Singing Snowberg
Chapter Five
Arioso <5>
Chros©
One minute later Salix stands by the bed. “Why are you standing? Like a horse, oh a handsome horse.” He sits besides me, unpacking my lunch, “who is he?” “Devo, a friend, he’s a scientist, he loves plants.” I pick up the blue flower, the flowerpot is small, only has half my palm’s length. “How much is that?” “No idea.” He stuffs a chicken roll into my mouth, “he must be a very good friend, hum?” He is jealous. “What are you thinking?” “What were you thinking? He’s very handsome?” “Yes, I was thinking about that, but I have you, it’s immoral to think about him.” “But you can’t stop thinking?” “Fair enough, if you came a little late we would be in bed. I’m joking.” “It’s okay, you’re an honest person, I love you for that.” “I want another bite.” “Feed yourself. I need rest.”
How could him not thinking, he’s a human. After lunch I start to massage his legs, I’m sick and I have to care about him, very fair. Ten minutes later he turns around, “how are you feeling?” “I’m prostrate and doing your leg, not a comfortable position.” He tests my forehead, “then rest.” “Could I hug you?” I run my arms into his armpits, some long seconds later his fingers catch mine, he has too much spare strength to make me painful, but I couldn’t tell him it hurt.
In the dream, I’m back to the night when Devo and I were taking shower together. He’s behind the mist, body swaying in the rain drops. This time I notice his feet, there’re red loops around his ankles. Right now this body is controllable, so I reach down to see closely, splashes hitting my back and neck, the hurt is real. These are knitted red ropes. “Why do you have these?” “They say I have demon inside my body, ropes are for the sealing.” I could’t tell him I love ropes on the body. “Because of the colour of your eyes?” His answer was swallowed by the familiar grinding sound.
Sunder tears apart the illusion and offers her hand, I took it as soon as I saw it, any seconds longer I’ll have a nosebleed.
Salix is smiling, “is it weird for me to see you both shower together?” Yes, but you’re a different Salix. “But you’re naked, should’ve grabbed your clothes.” I put on a spare patient suit, now I’m a patient.
We’re in a patient room, Sunder’s room, there’re many articles I’ve never seen. Stools, book shelf, bed, even the window frames are made of wood. What’s the date? There’s a calendar on the wall. May of 1994, that’s nearly 100 years ago! I haven’t watched everything and Sunder leaves her room in a hurry. She walks steadily, that means she has a definite destination. We were dragged to the playground, she joined the rope skipping game. People can’t see Salix and me because we’re not a part of this memory.
“Cyano, you don’t play?” I refused. Then Salix get into the waving rope, both of them have big smiles on the face, light as two feathers dancing with the rhythm. What kind of soul could be light as a feather? Maybe an infant, or a total loser who has nothing to lose. One or two times I saw the rope whipping right through Salix’s ankle, “it can’t hurt you.” “What’s the matter? The fun.”
Today is hot and humid, no wind blows off the heat, I’m sweating strangely already, but they’re getting more and more energetically. “Alright let’s stop.” Sunder leaves the game and walks to a girl, what does Cyan do in this place? She pats on her shoulder, “Hello I’m Nietzsche. Do you know? I am a poet.” Cyan is shocked to freeze on the ground. “He who has a ‘why’ to live for can bear almost any ‘how’.” The girl keeps her shock state, no words from her. Sunder sighs and leaves her alone.
Back in her room Sunder talks to herself, or to us, “Cyan always thought I’m just an imagined person, just like Salix, you, yes you. Sometimes I thought I’m not real, I want nothing, maybe I just want to shower warmth to this cold world to be a sun. So, I have to make them see me, make them realise the good is the warm feelings they feel and the bad is the unbearable coldness. I have to do something to save them….”
The wind’s blowing suddenly. She cuts a wound on her waist with a pen and rushes out of the room in laughing with the white dress made of bedsheet. When she reaches the playground the rain drops madly in the howling wind, everything becomes clear now, no more blur. Everyone’s one the balconies watching her dancing her best part. She is real, and she made us feel real. This is a story about how she became a mad woman. Look at them, those patients, are all watching with enlarged eyes, they want to see, they need to see. And here is Cyan behind the gate column, watching with astonishment. She must think this is really happening, or, a mad dream.
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