Totentanz(Part 1)

1. Of Stalker And Wall


I felt revitalized. The rigorous mind of mine which I possessed now was something I had lost in the city. As I strolled down one back alley with silence engulfed me, the mere presence of me filled the place told me this place was not a vacuum. Though there was no pressure, I could sense was light breeze and rhythmic percussion from somewhere else. I heard that, quite vividly and miraculously, I could even tell what that was, despite of its softness and vagueness. It was Totentanz, a masterpiece of Listz, which I played few years before in a competition, I could still recall every twist, every staccato, every chord, with clarity which itself astonished me.


Walking down a back alley was once a hazardous venture. You had to beware of the watchful eyes which followed you everywhere stealthily. Sometime, the existence of a half-opened window was sufficient to unnerve me. But not now. I felt assured by something I never knew in my life. As I walked down the alley, my heart was beating more erratically, not because of a half-opened window, not because of a potential harmful silhouette, it’s the existence of my own self sooth my choppy sea of mind. I couldn’t recall walking down any other alley could bring me such exuberance.


Being directionless, I didn’t feel lost. On the contrary, I glanced around, suddenly, I was astounded. For a moment, I thought when I turned, I could see the same street I walked down. What I found was a wall, just a tall and seemingly impregnable fortress. The wall looked new as if it was newly built. But deep down inside me, I knew a wall just couldn’t suddenly appear like an apparition. I touched the wall. It’s cold and as I waited for the epiphany which I surmised would strike me didn’t happen as I wished.


Chagrined and mystified, I continued my journey. This alley was longer than it seemed as I slowly dragged my feet inch by inch. Still, there was no sign of life. This place was deserted, I concluded. I strained my eyes, trying to locate any sign of life. To no avail, I placed my blame on the mystery that engulfed me like a big mist. Where was I and where should I head to? And how could I focus when I discovered a wall was stalking me like an assassin. Every time I turned back, it’s there standing abruptly and melodramatically in front of me.


Strangely, I was calm, although being followed quite inexplicably by a wall. Silence like a layer of snow, forcefully buried every over-heated particle. I wished I could think but the stalker, which is the name I decided to give to that wall, kept me vigilant like a porcupine. Having no choice, I had to calculate my every step quite carefully. I was afraid one I slipped, the wall my trampled on me or left me behind. I would rather have a wall following me than following a wall. I was not a stalker and neither did I aspire to be one.


I was just a wanderer, looking for something to commemorate my existence.



2. As I Lay Dying


Slowly, he opened his eyes. Every ray of light felt like a needle, pricking and piercing his delicate cornea. Again, his eyelids collapsed and instantly, immediately, there’s no light. He was already accustomed to the day without light and he indeed enjoyed the companion of the total darkness.


When he slumped back to the shapeless wilderness, he could hear laughter. At first, it was faint and then it gained its momentum. With each laughter died off, another laughter with greater amplitude replaced it. He was perplexed by the stentorian laughter. Knowing it’s neither a dream nor a fantasy, he was somehow relieved but he was no fool. How could he hear laughter when there’s nobody beside him? By the way, did he even know where’s him? So, who gave him the impression that he’s alone?


Lastly, the screeching laughter died off. Soon after that, he was overcome with a strong urge to fell. Of course he was protesting, there’s no way he could fell. Suddenly, gravity was nowhere. The sudden loss of weight floated him and he was panicked. He wanted to screamed and as he opened his mouth, heavy air sipped into his lungs and choked him. As if didn’t recognize the foreign particle, his body reacted violently.


Instinctively, he opened his eyes. For a while, he though his eyes didn’t recognize the light because all he saw was fuzzy shadow. Beside that, nothingness prevailed. Feeling trapped, he once again hesitated. To expose himself to a know danger or to explore an unknown reign? He chose the later and that’s how he met his future wife. A young and vigorous-looking nurse stood in front of him, busily recording details. Without shifting his head to other side, he knew there’s a doctor there and besides that, he also knew he had no visitors, even when he was lying on the dead bed.


Nauseated by the sudden influx of bright light, he sensed his head was giving way to the haunting laughter once again. While his eyelids sank once again, he swore he could hear laughter once again.



3. To Whom The Bell Toll


He fixed his gaze to the young nurse. Not very pretty but he had to admit she was charming. Now, laying motionlessly and dying inaudibly, a strange vision occurred to him. He was not sure whether to call it a ‘vision’ or an ‘apparition’. But he was not given time to muse before he saw he held the nurse’s hand and begged her. No, he was not begging and he saw himself doing something but definitely not begging shamelessly. Flummoxed by what he witnessed, he could even feel his palms were sweating. Nevertheless, a new vision temporarily shifted his attention again. It was a scene where he was holding an infant, way too small to call it baby. It was so tiny and delicate. Happiness quickly superseded the somber feeling and he indeed felt lifted.


The happiness swiftly drained away and it’s subsequently substituted by an unbearable heaviness. From far, he could hear the bell tolling as people scurrying into a small church with somber look on their face. He wanted to move forward so badly to see what really happened as his curiosity was stirred by the tolling bell. That’s when he discovered he could actually move. But this was not an ordinary sense of moving, to put it more realistically, he was hovering on the ground.


Nobody seemed to notice his bizarre propagation. It seemed he neither left any trail or stirred any disturbance to the still air around him. As he approached closely to the church, he ‘saw’ people talking. He could tell people were discussing about something but he couldn’t hear anything. But this time, he remained quite unperturbed. “I have had enough queer things,” shouted him to a couple walking up the steps to the church as if to seek for sympathy.


No response. Frustrated, he purposely stomped up the steps, hoping it could at least reminded myself of my invisible existence. The moment he walked into the small church, the choir was already starting without me. After getting used to interior illumination of the church, he started scanning every inch of the church. There’s no statue, there’s no bible and there’s no pastor. The only thing stood in solitude in the middle of the church was a coffin.


Mischievously, he dashed to the coffin, without knowing what he was actually up to. Then he was stoned. It’s the nurse. Suddenly, he recovered his hearing. As if having an orchestra in his ears, he kneeled and shook his head incessantly. Now, lying on the floor, he felt extremely exhausted. His ears was long accustomed to the incomprehensible orchestral. What he didn’t know was why the nurse was lying in the coffin.


He was in dire to know. But before he sorted out anything, he found out somebody was holding his right hand.



4. Midnight’s Children


The street was no longer dimly-lit. Now, it was flooded with tender light. There’s nothing that could escape from my eyes. With the little assistance of the light, I finally could make up what where was I. Strictly speaking, I was not in an alley. But in fact, I was trapped in a labyrinth-like alley. I scanned my sides, there were exits everywhere, each of them led to an equally deserted plaza. According to my calculation out of boredom, I estimated there’s an exit every 50 meters. If this alley was 1km long, there was going to have 20 plazas! The mere imagination of 20 eerily deserted plazas was enough to enervate me.


Just when I was distracted by the plazas, the shadow casted by the irritating ‘stalker’ in front of me brought me back to the reality. Like a nagging grandmother, it just couldn’t give me a break. I clenched my fists but after realizing how naïve the idea of fisting a wall was, I decided to look more clearly how did my stalker look like.


To my utter disappointment, the wall was simply nothing. No graffiti, no chewing gum, no flaw. But I had to admit that amidst my disappointment, I was quite mesmerized by the meticulously built wall. My stalker seemed having no flaws at all, not even one. It was just a combination of thousands of carefully crafted bricks. Of course, there’s no indication or whatsoever about where the bricks came from.


“Hei!”


A childish voice coming from a plaza at my left side made me jump. At first, I thought I was fantasizing this but the voice was unmistakably calling me. I was first shocked and then grew weary. My situation could be well described as a set up. But it was a ludicrous idea. I turned to the origin of that voice.


A boy was standing at the middle of the plaza. He looked like a dot from my point of view and so I estimated he was well 200 meters away from me. The reflection of the bright light on his face almost prevented me from identifying him. I managed nonetheless, not without staring at him forcefully for more than 10 seconds.


“Would you come here?” He inquired in polite manner, which is a twist I never expected. I never thought he would speak to me except saying hi. I had also no idea why he gave me this impression. I just keen to portrait him as a mute, lonely and hapless. But he seemed more cheerful than I expected.


“How long have you been here?” Before I had responded, he asked, “Am I the first one you have seen?” I had no idea what was “the first” he referred to. The first human? The first light? The first boy?


I didn’t reply. The plaza was huge but it was empty. All I could see was the boy standing in the middle of this plaza. Perhaps the reflection of the light from the marble tile amplified the emptiness of this plaza, I was deeply indulged in the affectionate and pleasant air of this plaza. The air here was fresher but the trace of staleness was hard to be ignored. Temporarily oblivious of the presence of the boy, I continued inspecting the whole building without any reason. Perhaps, I was intimidated by the grandeur of this plaza.


“I guess you are never much a speaker, are you?” He winked at me.


He was ordinary. Too ordinary in the sense of normal people, though how normal they are, at least they would have one extraordinary. This was the miracle of DNA. But the boy standing in front of me defied all the beauty of random selection. Nothing from him suggested he was indeed different with other people. His attire was something could be seen on the road everyday. Although I had never met him before, I decided to call him Mr. Average because he was too ‘average’ in everything.


“Do you tell stories?” Mr.Average’s abrupt question had me taken aback. Stories? All of a sudden, I thought of the ‘stalker’ once again and I checked my back, no sign of the ‘stalker’ anymore. But it seemed uncanny things never ceased to happen.



To be continued...