THIRD PART: OF METAMORPHOSIS AND DELIRIUM CHAPTER XXII: SHADE

Restlessness was in every face. The landscape cried in a watercolor. The ash trees were boiling, the tents were melting. The eyes of the little king, in his mother's arms, shed their first waters, following the bloody horizon compass. The sun seemed to tremble, the air was winking, and August spilled. But the cane of my frozen heart did not allow me to walk safely and perhaps I stumbled. Mistress Oakes, who was very close, came to hold me.

− "Don't fret for loneliness, Nike. It will be a good teacher."

− "How I will miss you. But for God’s sake, Mistress Oakes, tell me what you know. Shall I return?"

− "You are to walk into happiness, but you cannot see it yet. Because your path has so many twists that for awhile it will hide you the sidewalk. But it is firm. Trust me."

− "I trust you. But me?"

− "Believe in the woman you have called your grandmother. Come, let's walk together. Do you feel already more stable?"

 − "I feel more stable, and I won’t feel alone as long as I am with all of you. But now they are only minutes. As long as I remember you, I'll be accompanied. I am split in two. Because I like Nike, but I am also Nicholas. And I don't know if Nike has created himself alone, in your presence, or if from Nicholas has come Nike, or if the latter has given birth to the former. Or if I'm going crazy and nobody created them."

− "Nike... –Her hand grabbed me for a few moments so strongly of my arm that I couldn't help feeling somewhat restive with her startle. We were already close to the others and I do not know if they heard us− I told you that one day you would do it. You have just explained God-Cause to me."

    It is true that she had prophesied it to me, but I looked at her with disbelief.

− "Do you remember how I began the tale of the Universe?: God-Cause was alone and He was accompanied. He was one and He was two. He created Himself and both created each other, but nobody created them. Your last words are in harmony with the first thing I told you."

− "Certainly I see the parallel. But how do you go from my shocks to God-Cause? "

− "Let’s walk a little. I need to think. But by your side. Your mind clarifies me many things. Let’s see... –we went to her tent. I felt Anne-Marie’s hurry to go−. Perhaps I have made an unforgivable mistake to believe that the first of the gods did sprout creation from happiness. And I was forgetting that Horror is a creator. Yes, now I see it. To make creation He needed Wisdom and He came to it with Liberty and Horror, both assumed. That’s how He was one and He was two. And He was alone but accompanied by at least two substances that populated his spirit. The images of what it was supposed to be the future were already in His mind. I don't know yet how He begat, but happiness and Horror, already present in His thinking, gave birth one to the other, but nobody made them. But I still have much to think about. And I suppose you will not understand anything."

   But instead of answering her, I shook her with a new question.

− "And it was a man and it was a woman?"

− "Nike. It would not be prudent that we were speaking about certain things, but if one day you need to tell me, there I will be. You are a man, and here you have begun to know that you're a very worthy man. And I won't need to tell you that you also have some feelings like a woman."

− "Yes, Mistress Oakes. But I'm not God-Cause."

− "But you come from him. From him we all come. And from God-Fate. We are his children, intended to be beings-gods. The gifts of the universe are in us. And now, thanks to you, I'm beginning to see that they were already in our parents. Yes, in His image and likeness. The same harmony. Come on. Anne-Marie is in a hurry. Let's go with the others."

   Before I could reach her, who wanted to leave, Bruce came ahead:

− "I didn't know if you were going to stay longer, my friend. I had brought you more tobacco."

   Two more packages, the last supply of the “rich beggar", and I, who was rich, but not a beggar, tried to protest, but it was useless

-“When you smoke them, you'll remember me."

− "Hug me, Bruce –I said crying. You will notice in my sentences, Protch, that that day I was not coherent. I feared the resurrection of the worst of me but I said sentences like the following−. I will remember you also when I am not smoking. You don't stop making me presents."

− "Don't be silly −he replied with a wet face− I need not remember the presents we have received from you. And when you want to come, you know that I'll be here to give you my best smile. I promise you."

    Thus, weeping a lot, with mental balance embalmed, on the verge of going crazy of pain, Anne-Marie approached me.

− "Don’t you think that it is time to go, Nike?"

− "I guess so. When I came I could not imagine that it was going to be so hard to leave."

− "I have brought you clean clothes, Nike. Get close to the car."

  She had gone to Deanforest and Jack, who was in charge of my clothes, had left her search in my closet. She brought me a pristine combination of white linen trousers and a green cotton shirt, loose and fresh for that summer day. But my mind rebelled. I didn't want to flaunt of cleanliness next to their misery. It was a possibly futile rebellion.

− "Thank you for the great inconvenience you've taken, Anne-Marie. But, what’s the matter with the clothes I wear?"

− "If I didn’t know you, I could have taken you for one more of them. The fabulous charcoal grey of your jacket resembles a dirty brown as if you had slipped down a hill with it on. Come on, change your clothes."

− "Do not believe it is ingratitude. But I'm not going to do it. When I came here, I didn't know that I was coming and I could not choose my clothes. But I want to go as I came. I will not go into the skin of Nicholas."

− “Is the sun heating your head?  Forgive me, Nike, but it doesn’t look like you."

− "To look like some me I need first to know who I am. But if it is that the sun is heating my head, let the sunstrokes continue. As long as I rave, I won’t be completely corrupted –I looked at Anne-Marie, who was watching me as one who discovers an unknown animal and does not know how to catalogue it−. Anyway, thank you very much, but I will now change in Deanforest. And give me one second, please. I have to say goodbye to Lucy and Luke."

   They made up a frozen image which reminded me of some statue scented by candles on a lit altar's stained glass windows. The baby in his mother's arms. His father with his best smile watching the beautiful features of his continuation on Earth. They were already a family, surely sacred, but the infidel Nicholas did not come to pray to them.

− "Take him in your arms one more second, Nike –Lucy handed him to me tenderly−.  With those tears that you shed will stop his tears. He has soon learned the happiness of being in your arms. Look at him, so happy in his new cradle. He is not crying now. Thus, any way you go, shade shall cease with the light that you have."

− "Thanks, Lucy −my heart broke, but my eyes kept the promise not to cry.  Not in front of the little king−. But where am I going?"

− "You are going towards Beauty –Luke suddenly said−. Once you've caught its beams, light always bursts in fireworks. Remember that we love you. And don’t you ever be so hard with yourself, my friend. See you soon, my brother."

   To be a wildly falling cataract, the ungrateful friend only needed those words. And the hug we gave each other was already a desolate river, whose course was moving away from all the seas. My newfound water erred any friendly star which had shown me what course I should follow. Goodbye, little king. Goodbye, little kings of the crowned homeland of magic earth, breathtaking waters, lively air in the everlasting trees, fire in the stars which will also accompany you in cold days. Goodbye, my poor heart, where blood should continue circulating. I didn’t know then if my fingers were useful to do proper gestures of farewell. Anne-Marie’s car had a flavor of exile; the seat on which I sat smelled of funeral for the life that one returns to and is no longer desired. A second more...starter... seat belt. Oh, Outskirt of the Torn Hand.  To discover that I had a heart only to, when down the slope, have it amputated. A last view. Anne-Marie was speaking to me, but my ears were not with her. One second more the seven stayed with me. I don't know if it was the land which was crying or everyone was crying. The Plymouth was already in Millers' Lane. Still they had not gone and I already wanted to return. On my left The Last Road, where my sober heart had won; on my right, the last image of Mistress Oakes’ tent and the road to the Outcasts.

− "Goodbye Mistress.  A real pleasure has been to meet you. And even though I may rebel, my path has to be painful. You are always right."−I suppose I was speaking in a loud voice.

− "For heaven’s sake, Nike, what is it you say? I'm talking to you."

− "I am sorry, Anne-Marie. I was not aware that I was speaking in a loud voice. What were you saying?"

− "I was wondering how you are."

− "How do you find me?" −I felt reluctant to tell her about how I felt. I did not know then that pain can mute.

− "Physically I find you well, although I've seen before how you staggered. But psychologically I find you very strange. What with that and your appearance, you look like a beggar"

 −“Thank you –I said excited. In eleven days, I have never been called thus.”

− "Thank you?"

− "Forgive me, Anne-Marie.  My talk will seem strange to you. But right now I don't know who I am or where I'm going. I only know where I come from and I cannot forget them –I changed the subject-. It may be very simple, but I cannot assimilate you know them. And is seems that you have known them for years."

− "I had not told you anything, because you did not seem to have much interest in John. But now I can say that I already knew them in Wrathfall Bridge. Of course then they were only six. Then I also went to Knights Hill and I met Luke. And to the Torn Hand I have been coming since January, at least once a month. Yes, I know the seven, and for education I talk to everyone, but who I come to see is John. Wherever he is, I'll go to see him. In any circumstances we will be friends. If it wasn't for Miguel and his trashy sectarianism..."

   Alder Street and its foundations of icy civilization. And on the right... no, I didn't want to look at Baphomet. Its vision simply intoxicated me. My path now no longer wanted to be the one of eleven days ago. Drinking to forget. I wanted to forget. Did I want to forget? Wouldn't it be more certain that I would not drink as long as I remembered? As long as the pain failed to crush me against the ground? We had stopped at a traffic light. I had to make an effort to speak with Anne-Marie. The most painful part was coming.

− "Do you not like Miguel?"

− "I come to see John and only him. Now you know it. And I have to accept him with Miguel. I have nothing to object that they are a couple, even though I was in love with John. That time has passed. But they could be a normal couple and live a different life. And Miguel, with all his incomprehensible stream of philosophy, will never take him out of there. Sometimes I see him as a guru and everybody around dancing to the rhythm of his sect. They're well instructed and only John gets, barely, to be the same as always, but rather imbued with the same pseudomystic balm."

  A green light. To the right, to the endless Temple Road. But I was more attentive to the Heatherling than to the admonishments of Anne-Marie. "I follow your course, but the other way around. Instead of flowing into the beggars, I go back to an empty life of apparent prosperity. But neither you nor I are happy."

   But Miguel the spiritual leader of a sect? I could hardly imagine him like that. His serene face, his taciturn leaning on the shoulders of his partner between the fires of the night, his way to extract you the excess weeds. I regretted the years when I could have known of them by Anne-Marie and I had not even asked. I had not seen him as a leader of anything, except as a master of himself. Everyone knew perfectly how to walk alone without a shepherd who led them. And if I had to look for a point of required energy I would have thought of Lucy or of the sane madness of Mistress Oakes. But I could not forget that Anne-Marie knew them, and that disagreeing with her, I was still me, and remained with them. I wanted to know what she thought of the others. The time was approaching when I would have to tell her a truth that could hurt.

− "And what is your opinion about the other five?"

− "That church only needed the arrival of Luke. I don't know if you know how they met him."

-"Yeah, I know. Luke wanted to attack them all. He has told me. But he is already a new man."

− "That’s what he says. For me he is still a dangerous madman. And a slacker. Lucy needed to know him. Luke is a dangerous lunatic and Mistress Oakes lost her head years ago. She is a visionary. But in a way it is a pleasure to talk with her, the times she chooses to come to Earth. Madeleine, although no one says her name. Sometimes it is impossible to understand them, not even John. Out of respect, they say. But to me it seems disrespectful to talk with her and not to say her name. And Bruce is completely silly. But I can't blame him. His head is empty."

   It hurt me to hear her but somehow it made me good, to balance her vision with my vision, and to want to give them a big hug. In that short ride more than once I had the temptation to plead her to go back, but an inner voice prevented me to rebel. It didn't make sense to return that way. With only half of the consciousness I realized that she did not follow any chronological order. She was also reading me.

− "Of course I do not follow a chronological order. And I call her Madeleine. But I am not a beggar. And I have not come, I do not think that I ever reach, to my motif by Verôme. Have they named it to you?"

− "Yes, I know what you’re talking about. They have also named me the gifts of the Universe, and the codes, although they have not enunciated them to me, gods, stars... cats..."

− "What do cats have to do with all this? Nike, wake up."

− "Ted climbed into my lap. The night of the stars. You know what? They have given me two."

− "So John has also talked to you about the stars."

− "He gave us at least one to each of the eight and..."

− "The eight? You are frightening me this morning, Nike. Do not count yourself. They are seven".

− "Mistress Oakes thinks that I am the eighth. Excuse me, Anne-Marie. I do not call her by her name either –she was looking more at me than at the road and I was frightened−. But let's stop this. You didn’t mention Olivia and Lucy."

− "When I met them, I liked to chat with the mother and the daughter. I saw in both a lot of common sense. But Lucy I don’t understand since she got married, or whatever it is, with Luke. Instead of attracting him to her sanity, she has fallen into the inactivity of her husband. And don't tell me that they could not have sought a job before making the decision of having a child. A child in poverty. What madness!"

   Oh, little king, who has just dawned, rising in the east, next to your parents, your north. Madness? Has a crack the reason of your parents wanting to give life to their love, and grow? Is not your love all that your son will claim you? And your freedom, your beauty, your fellow mates, all that you have? Look without fear at the south that you will sail, fertile star arising out of the womb of Algieba with the seed of her Denebola, and don't be afraid of your universe. They will get your cosmos to be clean and passable. But I could not be with Regulus in our constellation. Only to remember him made me cry. To dry, I went back to ask:

− "What about Olivia?"

− "What’s the matter with you, Nike? Is it that you want me to make you a ranking? Do not answer me. Olivia is somewhat sadder, and that is common sense, with the life she is living. But whenever I go to see them, it is a pleasure to find her and talk."

− "Olivia then..."

− "After John, Olivia, yes, if with that you feel satisfied. Look forward, Nike. You have a good life that is waiting for you."

− "Thank you but I don't want to think about that life at the moment."

− "Not even in what you and me used to have? I'm still in love with you."

   The subject had appeared. We were bending to Castle Road. There was already little time. I sighed. But there was no way of avoiding it.

− "Anne-Marie... forgive me, I can hardly talk. But it is not possible anymore. I am sorry to hurt you. If I could, I would avoid it. Believe me. But these days... Don't look at me thus. Beware of the steering wheel. Wouldn't it be more sensible to park and have something somewhere? There I would explain it to you better."

− "What do you mean? −and with an expression of absolute coldness−. For heaven’s sake, speak".

− "These days... I've also fallen in love."   

   We had stopped at a traffic light. There was no swerving to the left. But she wanted to continue in the second gear and the car stalled.

− "You have fallen in love with someone there, you mean. With Lucy then?"

− "No, but it would have been just as inconvenient."

− "I can’t imagine you in love with Olivia. She is a lovely woman, but I can’t..."

− "It is not Olivia either"

− "Then it must have been Mistress Oakes. And that would be for me hard to accept."

− "... you still have the men."

    The swerving of that moment almost took us to the river. She realized that it was impossible to drive on like this.

− "I will stop, Nike. This I have to know and it is true that I am not in the best condition to drive. Do you remember The Wall Gardens? It was there where we became a couple. But how could you do this to me?"

− "Anne-Marie... −My voice found it impossible to speak: I didn't know what to say or how to say it. The car changed course and went into Churchway Boulevard. I remembered the night when we were first there, in the gardens, the dimly lit place, the beautiful sunset of almost already summer, my desire to be her partner although I could never tell her "I love you". At least I never lied to her. But Churchway was then, in my abruptly interrupted memories of those days, the ugly place where Luke had named me that was the lair of the bald people: a cellar in the house of Brian Philisey, who lived there. Just to the north of The Wall Gardens began Churchway Park. We had arrived. While she parked, I continued as I could−... I don't want to hurt you, but you can, if you prefer, send me to hell. It only comforts me that I never said "I love you". But I didn't know it. I swear that although I am 29 years old, and already I am old enough, I have just discovered it and for me it was also disconcerting."

− "It always happens to me the same" – she said resigned while we entered the bar, and instinctively went from it to the gardens where we had started a romance without sense. Learned people had supposed that there was one day the western wall of the castle, and the fortified landscape thus evoked it. Whether it was true or not, the color of the wall, and something that was supposed to be battlements, reminded it. It always happened to her the same. I understood it bitterly. She used to fall in love with men who did not love women. John first, me later. But he had always told her the truth. And it was possible that there was a time when she and I were in love with John at the same time. Poor three hearts without directions. But immediately I corrected: John’s heart did have a twin.

− "You’re a wonderful woman –I gulped−. And one day you will find a man who loves you."

   Just when we sat, the waiter arrived. She asked for her usual gin and tonic. I asked again for my usual black coffee. She looked troubled.

− "I don't know how long I will resist, Anne-Marie. But these days I only drank coffee. I am before a test, I know, because I have to face a very difficult time with you. A long-dreaded conversation. You can insult me, if you prefer."

− "Nike –she sighed deeply−, I will not send you to hell.  But you will understand that this is very difficult to assimilate. I fell in love with John blindly, although I already knew. But I could not expect it from you. Forgive the stupid question, but are you sure?"

-"Completely sure –I knew I was unworthy, because I was hurting her. But love is innocent−. I've had time to see also that I first fell in love with John" –finally I had told her half of the truth.

− "John then?"

− 'No, but you know that I have talked with him this morning. I have just told him."

− "He will not be very happy if it has been with Miguel. I don't know what you men can see in him."

− "John knows who I have fallen in love with. I would have told him nothing if it had been with Miguel. No, Miguel is a great man and is not the leader of any sect. He is calm, respectful and courageous. The ideal name to be written in John’s heart. And as now you only have Bruce and Luke, and I don't want to see you confused any longer and fearing that between the two you mention the wrong name, I tell you. It was with Luke, a dangerous madman in your own words."

− "What a surprise, Nike, I hope not to offend you, but with Luke?" −her incredulity was evident.

− "With Luke −I confirmed−.  But I expected to be the one offending. You are a great woman. Do you want me to tell you?"

   Close to the so-called walls there were ponds, and therein delicate water lilies whose flashes evoked what I would no longer have, Anne-Marie’s body. But the perfume that afternoon was the jasmine flowers. Soon their smell was a penetrating symphony that awoke me the sweet notes of our sunrise as a couple. But the picture was not complete: I had no alcohol on my lips and I was closing one of the skylights of my past. Oh you liar afternoon of August! Shines and aromas tightened me to yesterday, but some seditious darkness in the uninhabited tunnels of my mind wanted to remind me that shade is not darkness, that in my mind was still shining, rebellious and arrogant, a furtive yet visible light. I had gone through life hurting people. And I was still innocently lacerating with the candid beats of my heart resurrected. Forgive me, Anne-Marie, beautiful Valkyrie who never gave up. You will eventually find a horseman who accompanies you in radiant rides and can love you better than I could. I didn't know if it would be fair to tell her my wounds of love. But she had the right to know the truth.

   I spoke to her about the last July of my hopes, my 29 years swaying in Bruce’s tent to the beat of my most unexpected gift, Luke being moved at the name of his future branch, his departure from hate and violence in the shaken haze of the November of his redemption, Lucy in his altarpiece of filigree and their love bathed in gold, the outbreaks of my surreptitious heart crying out to open with renewed blood, the given vocatives: twins in the same despair, brothers  in lively feelings, friends in defeats and victories; Lucy cutting my hair and opening furrows for me, my intention to get away from their deep lake of mutual passion and purpose, and finally Regulus in the zenith...

− "And you can see how my rose opened. But my autumn will come soon. And not only was Luke who fertilized me with stories, trusts and promises. All of them were gardeners."

− "Nike. You will understand that now I want to be far from you a few days. I don't know whether to slap you or to give you a big hug. In a few days, don't expect my arrival at Deanforest, although we see each other every morning at work. But I advise you to return to your life."

− "And what is my life, Anne-Marie? To return to alcohol which made it impossible for me to also go to work with some sanity? Shall I come back, instead, to mislead a woman who, like you, has not deserved to meet Nicholas Siddeley? Meanwhile, and not to be that bastard again, I don't want to escape –I turned my face with dark nostalgia- from those days – a moan, an exclamation I cried−: they were bright, tacit fireflies in the long nights of sleeping sacred rites. They sleep with their windows open to the river, next to the door that leads to the balcony of the stellar ocean, while the seasons that are to come do not become for them icy currents. And I will not be with them to find out."

− "Very beautiful, Nike –she said I don’t know whether with irony or with the simplicity of her beautiful heart−. But if you've finished, we had better go. Perhaps in Deanforest you can try, how did you say it? To similarly sleep in the window of the river and see that your balcony also leads to the stellar ocean."

   We both left crestfallen, in a tense silence. We hardly talked on the short journey to Newchapel. "To change the Kilmourne, so neat and lively, for the Heatherling, agonizing and dull." I already saw Hammerstone Bridge and its chipped mummies of grey walls and rats. The heart of Anne-Marie Beaulière was not crying next to mine. Only sometimes I heard her murmur her shaken litany of "How have you been able to do this to me? And what shall I do now?" She was separating her pain and I was silent. And so, with various ailments, crying and bleeding, we finally reached Deanforest. The rhododendrons of the south wall I thought to be bars; the garden, so close to the river, the last supply of water and bread for the dying man; the ground when I stepped on the grass as if I was stepping on stones; the bell as a remote church bell tolling for the soul of Nike. Half a minute later, there was Victor Sheffield, his expression of scandalized bishop becoming the joy of a postcard to see me and receive me.

− "Welcome, Mr. Siddeley. Miss Beaulière already explained to us what had happened. How are you feeling? I see you greatly improved."

   He saw me greatly improved. It is that I had not remembered to dress up my heart with grief. Or that autocrat would not have eyes to perceive that I am transparent. He never allowed me to cry. Jupiter, at the back of the hall, had more sympathy with my misfortune. I realized with reluctance that again I would have to deal with my butler.

−Tell me, Protch.

−Victor Sheffield... I didn’t tell you days ago... a moron. A pompous and disheartening man.

−Maybe it is my pain which is not doing him justice.

-You did have a bad time with him, didn’t you?

−He never allowed me to leave Mr. Siddeley’s disguise for a few hours. All that time I felt alone, but surrounded by his majestic presence. But I don't know if he's to blame, Protch. He was indoctrinated to make my life comfortable and he could never understand that comfort was for me then to be alone and cry.

− What has become of him?

−I think he went to make life more comfortable to some lords of Fairfields, who must be complete with his peace. Sorry, Protch: I am not able to love him.

   Close to Jupiter, Anne-Marie said goodbye.

− "Here you are, Nike. Here he is alive and kicking, Victor –and she turned to me again−. Anyway I'll be back. I will try to not be very hard with you. But I promise nothing. I have a lot to think about. And for God’s sake, have a bath, change your clothes and have a shave.

   As if it had never belonged to me, at that point I didn't know how to move around the house. Introduction to the starry cosmos seemed to have taken my lap by chance and I was not at all aware that I held it strongly.

− "I go to the living room, Victor. The jewel I have in my hands is calling me with force."

− "As you wish, Sir. Do you want to have a whisky, as usual?”

   From the dead I had just buried he had not still been reached by the will-o'-the-wisps. It was I who rotted and I was already making the face of a corpse. I had to delay my cemetery funeral wind.

− "You can take me a coffee to the living room instead, if it is not too much trouble".

− "Coffee did you say, Sir?"

− "Coffee." –I repeated emphatically. And I left him chewing his astonishment.

   I sat on this very sofa where I am now. At that time I had not seen yet the skeleton of the bottles in the ornate wooden sideboard. In the first second that I was alone, I couldn't cry yet. I opened the book with expectation. I knew that stars would remind me of John, and a little of all of them. But I made the mistake of wanting to read it like a novel and start at the beginning. And the beginning was a litany of interesting things, I suppose, but not for me. There were more than ten pages dedicated to teaching you the pleasure of watching the cosmos with a telescope. I remembered Mr. Woodward and wondered if he used to have the same hobby when he built the tower room. For a second I thought that if I did not return, I could afford to buy a telescope that would give sense to the room. I figured myself in new moon nights watching more than the silhouette of Antares, in summer; or Aldebaran in winter. But to think of seeing stars without them made me think of temptation. And I learned that from it is born its double face, betrayal; and I felt treacherous thinking soon about a pleasure alone where they did not take part. I turned pages quickly. Instinctively I knew what I wanted to find: summer constellations. Yes, there was Scorpio. Mistress Oakes accompanied me from a distance. She would not have wanted me to be completely abandoned. I had no strength to look up Leo at that time. I started to cry some sudden tears that were soon a flood. That black sea was soon interrupted by Victor.

− "Your coffee, Sir".

− "There, leave it on the table".

− "I suppose that Sir wants to have a bath. Do you want me to prepare the bath to you?"

   With his questions he stated clearly what I should do next. And I imagine that I then reminded him of a madman. Many things unfit in Mr. Siddeley all at once: I was dirty, crying and reading a book. A mystery beyond his powers of reason. And it looks that I committed a heresy with the following words:

− "I will immediately go up to have a shower.  Do not prepare me anything: I myself will do it −and taking courage−: first I need to read and weep a little while having my coffee."

   He walked away trying to decipher the oracle. Meanwhile, I was looking up Leo. But I couldn't find it yet. At the moment there entered Karen and Beth.

− "We wanted to know how you are," said the former.

− "Great –I answered, but my tears contradicted me−.  I have been very well taken care of −and then I made the first effort−. You know that I've been these days with a few beggars?"

− "I hope they have not stolen you?" –It was Beth’s stupid comment.

   I knew that I had to leave it there.

-"Only my heart” −I dared to answer.

   I guess it was enough. They walked away bewildered. The rumor must be spreading that Mr. Siddeley was not in his right mind. I could not have that coffee in peace. At the moment came Doris and Jack. Agnes and the gardener were the only ones who had not yet come. What to tell you? The conversation was repeated.

   But the afternoon was passing. Over coffee, I went back to take a look at the book. Only the part of the telescopes. I didn't want to cry again. My heart would have broken with a few more tears. So the evening was shortening and I didn’t realize. At first I needed something that did not remind me of them. That afternoon I learned concepts so far unknown like tripods or eyepieces, and something that is still incomprehensible: astronomical declination and right ascension. I was learning to be with myself. Regulus was not the only baby who was born that day. I also cried lacking for food but did not have beside a mother who breastfed me. In a new cry found me Agnes. She came to pick up the cup. She faltered. She wanted to tell me something. And finally she took courage. It seemed that in the kitchen everybody had gathered and talked about Mr. Siddeley’s derangement.

− "Is it true that Sir has been some days taken care of by some beggars?"

− "It is true, Agnes". –I answered and didn’t add anything else. I didn’t think I could face a new misunderstanding.

− "I am sure they were excellent people".

   I wasn't expecting that. I looked at her with respect. Small and graceful, and I soon discovered that also talkative and good-natured. But I wanted to change the verbal tense.

− "They are excellent people. They have saved my life. They have fed me and have given me something of all the good things that they have. Would you like me to talk about them?"

− "I'm busy, Sir.  But if at any time you wish..."

  She was very busy. I could not blame her. Ow, if only I could spend the afternoon talking about them with someone. But what if I turned and approached them walking towards their outskirt? I was sure that I was already able to walk that distance. But Agnes looked at me seeing that my sanity was going away at times. I asked a different question:

− "Tell me the truth, Agnes, how do you call me?"

− "How do we call you, Sir?"

− "In addition to Sir, of course. Am I something different to Mr. Siddeley? Some days I think I have heard you call me Mr. Nicholas. Is it true?"

− "It is true, Sir. I hope that you are not offended."

   But I answered with another question:

− "And Nike? You know that I have always been called thus, for years, also by some servants. Do you remember the Protch couple?"

− "Yes, Sir. Herbert and Maude, if I remember correctly. Sometimes it is remembered in the kitchen that you were called thus. A strange name, Sir."

  But I didn't want to explain the origin of my other name, which not even myself knew for certain.

− "Could you at least call me Nike?"

− "As you wish, Mr. Nike".

   A new name, never before and never later used. Thus only for Agnes I was Mr. Nike. Strange christening. But I had to start somewhere. I didn't want to be, but I realized that that day, who knows if for many days, I was Mister and I was Nike. I wanted to say something more, but then two things happened. Victor came to ask me what I wanted for dinner. I was going to answer him when I saw the mocking grin that made me the many bottles filled with alcohol of the sideboard, which I saw for the first time. How had I been able to forget them? Agnes withdrew. Victor insisted.

-"The first thing you find” −I answered uncertain and heretic. And as he saw that I did not give him an adequate response to his thinking, he suggested:

− "Some rice, Sir? Karen would be happy to prepare it on your return home."

   Return home. But I felt that I had been expelled of my house that morning. I didn't want dinner to be a problem and nodded. I was surprised that the time for dinner had already approached. And rather the fact that "Mr. Nike" had not eaten anything yet and his stomach did not rebel. I was surprised. But Victor continued torturing me.

− "Would Sir like having a bath before dinner?"

   I had to compromise. But the frightful face of ruin looking at me from the sideboard suggested me to make a deal.

− "Victor. I suggest we made an agreement. I will behave as Mr. Siddeley; I will have a bath and will have dinner if you promise something in return."

− "Of course, Sir."

− "Now I have the intention to give up drinking −I bothered to explain, but I was not showing myself very sure−. You can do one of these two things, but I would like not to find a single drop of alcohol in the house once I come out of the shower. I don't know if you servants like what there is in those bottles opposite. You can distribute them. And if you don’t, throw them into a container."

− "Are you sure, Sir?"

− "I didn't want to, but you force me to say it –I sighed−. It is an order, Victor."

   I didn’t see him satisfied enough. The bishop was not considering me an optimal candidate to help him consecrate. But in the end he left, with firm and resigned steps of a cardinal who is not willing to tolerate a sacrilege one more second. It was my chance to be alone. I went to the bathroom on the first floor.

   Something was wrong. I always found myself when I was in the water, but what happened to me? While with the drops on my skin I was losing the last thing I had: the dirt of their outskirt, not knowing yet that my mind continued to treasure that blessed mud, new water, that of my new eyes which were still good to carry out their function of crying, spilled merciless giving me a wash of bitterness. I wondered whether Bruce would have dared this afternoon to swim without me, if he would do it in the future. I was tempted to stop the stream for a few seconds but crying I discovered again what had always been in me and that could bathe me hereinafter without saying goodbye to any needed dirt: water, cats, stars, the intimate need to have a child. And there I no longer could bear the pain. I was wondering if Paul would not also be crying in that hour, the two of us to the rhythm of our needs, he without me, I without him, an endless dance of tears and blood. "But you have them by your side, you little king, why are you crying?" And I, half an hour later, dressed while crying, exiled from them all, the first tears of a time when they were creating a lake. But tears were also water and I always found myself when I was in the water. But rather than find me, I needed not to get lost. Black shade that startles me, where shall I find a flashlight?

   The castaway Nike couldn’t find a buoy in the merciless face of Victor, who found me down the stairs and told me I don't know what about the containers next to Hammerstone Bridge. He should not have done so. Once I entered again the living room I could not stand the empty skull of the sideboard, naked already of toxic temptations. It was the worst moment. Not to see them again was worse than seeing them before. I sat restless, but all my oceans pleaded for waves of oblivion. I don't know how long I could resist. I went through the central hall just when Karen announced me that dinner was ready. And I, in my mad passion, got to chat with your statue. "Forgive me, Jupiter, I cannot do anything else."

   The Heatherling air reminded me that it was still summer. They would be at their bonfire and I went out in search of other fires. Some stars were already shining. But my mind was rejoiced with them and so I survived. That long August 6 had begun with a miracle and had to end with a hallucination. He wasn't there but I swear I saw him: John in his dignity and his rags had already come to rescue me.

− "How are you, Nike?" –I perceived clearly that John’s ghost was talking to me.

   And in the same delusion, I answered. I told him that he had found me ready to go back to drinking, and not wanting to remember it I asked him what he was doing there at that time. And without Miguel.

− "Today he’s been feverish again –It was so real that for many days I blamed myself for not having gone to see how he was− and I have gone out alone.  I've been to Avalon Road. I don't know why, but I wanted to see the Argonauts in the stained glass windows of the Thuban. And as I was very close, I have come to see how you were."

− "How are the others?"

   But he did not answer immediately. He raised his neck as one who knows that now is the time to look up.

− "Watch it, Nike.  There you have Scorpio."

   Over Castle Road I could distinguish its head with its triple crown and Antares putting a red bow on its arachnid body. The tail was hiding. Understand me, Protch: soon I checked with bitterness that Castle Road lights prevented me from seeing any sketch of any constellation. But in that delirium I sensed it. I was trying to distinguish some Sagittarius beside it, although I still did not know it, when I remembered that John had not answered and I insisted.

− "Everyone is perfectly –he calmed me down−. And Paul, before you ask about him, has spent a very healthy first day but has not stopped crying."

   Antares in its blue box, and Regulus in his sea of tears, had saved me. But I could not neglect the anchor that had just thrown me Pollux, the Argonaut. The stars were losing their solidity and John, near the Hammerstone, was becoming transparent and was fading next to the water. At that time I saw that it was beginning to rain and no Scorpio could be guessed. I saw the bottles. Something of their neck I could perceive in the stinking face of the container, but although I had learned they sometimes looked for food in the trash, I did not know if they also searched for something to drink, and I watched them with contempt. I preferred to look at the puddles that made the rain in the garden before falling into the river. Water from my beginning and my end... liquid jewel that does not make you drunk. A pond in the sky, puddles on the floor, a dark river on my right, remains of the shower in my skin: it was all water. But for that day there were no more tears. If I could turn my heart into water, I would be saved, if first I taught it to sail. But the seven were still with me. In a last look at the bridge I thought that John was still there, and worried I looked there.

− "Thanks for everything, John. And don't worry too much. Now –and with an unknown strength, leaving finally the containers and returning home−: I know what I must do."