Interlude 2: Counting 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

I vehemently hate summer. And I have hated summer with a passion equal to obsession ever since I was a kid. And this year's summer season was not different from the last. All I had was unpleasant memories of it. Well, if you could qualify colourless as unpleasant, there you have it. I probably had the most dull of childhood, like a colouring book whose lines had faded because of age.

It was the start of summer vacation for most students. But time sure has its odd manner of manifesting its power on helpless mortals such as me. Because for me, an exhausted college student, it's the start of another boring term. And a thesis to write was looming over the horizon. I didn't have to fret over it since I see myself as a capable person. But I could see myself slowing down when no one was giving me the push I needed.

No one was giving me a push forward. No one. And I needed all the push I could get.

I locked the door of my apartment. The rusty corners of the door left something to be desired of that equally pale place. The complex was not bad, mind you. The dull quality I attached to that place had something to do mainly with my own disposition. In all actuality, I was lucky enough to have found it when I stepped foot at Madeira. It was a busy city with a lot of things happening. Like a kaleidoscope in its beauty and chaos.

I remembered the first morning I woke up here. I could already smell the salty air. Madeira was a city that cradled a port town. That meant a lot of internal movement like the insides of an intestine. The simile might be a little bit unaesthetic but at least, in my mind, I was able to capture the essence of that one place that had become a part of me. But now, I couldn't smell the saline quality in the air. I suspected that it's because I already got used to it. I felt like if I was to smell it again, nostalgia, like the first heavy downpour upon a thirsty desert, would wash over me.

Before I stepped away from my flat, I looked over at myself. I was wearing a rather attractive hybrid of a long dress and a polo; whatever it's called went over my head because I was not that good with details. Then I continued walking. My footsteps were loud.

I planned to have a talk with Matt about our thesis paper. And he had proposed days prior that we should do it over at his house. Which I completely agreed to; why? I could not remember. I just noticed that with him, I readily accepted everything. Without a struggle. Without an iota of doubt. It was about half an hour's travel by train. Given the fact that trains operate according to schedule, it's the easiest way to get there. He had already given me a map to his house--and it was adroitly done,too, mind you--so I'd be fine as long as I didn't needlessly interact with people, and strangers at that.

I tend to step back when there are strangers. One step. Two steps. Until the coldness in my chest subsided.

I slowly walked into the scorching blaze of the summer sun. The streets here, though convoluted at first, took less time for me to memorise than I initially imagined. But looking at it now, I couldn't help but think of that one scene from Serial Experiments Lain in which everything was either distorted by heat waves or in complete blackness. The monotony made this canvas called the world foreboding.

I carried on.

If I recall correctly, Matt had told me rather proudly that his little sister was in middle school; unconsciously, he let slip the pride over his usually flat tone. There was a high chance that I'd get to meet her today. 'Brat's anti-social, though,' I remembered him saying. Well, if I'd thought that that girl took from her brother instead of her parents, it made sense why she'd be like that. I laughed.

A crack appeared on that canvas.

I tried to reconstruct a mental image of her little sister based on how I deconstructed Matt's looks. Her eyes might be fierce with a cold edge to it. The complexion might be white with a dash of red, not from a blush but from being out in the sun. A sarcastic one who might wield a spatula upon her brother. No! That one didn't fit in with the image I have with him. He was the most proficient--and efficient--person I knew so it would be odd if his little sister would chastise him over something trivial.

Well, I already had a mental image of what she'd look like. But the word little in little sister stuck annoyingly with me so much that I couldn't conjure a mental image of her being taller than an average sixth grader.

The train station was somewhat peacefully deserted. It had to be like that taking into account that it's neither the rush hour nor a typical school day. I hesitantly secured my floppy hat in place lest it'd be blown away in an instant; but the perfect fit it provided sort of lessened the wariness I was feeling.

The online map indicated that it was a good 30 minutes away from here. I'd like to wager it'd be a couple of minutes longer. It's not that I was always conscious of time itself; if I'd arrive 10 minutes later than expected, I would still have considerably enough time to wander about. Or not. That would be an extra bother. Especially in this heat.

I extracted a pocketbook out of my tote bag and looked at its cover. White Wolf's Journey. This was not the same book I had absentmindedly borrowed from the library. I bought it myself when I had gotten my last paycheck. Probably the first book that I bought in a while. I felt a sense of order.

I looked at the train track and saw grass growing amongst the pebbles. Not the most suitable place to lay your roots but I guess that was just how things are. I could feel my roots digging deeper into the ground on which I stood. The summer heat was radiating from the ground. My neck could feel it.

I hate summer.

Vehemently.

My train arrived at last. And on time. At least I was going to have a decent amount of AC to savour.

When I got in the carriage, I saw that it was almost equally deserted except for that one man in the corner sleeping. I didn't want anything to do with him or anyone else so I sat on the seat opposite to the side where the sun rays blazed, far from any living being I reckoned sentient. Ten o'clock in the morning would be terrible for my skin, too.

I came back to my book. Thirty minutes was a hefty time to get some reading done. I opened it but went past the introduction and preface part since I had already read it. I remembered not having the energy to get some reading done before. I just lay in my bed while trying to empty my mind.

Before I got caught up by looking at the shadow made by the window and the power poles outside, I dove without a second into the novel.

'The white wolf was woken up by the sun's rays that were deprived of heat. Everything was cold. And it became colder when he realised that he was alone. It might have been better if it was a dream, but it was not. As if to prove this, bones from their last kill were scattered about. Bitemarks were visible. Some still had a piece of meat on. It was deer meat; his sense of smell would not betray him.

'But his pack did.

'Whatever happened to the bond that they had forged with one another was finally blown by the storm winds. All that was left was the bony fingers of the taiga biomes to scrape at the remains.

'He warily stood up; strength hadn't gathered up his legs yet. Neither did the resolve in his heart. Whatever was left of that desolation was the hurt that he himself could not place.'

"Guess, it really is like that," I softly whispered like I was talking to someone when in fact, there was no one there aside from that sleeping man in the far corner. I had always been a careful one. I preferred to whisper things.

I took a peek at the view outside. All I could see were the trees and house that seemed to complement each other rather than be a complete contrast. It was probably due to the fact that they blended into a blur; the golden sunshine managed to soften the outlines of both the trees and the houses. The towers far beyond slowly crept to hide from my fields of vision.

Madeira was somewhat of a magical place. The sparkle of the ocean beyond was balanced by the moss on the wall that always led to the station I had come from. It was reminiscent of the bleak isolation of the worlds of authors like Haruki Murakami. 'I just hoped that no fish would fall from the sky.' I silently giggled.

Before I knew it, I got lost in the rhythmic rumbling underneath me. This town prided itself on the most efficient railway systems ever. I just thought about that because the muffled rumbling underneath gave the whole train experience here a rather surreal quality. It was a noise that violently tingled my guts, not the ears as it was supposed to. I let it carry me to the cities beneath the oceans.

I saw everything engulfed by an overwhelming amount of seawater, eventually extinguishing the sunlight above. Now, all that I saw was an infinite and cold expanse of dark blue. My foot frantically searched for some sort of footing so as to feel established but found none. But surprisingly, no panic crept up to my throat. I felt a clinical detachment from it all. The cold water seemed to be pulling me down. Whatever was left of my lungs was for the sea to feast in. In fact, I wouldn't even mind if my life decidedly ended like this.

I felt like the wolf in the novel. Being bereft of all things made it easier to accept defeat from a war I never fought in, to begin with.

'I'm such a failure.'

And then I woke up. I didn't realise that I had fallen asleep. The almost mechanical voice overhead told me that I reached my station. I collected my things and stepped out of the car to the platform adjacent to it. I felt the temperature rise up like crazy before it dropped a little. It was probably because of the wind. But I welcomed it nonetheless.

***

After some struggle, I finally reached the residential area. There were considerably more trees in this place than on my side of town. I found myself liking the ambiance here.

I fished out my smartphone from the tote bag and referred to Google Maps for directions. It said that I was just a few corners away from my destination. And according to the guy himself, it's one of the easiest to locate in this jungle of houses and trees.

I made a move on. Once I saw a rather winding staircase lined up with more trees, I was practically at my destination, which proved to be easier to find. And it was indeed winding. I calculated that it was two to three stories high with two landings. I looked around for an alternative but the rising pathway to the right did not give me any answers either.

'Good thing I'm wearing flats.' Well, I was never fully given to wearing extravagant shoes to begin with. So, I saved myself from the extra burden of being a woman.

I took the flight of stairs to the top. Halfway through I was mildly panting from the needless exertion of energy. Good thing there was a landing here. I carried on.

When finally I stepped out of the staircase, I was assaulted by the unrelenting sun again. I needed to breathe, too.

'Guess who's needing exercise?' I could hardly believe how far my stamina was taking me.

"Looks like you won't be needing any guidance after all," a voice cut into the white noise of the cicada overhead. I didn't realize that they were there in the first place. But what surprised me the most was the one who spoke. I looked at the origin of the voice and saw Matt. "Oh, fancy seeing you here."

"I fetched you lest you'd lose your way."

"Why, thank you," I meant it. " You should have gone all the way and fetched me at the apartment." I didn't mean that.

"Mum took the car to work so that's not possible." He really did have that side of him that could not detect an iota of sarcasm when I needed him to detect one. But that's just him. I could not change that. This Matt.

It turned out that what he had said about the staircase being an indicator of the location of his house was surprisingly accurate. Here we were in his house. In no time. It didn't look conspicuous or anything. It looked the same as the houses around it from the outside looking in. Not that I was expecting anything spectacular.

But what pleasantly surprised me was how big his house was compared to how small the family living there was. That kind of reminded me of a dollhouse.

"Is his sister there?"

I wasn't exactly overly curious about it; it's just that I just wanted to confirm if the mental image I had about her was accurate. It felt like an itch under my throat.

It was Matt who led the way.

When we got inside, out of habit I uttered "thanks for having me." to myself. The first thing I could not help but notice was despite the heat outside, it was kind of cool and comfy inside. The tingly sensation mingled with the soft beads of sweat that had without any warning form on my nape.

And there was the faint scent of citrus in the air. 'Lemon scent probably,' I absentmindedly thought.

I automatically took off my flats and accordingly followed Matt to where he was going. I presumed that he was heading to the living room. I wasn't exactly sure if that's the effect of air conditioning but the way the chill flirted with my senses was rather tempting. Like a saucer of chocolate cake.

When we were about to enter what presumably was the living room, a rather tall and skinny girl with glasses walked out of it. She was wearing a rather baggy black t-shirt and shorts. Her hair, though short, looked like some sort of cute jellyfish living on her head. The jet-black hair gave me the impression that she was well taken care of. This was funny in retrospect because she looked like she's scared of a hairdresser.

'It was probably the shampoo.'

And although she was kind of tall, she looked so frail. A kind of girl I wanted to take care of. Would she approve if I proposed to take care of her as her big sister? And what a shame half of her face was covered by her hair.

She looked initially excited--by her brother?--until she saw me. That wiped the emotion off her. I noticed that she was holding an ice cream bar, too. A pink one. Presumably, a strawberry-flavoured one. I tried wiping the flavour off my tongue.

"Thea, this is Reika, the one I've been telling you about." His voice was characteristically cold. He didn't bother changing its tone.

"Hello, Thea." I greeted her first. Of course, I wanted to make a good first impression on her. That would be the start of something good. Then, something dawned on me. He's been telling weird things about me to his sister? What could they be talking about? I wanted to know so bad now. I hated being confronted by an insatiable curiosity. It burned in my chest and I wanted to let it all burst into a series of questions. 'Like, what the fuck?'

But before I could ask him about it, she suddenly ran upstairs. In her wake were drops of melted ice cream. When I looked back at Matt, he was just looking upstairs.

"Don't let it get to you."

***

Their living room looked like a standard one, much to my surprise: the typical appliances were provided, it's also well-lit and just like the hallway that led to it, smelled faintly of citrus. The sliding door that led to the garden was closed to prevent air conditioning from escaping but the curtains were drawn to let natural light in.

I reluctantly occupied a bean bag while he sat across from the wooden mahogany table, looking all comfy and careless, cross-legged on the carpeted floor. It was warm in a pleasant way when I occupied it, suggesting that it had been used even before I arrived. And based on the depression on it, I could presume that it was the little girl who had sat on it.

But what if the warmth was not hers?

"Eck!" I let a noise escape my mouth. Like, seriously?

"Hmmm…?"

"N-nothing!" I squeaked.

Fuck!

Once I internally recovered, I focused my eyes on the direction of the second floor.

I wondered how she was right now. My line of sight inevitably included the door that led to the hallway; I was honestly expecting a pair of eyeglasses to take a peek at me out of curiosity. But all I saw was the wall that was made grey by the dimness of the corridor. I was disappointed.

A pile of clipped papers and two laptops whose static was pronounced in the corner of my eyes occupied the table. On a smaller separate table lay a tray of cakes and two glasses of cold barley tea; its cold precipitation built upon the glass. Matt might be quiet but his actions spoke of warmth and hospitality.

I looked at him.

He wore his reading glasses rather sloppily and looked at the papers I had brought for the occasions. We had both enrolled in a research class early on so we wouldn't have to think about it in the long run. If he greatly valued efficiency and effectiveness, I valued not wasting time. I think that's a great combination. 'Yeah, it sure is.'

I was looking intently at him when I noticed how much his little sister looked like him. I was not about to think about her more than I should but … 'It's like he's her dad. Crazy!'

And she's pretty too. She was the perfect contrast between black and white--jet-black hair and pale white skin. Well, with someone as good-looking as this asshole in front of me, it would be an injustice if his sister wouldn't be as attractive as him. 'Wait, wha--'

I felt my face grow warm. I violently shook my head to dispel it only for it to shake what was within me.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked, it must've alerted him. He was looking at me the way a jeweler would a client after he had appraised a piece of a gem of its genuineness. But that's not the time to do that! I must conceal.

"Ah, n-nothing." I learned from a book somewhere that if you want to digress the topic, you just have to introduce a new one. The paper in his hand was a good place to start. "So, what do you think?"

He seemed quick to presume I was talking about the files. He removed his glasses and looked at me. He had this cold quality upon his stare. And the skin… I had wondered before if he ever played sports; he had pale white skin that most of my classmates and colleagues envied. Sometimes, I wished I could touch...

He had told me some time ago that he did Judo and basketball. Yeah, I remembered that he did! 'I had to use my height for something, right? There you go,' I remembered him saying. Which was honestly a dumb way to put it.

'Adorable.'

His tenor voice sounded emotionless at times.

"We'll have a problem with your proposed subject. Supposed that your control and focus group came from a homogenous group, it would be easy to test it with your proposed methodology. But have you forgotten that four years ago, the population of Garnacha became mixed with two tribal groups of Pinot Noir descent? I wouldn't be this opposed if it happened decades ago since the acculturation would have provided us with interesting results…"

"But we are after how the residents of Garnacha would react to commerce introduced by such immigration right? Maybe we can do something about it." Could you imagine the effort I had to muster to focus?

"Yeah but four years might be too short in some context but in this… the time the two cultures need to amalgamate in the situation between Garnacha and Pinot Noir is less than that. However, it still leaves a lot to look into since you'd still find distinguishable differences in the two cultures…"

I felt a strange warmth in me as I looked at him. Like something comforting and reassuring. It reminded me of the fireplace we had in my parents' place.I didn't notice but it was my own heartbeat I was hearing now and not his voice. When I noticed that, panic crept over me. He was in the middle of explaining the nooks and crannies of my proposal and it would be rude if I'd just get lost in my thoughts just like that, wouldn't it?

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

Now, I just have to lie, right? "Yeah, no. There isn't. I'm just thinking about what I've missed when I was writing that," I lied; I hope it worked. Really now.

"Well, while you're at it, I already highlighted parts that need revising. And I'd probably visit the place one of these days. You'd come with me, right?"

A trip with just the two of us? I did a double-take. 'This is too convenient!' On the one hand, being a co-author of that paper required me to go with him; on the other hand, the thought of traveling with him was kind of exhilarating. I felt like it was some kind of a catch-22 case that I would be willing to be caught in.

Then I felt my face warm up again.

"Reika, are you okay?" He looked concerned. It would be a miracle if you see this part of him. I considered myself lucky. And I felt my face heated up more. 'I can't stand this!'

I needed to keep myself in check. I stood up. Letting my knees take on the full weight of my body proved harder when you are in unfamiliar territory. "I need to use the restroom." The only temporary escape I thought of.

"Oh, just go straight down that hall--" he pointed in the direction--" and the last door you'll see is what you're looking for."

I immediately excused myself and made my way to the restroom. But the moment I stepped out of the living room, I saw that adorably fluffy creature Matt called little sister again. 'Is she spying on us? Little girl, I won't take your brother away from you.' She looked so petrified when I laid my eyes on her. It took her a moment to process her shock; once she did that, she covered her head as though the sky might fall and ran back upstairs which I'd presume was her origin. She was red all over. Like an apple. It was more obvious because of her complexion. She had her brother's color but even paler.

"Any problem?" I heard Matt calling from the door.

I looked at him and smiled. "Oh, nothing. I just saw an interesting thing."

He looked at me then upstairs as though he could see what was going on in there. "Please, do your business quickly." He looked at me.

I sneered, completely forgetting that I had felt oddly hot earlier. "Oh, sure."

****

It was already late in the afternoon when we both finished with our little deliberation. The sky was a deep red when I looked outside. Not that I mind. Time is but a temporal thing. We both decided to visit the place of our research. It's kind of far from Madeira and I assumed we would take a few days there.

His mother arrived at some point and entertained him. I might be overthinking it but I felt like she intentionally sent her son to run some errand. 'I am, right? I am just overthinking things, right?'

I hate this.

"Matt said that you are alone in your apartment," she said, all sprawled on the sofa. She had no reservations even though there was a visitor in their house. But I found it absolutely adorable. She was all smiles, a temperament that is completely opposite of Matt and his sister. I wondered where they got their disposition but I decided against asking about it. She had apple-cut hair that was tinted with an almond colour on the tips. Her daughter had her skin colour but an aura like no other in this household. Like those black and white pictures with its focus being the only one in colour. But she is absolutely stunning.

No wonder her children were like that, too.

While Matt was out there somewhere, I felt like she took the chance to talk with me.

"So, where did you meet?"

"At school. It's been two years since. Your son is quite the character…"

"Well, I cannot deny that. He is either an outcast or a central figure; you just cannot place him in between."

She had a general idea of how Matt really was and I could totally see that. He was in a sense, either a 1 or a 9, never a 5 or 6. He garnered a lot of admirers and haters in just college alone. Would you believe that? He was not really a bad guy; he was just too honest with everything and wouldn't mind hurting everyone as long as he deemed it the most logical thing to do. I, on the other hand, could not begin to fathom how he was able to pull that off. We were the opposite of each other. Polar opposite, that is.

I smiled at the fair lady before me, because that was all I was able to do--to hide behind a smile to smooth every social interaction I went through. This was not different.

The only time I wasn't able to do that was when I was with Matt. I was not sure why myself. Probably because he was not the type of person to smooth things over. I remembered the first time I had met him; I'd given him the same smile I was using right now--no different--but he just brushed me off with a sneer and asked me, straight to my face, why my answer in one of our Literature professor was off, and he briefly explained how our former professor was slightly wrong with his theories.

I hated losing. I hated people who directly questioned me or my intellect. I hated him. But I was not able to take him out of my mind since then.

The truth is I had known him since high school. But we weren't that close back then. He was this shining figure who was loved by the girls, hated by the boys, loved and hated by the smart kids, and adored by the intellectually inferior. He was indeed a 1 or a 9 in my spectrum. A curse spectrum.

I belonged to the top students way back in high school. I would walk the same pathway as he was without us both minding our separate business. We were both cold winds repelling each other. 'But who is the colder one anyway?'

Only in college did our paths converge.

I hated him. So you are probably wondering why I was in his house, deliberating a potential research topic and talking with her mum. To be honest, one thing led to another, and here we were. I could not remember some details but does it really matter at this point? I know it didn't. All I knew was I was here. I was here.

The lady looked at me dead in the eyes as though she was looking into my soul. I couldn't sense any malice in her or anything negative but my neck started to feel warm. It's kinda moist. I didn't like being stared at like that, especially with someone who looked at people the way I did.

"You know what, I read this rather funny book about this stupid girl who was asked how fast it is before someone falls in love with another person."

I remained quiet, silently anticipating her cordial continuation.

"Five seconds, my dear. Five seconds," she remarked.

That caught me off guard. I was about to ask 'why?' but quickly chose to mouth. She had the same manner of staring at people as I have. "What story is that by the way?"

Then she smiled. It was different from the one that she had earlier. It was somewhat conspiratorial. Somewhat knowing. I could not put it into words but it felt like she knew something that I didn't. Could she see into another dimension? Was she even human? What made it kind of uncomfortable as it seemed to involve me.

I wanted to ask what was going on but she cut me off with some "hey, would you care to join us for dinner?" and noticed that her smile reverted to the one she had before. I strongly felt like she purposely had cut me off. I was kind of intimidated by her, and I didn't know why. She felt like the uncanny valley type of spook. I couldn't place it. It's like an image blurred by a dream. But there was also a side to her that I personally liked.

Weird family, I must say. They all seemed to have their own idiosyncrasies but one cannot deny that they were all good people.

"I'm really sorry but I promised my landlord that I'd be home before night so…" that was a lie. "... I wanted to stay over though and meet everyone." That wasn't.

"Oh. Too bad." Then she looked in the direction of the front door as if she was anticipating something. "Matty's back." She stood up and looked back at me. "Too bad you can't stay for dinner. I'm sure my Thea would love to get to know you."

While I didn't have any intentions of making friends with a child, I wasn't that too opposed to the idea. She was still a part of Matt and it might give me some sort of leverage in the future.

Leverage? 'What the actual fu--'

I heard a second voice within me asking me what that meant but I was too scared to answer. The feeling of being exposed was overpowering. 'Being exposed to what?' I didn't know. But before I could venture into the dark part of my brain, I heard Matt speak up.

"You're going to help me cook dinner."

And another voice mingled with it. "B-b-but!!!" It was a distressing alto voice.

Guess they were having some quality family time.

***

It's time for me to head on out of there and be home before dark. The sky was a deep orange and the temperature suddenly rose up like it was forcing me to go back inside. I already forgot how humid it was outside. It reminded me of half of the reason why I hated summer.

"Thank you for having me," I said. We stood under the veranda leading to the front gate. They were all there to see me off. This kind of warmth; I missed it.

"I hope you can join us for dinner the next time you come over," Matt's mum said.

"I'll definitely do that next time. Well, see you next time. Bye Matt. Bye Thea."

The young girl seemed stunned while she was looking down as though she was avoiding my gaze. Her meddling brother had pulled her along with him to say goodbye to me. 'Seriously, leave the girl alone.' I could feel her pain. Poor girl.

Then I gave them one last look and to my surprise, they all fitted my field of vision. One happy family. A smiling mother, a shy little sister, and a dominating older brother. There was this emptiness inside that seemed cold to the touch.

Matt patted his sister's head and said 'guess you'll have to get used to Reika being around here." And there was a sliver of warmth in that. That made me not want to go home yet. "Crap…"

Once again I felt something within me. It was something warm that replaced the frigidity I had felt a while ago.

I said my goodbye once again and made my way out of there. I did so to save some face.

"What am I running away from? I don't get it."

Then that reminded me of what Mama Stainthorpe had told me earlier: 'I read this rather funny book about this stupid girl who was asked how fast it is before someone falls in love with another person.'

I stopped and looked at my right hand. It was reddish. So was the sky. So was everything else.

Then something inside me started counting. "Oh, ga--"

5

I knew it! I shouldn't have come here.

4

'Yeah, like you're really regretting exerting extra energy to be here.' A second voice went on saying. Whose voice is that anyway? 'Why are you running away? I wouldn't hurt you. Matt wouldn't do that. And you know it'

'Oh, shut your traps.' The cake earlier was tasty, not gonna lie. I wondered where Matt had bought it.

3

Then, I realised whose voice it was.

"Fuck!" I whispered but its utterance was devoid of any negative feelings. It's just an exclamation. Yeah, it really was.

2

The voice was mine.

Althea's Diary Entry

I slowly made my way downstairs and tried to take a peek into the living room. She was still there. That girl with short hair and a teacher-like smile. I don't like her a bit.

I felt like she was there to steal my brother.

'I won't let you have him. I swear.'