I thought becoming a practitioner and moving away from my life in the country would fill the hole inside me that I dreamed of being filled, but like all dreams, it died - faster than I could have ever imagined.
And so did the dream that was Daniel Taylor.
I suppose I should begin my tale by telling you how we met: I lived in an inn that was run by an old widow that took over her late husband's business. It was all I could afford and all that I ever needed, me, a bachelor that was an apprentice to the neighborhood doctor.
It was quaint, small - it was perfect. My room was upstairs at the far end of the hall, just big enough to fit a bed, a dresser, a wardrobe, a desk, and a few sitting chairs sprawled out across the room. I lived quietly, as a respectable and responsible doctor-to-be should. No one bothered me, and I didn't bother anybody.
When I heard that we had someone new moving in, I disregarded it. Actually, I forgot, only hearing it on my way out the door for work.
I did not know anything about this newcomer. I didn't know if they were a man or a woman, how long they were staying, or why they came here; only that they stayed at the top of the stairs and were coming today of all days. On a Monday
I was exhausted, coming home from work - so much so, that that when I climbed the stairs to my room, I tripped over something - a trunk, standing before a closed door.
As I tried to get up, cursing to myself for such clumsiness, the closed-door suddenly opened. There, stood tall and proud, was a face I had not laid eyes on. Immediately, I was embarrassed and looked down to avoid eye contact. I picked myself up, muttered an apology, and hurried back to my room.
I heard more about this stranger at dinner. He was from England, was military, and was to stay for a few months closer to a year. The few women at the table blushed, mentioning how handsome he was, while their husbands discussed his intentions (hopefully not for their wives.)
I listened to the conversation, partly reimagining the man's face, and partly praying that I didn't make a bad impression on him, this man that was called Daniel Taylor.
He didn't come down for dinner, nor for any other time that evening. He stayed in his room, door shut, and quiet. I glanced at his door when I passed it on my way to my room. He was a curiosity indeed.
***
I didn't see him for four days after that. He wasn't at any mealtimes, said to prefer going out instead. (How he could waste money like that while the meals were free, I didn't know.) I didn't see him when I was leaving for work, and I didn't see him waiting for the bathroom. It was like he was never there.
It was only when one evening when I came home from work did I see him closing his door behind him, dressed in a coat and hat.
There, at the bottom of the stairs did I fully see him. He was a well-built man with strong distinct features, the contrast between his dark hair and pale eyes being one of them. He was indeed handsome, but sad in a way I cannot explain to you.
We met eyes immediately, which made me look away. I carried myself up the stairs while his eyes followed me as though following an insect. I felt tense, but I tried my best not to let it show.
As I passed him, I ushered a good evening to him and continued my way down the hall, but a hand clasped my shoulder, and I jolted around.
He seemed surprised by my alertness, but nonetheless, let it go. He returned to a calm state.
"Do you happen to know of a well-rounded tavern?" His voice was thick of accent, though you could tell that he tried to sound as Americanized as possible.
My lips moved on their own. "I can show you of one." I paused, realizing what I said. "O-only if you want, of course."
He thinned his lips for a moment as if thinking over the thought before blinking and dismissing it.
"No. I rather you don't."
His silence made me uncomfortable, so I made quick talk of the directions before hastily excusing myself, blushing as I walked back to my room.
Never in my life had I been more embarrassed as to give simple directions to a bar.
***
I found him in the sitting room later that evening, a novel in hand before a fire. It was a little past midnight, and I could not force myself to sleep. I hoped a brisk walk would calm me, though I regretted it once I saw him. I wanted to turn away, but he had already heard me and looked up with his pale eyes searching my face before looking back down at his novel.
"It's chilly. You need a coat." He said. My heart stopped.
"Sorry?"
He looked back up. "You need a coat. It's cold."
"I have one on already."
"It doesn't look warm enough."
"This is my only coat."
He looked as though he were figuring out what else to say before finally deciding not to say anything, shifting in his chair and looking back down at his novel.
I stood there for a moment, replaying the conversation in my head and cringing while doing so before resuming my path toward the door with the dire need to forget it. However, once I opened the door, I was met with wind that nearly knocked me over. I shut the door.
"Come sit by the fire," said Daniel, still not looking up from his novel.
I did as I was as told, partly curious about him, and partly because I was cold. I sat in the armchair beside him, close to the fire. I felt much better.
He didn't say anything after that, though I was hoping he would. "What are you reading?" I asked, my hands tightly bound in my lap.
I was surprised when he looked up, meeting my eyes. "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."
"That just came out, didn't it? Isn't it a children's book?"
"Reading is reading."
"Yes..." I looked down after that, picking at my nails. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn't find anything to say.
"Have you read it?" I looked up.
"What?"
"Have you read the novel?" He said.
I blinked, looking back down again. "I don't have enough time to read. I'm a doctor, you see-. Err, I mean an apprentice to one. I would read, but I'm too tired to and I don't have the patience for it right now. I read textbooks, but that's just flipping through pages and reading brief statements. I do like to read though. I did enjoy Pride and Prejudice, but I suppose that seems odd to say as it is a romance and popular for women. I did quite enjoy The Odyssey, though-"
I stopped when I found myself smiling and met his eyes. He was staring.
"So no." He said.
"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I haven't read the book."
"I see."
"Yes."
He thought something over. "By chance do you happen to know of a bookstore?"
"Yes. It's about a street or two up. Unfortunate, it's not closer, right? I was deeply disappointed when I found out it was so far away. I was looking for background knowledge of this medicine and where it came from. I had just moved here and it took me forever to find it. I asked around, but I'm not so good at directions. I tend to forget, but Heaven forbid I forget a bookstore!"
Still, he said nothing. I apologized. "It's fine. I enjoy the company." He cleared his throat. "Would you care to join me tomorrow?"
My anticipation almost jumped out of me. I answered too quickly. "I have work tomorrow, but tomorrow is Friday, so I should be back soon if you want to go in the evening. The shop doesn't close until about seven-thirty and I should be home about six-thirty, so we can go if you still want to. I can buy you dinner as well." I frowned. "Only of you want, of course."
"That should be fine."
He looked back down at his novel, and I was left trying to make it less awkward. It took me five minutes for me to come up with something.
"So, what do you like to read?" He turned a page, not looking at me.
"Mostly fiction, but I tap into other things as well. History, mostly. Greek."
"Greek?"
He glanced up at me before leaning back in his chair. "The Greek influence has spread significantly all over the world. From medicine to literature, to language, to the idea of democracy that runs this very country. The Greeks have left an impact that resulted in numerous inventions and innovations today."
"I know little of this. I'm afraid that my education is only basic, except in medicine. In college, we learned of what medicine is and what it does. How to fix a hurt ankle and the curiosities of the human anatomy, but I did not know it was credited to the Greeks."
"And I assume that the things you learn have been credited to who? Men of a title? Of wealth that had the money to fool around?"
"For the most part."
"What is your philosophy?" It was an odd topic, one that surprised me.
"On what?"
"On anything. Life." He seemed to be interested in this, and it was only right as a conversationalist as well as a neighbor to answer.
However, it was very hard for me to come up with a philosophy of my own. I had never considered such a thing before. "Uh, well, I think life is something worth living for."
The brightness of his eyes made me gulp. They were fierce with profound curiosity that held me in place against my will. Yet, it was my will that hadn't changed. I don't know if it was the taboo conversation or him that made me want to say.
"And what made you think such a thing?" he asked, seeming pleased.
"I don't know," I said. "I like life, I think. I like reading, going for walks. I like skipping stones, I guess."
"And what if you want to die?" He asked, all of a sudden. "What if you don't want to live?"
"I-I don't know."
"Hmm." He thinned his lips, his brows furrowing. He stared at the ground, lost in thought. I wanted to know why he asked me such a thing. I had never been asked that before. I haven't even considered it myself. I felt the words bubbling in my throat, but it never reached my lips.
I wish I could tell you why it didn't, but it was probably the same reason why he wasn't looking at me.
I tried my best, though, to return to a conversation that both suited us. The topics were ever changing, though, we talked mostly about the knowledge we knew, the things that had academic value. I must admit that I had never felt so refreshed over a conversation then I had with this curious stranger.
His eyes were alluring, though, I couldn't quite get over the glossy shine of them in the dim light of the fire. They were cold, but held my attention. I wanted to stare into them, but I could never look for so long. I felt that I might be held captive in them.
His voice, though, I couldn't help but smile a little as I heard it. He tried too hard, I thought. His 't's were sharp, and almost every word that ended in 'r' was instead replaced with a 'uh' sound. Teachuh. Doctuh. He could not help but say it in such a way that made him sound different. What made me most happy was when he said my name: I-z -uh -c
Izuhc. Izuhc. Izuhc.
It was like a tune that stayed stuck in my head the whole night. My own name had became my new obsession, and it was on his lips and in his brain. It was beautiful, he was beautiful. That night, after we departed ways, I could not stop myself from saying it.
Izuhc. Izuhc. Izuhc.