Chimere-Chapter2

Chapter 2

Welcome.

I stood dazed in the sunlight for a few moments, then decided not to add a sunburn to my list of current displeasures. Resigned to my situation, I wandered over to the nearest porch and sat down on a wooden step. I pulled my knees up and closed my eyes, folding my arms around myself.

 

The darkness beneath my eyelids coupled with the total lack of noise was making me feel lonely. Not even a twittering bird, a crackling TV, or a caterwauling alley cat to be heard. This must be how it feels like to be in a town that has recently been nuked, I thought to myself. I was just about to fall asleep when suddenly, the strange sound of feet shuffling across gravel caught my attention. I opened my eyes and looked up.

 

There, standing right above me as if he was a friend about to ask me out for a fishing trip, was a young man, looking at me with interest, with his head cocked to one side, hands in his pockets. “Oh, at last”, I thought, and staggered to my feet.

 

“Do you live here? Hey, can you help me, my car broke down and I could not get a towing company, because my hand phone is out of its network region. I was on my way to work and I got lost, and oh Gosh, I’m late for an important meeting, and the editor is gonna kill me. So the thing is, can I use your landline? I’ll make it quick.”

 

No answer. The guy blinked.

 

“Do you live here?”

 

The guy cocked his head to the other side and continued regarding me with those big round eyes.

 

“Er…do you understand English?”

 

Still no reply. I wanted to ask him if he could hear, but decided that would sound sarcastic. And I was eager to stay on good terms with probably the only person who could help me now. 12pm. Oh, well, I did not have a good feeling about that editor’s meeting from the start anyway. To look on the bright side of things, at least he could not call me to shout at me.

 

The stranger broke into a grin and reached out a hand, tugging my sleeve gently before motioning for me to follow him.

 

“Hey, what…”

 

He turned back again and made a beckoning sign with his hand. Then, he continued on his way. Feeling that there was nothing for me to lose, I jogged to catch up with him. Presently, I caught up with him and started to walk at the same pace astride him.

 

“This is strange. Who are you? Where are you going?” My mind momentarily flits to some stories about inventive methods of robbery, kidnapping or car jacking that was happening more frequently nowadays. This guy seemed sincere, but you could not trust anyone nowadays, even sweet looking ladies could turn out to be accomplices of robbery gangs.

 

“Really, I want to know who you are…” and then,

 

“Wait, do I know you?”, because suddenly I realized that he did indeed look familiar, but somehow I could not name any names. It was as if he was a childhood friend that I used to have, but then forgot about later in life. I did not feel threatened by him in the least, but for good measure, I added, “Don’t try anything funny, I have a black belt in karate.” To which he just laughed and skipped forward, beckoning for me to catch up. That laugh was very familiar. This guy was strange. As strange as this town and just as charming.

 

We passed many rows of houses, and the buildings grew sparser and sparser. Concrete houses turned to red brick ones, and the brick houses turned to modest wooden countryside villas. Nature seemed to be taking over the man-made structures, and even now, the houses looked as if they could have been built by fairy folk or gentle animals; beings unknown to human civilization, as we like to call it. Faintly, I wondered how far we had traveled. It seemed to be many miles, but yet my feet were not weary. On the contrary, I was starting to feel a sense of curiosity. Where would this road take us? Probably not to a car workshop or my editor’s office, but I felt like there was a solid purpose for which we were venturing, all the same.

 

The scene all around us was one of serenity. A wonderland of which all children dream of. One where people are free to go wherever they will and do whatever they please. No fear of criminals, accidents, or judgement by discerning public, out to rate your every move like a judge at a dog show, even though they themselves despise such snobbish prejudices. This was a wonderland that children all someday are taught to forget about, and in turn tell their children to do the same, a vicious chain of victims who loose their humanity to become humans.

 

Ahead of me, the mysterious man led the way, his hair gleaming in the sunlight. This man was not part of the chain.

 

By now, we were in a dewy field, with only a dirt road under our feet. Grasshoppers sang as small butterflies danced within a courtyard of wild flowers. The mysterious man slowed to a walk, and approached a riverbank. Smooth rocks clacked under his feet as he respectfully approached an old mossy bridge. As he walked, he let his fingertips brush the top of the riverbank grass. Then, he came to a halt in front of a dilapidated wooden signboard at the foot of the bridge. Both the wooden signboard and the bridge had deep veins carved into them by the hands of Mother Nature’s many years. Yet, they were built strong and sturdy and had many more years of use in them still.

 

Wordlessly, I stood beside the man, wondering what was about to happen next. As if in a mime, he lifted one finger and looked at me with his back arched backwards slightly. Then, he bent forward and rapped on the signboard with his other hand. When the echo of his last knock faded off, he marched purposefully onto the bridge. Thoroughly nonplussed, I just followed him.

 

At the end of the bridge, there was a curtain of leaves and long graceful vines. Golden berries hung on them like Christmas ornaments.

 

The stranger turned to face me.

 

“Welcome.”

 

“What? So you can talk!” I had barely finished my sentence when he flitted behind the veil of leaves and disappeared completely from my view. The greenery must have been a lot thicker than it looked like from this side. I advanced forward and pushed aside the vines to walk through.

 

I was taken aback by what I saw behind the vines. For instead of more shrubbery that I had expected to find, there before me was a bustling flea market! On the left and right side, stone buildings towered. In front of me, there was a full range of colourful stalls, tents, bull carts, curtains, stands, lines and anything else you would care to mention. Swarms of people flowed around me in all it’s noisy glory. Tall people in billowing scarves. Dark people decked in gold. Short people with their hands moving as fast as they talked. Little children in groups of ten, playing hide and seek under vendors’ tables and between women’s skirts. Stately women in expensive clothes and powdered faces, attended to by her servants, bodyguards, escorts and advisors. Live animals for sale, transport, entertainment or company further added to the sounds, smells, and general atmosphere of the market. Cows tethered pitifully to sturdy trees, goats bleating and swatting flies with their tails, chickens escaped and running helter-skelter, with their owners chasing after them in close pursuit, scattering the onlooking, giggling crowd. Monkeys sat on window sills and hung from stall umbrellas, snatching fruits whenever the stall vendors had their backs turned. Pigs wearing bowties played hopscotch and did math for an appreciative audience.

 

Here, the sky was a cloudless indigo. It was a comfortable temperature, but I could not tell what season it was. Some people wore gloves and hats with flaps. Others wore Hawaii shirts and flip-flops. Still others wore traditional garments of 6 continents and went around barefooted. The ground below was dry and sandy, a stark contrast against the dewy untamed grass across the bridge. I turned behind, but to my surprise, there was just the flea market street, and no leafy curtain from which I had exited.

 

But most importantly, the mysterious man was nowhere to be found.