CHAPTER 2: A SINGLE SPARK

There are things you'll never know; what it feels like to wander alone in the night. To watch the moths sticking to the lamps. To listen to the sound of accordion from afar...

Or to open eyes and take the first morning breath after sleepless night. In the atmosphere of complete indiffrence.

There are things you'll never know because I will never tell you.

Christine put her old diary off and sighed. These simple words she wrote over a year ago still remained true. The deepest recesses of her soul, her most private thoughts were never known by anyone but her. And never got to the paper again. It was the first and last page of her diary. She had neither need nor will to write more. She hadn't will to do anything at all. She was just sitting and waiting, though she didn't know what for. Maybe for a day when she finally admits that she lost.

But she didn't feel defeated. No… Not yet. There was still a part of her that felt alive.

The very last reserve of her will to fight.

xxx

Erik got up from his chair. What was that sound? Who dared to disturb him and to break the silence of his lonely contemplation? With mild curiosity, he took the Punjab lasso and made his way to the door of his underground house. The knocking on the wood not only wasn't stopping, but also becoming louder. Clutching the thick rope in his hands, he turned the key in the lock. The Punjab lasso swished in the air as the eyes of the Persian flickered in the dark. Erik drew his arm back, annoyed. The man standing before him looked too familiar to pretend he didn't recognise him.

"What are you doing here, daroga? I hoped to find an intuder and play i Requiem /i for him." said Erik dryly.

"So I'm not one of intruders?" asked Nadir, bewildered.

"Of course you are, but unfortunately I have to spare your life. At least until you irritate me." snarled Erik, letting him in and putting off the Punjab lasso.

"I never know whether you are serious or not when you talk like this, Erik." said Nadir, smiling.

"Today," Erik reluctantly ushered his friend into the drawing room. "You can be sure I am absolutely serious. What do you want?"

"Erik, why are you always unkind to people who want to help you?" Nadir's voice sounded weary. He knew what Erik's reaction for his visit would be like. He knew Erik would act like this.

"It's a habit." he replied sharply. "Have a seat." he said, lighting the samovar.

The Persian removed his cape and draped it over the back of a couch. He sat, gazing at cloths covering all mirrors in the room. Whenever he was there, these objects made him undescriably upset. Will Erik ever uncloth them?

Erik was standing silently on side, waiting for water to boil. He poured two porcelain cups and the room filled with the aroma of Russian black tea.

"So, what brings you here, daroga?" he asked indiffrently, taking a seat opposite to him and passing him a tea cup. Nadir raised his eyebrows.

"I thought it was obvious." he said, taking a sip of tea. "Are you alright, Erik? You don't look very good."

The only response he received was a sigh. Erik was drinking his tea in silence, not even caring to look at him.

"Erik, can you hear me?"

"Don't trouble my mind, daroga."

Nadir examined his face hidden behind the mask carefully. He couldn't see his expression, but he saw everything in his eyes. There was no anger or mute mockery any longer. Only deep sorrow and weariness.

"Erik, the last time I was here, which was about six months ago, I heard the same words." he said calmly. He seemed to have unending patience for Erik. "Aren't you going to change something? You can't ponder about past all your life."

There was a long pause. Nadir, not taking his eyes of Erik's face was waiting for response. This time his friend won't get rid of him so easily. He needed help, but never wanted to accept it.

"Tell me daroga," said Erik after a moment of silence "Did you get yourself a new wife? Or maybe you have new children?"

Of course he didn't… How could he? Nadir was a little taken-aback with such response, and even more embarrassed. How was he supposed to help Erik, when he couldn't even help himself?

"I don't want you to completely forget what happened, but… Look," said Nadir hesitantly. "I was thinkng what to do to help you… at least a little."

"I don't need your help, daroga." said Erik icily. "Neither yours nor anyone else's. And now, please, go away. I'm tired."

He put his cup off and started to head towards his study. Nadir clenched his fists. For the first time he was losing his patience. Erik was

"You're always tired when I want to talk to you!" he said fiercely. "Listen to me at least this one time!"

Erik stopped and turned around to look at him. There was an undescribeable stubborness in the Persian eyes.

"All right." he said. Once again there was a complete resignation in his voice. "Go on. Just make haste."

Nadir sighed with relief.

"So, as I said, I thought up something."

"Yes?" asked Erik with forced politeness that Nadir knew so well.

Suddenly, when he was to tell him about it, the Persian lost his confidence. He looked at the white mask on Erik's face and hesitated. Was it really as good idea as it seemed? But if never tell him, he'll never know.

"Erik, I think you should move out of this place."