7.
(modoritakunai kako no watashi no kurushimi ni)
"Mom! Dad! There's a man outside!"
Hearing that, Josh felt embarrassed. He hadn't planned to be a peeper or some disturber of another people's peace, yet he might be considered one when standing in the gate, almost on someone else's yard... for now it was no longer his yard. Actually, the whole house had changed a lot - the walls had been painted in another colour, tons of flowers were growing in the garden instead of vegetables, the trees nearby were much taller than before, and the plot had been fenced in... Yet, the sight of that house had filled him with emotions so great that, once he'd come here, he just couldn't leave... and thus he was now standing here longer than proper.
"What are you saying?" came from inside, and a woman appeared in the front door, wiping her hands on the apron.
"See yourself!" a boy, who could be five years old, grabbed on her skirt. The same moment, a man went out from behind the corner and gave Josh a stern look.
Josh hoped he wouldn't blush... but maybe he should pretend to be more apologetic he really felt. "I'm sorry! I had no intention to intrude," he rushed to explain, taking one step back. "I just... I used to live here as a child and... I wanted to see that house again when I happened to be nearby... But I'm leaving right away!"
"My... Once you're already here, please, come in," the woman suggested and smiled rather shyly. Her husbands' expression softened a bit, but he still remained somewhat wary around a stranger.
Soon, Josh was sitting in the kitchen, that also served as a living-room, and, with a glass of cold juice in his hand, regarding the very familiar yet greatly changed interior. The boy, who'd been introduced as Michel, five-year-old, was staring at him with his round eyes, half-hidden behind the table. In a cradle, a baby was sleeping, and there was a black cat sitting on a backrest of an armchair. On the floor were colourful runners, while the walls were covered with bright wallpapers. Now that he was here as a guest, the flat still made a nice impression.
Mrs Rubin put a plate of biscuits on the table - one little hand reached to it quickly - and took a place next to her husband. "We wondered about the previous owners," she said. "We bought that house from the commune, but someone must have lived here before. It looked that way..." saying that, she looked questioningly.
"I can't remember that well," Josh replied somewhat apologetically. "I moved out nearly ten years ago... I lived here with my grandfather, but then I moved to Idealo... and grandfather died soon after."
Mr Rubin, who'd managed to give up the stern look and instead had decided to treat the intruder politely, nodded understandingly. "It can be that he didn't name a successor, and thus the house became the commune's property," he suggested. "Forgive me asking... Did your grandfather die suddenly?"
Josh mused. "For me, it was very sudden... but I think he'd been ill for a longer while," he replied in a soft voice. "That's why he sent me to Idealo... to Saint Grollo... He secured my future for seven years. It's possible he sensed it that he wouldn't live much longer."
He left unspoken what had just occurred to him: that grandfather had sold the house to the commune and had allocated the money to Josh's education. How else could he have such an amount? That thought was bitter-sweet; sweet because there was someone who had cared of him so much, and bitter because it filled him with guilt... Did he deserve that?
"You have certainly taken a good care of it," he said to banish such a reflection.
"It was in a great condition when we bought it," Mr Rubin replied. "Your grandfather knew how to manage a household."
"That's true," Josh nodded. "He always did all repairs and replacements himself."
For a moment, he became immersed in the memories of all those years he'd spent here... How many they were? Seven? Eight? So many memories... filled with sense of peace and security, above all. And happiness, now he could understand it. Despite being an orphan without any family... a stranger, Joel Or, had created a home for him, a home where Josh had been happy. Even more reasons to be grateful... He wished he could repay him. He'd been given so much, simply out of kindness, and couldn't return it, for grandfather had passed away before Josh had grown up enough to do anything for him. His remorse was eased by the knowledge that, at least, he hadn't wasted his education only had graduated from high school as the best student and had been awarded with the university scholarship. However, had he become such a man his grandfather had wanted him to be? He would never know that...
"I think it's time for me," he said.
"But you've only come...!" Mrs Rubin objected. "Stay at least for dinner."
He felt a pang in his chest. People who didn't even know him were so kind... and he felt like staying longer indeed... In the end, however, he shook his head. "I want to visit the cemetery... I have to catch the afternoon train," he explained with his eyes down. Well, it was true... but actually he wanted to avoid getting emotional when with strangers, and he felt it was close.
They gave him an understanding look.
"Thank you for your hospitality... And I apologize for this intrusion," he said, getting up. "I came here without notice..."
Mrs Rubin gave a soft cry. "Oh, my... I completely forgot about it!" She jumped up and disappeared inside one room, calling, "Wait a moment, please!"
Josh looked at Mr Rubin with a question, but the man was staring after his wife, who returned rather fast, and with a big envelope in her hands.
"As I said, the house hadn't been at all cleaned before we moved in. We had to give away or throw out many items," she said in an apologetic voice. "But we found some personal things... that is, photographs, documents... and we had no idea who could take care of them. We probably should have handed them over to the authorities, but..." She shook her head and then gave Josh the envelope. "I think this belongs to you."
Josh stared at her in astonishment, as if not really grasping what she said, and then stretched his hands to take the packet... and was surprised to see them tremble. Judging from the weight, the envelope must have contained a lot of paper...
"If you want to browse through it now, please, do so," Mrs Rubin's voice penetrated into his mind.
He broke out of his reverie; only now he realised what had happened. Emotion welled up in him again, making him dizzy. For a moment, he wasn't sure what he should do... Holding the envelope, he hesitated between the urge to immediate look in and desire to do so alone, and decided on the latter. He raised his eyes on the couple. "Thank you, but I'd rather go. Really... thank you very much," he uttered through clenched throat, "that you have kept that... while you could have as well throw it out... If I can repay you for that..."
"But, what are you saying..." Mrs Rubin was clearly perplexed, but then she added with a smile, "Please, visit us again!"
Josh felt that pang in is chest again, like always when he was given such unconditional sympathy. "It may prove difficult, I live in Paris..." he started and stopped, realising that such excuses were impolite. "If only I'm around," he said in a lower voice, and Mrs Rubin beamed.
Little Michel began to jump up happily, and his mother ordered him on the yard, so that he didn't wake his little sister. Josh used the opportunity and bowed his head before going out, the brown envelope pressed tightly against his chest. He was walking with his eyes down, determined to leave here as soon as possible, before he went too sentimental... but, when he was on the curve already, something made him look back and cast the last glance at the house that had been his home during most of his childhood. He didn't know when he would return here and see it again... although he realised that he would always be able to see it in his mind - a picture of a little, country house with a sloping roof, situated at some distance from other buildings and surrounded by a few fruit trees and one tall poplar. A place bathed with the sunlight... A perfect home for someone who had nothing.
He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and walked on, no longer stopping nor paying any attention to other scenery, no matter how beautiful. It was only when he reached the cemetery that he slowed down to come to a stop entirely in front of its gate. Should he first go on the grave or rather look through the content of the envelope that had so unexpectedly come into his possession and couldn't be forgotten? He glanced at the watch and decided he still had time. He sought for a bench... There was one free.
His fingers were trembling when he carefully tore the edge of the envelope, trying not to damage anything inside. It was packed tightly, so he had to put the papers out little by little. Finally, there was a big pile of bigger and smaller sheets on his lap - fortunately, it wasn't windy today, otherwise he would have had trouble - and he started to inspect it. Some were of rather uninteresting nature - official documents, letter from banks, bills and so on... He only glanced at them and decided to read them later, not of any need, only curiosity. Only to reminisce what grandfather had done or what they had done together.
However, there were also private letters, and he became immersed in them with his heart racing. Some were very old, from twenty years ago and even longer, and he didn't read them now; other, however, were from time present to him... and concerned his person. Grandfather must have been corresponding with the orphanage and Saint Grollo Boys' School...! The latter was obvious; he had arranged a place for Josh there, after all. Yet, with the orphanage he had exchanged letters a longer while after taking Josh in... It seemed that twice a year he had inquired whether there had been no new information about Josh's background, and been given a polite reply that unfortunately not.
Josh felt touched. He'd had no idea about that! And yet grandfather had wanted to illuminate Josh's past, even though he might as well have settled with having taken him under his roof and never bothered about it...! To tell the truth, Josh realised he knew pathetically little about the man who had taken care of him and had given him home. He would definitely have to read those letters later; maybe he would be able to know him better.
He brought another paper to his eyes, and his heart started to beat even faster. It also was a document from the orphanage, but it was dated much earlier... when he'd been only three years old! It was a report of kind or another... He swept over it: Joshua, family name: UNKNOWN. Born March 11, 19XX (3 years old). Place of birth UNKNOWN. Parents: UNKNOWN, might have died in a car accident. Arrived in orphanage April 4, 19XX. Medical condition: good. Development: normal. Vaccinations... Later was mostly the information on his health and behaviour.
Josh's eyes jumped to the third row, 'Might have died in a car accident'...
It was the first time he'd heard about it...! He didn't know a thing about his parents; he hadn't learned anything in the orphanage or from grandfather. He'd always assumed that the parents had abandoned him... had left him and gone away, and no-one knew who they'd been, so no-one could tell him about them. That's why he hadn't even had a family name before grandfather hadn't given him his own. It... It surely was like that...? Or wasn't?
He shut his eye-lids tight, trying to remember... and then looked again at the pile on his lap to frantically browse through it. He was relieved - but his chest ached, too - to find a photograph... he had forgotten for so many years. He was staring at it now as if it belonged to someone else's life.
A little boy with a dark mop of hair and bright, smiling eyes, wearing a woollen jumper. A cake with two candles before him. An inscription on the verso, 'Josh turns two years old. March 11, 19XX.'
He had had that photograph in his pocket when they had found him after he had been wandering about alone. That was what he'd been told later, for he'd been too little to remember anything of it. The picture had been later printed in the newspaper, too... but no-one had ever appeared, no-one had come to take Josh home. No-one could provide any information.
He stared at the both sides of the photo. That inscription must have been written by his mother... Mother, what an abstract. Even if he often thought about his parents - wondered who... and what kind of people they had been - he didn't really understand what the word 'parent' meant. He imagined it to be someone who was always nearby, who cared and protected... Someone close, very close. Someone who understood. Someone who loved and would do anything.
Had his parents loved him? Had they been able to do anything for him?
'Might have died in a car accident.'
Suddenly, he felt a violent urge to visit the orphanage. It seemed they knew something more... anything...! In the letters, they had written that nothing new - yet they knew something Josh hadn't known...! Yes, he would go there! Today, right away. He had planned to go to Idealo, but no-one awaited him there. He shoved the papers back into the envelope impatiently. They would surely instruct him at the station as for how he could get there... He jumped up, ready to run for the train...
Few minutes later he was standing by Joel Or's grave with his head down.
'Grandpa, did you ever regret having adopted such a hopeless person? I know I shouldn't talk like this. You wouldn't be happy to hear me talking like this. I know you loved me... though I probably didn't deserve it. I didn't even come here, all those years... I guess I didn't want to show myself to you... telling you about my life. I'd like to tell you that I'm fine... so that you were glad, so that I wouldn't disappoint you... but the only thing I can brag about is studying at the university in Paris... for I didn't succeed in anything else. Well, I don't even know if I succeed in my studies... if I can even do in life what I study about now. For I think I'm not good for it, either. As for the rest... I'd rather not say anything. Sometimes I think it's a good thing you don't need to see what happened to me. You cared about me and were concerned about me... I'm sure you wouldn't like to know I'm such a mess. Although... you probably wouldn't hold it against me... you would only smile and say, It's good to see you again, Joshua. '
The letters on the stone suddenly became blurred before his eyes.
'Grandpa, why did you pass away? I still need your presence... I need you to tell me I'm not alone in the world. I don't want to be alone... It's the most terrible thing. I don't want to be alone...'
He squatted down, trying to hold back his tears, but in vain - just as it was in vain to await an answer. Only the birds were chirping in the bushes surrounding the cemetery, but their song was cheerful. He kept swallowing the tears down; in fact, he was crying over himself, for he had already said goodbye to grandfather long ago... After his death, he had spent many good years in Saint Grollo, which had helped him to ease the feeling of yet another loss, of yet another parting. But now, when the situation was different, it returned, and doubled... along with the realisation that his life had so little worth... so little essence... joy. No matter how he tried, his effort would give no result... and he would be left alone.
He stayed in that position for a longer while, crushed with sorrow and sadness; finally, he got up and wiped his eyes. Crying over his grandfather's grave wouldn't make his life any better; that one was certain. He took a deep breath and, in order to focus on more palpable matters, had a closer look at the stone. It seemed that the cemetery workers had been caring for it... but some flowers would still do. He remembered that he'd seen a stall by the entrance. He went back to, after a moment of reflection, buy a colourful bunch of garden flowers.
The saleswoman - an older lady with sharp eyes - handed him the posy, but then her hand froze. "My, if it isn't that rascal of Joel Or!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Little Joshua! I wouldn't have recognized you if not for those cat's eyes of yours! No-one had eyes like that. But you're not that little any more, you've grown up pretty much!"
Josh focused his gaze on her. Her face was somewhat familiar... but nothing else. "I'm sorry, but..." he said, taking flowers.
"You don't remember me?" the older woman responded indignantly. "And whose garden it was that you used to steal cherries from?"
He blinked. "Mrs Almand!"
"Now, you do remember something. And here they say that only old people get dementia... Well, you haven't been here for a while," she said with irony but was clearly glad to see him. "It's some ten years since you left... To Idealo, wasn't it?"
At first, Josh was amazed at her memory... and then he remembered that in such small towns, where rarely anything big happened, people's attention was directed at the local society, and thus everyone knew everything about others. He distractedly thought of Mrs Bonnet... Well, apparently it didn't apply only to little towns, after all.
He focused his sight on Mrs Almand again. "Yes, to Idealo," he replied. "I went to school there. Now I live in Paris."
"My, my!" The old woman seemed surprised but also impressed. "I see that you're a decent adult already... even though you didn't feel like visiting your home town," she added mockingly.
"I visit it now," Josh replied with a smile.
"So you do. Better late than never," she agreed.
Josh raised his eyes and glanced over the low wall before looking at her again. "Who's taking care of... grandfather's grave?" he asked.
"The Mogans, like always. They take care of the cemetery, so they can tend to the graves of those who have no family." Josh felt remorseful; he really should have come here more often... But the woman's next statement nearly made him jump and forget all his problems altogether, "Joel probably had never expected to die after his son... Well, why should he? Parents shouldn't bury their own children, it goes against the grain."
Josh gaped at her, speechless; he wouldn't be more shocked if she suddenly grew another head. "Son...?" he repeated dully.
"I'm talking of that good-for-nothing... Jocelyn. He was a scally, that he was... and never grow out of it," saying that, the elder lady cast a stern look at Josh as if she wondered whether he remained a rascal himself.
Josh felt as if the ground beneath his feet collapsed. He really knew nothing about the man who had cared for him all his childhood...! "Grandfather never mentioned him..." he whispered as if it were some justification. "What happened to him?" he asked in desire to atone for his ignorance, although he was a whole decade late.
Mrs Almand changed her position on the stool, looking around for possible customers, but there were none. Her gaze returned to Josh, and she started to speak. "They would always argue, father and son... at least when Jocelyn was no longer a little boy. His mother died early, and Joel took care of his son alone. But it seemed to me he couldn't set limits for him... He probably pitied the boy for having lost his mother and didn't want to be too strict. And thus Jocelyn grew up to be a hooligan... Well, it's not that he was bad, nothing like that... He just was careless and conceited. He quarrelled with his father about every little thing... like he knew better... Maybe he really missed his mother, I don't know. For an outsider, it looked like he just wanted to spite his father. Personally, I think that he would benefit from a good spanking, but Joel of course wouldn't do it. As soon as Jocelyn grew up a bit, he decided to leave home... 'to go to see the world,' like he used to say. He was of the opinion that staying in the country wasn't for people like him... He took his father's car and never came back. Later, we learned he'd caused a road accident and had died on spot."
Josh froze. "When did it happen?" he whispered.
"Some twenty years ago, maybe more... You see, Jocelyn doesn't rest here. They buried him there... if there was anything to bury, in the first place... I heard it had been a terrible crash... We learned about it much later. As for Joel, it was a tragedy; first he lost wife and then son, too. He no longer had any family. I wonder how he managed to stay so positive. Well, it's probably because of you..." the elder woman kept talking, but he could barely hear her.
"I'm sorry... I have to sit down," he choked and fell on a bench.
The feeling that there was nothing under his feet, only intensified. It was as if his world had been turned upside down in just one hour. Could it all be so simple? And so complex?
No, it couldn't be true. He imagined too much. That people in the orphanage had suspected his parents had died in an accident and that grandfather's son had died so indeed, didn't mean that it was the same person in question. It didn't mean it at all. Hundreds of people died in car accidents every day; that was what his reason told him. Calm down and think about it clearly, instead of letting your emotions speak.
Yet, that part of his mind that had already been set in motion, was working and analysing it its way. Was reaching the conclusions. Was finding the answers. Why had grandfather hid it? For he hadn't wanted to return to those events? Maybe he hadn't want to tell Josh what kind of person his father had been...? They had never talked about it. Grandfather had just appeared in the orphanage one day, and the carer had brought him to Josh, saying simply, 'This man is your grandfather.' He still remembered those words.
Josh had always believed he'd been given the family name Or after him... And now it might turn out that he'd had it from the start...?
He took the flowers and returned to the grave, very confused. He put the bunch on the stone and stared at the engraved letters as if he saw them for the first time. Joel Or... He'd never seemed as distant... as unknown as now.
'Why didn't you tell me? No... Why can't I talk with you about it? Learn the truth? Maybe you wanted me to love you for your presence... Or maybe you were ashamed of it? Grandpa, grandpa... It wouldn't change a thing between us, definitely not for worse... only for better.'
Now he knew he had to visit the orphanage. To explain it. To confirm it. He glanced at the watch; it was only three o'clock. It couldn't be far from here... In Esperanto, everywhere was rather close.
"It was nice to meet you, Mrs Almand," he said to the old woman, although his thought was already somewhere else. "I'm glad you've told me that... about grandfather. Now I have to go, but I hope to see you again."
"Be well!" she waved him goodbye, although her face clearly said what she thought of young ones who were always in a hurry.
One hour later, Josh would arrive at his destination. A lady on the station told him that there was a direct line to Paco - the town that the orphanage was located in - so he didn't think twice, only exchanged his ticket and boarded the first train that went that direction.
On his way, he browsed through the rest of the papers in the envelope, but he didn't find anything to help him solve the problem. There were some photographs, but all from the time he'd already lived with grandfather. In different circumstances, they would have certainly moved him, but now he was too focused on his new discovery that needed to be confirmed. There were many old letters, as well, but no information about a grandson... None of them was signed by that particular name, either... Well, from what he'd heard, Jocelyn Or didn't seem like a person who would write letters to his father...
He mused. So grandfather couldn't be harsh with his son... and thus Jocelyn had grown up to be a conceited rascal who hadn't respected anyone...? Josh had also used to be a rascal, but later he had stopped... Maybe it ran in the family? With him, grandfather hadn't been strict, either; quite the contrary, he would be gentle, always smiling, helping and supportive... and would it have been possible with a child of a stranger?
Was Jocelyn Or Josh's father?
He felt dizzy again. Just a moment ago, he hadn't even known about that person... about his existence... and now he already fancied he'd found his father... A parent who'd been long dead. Did it still matter? Why was it so important to him? Why was he... ready to accept the father that he'd heard only criticism about? Did he yearn to have roots so much, the roots he had longed for the whole life? Lineage, origin... knowledge that he hadn't come from nowhere... That his parents had faces and had used to be living people. That he was their continuation. That was the worst thing: knowing that he hadn't even had a family name... that he didn't know a thing about those who had given him life... as if they had never existed. Maybe that was why he had always desired for another person's presence by his side: to find some foothold? Maybe that was why loneliness was so difficult: it meant floating in the void with no contact to others?
Or maybe... Maybe grandfather had read the notice in the newspaper, and that was why he had come to the orphanage for Josh? Now it seemed perfectly sensible.
But, if it was the case, why he would keep sending those letters, for many years, and asking whether there had been any news on Josh's parents? Ah, maybe he'd wanted to know who Josh's mother had been? The woman his son had become involved with...?
Something in Josh's head was telling him that he had got everything wrong. That he read connection into where there wasn't any... that he created his own visions based merely on presumptions that might have nothing to do with each other... And what for? It wouldn't change his past. His father wasn't alive - and would still be dead. Grandfather had brought him up - and what was the difference if he had been his real grandfather? Still, he wanted so much to confirm that blood relation... so much wanted to belong to the family, even though he hadn't even thought about it just a few hours ago. Now he felt he wouldn't calm down unless he figured the truth. For nearly twenty years he had been an orphan without parents - without as much as their names! - and now he finally had a chance to change it.
He couldn't think about anything else and didn't even try. He was like in fever, with his mind and senses excited, with his emotions clenching his chest so that he could barely breath. He would see the scenery outside the window only unconsciously; what he focused on was that the train was moving so slowly and he would never reach his destination. When he got off on a small station, he was under the impression that his legs wouldn't hold him, that 'the fever' took all his physical strength - but it all must have been about coming to the place that his dreams might quickly be crushed... the dreams provoked by one sentence from an old letter and one statement of an elder lady. He realized he wanted the confirmation as strongly as he feared refutation; it would leave him with nothing... like until now.
Paco was a small town - resembling all he had passed on his way here - so he didn't spare it any attention. At the station, he asked for directions... and it was only now that he thought that the facility might not exist any more. It said much about the state he was in, and normally he would be displeased with himself. Now, however, it wasn't of any significance; he had been guided by his need and would do anything to satisfy it. Besides, he comforted himself, the worker on the previous station had seemed to know where it was he'd wanted to get when he'd showed her one letter from the institution with the address written on it.
However, he learned that the orphanage was still functioning, and headed for it by foot. After less than thirty minutes, he was standing in front of the building he could hardly remember. No, he didn't remember at all... but he knew that yard, he knew that scene that evoked some funny feeling inside him, completely unlike anything he'd felt for last hour or two. That was because of the children filling the yard, just like long ago, always, regardless of the weather and time of year. Some were playing happily, running around, shouting to each other and laughing; some other were standing alone, detached from the group, and not so cheerful...
Josh stopped by the gate - and stopped in his activity. He immediately forgot what it was he'd come here for. He forgot it completely, as if had never existed. Everything he'd been living with for last two hours, had vanished from his mind and his heart... replaced by an unexpected willing to approach those sad creatures and talk with them. The sight of those little ones cast a spell on him... and he was crushed by a sudden desire to do something for them... help them somehow... The impression was so strong that he'd grabbed the pales of the gate to overcome the impulse urging him to enter, stretch his hands...
What could he really do? That thought, reasonable as it was, filled him with despair. He wanted to go away, not staring at that picture, yet he kept standing here, unable to move from the spot... but then a few children realised his presence and stared at him with surprise... with interest... with greed... He thought he understood those gazes.
"Can I help you?"
He twitched. He hadn't noticed a young woman that had appeared in the doorway and was now observing him, curious expression on her kind face. Josh snapped out of his daze and took a step back. How could he have looked like: a stranger standing behind the fence and ogling the children...?
The girl, however, didn't seem to think badly of him. "If you have any business, please, come in," she encouraged him in a gentle voice, which gave him some confidence.
He remembered he had a business here indeed, although suddenly he realised it was no longer stirring such emotion in him as a short time ago. He glanced at the group of children again, then mustered his courage and opened the gate. The girl waited for him and then showed him inside. She must have been at his age. Her brown hair was tied in the back of her head, and her hazel eyes were warm. She kept smiling, which only added to the nice impression she made. She seemed a perfect person in this place.
"You were standing there and observing the children with such longing," she said openly as they walked the corridor smelling of lavender, "that for a moment I thought you wanted to adopt one of them. But you're much too young, so forgive me having such thoughts."
Josh brushed his hair aside. "I used to live here... for some time... long ago, as a child," he explained.
"Ah," she replied, and a sudden understanding and sympathy were to be heard in her voice. "And you came for a visit?" she guessed.
"I came... I came because..." What should he say? To whom? "Are you a director?"
"No, of course not!" she laughed, turning to him, as if she found the very thought amusing. "I only help Madame Zircon. Do you wish to speak with her?"
Josh mused. Zircon... That name certainly rang a bell... Well, yes, he'd just seen it in the letters. He banished away an absurd thought that he was in the right place. "Yes, if possible."
He realised again that he should have called... arranged the meeting... not come here blindly, bother those people... They could be busy with their duties and many things to attend to... He might have found no-one capable of answering his questions. It would only be reasonable to have notified them... But he couldn't wait. Besides, such thoughts were pointless now that he already was here and about to talk with a proper person, or so it seemed. He was really lucky.
The girl asked him to wait a moment and disappeared. Josh looked around the room. He didn't remember it at all... and, to tell the truth, the building seemed much newer it should. Was Josh's memory so bad already? Or had they had a general renovation? Actually, it had been very long since he'd left here... And he'd been very young, too, no older than four years old. Many things might have happened during that time, and it would be rather strange if he had remembered everything perfectly.
He didn't wait long. The young carer, who had introduced herself as Marise just a moment ago, came back and invited him to the director's office. Josh had no idea whom he should expect, maybe someone like Madame Montagne... However, he was greatly mistaken, for Madame Zircon appeared to be a slight woman with grey hair... But, when he looked closer, he came to the conclusion that the look in her brown eyes was as intent as that of the head nurse in Sainte-Jeanne Hospital, and her expression was firm. Both women must have been of similar age.
Madame stretched her hand, regarding him in a penetrating manner. "Juliette Zircon," she said, squeezing his fingers. "I suppose we have met before...?"
"I think so. That is, if you worked here fifteen-twenty years ago, Madame," Josh replied somewhat hesitantly. "I'm Joshua... Joshua Or. I lived here for some time," he added, although Marise must have already informed about that.
"Ah, Joshua!" she smiled, apparently remembering him. "Forgive me, I don't remember you that much... Rather your story."
Josh felt his heart leapt, as if he was waking from that strange trance he'd been experiencing in this place. "I... I think that's the reason for my being here today," he said quietly. He decided it was better to speak openly instead of beating about the bush. He hadn't come here for a chit-chat, after all. The woman gave him a questioning look. "Could you spare me some time, Madame?" he inquired. "There are some things I'd like to ask you about."
After a moment, she nodded and showed him on the couch. They sat down. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?" she offered.
"Something cold, thank you..."
Madame Zircon nodded to Marise, who was waiting in the door for the instructions. The girl left, only to soon return with a jug of juice. She made sure she was no longer needed and disappeared again.
Josh filled his glass; the drink smelled nicely, of raspberries, and tasted even better. "I don't want to take much of your time, Madame," he said, having satisfied his thirst... at least that physical. "You probably know what it is I want to talk with you about... to ask you about."
She nodded slowly. "You want to ask about your childhood, about your past. About what had happened before you came to our facility, for you were too young to remember, right?" it was more a statement than a question. She must have had many conversations like this during all those years of work in an orphanage... But her next words surprised him, "Tell me about yourself, it will help me remember you better," she proposed.
He quickly decided she couldn't remember in details events from over fifteen years ago, so he nodded and gathered all facts he'd already known. "I was born on March 11," he said and added the year. "I came here in April, two years later. It seems I was wandering around the area, and no-one here knew me, but I had that photograph with me..." He looked inside the envelope and began to search for the picture with his trembling fingers. When he found it, he showed it to her. "Hence my first name and my date of birth... but nothing else. I spent here over a year, and then grandfather... I mean, Joel Or," he corrected quickly, "took me from here to care about me like his grandson. Later, I lived for many years in his house, in Suno..."
"Right, Suno... That was it," Madame Zircon said, returning the photograph to him. "I just couldn't remember the place."
Josh gave her an intent look. "Grandfather would keep exchanging letters with this facility... with you, Madame. He asked whether there was any information about my origin, didn't he?" Madame Zircon nodded, so he went on, "You said you remembered my... story. And I found... in one of those documents," he browsed through the pile of paper again, "the information that my parents might have died in a car accident." He found the right sheet and handed it to her. "I had no idea of it myself... Could you please tell me more about it, Madame? Maybe there are some documents, some information I don't have...? I couldn't find anything more here..."
Madame Zircon's gaze swept over the writing, and then she gave it back to him. She stared at him for a moment and then suppressed a sigh and averted her eyes. "Unfortunately, we have to rely on my not very good memory. There are no documents, Joshua," she said outright, and Josh felt his heart freeze. "A few years ago, there was a fire here. All the records were lost in it... and good that only that," she added with irony before looking at him again and shaking her head, "I'm sorry. I'm the only person that can tell you anything."
Josh swallowed the sudden feeling of disappointment. Then, Was it pointless to have come here? He felt tired and dejected. "That's a shame..." he whispered, lowering his head. "I was sure I could learn... confirm my suspicions..."
"I think it's too early to give up," Madame Zircon interrupted him. "On the other hand, there were always too many unknown facts about that matter, ones that were never explained. I want to say that even if our archives had still existed... that is, if we could use documents from that time, it wouldn't help you anyway, for later we never got any new information concerning you... Nothing else that we knew from the start," she emphasised, looking at him closely.
Josh nodded automatically, although he was still of the opinion the irreparable harm had been done, and he was the loser.
"Earlier I said that I remembered your story better than yourself, and this is true, for it is engraved on my memory... as well as everyone's that worked here that time and probably even many of local people's... because you came here in very atypical circumstances," Madame Zircon explained, and Josh felt his hope was being renewed. He raised his eyes and looked at her shyly. "Children we care about here are often... Well, we know who they are in vast majority of cases. Those are local children, who lost their parent... parents. Or were sent here when parents could no longer care about them. Even if an unfamiliar child comes here, we usually are able to identify them," she explicated.
Josh decided it sounded rather reliable.
"However, your case was different," Madame Zircon said. "Like you said, you were found wandering around all alone. No-one knew who you were. We put the notice in the newspaper, along with that photograph," she pointed at the picture on his lap, "but no-one contacted us, no-one provided any information... Later, we learned that a smashed car had been found in the neighbouring town, far from the main road... Well, it wasn't smashed, only burnt to the core. They could only ascertain it hadn't belonged to the locals; it must have been someone from outside. But it was many kilometres from where you were found, while two-years-old child wouldn't be able to walk such a distance; that's what we thought that time..." She mused, and her eyes lost its sharpness; apparently, she was reminiscing those events. After a moment, she fixed her gaze on him again. "Nevertheless, it was the only trace we had: you, a child unknown to anyone, and that car accident in which some strangers had been. That's why it was written in that document... but with great caution," she stressed.
Josh stared to the side, but he couldn't really see what was before his eyes; he was looking at the depths of his memory and his life, that still had so many unanswered questions. "I didn't know about that..." he whispered.
"Those were too drastic details to be told two or three years old child," Madame Zircon replied. "As for your guardian... He probably had reasons for not revealing them to you."
Josh felt agitated. "He didn't say a thing... And now I'll never know it!" His fingers clutched in the envelope, but he relaxed them right away, for he didn't wish to ruin the papers, and looked at the woman again. "So you say that... that accident happened not so far from here?"
"Yes."
"And it was never revealed who had ridden that car?"
She shook her head. "As far as I know, never."
Josh kept staring at her and struggling with himself. Once he said that aloud, there was no return... But that was what he'd come here for: to ask about that particular matter. Still, it took a longer while of silence, filled only with the ticking of he clock, before he dared to speak. "Madame... Is there any... any chance that... that car could have been driven by... my grandfather's son... Jocelyn Or?" he whispered, regarding the woman with eyes wide open.
She frowned. "Why did it occur to you?" she asked in astonishment.
Josh tucked a strand of his hair behind one ear in a nervous gesture. However, once he'd started, it was easier to talk. "Today I learned that... that his only son had died young in a car accident... just when I received those papers," he confessed. "I thought it couldn't be a coincidence... I had to come here, to ask... if it is possible that... I was... that I really am Joel Or's grandson," he added helplessly yet beggingly. "Can you tell me about it...?" he uttered, although he realised he felt like an idiot.
Madame Zircon was still looking at him with her brows knitted, but she didn't seem to consider his question wrong... or just stupid. "Let me think a moment," she asked in a gentle voice. "I have a terrible memory of names... of places, but much better of dates and events. And conversations. Please, let me think a moment," she repeated.
Josh was sitting on the couch; his heart was racing. He poured himself some juice, for his mouth was dry, and drank it in one gulp, while Madame Zircon put one hand to her forehead and visibly became immersed in thought.
Only now he realised how much had happened since morning. For the last few hours he'd been running... chasing after something that could as well be not true. He'd been searching frantically, speaking with new - familiar - people, visiting far - close - places... Quite unexpectedly, his life had been turned upside down - or, at least, his thoughts had. He should be in Idealo now. In the morning, when he'd boarded the train, he hadn't even imagined that something so shaking might happen... that something could push him off course, both literally and metaphorically. He'd departed from Sainte-Jeanne in order to break away from the sadness he'd experienced there... and now he noticed he hadn't spared Gilles a single thought, even though the boy's death had been such a tragedy only yesterday. True, it was good to occupy himself with different things - to drive away the despair - but what did such complete detachment say of him? Such oblivion?
What was more, he hadn't thought of Alain, either! It was as if the current issue was only his problem, which he wished to deal with alone. Well, it was, but not so long ago he'd been sure he'd wanted to share everything with Alain. Well, to tell the truth, Alain wasn't a perfect company to converse on any family matters, for he didn't want to speak of his stepfather at all, didn't know his biological father, and his relationship with mother was, to put it mildly, bad. As for Josh, he had become an orphan in early childhood and had nothing to say on the topic... Maybe that was why, now that the problem had arisen, he'd 'forgot' about Alain, for one thing just didn't relate to other...? However, now he wished Alain were here... but, then again, he'd always wanted Alain to be there, by his side, so it wasn't anything special, really. Besides, it wasn't even certain that Alain would have felt good here; after what happened with Grace and Georges, he might felt reluctant about places like this one. Josh felt a sudden loneliness and shrunk on the couch.
No, he couldn't pretend it was nothing; the matter had preoccupied him to the fullest. Maybe it was some intentional action, too? He'd needed a counterbalance for what had happened in Paris... no, in Sainte-Jeanne, and such revelation on his own past were just perfect for this purpose. Looking at Madame Zircon's intent face, he asked himself what the chances that he was really related to Joel Or were - and answered himself that very little. Non-existent. Mrs Almand would have surely told him that, would have reacted in another way... Yet nothing in her words had indicated she'd considered him to be Jocelyn Or's son. Everyone must have thought - known - that Joel Or had adopted an orphaned boy... not that he had taken care of his grandson.
Not that it made any difference. It didn't, none at all.
Still, he felt disappointed at the thought it was all just his daydream. He even wished he hadn't asked Madame Zircon about it. Maybe he should have been happy with daydreams...?
And then, once more, he thought he was an idiot. Whatever he might do, whatever he might learn, it wouldn't change a thing about his past. Twenty years of life... they had been real. Every day, so many good days - with grandfather, with Erwin, with Alain... In Suno, in Idealo, in Paris. He was Joshua Or, and no-one else. What did it matter who his parents were? He'd been doing perfectly well without them.
Madame Zircon looked at him again and clasped her hands on her lap. Apparently, she was ready to give him the answer, whatever it might be... "I can't quote you the exact words," she warned him right at the start, and Josh gulped, "but I'm sure that when your guardian contacted us... when we talked about you... he said something like that, 'I lost my son in an accident years ago. Had it not happened, I might have had a grandson like that little one now.'" She gave Josh even more penetrating look. "He said, 'years ago', so he just couldn't have referred to what had happened here when you were found. Besides... He must have known where and when it had occurred," she pointed out, "and that his son had been a victim. But those people who had died here couldn't be identified... it was simply impossible," she added in a lower voice.
Josh was sitting still. What he'd just heard sounded so logic, so sensible, so unquestionable... He'd thought he would be dejected, crushed by the truth... and now he understood that deep inside he'd expected such an answer. In truth, he'd known all along that the answer couldn't be different, and yet something had made him come here, follow an empty hope... Maybe that was because he'd never feel satisfied with daydreaming, it just wasn't his way... he'd always preferred truth over fiction, even if he often couldn't really see it. Or maybe he'd just decided it had been better to pursue this matter than give in to depression due to Gilles... to catch that Ariadne's thread, even it it would take him to quite another place he'd assumed. Another places could be nice, too. Actually, now he felt he'd got rid of some load - uncertainty, feeling of loss. Now he was standing on what he'd been standing on so far - and it wasn't that bad.
"Are you disappointed?" Madame Zircon asked gently, reading his mind.
He shook his head and fixed his eyes on her. "No. And I don't regret having come here, either," he replied truthfully, straightening up.
It seemed that response pleased her. "What are you going to do now?" she inquired.
He hadn't thought of it... but there were not many options anyway. "I guess I'll go to Idealo, just as I initially planned," he decided.
"Won't you like to spend night here?" she offered. "I'd love to talk with you longer. Even if it was for a short while, you did live here. I'm always happy to hear about how our charges do in life."
"I don't want to be a problem," he said like he used to.
Her eyes flashed. "In a way, it is your home," she retorted but checked herself, "But I suppose it's not a home to be nicely remembered..."
Josh realised he had involuntarily hurt her. "Please, don't say that," he rushed to reply. "You... You took care of me when I had no-one else." He nodded. "Like you said, it was my home, for a while," he repeated in a serious voice. "True, when I lived with grandfather already, I didn't want to reminisce this place... but it was not because I had felt bad here, only..."
"Only because here you were an orphan," she finished calmly. "I understand it perfectly. In any case, I insist that you stay the night. Unless you already have an appointment in Idealo...?"
Josh shook his head. "No, I'm now awaited there..." he replied openly, "so I'm glad to accept your invitation."
Madame Zircon smiled. "The children will be happy. We rarely have guests, so it's a significant attraction for them."
"May I... May I talk to them?" Josh asked on impulse.
"But of course!" She clearly rejoiced his suggestion. "Only don't let them tyrannise you."
"Why? Do you think it could do them harm?"
"Not them. You. "
Josh had to smile - and her eyes also brightened playfully, which couldn't be seen until now - but he soon became serious again. "Madame Zircon... Is there a police station in Paco?" he asked. "Or... Do you know where I can learn more about that car accident...?" He just couldn't leave that matter, even if he wouldn't widen his current knowledge at all, which was likely.
"Yes, there is," she nodded. "It is our district police headquarters that investigated that incident."
"Then, I'm going to visit them now."
"But today is Saturday," she noticed. "I doubt anyone could attend to you there."
"Ah, right..." Thanks to all that, he'd lost his sense of time.
"Of course, if you feel like, you can stay until Monday," Madame Zircon said in a casual voice.
Josh fixed his gaze on her and nodded distractedly. Now it didn't seem such a bad idea. He had to return to Sainte-Jeanne by Wednesday evening... He had plenty of time.
Madame rose from the couch, so he got up, too. "I'll ask Marise to prepare a room for you," she said with verve. "We have dinner at six; I'll show you were our dining-room is. And where you can refresh after the journey, too." She approached the door and invited him to follow her.
"Thank you," he said, his throat suddenly clenched. "You don't need to care about me that much..."
She stopped in her tracks and turned back to look at him in an utter amazement. "Why else are we here for?" she replied with a smile before resuming to walk.
Josh breathed deeply and followed her; however, it took him a while to be able to speak normally again.
He couldn't resist the impression that for a longer time he'd been encountering only good people.
My pain from a past I wish not to return to - Eri Kawai, "Madoromi no rinne"