Till we fall

PART ONE

1

At first, Sophie hadn't even noticed the sobbing. The closer she came to the little tree stump by the roadside, the more clearly she heard it. Again she whistled for James, her Labrador Retriever. But James didn't care that she wanted him by her side right now. Not paying attention to her, the dog roamed through the low pale-green bushes beside the road, puffing like a little steam engine. His snout was moving so fast that it seemed he wanted to catch the thick rain drops before they could touch the ground. He didn't listen to her because the awful weather was offering him too many exciting smells. Sophie gave him an accusing look.

She tightened her fingers around the wooden umbrella handle before she took a few more steps toward the lone figure sitting on the rotting stump.

A young man had his face buried deeply in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. Sophie stopped about six feet from him and looked at him closely. Hesitation was against her nature. Normally she wasn't the kind of person to first consider everything thoroughly before taking action. But there was something about the actual scene that kept her from addressing the young man.

He wore a light-brown overcoat with a mottled pattern. Its seam touched the wet ground around the stump. In the front of the coat were two long rows of black-and-gold buttons, and it had thin epaulettes on the shoulders. These almost gave his coat the look of an elegant uniform jacket from the past. Under the coat, Sophie recognized a fine dark-brown tweed suit with a matching vest and a black necktie over a white shirt. But the most unusual thing were his socks: one with green-and-white stripes, the other with a bright-yellow plaid pattern. The socks were inside narrow ankle-high leather shoes highlighting the eccentric look of this young man. The overcoat as well as his shoes would have looked good on her, too, she thought, slightly tilting her head. Really curious now, she wondered: What was wrong with this guy? With her free hand, she gathered her wavy shoulder-length hair in her neck, bunching it in a thick strand.

I don't know who you are. But please keep going, the faceless figure suddenly said into his hands, making Sophie flinch. Maybe she hadn't expected him to notice at all that she was watching him. Or perhaps she was surprised by his demanding tone of voice which she found not exactly appropriate under the circumstances. In any case, she was startled and suddenly felt challenged.

I apologize for caring when I see somebody sitting alone crying in the rain on a tree stump. He answered quickly and soberly:

Apology accepted. And now please just go away!

Sophie snorted with contempt. She looked for James who had just disappeared behind a rhododendron bush. Who does this guy think he is? She is not going to let him boss her around like that.

Correct me if I'm wrong, she said, but as far as I know, this park is public property. I'm not going anywhere unless I want to. And do you know what? She lifted her shoulders a bit. Right now, I can't think of a better place to be than right here.

She dropped her shoulders, waiting for a reaction. But this time, the young man made no effort to reply. He simply continued sobbing quietly without saying anything further. Sophie saw no reason why she should let his silence drive her away. After all, she only meant well. She stayed where she was, looking at him for a while. Lost in thought, she moved her hands down her burgundy knee-length woollen overcoat, resting them on her slender hips.

Now you won't speak to me anymore? she finally asked, watching her dog running toward the young man, his tail wagging wildly. James had just appeared again from behind the rustling bushes. The man stayed crouched on the stump.

Don't be afraid, she joked. The worst he'll do is bite a couple of fingers off. But the man didn't move at all. James turned away, suddenly finding a fallen pine cone much more interesting.

You're talking about your dog? the man asked quietly. Sophie wondered how he could even see through his hands which he was still holding in front of his face. Maybe he had just heard the dog.

No, I mean the blackbird on the branch over there, she countered, a little bitchier than she had intended. Of course I mean my dog.

Now the man lifted his head and sat up a bit, cautiously dropping his hands into his lap. He turned to the left, with a brief glance at the branch where two seconds before, Sophie had noticed the bird singing its tune. Then he turned around and looked at her. Suddenly a little less secure, Sophie placed her left hand into the crook of the arm holding her umbrella. She stood up to his gaze.

The young man's face was reddish and a little swollen, but apart from that it wasn't exactly unattractive. He seemed to be a bit younger than herself. But what really caught her attention were his eyes. Each eye was of a different colour. The right eye was brown while the left eye had more of a strongly moss-coloured green shade. His short dark-brown hair was a complete mess, sticking out in all directions.

Sophie had just found her speech again, wanting to open her mouth to ask him why he was sitting there in the rain all by himself, when she heard a strong flapping of wings. Amazed, she watched the excitedly fluttering blackbird land on the man's right-hand epaulette.

Flabbergasted, Sophie forgot her question while the bird folded its wings, puffed up its feathers and moved its little head back and forth between her and the man's ear. Sophie's lips stayed slightly apart while she stared back and forth between the man and the bird.

Did you mean this blackbird? he challenged her, his voice still trembling. He began to caress the bird gently. I don't believe it will bite my finger off. But I can't promise about yours. What do you think?

He looked at the bird with affection. Sophie was speechless and not quite sure whether he had addressed her or the bird. Now she saw that James had come over to the tree stump, sat down and also looked at the blackbird. Sophie couldn't believe what had just happened in front of her eyes. She was amazed how calmly James was behaving. Usually he jumped on new people he met. She would have expected him to wildly chase the bird away, knocking the young man over in the process. Instead, James quietly sat there, curiously looking at a constellation that must seem very odd to him.

James! Over here! she called. He made no effort to obey.

James, come here! We're leaving! she ordered with more determination. But there was no response. More and more, she felt uneasy.

So, now you want to leave?

Her chance acquaintance stopped caressing the blackbird and carefully laid his hand on James's head. Sophie couldn't believe her eyes: The bird hopped down across the folds of the man's overcoat and finally came to rest between his fingers on James's head.

So courageous a minute ago, and now suddenly intimidated by a little bird … He pulled his hand back. Sophie was perplexed to see how James carefully - as to make sure the bird wouldn't fall off his head - stood up, turned around and slowly trotted over to her. When he had arrived, he half circled her and finally sat by her side. Sophie looked down to him and saw him pant with content. The blackbird swayed on the dog's broad head, looking up at her, while James didn't seem to care. Sophie wondered whether she should pinch herself.

By now at the latest, I would have thought you might move as far away from me as possible.

Sophie swallowed heavily but she didn't see why she should allow him to get rid of her with that trick.

Only because you have trained a bird and persuaded my dog to carry it around like a hat? she countered, realizing how little self-confidence she was showing. She was not at all happy about that.

I don't see what should be so dangerous about it, she said, touching the bird's cool feathers with shaking fingertips. She secretly cursed herself. At first, the bird seemed to move back a bit, and she thought it might fly away. But then it leaned toward her, very slightly pressing its little body against her knuckels. She could feel its rapidly beating heart and the constant twitching of its muscles.

Again, she gave a doubtful look at the man. Now she noticed that in addition to his obvious sadness and desperation, a third look had appeared in his face. A look Sophie ranked somewhere between surprised respect and unwelcome confusion. A lone tear was rolling down his cheek, and Sophie felt a cold stab in her chest.

Why are you sitting here…? I mean, on a Sunday afternoon in the Municipal Park. Without an umbrella in this horrible weather? she dared to venture again, trying to avoid the interesting questions that were now burning inside her. Such as: How in hell did you just do that? Now he took his eyes off her and looked into the woods as if he could find an answer there.

I have lost something, he announced as quietly as if he wanted to confess something to the trees and to Sophie.

Even though it was hard not to be distracted by the bird, who now cuddled with her hand as insistently as a kitten, Sophie didn't take her eyes off the man.

If you're feeling that bad, it must have been something important, she said.

You don't have the slightest idea, he countered, lowering his head again.

Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, she said. In the twenty-seven years of my life, I have lost all important things at least twice: my purse, my cell phone, my front door key, my car keys, my dignity… Sophie stopped short, asking herself why she was again talking faster than she was thinking. And from my experience I can tell you that two helping hands usually make the search successful. She clapped her hands, causing the bird to twitter in complaint. Now… to help you get out of the rain and to get you into some dry clothes: What are we looking for?"

He turned to her again with a sad look. Listen, even though it really makes me curious why my blackbird allowed you to touch it, you can't help me. You cannot find what I'm looking for. It is completely impossible. So thanks for the offer, but forget it.

Your blackbird? Did you really train it or something? Is it kind of a pet?

No, it isn't, he replied. "It was just a manner of speaking. Of course, it isn't my blackbird. It's just any old blackbird that happened to sit on a nearby branch." He shook his head, annoyed.

I see. And you're a sorcerer who scares me by having this bond with birds and with the pets belonging to other people?

If that is what would finally satisfy you.

Although Sophie knew that really none of this was of any concern to her, she turned bitchy. A blast of wind went through the tree tops, but didn't reach the lower branches under which they were. Only the rustling disrupted the silence for a moment.

No, that doesn't satisfy me.

And why doesn't that surprise me? he asked, resigned.

How do I know? But I won't leave you alone until you at least explain how you're doing that thing with the bird. What do you think I'll do when I get home now? Will I believe I'm at a stage where I see ghosts?

Maybe that would be a lesson for you not to talk to strangers in a park in the evening. Do you do that often?

No, but I happen to be helpful, Sophie countered, and that's why I simply wanted to stand by you and see what the matter is. If I were sitting alone in the rain, crying, I would prefer if someone would pay attention to me and that I wouldn't be all by myself!

The man gave a short sob that showed how exhausted he was. He shook himself and stood up.

Perhaps Sophie only imagined it, but it seemed that the branches of the trees around him were bending down a little as he straightened out. As if they wanted to reach him with their twigs. It was minimal, but quite visible for Sophie.

Instinctively, she moved back a few steps. Her retriever gave her a sceptical look. He had stayed where he was, as if the stranger and the blackbird sitting on his own head were quite normal. Sophie's goose bumps intensified, and she clasped her umbrella so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Yet something was stopping her from running away. She wondered why she couldn't act reasonably on this occasion.

When he was standing, Sophie noted that he was taller than she had expected. He moved slowly as he walked over to her. He was actually pulling the tree branches along, giving the impression that a shallow, barely visible wave of leaves was following him. Sophie stayed where she was. So carefully did the man set his feet on the ground that she wondered whether he might be afraid of destroying something. She inhaled the cool moist air through her open mouth and waited for this elegant apparition to come to a standstill hardly an arm's length away from her. His eyes of different colour were glazed over, reflecting her tense face.

James had also stood up again and now sat down next to the man, on the old wet foliage, happily wagging his tail. Oh, what a friend, Sophie thought. The bird wobbled on James's head where it was having some trouble holding on to the dog's chocolate-brown fur.

Will you tell me your name? he asked her. She felt his breath as he did. It was pleasantly warm and completely human, which she found somewhat reassuring.

I am Sophie, she replied hesitantly. It sounded as if she weren't a hundred per cent sure. And you?

He tried a friendly smile, which only confused her more.

Even though that is of no concern, my name is Oliver.

Sophie nodded. Why should your name be of no concern? No name is unimportant.

Because soon we will go our separate ways again. You will go your way, and I will stay here, he said, looking at her with a fixed glance.

Not until you tell me what it is with the animals, and also - damn it all - with the trees. I know that I'm not just imagining it! The branches are following you. Or am I completely out of my mind?

"No, Sophie, you're not just imaging it."

She shuddered when he said her name. His voice was firm, but vulnerable at the same time. She saw how much he had to pull himself together to speak with her.

But why are they doing that? I don't understand. And the bird, I …

This time, he interrupted her: Promise me that you will keep going with your dog if I tell you!

Sophie hesitated briefly and wondered what options she had. I promise.

Oliver took a deep breath and sighed. All right …, he said, pulling his shoulders up to his ears, as if for protection. A few seconds passed before he went on.

The trees follow me with their twigs because I am the Fall.

There was a short pause. Sophie wondered whether she had heard him correctly.

Sorry, what did you just say? she queried. Oliver made a face as if he regretted this talk even more than before.

I said that I am the Fall.

The Fall?

Yes.

You're a season?

Yes.

He still looked her firmly in the eyes. Although she gave him a searching look, she could find not a trace of humour in his face.

How do mean you're the Fall? Am I to believe you? she replied.

Well, the bird, the branches … your mind will be unable to include these in its image of the world. I can only suggest that you will at least try. Apart from that, it is unimportant since it isn't part of our deal that you must believe me. We agreed that I will name the reason, and then you will leave me alone.

"Yes, but a logical reason."

Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and looked through Sophie, frustrated.

First of all, this reason is absolutely logical. It is just your horizon that isn't broad enough, he continued, and secondly you can't simply change the rules afterwards. That's not particularly honourable.

I never claimed to be honourable.

Once again, he desperately shook his head.

I have a feeling I'm talking to a child. And anyway, aren't you afraid of me? You know it would have been far better for you to run away. You're a graceful young woman, and in case of doubt, you would be completely at my mercy. Ever think of that? Quite apart from what you have just experienced here, he said tensely. Helpfulness or not. This isn't courage. It's foolishness.

While he snarled at her, Sophie saw that he still seemed to be close to tears. Apparently he still had to control himself not to loose his composure. Obviously he wasn't feeling well. He wasn't simply unfriendly because he was tactless, but because her presence really seemed to bother him.

I wouldn't be helpless against you, she replied as casually as possible, making herself taller. Apart from that, I don't think you would do me any harm. Men who sit crying in the rain on a tree stump don't generally look very threatening, you'll have to admit that. Again a short pause followed during which they both looked at each other quietly.

So you're not afraid of me? My presence doesn't make you feel - how shall I put it - unsafe?

Sophie listened to her emotions. The risky situation into which she had maneuvered herself did bother her, but she really didn't feel unsafe. The only thing that made her curious were the goose bumps that had spread across her entire back and didn't vanish again as normal goose bumps did. But this was not the day when she wanted to allow her long-forgotten lack of selfconfidence come to the surface again.

Unsafe? Why? Because you're the Fall? she asked jokingly.

Oliver looked at her as if she were a little girl that would have to be warned over and over how dangerous it is to cross the street without first looking left and right.

Yes, that's the effect I have on most people.

It's your luck that I am not most people. Sophie hardly believed her ears as she heard herself say that. But Oliver looked as if it didn't surprise him much.

"To be exact, I don't mean most people, but all people. All people feel somewhat insecure in my presence. You may need a bit longer, but you'll find out."

Again, Sophie found this statement a bit unsettling. It wasn't her impression at all that he wanted to tell her a pack of lies.

If it is really true that all people feel lost in your presence, that would be very sad. She felt something contracting in her lower belly. It seemed less and less promising to search the creases of her brain for an explanation of the unusual happenings that had taken place a few minutes ago.

Being the Fall also has its good sides, he said, now speaking more to himself than to her, and I also have to accept some inconveniences once in a while. He bit his lips. Neither the first nor the last part of the sentence seemed to convince Sophie.

You're really serious, are you? Or? This thing about being the Fall?

Yes, completely serious. Again he stared at the ground in resignation.

But if that's true, why are you sitting here in the park, crying? I mean, aren't there better things to do for the Fall? Wouldn't you have to conjure up some storms or something like that? Sophie was hoping that no one happened to stand behind one of the countless trees, listening to their conversation. "Not that it would bother me, but this summer is already unusually long.

Maybe, if you really are the Fall, you should hurry up a bit … "

She hadn't completely ended her sentence when Oliver left abruptly, roughly grazing her shoulder as he passed her.

Hey! she shouted indignantly, turning around her axis, watching him disappear.

*

Without giving her another look, Oliver, whom she hadn't even known five minutes ago, went away, pulling the gentle wave with him through the tree tops. Since he was walking away fast, the many leaves rustled excitedly, bowing with reverence before him only to straighten up again. Sophie flinched when James touched her wrist with his cold snout, loudly whimpering. She looked down at him and saw that the bird was no longer sitting on his head. It didn't seem to please the dog at all. He threw a brief, melancholy look at Oliver before looking at her sadly. Sophie knew this expression very well. It was the same look the charmer gave her when he knew that she had bought a fresh bag of his beloved pig's ears only to hide it in the upper kitchen cupboard. It was the look that said: I'm a dog. I can't open that door, but I know you can. So please have a heart and hurry up!

Sophie kept looking at the quickly disappearing figure, squinting her eyes. She didn't believe in sorcery. Those dreamy times were over for a good reason. Still, she couldn't deny what she had seen. The look in James' eyes was too tragic for her to just stand still. She also walked away. She started running on the slushy walk, getting faster until she was almost jogging. James understood right away and confidently ran ahead, happily panting. Sophie's umbrella teetered as she momentarily clamped the handle under her arm, using the free left hand to pull the left sleeve of her jacket up. A quick look at the watch told her it was shortly before six. She still hadn't finished the cake