The Stranger - Max Frei [266]
Making myself comfortable in the rocker that I had grown to like, I lit up a cigarette. The meaning of what Sir Mackie had told me was sinking in very slowly. I would have preferred to be a complete blockhead. My head was spinning in circles, my ears were ringing unpleasantly, the world consisted of a million tiny points of throbbing light, and, it seemed, it was about to implode.
Max, I told myself earnestly, get a grip on yourself, all right? Whatever those mighty Creators of the World may have done, it’s no reason for you to lose your mind.
This helped, as it had helped me occasionally in the past. I decided to take a bath. Twenty gallons or so of cold water on an overheated head is an ancient, time-tested remedy for all misfortune.
When I went back to the rocker, I lit up again and noticed with pleasure that the living room looked just as it was supposed to—without even the throbbing points of light. There was an ordinary human floor, ceiling, and four walls, all exactly where they were supposed to be.
“Okey-dokey,” I said out loud. “Now it’s safe to go wherever you wish, honey, whether to the Country Home in search of wayward Lonli-Lokli, or beyond the gates of the city to observe absolute emptiness, or whatever I’m supposed to discover there. I suspect that the first option is more tempting, but Sir Mackie was very insistent in urging the second on me, so—” I shut up then, as there was a clear hint of madness in that soliloquy. I smiled an apologetic smile at Marilyn, staring at me from the large antique mirror, then stood up and left the house with a determined air.
My legs took over and led me in an unknown direction, beyond the uncanny bridges and the narrow dark wrinkle of the Meaire River. To the city gates—where else would my crazy limbs be destined? It looked as though I had no choice but to go along with them.
Forty minutes later I was already walking along the ancient wall of the city. It was so high it seemed the inhabitants of Kettari had tried to block out the sky, and only after many centuries of stubborn effort finally abandoned the hopeless endeavor. I was able to find the gates easily. Too easily for my taste, since my fear was far stronger than my curiosity, and only a strange feeling of helpless doom pushed me to undertake this expedition. I passed quickly beyond the gates as I had once dived headfirst off an enormous cliff.
Instead of a yawning abyss, I was relieved to discover the massive silhouettes of the famous Vaxari trees, blacker than the sky. The greenish disk of the moon kindly agreed to light my path, and I gazed at it in gratitude. I had never thought a distant celestial body would do so much to help out a lowly human creature.
I found myself walking down a wide road. There was no doubt that it was the same road that our caravan had driven along into Kettari just yesterday. I ambled along straight ahead, realizing with pleasure that my mood was steadily improving. My silly, childish fears scattered into the dark lairs of my unconscious like scampering mice. For the time being, at least.
I don’t know how long this stroll lasted, but at a certain moment I noticed it was already getting light. I stopped abruptly and stared, flabbergasted, at the sky. It could hardly have been later than midnight when I left home, although . . .
Are you sure your sense of time is in working order? I asked myself. After the instructive conversation with Sir Mackie Ainti and your pathetic attempt not to cave in under that small avalanche of information?
I looked around, and my heart thudded behind my ribcage—but this time from joy rather than fear, though it was most likely a mixture of both. A few yards ahead I saw the end station of a cable car, and up ahead loomed a city in the mountains—the wondrous, seemingly uninhabited city in the mountains I always dreamed about. I was certain that these were the silhouettes of its massive buildings; its fragile, almost toy-like towers; and the white brick house on the edge of the city, atop