in memoriam of Nikolay Vatov

Alone and oblivious, I was walking on a street amidst a crowd of people; the day was gray and gloomy – or was it an evening, since the twilight of the clouds had drowned the sun and the icy wind was whipping my face – and there was a city. I didn’t know what it was, I didn’t remember where it was – as if I was back from beyond, left to roam aimlessly…

The motley crowd of people on the street was buzzing – I could see people loaded with packages, I saw smiling faces and people clad as elves wearing hats with bells on, and white-bearded old men in sleighs, giving candy to children from their bottomless pockets, there were princesses, and fire-eaters; voices and whistles echoed all around. It was as if I ended up in the epicentre of a carnival. Shiny glamorous shop windows adorned both sides of the street, basking in neon lights with words in a strange language and cluttered with flags, tinsel and tree branches. No one seemed to take notice of me; only a street dog approached to take a sniff and then rushed forward, barking happily, affected by the general merriment.

I was alone, an alien… I kept walking while the crowd flowed around me like a river. I didn’t recognize a single face, I didn’t even remember who I was. My mind was completely devoid of thoughts, except one… I knew this was my last night. Something was bound to happen…

Then I am obsessed by another thought, slowly becoming a certainty. I’ve already seen this, this street and this city, as if I’ve been here before – like a half-forgotten dream coming into life before my eyes. I remember other places and other dreams, also shrouded in oblivion, faded and distant – just silhouettes in the dark.

I was alone and immortal, dreaming of myself…

The wind blows an entangled newspaper at my feet. I lift it up and slowly unfold it. The pages are full of letters in the same foreign language. It’s neither Latin, nor Greek, more like a mixture of the two. My eyes catch a headline and a moment later the meaning sinks in: “The world bids farewell to the 20th century at midnight.” Today is Friday, the 31st of December and the year… I am shocked and terrified, lost for words. Have I slept through millennia?!...

I drop the newspaper and it flies into the leaden skies with a splash as I keep limping forward. The street gives way to a broad square, full of people. There’s a fir tree towering in the centre, decorated with sparkling garlands, stars, painted silver balls and what not; dazzling multicoloured beams cross the sky above the crowded square, following the rhythm of the loud music in the background. The air echoes with shouts and laughter; I could see people dancing as one – a stormy human ocean. There’s a screen on the wall of a building nearby which displays some changing digits. I figure out this is a clock – I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a few minutes past six.  I stare at the surrounding faces and shapes in wonderment. What am I doing here, I ask myself but to no avail. The answer is buried deep inside me.

Then I notice the hill. It’s right across. Houses made of stone and wood, with plastered dilapidated walls, are perching on the slopes. The hill attracts my attention like a magnet.  But it’s not because of the giant illuminated sign saying “2000” on the top, I’m not sure why myself. I only know that I have to go there and meet the unknown…

A procession is trailing opposite me. People dressed in black, with grave gloomy faces, carrying large banners. I read “Judgement day is coming! Jesus is among us!” and freeze in disbelief – it’s my name written on the banner. Jesus… of Nazareth… Crystal clear, the memory rushes in and I shiver. I remember. Myself. In another reality or a dream – bent under the weight of the cross I am dragging under the sizzling sun of Judea, chased by the whips of the soldiers and the cries of the mob. I remember the insults, the pain. And I remember dying… then I realize something. I am back. I don’t know how – the universe is ruled by laws that even I don’t comprehend. But I know why. I’ve come back not to judge or save them, but for myself… because I long to wake up. I don’t want to dream about their wars anymore, their remorse and deaths, their petty human aspiration – so petty they sent shivers down my back, their selfish ambitions… I am overwhelmed by the world’s suffering. If they only knew, if they suspected even for a moment that someone was dreaming about them…

A man in the front rows of the procession is staring at me. He’s frozen still, his pupils dilated with terror. When our eyes meet, he whispers something fervently, pointing me to the others, and tears run down his cheeks. He has recognized me.

The pilgrims surround me. They look like black vultures, falling on their knees on the cold pavement and kissing my feet and sandals, pulling my linen robe; I hear them whisper my name and mumble some incoherent words, begging for forgiveness. I can’t take it anymore. I escape the rings of people and almost run away, hands pressed tight to my ears because their laments – or their curses – haunt me ceaselessly until they are finally muffled in the hustle and bustle, and I find myself standing at the foot of the hill.

I stop for a moment to take a breath. My body shivers but I manage to collect myself. I hear the ringing of a clock tower somewhere in the distance. I count seven strokes.

The twilight of the evening gets thicker and the wind has quieted down. The sky is low, pale and heavy as if ready to collapse. I head for the street leading uphill. The modern city with its skyscrapers and crowds withdraws to the lowlands and disappears. The place is quiet and deserted. I am surrounded by remnants of the past, etched in stone. The sound of my footsteps echoes in the walls, overgrown with ivy, to remind me that I am dreaming. A hurricane rages in my mind. I am violently overwhelmed by memories and again see myself, climbing the Golgotha hill once more, and I am alone again – so alone I could howl in desperation…

All of a sudden, snow starts falling – heavy, white, and enchanting. The snowflakes are so big,  they shroud the world in spooky whiteness. I reach out my hand and shiver at their icy tickle, falling silently in my palm. Strange as it may sound, but this is the first time I touch snow. Back there… a long time ago… it never snowed… Now it’s different, although still present in my dreams… I shake off the languor and head on to the place where she’s waiting for me – I could clearly sense her presence. She – the only one who could save me….

I was alone, I was immortal and I was God, walking on the snow-covered pavement, carrying the world on my shoulders, and my soul was wailing under the burden of memories and billion lives dreamed  - reality pieces, and I wanted everything to be over… The snow kept falling – sparkling white silence with gleaming radiance of colours. I scarcely met any people. I saw lovers, walking in solitude, holding hands – I envied and hated them… I longed to be one of them. Unsuspecting…

I pass by a basilica, then ruins of a fortress wall, and then swerve in a steep alley, nestled among high ancient houses, half made of stone. Time had passed them by seamlessly. I also pass by – deaf and dumb, when I notice her. I make out her tiny silhouette standing at the end of the alley on top of the hill – frozen like a statue. White with snow. I draw near and quietly stand behind her. She doesn’t even turn around, immersed in her thoughts; she just touches me mentally and leans her head on my shoulder.

We stay in silence under the falling snow. On the edge of the abyss, in whose bottom the city spreads – bustling, suffused with light and neon. Celebrating the end…

            “You came back,” suddenly she turns to me with her lovely, throaty voice. “Something told me I’d see you.”

            “I came back…” a lump is stuck in my throat and I can’t speak. But she knew, of course she knew why I was here… I lift my hand and run my fingers along her face – like a blind man who had found at last something dear long lost. It was her. The same large sparkling eyes with long eye lashes, the same black curls under the hood of the cloak she’s wearing, the same smooth skin and white teeth – just as I remembered her. As if those millennia had never passed. A faint smile on her lips. She… the only real thing for  me in this world.

            “You can call me Delia,” she utters.

Delia… a name of a flower. Once I knew her as Magdalene – in another life or dream, in another time; I remembered her under many other names, but her true name was only one: Death.

I keep staring, unable to take my eyes off her or to stop. She is so beautiful, yet I’ve never told her that… As if reading my mind, her fingers intertwine with mine and she kisses them. We stay like that for a moment, pressing our faces together, and then, guided by some cosmic impulse, we embrace and seal our breaths. And the world seizes to exist…While we fervently seek each other’s lips – alone like Adam and Eve, tasting sin for the first time. We were those Adam and Eve, banished from the Garden of Eden, lost in darkness. She was a wonderer among shadows, and I – a dreamer…

            “Let’s go,” she urges me and takes me to a house nearby; purple gleams flicker behind its windows.

The gate creaks when we enter. There’s a yard covered in hewn slabs. A vine. Wooden steps trodden by numerous feet. We climb them. A door. We cross the threshold and the night stays outside.

The room is warm and cosy. There’s an open fire crackling in the fireplace. Drawings hang on the walls – drawings of places I remember too vaguely. They are all hers: a bird’s eye view of the Grand Canyon, the Dead sea with the trail we used to walk, a huge spotted cat stretched on a rock, the south coast… and a child. There’s hardly any furniture.  Delia takes off the cloak and shakes her wet hair, then lights up the three thick candles on the table, fetches a bottle of wine and we sit on the large bearskin in front of the fire.

            “It’s New Year’s Eve,” she says as she passes me the full glass.

The wine is slightly tart and fragrant and infuses liquid fire in my veins. I’d long forgotten its taste. And that dazzling feeling of freedom…

I am sipping slowly, hypnotized by the flickering red sparkles and calmed by her proximity – and I can’t remember why I am here. Everything before that moment has lost its meaning. It’s strange but I didn’t even feel frightened…

            “Where are we”, I ask. “How long have you been here?”

            “We’re up north… the Balkans… Does it matter?” she answers and shrugs. “I don’t remember. Maybe for years… I’ve been to thousands of places but I never stay for long.”

            “How long has it been? Since then…”

            “Two thousand years,” she says impassively.

We sit like that, immersed in the silence of the room, with only the fire crackling in the background. We are sipping quietly. And  we are simply human…

            “I was planning to take them away tonight,” she said, staring at the flames.

            “Where to?” I ask as if I have no idea.

            “There”, she gestures at the horizon, “You know better.”

            “Do you really have to?”

            “I do,” her answer sounds like a verdict. “Do you remember the prophecy? The words you spoke on the cross? A giant wave shall rise from the bottom of the sea and sweep away the cities on its way; devastating earthquakes will shatter the land; volcanoes shall pour fire from the skies… The wrath of God will smite them mortals to punish them. You said it, you’re the one dreaming.”

            “That was a long time ago…”

            “You lied to them, didn’t you?” she stares at me with her black eyes reflecting the flickers of the fire. “There’s no such thing as eternal life, there’s no Heaven or Hell, no salvation… Tell me, what lies beyond?”

            “Nothing,” I hear myself say with a strange, unfamiliar voice, “Nothing but darkness... And solitude,” I add with difficulty. “I am tired. I need you to set me free.”

            “I promise. I’ll fulfil the prophecy!”

            “You don’t understand,” I take a deep breath, “I need you to take me…”

She stares at my face for a long minute as if she sees it for the first time, then suddenly grabs my hand. The candles have burned down. The dim light and the silence embrace us in a silk cocoon. We sit there, listening to our own thoughts – two loners in the heart of the city, celebrating its doom.

            “I don’t want to lose you!’ she whispers fearfully, “What.. would happen… to them?”

I shrug my shoulders. It makes no difference to me. Even if they disappear from the face of the earth, even if they stay behind…

            “I can’t,” Delia groans and desperately clutches my hand. “Don’t leave me alone, please… I love you!”

Something inside me breaks. I embrace her. I seek her lips. She shivers in my arms, warm and fragrant, and so helpless…

            “I love you,” I confess, throwing away the mask, and kiss her eyes, her cheeks, her breasts, ever so hungrily – I am besotted by the closeness and warmth of her body. I should have told her ages ago… “Promise me you’ll do it,” I say with one last effort of will.

            “I will,” she utters in somewhat drowsed state, and then desire throws us in an endless ocean and I remember nothing anymore …

Our bodies quiver, entangled and oblivious – I could feel the power of creation running through us. I enter her deeper and deeper. I drown in her eyes, her breath burns my face. Time loses its grip and I finally realize the meaning of that word so alien to me: love. Delia whispers something, her arms wrapped around my back, maybe a spell of some sort – her eyes closed and her head tossed back. Delia’s hair is cascading to the floor and only the white edges of her teeth glisten in the dim light. The magic she radiates spreads to my very soul and opens it to the world. I love her… Somewhere in the distance, in another reality, the clock tower strikes twelve. With the last stroke I erupt – a thousand suns rise outside, the world explodes in colourful illuminated fireworks and salutes, cries of joy and bells ringing; I could see the happy people kissing one another, eager to meet their new hopes and dreams, their long lost loves – and my heart stops beating. I collapse on top of her and her shriek fades away wearily, sensing my mind and strength leaving me…

We lay exhausted side by side in the night’s womb, communicating with thoughts. The smouldering embers cast reddish glow on the walls. Delia strokes my chest with her fingers and a flock of her hair tickles me. Her eyes sparkle in the darkness, focused in faraway places that I cannot see. Such beautiful human eyes… A new day is dawning outside the windows. It’s quiet – the city sleeps in the foothills, exhausted after the turbulent night of celebration. The snowing has stopped, having covered everything in thick white blanket.

            “I love you,” I hear her voice. I press her tight and respond. I feel so light and happy – as if a huge burden had fallen off my shoulders… The day bursts in the room – a brand new morning, white and clean. The sunrays pierce the blanket of clouds and sneak through the frosted window. They touch us and we shiver…

We were lying naked, holding each other, warmed by the pale rays of the winter sun, oblivious to the world outside. It was just the two of us – maybe the only two people awake in the sleeping city, our bodies and souls merged into one. And I was mortal.

 

 

translated by Iva Doncheva