A Million Bodies

"Hi," I say, my voice hoarse.

  "What on earth happened to you?!" he exclaims, relieved and angry at once.

  "How did you get in?" I ask, instead of answering his question.

  "The door was open," he tells me.

  "Oh?" I say.

  "So what happened?" he insists.

  "Ok, but how did you come up with the idea of coming here?" I ask.

  "You phoned me!" he exclaims, emphasising every letter of his three word reply.

  "Oh, I phoned you? I cannot recall that," I say pensively.

  Arthur remains silent, waiting for me to continue.

  "I drank a potion and then I had a dream-" I start.

  "You mean you used drugs and then you hallucinated?" Arthur retorts.

  "We have to go to a monastery," I state, ignoring his comment.

  Arthur sights.

  "Which monastery are you talking about now?" he asks me.

  "Are there any monasteries around here?" I want to know.

  "Something weird is happening here," he tells me.

  "Arthur, do you know if there are any monasteries around here?" I insist, addressing him by name for the first time ever.

  "There is a place four hours from here. It's a very strange spot, I ended there long ago?" he starts, and pauses, lost in some thought.

  "What about it?" I ask, "Why do you call it strange?"

  "I?I cannot say," he replies, his tone low.

  "Let's go," I decide.

  "I don't know what we're getting into," Arthur mumbles, lowering his eyes.

  "We are already into it, Arthur," I say, locking my yes onto his, still lying on the floor.

  "Gosh Iris. Ok, let's go," he capitulates, offering me his hand and pulling me up.

  Chapter 17

  I am awake, and yet my perception of reality remains shifty. All the familiar objects around me appear oddly foreign, known and yet in part different from the way they should be.

  I am unable to define the hour of the day till I get in Arthur's car and read the clock. 5:03 a.m., it reads. I wonder for how long I've slept before Arthur shook me awake.

  "When did I phone you?" I ask him.

  "At around three thirty, why?" he replies.

  "I was just trying to rebuild the sequence of events. But how did you manage to find where I live?" I want to know.

  "You told me when you called. Are you sure you remember nothing? It's strange that your call reached me right then-" Arthur starts.

  I look at Arthur, waiting for him to formulate his thoughts.

  "It's strange," he repeats, and we drive in silence for a moment before he continues.

  "I was dreaming when you called. The dream took place in a distant past, and I was a doctor. I was escorted in a rich carriage to a hidden place, situated in a rugged and remote land. The two men accompanying me led me into a small abode, nested in the cavity of a rocky wall. The place was filled with bottles and ampoules, and it seemed to me I had landed in an outlandish chemistry lab. I heard a muffled cry coming from a room I hadn't noticed at first, where the men gestured me to enter. And there, lying on a black bed, I saw a woman in labour. She looked at me with pleading eyes, and when I sat beside her I couldn't tell if she wanted me to help her deliver or to keep the baby inside her forever. "Promise you'll take care of her", she begged. I placed a hand on her forehead in an attempt to calm her down, but she was determined to get an answer. "Promise. Promise that one day you will remember to tell Iris that I am her mother, and that my name is Katrine," she insisted."

  I gasp, and Arthur looks my way for a moment too long till a loud, continuous honk wakes us up to reality.

  Our braided eyes turn in unison, clashing against the red traffic light we just burned, the head of a huge truck, and our cracked windshield, as time condenses into a frenzy of lost seconds.

  Chapter 18

  Arthur breaks but it's too late, our car hits the truck, it spins, my body hurts, my head feels light. I sense the car drifting off the road, beyond Arthur's control, as my consciousness slips away.

  When I regain consciousness all around us is darkness, and I reason that we must have ended up in a tunnel. Our car is moving, but I cannot find the manual break to stop it.

  "Iris, are you ok?" Arthur's voice emerges from the blackness in which we are immersed.

  "Yes," I say, "And you?"

  "I'm so sorry, Iris," he apologizes.

  "Don't apologize, tell me if you're hurt," I insist, the words quickened by the adrenaline still flowing through my veins.

  "I'm ok, and I'd feel even better if I could understand what's happening," Arthur replies.

  "Can you try to break?" I ask.

  "I've tried already," Arthur tells me.

  "I can't find the hand break," I say.

  I hear Arthur feel around the car, and I sit still, holding my breath.

  "It doesn't work either," he tells me after a moment.

  "So the breaks are broken".

  "I doubt it. There's something else happening here. Don't you have the perception that a force is pulling us somewhere?" Arthur replies.

  "Are you scared?" I ask.

  "No, not this time. Now I really want to see what's next," Arthur says, and a moment later we exit the tunnel, our bodies and car battered and yet still functional.

  MONASTERIUMBURG, reads a wooden sign in the unpaved road unravelling before us.

  5:03 a.m., reads the clock in the car.

  "It seems like we got in the right spot in no time," Arthur comments, forcing a laugh to lighten the atmosphere, as we look at each other and shiver.

  Chapter 19

  The breaks of the car have started to work again, and Arthur stops right in front of the sign.

  "I need a moment," he says, resting his head on the steering wheel.

  "We'll be fine," I try to comfort him, patting his shoulder.

  "It might sound like a very conventional statement, but I think it's time for breakfast," Arthur unexpectedly tells me, raising his head.

  I look at him, surprised by his sudden change in mood.

  "Yes, miss. There's a bed&breakfast not too far from here, and I want both: the bed and the breakfast. No discussions. Unless I get some food and some sleep I refuse to go any further," he says in reply to my perplexed look.

  "I have no objections, but-" I start and stop, completing the sentence with a desolated gesture to the empty road.

  "Well, we are at the boundaries of the village of Monasteriumburg, but there's more to it than this unpaved road and these trees. Trust me," Arthur says with a jolly tone.

  As we drive on I figure there's more to Monasteriumburg than the unpaved road and the trees, but not much more.

  There's a gas pump, a couple of houses and a bed&breakfast, indicated by a large sign which must have looked trendy in the 50's but is now in a state of partial decay.

  "So you've been here before?" I ask.

  "No, not really," Arthur says.

  "Then how do you know the place?!" I wonder in surprise.

  "It was about 10 years ago. My marriage had just fallen apart. Friends kept inviting me to parties and dinners to lift my morale, but what I really needed was some time alone to digest what had happened. One weekend I took the car and started driving, with no real destination in mind and the GPS switched off. I have a good sense of direction, but after a while I got lost, and ended up in this town. I saw the monastery from a distance, and drove by this bed&breakfast. I wasn't actually sure I'd still find it here, but I'm glad they haven't closed it down," Arthur tells me.

  "And you didn't stop back then?" I ask him.

  "No?" he replies hesitantly.

  "Why?" I want to know.

  "Because when I did a woman approached my car and said, 'This is not the right time'. I remember it as if it were yesterday," Arthur tells me.

  Now he is looking at me with startling intensity.

  "Who was it Arthur?" I ask.

  "Someone who looked like you," he says.


  Chapter 20

  I don't know I'm scared till I sense my body shiver. For a moment I attempt to understand what is happening, but then I surrender, letting my hand slip into Arthur's. The shivers running through my worn out body gradually subside.

  "Someone told me he'll refuse to take any action before having breakfast and having some sleep. I decided to follow the example of that wise man, whoever he was," I say.

  "I never knew you could be reasonable. Since when has the change happened?" Arthur laughs.

  "Since everything else started to be out of whack. I love contradictions," I smile.

  "Ah, it's reassuring to know that at least some things never change. Come on, let's go," Arthur tells me, opening the car's door.

  When we enter the bed&breakfast a blond girl welcomes us with a broad smile. The whole place seems stigmatized in time. The girl too, young as she is, could be born in the 50's and never aged since then.

  "Welcome back," she tells us.

  I look at her questioningly.

  "Here are your keys," she says, handing us a keyset hooked onto a bulky slab of wood with 503 written on it, in black.

  "And we have those croissants you like," she adds airily, pointing at the room next door.

  "Thank you Katy," Arthur says, smiling back at her.

  He heads to the dining room and picks a table, looking around with a content expression.

  "Arthur?" I say.

  "Yes?" he replies, turning my way.

  "Are you sure you haven't been here before?".

  "I'm not. I don't remember being here, and yet it feels like I know this place and the girl," he tells me.

  "Of course you know the girl. You called here by name" I observe.

  "Oh, did you not notice the name tag on her shirt?" he smiles.

  "Would you not have known that her name is Katy without reading the tag?" I ask.

  Before Arthur can give me an answer our breakfast arrives, carried by a plump lady, blond, all smiles.

  "It's good to see you again," she says with familiarity, winking at us.

  The croissants and the coffee exude their fragrant aroma, filling the room with the calming charm of known things.

  We eat in silence, and then, suddenly, Arthur looks at me, smiling broadly.

  "Don't you feel like we just got married?" he asks me.

  "Yes I do," I reply.

  For a moment I am surprised - almost startled - at the spontaneity with which the words come out of my mouth, before happiness dilates inside me, full and undeterred.

  Arthur and I smile at each other, get up from our table and head to room 503, our hands laced together.

  The two blonds wink at us as walk past them, and I ask Arthur, "When you said you wanted to sleep, did you really mean it?"

  Chapter 21

  I open my eyes to a bright morning, an ultra-modern bedroom and an alarm clock tune ringing me awake. I moan slightly in protest of the unwanted sound and of the light gushing from the window.

  "Are you awake?" Arthur asks me as I stir.

  "Ehm?I had a strange dream?you were my professor and we were?somewhere," I mumble.

  "Gosh. Where the hell have we been?" he asks.

  My eyes slowly open.

  "Where the hell are we now?" I reply, suddenly feeling as if I was supposed to be elsewhere.

  Arthur jumps up.

  He's still recognizable, and yet there seems to be something different about him.

  "Why do you look so strange?" I mumble, still half asleep.

  "Me? Strange? What do you mean where are we now? This is exactly where we are meant to be," he replies, bugging his eyes.

  Of course, this is our bedroom, our alarm clock, and the man beside me is my husband.

  "Yes, but yesterday night we were somewhere else," I insist.

  "I don't know if I want to go back there," Arthur says gloomily, almost talking to himself.

  "Were you not happy?" I ask.

  "Happy, yes, and unsettled. And so were you. Next time we'll get the volunteers to step in the time machine," Arthur states.

  "Sure, but-" I start.

  "Stop. Next time we'll get the volunteers to step in the time machine," Arthur cuts me off.

  I am determined to get Arthur to come back to the monastery with me, but this is not the right time to argue.

  "Very well," I reply.

  "Very well," Arthur mechanically repeats, and springs off the bed.

  I look at him without speaking.

  "I'll call them now, I think we can get started today," he says.

  "It's 7 a.m., Arthur," I try to reason.

  "Two of the guys are academics, and all academics are morning birds," is Arthur's stubborn reply.

  When Arthur is in his hyperactive mode communication with him is ineffective, and I head to the bathroom ruminating my irritation in silence. I personally selected the volunteers, and the time machine should become a commercial product. That's the goal, and yet I cannot accept the idea of someone other than Arthur and myself stepping in it.

  I have let myself steam under a flow of hot water flow for a long while, when Arthur steps in.

  "Hey there, are you still alive?" he laughs.

  "Do you need me?" I reply curtly.

  "As a matter of fact, I do. I got a hold of three of our volunteers, and we're starting the trial today. Come on, get out of the shower and let's have breakfast. We're getting our guys in the machine in one hour from now," Arthur says briskly.

  Chapter 22

  I've mentioned nothing of my plan till now, but when the three volunteers are in the time machine, almost ready to depart, I say, "The machine hosts four people."

  "Not this time Iris," Arthur replies to my unspoken allusion.

  "Why not?" I insist.

  "Why not? Because we agreed that it wouldn't be us to go this time. I need you here to do the monitoring with me," Arthur tells me.

  "There are things I need to know, Arthur," I object.

  "We'll have time to go later on," Arthur argues, but the previous assertiveness of his tone gives way to a pleading notes.

  "I need to go. I'll be back soon enough," I state conclusively, stepping in the machine.

  Arthur looks at me with a beaten expression, opening his arms in resignation.

  "Please don't give me that face. I'm not betraying you, you know?" I say, feeling guilty and yet unable to give up my decision.

  "Ok," Arthur replies, trying to disguise his anxiousness before turning around and pressing the switch.

  Chapter 23

  I'm sitting on my bed, still wearing my nightgown. I look in the direction of the window, trying to define my spatial and temporal coordinates. The light coming from the outside has the brightness of summer mornings at 8 or 9 a.m. The hour has not changed since I entered the time machine, but from the look of what I am wearing I must have landed in a long gone century. My room is beautiful, arrases are draped along the walls, the leaded glass of the window is finely crafted, and the furniture is made of good quality wood, elaborately carved.

  I am unaware of my current identity, but judging from the surroundings I belong to a rich family.

  Memories of a dream flash back to my mind - or was it another trip like the one I am taking now? Is there a difference? I recall my mother's words, "The royal family to which you belong," she had said.

  I am pondering if I am in the royal palace, when I hear a knock on the door.

  "Please come in," I say, not knowing what to expect next.

  A stiff woman impeccably dressed in a long dark dress opens the door.

  "His Majesty expressed his wish to see Lady Iris," she announces.

  So I really am in the royal palace.

  I nod, as a rush of adrenaline abruptly gushes through me.

  When the king steps forward he fills the door with his presence, and when I see him - for this first unforgettable time - I gasp.

  I am not intimidated by his size, the authority he exudes or the power he ho
lds. What knots my tongue is instead my own reflection projected on him, a resemblance between myself and this man so striking I doubt - now more acutely than ever before - about the uniqueness of my identity.

  "Iris, my child, it is time for me to speak to you with great urgency," my father the King tells me, his frown deepening as his gaze runs from my charcoal eyes to my naked arms, my legs and feet, pale and exposed.

  I observe the apprehension in the king's eyes with tenderness, loving for the first time the father I've never met before.

  "I am here to listen, father," I tell him, smiling.

  Chapter 24

  My father the King is silent for a moment, and then he starts, his voice calm. "My child, my reign is afflicted by famine and wars, the times are hard."

  "Our family has overcome hardships for centuries, there is no doubt we will honour our strong heritage," the reply voices itself through me.

  Father smiles.

  "We certainly will," he nods.

  Then the smile fades on his lips, and he resumes, composed and yet pained.

  "My child, I longed so much for your birth. I've waited for your arrival for the longest time," he tells me.

  "Father, I know the truth about my birth," I say, my voice steady but my heart racing.

  Father gasps, losing his composure for a moment.

  "Mother spoke to me in my dreams," I tell him, as I cannot define my encounter with my mother in any other way.

  Father observes me, waiting for me to continue.

  "I met mother in another life and in another time?" I begin and stop, unable to explain myself further.

  The room falls silent, and Father takes my hand.

  "Your mother Kathrine is a woman of outstanding power, and her gifts are beyond the human mind," he tells me, bowing his head as he speaks.

  "Where is she now?" I ask.

  "She lives in the woods, in a land unexplored and wild," he tells me.

  "Father, we must speak to her," I say.

  Father nods his assent.

  "You must," he agrees.

  "The times are hard," he then iterates, "And the enemies are everywhere, even in the bosom of our very family. We need help from your mother Kathrine to succeed."

  "Uncle Ludwig is the enemy at the bosom of our family and-" I start.

  "How do you know?" Father interrupts me.

  I recount my encounter in the monastery, knitting together the fragments of memories into a patchy quilt of recollections.

  "I cannot fully define what I've seen and heard," I tell him.

  "I know, my child, and what I am about to tell you know is no less extraordinary than what you described," my Father says.

  "What is it, Father?" I urge him.

  "You have a brother, Iris, and he lives within you," father's words fall on me, slowly and heavily.