Chapter 2: For a second by your side, my beloved (part 5)

Some trees across the street, the water separating the two ends of the city, with bridges for cars visible from our position, one near us and another far away.

A black car of a square style passes by us, almost at the same time as another red one, a more modern model of an aerodynamic type.

—Which way?.— I ask.

—To the sky!.— Henrietta stands on tiptoe, closing her eyes, as if she's about to fly off at any moment.

—Hahah... but the industrial area is also an option.— She adds with a laugh.

—Haha, let's go there, then.— I say.

—Do you just need silence?.— I ask.

Thinking about it, subtlety wouldn't fit as the name of everything we do with Henrietta since we arrived here.

—Yes, just that.— She replies, hugging my arm to emphasize her request.

***

—...What is this?.— I ask.

—Isn't it lovely?.— Henrietta asks with a smile, I know she's being sarcastic.

—Lovely… it's quiet.. Is it really here?.— I ask.

To the north of the city lies the factory zone and large buildings not intended for housing.

Asking for directions, we arrive at one of the farthest parts. We're in front of a large warehouse with a curved roof, but it has a gate with metal bars closed with a chain and a padlock, the rest are walls painted white.

—We can enter thanks to this container.— Henrietta says, taking my hand towards a garbage container that is closed and leaning against the wall.

—There's nothing to worry about, it's been uninhabited for a long time, there are no dogs either.— Henrietta adds, climbing onto the container and extending her hand for me to join her.

—Our apartment was better.— I say.

—Definitely.— She agrees, smiling.

I climb up with her, and we pass to the other side of the property.

It's been several blocks since the silence became significant, like an entire abandoned area.

The interior is a small courtyard where grass and some bushes have grown, there's scrap on the ground, loose pieces of cars and machines.

The warehouse has two doors, one very large, presumably for vehicles, and another smaller one for people.

—Do you know how we're going to get in?.— I ask.

—Yes, haha, wait here.— She replies with a smile, leading me a few meters away from the large door...not before kissing my hand..

—This kind of door has a latch at the end.— She adds.

—!!!!!!!!—

—...…— Henrietta hits the side and center of the large metal door… and as if it were paper, it has dented. She only did it with her right fist and nothing more… a blow like that could kill a person if it can damage iron in that way…

—Done.— Henrietta says smiling and sliding the door to the side, it's a sliding door.

She quickly runs towards me, hugging me, rubbing her face against me and taking my hand..

—Is your hand okay, right?.— I ask.

—Look.— Henrietta raises her hand smiling... There's not even a small mark.

—I'm glad you're kay, then.— I say.

To be honest, I don't know what her real capabilities are, she gives the impression not to want to talk about it, so I don't ask..

—You're surprised, aren't you?.— Henrietta asks as we enter the large warehouse.

She slides the door... and hits it again with her hand so that the metal bends and doesn't allow it to slide.

—Obviously, but how will we get out now?, will you hit it every time we want to leave?.— I ask.

—Hahah, no, there's probably a spare key inside for the smaller door, it usually happens.— She replies, smiling.

The warehouse is quite spacious inside, I thought the roof would be made of sheet metal, as it looked from the outside, but it's made of concrete, with steel beams with chains hanging from them, and some lamps turned off.

There's nothing outstanding, it's empty, except for the large white columns that are everywhere symmetrically and what seems to be a spare parts room or office at the end of the place.

The upper part of the walls is covered by a large window that surrounds the entire building, some glasses are broken, but very few. The light comes in and makes everything visible.

—And now?.— I ask as we walk through the place.

—Touch me.— Henrietta says.

I gently touch her cheek.

—Soft, warm, pale.— I say.

—But you're surprised that I'm so strong, right?.— She asks, smiling.

—Yes, even if you're tall it doesn't fit with your appearance or the softness of your skin.— I reply.

Henrietta looks around, looking for something.

—Come.— She says, guiding me by the hand.

She bends down to pick up a somewhat rusty metal bar... and hands it to me.

—How is it?.— She asks.

—Cold, very heavy.— I reply.

Although I have the strength of someone my age, I'm surprised how she could lift it so easily, and it's hard for me to hold it with just one hand.

—Hit it against the column, my Razar.— She tells me smiling.

It's hard because of its weight, but I hit it against the large white column that goes up to the ceiling and the steel beams.

The bar is solid, no doubt.

Henrietta takes it from my hand, realizing that I'm already having trouble holding it for so long.

—It will only take a moment.— She says, raising our joined hands, in reference to letting go of me.

Henrietta steps back about two meters, her movements always looking so cheerful.

…..And as if it were just plastic, she bends the metal bar without changing her expression of happiness or making any visible effort... Then she lets it fall to the ground, its evident weight making a significant noise..

—As I said, I'm a biological mutation. After so long, my body had to adapt, or I would have died.— Henrietta returns to my side, shaking her hands, and hugging me again..

—Let's see if we can find a key.— She adds smiling, heading to the room at the end.

I would like to ask, but what if her memories are horrible?.

—Even though my body is much more resilient than a human's... it's very connected to my emotions... my feelings. The more extreme they are, the more physical damage I can do.—

—And I know what you're thinking, Razar, no, I'm not an experiment, quite the opposite, I was the one experimenting with something else.— She adds smiling.

Again, I prefer not to ask... I could hurt her.

—In theory, these places still have electricity despite being closed.— Henrietta says, entering the room. There isn't much light because it only has a small window and a door that was already open.

—Be careful.— I say, walking behind her. She must be looking for a main switch.

...A metallic sound is heard like a lever, and the lights throughout the place turn on.

—Instead of turning them off one by one, they just lowered the main switch.— Henrietta says.

Now I see her face clearly inside the room.

It's an office, some furniture with files, a desk, and a couch. All covered in dust, it's been at least a year or two since anyone passed through here.

—How considerate!.— Henrietta says, walking to the couch.

They've covered it with a transparent plastic to prevent it from getting dirty.

—Help me, Razar.—

—Sure.— I say, taking the plastic from one end and we take it out of the room.

—With the blanket in your backpack, you have where to sleep.— Henrietta says smiling.

We return to the room, and Henrietta heads to the desk, opening the drawers probably looking for the key.

—Isn't it there?.— I ask, reading her expressions.

—Nop.— She replies.

—Maybe behind the door.— I say.

I close the door and we find a wooden board with some keys.

Henrietta smiles when she sees it, and I read the labels on the keychains.

—"Oot door"— I read aloud, I think they tried to write "out"...

—It must be this one. It's not a padlock key like the one that locks the outer gate, and the big doors of the warehouse don't have locks.— I say.

—We'll try it later.— Henrietta says, smiling.

—We'll take out some things... some boxes and we'll go to the library, kay?.— She adds.

—Do you need information about the current era?.— I ask.

I put the key in my pocket, and we both start taking out some cardboard boxes containing documents, papers, and other office equipment to make space and move more comfortably.

—Yes, from this era and a few decades ago.— She replies.

Everything we take out, we leave outside the room, taking it to the back wall.

—Precisely about the Voyager project.— She says.

—The probes... are a bit old but still working.— I say.

—Thank Lord.— Henrietta says.

—I'm sure that...— Henrietta adds, looking at the floor carefully.

—..There's an illegal drain under this warehouse. It must have belonged to some nearby factory. I can hear the echo of our footsteps.— She continues.

—Really?.— I ask rhetorically, looking at the floor and trying to listen, but I can't.

—It's very spacious..— Henrietta says thoughtfully.

—Anyway, that's enough, Razar.— She smiles upon returning to the room and being convinced that we have enough space.

—We'll be back before dark.— She adds.

Her smile with her braces is so warm..

—Sure..— I say..

***

—It's the right key!.— Henrietta says, as I turn the key, pushing to open the outer door, it was a bit stuck due to the passage of time

After rearranging some old and rusty vehicle parts, we pass the wall back onto the street.

—A pickup truck is approaching.— Henrietta says.

I can't hear or see it, so I observe her expression, she's calm and cheerful, it must not be anything bad.

—Left or right?.— Henrietta asks to know which street we'll take.

—Right of course.— I say, taking a look at the abandoned place.

—That way we will be picked up.— She says with a smile.

—Do you mean the truck?.—

—Yes, we'll get there faster that way, do you agree?.— She asks.

—Yeah… Can you see the future, Henrietta?.—

—Hahah, I have a good ear. The vehicle is heading in this direction, it must be someone looking for scrap to sell. They'll know the place and will take us to the library.— She responds smiling.

Although she didn't answer me directly, she didn't affirm it, but she didn't deny it either.

—You speak in code too, Henrietta.— I say with a smile.

—It's so only you can understand me, Razar.— She says smiling, showing her gray braces.

—Here it comes.— She adds, without turning around.

I can hear a vehicle accelerating behind us, just in case I turn around, and it's an old pickup truck with slightly faded paint.

—What are a couple doing walking around this area?, it's not a place for a date, young boy.— Says an older man with a mustache and a dull beret.

Henrietta smiles, looking at me, hugging my arm as she often does when she hears something like that.

—We were exploring the area, we're on our way to the library.— I say.

—Ahh, it's a bit far... but I can take you part of the way.— Says the man, looking ahead as if he were making a mental map in his head.

—I have space in the back, get in.— He adds.

—Thank you.— I say.

—Don't mention it.— He concludes.

The back of the truck is not covered and is independent of the passenger seats, it only has some wooden planks on the sides... Just as Henrietta said, there's some scrap stored.

—How suspicious.— I say, opening the back door and offering my hand for Henrietta to climb in.

—It was just a guess.— Henrietta says with a smile.

I close the door and tap the roof covering the passenger seats to indicate that we're ready. The man accelerates, and we quickly move away.

The wind moves Henrietta's short hair that rests on her shoulders with a curve pointing toward her face and neck. She's just a girl, to some, a child.

—Did you fall in love?.— Henrietta asks, noticing that I was observing her.

I don't say anything, I smile slightly caressing her head.

I look into the distance, there are some taller buildings surrounding the warehouse where we were.

I feel the wind and try not to think too much.

Henrietta just leans her head on me. It's hard for her to let go, most of the time, she holds my hand or my clothes.

I would like to ask, I really would like to ask... but what if I hurt her?.

—If you keep looking so sad, I'll have no choice but to kiss you, Razar.—

—Hahah, so sweet you are.— I say, laughing softly.

The scenery changes, the desolation and emptiness of the industrial zone is left behind, now there are more residential buildings.

—It used to be a place full of work.— Says the man. There's a small window behind his seat, and I can hear him.

—But that's how it is, everything changes.— He adds.

Perhaps he used to work here. I don't say anything, he wasn't expecting a dialogue. It's more like he's sharing a thought with someone.

The pickup truck stops after a few minutes, and we get off near a square.

—Here's where we part ways, boy.— Says the man.

I close the back door, walking to the driver's side on the sidewalk.

—See that clock in the tower?, that's the library. It's open until the afternoon, so you have time.— He adds, pointing at an analog clock, which looks ancient, a couple of blocks ahead of us.

—Thanks for the ride.— I say.

—Don't mention it, hahah!.— Says the man enthusiastically.

—But... take care of this girl... A thousand kilometers away I could see you and say that you mean a lot to her.—

—....— I'm supposed to be a gentleman, but I hurt more than I should... I don't even know who Henrietta is.

She just hugs me with her usual smile..

The man drives away, and we continue walking towards the clock.

Henrietta looks around, there are more people and cars, mostly leaving work around this time.

—I don't like crowded places.— Henrietta says.

—When I was a child, I spent my time reading books and playing the piano.— She adds.

—Ha, to be honest, me neither.—

—They know the Earth isn't the center of the universe, and they still believe that everything revolves around them.— Henrietta says.

—Do you hate humans that much?.— I ask.

—Don't you?.— She looks at me seriously.

—I'm not saying I don't, I just had the doubt.— I reply.

***

—Good afternoon, do you have computers for public use?.— I ask upon entering the library.

Dark wooden furniture, dim lighting, people reading, books, and more books.

—Yes, of course, they're at the back on the left.— Says the librarian, smiling.

She's young, with green hair, and of course, glasses.

The librarian was storing new books covered in transparent plastic, in a cardboard box. It must be for a delivery to someone who bought them, although normally it would be a bookstore… One of the titles is "How to have your own garden".

—Do you have microfilm readers for old newspapers?.— Henrietta asks.

—Yes, of course, next to the computers, we have two, and the microfilms are at the end of the wall, on the right.— She replies, pointing in the direction.

—Thank you.— I say.

And we walk to the back of the library.

There are people typing on typewriters, you can hear the characteristic sound of the keys and the mechanism they use to turn the pages.

—What will you see first, Henrietta?.—

—The microfilms.— She smiles.

Among large shelves of books, all different and visibly old, we headed to the cabinets that hold the microfilms.

They're organized by year... Henrietta examines them and opens the drawers, taking some from 1977 and 1978.

—That's all.— She says.

A few meters away from us are the microfilm readers. They are like a CRT monitor, with a compartment below to place the film and a knob to display the images.

Henrietta turns it on, sits down, and places the small roll in the compartment. It's like the roll of a camera, and this reader allows you to view images on it, usually from newspapers and magazines preserved for conservation.

—Don't go.— Henrietta says, turning to me.

I smile and leave a hand on her head so she feels I'm with her all the time.

Henrietta quickly turns the knob until she reaches August.

—Anything interesting?.— I ask.

—Mmh, nothing.— She replies, reading the titles, one after another.

After a while, when she finishes with the first one, she places another and repeats the process.

—It seems to be empty.— She says, looking at the last newspaper cover of 1978.

—Is it all because of the probes?.— I ask.

—Mmh, yes.— She smiles, holding my hand warmly.

Henrietta turns off the reader, and we leave the films in place.

She sits again, this time in front of a computer, and accesses to this new tool called "internet" typing "Voyager probes".

—You are very good at using such modern technology, I don't know exactly how a computer works.— I say.

—Hahah.— Henrietta smiles.

—They're doing fine.— She says and hugs me.

—They'll send a message to a friend with pink hair. She'll have to meet her sisters and do other things.— She adds.

—Did you send that message?, does that mean you worked for NASA?.— I ask.

—I sent the message, but officially, I never worked for this government. In fact, where I come from, the United States of America no longer exists.— She replies, smiling and standing up.