It’s good to lie here full and thoughtful, like Indiana Jones at the end of the movie. Forgetting your troubles and misfortunes, mulling things over at your leisure: «What’s next? What adventure’s coming in the sequel?»
I remembered the voice that had brought me here. This is the place of my suffering? Ha-ha-ha! I’d gladly suffer on this sofa for years, as long as the fruit never ran out, the tub kept foaming, and the girl smiled once in a while. If there’s another surprise waiting in the wings, I don’t mind. Bring it on!
I’ll deal with it as it comes, like they used to say at work. I’ve earned this, paid my dues.
Suppressing a belch, I got to thinking.
What is this place? Why, and for what purpose?
I started piecing my memories back together. The train car. The sands. The tank crew. The grenade. The thought of rescue that sent me wandering off to who-knows-where. Men in uniform. If Anton’s stories were to be believed, they’d been taking me to a quarry to move rocks. Never made it. The jeep blew up. I became a free man, tied up though I was. Yeah, luck had been running heavily in my favor, though I hadn’t valued it at the time. Then I frayed through the rope and fell asleep. The next morning I was overtaken by a fever of activity. I was buzzing with energy and set off, no idea where. I’d never encountered anything like it before. As far back as I could remember, I’d been a doubting neurotic, a sensible coward, but in that moment I turned into a fearless idiot. Exactly that. A moron’s certainty had come over me. The ability to think, analyze, and anticipate was dust and rubble compared to a fool’s spontaneous decision: «Do it, and that’s that!»
How was that even possible?
My whole life I’d had complexes about everything. I was scared, I suffered and agonized, doubted myself and everyone else, believed in nothing, was certain of nothing, but then something strange happened. Someone flipped a switch, and my skull got fed a steady current instead of an alternating one. I remembered the exact moment I stood up, looked left, right, forward, back, and, without a shred of hesitation, decided: «That way!» That became possible under some outside influence, I’m sure of it. Just as sure as I am that the same outside force flashed something on the horizon — a glint of water, or something else, unclear, ephemeral as a sunset breeze in Honolulu, a place I’ve never been. But damn it, I went trudging off toward that Honolulu. I wandered into the sands, where I lost my strength and my mind all over again, got ready to part with my life. What stopped me?
I remembered. The redheaded woman, who liked me…, or rather, liked my pants. And I myself got in the way too, magnified a hundred times over. Everything before that point could be twisted into some crooked, unconvincing interpretation, but that… That couldn’t have happened, because it could never happen. I’d been hallucinating, lost my mind. Then it came back.
I patted myself on the head. Found no signs of mental damage, went back to my memories.
What conclusions could I draw? None, except that before reaching the fruit room, I’d nearly died of thirst and exhaustion three times, been scared half to death ten times, and once nearly died of despair and hurt, back when I ended up in the cage. Those were the strongest feelings I’d felt across two extreme days. On top of that, smaller feelings had gnawed at me too: disgust, confusion, fright… I’d suffered plenty, and after all that, they go and announce: «Here is the place of your suffering.»
Ha! Nothing more to say. I’m ready to suffer like this for as long as they want, as long as I don’t have to wander around the desert like a self-assured log of wood.
So?
So!
