“Wait up!”
I chased after the man with a fedora hat.
My voice must have caught his attention because he stopped in his
tracks. Unlike most people, he did not turn to scout for the source of the
voice. He simply continued gazing into the distance, though I wasn’t sure what
he could actually see through the thick mist that hung in the still, chilly air
around us.
“Who are you?” panting, I
managed to ask, as I finally caught up with the man. From afar, his tux and
black slacks gave the illusion that he was a lot taller than he really was, but
closer up, I could tell he was no taller than 5 feet 4. He then turned to face
me, an enigmatic smile played on his lips, sending shivers down my spine. His
fedora casted a shadow that cascaded down his face, hiding his eyes from my
sight. A little part of me was relieved
I couldn’t see them. Who knew what evil they might’ve carried with them.
“Ah, Miss Anne! Such a pleasure
to meet you,” he said as if already expecting my arrival. He extended his right
hand, covered with a white glove, totally ignoring my question. I wasn’t one to
be rude, so I took his hand and shook it gently, being sure to at the very
least offer him a polite smile. There was an air of mystery about this man that
I couldn’t quite comprehend. He spoke in a calm manner, yet it wasn’t the type
of calm that soothed one’s spirit, it was too calm that it caused the hairs on
the back of my hand to stand on its ends.
“Well, I must be off. I have a
train to catch,” he continued, taking a glance at his Rolex watch. He snapped
his fingers and suddenly, the ground beneath our feet shook at the rumbling of
an on coming train. From the “chug-a-chug-a” sound that it made, it was pretty
certain it was powered by a steam engine. As the train pulled up beside us, it
let out a “choo choo!” and left puffs of smoke hovering above our heads, adding
to the foggy conditions of my strange surroundings.
“Wait! Sir! I still don’t know
your name!” I shouted as he boarded his seemingly magical train.
“Oh, don’t worry about my name.
You’ll find out soon enough. I know for a fact that we’ll be seeing each other
a lot more,” he replied and then removed his hat and gave me a wink as the
train sped off into the mist. His eyes that were a shade of purple were cool and
to an extent discomfiting and somewhat unnerving. Yet, it had that cheeky twinkle that suited
his know-it-all attitude. Then again, he really did know it all.
“My name is Marx,” he revealed
as he took a sip of tea out on the patio, our rendezvous. This was three years
after our very first encounter. Surprised that he finally decided to reveal his
name after countless days spent together in this foreign land, he piqued my curiosity. “Why have you only decided to tell
me now?”
“Because this is the last we
will ever see of each other, Anne. I’m sorry,” his said without a hint of
sorrow, his voice still as calm as it has always been.
“But… why?” I asked as hot tears
welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over with just one blink. “I’ve come
to enjoy your frequent visits so much!”
“My frequent visits or your
frequent visits?” Marx shot me one of his enigmatic looks and suddenly, all the
puzzle pieces started to fall into place and it became clear. Never once when
we met was I able to change the weather or choose our settings and scenery or
appear and disappear at will. It was Marx who had the authority to do those
things, who always knew what would happened and when they would happen, who
could call things into existence with the snap of his fingers and I... I was
simply one of those things. I was just a figment of his imagination, a small
part of his dreams.
“Goodbye, Anne,” he said as he
dissipated into thin air and for the first time, I could’ve sworn I heard his
voice crack as he bid me farewell. The
patio and all the memories it held faded with him and all that was left was an
eternity of while, followed by an ominous silence. This is how it all ends…
“Hi, Miss Anne!” a perky voice
startled me, jolting me from my reverie.
… Or not?
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