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+--- Thread: Story of the lost son: Eric Heimdall (/showthread.php?tid=16659)
Story of the lost son: Eric Heimdall - ... kur nubėgo? - 02-18-2009
I was drinking my fourth draught of beer, when a dark dressed man sitting in the darkest corner of the pub caught mty attention. He was holding a small piece of paper, perhaps a letter, faintly illuminated by the candle on the table at his side... I couldn't resist. I finished my drink and ordered another two. After that I took both beers and walked to him, hoping that he will tell me his story.. maybe I wasn't the only one suffering in these dark times.
'May I perhaps wit with you, and serve as you companion for a few hours, as well as this beer for your soul?" I asked him kindly.
'You may sit' he answered even more politly than I had asked him. 'So what brings you here, stranger?' the old man asked.
'Dark times, and troubles... I lost my job yesterday, so I thought sinking my depression to the bottom of a tumbler isn't such a bad idea'
He silently gave me a nod without raisng his eyes.
'And' I continued 'What kind of paper is this, that it makes you sit in this dark corner?'
'It's a letter...' The old man showed another side of the paper. Yes, it was a letter. 'In these days you hardly ever see this kind of letter.' 'Letter written by my adopted...'
Son?" - I interfered.
He took a few deep swollows from his beer.
'Ya.. . I remember. He was one of the smartest kids a man could ever hope for, he showed a lot of promise for a man of 19.' He begun.
I saw pity in his eyes, it seems he was thinking of the boy as a real son...
A lost one.
'No matter how hard he studied he always was able to find time for our farm. HE knew to sow crops, look after them. Oh and we wouldn't have been able to imagine a harvest without him. After the harvest ,in the celebration he was always the soul of the party... Very good singer, talented dancer... Oh, and the girls, he always had a lot of attention from them' - he was staring at the floor at the moment.
I think the old man didn't wantme to see his eyes, his tears, his soul weeping forth... If it was true, he was successful in this matter.
'The days were going fast. We were quite happy. Until, until Eric joined some sort of college brotherhood... Soon after that we witnessed him changing.
His warm smile started to show up in our house less and less until it stopped to embellish his face once and for all'
He raised his mug to his lips again.
Refreshed, he continued: "Weeks passed. He started to come home later and later. One night I decided to wait for him... and ask Eric about his brotherhood eye to eye. I was waiting for a long time. It was twenty minutes until sunrise when he returned.
He tried to be as quiet as possible, hoping not to wake whole family. Then he was passing through the kitchen I turnd the light on. He was astonished
'Where you been?' I asked him 'Whats is happening with you? Why are you coming home so late?'
'Why do we never see you smile'? I pleaded, tears in my eyes. His answer was short, but clear:
'Landwirtrechtbewegung.' He told that he is leaving right now. That everything is ready for his trip to Darmstadt.
'But.. but I don't believe it...'
Tears dropped from his face on the floor...
'I told him to go to bed, and stop his nonsense and that we would talk about it in the morning.
In the morning.. . I understood hat he wasn't joking about this. He was gone. Ech, my wife didn't care, she didnt love..."
Bekummert.. but how this is related with this paper you hold?" I interfered, becouse I didn't want to listen about his family relationship probems, so I needed to make a swing.
'It is the worst nightmare for parents to overlive their children, am I right?"
'I don't have children yet... but as I imagine yes"
I answered a bit confused, 'Well... I think about him everyday. Thinking, is he still alive? Do he have food to eat? Is he well?'
'... And now I got this letter. Yes, I can regonize it from his handwriting, beautiful isnt it?' he showed the letter to me.
'Yes, yes it is' I answered truthfully.
'Here he writes, that he is ok, that he suffered a few injuries but all in all he is ok. Here he says,' he spots the place with his finger, 'How he met a high ranking officer from Bruchsal base, how he helped him to understand why we are living opressed. Why we were working not for ourselves but for Synth Foods. Here he talks about the working class, of a revolution.. About a free man who is working not for goverments or corporation'a pockets but for himself. And that he needs to be a part of that revolution. That Rheinland needs people such as him...'
'Thats... shocking!' I said loudly when I heard all this talking about that terrorist organization of people who 'bring' justice.
'Yes it is.. and you know what is the worst part?' He finaly raised his head to me, and showed his green eyes full of crystal water..
'errmmm ' I kept silence, shocked by his deep green eyes..
'I'll never have a chance to say how proud I am of him.. I had one chance before... that morning but.. but"
I left him alone to sit in the corner enlighted in the slowly parting candle fire. I closed the pub's doors behind me. It was cold on New Berlin... but I may as well start searching for a new job.