// TWO //
"So, tell me, May. When did you really know you wanted to study liberal arts?"
I stare at Cass, sitting in front of me, on this mystical train we still haven't gone off. This is second one though. The one from Andermatt to destination; Lugano.
"I first heard about it around the age of 15. I didn't know what it was, but the person who introduced me to it told me about her courses and I was very intrigued. I looked into and fell in love."
"That's so typical," she says with a playful scoff to which I answer with a oh-yeah face. "I have the most unusual story."
"Shoot," I say quite intrigued that she is this confident about the greatness of her story. Well, it is Cass, she is always overly something about eveything.
"I had a school project for art class to do on liberty. I was trying to turn liberty into an adjective for art and I was searching for pictures online. When I put liberal art in the search bar, two things popped up: pictures about a liberal arts education and movie posters for a movie called Liberal Arts. Amazing and life changing is all I can say about the movie. And voilà, je suis là."
"I want to see that movie!"
"You really should. It's amazing."
After a brief pause, my bladder threatens to erupt.
"Okay, so I need to pee."
She waves her arm telling me to go right ahead.
I stand up and walk/run to the bathroom. All this reminds me of is my dream and I just walk faster to make sure I get to the bathroom before I bump into a beautiful man.
I make it. I run in. I urinate. I wash my hands and I run back to my seat.
"You seem pretty startled."
I give her a you-should-know look.
"Last time I was running down a train alley to a bathroom, shit happened."
She forms and 'O' with her mouth and turns towards the window again.
"Next Stop: Lugano" a woman's voice says through the intercom as the train takes off after the stop we just passed.
"Hey Cass."
"Mmmh?" She mumbles still not giving me her full attention.
"How did you deal with your parents' divorce? How do you still do it?"
She looks away from the window while biting her lip. She frowns as she stares at her feet. She keeps forming a V with her white Vans and sticks them together again in a swift motion. She repeats the action many times. I can only wait wondering if I just messed up.
Once she looks back up, her eyes are as dark as her miseries and they threaten to pour the most massive waterfall I think we will see today.
"Come here," I quickly say beckoning to the seat beside me that no one cared to fill, thankfully.
She almost jumps for her side to mine.
"Cass, darling, I'm so sorry. I would have never brought it up if I had known."
I keep her head nuzzled in my side and I play with her hair. I hear her sniffles, but after a minute, she raises her head again wiping everything off.
"No, it's fine," she mumbles rubbing her, thankfully, mascara-less eyes. "You could have never known that the divorce brings me to think of other things."
"Look, we might have met a few hours ago, but we have spent all this time together without pissing each other off and the way we connected means that we will be great friends. So, you know that you can tell me anything, but I won't ask you because I don't want to bring things up that you'd rather keep inside or to make you say anything, okay?"
She looks up at me just as the train turns. The sun's light now directly hits at us and Cass' eyes have never looked so beautiful and that's something to say, because they were what caught my eye at first.
She jumps on me and hugs me.
"We have only met a few hours ago," she whispers against my neck. "But in these few hours together, you have been a better friend to me than anyone has ever been. However, this story needs time. I promise, whenever I'm ready to tell you, I'll sit you down and explain everything."
I nod.
"You want to stay here and sleep on my shoulder?"
Without a word, she makes herself comfortable. Before we know it, we both sleep until the end of the train ride.
"Last stop: Lugano. Arrived to destination."
"Hey," I say shaking my shoulder and patting her forehead. "Cass wake up. This is our stop. Cassandra!"
She suddenly jerks and gets off the sit in a karate ready-to-attack position. I look at her standing in front of me with one knee bent in the air. She has one extended arm with a flat palm in front her and the right one is in a curved position over her head.
I just stare. That's all I can do.
She snaps out of whatever it was that took her over and starts casually packing her bag. I slowly get up and do the same, still having an eye on her, because I have so many questions flying around in my head right now. I think, maybe, her movements and attitude will answer them.
I walk behind her to the door. She starts walking down the steps. As I put one foot down to start descending the grey metal steps, a hand grabs the collar of my shirt behind me and drags me to the ground from behind. The doors close and all I hear is some strong punches on them probably coming from Cass. The sound fades away as I get farther and farther which is when I realize that I am not fighting back.
The train won't take off again until ten minutes when they will fill people from Lugano and take off in the opposite direction again. I have time.
I try to get away. I hit the person's legs, but they are very strong. I get myself to stand at the same moment they open the bathroom door and throw me in. I fall on my knees, my head barely missing the toilet.
All I can think about is my dream.
The notion of an enclosed space having caused bad things in a dream is enough to make my mind take over my body and for my breathing to accelerate again.
At first, I'm afraid to turn around to see the same guy from my dream, but at the same time, it would be relieving to know that this person exists.
Wait, would it really? Rethinking that, I actually believe I'll be quite scared if he exists. I'll wonder day and night where I've met him, if he doesn't know me of course.
How is it that I'm babbling with myself? Aren't my thoughts supposed to be clearly "spoken"?
Ugh, so many questions, May. Just shut up.
He closes the door behind him. I grab the toilet seat and push myself back in a standing position. Once I'm on my feet, I turn around to stare at the same blue eyes that had haunted my nights for so long.
He looks at me with suddenly widened eyes as if I'm not who he thought I was. Maybe I remind him of someone.
"Let me go," I say with a slight French accent.
I used to get very self conscious because of the accent I had when I spoke English sometimes. It was much more intense when I first moved and now, it's almost nonexistent. For some reason, in some situations, it comes back. Like this one. Now, it's not the really the accent I'm embarassed about, but the fact that I don't have one means that I'll continue speaking normally in a few seconds as if I was faking it.
He still doesn't say anything and stares. I could too, but I try to control myself and keep my eyes off his blue ones.
"We have an empty train for ten minutes and you're keeping me in here. What are you trying to do?"
My breathing fastens its pace and I know that a claustrophobic in a dense bathroom made for one filled with two isn't going to survive much longer.
I hold my chest and he wears a look of panic. I do not understand why he suddenly cares. "I need to get out."
He steps aside and slides the door open.
I walk out suspiscious, taking deep breaths, but I am alert.
He runs up behind me and grabs my arm. I take the oppurtunity to check my watch and well, I have eight minutes.
"I know you," he says swaying his head from side to side as if I'm those magnetic toys that change images when they move.
"I know you too."
"I dream about you. Almost every night."
I stare at him. He seems nervous, not at all like the man in my dreams.
"You haunt my mind everytime I close my eyes."
"So, your dreams are nightmares too?"
I nod. We suddenly both look down at my arm. He finally lets go of his tight grip.
He shakes his head and suddenly every ounce of anxiety and sympathy falls from his face. I am a bit scared, but now I have seven minutes and I need to use them wisely.
"How is it that we've never met but we know each other?"
"I don't care. I'm here to finish what I was sent to do."
I am shocked by his sudden change in tone and emotion.
I roam the looks of the train. It's just now, in the midst of it all, that I realize it. Everything is exactly like my dream. The glowing silver contour around the glossy windows and the polished wooden benches with the burgundy covers on the seats.
Even the look of resentment he wears and the twitch in his left hand's fingers are the same.
"Don't you think it would be more important to find out why we already knew each other rather than you kill me? There has to be a reason you were sent to me."
"There is a reason for everything. Just like there was a reason I was ordered to assimilate you. And I always follow my orders."
I stare at his hand and I am deathly afraid that this will end like my dream.
"Wait. My dream was in this same exact train. Someone wearing a black glove will come behind me and cover my mouth and hold my neck. He works for you."
I narrow my eyes and hold my head trying to remember past the brain shattering head ache.
"There's something with clippers and a lot of pain in my stomach. There will be a lot of blood. You will do that to me."
His hand falls and he looks at me with shock.
"I know everything that was about to happen right now, don't I? Then why go through with it instead of trying to figure it out. You have nightmares about me too. Why not figure out why and how?"
Almost terrified, he lets his hand fall, strength-less, and sighs.
"Okay, well my dream is in a train as well. I get up to go to the bathroom. I knock and the answer is a hard hit back. I ask the person if they are okay and all I hear is a muffled scream followed by labored breathing. I slide it open and there's you, on all fours. You tell me you're claustrophobic and that you cannot bear to stay in the bathroom another minute. I pull you out, but you look up at me with a smirk. I turn around to a man with a black glove that holds me in place. You say 'let's get down to business' and all hell breaks loose."
I stare at him, amazed that this is actually happening. I cannot believe that for one, I have found him. Two, he has the dreams too. Three, I am calmly breathing again in this situation.
"Oh my God. Our dreams are the same, but we're just in different positions. The train and the bathroom, the same black glove, the "let's get to business" at the end. You say it too."
He continues to stare.
"What are you going to do? Still going to kill me?"
He still looks at me. He almost looks scared.
"I'll get off the train with you."
"Isn't there someone working for you still hiding out there?"
"My boss sent someone to help. All I have seen of him is the back of his head putting on black gloves. I can't go find him. He'll know for sure that I've disobeyed so we have to lose him now."
The timing is impeccable because the doors open and people start getting on. I'm afraid Cass will try to get on and find me so I quickly text her that I'm okay and that I'm coming down. The perks of early cell phone number exchanging.
He holds me by my side. He thighly grips on my shirt.
"Afraid that, you think I'm going to run away?"
"I can't take any chances. I'm already not following orders."
As we rapidly move through the crowd trying to get inside the train station lobby, I unconsciously stare at his strong hand. He holds onto me like my escape would break him. As if my cooperation and safety is all he has left.
He lead us through the crowd of people standing at the gate with ease. Once Cass answers with what I consider a very startled "WHERE ARE YOU?", I tell her that I'll meet her at the exit, on the main street.
"I'm going to loosen my hold, because there are less people now and a tight grip might look suspicious. Please don't make me regret anything."
His eyes almost hold sorrow the way he looks down on me.
"Would it work better if I held onto you too?"
I wrap my arm around his waist once I finish my phrase. Almost uncomfortable, he simply nods and keeps walking towards the street. We pass by numerous families, security guards, surveillance booths and many camp groups.
We get around the baggage drop for the very long trips across countries and we arrive to the main entrance. He sends me first in the revolving doors and follows immediately behind.
The heavy city breeze hits me and I cannot help stare at the city that will hopefuly, but terrifyingly be my residence in a couple of months.
"Do you see your friend?"
I look around searching for a golden haired hyperactive. I suddenly see clusters of people at a time jerk away from the middle of the sidewalk, avoiding what's happening in the center. Once she's close enough, I realize it's Cass taking over the street completely and running at us with full speed.
"MAY," she yells while running.
She slows down and stands in front of us. I try to ignore the shoulder and bag hits I get from people trying to pass by around us. It seems harder for him to endure them judging by his eye rolls and jaw clenching.
"You," Cass exclaims poiting her index at his nose. "You better tell me what the hell you were doing with her on that train."
"Cass, calm down. There is something wrong, but...".
I don't know how to bring it up without sounding ridiculous.
"Observe his appearance. Does he look like someone I told you about?"
She tilts her head. She mouths the parts of his body she goes over. I follow her eyes, roaming his boots to the very top of his head. She suddenly gasps and it's as if she will explode from all the air she has engulfed at once. She lets it all out in a shaky breath.
"You look exactly like the guy from her reoccuring nightmare. Did you know that?"
The slight curve of his mouth shows me that he almost wants to laugh at her charisma, but that he holds strong to any display of emotion. He finally nods.
"He has reoccuring nightmares of me too, Cass. We need to figure this out."
"There's a lot you don't know and that you normally should not know so we need to get out of here."
I look at him as he swiftly turns his head from side to side trying to check his surrounding for the people he works for, I bet. Cass leads us to what she described as a spiritual vegan coffee shop. I don't know what that is exactly, but we just need somewhere quiet to talk.
"I never quite caught your name," I tell him still not used to his arm around my waist.
"Paul."
"I doubt the veracity of that. You being a 'Paul' is highly unlikely."
"And why is that?" He asks in a very firm tone and not in a friendly and playful way at all.
"Because it is highly likely for you to hide your identity. Two, you seem more like someone who has a strong and original name."
"And why is that?"
"Oh, stop with the third degree. I don't know, P-. I'm not calling you 'Paul'."
"Darius."
My smile widens from ear to ear. I look up at him with a satisfied smirk.
"See? I knew it, Darius. Third king of the Persian Empire."
He laughs. Dimples form in his cheeks and lines surround his soul shattering and eye blinding sky blue eyes.
"May, right?"
I nod.
"Whem are we going to get there, Cassandra?" He asks her.
"Well Mr. Nightmare Guy, once we cross this street, well, once the light turns green of course, we will be two feet away."
He simply shakes his head, still omitting the fact that I can see his real facial expressions. He hasn't realized that I have seen every laugh and smile he has expressed today.
"This is it," Cass says pointing at the glass door protected by its wooden frame. When I push the door open, separating myself from Darius for the first time, chime bells sound.
We walk into the small café displaying a couple of two person tables, about 6 of them. At the far end of the store, there is a big blackboard on the wall with all the foods and the drinks, written down in different chalk colours, and their prices. Right in front of me, there is a booth with 4 separate tables in front of it. Behind it, a fridge with pre-made salads and sandwiches.
I would never know how to decorate a place to seem 'spiritual' nor do I know the name of the things they used, but this place just seems and feels like a food holding sanctuary.
Cass walks in front of us before turning around and stopping us in our tracks.
"Take a seat, guys. I'll get us something. No one is actually vegan, right? Cause I'm not, but their other foods are really good."
Darius and I shake our heads. We sit at one of the tables in front of us. He sits on the chair by the table and I slide in the booth.
"What will you actually be able to tell me, Darius?"
He holds his hands together on the table. He stares at them while shaking his head.
"Not much, honestly. My boss is someone you don't want to play around with. I don't know what is considered a secret or a fact."
"Okay. Understandable, for now. But, will you at least be able to tell me about you and your past?"
He looks up this time. He looks at me with a tilted head and narrowed eyes. I can't tell what he might be thinking.
"Maybe a bit, for now. I need to figure some stuff out before I tell you anything."
"I know you do, but you also need to know that at the end of the day, I need to know why you were sent there to kill me and why we see each other in our dreams."
"Do you mean the end of the day litterally or metaphorically?"
I let out a small laugh, "metaphorically."
He just nods as he licks his lips and stares at Cass approaching us with a tray. She whips her hair behind her shoulders with a sudden movement of her head, without the help of her hands. She almost throws the tray on the table before throwing herself next to me on the bench.
"Why so intense?" I ask her.
"I need to show him who's boss," she whispers thinking that Darius didn't hear her. By his smile, I can tell he did.
"Start talking buddy," she throws at him while opening her plastic bowl of potato salad.
"I appreciate you sticking up for your friend, but I don't need to be pressured by you to do anything, Cassandra."
"Ugh, stop calling me Cassandra. You sound like my dad."
"And do I want to sound like your dad?"
She shakes her head while mouthing an obvious 'no'.
And like almost every reaction he has had regarding something Cass has said, he smiles.
"Tell us blue eyes, why are you haunting her?"
I hit her shoulder and by my look, hopefully she understands, that I am pleading her to stop being so mean.
"I don't know. She is in my nightmares every night as well. But I can tell you why I was told to kill you," he finishes turning towards me.
"That would be great information to know," I casually say nibbling on my vegetarian pizza. I mean, it's no big deal that I would have died today if I hadn't had an automatic mechanism of self defence.
"My boss told me that your family moved all over Europe working for a government project and that today, you were going to bomb the university."
The pizza stays in my hand. I cannot get closer to eat or put it down on the table. My mouth stays agape and I freeze completely. Once I'm thawed, the self defence mechanism is triggered.
"What the fuck do you mean by 'was going to bomb the university'? Do you even see who you're talking to? Do I look like I'm from a government affiliated family that has the capacity to raise a girl to become a full grown spy and assassin?"
"After all of this yelling, I'm afraid so."
Cass tries to get up and probably beat him, but I pull her back down. How can she not see the smile on his face that clearly means he's joking? But God, him joking at this time is preposterous and offensive. I might just get up and beat him.
"I will deal with that smirk later," I smoothly let him know. "Tell me why in the world your boss," I continue, bitterness lingering on the last word. "Would think such things of my family?"
"He showed me pictures, videos and placed them in a certain context and gave me arguments. For some reason, he acted as if you are the only criminals in the world. He was so sure and so confident. It was as if he had done his research and read it over a thousand times. He showed me proof. Proof that I profoundly believed in. I would never kill, but he was able to convince me. He is a strong energy that you cannot defy."
"Darius, listen. I'm glad that you didn't kill me and that we are cooperating, but I need to know more than you're telling me to be able to trust you. I need to know that this isn't all part of your plan . Nothing but valid information is going to let me belive you now."
He sighs. He lets his sandwich fall on the table.
"Look, I want to know everything too, more than you can imagine. But I told you that I need to figure some stuff out. Here's my number."
He takes a paper out of his pocket. Almost automatically, Cass takes a pen out of her bag. He takes it and writes down his number. He slides it in front of my pizza.
"I'll see you later, May. Don't miss your open house, it'll look suspicious, and don't tell anyone about this."
He leaves Cass and I at the table and walks out the store.
All I can do is turn to Cass. She shrugs.
"What is happening right now?" is all I can think.