Chereads / When people have dreams / Chapter 43 - I didn't forget my past

Chapter 43 - I didn't forget my past

Walking through the empty streets, when it was a warm summer rain, I suddenly remembered that I have a house left by my grandfather on the outskirts of the city.

Why did I think of this house now?

But my memories brought me back there so clearly that I began to doubt if I was sleeping.

I wanted to move to this remote house and start living there. Maybe I should listen to Ethel.

Perhaps my current condition suggests that I haven't spent time alone in a long time.

And so, it was decided, I had to go far. And this house visited my memory just in time.

On the same day, on my return home, I began to collect all the necessary things.

I left all my books and put only one notebook in my briefcase.

Maybe I should take a break and understand myself.

That night, I couldn't sleep. And all because I was suddenly in anticipation of feeling a new opportunity that appeared in my life.

I thought, and I thought a lot. While my gaze was fixed on the sky. On distant stars which were whispering secrets.

When the first rays of the sun began to paint the sky in a gently blue color, I put on my suit and without breakfast, immediately got in the car and headed forward.

To my surprise, I suddenly remembered the road that led to that old house.

Although I was only there when I was a kid.

Memory keeps surprising me.

In the early morning, all the roads were empty. Yes, and how could I forget. Now, no one was working. No one had to go to work and make money, and all because of my book and the sign that was everywhere.

The sign on which was written in large letters: The "Dreamer" Foundation will help you fulfill your dream and start living as your heart tells you.

The road stretched along trees and houses until I was surrounded by hills and abandoned houses.

As I was driving, I was reminiscing about my childhood. I suddenly remembered how I had chosen the path of a philosopher. As a child, I liked to think about difficult things. And that skill was because I was always alone. But I didn't complain about the lack of friends.

When I was a kid, I used to visit my grandfather. But that was until I was 6 years old.

At 6 years old, I went to school and there, I became even more confident that I would live by thinking and creating different worlds on the surface of paper.

Of course, I didn't know then that this dream would make me go through a lot of difficulties before I become who I am now.

While I was reminiscing about my distant past, mountains and forests began to appear in front of me.

I, a long time ago, on horseback, galloped on these fields, hoping to understand the whole world at once.

The low mountains that were covered with trees seemed all the same. But the truth is, no matter how many years have passed, the mountains and trees will stand and wait for someone who could say, "It's been so many years, but it hasn't changed yet."

Looking at the mountains, I did not notice how I stopped the car in front of the gate.

I got out of the car and looked around. There was a forest around me and nothing else.

The gate, everything was the same. Nothing has changed in them. In addition to being surrounded and covered with leaves and bushes.

I pushed the gate with all my might, and to my surprise, it opened with ease.

As soon as I entered the house, clear images of myself appeared in front of me, only in the form of a child.

I remembered this fountain in the middle of the yard, around which I often ran, or sat with the book.

I remembered those old swings, which are now of course rusting. And also, this tree, near which I stood and admired the sky through the green foliage.

And the voice of my grandfather, who told me, "Skye, you don't have to read that much. You're a kid, go play."

One step further, I stopped in front of the house with large windows.

The house looked as if someone lived there.

A wooden door, two columns that held the roof, brick walls and silence.

Without thinking, I just went to the door, and holding the key that was in my office all this time, I looked around again. The feeling that someone was following me was too strong.

And I was right.

I was really being followed.

And as I later realized, it was an elderly man who decided to be visible.

I didn't recognize him right away, but when I looked into his blue eyes and noticed this kind and slightly tired smile.

"How many years have passed," he said, clutching his cap.

I couldn't remember his name, so I just silently stared at him.

He came closer and looked at me from head to toe.

"You're still the same Skye. Of course, apart from the fact that you're very tall. You don't remember me?"

I had to look at him for a few more minutes before I could remember how, as a child, I often made him worry about me. And that he was always looking for me when I fell asleep right on the tree.

He was a gardener who was also a good friend of my grandfather. And in hard times, one day, when this man appeared on the doorstep of this house, my grandfather generously offered him to live here, and in return, he became a gardener.

I immediately remembered his name.

I wanted to hug him, which I did.

Embracing me in response, he said softly, "I knew you were coming back. Me and this house have been waiting for you."

"Joseph, how are you doing? Have you been here all this time? Why didn't you call me?"

"Yes, I've been here all this time. I wanted to call you, but you became such a famous scientist that I didn't bother you," he said, and smiled happily.

He used to have thick black hair, and he always had an athletic physique, but now, as I noticed, he looked pretty much the same. Except, of course, gray hair.

"You could have called me," I said, feeling happy.

"Can't believe it," he said, and I noticed a gleam of tears in his eyes.

I didn't find the right words, I wanted to say so much, to remember many things, and most importantly to remember my grandfather.

But I couldn't start talking after all these years.

"Why don't we go into the house? See if that's changed."

I followed him.

The gait, the habit of holding his cap and humming something - while he was going somewhere - all this was still his habit.

And even his style remained unchanged. Jeans, shirt and comfortable shoes. And nothing else.

As I later noticed, my grandfather's house hasn't changed at all.

It was the same here as it was many years ago.

The same furniture, the same paintings depicting mountains and forests, the same fireplace opposite which I often sat and listened to different stories of my grandfather, it was the same as many years ago.

Time, here, really stopped at the moment when my grandfather left this world.

And even the carpets were the same. They were new, as if no one had ever walked on them.

But most importantly, it was the atmosphere of the house itself. After all, with every second it seemed that Grandpa would come out of his little office, where he usually read or write, and say, "I would like a cup of tea with chocolate."

And even now, I could hear his voice. Maybe my grandfather really has become eternal. Or it was my memory, my heart, that gave him eternity.

When we went to the kitchen, where he used to cook and tell stories from his youth, Joseph said, "You've probably forgotten a lot of things."

"Now, I've remembered everything."

"Let me make you tea. Remember, when you were a kid, you used to like to sit at this table and eat chocolate while he told you different stories."

"Of course, I do. And when I didn't believe his stories, he frowned and got up from the table."

"And then we all tried to prove that we believe his every word."

"But perhaps sometimes I thought that he made up some of his stories. Although now I know that everything, he said was the purest truth."

Joseph, putting a small cup in front of me, looked at me and suddenly fell silent.

"I can't believe it. You look so much like him," he suddenly whispered.

I took a sip of hot tea without saying anything.

"I heard about you on the news. Actually, I hear about you quite a lot," he said, still looking at me. "You've become so famous. I never doubted that you would be so great."

"I haven't done anything great. Just wrote a book, if that's what you're talking about."

"You wrote a book and changed the world. And you still don't think it's a great thing to do? You really look like him. Just as humble. He, too, never valued his mind, his thoughts. It always seemed to him that he was still not smart enough to understand this world, these people," Joseph said, and then I realized that he was still in the distant past after so many years, no matter how hard he would have tried, the past would never let him go.

"You know, I'd like to live here."

"This is great news! Why didn't you tell me about it right away? I was already beginning to worry that you'd get up and leave now, and maybe this would be our last meeting."

I smiled and finally felt at home.

"Yes, I'd like to take a break from everything."

"Your room, there, nothing has changed. You can live here right now. You brought your things with you, didn't you?"

"Yes, they're in the trunk."

"Then I'll go and make you a room," Joseph said, and wanted to leave, but I stopped him.

"I'll get my own stuff. You're not a maid in this house, and you've never been."

"Yes, but still, I've been looking after the garden and the house for so many years, it's not hard for me. Besides, I'm very grateful for the kindness of your family. I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't for your grandfather."

"Well, in that case, better think about what we're going to eat for dinner tonight," I said, and headed toward the door.

Later, when I unpacked my belongings, I took a deep breath and sat down on a chair by the window.

Really, my room hasn't changed.

It was a small room. There was one desk, one bed, a wardrobe for clothes and shelves for books.

The smell in this room was the same as it was many years ago. It was the smell of chocolate and books.

Now, sitting in this house, I suddenly felt as if I had never left this place.

Memory can work wonders. One only has to return to a place from the past, as soon as there is a feeling as if all that time that was between that moment and the present, immediately disappears.

I closed my eyes and suddenly the sleep overpowered all my thoughts. I slept until the evening sun's rays began to shine through my window.

I opened my eyes and saw Joseph in front of me. And he looked a little worried.