Catherine and the one-eyed man didn't exactly walk down the road, but furtively hurried through the shadows off to the side of the roads. She had some difficulty keeping up because her knee was hurt, but her savior waited for her patiently if she lagged too far behind. The silent excursion was welcome after the shocking incident before; she kept her mind focused on moving forward instead of how she had just nearly died.
Ten minutes later, they returned to a road and walked along the sidewalk. "Please act naturally." The man told her as she caught up. "I don't want things to look suspicious to the neighbors."
Catherine looked around as she walked beside him. It was a residential area just like Melany's neighborhood; quiet and peaceful. A few lights could be seen through windows here and there, but not in the house where the man was going. As it is often the case in residential areas, the house looked similar to the others on the street: mostly white exterior, single-story building with two draped windows in front and maybe a backyard, but she couldn't really tell. She memorized the address just in case. The door was missing something though: it was just a metal door with nothing on it. No knob, no latch, no passcode, no lock or even a little window to see through.
The man put his hand flat on the door and simply pushed it open. He stepped inside without hesitating.
She watched him through the doorway; a shadowy figure in a dark house. It turned and looked at her; a twinkle in the singular eye was the only visible feature, giving the person an ominous image. Everything bad Catherine had been told about strangers was screaming inside her head.
A light in the room was opened and the man's expression was exposed: not one of malice or unusual kindness, but one of empathy. "You comin' or not?"
Catherine inhaled deeply. What has the world come to if I can't trust someone who saved my life? She nodded and followed him inside. The door was closed behind her. To her relief, the interior looked like a regular modest home. The entrance led into a living room, complete with a sofa and TV, with a kitchen and dining room further back and a few feet higher; they were separated by a ramp in between. A hallway to the left of the kitchen probably led to a bedroom or bathroom, while to her left was an elevator connecting to the basement, all standard stuff.
"Let me get something for your knee, go sit on the couch." He went past her and headed down the hallway on the left.
Catherine sat on the comfy black couch, wincing as her injured knee bent. She hadn't noticed that blood was running down her leg. In fact, now that she looked at it the wound looked pretty bad and her knee throbbed with every pulse of her heart. She looked elsewhere to stop thinking about it. Everything seemed rather clean and tidy, not what she expected from a man; as far as she knows they're generally messy. Maybe his partner cleans it for him. She thought.
The man in question came back into the living room, holding an unfamiliar bottle and a chair. He propped it in front of her, sat down and held out his hand. "Your leg?"
She hesitantly extended her right leg. She noticed the bottle had no label on it. "Is that a disinfectant?"
"It's a little stronger than that, but you have to keep the muscle relaxed, ok?" He answered while grabbing her ankle.
She nodded and tried to breathe as calmly as she could.
"Look at me." He tapped a finger on his jaw. "Your teeth are clenched, just relax."
She looked into his one eye, noticing its pale gray color and loosening her jaw. As soon as she did he dipped the bottle while she was distracted. Only a tiny trickle fell, but she suddenly felt a searing pain as the liquid touched her wound. "AH! WHAT THE HELL?!" The grip on her ankle tightened as she reflexively recoiled and kept her leg firmly in place. She saw the wound bubbling from the inside; the liquid bursting from them spread evenly across her knee and steadily changed the color from red to pink as it became fresh new skin. In a matter of seconds the pain and the wound were completely gone.
The man let her have her leg back. "See? Not a trace left. Except for the blood stains, I'll get you a towel for that."
After the blood was cleaned up, Catherine threw him back his towel, as he had moved the chair further away he wasn't in arm's reach anymore. "Thanks for helping me out…" She awkwardly tried to find a nice way to ask his name.
"Silvester, old fashioned name I know, and it's no problem: I was out on an errand but my friend is taking care of it for me." He held his hand out to her like before, but this had a different meaning.
She put her hand across her chest. "I'm Catherine. I was going back to my mom's house… speaking of which I should tell her I won't make it back tonight." She made a quick call with her watch, telling her mom about the accident with the train and that she'd spend the night at Melany's.
As she hung up, Silvester said: "You know you're not going back out there, right?"
Catherine was perplexed. "Why not? No offense, but I can't really spend the night here in a stranger's house."
"You think I killed that cow who wrecked the train?" He pointed outside beyond the draped window. "I only knocked him out. By now he's already back on his feet and roaming around. There was also more noise down the road so there might be more than one, which is why I didn't simply give you a lift back to your house."
She imagined running into the bull-headed form in the dark and chills crept up her spine. "On second thought, I'll stay."
"The thing that's puzzling me though is : why didn't you try to defend yourself?" He asked her. "I figure you're a NSU since you were going to ride the train, but you should still be able to summon it in an emergency."
"Um…" Catherine was a bit embarrassed of the answer. She timidly looked at the floor. "I left my Spirit at home."
"You WHAT!?"
His reaction seemed a bit much to her. "What? I didn't want to wear it; it's not that bad."
Silvester face-palmed. "Not that bad?! This isn't like leaving a pet at home: it's like chopping off your own arm and abandoning it." His hand made a chopping motion on his elbow. "Your Spirit is a part of your very being, you can't just-" He stopped himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, it's not really any of my business."
Catherine absently brushed her hair back behind her ear. "It's alright. I don't really… know much about Spirits."
He sighed. "Can't blame you for not knowing."
Yeah, my mom is to blame here. "So where am I going to sleep?" She asked.
"You're sitting on it."
"Oh, right." She examined the couch a bit. "I guess it'll do."
"It'll have to. Try to get as much rest as you can." He got up and walked to the light switch.
Catherine waited for him to leave after he had closed the light, but he just sat back on his chair, looked out the window and stayed there. "Aren't you going to sleep?"
He shook his head. "I don't usually sleep at this hour."
"And you're staying there all night?"
"Sorry if I don't want to leave a stranger alone in my house." He answered.
"Fair enough…" She gave in as her 'stranger' excuse was flung back at her. Laying sideways on the couch she closed her eyes and tried to at least relax. She tossed and turned, but sleep seemed out of her reach. No matter how much time passed it felt like her heart was thumping out of her chest; the sound of it reverberated inside her skull. A few times she wondered if Silvester could hear it racing. Then, after what felt like hours, her heart finally slowed and her mind drifted until she was just on the edge of consciousness…
*CRASH*
The sound of a loud impact and scraping metal suddenly jumped Catherine awake. With a tense of her muscles and a gasp she opened her eyes, only to find that nothing was out of place.
Silvester turned his head her way; he had not moved from his chair. "Can't sleep?"
She realized the sound had only been in her head; an echo of the train from earlier. She pulled up her legs, wrapped her arms around her knees and gently shook her head.
He pulled out a small rectangular object from his pocket and said: "Maybe this'll help."
Catherine couldn't quite make it out in the dark. "What is it?"
"An old kind of musical instrument from before the Spirit years. They called it a 'harmonica'." He answered.
"Weird name." She commented. Listening as he put the instrument on his lips and started playing, she became immediately entranced. The sound was soft, yet filled the entire room easily, and every note fluctuated perfectly at Silvester's whim, coloring the darkness with a living melody. The song was beautiful, but also filled with sadness, as if all sounds could end at any moment. Before Catherine realized it, she was hearing the notes in her dreams and sleeping soundly.
***
In the morning, Catherine was woken up by the vibration of her watch; an incoming call from Melany. She quickly looked across the living room and saw that Silvester was not there. Pressing her watch she answered: "Hello?"
"Thank the Spirits! You're okay!" Melany's voice screamed. "I saw the accident with the train on the news."
"Don't worry, I'm fine." Catherine told her. "Someone helped me out and I don't even have a scratch." She sat on the couch and saw the person in question at the dining table eating something. "I'll tell you all about it later, ok?"
"I was scared since you didn't call or anything." She said. "Call me later tonight, alright?"
"Alright, later!" She hung up and sighed. She had completely forgotten about her last night. She stood and stretched her arms, then walked over to the dining room. "What're you eating?" She asked Silvester.
He swallowed his current bite. "Muffin. Want some?"
Catherine realized just how famished she was and nodded. He pointed at a domed plate in the kitchen with a pile of muffins in it and she eagerly took one inside. Sitting at the table opposite him she took a bite of the chocolate-filled pastry and loved it instantly.
He finished his and said: "The train's running again now, you can take the next one and go home."
Catherine nodded with her mouth full. Swallowing she asked: "That's it?"
He gave her a confused look. "Was there something else?"
If she was honest with herself, she didn't even know what she was implying. Was I expecting him to ask me a favor in return? But no, that wasn't it. Rather, it was something that she wanted, from a man who represented everything her mother forbade. "I want to learn more about Spirits!" She blurted out.
His eyebrow rose in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I could tell you know a lot and I've never had someone who showed me how to use it. I was wondering if I could… come back and you could maybe… teach me… a little." Her initial spontaneity slowly died down to a barely audible tone as she realized the unlikeliness of him accepting. She blushed and looked down at the muffin in her hands.
A silent moment passed. "I'm only free in the afternoons."
Catherine's face lit up. "Is that a yes?"
"Yes, but you have to promise me never to leave without your Spirit again." He told her.
She happily nodded and quickly finished her breakfast.
After she was done he escorted her to the door and opened it for her. "You know how to find your way to the train?"
"I'll be fine." She answered. Now that the sun was up she could easily find her way to the nearest station. She stepped outside and looked back at the one-eyed man, waving him goodbye. "Until next time!"
Silvester timidly waved back and closed the door.
Catherine continued on her way and smiled; she could barely contain her excitement. She felt like she was finally finding her own path and every possibility was open to her.