Welcome back. The journey between two worlds continues.
Chapter 04 – Longing
Nathan was looking at his old car with relief and maybe curiosity. He took one step backwards and started to feel unsettled, as this car is no longer the right one.
“Was I so tired that I slept in the car? Was it all just a dream? Have I slept all day? Damn… Mr. Brownson is going to kill me. Or worse. Fire me!”
He took another step backwards, and a happy, short bark made him jump and release a high‑pitched sound.
“Scusa! Scusa! Amigo is very happy. Bona sera, Natalino! Ciao!” said the Italian neighbor after calling the dog with a short whistle, and then he left continuing his jogging before Nathan could reply.
He watched the car again, hoping to see it transform, or at least the blue field that he had become accustomed to. But… nothing… The way back home was as normal as it could be. Only the sudden streetlamps turning on made him stop for a bit before continuing.
Everything returned to normal. Too normal, considering the experiences of the past day. Suddenly, routines and predictability did not feel comfortable anymore. Mr. Brownson suddenly looked too greasy, too pushy, and annoying enough to make him snap at him, almost shouting to let him finish the task at hand before receiving new ones. An outburst that many of his colleagues believed was as brave as it was nuts. They had no idea that for him everything that was once normal, now it feels totally unfit, false even.
For this reason, he no longer felt the urge to fit in. To stay in line just not to risk his job, or something. Not a daredevil feeling, though. More like a redesigning of his own boundaries, the role that he needs to play. And for the first time since he started this job, he put in, out of the blue, for two weeks of vacation. Twice as much as he had ever taken. Yet, he had no plans to do anything or go anywhere. He simply felt that going to work had to be taken out of his daily routine. He had no idea how true this feeling would prove to be.
The first day he pretty much spent in the house or on the terrace. He finished all the leftovers from the fridge, and some instant Chinese noodles he found in the pantry. They were expired by almost a year, but he didn’t care, thinking, “Boiling will kill anything anyway.” He tried to read something without success, watched a movie, and before he knew it, the day came to an end.
For the next day, he planned to do some groceries shopping and, before going to sleep, prepared a list on his phone. Just before tucking in, he woke slightly, took the phone, and added “cat food,” then went back to sleep.
Next morning he woke up with a clear picture in his mind: the forsythia in full bloom, needing trimming, and planned to do it before going shopping. Half asleep, he powered on the coffee machine and, after the start‑up cycle, checked if it was set to maximum concentration, as if someone else could have changed the settings, habit carried him out from work. He is one of the few that likes strong black coffee. As all was in order, he pushed the button. He listened to the sound of the coffee grinder with his eyes closed, only to open them and watch, mesmerized, as two streams of hot coffee filled his cup.
With the cup in his hand, he went to the small cupboard on the left side of the backyard door, picked up a pair of trimming scissors, placed them under the left armpit and with the coffee cup in hand he stood in front of the backyard door in awe.
The backyard was still under winter’s grasp. White patches from the last snow were still visible. The forsythia was bare naked, as was the old, bent willow. Was it a memory or a dream? He could no longer tell. He opened the door and let the cold air brush his face. This was real, but somehow it did not feel as real as the forsythia that needed trimming.
A gentle brush against his leg and a sharp “meow” brought him back from the dream state. He put the scissors on the terrace table, grabbed a can of cat food, and placed it in front of his cat.
“It was so real. Wasn’t it? No… it had… no… it must have been…” he murmured while gently stroking the happy, purring cat and staring at the winter‑dressed forsythia bush. The flashback with Shara kissing him made its presence.
“Sarah…yes… I need to find her,” he said with conviction, then rushed to the laptop in the living room.
He spent a few good hours looking at all the hospitals and clinics he could find on the net, searching for a doctor, any psychologist named Sarah. He found a couple and noted them in the corner of last month’s Science and Technology magazine.
“Thomas… Dr. Thomas…” he remembered.
Reread the names he had scribbled but none matched. In frustration, he struck the names out, threw the pen on the table, and let himself fall back into the armchair. His stomach growling made him check the clock. At this time, he should already be at shopping. Better not to test his luck again with expired noodles.
The next morning, Nathan woke with better energy, as if he had found the solution the day before. He remembered that he knew the place where he had met Sarah. The one in the world is now in, or at least a place similar enough to give him the much‑needed glimpse of hope. He ate fast, drank coffee at the limit of burning his tongue, and ran to the car. He thought how good it would be not to stumble upon the Italian neighbor. Luckily, he reached his car without any issues.
He spent a few hours in the clinic’s lobby waiting room. He started staring at every doctor and nurse passing by, which made him look a bit like a stalker. It was bound to be noticed by the receptionists and security team, and soon he was escorted out. Initially he wanted to resist, but it was too disheartening to react in any way. Once outside he looked turned around as if he had lost his bearings when he noticed the hospital nearby.
“What if…” he thought, drawn toward the Emergency Entrance of the People’s Hospital. Even his hospital phobia was no longer an issue. His determination was stronger than anything he had ever felt.
He found an empty chair and took a seat, watchfully. The waiting room was filled with chatter, sobbing, and pain. The pain of the unknown leaned heavily on the family members waiting for news from the doctors. The smell of disinfectant blended with sweat, and maybe tears, makes the room resonate with a gloomy sadness.
A few more hours passed. This time, people were too busy with their own problems to notice him. He witnessed moments of joy, moments of despair, and what he considered to be the worst ones: moments of uncertainty.
“We believe the operation was successful, but…” the phrase that stretches suffering for an unknown period.
“Grandma, the doctor…” said the young boy, helping her to stand up.
“Doctor… Doctor Bannev, how is my husband?” the old lady asked with a trembling voice.
“The operation went very well. Your husband is a strong, brave man. He’s now in the ICU and should wake up in a couple of hours. A nurse will let you know when he’s awake. Please be patient a little longer. Everything will be OK,” she said with a soft smile.
Nathan felt that positive energy and couldn’t resist turning around. Then he saw her. Just for a second, before she disappeared behind the doors marked “Surgery Wing. Authorized Personnel Only.” He stood up and whispered, “Sarah… I found you.”
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