40 Days In The Desert

Chapter 9 - The Gift Of Life

Souss-Massa Region, Morocco, 10th of July 1999

Having faith can be one of the toughest and most provoking aspects of someone's life. It's easy to affirm that I believe, to recite the Creed, and think that I've abandoned myself to His mercy. Yet, last night, I thought that I'm losing a drop of this faith the moment when my feet started freezing and the eagle was nowhere to be seen.

I cried and begged for forgiveness, for daring to question His will after that. Only when I was left without tears, with my soul tortured by pain and guilt, I have seen the eagle returning to me. Maybe just a minute early to save me from dying from the cold, which transforms the dunes around me into sand icebergs.

Life is a miracle and a gift that so many of us take for granted. This is a thought I woke up with after enduring the cruel cold, with my feathery friend covering me with his wings. We all have it, yet few of us appreciate it to its actual value, which is infinite.

This reminds me of one of the moments I lived when I managed to see the complexity of the gift of life. Something that I don't wish to take part in again, but of a very strange depth and beauty.

~

West Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany, 28th of June 1988

When I don't do shifts at the club, one can find me in the record store. Especially during the weekdays when Grillenloch isn't holding any parties. I somehow managed to find a balance between the two job options my boss could offer, and also earn extra money. Not much, but enough to allow me to finally switch places.

Now I don't live in a building I'm ashamed of. The new apartment isn't luxurious by any means, yet it's far more decent — with water, heating, and electricity working reasonably at a price that allows me to also have what to eat and to even save some money. Which, for me, translates as perfect.

When working at the record store, I started putting on some music. The new genre, techno, has really caught me. The sounds are an actual oasis for my agitated senses, and a way to find my balance even during some days which seem tiring or overwhelming for my inner force.

John, my friend from the night I killed Gerhard's assistant, passes by pretty often, browsing through the stacks of records and always making big purchases. He claims he's a music lover, yet his tastes are pretty basic. Which makes me believe he does that only because he knows I get a small commission from the sales.

Today is no exception either. John has gathered no less than fifteen records, among them one of the most expensive discs in the store. He places them proudly on the counter, like he actually believes himself to be an avid fan of the genres he's buying.

"How's it going today?" he asks me, always jovially.

"Good," I smile while adding the amount of money he has to pay, and double checking it on the calculator. "How are things for you?"

"Pretty well," John replies. "Do you wanna go out tonight?"

Usually, I wouldn't like to hang out during the week, yet John has always been nice to me ever since we met. And, despite the fact that he might be developing a slight crush on me, he's keeping things on a friendship level. Always careful not to overstep the limits or make me feel uncomfortable in any way, so I think he earned himself a night out with me.

"Okay," I say, and put his discs in a bag. "That would be..."

I can't finish my phrase and tell my friend the amount he has to pay, but he sees it on the cash register and puts on the counter way more Marks than the indicated number. Usually, I'd argue this practice, but I can't unglue my eyes from the last person I'd expect to see in our store.