.
It wasn't long before I'd run all the way up to the front steps and quietly opened Ludwig's door—gladly it was still unlocked from when I'd gone out. Maybe he was still asleep. I could slip into the kitchen and start making him breakfast then. I'm sure he'd like that.
As I tiptoed into the kitchen I found that someone had already beaten me to it. Ludwig was sitting at the small breakfast table looking out the window and holding a mug of coffee. He took a couple of seconds before looking up at me.
"Oh, you're back I see," he commented. His voice was tired, but other than that he'd done a good job of hiding any pain in his voice.
I grinned sheepishly, "Ve~" That verbal blunder that only showed up when I felt like I'd done something wrong slipped out and I bit my lip. "I went out for a walk, and didn't know you would be up before I came back, or I wouldn't have left." I remembered the flowers last minute, but decided on the spot that I'd go out tonight and get a real bouquet of them.
"Really?" he raised a disbelieving eyebrow at me, "You never struck me as the getting-up-early-for-a-walk type of person."
I supposed that if I did ever sleep, I never would be one for an early start to my day. That just sounded like a horrible way to begin your morning. However, a big breakfast after sleeping in sounded like a much better idea; waking up wearily in a warm house, coming down stairs still blinking away half-remembered dreams while the smell of food escapes down the hall. Next time I would make sure to be home in time to make something for Ludwig besides his coffee and slice of buttered toast.
He got up to put the empty mug and plate in the sink, and the movement brought be back from daydreaming about a perfect morning. It was too late to contradict what he'd said, so I was forced to either stay quiet or talk about something else.
"What do you like to eat for breakfast?" It was the first thing that had come to mind. I waited for Ludwig's answer while watching him scrub at a ring inside the cup.
"Hmm?" I think I'd brought him out of a pondering.
I repeated my question to him, getting even more curious now, "What do you like to eat for breakfast?"
Ludwig shut off the water and grabbed a towel, "Usually I settle for a slice of toast or bagel and a warm cup of coffee."
The response made me smile and pluck plate, mug, and towel from him. "No, I mean if you could have any breakfast, what would you want?" I started drying the mug and gently tossing it in my hand so that the hot surface didn't burn my fingers.
He started to try and take the towel from me, but I'd already finished and started searching for the right cupboard before moving on to the plate. "Well… I guess I'd enjoy having a breakfast like how Vati used to make on Sundays."
It didn't take me long to dry the plate and find the correct place for it too. When I'd finished and put the towel away, I leaned against the counter next to Ludwig. "How did he make breakfast on Sundays?"
He turned and narrowed sky-blue eyes at me. "Are you going to try to make me breakfast?" he sounded like he would rather me not, but I knew that was only because he felt like I was a guest. In a sense I was, but at the same time, I was humbly doing my job. Preparing breakfast was included in that, so of course I had to make one for him! Maybe I'd even make him several breakfasts. It wasn't like I didn't love cooking.
"No, I'm only curious." And I wanted it to be a surprise for him.
He looked at me for a while longer—during which I tried to look as innocent and smiled—before giving me an answer, "We had a different breakfast for every Sunday of the month. I did have a favourite though…" he cleared his throat, "He used to make everyone a potato pancake, soft boiled egg, and a small bowl of muesli—" I gave him a weird look and he elaborated, "—it's a German cereal. There was always a plate heaped with sausage from the butcher on Kohlstraße. Vati would set out slices of pumpernickel and bauernbrot sometimes. There would be Gouda cheese, salami, ham, and even tomatoes to put on the bread. We were all big eaters, so there were never any leftovers."
He paused, and I thought he wouldn't say anything else, but after a while he added quietly, "I'd always have cranberry jam and marmalade on pumpernickel…Gilbert would only eat his with so much Mett on the slices that it would drip into his lap when he took a bite…"
I could immediately tell that he was going down memory lane and wasn't headed anywhere good. There was the slightest pinch in my chest, but it would grow stronger if I didn't do something.
Frantically, I tried to think of something when I glanced at the clock and tapped his shoulder, "Hey… Hey Ludwig, it's almost eight o'clock."
That brought him out of his thoughts really fast.
"Sheiße! I'm going to be late for work!" He grabbed a bag sitting slumped against the leg of one of the kitchen chairs and ran out the door. I reminded myself to ask him when he got back what he worked as.
I ran to the entry hall just in time to shout out the door, "Have a good day!" He didn't turn around, but waved at me over his shoulder.
When his tall form had disappeared down the street I walked back into the house and to the kitchen. Now was finally the time for my plans to be put into action. I surveyed the fridge and pantry that were tucked back into one corner of the small room. Looks like I needed to go out and get groceries. I smiled as I found little white egg cups and all of the right cooking equipment that I was going to need. I made sure to put everything back where I found it though because I wouldn't require any of it yet and if Ludwig found something in the wrong spot he'd get suspicious.
Around midday—after a morning siesta—I headed out into the streets once again. This time I had a reason and destination in mind. Luckily for me I found a farmer's market being held along a short boulevard that ran between two of the main streets. It was noisy, crowded, and busy; seemed to me that the entire town was already there.
I headed into the chaos and looked around for the right ingredients. There were shouts in the air of great deals, but I ignored them, working my way along at my own pace.
After an hour of milling through the crowded walkways, I sat down and bought a sandwich for lunch before sitting down and watching people come and go.
Only when she talked did I realize that I was no longer alone.
"Perfect day for going to the market, isn't it?" She was pretty, and I recognized her as the worker that was at the café last night. Now that I was paying attention, I saw brown wavy hair pulled back under a white cloth with a real flower tucked under the fabric. Green eyes shared her smile as she looked out at the lessening crowd.
"Yes!" I immediately piped up with a grin of my own, "I've seen you before haven't I?" I pretended to pause and make a thinking face before brightening and nodding, "Yes, you were the girl at that café that Ludwig and I went to."
She laughed lightly, "That's right. You winked at me."
"Hmm. I did, didn't I?" I gave a pouty look of thought, like I was reflecting on my actions.
That high pitched laughter sounded again. It reminded me of bells; but one of them was ringing a sadder tune than the rest.
I waited until she'd calmed down before becoming serious. In the meantime, we went back to people watching.
"You knew him, didn't you?"
There was a sigh, and shuffling of skirts, but I didn't look over. That would have probably made her uncomfortable, and I didn't want to cause that effect.
"Yea…I did." She sighed again, and both of us knew exactly who we were talking about without having to clarify.
"How did you meet?" I usually avoided any topic that might make someone dive to deeply, but she seemed like someone that wouldn't let that happen.
There wasn't even a moment of postponement before she began. A deep breath let out and then, "I moved here when I was little. My parents were divorced, and my father moved here to escape from it all. The first day I was in town, I roamed the streets and came across this gorgeous field of flowers," by now her eyes had that distant look of a person remembering something in the far past, "It's on the edge of town, and looking out over all of those petals and colours…I wish I could paint or something; that way I could capture it's beauty and keep a bit of it with me.
"Anyway, I was sitting at the edge of this field—not wanting to step on any of the flowers for fear of crushing them—when I heard someone behind me. I looked back, and there was the most cocky, idiotic, stupid person I've ever seen," by the way she said that though, I could tell she wasn't being mean or rude, but stating fact, "Only a week later, we were rolling around in mud puddles like we'd known each other all our lives.
"I always had to go back to my mom's for school, but we both agreed that we were the closest friends. We got older, and he moved to a bigger town in order to get a better education. After a lot of begging and pleading on my part, I got my parents to allow me to attend the same school. For a while we shared a dorm, and even were dating for some of that time. We both decided later, it was weird and neither of us really wanted something like that, so when the end of school came, he moved back here and I moved back to my mom's house in Hungary.
"Later I came back, and I've been here ever since… Even if he's dead, I'm not going anywhere. This is my home now; I'm not leaving it just because he was being stupid again." She clenched her skirt in strong fists to punctuate the last word.
It was then that I realized that we were one of the only people still left at the market, and Ludwig was probably going to come home soon to find me missing. I think she noticed that too and traded the hard look for a smile.
"It's getting late. You should probably get home before Ludwig does or he'll worry." The woman stood and offered me a hand, which I took.
After standing I smiled at her, "We never actually introduced ourselves, I'm Feliciano Vargas. Call me Feli~"
She took my hand again, this time shaking it. "My name is Elizabeta Hèderváry. It was nice talking to you, Feli. I hope we meet again soon!"
When she started to leave, I waved her goodbye and grabbing my bags, headed back to Ludwig's house. I still had a smile on my face when I opened the door. I was sure that I would not be meeting Elizabeta again, but that was only because I'd seen how strong she could be. There would be no need for any emotion to meet her, because she would not let herself be caught up in despair or let wishful thinking in too long.
I always did wonder what happened to her though.
A/N: So, questions? Comments? Excited spazzes (it's ok, I do that all the time, feel free to share)? Reviews are always welcomed, da? ^J^