Arrival

On a winding path among juniper bushes and pine groves, John stops in front of a small church. The bell tower rises above the groves of Kras, a sharp crescent of the young moon hangs in the turquoise sky. He is just a few steps away from the first village house along the meadow and vineyard. The tops of crosses stretch over the low graveyard wall. An old man suddenly appears from behind the tombstones. The young man shrinks.

John. O! … Good afternoon.

Angel. God grant!

John. You startled me… Are you from the village?

Angel. From birth till death.

John. I’m John, I’m looking for Mr. Bruno Vran, a professor. Perhaps you know him?

Angel. Is there any one in the village who doesn’t know master Bruno! The old man draws closer, offers his hand and raises his hat in greeting. I am Angel, people call me Angelo… It’s a good thing you came, John. I knew you’d come.

John. You knew that? How? Did – the master tell you?

Angel. No, I learned that from my souls.

John, in awe. Souls?

Angel, pointing with his hand over the graves. My souls, to be sure!

John takes a step back. Are you talking about the souls of the dead? Are they not supposed to be in heaven, if anywhere?

Angel, with an indulgent smile. Of course they’re in heaven, but the heavens are everywhere, a little bit here, a bit more there … and the same goes for hell… and purgatory too, ha, ha…

John sighs in relief. It seemed to me you were trifling with me, Mr. Angelo! I’d be happier if you told me where professor Vran lives.

Angel. Just follow me; the master’s house is in the centre of the village. Bruno is truly a learned man, he is well-versed in philosophy, psychology, theology… Besides, every man knows many a thing – even what he doesn’t know that he knows. Has it ever crossed your mind, John, what the world would have been like if we had known now what happens to us after death? ... Well, what do you think?

John, again in awe. I don’t know… How would I know that?

Angel winks at him. Quite simple: if that had been the situation, there would have been no death at all, since we would be facing one single infinite future! And since we already know that we are growing older day after day, that our hair will turn grey and our eyes grow weary, we would then know that after being swallowed by the earth or burnt by fire, we would carry on with our lives in other beings, say worms, rabbits, bats… Can you imagine, John, what it’s like to be a bat?

John. A bat?

Angel. Yes, a bat – you do know what or who a bat is?

John. I know that.

Angel. Well, and if you try a little bit harder, you can imagine what it’s like to be a bat…

John. Hem, not so easily.

Angel. … it is like turning into a winged angel after death, only that you fly in the dark, to and fro, ha, ha…

John. I don’t know. You’re probably joking.

Angel immediately becomes earnest. This is no joke at all. I would just like to remind you of a wanderer, who will come exactly to this place in a thousand years’ time, to our village, to marvel at the sky’s azure, the stillness of the earth, secrets of stones…

John, bewildered. How can I ever recall him, if he is only just to come… in a thousand years, as you say?

Angel. Just recall, do not shun it, you do remember everything! How could you not remember – you yourself are that very same wanderer, who else! … Well, this is Bruno’s house. Farewell, John, soon we’ll meet again…

John wondering in his thoughts after being left alone. Well, I never! Who is this man? Angel, named Angelo? Where has he disappeared? Has he sunk into the ground? Flown into the sky? … Would I have recognized him, if we met again, as he says we shall? … Angel, the soul’s shepherd? More likely a madman… But how well spoken he was: heavens are everywhere, a little bit here, a bit more there… Man, who knows also what he doesn’t know that he knows!

Master Bruno stands at the entrance, under a stone vault.

Bruno. Come in, John!

Above, on the central stone of the vault, above the big wooden door with an ancient handle, the Wheel of Wisdom is carved. A rose is climbing the walls around the door. Behind the wall glows a dark green flame of the cypress. The master is smiling, running his fingers through his thick, in places already gray hair. He offers his left hand to greet the young man. The doors open into a garden, lit up by the spring light.

John. Master Bruno! … Who was that man?

Bruno. Angelo. You probably met him by the graves, he often goes there.

John. He says he is talking to the souls of the dead.

Bruno. Yes, that is what he says… He lives in the upper part of the village, in a house near the forest.

John. He spoke about you with great respect.

Bruno. Sometimes he visits me and we talk a lot, he is interested in philosophy. He studied for some time when he was young... Now, since his wife died, he has been rather lonely… Well, John, do come in so that we can close the door.

John, noticing the garden. How nice!

Bruno. Indeed, the garden is beautiful… and even more beautiful later, in May, June… but nature is always beautiful in her own way, in all four seasons of the year… I have Mary help me with the garden, actually the garden is her work… We shall sit here, in front of the house. Would you like a cup of tea?

John. Please, master Bruno… and thank you for inviting me, I’m deeply honored … Marija is your wife?

Bruno. No, Mary is a friend of mine. She too lives in the village. If you stay till supper, you’ll probably meet her… Wait, let me get you some tea. Do sit down, I’ll be right back.

John, in his thoughts, while watching a sprouting vine. I imagined master Bruno living in a much larger house, in a mansion of some sort, probably due to his last year’s lecture on demonology in Goethe’s Faustus… and, of course, because the master himself is an extraordinary man – with his dark eyes, sharply drawn eyebrows, thick black hair, gradually turning gray, and distinctive, slightly eagle-like traits, which soften when he smiles, and with his slender figure and leisurely, gentlemanly bearing, additionally accentuated by old-fashioned clothes made from fine fabric… as if he were coming out of an English club – here, in front of a Kras house, in front of an old farmhouse with a vine veiling a stone table, a well behind the trellis, the aisle and the small windows, with only one larger window, probably with the master sitting next to it when writing… And here, through this garden he strolls pondering on soul and demons… And how many different trees grow in the garden! Blackthorn already blooming, the cherry tree is just about to bloom… indeed, it is beautiful here! And how amiably he received me, as if he were waiting for me the whole day…

Bruno comes back with tea. Now tell me, what is it that brings you here?

John. I came here to ask you for some advice and some help. I’ll try to be short…

(Translated by Janko Lozar)