A Starting Point

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX- THE COLOR AROUND THE SUN

William (eight months later)

"Tell me, Davies, what is Heloyse to you?"
"Is it really necessary to call me that?" I asked with my hands clenched into fists on top of my legs.
- Certainly! Answer my question.
I took a deep breath and relaxed my hands.
— Heloise was...
- Were? Is it not over?
I stopped for a moment to think and looked at him again.
“I prefer to think of her in the past. That's where I left it.
- Continues.
“She was someone important. She took from me, things others couldn't.
"In a good way?"
- Yea.
"Wish you could go back and do it all differently?"
“If I went back to where I hurt you, I would have let you go anyway.
"You didn't hurt her on purpose."
“Still, I hurt her. This is a fact. My violent instinct caused all of this.
- Like?
— I was violent with Johnson and the consequence of that was a sequence of shit.
Malerman jotted down a few things in his notebook, then pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.
“Do you mind? - he asked.
- Not. But you know that cigarettes are bad for your health.
- Yes I know. As well as keeping all kinds of bad feelings. Depression, hate, sadness, grudge, all are bad for health. There are studies that claim that depressed or anxious people are more likely to acquire some type of cancer. Take the bible, for example; in proverbs it is mentioned that a cheerful heart serves as good medicine, but a downed spirit dries the bones.
"I think my bones have dried to the point of dust," I said a little softly. “Actually, I think I'm a walking speck of dust. Just it.
Malerman laughed and lit his cigarette.
- And that's bad?
— Considering that grains of dust are tiny things and without any beauty, I think it's bad, yes. I think they are very similar to me. Small and insignificant.
“If you look like the motes of dust, then there is beauty in you.
“I don't see how.
“Well… The particles could have anything from human skin, hair, animal fur, arachnids, fungi, insect remains, and many other things.
"And where's the beauty in that?"
— Without the dust you could never appreciate the clouds in the sky. Earth particles, or salt particles, which evaporate from the ocean and are carried to great heights, form the nuclei of raindrops. Ah, add to these particles, the dust of your bones. He chuckled and arched an eyebrow. "And have you ever stopped to see the lights around a number of dust particles, Davies?"
- Not.
“They scatter light in different wave sizes. On sunny days, they are whitish-yellow, at the end of the afternoon, when the sun goes down, we see that reddish color around, because the lower the incidence of rays, the greater the amount of dust they have to cross the horizon line . Do you know why in cities, where pollution is higher, red is more vivid? - I did not answer. — Because the greater the pollution, the greater the amount of dust particles and the more beautiful the show becomes(16).  Around sunset there is dust, Davies.
"Are you saying that pollution is a good thing?" I asked, laughing.
I understood his point, yet I wanted to hear it.
— What I mean is, there is beauty even in the things we don't care about, or in the ugly things that have happened in our lives. In all that skin, hair and fungus found in the dust, there is a beautiful display of colors when they are around the sun. Life is a show of colors! In all this life of yours, there is something beautiful, Davies. There are not only tears, pain and tremors... There was love, on the part of your mother, Calvin, Eva, Thom, Martin... There was friendship, there was Heloyse. And I know that in her, you found much more than you ever looked for. Dust grains are important. Without them, we would never appreciate the clouds, the rain and the beauty of the sunset. If you are a speck of dust, Davies, then there is something beautiful about you. Ask Calvin and Eva how important you are in their lives. If you could ask Wallace, you would know how important you were to him too. There is beauty in you. Then show the spectacle of color in an ugly speck of dust.
He looked at me for a moment, flicked his cigarette ash into the ashtray, and returned his attention to his notebook.
That same day, I sat in one of my chairs, watching the color around the sun and the spectacle formed by dust particles.
I was just a speck of dust, trying to become light.

(16) Super interesting.