Marianna/

- What's that song you're humming? - Shadow asked Marianne, living under the bed as usual. - It is the song of thousands of people dressed in green," answered Marianne. - They fought with this song for freedom and happiness for their oppressed country - and lost. There are no more green-clad brave men left in the world. But the song remains. - And inspires thousands of people dressed in different colors to fight," Shadow agreed. - So they can lose and disappear from the world, fighting for the ideals of a country that never came true. No, I would only fight for my pipe and my hat, not for an ideal. And, mind you, I'd never lose. - Would you fight for me? - Marianne asked jokingly. - Are you sure you're real? - Shadow asked, and Marianne couldn't find an answer. And then it rained. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marianne and The Shadow were not destined to meet, but they did. Both had power behind them; Marianne had no enemy, and The Shadow had no friend. And they were intertwined by the threads of fate, unknown how, by whom, and from what. The feeling that settled between them was hard to define, too; it could probably be called "affection." They never left each other, not even for Sunday night and Saturday, when they baked delicious buns in the park. Marianne pretended to leave twice, but both times she left with The Shadow's hat on - and had to go back to get it back. And so it stayed that way. Shadow was marvelously nasty in his own right. He had a talent for grabbing beautiful things and turning them inside out. Marianne had a talent for describing things. She told them how beautiful they were, and they bloomed like scylla from under the snow. Each other The Shadow and Marianne did not touch, looking upon the other's work with contempt and respect. Marianne's friends hated The Shadow, The Shadow's enemies idolized Marianne. And yet they sat together every day in that quiet room; Marianne wrote words on thin triangles of salt dough under the bed, and Shadow looked out of the window, wove a thin cloth like a spider's web, and sang old folk songs in his deep baritone. No one knew these songs except him. They hated each other, but they couldn't get away from each other. They were not destined to meet, so they were not destined to part. And they did not dare to go against fate a second time. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One day an old friend of hers came to see Marianne - and she had to crawl out from under the bed and change her black dress into a colored one. It was awkward for the friend to sit on the bed, and The Shadow was sitting on the only chair in the room. The Shadow did not think of moving: he was smoking a pipe and looking out of the window at the strolling actors. He understood perfectly well, of course, what was going on. And Marianne understood, too, but she didn't say a word to The Shadow. - I'm sorry, - said the angry friend in a loud whisper. - But why do you live with him if he disgusts you? - I don't live with him, - Marianne replied. She was a little embarrassed to be in a colored dress and kept wanting to go back under the bed. - He is my guest. - Why do you invite him to visit if you don't like him? - my friend persisted. - I don't invite him, - Marianne said in surprise. - We don't talk much at all. - Then why don't you kick him out? - The friend was finally angry. - But why should I? - Marianne asked. - At least so I could sit in a chair and not feel awkward! - shouted the friend. - See, - Shadow turned around. - There's a big difference between me and you, boy. You come here to sit in a chair. I come here for her. And I'm not gonna fight about where to sit if my chair's taken. So this chair is mine. Marianne quickly said goodbye to her friend, changed into her black dress, and skulked under the bed. She didn't want to fight with Shadow for scaring her friends, as usual. This time it seemed to her that he had said something very, very important. She couldn't figure out what, but somehow she felt warmer and cozier than ever. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------+ It rained for a long time, almost endlessly. Marianne even crawled out from under the bed to see how rough the glass of the window had become, to breathe in the stiff smell of water through the window, to marvel at the multicolored umbrellas. - I always liked walking in the rain before I started living under the bed, - Marianne confessed, watering the glass. - Why in the rain? - Shadow asked, filling his pipe with rooibos-scented tobacco. - People in the rain don't pay attention to other people, - Marianne replied. - In the rain, it's important for everyone to just get to the warmth. I could walk around and they didn't look at me at all. It was very nice of them. - Should I turn away? - Shadow asked cheerfully. - Why? - Marianne was surprised. - I live under the bed. It's like I'm not in other places, so no one really sees me. - I can see you, - said Shadow. - You can, - Marianne agreed. There were people with umbrellas walking in the rain, and Shadow and Marianne watched them through the raindrops on the window. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - Do you see that girl over there sitting on the bench in the rain? - Shadow asked Marianne, who was coming out from under the bed to look out of the window in the rain. - She looks like a mermaid, - said Marianne. - I can't see her very well. - She's almost become a fog, - Shadow said. He was silent for a moment and added. - She is my sister. I gave her chamomile tea, but she went inside herself into the lake, and there's no turning back. Then I left her out in the rain, and she's almost all mist now. - It was very cruel of you and her, - Marianne said sadly. - There is nothing worse than such a death. - I don't believe in death, - Shadow shrugged. - I don't think anyone can prove to me that it exists. There's nothing to counter it. - How can you not believe in Death? - Marianne marveled. - If you want, I'll die now! - So? - Shadow grinned. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - What's your song about? - Marianne asked Shadow, pecking away at the word "Dandelion" on the salt dough triangle. - It's a song about people who apologize too much, - Shadow said, finishing the seventh red scarf. - They apologize and apologize and apologize, and they bore everybody. - Is it wrong to apologize? - Marianne wondered. - When you apologize, you're telling the person that you care about their opinion of you,- Shadow tapped his spokes. - So it's almost a declaration of love. - Can't you confess your love often? - Marianne asked, just in case, even though she knew that Shadow didn't know. - You should confess your love as often as it is necessary, - Shadow said and went back to his knitting, and Marianne went back to her triangles. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Cats have worms! - Marianne suddenly said. The Shadow took the pipe out of his mouth and looked questioningly under the bed. - I don't know why I just said that, - Marianne said with embarrassment. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marianne and Shadow caught a small firefly and put it in a jam jar, turned off the light and watched without thinking about anything. - Firefly looks like a salad, - Marianne said suddenly. Shadow looked at her and said nothing. - You know, - Marianne whispered. - Sometimes with some people you want to grab them and shake them and beat on them, just to find out how they feel about you, what they think of you, is it possible that they don't leave just out of politeness? - Some questions should not be asked aloud, - replied Shadow calmly. - Then how do you ask them? - So to get an answer, - said Shadow, and his pipe flashed brighter than a firefly for only a second. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - I hate you, - said Marianne. - I can't be with you anymore. I'm leaving. - You're off with my hat again, - said Shadow. Marianne silently put her hat back in its place and climbed under the bed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I've decided to give up these triangles and never write on them again, - Marianne said one morning. The morning was gray and cold. Two hummingbirds were perched on the window. Shadow put away his knitting. Marianne shivered. - And what are you going to do, I wonder, if not write words? - Shadow asked snidely. - I will walk around the park with the other children, - said Marianne. - We will play rubber ball and fry sausages on an iron thing. I will have beige sandals! - Why? - Shadow asked, smiling. - Because it's fun for everyone! - Marianne was confused. - Why do you want to have this "fun"? - Shadow kept asking, and Marianne understood. - To write 'fun' on a salt dough triangle," she whispered doomedly. - You're not like the other kids, - Shadow nodded. - You're never going to run around the park with them in beige sandals and just feel 'fun'. - Then I just want beige sandals, - Marianne muttered under her breath. - Whatever your soul desire, - agreed Shadow. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - What is it? - Shadow asked gloomily. - My hair, - Marianne took offense. - Your hair is blond curls, - Shadow shook his head. - This one is straight and black. - I have changed, - Marianne smiled proudly. - Now I love the man standing under the streetlight. See? - I see, - said The Shadow, without looking out the window. - Now I'm a Marianne in love and my hair is just like his! - Bring it back, - said The Shadow tiredly. - Why would I? - Marianne asked. - Because there is no such thing as a Marianne in love. There is only the real Marianne, alone, without the accompanying words, - said Shadow. - And she has blond curls. - What about the man under the lantern? - Marianne was confused. - What about him? - Well, he's under the lantern, - said the Shadow. - He won't be lost. There's a whole circle of light, and he's in the center of it. - I hate you, - Marianne said, walking out the front door for good. - Give me back my hat! - Shadow shouted at her. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Marianne, - said The Shadow. - Shadow, - Marianne said. And they shuddered in disgust. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marianne and Shadow sat on the windowsill at night. - No one understands me, - Marianne sighed sadly. - I know what you mean, - Shadow sighed sadly. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - What are you striving for? - Shadow asked Marianne when she was trying for the thirteenth time to write the sentence "God paints grass patterns". Marianne thought for a moment: - I'm striving for self-improvement, - she said. - To write on triangles in a beautiful, new, error-free way. - Why? - Shadow asked, drawing a Christmas tree on the glass. - For there to be more beauty in the world... Shadow mumbled something in response. Marianne frowned. - And what are you striving for? - She asked The Shadow. - For Thursday, - replied Shadow calmly. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - By the way, I got married, - Shadow said one day. - What? - Marianne could not believe her ears. - I got married, - repeated The Shadow irritably. - But why? - Marianne was upset. - Because everybody needs to get married. And because she's a homemaker. And she needs me. Now you should be happy for me. - But I don't want to rejoice! - Marianne exclaimed. - Why should I? - Because everyone gets excited about weddings, - Shadow said instructively. - But you and I are not "everyone"! - What makes you think that? - Shadow wondered. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - All right, - said Marianne at last. - At least show me your wife. Shadow took off his hat and pulled out a snuff box. In the snuff box sat a fussy little woman, who immediately rushed to sniff things out. - How much is that floor lamp worth? - she exclaimed. - Oh, is that real oak? What spacious cabinets... Is your tea Chinese? Where did you get it? And what's all this garbage under the bed? - You can't go in there!!! - Marianne and Shadow shouted and looked at each other. Shadow took his wife by the button and put her back in the snuffbox, and put the snuffbox away in his hat. Marianne did not take her eyes off him. - She's a housekeeper, - Shadow sighed, and muttered, as if to himself. - I won't bring her here again. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - How am I worse than your wife? - Marianne asked, putting the triangles aside. - You want me to compare you? - Shadow clarified. Marianne shrugged her shoulders. - To compare something to something, you have to find similarities in you first. Is that what you want? - No, - Marianne whispered. - Fine, - Shadow nodded and went back to the paper. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Shadow began to appear less and less often at Marianne's house. One day he asked: - If I disappear for good and then show up in front of your house in the rain, will you let me in? - Never, - Marianne answered calmly and wrote the word gracefully on the triangle. - Why would you want to go back to a place you've already been? - It's hard to go back to places you haven't been, - Shadow grinned. And the next day, he was gone for good. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marianne's friends immediately came to visit her and congratulated her heartily, as if they had only seen her smile and not the white knuckles of her fingers clenched in the back of the chair. Marianne lived under the bed, but she never appeared there: she was on the chair. She was almost always silent, only listening to her friends praise her. Then she saw a frail figure with blond hair and wearing a black dress (Marianne was wearing a colored one after meeting her guests) and realized she was alone. - A man can only be himself if someone covers his defenseless back, - said Marianne in black. - I have words, triangles and friends, - Marianne in color replied. - Is that enough? - Marianne in black asked. - You can count on me, - her friend said one of the next days. - I will protect you. - But... - And Marianne realized that she needed someone else. So she got up and went outside to look for Shadow. But everyone knew who she was. Or knew who Shadow was. And everyone pointed Marianne to the other houses. Toward the end, there was only one house left in town that she hadn't been to. Marianne was tired, soaking wet in the rain that had started, and she was sick of people, but she was Marianne. The real one. She went to the door and knocked. The head of The Shadow's wife peeked out from behind the door. - My dear, you are tastelessly dressed, - said the head. - You have a terrible hairdo, and you will not set foot in my house. - I need Shadow, - Marianne said, hearing only the familiar odor of tobacco from the ajar door. His wife immediately took that odor back. - What can you offer him, my dear? - The wife asked sneeringly. - Soup? Bed? Tobacco? Tobacco is getting expensive these days, my dear. - I'll offer him nothing, - replied Marianne, shivering with cold. - And some rain outside the window. - You're enemies, aren't you? Enemies, my dear, - said the wife. - I have no one closer than him, - Marianne replied, and heard the back door slamming in the house. And familiar footsteps. - He's not home, - said the wife. - Here's your answer. Marianne walked home, and in every puddle was her reflection, but she was not there. She reached home, entered the house and slammed the door to the world. She didn't need friends anymore. She didn't need people either. She needed solitude and lots of handkerchiefs. She sat down in a chair and closed her eyes. There was a knock on the door. - No, - Marianne said without opening her eyes. So quietly that no one would have heard. - "No to what?" - Shadow asked from behind the door. Marianne opened the door. Shadow stood in the rain and looked at her. - Will you let me in? - He asked again. Marianne left the door open and went to put the kettle on and get two cups from the sideboard. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - You're glad I'm back, - Shadow said contentedly. - Not a bit! - said Marianne. - Everything you look at starts to glow, - Shadow said. - You're glad I'm back. - Closed my eyes, closed them! - Marianne laughed. - The eyelids are glowing, - Shadow hummed after a while. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shadow and Marianne were sitting on the table drinking coffee from the same cup when an old friend of hers came to see Marianne. - What are you doing? - exclaimed the friend. - I came to marry you, and you are sitting on the table with your legs! What kind of man would marry a girl who sits with her legs on the table? - Your shoelace is untied, -Marianne said, and she and Shadow laughed. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - What of everything in the world is permanent? - Marianne asked, writing the word on the triangle. The word kept coming out crooked. - The tendency of people to make everything around them permanent, - replied Shadow, embroidering a black dachshund with a cross. - That's debatable, too. You didn't specify, "constantly" in what period of time? - Always, - Marianne was surprised by the question. - If "always" means "always"? - "Constantly" means "the same", not "always". Can time be the same? All right, then. Then I can give you a meaningful answer to that question. Even better if I give you an irrelevant answer to an irrelevant question. - What of everything in the world is permanent? - Everything. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Colorful consortium! - Marianne's admirer said one day. Marianne and The Shadow looked at him in surprise. - A colibrarium of tents! - I'm sorry? - Marianne asked. - Well, you always talk so incomprehensibly, I thought you'd like it if I spoke incomprehensibly too, - the young man was embarrassed. - Do we not speak clearly? - Marianne wondered. - With words, - Shadow shrugged. - No other way. - We use words, - Marianne turned to the admirer. - But you don't speak them like human beings. Shadow laughed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On Marianne's birthday, an admirer drew a huge picture of daisies and hung it over the pond. All day long people came to Shadow and Marianne to congratulate Marianne on her birthday, and everyone talked about the picture and how well it looked over the pond. As soon as it was dark, The Shadow and Marianne lighted lanterns and went to the old pond. In the light of the lanterns the picture of the daisies reflected strangely and fractionally in the dark water among the lilies. - What's that for? - Marianne asked calmly. - He wanted to say something. - I think he wanted you to like it, - Shadow said uncertainly. - I don't know, though. You live under the bed, and there are so many daisies outside.... It would have been better if he'd only left the picture that's in the pond. - I think so too, - Marianne nodded. - Besides... - Shadow lit a pipe from the lantern and looked at the painting through the rings of smoke. - Besides, he spelled your name with one "n." - You said it would be, didn't you? - Marianne agreed. - Let's go. It's getting cold. The next day it snowed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I didn't get you anything yesterday, - said Shadow. - Are you just saying that to point it? - Marianne asked. - No, - said Shadow. - That was the preface. - And he handed Marianne a pair of knitted red socks. - Here. It's blowing across the floor from the window. You might freeze. - I've been given rings, brooches, pictures, flowers, colorful dresses, and ten thousand cards, - said Marianne, putting on her socks. - But you're the only one who gave me what I need under the bed. - Happy birthday, - said Shadow, unfolding the paper. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - What does the paper say? - Marianne asked. - That a train derailed and everyone died. A flood destroyed all the crops and everyone died. An airplane crashed and everyone died. Thousands of weddings were upset, three hundred people killed themselves, a man set off a bomb and killed everyone in a shopping center. And many more things. - Why do you read such horrors? - Marianne exclaimed. - I don't read it, - Shadow said, surprised. - You asked what was in the paper. I listed it. - What are you reading about in the paper? - Marianne corrected herself. - I read the ads for weird and unnecessary things, - Shadow said, staring at the paper. - They're always terribly funny. The other day I found out that there was a machine that followed you around and picked up papers of a certain size. - But why would you do that? - Marianne asked. - The same reason other people need to know how many people were killed in an airplane crash yesterday, - Shadow answered. - It's no use, but it seems important. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Let's go by airplane? - Marianne suggested, peeking out from under the bed. - It's Thursday. The planes on Thursdays fly Wednesday and Friday, and I don't want to lose a shred of today's Thursday. I love Thursdays, you know that. They're like carrots, dippers, and wood paneling. - But if you fly Wednesday from Thursday, that means you'll have another Thursday there! - reminded Marianne. - No, - Shadow shook his head. - Thursdays should be drunk in one gulp, like pomegranate juice. And never give up half a Thursday in favor of a whole one, but a different one. - But why? - Marianne asked. - That's rude. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After the picture with the daisies, Marianne's admirer disappeared for a long time. Then one day he appeared with a poem. - What is this? - Marianne asked when she saw the piece of paper in her admirer's hands. - This is for you, Marianne, - said the admirer, blushing and stammering. - I have long hesitated to confess my feelings to you, but now the hour has come.... - "This hour," - Shadow muttered to himself, and put on his glasses so that he would have something to hear. - I love you so very, very much, More than myself. I've been walking for a long, long time And I finally found you. You're in my heart of hearts alone, My soul, Mariana! - In the core? - Marianne asked fearfully. - I want to take you beyond the distance of the waters! - said the suitor. - And we'll live there with the birds singing. You have changed me! I've become a different man! I've become eager! I love the beautiful in the ordinary! Please come with me! Marianne looked at Shadow confusedly. - Perhaps we should agree, - Shadow whispered to her. - Otherwise he'll write something else. - If I go, he'll write too, - Marianne whispered to him. - A harsh inevitability, - agreed Shadow. - If you don't go, I'll... I'll jump out the window! - shrieked the suitor. - No problem, - Shadow said, pointing a revolver at the admirer. - It's the first floor, but I'll help you die. You can't let that kind of desire to know nothing go to waste. - Do you want to kill him? - Marianne was horrified. - To be honest, yes, - Shadow sighed. - But he and I have the same end goals, so look at him with the same horror. The admirer screamed and, as promised, jumped out of the window, ran away and never appeared again. - Jumped out the window, - said Shadow. - You won't have to go with him. - Very funny, - said Marianne, and took her toy revolver from Shadow. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - The bathtub is filled to the brim. There's only maple and Marianne in the bathtub. another of Marianne's admirers recited. - Shadow, - Marianne said. - What? - asked Shadow innocently, finishing another daisy and throwing it out the window. - Stop making up poems for my fans! - Marianne got angry. - These poems are terrible! - Their own were no better, - Shadow snorted. - At least mine are varied. And then they truly believe that you'll love my poems right away. I just can't say no to them. - You're terrible, - Marianne sighed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - A vine soared through the window. Between the frames, you, Marianne. proclaimed the third admirer. - Shadow!!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I feel very sad for some reason, - Marianne said, running her finger over the dust under the bed. - Fine. Then be sad if you're sad. - I won't do what you say! - Marianne was angry. - Then have fun, - Shadow shrugged. - Now it's even more confusing, - Marianne said sadly. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I am a carrier of culture! - said Marianne's friend, lighting a long cigarette. - I am the forefront of the masses! I am an exclusive! - Will you have lentil noodles? - Shadow asked. - But we don't have lentil noodles," Marianne reminded him. - I'm sorry, I thought we were all playing some kind of game," Shadow said. - But you go on. Let's just say I didn't understand the rules. - What game? - My friend asked. - Well, one in which everybody offers each other something...unusual," said The Shadow. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I really like Shadow," the friend told Marianne in confidence. - I don't like him," said Marianne. - He is mean and nasty, hurts my friends and eats the salt dough for my triangles. - It's not about you, my dear," said her friend, lighting a long cigarette. - It's no wonder you can't understand his delicate mental organization, for you're not so developed and wise. Look at his fine red scarf, and his dandy hat, and the way he fills his pipe... Ah, he is beautiful, beautiful..... - You want to live with him for two hours instead of me," Marianne smiled. - I'm going for a walk: it's raining outside. - Marianne! - Shade shouted. - What?" asked Marianne. - My black umbrella is by the fireplace. Take it, it's raining outside. Yes, I forgot to tell you... I need it in half an hour. - A mad dog can't travel seven miles," said Marianne, taking her umbrella and walking out. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - So, you are a philosopher," said Marianne's friend. - No, I knit with needles," replied Shadow. - Oh, how much wise simplicity in your words! - My friend splashed her hands. - How much static expression! - Static expression? - Shadow interjected. - Yes," marveled her friend. - You are like a train and a platform at the same time! - Uh-oh," said The Shadow. - Well, you're certainly only a train. - What a metaphor! - exclaimed her friend. - Which do you like better, the windowsill or the bed? - my friend blushed. - You see, for you there is no difference, you immediately considered both concepts as one: bed. Why? I'd go for the windowsill. It's a better place to put a cup of coffee, and you can see the rain from there. - Have you ever been in love? - His friend asked, moving closer to him. - I'm not sure," Shadow said, moving away from her. - I could teach you," her friend said, moving closer to him. - I can't count to twenty-three in Greek, and I'd rather learn it," Shadow said, moving away from her. The door slammed. - I brought your umbrella in exactly half an hour," said Marianne. - Can I go now? - Please tell me," my friend asked wryly. - Which do you like better: the bed or the windowsill? - The windowsill," said Marianne, taking off her gloves. - You can put cups of coffee on it, and you can see the rain from there. Shadow grinned. The friend left and never came back. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Do you know when I'm really going to leave you? - Marianne asked. - When? - The Shadow asked. - When you won't notice I'm gone," said Marianne. - You'll never notice at all. The Shadow got up and went to the door. - Where are you going? - Marianne was frightened. - Buy more coffee," Shadow said. - We're going to be stuck here for a long time. Marianne laughed. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - If you had to save a child's tear or a million coins from falling into the abyss, what would you save? - The Shadow asked. - A million coins or a child's tear? - A child's tear," Marianne shrugged. - Why did you ask? - I'm doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper," said Shadow. - There are seven letters here, but for 'child's tear' I need twelve and a space. - Draw the cells as usual," Marianne shrugged. - And write in our answer. - But the boxes are already filled in here with our response to "the greatest evil in the world." Marianne crawled out from under the bed and looked over his shoulder. - Change the word 'good' to the word 'everything,'" she advised. - Then everything will fit. - Public crossword puzzles are immorally unvariant," said Shadow. - Pass me the proofreader, please. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Marianne! - One of Marianne's friends couldn't stand it. - You have so many wonderful friends! Why are you spending time with this monster?! - Son," said Shadow, putting aside the paper. - Listen to me. A deer has horns, and a snail has them too. The seven oars are imprisoned in a stone cellar, and the mouse has four paws. Are you following my thought? - Uh... No, sir..." replied Marianne's friend puzzled. - Did you do that on purpose! - Shadow was angry. - No... I... I just... - Exactly," said The Shadow calmly, unfolding the paper. - And I don't follow yours on purpose. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Marianne, why do you live under the bed? - asked a close friend of Marianne's. - You haven't always lived under the bed. - No," Marianne agreed. - I used to live among people and do miracles for them. Then one day someone called me and said, 'You have done so many miracles that you are no longer a human being, you don't belong among people. Now miracles will be done for you." So I started living under the bed. It's very... It's very comfortable," my close friend said nervously. - Is there anything else you want to ask? Go ahead. - Marianne, why does the Shadow live? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - When was the last time you climbed a tree? - Shadow asked Marianne. - I don't remember," Marianne replied. - But I remember my bare feet touching the bark. - Come out," said Shadow. - We're going to climb a tree. - I haven't finished with the triangles yet! - Marianne exclaimed. - You'll never be done with them," Shadow crawled under the bed and began to push Marianne out of there. - Get out! It's so dusty in here. When we come back, I'll give you a surprise brush. - What's the surprise? - Marianne asked, pushing herself up with all her legs and arms. - A hint," Shadow replied and shoved her out from under the bed. - Take off your red socks. We'll go barefoot. - But it's cold outside! - Marianne exclaimed. - A living tree is always warm," replied The Shadow. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For three hours and thirty-four minutes, Marianne followed The Shadow and looked at the different trees in the park. Shadow approached a tree, touched it with an open palm, shook his head, and walked to the next tree. - What are we looking for? - Marianne asked. - A tree to be cozy on. - Here's the bench," said Marianne. - It's made of wood. Shadow snorted and said nothing. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Each one. My. Word. Has. Meaning," Shadow said clearly as he and Marianne climbed the tree. - Say it again. - Every word I say matters," Marianne repeated. - Exactly. Even if you get caught on a twig and tear the hem of your dress, please remember that every word you say matters and is reflected in the world, breaking into thousands of pieces. You can't be sure that your words won't bring evil, but just in case, try to say only good things. - The good or the truth? - Marianne asked. The Shadow stopped and looked at her. - Next time I'll show you something new in the explanatory dictionary," he said. - The meaning of the word silence. Every time you're not sure your truth is good enough for the world, you can apply that word. - But to be silent all one's life must be very dreary," said Marianne, and sighed furtively. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Look how many windows there are around," Marianne said as they sat on a tree branch. - And almost every window has lights on, and some don't, but that's important, too. Do you know why I say that? - Have you noticed that it's getting dark around here? - Shadow suggested. - No," Marianne smiled. - It's just that every light is a person I know or don't know. And that person lives a life that I can never penetrate..... - I'm so tired of this," Shadow sighed. - I don't like being told the same things. Then you'll tell me about the moon, the lantern, the night, the bridge, the city that looks like a living thing, the miracles..... And that's what our cloaked ancestors have been saying for three hundred years, climbing up the ivy with a rose in their teeth to the lady of their heart... Why don't you sing the grass, Marianne? - Grass? - The grass, the bark of the tree that you are now touching with your pale rough palms, the smell of fresh leaves, elusive and inexorable, signaling the imminent approach of winter, me, after all, with my red scarf and pointy nose, and how quiet it is in this park and cold.... - But there was that, too," Marianne shrugged. - Seeing the simple in the simple. - You don't understand," said Shadow, shaking his head. - You look out the windows and see the whole world with its people, out of time, out of distance, in your philosophical and playful "there," right? - Yes. So? - Marianne was interested. - And the fact that you can't see the windows themselves. Here and now," Shadow said. - Look around. It's a fall evening, we're sitting on a dark branching willow tree, I'm lifting my hand now and wrapping the tail of my red scarf around your frozen shoulders. As I say these obvious things that you wouldn't notice, absent in favor of the general and out of favor of the particular, you blush, and even your ears turn a little pink.... This will never happen again. A simultaneously born and fading moment. - I get it," Marianne whispered and furtively ran her little finger over the soft fabric of the red scarf. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - There is no future," Shadow said. - There is no past, either. - What do we have? - Marianne asked. - Mine is real," said Shadow. - You're not real. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marianne and Shadow sat in the tree and watched the city until the world began to lighten. Then their time turned into a regular gray morning, and they climbed down from the tree and walked home. On the way they met only people wrapped chillyly in memories of the warmth of their morning sleep, hurrying to work. - Their day is an eight-hour day," said Marianne. - We have twenty-four hours in a day. - It's quite possible that they have something that we don't," Shadow said philosophically. - Trouble? - Marianne suggested. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - There's a pit inside the peach," Marianne said suddenly. The Shadow sighed: - Stop saying "suddenly" and sit down and think. - I think I have so many words in me," Marianne complained. - And if I don't have time to write them, the words that are on the edge just.... Fall out. Suddenly. - Then do something! - groaned The Shadow. - This is terrible! - No," said Marianne. - It would be terrible if the words ran out one day. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One day The Shadow saw Marianne misspell the word "knowledge." - How can you write words if you don't even know how to spell them! - Shadow got angry. - If you don't know, take the sheets first and learn about the word! - Every time I write a word, it's a journey for me," Marianne objected. - I wouldn't be so interested in traveling to places I know very well. - Maybe you should learn how to write words, then. - Shadow grinned. - That way, perhaps, you'd be more interested.... Don't you realize that "to know" and "to be interested" are spelled differently? You and I sit in this room every day. You know this room. Does that make you any less interested in being in this room? - There's a lot I don't know in this room yet. - A lot? - Shadow wondered. - What kind of things? - You. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - One gets used to permanence from childhood, - said Shadow to another of Marianne's admirers. - Either something is left to him for good, and he is afraid of losing it, or everything is taken away from him, and he spends his whole life running away from the desire to keep it. Do you have anything left of your childhood, boy? - Maybe toys? - Marianne suggested. The admirer shook his head. - Picture sheets? - suggested Shadow. The admirer shook his head. - The old house with the cherry trees? - Green squeaky chair? - Is your name on the windowsill? - A recipe for homemade poppy seed buns? - A crystal ball with the smell of mom's perfume inside? - The white stripe on your knee? - There's nothing! - exclaimed the admirer. - Why do you ask such strange questions! What does it matter?! After all, I love Marianne without limits! - 'On the other hand,' said Shadow to Marianne, 'when he throws you out, there will already be an old house with cherry trees, toys, picture sheets, a green creaking chair, a recipe, an empty balloon, and a little boy's name on the windowsill. - I think they're calling you outside to walk alone, - Marianne told the fan. - Who's calling? - The admirer was confused. - I am, - said Shadow and Marianne in a voice. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I need a supervisor, - Marianne said. - Why? - The Shadow wondered. - I don't know, - said Marianne. - But almost everyone has a boss, I want one too. - Take the mitten! - Shadow held out the mitten to her. - Thank you, - Marianne said and put the mitten on her left hand. - It's a beautiful mitten. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One day thieves came to Shadow and Marianne's house. Marianne and Shadow hid behind the door and robbed the thieves while they were looking at Shadow's spokes and Marianne's salt dough. Then the thieves were gone, and Marianne and Shadow watched with interest through the window as they crept toward another house. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - It's a very sad song, - Marianne said when Shadow had finished singing. - What is it about? - It's about two best friends who always look in opposite directions but only see each other. - But it's good, - Marianne didn't understand. - Why is the song sad? Shadow hesitated, lit his pipe, smoked a little, and finally said: - They're stupid. Fighting all the time. - How are we? - Marianne asked. - We're not fighting, - Shadow said. - We hate each other. - What about them? - They don't. - Then that's very stupid of them. - That's what I'm saying. Pass me the scissors, please. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ One day a cat came to Shadow and Marianne, sat on the window sill and looked at them through the window. Marianne and Shadow also looked at it for a while, and then stopped looking. The cat did not go away. - I feel sorry for her, - said Marianne. - From the bottom of my heart. Let her not be behind glass. Shadow looked at Marianne, nodded, and opened the window. The cat jumped and brought the March wind into the room. Then she jumped onto the bed, curled up in a ball, and purred. - How awful, - said Shadow. - Now we have a real home, and I don't want to leave. What have you done? - Why don't we call her Coffee Pot? - Marianne asked. - She's such a nice brown, with black stripes..... Shadow looked at the cat and smiled a very different smile than he usually did. - Well, make it Coffee Pot, - he said. That's how Coffee Pot came into the room. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Hello, - said Marianne's guest. - Hello, hello, hello!..... - Don't sit down, there's a cat in there! - Shadow and Marianne exclaimed for the umpteenth time that day and looked at each other. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - You know how to knit, - said Marianne. - You can also sing, say the right words, play on crystal glasses and make people angry. Why do you need so many? - You can walk, breathe, talk, feel... Why do you need so many? - Shadow asked. - But that's different! - Why is that? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - My friends read what I write on the salt dough triangles, - said Marianne. - You're the only one who doesn't read. - I'm not your friend, - said Shadow. - So what? - Marianne took offense. - I know you, - said Shadow. - What your eyes express, what the movement of your hands means, what your mood is made of. Your friends know you're interesting. To them, triangles are a step toward you. But if I take that step, I won't be at your side, I'll be behind you. Marianne looked at him, crawled out from under the bed, tied his scarf more comfortably, and climbed back in. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I guess I love you, - said Marianne. The Shadow laughed. - What's so funny? - Marianne took offense. - The fact that I seem to love you too, - Shadow said with a laugh. They laughed and went back to their business. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - It seems to me, - said a friend of Marianne's, "that everything in your room revolves around the bed. - There are no absolutes in our room, - objected Shadow. - What? I don't understand. - Well, we don't have a set of things that can be called everything, - Shadow explained. - Unless that's what your friends called you when you were a kid. Marianne only shook her head. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I want to ask you a serious question, - Shadow said. - And don't pretend you can't hear me. Being afraid of serious questions is as silly as being afraid of the dark. After all, darkness is just a natural phenomenon. - I hear you, - Marianne sighed. - Have you ever wanted to spread your tail? - Shadow asked. - Whose? - Marianne wondered. - In front of whom, - Shadow corrected her. Marianne thought for a moment. - Yeah, from time to time. Did you want to? - Yeah. A couple times. They were sadly silent. - It's at times like this that you remember... -...that evolution took away your tail. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - You've changed, - Shadow said. - Today you didn't crawl out from under the bed when your friend came to see you. You didn't open the door for the other five. Are you in pain? - Look what I drew, - said Marianne. The Shadow took the triangle and frowned. - The infinity sign? - It's two fish tied together by their tails. They are tearing in different directions, but they are tied together by their tails, just one point, tightly and firmly. And they are so eager to go in their own direction that they have no strength to look back and see what is preventing them from moving. So they will have to stand still all their lives. - So? - Shadow asked. - Someone has to give in, - Marianne said. - Either a fish reaching for the light or a fish reaching for the dark, - Shadow was silent. - What do you think? - It looks more like a cuttlefish to me, - Shadow said gravely. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - When someone you love dies, you see everyone else a little dead too, - Marianne said. - Why? - Marianne's friend asked. - Because you're dying a little bit yourself, - Shadow answered. - And the dead don't believe in life. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - What's that song of yours about? - Marianne asked. - It is about the end of all things and the beginning of other things, - said Shadow. - It will happen in the year that is written in numbers. - But any year can be written in numbers! - Marianne remarked. - The words of that song sounded suspicious to me, too, - Shadow muttered. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - Now let's play a game! - said Marianne's friend. - Everyone stand in a circle and take the hand of the person you like best in this room. All the friends rushed to grab Marianne's hand, and Marianne got scared and hid behind Shadow. - Well, - Shadow sighed, squeezing Marianne's hand. - The game worked. The circle situation is a little bit more difficult. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - If I left and there was nothing you could do, would you be sad? - There's always something you can do. Marianne was silent for a moment. - Not always, - she said. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - That's the song I used to listen to when I was a little girl! - Marianne exclaimed. - It's a very silly song, - Shadow said. - I learned it by accident. - I was sitting on a window seat and they put her on the radio, - Marianne said. - No lyrics, no melody, - Shadow shook his head. - The shadows were laying on the house next door, and the sun was setting, and I was in so much pain in my chest that I thought my heart was going to burst, - Marianne said. - They learn three chords and write whatever comes into their heads, - Shadow grumbled. - And wished this moment would never end... - Marianne shuddered. - Oh, this must be so silly. - Not at all, - said The Shadow. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - That's it, - Marianne said. - That's it, - said Shadow. - Fate is letting us go, - Marianne said. - I can feel it. It's time to split up. - Thanks for the tea, - said Shadow, putting on his hat. - We had a good time, even though I'm human and you're not. - I don't know what to say. - There's no need. We've already split up, - Shadow said and walked out. Marianne stood staring at the door. Shadow stepped back in. - I forgot my hat, - he said. - You're wearing a hat, - Marianne remarked. - I'll forget it, then, - said Shadow. They were silent for a moment. - Tea? - Marianne smiled. - Thank you, that would be appropriate. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was raining. Marianne, Shadow and Coffee Pot were sitting on the windowsill and looking out the window.