Soon Isaac began dating Akina. A few months passed, and she invited Isaac to her home for an evening out. A cozy, romantic evening, spontaneously arranged at Akina's request, served as a step forward in their blossoming relationship. Isaac, having tasted new colors in his life, was more than satisfied — now he could proudly announce his relationship to his mother, for he had not bothered to look for love, and Akina had suited him completely.
That night Isaac's body suddenly began to ache, physical weakness soon set in, and he got up from the bed where his naked girlfriend lay and went into the bathroom. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth, in addition, the first symptoms of dizziness appeared.
Six months later, they visited Isaac's mother, who was in the hospital. A sad Akina, entering the room with her lover, was the first to approach one of the hospital beds, where a mature, thin woman was lying. Her blond hair was not as silky as it had been in the early days of her son, when they all lived in the village — which was understandable, because the mother was over fifty by this time.
Through the mother's lifeless eyes there seemed indifference to all that was going on, and her ears, hearing Isaac's call, did not respond in any way.
"Mother can hear and see," Isaac seemed subdued as he explained to Akina, "but right now her condition is critical. How so, nothing is helping her… No treatment, no rest."
Akina could only cast a heavy glance at Isaac and take hold of his manly hand.
"Mother," Isaac added, moving the nearest chair to the bunk and sitting beside his mother, "I would like to announce my near marriage. Your wishes have finally come true."
Akina, seeing the desperate smile on his face, uttered to the withdrawn woman, "Mother, how glad I am to see you."
Taking hold of his mother's skinny arms, Isaac cried involuntarily, nuzzling his face into her arms.
"Father will finally be able to sleep in peace, for they will have an heir. No illness will prevent you from seeing your future child."
With tears in his eyes, Isaac asked his mother not to die until she met her grandson or granddaughter. Akina, overwhelmed by her lover's words, could barely hold back her tears. Suddenly, raising her brown eyes, Akina saw tears flowing from the lifeless eyes of her immobile mother. It looked horrible to her.
"Mama…" Akina let out a handful of tears, covering her unhinged jaw.
"Forgive us."
Isaac was momentarily stunned as a husky female voice whispered from his mother's lips.
"You were supposed to grow up free," his mother added one last time. Isaac was left to accept the fact of what she meant. He was well aware that his life had been decided by his parents long before he was born.
***
The rain whipped across the city, hitting the windows with falling drops. The worsening weather marked the beginning of a change of seasons. Arriving at his home, Isaac began to remember his childhood. Although his father had forced him into the path of a doctor, his son enjoyed practicing medicine himself. Even his mother's apologies didn't make him doubt his chosen path, so he didn't give up his family duty. For him to see the happy faces of the people he saved was reason enough to continue his work.
The tranquility of the house was interrupted by the ringing of the front doorbell. Calling out loudly that he was about to open it, he went to the door and opened the lock. On the other side of the door stood a man in his forties, and when the door opened, the stranger appeared before Isaac in all his glory. The stranger's ear-length blond hair and dark eyes confused Isaac. He held a black wet umbrella and was dressed in a warm grayish coat.
He took the stranger in and they were soon having coffee while sitting on couches. In fact, Isaac guessed from his features and the color of his hair who the man might be, and he didn't bother with him unnecessarily. Without really talking about the essentials, they began to talk about the past.
"I saw my mother today, too," the guest said in his humble voice. His slender physique and full-body facial expression could well tell that this man was a model or an actor in some movies. "But I came in the morning, so we didn't meet. I wish I could have helped my mother."
"No frills," Isaac said with equal serenity to his guest, "August, why didn't you visit us earlier?"
"For my father completely erased our contacts and connections. Digging deeper, my connections found out your whereabouts," and the guest appeared apathetic. "You work as a surgeon, congratulations."
"Why did you turn your back on your family? Is it all about oaths, or resentment?"
Giggling, August replied, "I guess your father was exaggerating to you. I had no aptitude for medicine, as my father told me."
"But… how could that be?"
August shrugged, "They tried with all their might to get me into it, but it was in vain: in the end, I gave it up myself and gave up my father's training. I wanted to do what I expected from myself, so it was useless to prove my adolescent mindset to the contrary."
"But soon…"
"My father kicked me out of the house and broke off all relations. My mother, of course, was against it and tried her best to change my mind, but the Zalemans' stubbornness was the only trait that was really hereditary. It was all nothing — my grandfather was even stricter."
"Mother used to say…" Isaac said, lowering his eyes, "that you promised to see her again. Why did you make that promise, and why were you decades too late?"
"I wanted to see you again, but already learned to walk," August smiled. "Before you were born, all my ties to my family had already been removed, but the memories will never go away. I was eighteen years old then."
"Don't be sorry… It's not your fault at all, brother, that the situation turned out this way," Isaac said, aloof, surprising August. "Father made me follow in his footsteps, too, but I don't hate him."
"That's good," August smiled. "You were able to find yourself, and I, as your brother, find that comforting. God, how glad I am to see you at least — for the first time in my life."
Soon the subject came to his mother's illness, and August announced everything, about which his younger brother could not have known a thing. The older brother took all the information from the mouths of his then living grandfather and grandmother (who, in turn, was ill with the disease, but had managed to live sixty years). He said it was impossible to cure the disease completely, but it was possible to alleviate it for life by stuffing one's health with pills and vitamins.
"The treatment procedure would take years at least, and since it was not obvious to any of the doctors what kind of disease this could be inserted, no information is available. It's a deadly peculiarity…"
"So a person has to be treated for the rest of his life, if he's unlucky?"
"Grandma lived sixty years as a carrier of this disease."
"Sixty years?!"
"All she's done since she was a little girl is take care of her health by folk methods. How strange. Could our blood ancestors, the Zalemans, have imagined that one of our heirs would make an unknowable critical mistake that would bring almost the entire subsequent race to the brink of perdition?
"I," Isaac added softly, shifting his older brother's attention to himself, "inherited the disease."
August, dumbfounded by his answer, his shoulders trembled and his teeth gritted. Folding his palms to his knees, he lowered his regretful dark eyes.
"I see."
"I can't choose between treatment and work, because in the long years of heavy prophylaxis I will only waste time when instead I can save people from serious injuries in critical situations and support them. Especially since there's no telling how long I can live, even if I go into treatment."
"It's disappointing… but if your heart goes out to save other people's lives, that's your choice. To tell you the truth, I wouldn't likely choose lifelong treatment either, but unlike you, I might have more free time."
"So the disease hasn't affected you… That's good, because very soon I'll have a son, whose health I'm more worried about. I hope my children will have a carefree life…"
"When you have a child, Isaac, you shouldn't die."
With a smiling nod, Isaac lowered his sadness, "Brother, do you have an heir of the family?"
"Yes, he recently turned one month old."
***
A few months later, Lilia Zaleman, mother of Isaac and August Zalemans, died. A funeral was held, in which August also participated and a priest from their village was invited. All the people who came to the mourning could not speak a word against Lilia, and in life they all adored her unrivaled beauty. It was a shocking and hopeless loss for the brothers.
A month later he married Akina. August could not attend the wedding due to his busy schedule, but informed Isaac, to which he replied that it was no big deal. Akina was two months pregnant at the time of the wedding. Seven months later, the baby was safely born, inheriting beautiful dark hair from her mother and enveloping dark European eyes from Siegfried, Isaac's father.
"His eyes are so expressive…" he held his newborn baby tightly.
"Just like the evening sky."
The baby cried at the start, but the father couldn't be bothered with that. Isaac remained forever grateful to his one and only love, Akina, who gave life to a new family member. When the child grasped Isaac's index finger with his little hands, the latter realized that from that moment their relationship had already begun to take shape.
The father called his son Glenn in a gentle voice. Akina, knowing that Isaac was fond of Japanese culture, was pleased with her son's lucky choice of name, for he could be called in both languages.
"Guren..." whispered Akina, and Isaac nodded silently in her direction. A crimson-colored lotus, a meaning perfectly suited to Glenn's character and personality.
From the outside in the delivery room, an unnoticed young man, whose dark eyes seemed less expressive, looked on with grief. He could no longer remember what his childhood eyes had been like before his father died.
"You will live free," Isaac continued to express his love. "No one will take away your right to choose, because only you decide how you should act."
Throwing a glance at the young Akina lying on her bunk, the unseen young man understood from her wonderful smile why she agreed with his plan for the lack of money to treat her son.
"I promise," the father said, removing the child's cries with his grace.
***
When Glenn was eight years old, his father's health was rapidly deteriorating. In a conversation with Akina, Isaac said he wasn't trying to cure himself because it would take a long time. He said that he would rather help hundreds of people in critical situations than cure himself and lose decades to return to normal life. His condition is unlikely to improve significantly in a short time, since he has not had any treatment and the disease has only developed.
"But dear, what is the natural reason for such a decision…?"
"I suppose that one of my children will inherit my disease. I will put all the money I have collected into your hands so that you can live happily ever after. You are dear to me, and I will not endure even in the afterlife if any of you feel regret…"
Akina could not utter a word, from which her husband added: "Dear, my loving, understanding wife. Give Glenn a better life, so that he will be more free than ever. My condition will hardly allow him to see an adult, but please let my children not be restricted in their sustenance or housing."
Akina cried softly so that the sleeping Glenn would not hear her cry. The dark-eyed young man standing against the wall couldn't believe his ears.
Blinking, Glenn saw his father talking to his little self in the attic the next time. At the sight of his son, Isaac was anxious not to betray all his remorse, but it was surprising to him that Glenn, being a mild-mannered boy, dared not be capricious in front of his family. His father often told him about the first time he met his mother, and glimpsed stories about his older brother. For the most part he told everything in detail, but about his family and his older brother he did not reveal the whole story. Glenn realized even at the time that this was a sore spot for Isaac.
After his father said that it would be a good idea for Glenn to learn Japanese because it was his mother's homeland and he could soon go on a trip and see the amazing views, his son decided to learn about Japanese culture and began to learn Japanese from the age of eight.
A few days later, Glenn learns of his mother's pregnancy and, greatly surprised by this, rushes to congratulate them with his baby hugs. Nine months later, a baby girl is born, whom her father named Lilia.
After a while, when Isaac could find a free space for thoughts, he and Glenn went to church to pray. The father did not impose religion on his son, but the son took the initiative to go with him to any events. The father inadvertently thought that Glenn was trying to be like him, which amused him greatly.
"Faith is a pillar for a man until the last time he closes his eyes," Isaac declared. "For the rest of your life, God will never leave you. Because of that faith I have continued to move forward in spite of all adversity, and the son that now sits beside me is the gift of God, who has descended to confess to me the exquisiteness of human life."
"But father… was I not born to my mother, such a beautiful woman? What connection can there be between God's gift and my mother's gift?"
"Your mother's gift is a gift from God. I worship your mother, too."
"Father, I think my mother deserves to be called one. There aren't many goddesses for every man."
Father and son laughed, finding another common topic of conversation. Naturally, Isaac worshipped Akina not only for giving birth to his beautiful son, but also for being born herself and meeting his eyes on the same day that was the beginning of a new life for them. Isaac sincerely wanted to extend the enjoyment of his life just a handful more, just a little more, to see his grown-up son and daughter. He said to himself that while he was alive, he would do anything for them to have limitless potential in the future.
His father grew worse by the day. In the time that followed, his health deteriorated severely, and one unremarkable day, while at work, Isaac, shaking with pain, fell to his knees. Shocked colleagues immediately put him in the ward, and soon discovered serious symptoms: due to heart problems, he was experiencing intermittent pressure, brain hemorrhage, and internal bleeding.
They were unable to determine exactly what the chronic illness was and what exactly Isaac might have been sick with to make his body weaken to the point of extinction, and they made no premature arguments. The news quickly spread around. The family was the first to hear about it because a colleague of Isaac's called them. As a result, Isaac was sent to preventive care, after which he could no longer work.
The family, who knew of his illness, also gasped at the incident. Glenn remembered being told about the disease in serious table talk, but looking at the grim faces of his mother and father, the child simply could not take such creepy talk seriously. The son decided to visit his father in the hospital room as often as he could. Soon the dark-eyed child learned from his mother's words that, unfortunately, in his father's critical condition, treatment for this transient illness was either impossible or one could only hope for a miracle.
Each month Isaac's appearance worsened and after six months he was moving much more slowly (his arms and legs were weak and his muscles were drooping). While in the hospital, Glenn, who was sitting outside his room, tried his best to cheer his father up.
"Father, are you all right?"
"As long as I can see your beautiful face, I'm fine. You're going to grow up to be a beautiful boy, just like your loving mother. It would be nice if I could meet Lilia's first birthday too and see her walk on her two."
Quietly calling his hung-nose son by name, Isaac shook his head so Glenn wouldn't get upset.
"Father…?"
"You don't have to be a doctor. Everyone has the right to choose their own path — I hope my parents, looking at me, will understand. We need to keep moving forward despite everything."
"Father, you worry in vain, for you are a symbol of inspiration and a bright man to me… You have saved so many people from death that you have hardly stopped counting the number of successful operations: I want to be as bright as you, father."
Surprised by his son, Isaac's shaky and pitying eyes looked out the window of the room, beyond which the summer weather was in full swing. The atmosphere of summer and its calm current fascinated his father's ears.
"Pray, be kind, for even the choppy waves by the shore lust for your freedom. It is human dignity, a symbol of limitlessness."
The young man sitting on the next bunk, with unimpressive eyes, clouded after hearing his father's words, held his head. Grief chilled his consciousness, bursting out of his aching soul.