Walking through the woods with Lana half in my arms, using the excuse that she was exhausted and needed support, was pleasant.
Exciting.
Amazing.
After spending so many years yearning for something, only to finally reach out and take it, was a very strange feeling.
It was difficult to compare it to anything else.
Then again, was there any point in trying?
Gradually, the dazed state that had possessed Lana ever since she “awoke” inside that cocoon began to fade.
She was thawing out.
She started smiling more often.
A smile suited her.
I told her so.
In response, she immediately informed me that my own smile suited me very well too.
It was such a small thing, but it felt strangely warm inside.
I didn’t know what would happen next.
But we spent that evening together.
First, we returned to the stable.
Lana still rode the training course a couple of times, clearing the obstacles.
I didn’t know much about show jumping, and I certainly didn’t know the terminology, but it looked beautiful.
The only thing that bothered me was knowing that equestrian sports were among the most dangerous sports in existence.
Only gymnastics was more dangerous, I think.
I didn’t remember for sure.
I just didn’t want anything to happen to this beautiful flower, anything that could break her.
But I couldn’t lock her in a cage either.
She would wither.
She was simply too freedom-loving for that.
After the stable, we just walked around.
Then we stood outside her house for a long time, simply talking.
There were no kisses.
Certainly nothing more.
But our fingers touched.
That was enough.
Eventually, she went home.
I followed her example.
I didn’t work for long that night.
About two hours, that’s all.
I didn’t take on any new jobs, simply because I didn’t want to scare away the clients who had already come to me by suddenly disappearing from the face of the earth.
I wasn’t in the mood.
Actually, I didn’t have much of a mood at all.
But that was the thing about work.
You did it regardless of how you felt.
And I had to earn back the money I’d spent on my new equipment.
After that, I went to sleep.
And once again, I flew in my dreams.
I’d repaired the bed after the previous incident and reinforced it properly, so it survived my morning fall.
Maybe I should start developing this ability?
But how?
I had no idea where to even begin.
I did, however, know what I needed to deal with next.
Meteorites.
Green meteorite rocks were a problem.
The foundry had demonstrated that very clearly.
And problems shouldn’t be postponed.
They needed to be solved.
I’d already sent my order that night to the post office of one of the smaller medical-equipment suppliers.
Now all I had to do was wait.
*
*
*
Morning.
School.
The trip home. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Chores around the farm.
Helping Father.
Simple, ordinary things.
Routine.
You only really learn to appreciate that routine later, when you can’t even breathe anymore and your eyes close, cutting you off forever from the beauty of this world.
Enjoying every moment is simple.
And difficult at the same time.
I’d thought about walking home from school with Lana that day.
I’d even waited for her at the school exit, since our last two classes had been different.
But no luck.
She’d left somewhere earlier.
Instead, I walked for a while with Pete.
He was a cheerful kid.
Not a bad guy, really.
The only problem was that he was terribly jealous of me.
And that jealousy bothered him.
He considered the feeling wrong.
In that respect, he was right.
Envy was an ugly thing.
It poisoned the heart and clouded the eyes, making it impossible to enjoy what you already had.
But you couldn’t lend someone else your head.
You couldn’t live another person’s life for them.
Everyone had to deal with their own thoughts and feelings.
When I got home and finished helping Father, I went to the same hill I’d visited last time.
I stripped down to my swimming trunks and began practicing Tai Chi.
You had to live every moment.
Lana wasn’t here.
The sun was.
And anyone who said that wasn’t enough was a fool.