The Somber Side of a Scientific Mind. Christian Tyoder
sort of family feud. Abd remained very discreet in telling his story, and Hans, in trying to understand his companion’s state of mind, not through delicate questions but rather through mind reading. Bit by bit Abd revealed to his, by now, intimate friend numerous remarkable experiences of his life, while Hans patiently and considerately listened to his companion with compassion. The two men had spent time together for only seven days, yet their friendship appeared as if it was decades long. They carried their conversation into the late part of the night. The response to Abd’s last word about his two sons was the usual Hans’s heavy breathing. A complete silence pervaded the entire house.
Next morning, before the sun shone its first rays on the convex silo top, the two travelers were already up and about. They had their breakfast in a hurry. They paid Mrs. Bojeau and then Hans asked her whether they could leave their possessions in the living room until they returned with the Citroën. At the entrance of the Langvins’ property, they noted that the freshly washed car was parked a few feet from the shop’s main door, waiting to be picked up.
Handing the car key to Abd, Mr. Langvin took a puff from his cigarette. “Please go ahead and make a test run. Pay attention to the repetitive uneven tire rubbing sound against the smooth asphalt surface. I didn’t hear any such a noise this morning when I drove for more than ten minutes.”
Abd and Hans were able to start the motor within a fraction of a second and drove toward the main road, heading for the direction of Mrs. Bojeau’s house. Abd accelerated and then decelerated the vehicle on purpose, carefully listening, but the noise described by Mr. Langvin wasn’t there. They turned around and slowly reentered the driveway littered on both sides with rusty large auto parts. They parked the car again at the same place and then entered the shop. Abd took out the eighty-eight FF bank check from his shirt pocket and handed it to Mr. Langvin. “Thank you very much for your outstanding service. The car ran smoothly. We didn’t hear a single abnormal noise.”
“You are welcome. I am glad I was able to help you. If you ever come back this way, please stop in to have a drink.”
The travelers bade goodbye and then drove back to Mrs. Bojeau’s house to pick up their belongings, which were orderly rearranged in the trunk and the back seat of the car. They both leaned toward Mrs. Bojeau and deposited a kiss on each of her cheeks to express their thanks and say adieu. As soon as they got into the Citroën, Mrs. Bojeau ran out with a large bag in her left hand, waving at the men when the car started moving. “Wait, wait. Here is your provision for the day.”
Hans rolled down the window glass, grabbed the bag, then said thanks to the old lady. He could barely hide his emotion. Slowly the car got back on the main road in the direction of Basel. It was a sunny but cold day. By then it was a couple of minutes before 9:30 a.m. on Hans’s wristwatch. Abd increased the speed once the car passed the last house in Chaumont. The Citroën continued to perform flawlessly. Abd resumed his unfinished personal story. Hans patiently listened to his travel companion. To be sure that he understood correctly what Abd meant to say, he occasionally raised a question. Otherwise, he was rather quiet but attentive to each of Abd’s words.
In the early afternoon, they arrived in Mulhouse. They stopped for a break and filled the gas tank after eating the sandwich Mrs. Bojeau had sent along. Abd drove to Mulhouse regional hospital, showed to the receptionist his oncologist’s instruction letter, and then went to the hospital’s lab for the blood tests recommended. The travelers almost fell asleep in the emergency department’s waiting room. Finally, the lab technician who drew his blood earlier came out with the results, which were within the expected ranges one month after he received his first blood transfusion.
The two men arrived to the outskirts of Basel in the late afternoon of that day. After going through the Swiss border’s custom and immigration station, they headed for Basel’s main railroad station.
They parked the Citroën just a few hundred meters from the main entrance, entered the building, and looked at the train departure board. Hans mumbled, “Basel–Olten–Zurich–St. Gallen–Vaduz–Feldkirche 19:30.” With a facial expression of sadness, he snuffled discreetly then tendered Abd a ten-Swiss-franc bill. “It has been a great pleasure to be your travel partner during the past week. I hate to see you by yourself from now on until you arrive in Vienna. You had promised to let me help you partially defray some of the travel expenses. Please drop me a note once you reach Kabul.”
“Thank you for being so helpful during the entire trip and for putting up with all inconveniences.”
They embraced, and they were at the brink of shedding tears. Hans cast a somber regard at Abd, turned around, and walked to the exit door. Just at that moment, one by one the century-old, gas-powered street lamps lit up. Quickly he reentered the hall where Abd, woebegone by the inevitable separation from his companion, was slowly heading back to his car. Facing his friend, Hans emotionally uttered, “It’s getting late. You are not going to drive through the night, are you? I come to think that it would be very late in the night when I arrive in Vaduz with the next train and I don’t want to disturb my parents unnecessarily. Why don’t we stay here in Basel for the night?”
“It’s a good idea. I am tired too.”
They approached the station information counter and got the address of an inexpensive hotel located a few blocks from the station. Afterward, the two men had their fast dinner at a food stand next door. They returned to the car, drove a few minutes, and then checked into the hotel. After taking their showers, Hans sat on one of the two double beds with his back against the headboard and Abd on the only upholstered chair. They slowly drank the still very hot tea Abd had just finished preparing using the portable electric water boiler. Both men were thinking of the next day’s personal activities but remained quiet for the moment. Suddenly Abd somberly looked at Hans. “Can I still say a few more words to you about my future plan after we separate tomorrow?” Concomitantly he thought about his two estranged grown-up sons and silently wept.
“Of course, Abd. You should know by now, I am good at listening, but clumsy and shy at expressing.”
“As you probably have correctly guessed, I don’t have too many months left to live. With my rapidly declining health, realistically I wouldn’t be able to leave behind any written chapters of my life for my beloved ones. Now that I have confided to you during the last few days my true story, would you be willing to write my own memoir after my death? I am asking you to do me this big favor. I realize this is a colossal undertaking. You may write it in any form you choose, as fiction based on a real story or as a deceased’s memoir. If you accept to do it, please take time to do it leisurely. It doesn’t matter when you start writing, before or after you have a family with a loving wife and well-mannered children.”
Hans got off his comfortable bed, came to sit next to Abd, and gently stroked his back as a gesture of consolation. “I’ll do it with pleasure, as long as you are aware, I am not born to write, but rather to play with numbers. I cannot promise you the exact date when the book will be completed, but you can be reassured that it will be written in your honor.”
“Thank you very much for accepting this time-consuming task. Once arrived in Vienna, I will drop you a note giving you my home address in France where my wife Martine lives. I will instruct her to let you know of my whereabouts during the next few months if I will still be alive that long.”
Next morning after a light breakfast at the hotel, the men drove back to the railroad station. The next train for Buchs via Sargans was about to leave in a few minutes. From Buchs, Liechtenstein buses go to Vaduz. Hans took this route many times in the past. In a hurry, he bade a tearful farewell to his travel companion. “Be reassured, Abd. I will complete your memoir in a published book form. Future generations will learn a great deal of your life so rich with teaching experiences.” Those words, trembling with emotion, were heard on Abd’s left shoulder as Hans tightly embraced his friend for the last time. In a hurry, he climbed onto the platform with his luggage. The train started to move. Abd slowly walked in the same direction while directing his sad regard to Hans. Suddenly Hans, while descending one step from the platform and with his right hand holding on the opened door’s handlebar, yelled, “I almost forget to give you my business card.” Abd quickly grabbed the card from Hans’s