1170. Wounded minds, 2
(Armylè)
Johann looked for that person able to lift the spirits of the doctor.
He knew he would have to think outside the box. Anyone related to medical ground or worse, general psychological and sociological ground, was scorned by Morhens. They would only find despise and not help him change anything.
And Geder was not enough a man of the flesh, to look for some hedonist to help. Anything reminding him that he was a mammal, with biology and organic chemistry all over, would also be met with hatred more than anything else.
Finding someone able to listen to him, to make him talk and to help him, the insane overworked and neglected man... Now that his mind has begun shattering? That was a challenge.
Johann enjoyed challenges. He would find something.
He could count on the general solidarity of our people. Empathy was easy to find and most people were ready to go out of their way to help someone else. Although there were limits to everything, most people he would stumble upon in the streets would be okay following him back to the laboratory, if he were to explain he needed their help cheering a colleague currently feeling blue. However he knew very well it would be pointless to send anyone blindly. It wouldn’t work for Morhens, and worse, he would be shockingly rude to the person with genuine kindness that had come to see him freely.
Johann for now was evaluating the possibilities. But given the time of the day and his occasional outside hobbies, he knew where to start asking for advice.
He tended to frequent tea houses at the end of the days, for the occasional read and meeting of calmer people to chat about anything and nothing. He was one of the younger members of these places, and quite a handsome success. It amused him a little, and he enjoyed these places.
Although this time, he would ask for advices on things outside of his usual topics to discuss.
Many a people were willing to help when he explained his problem, but it was easy to tell no one there would be of any good. They wouldn’t be able to help, and they wouldn’t return without some damage to their pride or emotions.
If there was one thing he knew well, it was how the doctor behaved. He could see what profiles and topics would click with him, and which would enrage him. Someone loud would be a no go. Humility or calm was needed.
How to help remained a puzzling mystery, but at least Johann was gradually drawing the portrait of someone able to stand before the doctor and talk about something other than work with him. Not an easy fit.
Johann thought his best bet was someone mature, patient and phlegmatic. Someone wise who wouldn’t feel offended by anything nor be shocked by anything. Someone pragmatic to discuss with.
Johann went from one tea house to the next, looking for that match. Sometimes people were reading something, and still welcomed him. He was appreciated a guest in these meetings, even if he could not care less about what they were doing. He was still smiling and charming.
Everything outside the laboratory was an amusing side game to him.
He looked for that profile of a mentor, and eventually found a good candidate by the evening.
A senior woman, clearly older than the doctor. She was tall and yet not slouching by a centimetre. A steady silhouette, a calm and mild presence. A soft and slow voice.
Johann chuckled inside, feeling as if he had fallen in love seeing her and hearing her, she seemed to match everything he was looking for. He already knew her a little of her personality and education, so he could ask.
Margarette was excusing herself to leave. Johann followed to discuss with her as they would walk together. He would have the request, but first simply continued chatting nonchalantly with her.
M - I’m sorry, I have to pick up my dearest child. It’s an important day for her.
J - Is it her birthday?
Margarette looked in the distance and simply replied calmly.
M - The death of a friend.
Johann thought about the date. He adjusted his collar, thinking. He made a bet.
J - Cheryl Rough?
Margarette was surprised. She even shivered as she was opening her umbrella to the light rain.
M - That is quite a good guess. How did you know? Were you a fan of hers?
J - My younger brother liked her songs a lot. I couldn’t go to the concert because of work. Well, I heard about her. It’s not been a year, nevertheless...
M - Hence you guessed my granddaughter had known her.
J - Not many people die so young and so suddenly. It remained a guess.
They walked together under the rain and the umbrella Margarette was holding. It was gradually growing raining louder.
She could have been his mother and he felt at ease. As they walked the streets and stairs, he was beginning to brush the subject that really mattered to him.
He was concerned about the loss of energy from his esteemed colleague. Johann simplified and smoothed the picture in a way that could make her sympathise. Margarette listen without showing any emotion.
She was rather surprised although. Her young friend seemed really concerned and at an odd loss to help this professor.
They reached the nearby cemetery and the younger man realised he should be more respectful once more.
Night was falling. The number of tiles along the columns and walls had not really changed. The rare visitors were already gone, no matter what the internal lighting was.
J - So you’ve known her personally. How was she?
Johann didn’t realise his impolite question hurt the old lady. She didn’t mind too much, understanding the curiosity and the misstep for what it was. He had no interest for the life of the artist, but he was curious about most things.
And Margarette replied a little too honestly.
M - A suffering child... Shy. Reserved... She had beautiful eyes, quite large for her head, with profound colours.
All the opposite to what Johann had ever heard. He was surprised. He had pictured that cheerfully singing and dancing girl keeping a low fringe to hide her eyes. Margarette noticed his surprised and understood.
M - My granddaughter Néphéline told me she was hiding her eyes because she was shy. Prume wouldn’t have been able to face her audience otherwise. Thus she also hid her name.
Johann was puzzled, with more questions rising, but not worth asking in this place and time.
He didn’t react to Prume’s name then, but that other peculiar one bugged him.
J - Néphéline? That’s uncommon.
M - Her parents had a quite sophisticated sense of humour... She inherited their intelligence, but yet to find their brightness.
He didn’t get the joke of Néphéline’s name and surname. This corner field of science was too foreign to Johann. Néphéline’s mother had made a choice to always have a chance to bring back a colourful smile. Her child rarely showcased it.
All the opposite, Cheryl had smiled easily, and probably lied about her identity to protect her intimacy.
Margarette sighed as they continued to slowly walk toward the bereft younger lady.
M - I don’t think she quite realised her fame. And I’m not sure of what she was trying to avoid or achieve. Néphéline told me the truth after she died. Prume’s death really affected her. She was really enamoured with her...
Margarette too was clearly affected by this loss. One too many people younger than her was gone. My poor friend didn’t seem all too different, but she wouldn’t hold on many more years anymore.
She sighed and talked a little more, also for herself now.
M - So unfortunate a fate. Her family held her close, no matter what. She endured a lot as a sickly child...
Johann was puzzled by the ever flowing popping stream of questions in his mind, about all of them. Not much, but still puzzling a little. A sickly child, leaving apparently a twin sister behind.
Johann was listening to her quietly, although now he was thinking that if she had so much sadness to spare, she probably wouldn’t be good for helping Geder.
Something eventually clicked, and the echoing wave returned to his mind.
Now he reacted to something more puzzling. The chance or the wider surprise was visible on him. Another wild guess or improbable chance.
J - I’ve met the twins once... I remember them. I forgot their name, but I remember the one with a white eye and odd hairline.
It was Margarette’s turn to be taken aback. She had also probably encountered him once, quite some years ago. Johann was amused by how much that didn’t rejuvenate him to recollect on these old days.
When he had been forced to be a school medic for a while.
He told her a few words about that old memory.
And they finally arrived at the proper end of the place. Johann turned quiet and accompanied the lady toward Prume’s memento tile.
Margarette reached out to the lonely teenager sat and slouching there in misery.
Johann noticed her and felt the effect of her aura.
Some curiosity remained in various buds, but now he had found a better idea.
He wasn’t going to ask Margarette to meet Geder anymore.
~
