The Somber Side of a Scientific Mind. Christian Tyoder
listened with sympathy to his companion, who seemed choked at times when the latter went over the events that occurred during the years after his divorce. On one occasion, just a few minutes before Mrs. Bojeau announced that dinner was ready that evening, Hans was the witness to a great sob that rose in Abd’s throat. He quickly placed his arms around his friend for sympathy and consolation.
It was getting dark outside. The grandfather clock in the living room chimed at the stroke of six. Mrs. Bojeau called out from the foot of the staircase, “Gentlemen, dinner is ready in a few minutes.”
“Do you need help to set the table, Mrs. Bojeau?”
“No, thanks, Hans.”
Abd hurriedly got dressed. The two men then joined Mrs. Bojeau for supper. Abd complained that he was still tired. He ate very little, excused himself, and then went back to his room for an early night’s sleep. Mrs. Bojeau’s earlier observation was now confirmed. Abd was definitely ill. She quickly cleared the table and then suggested to Hans while unwrapping a thermometer she took out from the dining table drawer. “You should take his temperature and his pulse.”
Hans went upstairs and found Abd dressed in pajamas, sleeping. He did not want to disturb his companion. Occasionally the latter’s raspy cough broke the silence of the night. Abd woke up a couple of times to take his medicine and to go to the bathroom.
After more than eight hours of sleep, Hans slowly got up. He found his friend sitting in the upholstered chair with his drooping head between two sunken shoulders. Hearing the squeaky noise of the bed, Abd slowly directed his look at Hans. “Did you have a good sleep last night? I am feeling much better. My cough is subsiding. It is an indication that I don’t have anything wrong with my lungs. Probably it was caused by the cold air I breathed while walking to and from Mr. Langvin’s shop.”
Being a doctor, Abd was aware that his asthmatic diathesis predisposed him to develop reactive airway disease when he subjected himself to strenuous physical activities or a lengthy inhalation of cold air. After a long yawn, Hans replied, “I am glad you are feeling better. Mrs. Bojeau and I were worrying that you were getting sick.”
It was still quiet downstairs. Only the monotonous sound of water dripping from melting icicles hanging on the roof edges was heard. The sun was just over the hills. The packed snow surface was sparkling in Mrs. Bojeau’s backyard. In soft words, Abd continued, “During the night I heard footsteps downstairs, and the living room light was on for a while. Off and on a barely audible recitation of Hail Mary caught my ears. I presume Mrs. Bojeau was up and saying her nightly prayer.”
Quite surprised, Hans was asking himself whether Abd was a Christian Arab, as the latter seemed very familiar with the Catholic Hail Mary prayer. “Good guess, Abd. Last evening, before I went to bed, I noted that a worn-out black leather-covered Bible was on the kitchen table next to a half-empty cup of coffee. She must be devotedly religious. Do you note that she is not only trusting but also motherly in dealing with us? She lives alone and has no nearby relatives. Her only son and his family are almost six hours away by car.”
Abd finished his routine morning washing and shaving. He emptied the soapy washbowl water into the toilet and then looked at Hans still sitting at the foot of the bed. “Your turn, Hans. By the way, how old are you? I was sixty-nine last July.”
“I just turned twenty-eight this past month.”
“At your age, I completed my residency in internal medicine specialty. But I didn’t want to set up a private practice. So, I decided to stay in academic medicine.”
“Where?”
“At Karolinska University Hospital.” Thinking of his thirty-seven-year-old son, Emal, who didn’t want to go on past his bachelor’s degree, Abd went on to say, “I would like to hear more about your education and your professional achievement.”
“I didn’t have as much education as you did. Briefly, I finished my high school and then college in Vaduz, completed my postgraduate in economics at Ecole Des Hautes Etudes Commerciales du Nord in Paris [a top-ranking business school in France], where I received my PhD in business. From there, I went to Brussels where I had my internship in banking. My last two years were spent in Brooklyn, New York, as a junior executive banker.”
As the conversation on their life became more intense, the men stayed up into the early morning hours of the following days. Due to the subfreezing outdoor temperature and the all-day-long gusty wind, they stayed in their room after each meal. Religion was another subject Abd spent a lot of time on, besides the social issues that covered not only Europe but also the entire world. Much of the religious topic was centered on Islam versus Judeo-Christian culture, even though Abd was brought up in a Buddhist environment.
On the fourth morning at Mrs. Bojeau’s house, the penetrating freezing wind had died down and the sky was cloudless. The two men decided to take a walk to Mr. Langvin’s shop.
The latter, well bundled-up, was sitting at the doorsteps with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mustache-embellished mouth. With a smile, he looked at the returned visitors. “The axle and one of the strut rods were delivered a few minutes ago. I carefully examined them. They are in good condition. My contact still has not been able to locate the second strut rod. I have known him for years, and I am confident that, one way or another, this man will find the remaining part through one of his many connections. Just give him a couple more days.” All three men went inside. Mr. Langvin showed Abd and Hans the parts he received that morning.
Anxious to breathe the outdoor fresh air, the travelers bade goodbye and then went out for a continuing walk. The wind was calm. The bright but cool sunlight shone on Abd’s hollow face that looked to have a better color this late morning. Walking side by side on a partially snow-melting path leading to a denser conglomeration of dwellings, the two travel companions continued their intense conversation, interrupted occasionally by Abd’s dry cough. Due to his young age with an uneventful youth, highlighted only by his delivery of the valedictory high school address at the commencement exercises and a brief sentimental relationship with a young American lady in the Brooklyn bank last year, Hans didn’t have much to tell his friend about his life. On the other hand, Abd’s life story went all the way back to his mother’s home birth sixty-nine years ago in a small village located in central Afghanistan. He went on and on, talking about the civil war affecting his childhood and his youth. This period was followed by the separation from his parents at an early age then his relocation as a war refugee in another country, his education and professional achievement, and finally his family. At times the recount of each phase of his life appeared to be unending.
Hans’s first thought was that Abd, due to his current illness that could cause mental depression, just wanted to get off his chest the hardship of the life he had endured for seven decades. Frequently, Abd repeated the same details about his life, narrated the same events, raised the same questions at least twice within a day of conversation. Eventually, Hans started to suspect that Abd’s tendency of repetition must have a special purpose and therefore he didn’t mind to patiently listen. Occasionally Abd choked on giving an account of quite remarkable events of his life. This indicated to Hans that his friend was genuine in his storytelling. They became more trustful and more intimate by the fifth day of their stay at Mrs. Bojeau’s home. That evening, before saying good night to his friend, Abd revealed that he was married twice and explained to Hans the reason for his current trip to Istanbul.
On the next morning, the phone rang when all three were having breakfast. Mr. Langvin announced that the second strut had finally arrived and the travelers should be able to get back on the road no later than tomorrow midmorning. Bundled up warmly, Abd and Hans went to the local branch of Credit Lyonais Bank in town and had a check of eighty French francs made out to Mr. Langvin. They also got additional cash to pay Mrs. Bojeau for lodging and meals. Upon their return, Mrs. Bojeau served her guests an elaborate dinner comparable to a sumptuous small-scaled banquet. The meal was not complete until she opened a bottle of robust, sturdy, and earthy red wine, from France’s Languedoc region, that played well at the dinner table. After the “adieu dinner” (as Mrs. Bojeau called it), the men went upstairs. One could hear them conversing for a few more hours until the host turned