To read the begining of the story click here |
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In the bar, it was cool, semi-dark, a bit damp and quiet enough to hear each other without screaming. The photos of old-time Hollywood filmmakers covered the walls. There were few people and most of the tables were free. Robert, that was the name of Wilfred's new acquaintance, made a welcome gesture to the barman, and when the barman answered the greeting, he said: "Two beers." A waiter quickly brought a beer, chips with spicy sauce and salted assorted nuts. Wilfred took a gulp and nodded with satisfaction. "Not Budweiser, huh?" Robert winked. “No, thank God. I like this place.” “I’m Glad.” “Where are you from?” Wilfred wanted to be social. "Does it really matter?" Robert also took a sip. “No, I just asked for the sake of decency. Why is it that we talk all about me all the time?” "Caz you need to vent. Let’s talk about me later. We’ll have the time. So, you said the wife has really got to you.” Wilfred winced, closing his left eye. “Not that I’m complaining. But yesterday, for example. She told me that everyone is complaining about me not say hello. And I go…, ‘Is it really me who’s not saying hello?’ and she goes ‘No, it’s me.’ She’s being sarcastic, you see, I say hello, but I say it quietly. And if they can’t hear me – it’s their problem!” Robert laughed "More beer?" “Yes thank you.” Robert waved to the bartender and the waiter brought two more bears. ‘It's weird,’ Wilfred thought, ‘somehow, I feel at ease with him." Unlike his usual stance of barely saying a word in public, the words flew easily and he felt that along with the next glass of beer, he went into deeper layers of frankness. "You know ... did you ever feel like you were in a bubble?" As if all other people, onlookers on the street, shoppers, co-workers, and even relatives seem to be as far away from you as if you were watching the news on the TV. They seem to walk, laugh, say something, but it's like they are behind the glass.” "How is that behind the glass? What if they touch you?” “When I touch, of course, I feel them, but as if not touching with my hands, but through…” Wilfred wrinkled his forehead and looked up, looking for the right word, “through a rag or something, through plastic. You know, like it's a secondary touch transmitted through a dense medium.” "Am I behind the glass, too?" Wilfred again wrinkled his forehead, thought and swallowed from the mug. “No, you do not seem to.” He smiled. “In general, I'm fine with you.” He held out his hand to Wilfred, clenched into a fist and Wilfred touched his own. "You're a good man, Robert, although you look weird." “I know.” “Have you ever felt different from others: misunderstood, underappreciated?” Wilfred went silent. Robert just nailed it. Wilfred always felt like an alien in this world. He had never felt at home. He loved the city in which he was born, as well as many other cities, where he traveled or lived for a while. Yet, there was no city, where he felt himself at home, not alienated. There was no place, where people were happy to see him and greet him as their own? Gathering thoughts into a bundle, Wilfred bitterly stated that there was no such place on the entire planet. Robert continued, "everything annoys you: books, films, people… Is it not? "Yes," Wilfred confirmed sullenly. "Do you want to know why you feel this way?" “Tell me.” "I'll tell you, but not now." - Robert looked at his watch. “You think I should go home, huh?” “I'm going to take you there. You look completely wasted.” “You're right, I don’t know why? With two bears?” Wilfred indeed felt very sleepy. Robert clicked his fingers. The waiter brought the bill. Wilfred began to rummage through his pockets, but Robert raised his hand in a protective manner. “Well, this makes me feel kind of bad. I, too, ...” "You’ll pay you next time." Robert calmed him down. He paid the bill and left the tip for the waiter. Then they got up and wandered to the car. Wilfred needed support and not only the moral one. |
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Wilfred lay on something hard. The stiff light hit the eyes even through closed eyelids. His head ached and when he opened his eyes, Wilfred did not get scared. Directly above him, there was a strange face. It was hairless, bluish-gray, with oversized eyes of deep blue color, located in the center of even larger eye sockets.  The creature stirred. "He pressed the button," Wilfred figured. The pain gradually began to recede. Wilfred looked at the homunculus with gratitude. "Mercy Monsieur, or maybe it's Madame? Still merci. Now it would be nice to turn my head. I don’t want to look at it all the time." The homunculus again produced some action and Wilfred was now able to turn his head and look around. "Laboratory" came through Wilfred’s head. He was lying on some sort of aggregate with tentacles, suckers, and buttons around him. "…a fucking torture chamber ..." Wilfred concluded. "Well, I got caught. Now the homunculus will torture me with an electric current or in some other weird way." "This is not our goal" - the phrase suddenly appeared in Wilfred's mind and clearly did not come him. Wilfred winced. For some reason, it was now that a sticky fear crept over the spine and settled somewhere closer to the sphincters. Wilfred cast a quick glance at the homunculus, but that face expressed nothing. "Is this critter reading my thoughts?" Wilfred became even more frightened, realizing that now he not only needs to keep silence about what he thinks but also not think of anything that could offend a homunculus ... that is, a respectable alien. "Prepare for communication" - the next foreign reply followed. Wilfred tried to trace the origin of the voice. The answer immediately manifested itself in the mind, as if it had been placed there. Wilfred again concentrated on the newcomer. He did not notice a change in his pose or the expression of his huge dark eyes. "Prepare for communication" "What do you want from me?" Wilfred said out aloud, with some irritation. The alien's face did not move and the expression did not change. However, it seemed to Wilfred that the alien again turned something on, because from this instant Wilfred’s memory seemed to explode. The scenes of the distant and recent past surfaced without any rhyme or reason, the memories of the events that Wilfred forgot about and those that he did not want to remember. There was a moment when his dad spanked him for the flour poured onto the floor. There was a fight, in which the neighbor's boys pounced on him collectively and beat him for a long time because he was somehow "unlike them." There was the incident with a math teacher in the fifth grade when Wil solved the problem differently than she demanded and for this, she gave him a fail. He remembered the failure with Adele, the girl in whom he fell in love with, and who accused him of pretentiousness when he simply explained her his thoughts. "I do not understand you, Wil." You're some kind of weirdo…” then, after a pause, she added. “Do not call me.” Wilfred’s jaws jittered in irritation as he clenched his teeth. He did not like the fact that the homunculus rummaged in his brain but he could do nothing about it. The only resistance he could mount was his efforts to think of nothing and not to remember anything, which he tried to do. “Resistance is not recommended,” The homunculus apparently understood what Wilfred was doing. “With resistance, the absorption power would have to be increased and this can cause pain.” Then the process was over. Slightly swaying on his thin legs, the homunculus pressed another button and a large screen opened in the middle of the ceiling. The screen turned on, displaying the starry sky. The homunculus pointed to the spot among the stars. The point began to grow rapidly, turned first into a distant star, then into the sun, and then moved towards one of the planets of this sun. Something in his face moved the first time. He immobilized Wilfred again and slowly pressed the shaft. |
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“Hey buddy, wake up!” Fred shook Wilfred by the shoulder. Is this your house?” Wilfred swallowed saliva, shook his head and looked out the car. The car indeed stood in front of William’s house.
“Yeah, thanks”
“Why are you looking at me in such a weird way, buddy? These two beers must have made some changes in you.” Fred smirked. |
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From that day on, Wilfred's oddities waned. He tried to maintain conversations, and easily stopped them when necessary, always greeted people so that everyone heard him and even sometimes commented on how nice of a person he was.
His wife was much happier too.
"Darling, lately you are behaving much better," she told him one day, "I am so proud of you. What happened?” “Probably, I have matured and stopped showing off.” Wilfred smiled. “I guess at some point in life everyone straightens up. Even me.” Only sometimes, Wilfred felt an unbearable loneliness. In moments like these, he went out in the night, and if the sky was clear, looked at the distant star. |