Somewhere! (Hunaak!)

by Abbas, Ibraheem

  “Husam… That Piña Colada was poisoned!”

  (6)

  My brain is racing me

  I just noticed a very strange thing here that I had not noticed since I found myself in this place. There were no indicators of time! I am sure that I have spent hours here; maybe even days stuck in this place. I had not noticed anything that hinted the passing of time. I looked at the Yacht-Master, it was not moving! No trace of the Sun in the sky, yet this was all lit with a soft light similar to the light that comes through clouds. I also notice that it never gets dark at night here. The sky’s lights sometimes dim a little and turn into a crimson hue but only for a short time before it all lit up again!

  I was almost certain that this was a virtual city. With all of these technologies, I would not be surprised if it turned out that the sky is but an enormous crystal dome that someone was controlling and that its lit from the outside. Most probably, it was the same place that Malak came from, or Khaled? It might be the same place after all! Malak and Khaled do know a lot about me, yet Khaled seemed interested in returning me back to my world. I must get to you Khaled, I must!

  I know you must be mocking my thoughts right now, you might even accuse me of hallucination or even lunacy, and the reason is simple: you had not ben through what I have for you to judge me! I am very fortunate, with all that is going on around me I still maintain sanity… I think!

  Thoughts were racing through my brain as we were on the yacht. Malak did not play her flute for me nor did I play the piano for her. The tension in the air only allowed the symphony of silence to endure.

  When we arrived at my tower, Malak did not bid me farewell in her usual cheerfulness. She was still clearly agitated. The yacht departed with her onboard the moment that I walked off of it. I chased her with my eyes looking for a smile, but she managed to flee with her face and emotions as the yacht drifted further and further.

  I went up to my room and was surprised to find that everything has returned to the way it was exactly. The bed was made; the bathroom cleaned and even the small coffee shop returned to the way it was. It had also been refilled with even more tasty chocolate replacing the ones I had demolished.

  There was a table that was waiting for me with plates covered with golden covers. As I raised them, aromas came steaming out tickling my salivary glands. It was a plate of cream and mushroom fettuccine pasta topped with thin fresh slices of parmesan cheese. Basil leaves surrounded it along with cherry tomatoes. Next to the plates stood bottles of oil and vinegar along with a large elegant wooden pepper crusher. I had always wished to own one of these toys! I remember that the only bottle that I ever had decorating my kitchen table was the hot sauce. I remember that I was addicted to adding it to almost everything I ate, and the mere existence of any other bottled condiment was a crazy act of indulgence that would rarely repeat itself.

  The table was set for two, I think Malak was planning to have dinner with me, but she had departed because of her anxiety. My class and etiquette could not resist the temptation, so I devoured my plate, I then relinquished what etiquette I had left and finished off Malak’s plate as well! I moved towards the fridge and snagged a bottle of Coca Cola Classic; this was much larger than the tiny bottles that I knew. I then grabbed a few giant Snickers bars and gobbled one of them even before I sat up straight on my comfortable court. A screen came out, but the menu was different this time around, as four waving country flags appeared: Germany, Italy, China and Japan. Malak must have prepared a special program for me to lean the languages; I shall start with German as agreed. I pulled out my pen and paper to write down my notes and chose the flag with stripes of black, red and yellow, suddenly the screen in front of me vanished, all the curtains went up and the balcony’s glass along with the room’s roof turned into a screen emitting live three dimensional images around me.

  “Mr. Husam, welcome to the German Language Program. We ask you to relax and contemplate for the next few hours” — an avatar of a lovely blonde woman in holographic form said .

  I wrote a few notes at the start but the flux of information did not give me the time to write anything else. The sentences would float in front of me in German with all of their meanings and common uses. They’d appear in front of them in Arabic, with every sentence followed by a complete scene of people using it, everything was happening so fast! Nonstop scenes were happening all around me and my court would rotate right and left to follow the scene’s events. What was astonishing was the fact that my mind was devouring everything with speed and was hungry for more, after a while the Arabic translations were becoming fewer and fewer until it was gone all together and everything was now in pure German language. The scenes of important German heritage sites became more prominent. I spent hours studying them. I was a bit startled when the blonde holographic avatar reappeared in front of me.

  “Mr. Husam, I hope you had enjoyed our tour” — the avatar said.

  “I sure did, very much” — I added.

  “Schönen Tag” — I said in fluent German as she dissipated.

  “Schönen Tag!” — the avatar replied before disappearing.

  At that moment I heard Malak’s voice:

  “Husam, can I enter?”

  She did not wait for my answer but she stormed into the room and — allow me to describe her in a hurry this time: imagine, if you would, a princes of one of the European kingdoms that came out of a portrait to form in the real world, with a huge difference in beauty. The necklace that I had gifted her was now dangling over her forehead. If that diamond’s beauty had increased when she wore it next to her cleavage, then its beauty had increased a thousand folds when she placed it between her eyes!

  She lifted her puffy dress as not to trip on it as she ran towards me.

  “Did you like the pasta?” — she asked just as she glanced at the empty plates.

  I was torn with shame as I tried to justify my impudence but she spoke before I did:

  “Glad you enjoyed it… I wasn’t really hungry any way”

  I tried to patch up the situation speeding towards the chocolates and handing her a Bounty. As she took it from me to avoid further embarrassment, I added:

  “Guten Appetit!” — trying to show off my German.

  “I forgot to tell you that you will learn Italian as well” — Malak responded, also in German.

  “Simple! I will learn it in a few hours by tomorrow!” — I responded and continued talking in German with a deep Berlin accent.

  “You must learn it now! In a few short minutes! The schedule has changed a bit, you will meet with Mr. Leo today” — Malak exclaimed.

  “But why?” — I asked.

  “I had a chat with Mr. Leo and he has informed me of what he is planning to teach you. It is vital that you meet with him before the others!” — She added.

  She suddenly jumped onto my court. OK! I will let this one go… this time only! She gathered her dress that now covered the entire court and asked me to sit next to her. I sinked between the court and the dress as she started controlling the programs. I quickly glanced at the side of her face that was now covered with magical seriousness and I whispered:

  “By the way, the diamond is now even more beautiful between your eyes!” — I said.

  “Truly?! Do you like it? Then I shall ware it this way all the time for you” — she answered like a jubilant child with her new toy.

  “Had I known that, I would have gotten you all of the jewelry in that mall” — I added.

  “I wore it this way today for two reasons: first to match the style of dress of the ladies of the fifteenth century” — she said while trying to avoid blushing.

  “And the second?” — I asked as I gazed up on her like a wanderer.

  “The second is more important. I want to show off my beloved gift in front of everyone. Here it will be clear for everyone to see! Do you understand? Come on, let us get to work!”

  She chose Italy’s flag from the three dimensional space, and a new
holographic female avatar beauty appeared. She seemed to be a mix of Arabian and European beauty.

  “Wow, each country has a different girl!” — I said.

  She poked me painfully with her elbow in my ribs with a manner that does not match her gentle features.

  “You are not allowed to focus on the girls! Understood?!” — she said with clear anger.

  “Are you jealous from a virtual hologram image?” — I jokingly asked Malak.

  “I am jealous of anything that ends with a knotted tee!” — she said.

  “What about a bended ‘A’?” — I said while deliberately wanting to provoke her

  My wit’s tax this time was an even stronger poke than the last, as these two letters at the end of a word in Arabic usually indicate the feminine.

  As I heard her elbow’s crackle with my rib and the pain this time forced me to behave myself and shut up while I watched her jump between options with speed and skill; she was removing the detailed sections and leaving me with only the more important parts, we were rotating together along with the whole court just as if we were at the fair. To be honest, I was not paying much attention to the information as much as I was to Malak’s features that are even more beautiful when she is so serious! After a few minutes of practice, I was now a master of Italian.

  “This is enough. We must move fast, we can’t keep Mr. Leo waiting any longer!” — Malak said.

  “Do I have to change? Do you think I could find Lucie, the fifteenth suit in my dressing room, to match the style of that dress you are wearing?” — I asked.

  She responded with a fast-paced Italian:

  “And what does Lucie have to do with Italy? You must wear the most fabulous Milano outfit!”

  Historic attire was awaiting me in the dressing room; I had to ask for Malak’s help to put on the attire of seven pieces not counting the hat and cape! God bless you my jeans and shirt!

  As we left the building, we looked as if we had just come out of the folds of one of the books of legend or a scene of a historic movie. A luxurious wagon with golden epigraphy was waiting for us with four horses up front. I helped duchess Malak up the wagon and followed her into the wagon just as we got on our way. As we left the water stream, the horses raced off into the green fields. The view was truly astonishing!

  The land’s greenery and the blue skies only embraced in the horizon. Only a few scattered huts here and there would break that embrace; it was a strange contrast with the technological wonders of this place!

  A towering plateau appeared in front of us and a castle that resembled the ones I had seen in Disney princess movies was visible. That castle was our destination, our wagon cut through the gates and stopped in its amazing gardens. The foliage climbed through the castle’s walls and towers decorating them with its flowers. We stood at the tower’s door and Malak knocked the door.

  “Mr. Leo are you here?” — Malak said in Italian.

  No one answered but we could both hear the sound of a mesmerizing guitar that was playing inside. As Malak slowly pushed the door, an enormous hall was revealed before our eyes. This place was a studio for all specialties. There were scattered sculptures, paintings of all sizes, prototypes, mechanical & engineering drawings and at the center of all of that sat Mr. Leo. I was unable to see his face as it was covered by the painting he was actively working on. Next to him was a musician playing the harp with such skill and elegance,.

  “I will pick you up when you are done!” — Malak whispered to my ears.

  “Wait a minute where are you going? Are you leaving me with him? ….alone?” — I asked.

  “Do not be afraid! He will not eat you! Just learn everything from him!” — She said.

  As Malak left, she pulled the door slowly so that she would not disrupt Mr. Leo’s concentration. Nonetheless, the walls echoed the sound of the wooden door closing… damn it!

  I got closer to Mr. Leo and the musician and sat in a small chair that I found nearby. My eyes wondered around the place staring at every intricate detail. I forced my brain to remember, but I was certain that I had never seen Mr. Leo before! He was a handsome man and his age was only given up by the silver hairs that had invaded his head and beard. I contemplated everything around me for what seemed to be an eternity. I started to think that he had not noticed me. As the musician played in a rhythm that reflected Mr. Leo’s mood, it would speed up or slowing down, flowing smoothly or tensely, the girls gaze was locked onto Mr. Leo’s face as she flirted with her harp’s chords as if she was playing his nerves. As I got tired of fidgeting in my seat, I stood up and strolled around the place. As I got closer to Mr. Leo slowly and carefully… I looked over his shoulder to take a peek at the painting he was working on.

  Oh my God! I remembered it! This was the Mona Lisa! It had subtle differences from the Mona Lisa that I knew. It was much clearer and brighter; it was full of life and had considerably more details!

  “Da Vinci!” — I exclaimed.

  Mr. Leo stopped painting and the musician too stopped playing. He slowly turned towards me as if I had committed a heinous crime.

  “My name in Leonardo!” — He exclaimed

  “Yes Sir, I know you! Leonardo da Vinci!” — I said.

  “I prefer you call me Leonardo, da Vinci is not a name, but a title they placed on me when my father refused to associate me with his family! So they associated me with the Vinci village as they do foundlings” — Mr. Leonardo explained.

  “Excuse me Mr. Leonardo, I did not know. What is important is that I remembered! I remembered your painting! The Mona Lisa!” — I said with joy.

  “You still insist that! She is ‘La Gioconda Lisa’!” — Mr. Leornardo mumbled it to himself as he went back into the painting and added a few final touches to her eyes.

  “And what does it matter if it was La Gioconda Lisa Gherardini, Isabel De Aragon, Cecilia Gallerani or Costanza d'Avalos… or a portrait of me personally? Who cares about a bunch of miserable aristocrats? The painting is more important than me or them! We wither, vanish and are forgotten, but our work remains!” — Mr. Leonardo whispered while remaining extremely focused.

  Mr. Leonardo put aside the brush and studied his painting for a moment before he stood up.

  “Are you done?” — I asked him.

  “Done adding some details. Ingenuity is a voyage that starts but does not end!” — he added.

  “But, surely, you must finish the painting someday?” — I asked.

  “Ingenuity only stops with death itself! I have never finished any work I had ever started, I only keep improving and adding touches, it is idiocy to think that perfection is possible… at least not in life!” — he exclaimed.

  “Mr. Leonardo, I am truly happy to have this honor. The honor of learning art and drawing from the world’s greatest artist!” — I said.

  I think I uttered complete foolishness that forced his eyes to widen:

  “Art? Drawing? Did you come here to learn how to draw? Because you merely consider me an artist? You can go through art books and videos to become a talented artist if that is what you aspire to!” — he said.

  His response made me squirm.

  “uhhh… I came to learn everything!” — I added.

  “Everything? If you search for everything you will get nothing!” — he said.

  I followed him as he passed one of the tower’s doors going towards the garden.

  “You must know exactly what you are looking for!” — He went on explaining as he pointed towards a few pigeons that gathered underneath a shade of a tree.

  “Can you capture all of these pigeons?” — he asked.

  “No! I must focus, focus on the pigeon that I want to capture” — I said that as the trance of an aspiring student flushed through my veins. As I carefully approached the pigeons, I set my focus on the one that seemed to be the least active. I charged with speed and skill, but all of that did not help, all of the pigeons flew away as I slammed into the tree. I could almost hear the
pigeons giggling gloat along with their clapping wings. I think Mr. Leonardo was in absolute regret! I turned towards him and found him absorbed drawing on a paper. Once he finished, he turned towards me

  “Look! This is what I want you to learn!” — he said.

  “Drawing? Did you not just say that I can learn this from simple tutorials?” — I asked.

  “Husam, focus! I have captured all the pigeons!” — he exclaimed.

  I looked at the drawing, it was an art piece even though he drew it in just a mere moment and with just a coal pen! He drew the entire situation with full detail, the pigeons as they flew away, every pigeons’ movement, every wing flap, every feather, it was like a photograph printed with black ink.

  “What I want you to learn is ingenuity and creativity! This is to utilize God’s greatest gift to you: your brain!” — he said.

  He went on as he paced in his farm while I followed him. I took out my notebook and pen to write down the jewels he had given me. A black horse came towards us and stood next to Mr. Leonardo and leaned with respect as if welcoming our arrival. The horse was shining as if it had been cast from metal, Mr. Leonardo petted the horses neck with the respect that is only given to an intimate old friend.

  “Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Cervello, my dearest friend!” — Mr. Leonardo told me.

  I was intrigued by the horse’s name that meant “brains” in Italian.

  “Mr. Cervello must be the luck horse that was honored to appear in a lot of your work!” — I said trying to showoff my knowledge of Mr. Leonardo’s work.

  “You consider him just a horse! No one understood that I was symbolizing my brain! Our brains, Husam, are like horses. You can set them free and allow them to race the wind or you can tie them to work a plow! Your choice!” — he added.

  “And most people unfortunately tie their horses to plows!” — I added while trying to build on his philosophy.

  “Most people slaughter their horses!” — he added.