The first part is two days after Basch left Yao's house with Maxim. The second part is a month and a few days after the first part.
* •
Switzerland
December 29th
1958
Being unable to walk was something Maxim would forget sometimes. Since he spent an extreme amount of time in Karlag not being able to speak since he wasn't completely fluent in Russian and speaking another language results in punishment, it was easy to learn how to give things up. He has always enjoyed playing with his brother, nonetheless, somehow he doesn't have the same desire to run with other children. Even when they ask him to out of compassion or their parents' orders.
"What happened to your legs?"
A small child asked him. Maxim never thought he would be the "bigger child" someday. Every child on Karlag used to last three months, although there was a woman who lived fifteen years there since she was born. He smiled at the small girl thinking about that woman.
"They are sick."
He didn't say to her the sentence floating in his mind. Maxim tried to deal with his paralysis putting a deep meaning into his situation like Basch showed him in that house on the mountains. It took a long time for him to create an understanding that he preferred to be a paralytic outside Karlag than walking around the ground with bones from innocent people. Basch made him create that thought too.
Maxim watched the eyes on him on the train with attention. Perhaps people feel pity for his condition or they are disgusted; either way, he wasn't very compelled to care. He was relying on Basch, even if the Swiss was distant as the mountain peak he used to contemplate on Karlag. His hand had a deficiency too and his body was replenished with burned skin. He glared at anyone who would stare for too long at them. Basch was unprecedented.
"I love this weather." He commented to the Swiss in their seats. There was a baby crying somewhere and there were green hills outside. "You know? When it's sunny, but not too sunny and it's windy. I feel like the Earth is confused in a good way. Perhaps, inspired."
Basch blinked tiredly at his direction. He was putting meaning in small things again and the Swiss needs to carry on with it.
"Indeed. I prefer the really hot days. They are rare around here so I enjoy them."
Perhaps, it has been the longer answer he received. And he wasn't even asking anything. Basch wasn't that distant.
"Basch?"
"What?"
"Thank you."
His eyes lowered in a nervous response.
"Don't say silly things."
When they arrived in Switzerland the air smelled like roses and other flowers inviting the eyes to look at the same wonderful view than the wonderful smell. There are myriad countries in the world, but Maxim imagined that place was the one he could count on. He loved the view as much as he loved the smell. The window was sprinting in front of his eyes when curiosity reached him.
"Which city is Switzerland's capital?"
"Bern."
"Are we in Bern?"
"Yes."
"Do you like living in here?"
Basch's eyes got sadder. The scars under his eye were like something was stretching his skin until it has a cheesy appearance.
"I used to."
"Why don't you like it anymore?"
"Stop making questions."
Maxim shivered. Somehow, Basch was both gentle and scary. He started to count the colours in his head.
Blue. White. Blonde. Green. I miss Vladimir. He would like to travel like we were supposed to do as Roma people.
Perhaps time was spending faster since he was sad because before he knew they were already in a car. The driver spoke in a weird language to Basch and they started their way into the city. Maxim was feeling blurred since his thoughts reached his brother. He tried to be happy about being alive and well in a place where he can start over, nevertheless, somehow he wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Sleeping was an escape to him since he could remember. He almost never dreams and that way he can pretend nothing exists. He can truly dream on days. He used to dream he was somewhere where he doesn't have to work and he can play all day. He can also eat every day.
Sometimes he wonders if Vladimir was merely a hallucination and he spent his entire life in Karlag. He wonders if he even has a past to start a new future after or if he was beginning from the zero. It felt like a thousand years spent behind the wire. And the only time he could escape was sleeping so Maxim was scared of waking up. Even when he was in a car next to Basch. That man saved his life, then why he couldn't drag himself to care for him? Was he egotistical? Was he a hypocrite for not being able to accept his condition easily when he could be dead on the ground?
Maxim was confused about how the world wanted him to feel. He couldn't stop thinking about the quiet nights where his thoughts were simple as small puzzles, now his thoughts are confusing as math. Something changed when his mind, life and time were frozen in that Gulag.
"Domnule?"
Basch turned to face him.
Maxim wanted to ask if something bad can change the path your thoughts follow, but he didn't know how to put in words. The child was confused about his own confusion. Sad about the sad way he was feeling inside. He should always be thankful, even if people who are supposed to love him can not care for him and people who love him can not be beside him. Life was sad. Can he be sad?
"Nevermind." Maxim affirmed with a low smile. "Just more questions."
The Swiss looked at him as if he wanted to understand his mind. Perhaps he was also wondering how to use words.
"We have arrived." Basch affirmed when the car stopped in front of a big house with a large garden in front of it. The house was beautifully taken care of as an instrument. The windows displayed old adornments and gorgeous flowers. "This house belongs to Roderich Edelstein and Elizabeta Héderváry. Mostly to Elizabeta since Roderich is exceptionally a lost cause. Well, they adopted a child recently and they accepted the offer of having another. Which means you. They can be your parents if you want to. They can be your friends if you want to. Anything. But they want to receive you in their house while we don't hear about your real family. You should be grateful."
Maxim didn't know how he should swallow that information. He tried to remember his parents, but they seemed distant and all he could remember was Vlad.
"I don't have anyone to come back to anymore, Basch. I want to stay here."
Basch didn't respond, although he cleaned his throat.
"Don't be ridiculous. You will stay with them after I taught you the German language, but before you come here, you will stay with me. When we are finished, I will probably leave the country for a while to deal with something."
"Deal with what?"
"Don't be intrusive!" He retorted with a low voice and grabbed something on his pocket. "I will do my best to be a good housemate and I hope you do the same."
The car drove a meter to stop in front of another house. That house was less inviting. The garden was in a style Maxim never saw before, but even if he doesn't recognize it, he could see it was abandoned. The windows were closed as if it's been years since someone lived there and something about the house was heavy in his bones.
He shivered.
When Basch opened the door, Maxim felt less scared about the house. It was as if the house was only scary on the outside to avoid people entering. The place was huge and it almost made him drool when it took its mask off. The ceiling seemed far away from his head and the walls appeared to have kilometres of distance between each other. It was beautifully empty and Maxim wondered when he saw a house so big in front of him. He pushed the wheelchair until he was in the middle of the place with thousand paintings, thousand carpets and thousand lamps.
He gazed at Basch in the door. His glare was melancholic sad and Maxim saw something deeper in his green eyes. It wasn't guilty; it was more bitter than that. Somehow he accepted things, but he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the change. He could only feel the limbo between grief and overcome with discomfort.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Since you inquired first..." He retorted with anger. "Go on!"
"Did you used to live here?"
"Yes."
"Can I ask another thing?"
"Yes."
"Were you alone?"
Basch's eyes were closed before a single tear could slide through his cheek, but Maxim knew it would. He just could see when people were going to cry since Vladimir used to cry for any reason.
"No more questions for now, okay?"
"Okay."
Basch seemed surprised he agreed.
Maxim turned his chair around and wandered into the house like the curious person he has always been. The house he used to live in... Was it Russia? Was sad and a wooden box with too much noise in the silence. That place was a bigger box with too much silence in the noises. He couldn't decide which was more interesting.
"Sadly, you can't go upstairs. Happily, there are only dorm rooms there. But I can arrange an improvised thing for you downstairs so you don't feel trapped upstairs. You can go to the garden and on the street if you want. I just ask to be warned every time and don't go too far without an adult I know. A tip: Don't go out with Roderich he always gets lost somewhere." Basch clarified himself behind Maxim. "Happily, Roderich and Elizabeta's house only has one floor. You will have to sleep with their child in their room, though."
Maxim giggled.
"I used to sleep in a single mattress with another person since I never had an actual bed. Trust me. I won't mind."
Basch gazed at him with pity in his eyes. Perhaps he forgets sometimes Maxim was a child that used to live in Karlag begging for another piece of bread, work until exhaustion and fearing any type of punishment. Before that, he was a child trying to read the atmosphere every second since he couldn't be himself around his family.
"We should start classes now." Basch affirmed firmly. "Liz is coming here after her work to meet you and she is bringing Eike."
"Is Eike a boy or a girl?" Maxim asked since Basch wasn't using any pronouns in Russian. "You always call them only 'child.'"
"According to Roderich, Elizabeta and them, they are an artist. Refer to that child as 'they'."
Maxim blinked confused.
"Cool. I will refer to them as 'they', I guess."
"No more questions. Let's study German in the study room."
"Can't any place be a study room if you really want to study?"
Basch almost laughed at that and Maxim felt like he accomplished something.
"I guess you are right." He affirmed with his melancholy coming back. "We have one so let's use it then."
•
Basch was surprised when Maxim told him he didn't know how to write or read in his first language. He was even more shocked when he told him he didn't know the difference between Russian words and Romanian words.
"I used to speak something specific. Then the words changed and I started to speak like it. There wasn't a warning. Russian and Romanian, I think, have always been one language to me. It's like I have tons of synonymous or ways to use words."
The child was ten years old, however, he seemed to be spending half of his life in that horrible place. Perhaps, he never had a fitting place to grow roots. The Swiss spent half of the day teaching him how to read and write in German. He felt awful for not being able to teach him how to write and read in his mother tongue, but he didn't know any Romanian. Teaching Maxim wasn't terrible since he was showing an abnormal effort to learn everything and he seemed delighted every time he gets something right. It was difficult to teach him though. He was merely too slow in some subjects, but Basch couldn't blame him. He was still dealing with the traumas from spending a year of his life somewhere so horrible. Somehow he arranged patience to deal with him and his effort was noticeable and dignified. His curiosity seemed perfect to learn.
The Swiss thought he wasn't a difficult child. He somehow knew when to stop and when to continue. He seemed to appreciate every small thing Basch did for him; which makes the Swiss worry if he ever received simply assist from anyone.
"Repeat after me: Hallo. Mein Name ist Maxim."
He tried three times before he was successful and the smile he gave when he spoke adequately was bright and sweet. Basch didn't notice. He was busy trying to remember a single thing from the Romanian language. Or even Romania. Geography wasn't his favourite subject.
"What does it mean?"
"You are telling what is your name."
"But you already know my name."
"But you don't know how to say it in German."
"Why did you learn Russian?"
"My mother tried to learn every Slavic language after her Slavic friend died. We learned a little with her."
"We?"
"Don't continue the subject."
He swallowed the answer for a short while. His clothes were a mixture of Basch's old clothes and a hat. But Maxim wasn't interested in the hat; instead, he preferred a style featuring two strands pushed out on either side of his head. He looked cute with those. A little like a girl, but he didn't seem bothered by it. He was holding the stuffed animal Tiên Huệ gave to him from that room in China like a mantra.
"How do I say 'Mustard' in German?"
Basch blinked at his direction.
"Senf."
"How do I say 'Soup' in German?"
There was a knock on the door after that weird conversation.
"Suppe." He answered whilst he started to walk towards the door. "Stay away from the kitchen if you are planning on cooking something like that."
He answered the door.
Elizabeta wasn't the type of person that drags attention knowingly, but somehow she was able to concentrate every attention on her after she opens her mouth. She opens her mouth to pronounce a few words and everyone pays attention as if they wanted to know what she has to say. She was definitely someone willing to become a leader. She was standing proudly at the door wearing a suit and a ponytail – she never cared about traditions. Even when people would glare at her direction for wearing a tie she wouldn't notice. The Hungarian wasn't asking to fit or to be accepted.
"Hello, Basch. I am glad you are back again." Elizabeta greeted in German with the Hungarian mother tongue showing barely. She gazed at him with nothing but understanding about his new appearance. She didn't even consider his destroyed hand or how he was displaying the burned skin by his shirt. The Hungarian wouldn't ask about how his cheeks resemble famine and his eyes are lost and dizzy by the horrible scenarios he has seen. The girl who spent years of her life in Auschwitz wasn't asking anything. Elizabeta wasn't the type of person who gives someone hugs, especially people who don't like hugs like Basch. Nonetheless, she smiled as she was embracing his body tenderly. "I'm glad you are here. I promise I took good care of your company."
Basch scoffed.
"You transformed it into an International Industry. I think it's not mine anymore."
Liz shook her head making her hair glow with the wind. Her green eyes were definitely kind and powerful.
"It's your father's business. I will never allow anyone to take it from you." She clarified as a promise. Elizabeta gets to be extremely protective over the people she likes. She was the kind of person that puts an arm in front of you when you are crossing the street. "We can still hold your assurances if you want to get to the field again."
Basch sighed.
"Perhaps money can help me with another thing." He replied and held the picture in front of her. He saw the woman holding her baby and the words his mother wrote behind. "I need you to help me do this. When should we start?"
Elizabeta smiled with her hands on her pockets and a determined look in her eyes.
"When Roderich comes back to take care of Eike, Maxim is talking German fluently and living with us. We need to take care of them first."
"Where is Roderich? And where is the artist?"
He couldn't believe Eike chose to be an artist like Roderich. This was very reckless and doubtful.
"He is on a tour around Europe." She responded shortly. "Eike is over there trying to picture the wind with colours."
Basch looked over her shoulders to look at the child. With purple eyes and white-blonde hair worn in two long braids with an ahoge, they were part of a fantasy. They also had a mole that is underneath their left eye that is similar to Roderich's as if he was the biological father. They were wearing a red beret, a white vest with a dress shirt with blue stripes on it, a small bow, purple shorts, tan leggings and boots. Somehow, they were a quiet kid, even if they were like a siren in a matter of style. They were very creative and they were following Roderich's path in the art - That fact was disastrous to Basch since it was an unpredictable path.
"Eike, come here." Elizabeta called with a warm voice. The child obeyed and stepped next to her. She placed a hand on their hair. "So have you figured what colour is the wind?"
"I was thinking about what colour is a mirror, actually." They answered placing a finger on their chin. "I forgot about the wind."
"Let's meet Maxim, shall we?" She invited and Basch stepped back to make space for their entrance. "He is going to live with us and I hope you can treat him like a brother."
Eike blinked at her direction. Basch knew that child wasn't the type to demand things like a spoiled child, neither rebel against Roderich and Elizabeta. They found paradise in that place since they can make art and have parents that respect their gender. Basch thought how they thanked them after they were officially adopted.
"He is my brother. I want to know if he will be my friend." They responded and the Swiss blinked at how that child was deep in thought. "Perhaps, he can be my aesthetic vision like Roderich told me Elizabeta is his aesthetic audition."
"Aesthetic audition?"
"Something like a muse, but less romantic. Romance is gross."
They were still a child. Even if they were weirdly deeper in thought than most people.
"Romantic it's not like I would describe me and Roderich..."
Basch scoffed and the Hungarian laughed at his common reaction.
They entered the house with Elizabeta and they found Maxim on the wheelchair playing with the stuffed toy. He was obviously nervous to meet them. When Liz placed her eyes on him Basch bet she was already caring for him and promising to protect Maxim from every threat.
"Mein Name ist Maxim. Senf. Suppe" He looked at Basch with guilty. "Sorry... I forgot how to say 'Hello.'"
He was looking at him with such guilt that the Swiss wondered if Maxim was imagining he would shout at him. He hated to be feared by that small child and regretted being so difficult sometimes. He wished to care for people fast like Liz or see art in all of them like Eike.
"I-It's okay, Maxim."
Elizabeta walked towards him making her boot knock on the floor. She extended her hand to him and he grabbed with nervousness. Instead of shaking the child's hand, she caressed his fingers and kneeled on the ground to talk to him.
"здравствуйте." She greeted in a Russian that seemed like Finish. Liz has always been someone that learns fast but forgets faster. She would probably forget the words by tomorrow. "este minunat să te văd. Vă mulțumim pentru încrederea în noi."
Maxim smiled comfortably. Eike was staring at him with interest in their eyes.
In a moment, Elizabeta brought everyone to the kitchen. She put Basch to make the tea she bought on the way, Eike to help with biscuits she also bought and she tried to clean the place from dust and make it look like a home. The Hungarian placed Maxim's chair on the table for him to cut apples and he seemed happy to help them.
"It's cleaner than I thought it would be."
"Roderich and I come to clean it sometimes." Elizabeta answered and Basch stared at her thinking how he has never given them any key. "Someone gave me a key to take care of you during a trip a long time ago."
The Swiss focused on the tea trying to avoid further comments on that matter.
Liz sat on the table next to Maxim. They couldn't talk due to the lack of communication, nonetheless, Elizabeta was already trying to speak to him using signs. Maxim was laughing when she made a sign using her tongue. Basch couldn't understand a word she was saying by mimics. Eike sat with them; they were next to Maxim. Basch watched while making tea when Eike tried to put a finger on the other child's strands. The Romanian stared at them with nervousness and backed away from the hand.
"Eike, don't touch people without asking first." Liz disciplined whilst she stood up to help Basch with tea. "I know you are curious, but this isn't nice."
"Sorry, Liz."
Eike looked at Maxim with something in their violet eyes. They extended their hand as their mother did a while ago and waited. Basch thought the other child would give his hand to them, nevertheless, he was shocked when it wasn't the case. Maxim placed the same spot of his head Eike was trying to touch on their hand basically laying in it like a pillow.
Eike didn't smile, but their eyes were shining.
"I like him." They affirmed. "Can I draw him?"
Liz smiled and looked at Basch.
"Can they draw him?"
The Swiss chuckled for a small moment. A glimpse of laughter and he wondered when it was the last time he laughed without irony or an insane feeling of despair.
"Maxim." Basch called and the Romanian gazed at him from Eike's hand used as a pillow. "Can Eike draw you?"
"Only if he uses lots of colours."
Now Basch wanted to smile a little.
•
Switzerland
February 2nd
1959
Maxim gathered all his courage in a piece of paper. He wrote "courage" in German and put it in a jar. He clasped the cover until the thing was bulletproof in his mind. He wanted to ask questions to Basch on that particular day, but he was afraid of his reaction. Usually, the man isn't in a nice mood since they can only hold superficial conversations. The second the conversation was deeper, Basch would avoid any further subject and retreat. They were practising German together every day and that should bring them together - it actually did -, but what is the point of being close to someone if you can't run to them when you are crying?
The Romanian waited until the day was changing its circles with the sun glaring at the clouds in the garden in front of the old house. He liked the air and he felt he would suffocate trapped in that house all day whilst Basch is who-knows-where. The neighbour, a nice old woman with Aurum in her eyes and Argentum in her hair used to come every day to check on him, however, since Maxim was always on the outside, she was watching him from her house. Basch asked her since she was an old friend. He smiled at her when he noticed she was watching from the kitchen's window.
The air was fresh and hot in his hair whilst he was moving his chair around the garden with the jar in his hands. The Street was calm aside from a man walking with his dog.
"Maxim?"
He was shocked at how they can appear without being noticed even if they were wearing noticeable clothes. The Romanian gazed at Eike and smiled. They wouldn't be able to hold a conversation since Maxim was a slow learner of German. Of course, Eike tried to learn things to say in Russian since Elizabeta is learning Romanian and Russian, but they were abnormally weird and they learned to tell all the colours in Russian rather than anything else. Either their conversation is "красный", "белый", "синий", or they just smile at each other and says each other name like a prayer.
"Eike."
The child showed him a drawing beautifully made with crayon. It was the moon made with buildings as if its crater were merely smaller buildings growing on its surface. Maxim smiled and gave a piece of porcelain to Eike. It belonged to a cup the Romanian broke in Elizabeta's house. He was scared to be punished, nonetheless, the Hungarian was relaxed and even gave him a piece of porcelain that wasn't sharp. The children had a game. The Romanian would find anything he found it was interesting, like a feather or dead bug, give it to Eike so they can draw something with it. In the last week, Maxim gave him a flyer of a flat in Zurich that was called "Moonlight". That was a magnificent result. Eike said something about grass and started to search for something on the calm street with the sun enjoying its space on the clear sky. Maxim bet they were looking for a fairy and chuckled.
The Romanian gazed at the end of the street. He was waiting for a long time and he understood time. He almost jumped from the chair when Basch was coming home from wherever he was going every day. The Swiss wasn't the type who should wear social clothes; he was a lot better wearing a copy of military uniform. A tie made him look like a walking corpse who just awoke and wants revenge or something. He truly has the face of someone looking for murder even if he wasn't a saviour.
Eike was already distracted with the porcelain and their colourful thoughts, so they didn't notice when Maxim moved his wheelchair until he was in front of Basch on the sidewalk. The man glared at him with both resentment and deeper feelings that wouldn't be translated in a thousand years.
"Good day."
The air was strangely steady around him.
"Domnule?"
"Yes, Maxim?" Basch responded putting his hat under his arm. "Did you study the sentences I told you to?"
Maxim tried, however, German was impossible without Basch. It was too many letters for a single word.
"Kind of." He answered in a low voice with nervousness. He held the jar closer to his chest trying to keep his courage. "I need to talk to you about something important. Can we enter your house?"
"I was planning on doing that like every single day, so..."
Basch frowned at him with worries and they moved to the house. All the other houses were a reflection on the sun. In a second, in which they basically let Eike at home before he follows a butterfly to Italy, they were inside the enormous house. The room was filled with memories, although there wasn't single photography. It was like the memories became energy rather than matter and you can feel it in your bones without touching. Only looking at it was enough. The wooden floors and wooden furniture would tell stories if they could, but nothing more than a sentence. Can stories be told in a sentence?
I'm a human before I'm a mother.
Yes. They can. Maxim shouldn't pry secretive conversations. He can't remember another sentence from that dialogue, however, he recalls this. It was the saddest thing he has ever heard.
"What do you want, Maxim?"
Maxim gazed at Basch whilst moving his chair until they were facing each other. A single minute passed before the Romanian shrivelled in his wheelchair with nervousness. He held the jar closer to his chest. The Swiss glared at it with curiosity in his semblance.
"What is that?"
"A jar with courage." He answered cleared with certain. Maxim believed in that jar. "I needed it to talk to you."
Basch frowned and sighed.
"Did you kill someone? Just say it!"
"I don't think I can go on like this."
This sentence seemed to change his mood and he became docile for an instant. Maxim liked how his hair modelled his face like a portrait.
"Like what? Being a paralytic?"
"Not only that. In general. I don't know how to put it in words, but..." Maxim explained with a crack in his voice before tightening the jar to his chest. He started to feel bitter tears circulating his eyelids. "I don't feel delighted to be here as I should. I'm sad. All the time I'm alone and you leave me alone often. I-I like Eike and Liz, I'm probably going to like Roderich too when he comes back for what you told me."
He could hear Basch saying "Don't" under his breath. He didn't seem to like that person but he was constantly talking about him.
"But after a day spent there with them and a night spent here with you studying I go to bed and I feel empty. Then I try to sleep and everything is shattered and blue and confuse. And then I sleep and things are calm again. Another hour without that empty feeling is good."
He cleaned his tears and held the jar with "courage" closer to his chest. He remembered the nights he awoke and saw himself alone in the dark feeling the despair he used to feel in Karlag. The horror of every day and the desire to stay under the covers until you are at home again. It never happens. But things are better when you sleep. Maxim never dreams. It's just black.
"T-then I can sleep. I feel better when I sleep. But the worst part is when I wake up because I'm expecting to see two things. My brother next to me or the same chains I used to look when I was at the Gulag. If I think about my brother, I'm devastated he is not here with me. If I think about Karlag, I feel nauseated and sad I spent time there. I miss my brother. He was everything to me since I can't even remember my parents. He was here, but one day he wasn't. I don't know what happened. I don't..."
He cleaned his tears with his fists.
"And I feel I'm being a hypocrite. Am I a hypocrite? Hypocrite means being completely ungrateful, right? I don't quite know the meaning of words." He explained and tried to remember difficult words to explain things better. "I frankly desire things get reasonable, but I'm scared all the time I'm alone as if I'm going to that timeless and horrible place again without anyone. I can't forget what happened! And I miss my brother. He used to wear red and have a kind face, even if he was ugly. We used to play a game called Vampir and he is the first thing I remember. And one day he wasn't there when I woke up even if he was always there when I woke up."
Maxim cried more and his breathe got repetitive in small moments. He wasn't accustomed to crying at all.
"Is he coming back? Tell me it was just a play or a trick or a new game. He is going to chase me through the house while I am leaving a red string for him to follow like before. He is just messing with me and I'm not going to be angry when I see him, I promise. I want to see him again. This game isn't fun anymore."
Basch's eyes were wide when he stared at the child for a long time. Maxim was crying small amount of tears as if his eyes were only allowing less than it could. The Romanian was happy to put his thoughts into words, nevertheless, he felt afraid about the reaction he would receive from Basch.
What if he abandons me too?
"You know what? Forget I said something, please. I will help you make dinner and we can invite Liz and Eike. I am just a little depressing today."
He turned his wheelchair around. He was surprised when Basch grabbed the chair.
"Come with me."
•
Basch could see Maxim was tremendously frightened of him at the moment and the Swiss wouldn't blame him in any way. He wasn't the best at compassion and understanding, at least out loud. But he understood every word Maxim said to him on a very intense level. A lot happened in his life to prepare him to any disturbance, however, he was older than that child. A child! He had the amazing times where there wasn't a single worry in the world and the world was made of value and kindness. Maxim seemed to be born with a cross and there were thousands of children like him in the world. Basch couldn't stop his anger to think about how people cover children's eyes from seeing violence at some places of the world and cover their eyes with it at other places.
He walked and pushed Maxim's chair until the street became dirty and the houses became trees. Entering the Swiss Alps was passing small houses built in wood and passion. They mixed the adorned German architecture with the care Switzerland has and the passion you can watch in Italy. The place Basch was searching was a stone people don't usually look for as other precious metals. He searched through the Villages on the Swiss Alps until he started to push Maxim through the grass and they couldn't push the wheelchair further. The Swiss was too stubborn to avoid pushing the wheels until his muscles distributed the resistance to his bones and he failed. The child was shocked at Basch lifting him in a piggyback ride and started to walk. They didn't talk, but nature entrusted sounds to entertain them. The Swiss knew when they return the wheelchair would be there.
The spot Basch attained was the horizon of a solitary Village that had a view from Lake Geneva. It was a small village people wouldn't visit because the houses aren't the nicest or the richest. Nevertheless, the grass growing there was quiet and the air was pure until it reaches your cells. The houses had at least half a kilometre from other houses and the people who went there wasn't a friendly type, so Basel Zwingli was extremely comfortable there. He didn't receive visitors. That wooden house with only one floor was secure enough for him to deal with every nightmare he was experiencing. The yard was the best part. A big field of Edelweiss growing scarcely around, but there was one point where you needed to be careful or you are going to step a flower; they are everywhere you can discern. A livid heart of flowers as a crown.
Elise loved that place when she was alive. She used to visit their father and only stay there without seeing him. He wouldn't be ready to see her either. She didn't mind. The flowers were her tangible expectation there. Her ashes were there and Basch wanted their ashes to meet on the next chapter.
"This used to be my father's house."
"What was his name? Was he nice? I didn't remember my father, to be honest."
"He was an amazing human and a terrible person." He responded with a glare on the grass while he crossed the side of the house to reach the yard. "I don't know if you can understand that."
"He was a human before he was a person."
Basch chuckled. That child seemed very willing to say and do the right litigation to the atmosphere.
"Perhaps."
After Basch placed Maxim in the middle of the flowers, they sat together. The house was proudly quiet behind them asking for another glimpse of a home.
"I threw Elise's ashes here. Elise was my sister."
Maxim stared at him.
"Does she mind if I stay here?"
"Do you know what 'ashes' are?"
"No."
"When someone dies they burn their corpse."
"Oh, my goodness!" Maxim exclaimed in panic. "Why?"
"It is less problematic and faster. More symbolic, I think. Cemeteries are expensive."
"What if they are still alive?"
"Then they die, don't you think?"
He was terrible with words. Totally terrible.
Basch breathed deeply before continuing his monologue.
"I went to help people across the globe as a nurse because that was her dream." He continued and grabbed the thing he kept on his pocket. He showed the photograph. "This was my mother's dream. Find this woman and her child. The man who was married to them died and they were friends. Not the child. He wasn't married to the child, of course. It was his daughter."
He could hear his own consciousness screaming. Living years with people who don't know a word in German was sufficient to Basch forget how to be a human.
It? Seriously? Stop talking.
"My father lived here before he killed himself. He was not a good father. He tried. I think... In his own way. You know what? Fuck it! He was terrible."
Maxim blinked at his direction in silent respect. That child was ten years old, yet he knew how to behave better than most children. Eike would try to lay on the flowers screaming "My equals" and Basch would try to circumvent any conversation besides "Let's buy a toy to you". He should know Maxim would be different, nonetheless, it was still painful and heavily adequate.
"Ah, my mother died too. Shot in the stomach. Really long to die. Terrible." He said and his consciousness actually was trying to find another body. "Well, what I mean is... Kid, I'm not good with words, but I..."
He had a point. Where was the point?
"Not good with words that is it."
The Romanian stayed silent and Basch was irritated with himself. He was trying his best to put in words he understands the pain he was feeling and he had every right to perceive it. In an excruciating moment, he tried to tell his whole tragedy to a child only to make him see Basch was a catastrophe and they could help each other, nonetheless, he thought he sound like he was saying "Shut up, I suffer too. Get over it". Basch wanted to have Elise by his side. She used to translate what he meant so people wouldn't shoot him.
"You miss your sister like hell? Sorry. Bad word! Heaven?"
"I think is worse to use 'heaven' in this case, but fine."
"We are both bad with words."
Basch chuckled and Maxim smiled as if he accomplished something. The wind was good around his clothes. He hated to wear social clothes.
"You miss your sister."
Basch closed his green eyes to the horizon of his beloved home feeling the shivers trying to cut him. He thought about the nights he spent worrying about his mother. Was he really running for a ghost? Or was he terrified he would find his sister dead too? The last fortunate element he had was in that green eyes looking at him with such affection and reliance. He remembered how he watched his sister fall slowly with her eyes losing the beautiful life she had in the green circles. It was like watching a slow-motion accident from another perspective and every nightmare that made Basch run was in front of his eyes like a reminder he was truly alone this time. The reason he ran every night was, at least, selfish and unkind. He didn't run for his mother. Sadly, Basch accepted Lucerne's dead as a consequence of his father. But losing Elise would fall on him and he would deal with the enormous guilty. He was afraid to become his father. Basch was so selfish he tried to complete their dreams to relive his consciousness. Another selfish thing.
The Swiss held his head in his hands and let a knot in his throat be all the words.
"How long are a thousand years? Every day without her."
Basch stopped and stared at Maxim when he finished his words. His amber eyes glowing with the sun and the dust. He tried to fulfil dreams from his family to pay for his selfishness and he never accomplished a dream of his own. He was alive. That was a dream, right? Nevertheless, he learned with Maxim being alive is not enough to say "Thank you". People should avoid this fallacy. He wanted to make Maxim happy and protect him. He wanted to grow old and watch him grow up. This was his next dream. If he can't think about himself or stop being selfish, he is going to take care of that child.
"I understand. We are not selfish." The Romanian added with a smile. "Thank you for telling me. Perhaps, you can tell me about your trips someday. And I will imagine I am travelling too. My brother would like that. His name was Vladimir Popescu. I can tell you about him if you want to."
Basch thought he could tell about Elise as he told about Mei Chan, Hai Guo, Wang Yao and Li Xiao in that house. As if he was talking about a stranger. It was going to be easy to contemplate his life as a watcher.
That night, Basch slept next to him.
* •
здравствуйте = "Hello" in a formal way.
este minunat să te văd. Vă mulțumim pentru încrederea în noi. = "It's great to see you. Thank you for your trust in us." (Romanian)
Since neither Himaruya and I established a gender to aph Kugelmugel, in my story they are transgender. You can refer to this character as "they/them".
красный = red
белый = white
синий = blue
The neighbour, a nice old woman with Aurum in her eyes and Argentum in her hair used to come every day to check on him, however, since Maxim was always on the outside, she was watching him from her house. Basch asked her since she was an old friend. He smiled at her when he noticed she was watching.
I think she can represent the Romansh as a language and culture in Switzerland. I made her have all the things Basch never had in her appearance. I don't have a name for her, but I might think about something when I study more about Romansh.
I hope you understood what I did with Basch and Maxim. I hope you remember the story Basch told Elise about the Fairy's queen and Helve because I wanted to make a reference about it. You will see more about Basch and Maxim, don't worry. He still has the picture, Lucerne's dream and, in a way, Basel's dream.