The desert wind was blowing around serenely, bringing along dryness and yellow sand and not caring about the noise in the little oasis or the silence that came after.
The rather rude way of questioning did not irritate the old man. With things back in rhythm he wanted, he regained his earlier calm and indifference with a little bit of satisfaction in his heart. After all, how many years has it been since he was last frustrated by someone? Surely a few thousands, right?
So, in response to the questions, he asked:
"Do you remember the last moment of your life?"
That caused the resuscitated man to hesitate. Of course he remembered, after all for him death was not that scary. But, in an unfamiliar situation, facing an unfamiliar person, talking carelessly may put him at a disadvantage, making him lose the initiative and facilitating whatever the other party may be planning through him or against him.
After a moment, he answered:
"I was abandoned in the desert and left to die but just before everything went dark I think I felt some sort of warmth within."
The old man, not caring about his hesitation, nodded and continued:
"So you were dying. You accepted death while clinging to life at the same time. That put you in a limbo of sorts that harmonized with the world and allowed you to touch its essence. It passed through you and changed you.
Just so you know, everything has a cycle. From the universe itself down to your very cells. Abundance and scarcity chasing after each other. To make a crude analogy, think of the heart in the body taking blood and giving it back then rinse and repeat with everything in between. The new cycle is like the blood coming back but this time charged with nutrients. However, it takes time to be charged with all the nutrients, be whole, balanced and beneficial."
Pointing at his interlocutor, he continued:
"And you, my young friend, came in contact with the very first nutrient of that blood. It was concentrated and unbalanced. It was everything the desert could be superficially, conceptually and fundamentally. Just like the world would tend toward becoming a desert if that was the only element of the new cycle, you are on your way to becoming a part of the world's deserts. If you don't believe me, you should undo your bandages."
Taking a deep breath, the resuscitated man looked at his bandaged body. He started from his hands, allowing him to see his skin that was drier than normal and taking notice of the fact that he was skinnier than he remembered.
Forcibly calming himself, he kept undoing the bandages and, by the time he was completely naked, he already believed part of the old man nonsense with a bit of disconcertment. Looking at his desiccated body he thought:
'I just showed my ass to death through some miracle and now I have to go see him again?'
"How long do I have?"
"I don't know. It will depend."
Raising an eyebrow he pressed the old man:
"On?"
"If you will stay in the desert and accept becoming part of it or if you will leave and look for a chance to survive."
"Are those changes you talked about the reason why I threw up earlier?"
"Yes. You are now incompatible with everything other than the desert so I used water to provoke your awakening. If not, who knows how long it would have taken you to wake up on your own, even then, that is if you were not directly assimilated by the desert."
That answer made him condense his gaze that was on the old man as if he wanted to pierce through his heart to get the answer to his next question:
"So, why did you go through all the troubles?"
The old man seemed to smile with his eyes while answering:
"When we meet a second time or if we meet you will know."
"And when is that?" He didn't care about the "if" because he was certain that the old man was not doing a Samaritan job.
"When you have attained a new balance."
"How do I do that exactly? And who are you?"
"Don't worry, I will give you some hints. As for me, I am just an exiled sinner."
After he finished speaking, he took out a crumpled piece of paper from his cloth bag and put it on the sheet he used to drag the resuscitated man through the desert.
Then, without leaving him any opportunity to retort, he stood up, took his belongings and turn around while leaving only one last sentence:
"Till we meet again boy. I hope you will survive."
Or two.
Before the resuscitated man could come back to his senses, a sandy desert wind swept by, with the old man disappearing with it as if he was melted by it.