Ceremony (10.10.2000)
The trail was worn and hollowed by many travels, yet the grass grew at its edge much the same way as it does at the bank of a river. He walked on, taking in the scent of the small flowering trees that grew thickly on both sides. It seemed as though the magnificent gardener planted an orchard right at the foot of the mountain. Wasps whizzed from blooming flower to blooming flower like treasure hunters in a secret cave of gold, leaving the sweet dust to linger in the air. The trenched out path combined with the flowering overgrowth created the sense of a tunnel with rays of blues and yellows and greens at the end.
At last the traveler reached the closing, and as he stepped out into the clearing, a great cliff jutted out to is right side—towering like a monolith, contradicting the spontaneity of its appearance. The mountain seemed as though the great potter made a pail and cut it in two, leaving one half as an example of the technique. The inside of the pail sloped down gently, still snow covered at its higher point, but wearing a skirt of green leaves attached to the stems of white, red, and purple flowers lower down.
~~~
“Be still,” urged the little boy’s mother, her tension revealed in her voice.
“I don’t know why they’re slowing down,” a man by the window said quietly, raising an eyebrow. The train stopped. The little boy looked at his mother with terrified eyes while grabbing her coat with his feeble hand.
“Will they take me away mom?” he whimpered.
“Of course not, hon,” she tried to reassure, “I would never let them.” The man was looking through the windows, searching for something.
“I think I can see the wall from here. They shouldn’t be stopping so close to the border. Something’s not right.” Voices suddenly rang out in the train car’s corridor. Quick and impatient the German words came. Suddenly the door slid open, an officer in a gray uniform appeared and, “Ihre papiere!” he commanded. The entire cabin broke out in a bustle as everyone searched for their passports and any other documents which they thought might validate the legitimacy of their presence.
“Schnell, schnell!” the German officer shouted. Five hands held out papers as if they were offerings to appease the angry god.
~~~
The traveler’s eyes wandered down the side of the pail, down to the green, white, red, and purple skirt, and lower. There, in the middle of the valley in which he found himself, two small lakes enjoyed the afternoon sun. It was as though the great decorator placed two oval mirrors on the ground to be hung up and forgot them there; or perhaps they looked good there, and the great decorator decided to leave them that way. Much like any mirror reflects, so too did these. The blue, cloud speckled sky was reflected in the clarity of their surface.
The traveler walked forward amidst the lush and soft grass, all the way to the water’s edge. The sun was still bathing the orchard, the half-pail, to be finally reflected in the mirrors. He went down on his knees, removed his bandana, and washed his face in the glass of the water before him. He drank the water too, and it was cool and rejuvenating as he partook of the ceremony. When he washed his bandana in it, another traveler came to the mirror—this one worn with many suns. He put on the wet bandana back on his forehead as the newcomer sat down with a sigh by the water to engage in the same ritual. The old traveler went through his motions, as the young one laid down on the grass and leaned his head against the base of a small, thick tree.
~~~
He took the documents impatiently and walked out just as hurriedly, at which the little boy became convinced that hey would never be able to leave again since the soldier took all their papers. By this time the man sitting by the window was biting his fingernails nervously.
“See, I knew something wasn’t right. They don’t usually stop to check papers at this border,” ideas were rampant in his mind, “I mean they checked them at the Polish border already, why would they have to check them at the West-German border again?”
“Everything’s okay hon,” the woman assured the little boy again, “everything’s going to be all right.” But the little boy’s eyes were not entirely convinced. After all, they didn’t have their papers.
The people on the opposite side of the cabin were quiet. There was a man with a daughter, and another man. The two men were brothers, which would make the second man the girl’s uncle. Both were middle-aged, and the girl was in her teens. They hadn’t spoken much the entire time they were on the train. The little boy wondered why they were so quiet all the time. At that moment, he saw their heads turn towards the door as it slid open with a loud shhhh-thud. The officer in the gray uniform and the stern look on his face handed out the passports quickly, stepped out, slid the door shut with he same noise, and marched off. His shouting voice was still heard in the distance as he commanded with those sharp German phonetics. Then a release of the steam by the engine, and in rhythm the train began to move slowly. The entire cabin had just lost one half of its pressure.
“See,” the man by the window began once more as he raised his eyebrow, “I knew they shouldn’t have stopped this early. That damn Schwab knew it too, I could tell. That’s why he gave those papers back so quick, he just wanted to scare us a little. You know how them Schwabs are; damn sadists.” The father gave him a passing glance and then the man lowered his eyebrow and turned his head towards the window as the little boy saw him running through the passing gray buildings.
“I know how they are when they’re really checking your papers, it takes them an eternity” he spoke again half to himself, “They think they’re so damn efficient and organized, but I tell you, when it comes to do something for someone else, they just stupid Schwabs.” The man by the window was an expert on Cold War culture.
~~~
The two travelers were resting without having spoken a word to each other. After having laid there for some time, the old one took to his pack and produced some sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil.
“It’s a good time to eat before we go on,” said the old one and gave two sandwiches to the young one.
“Good idea,” said the young one, “I’ll fill up our canteens, too.” He took both canteens to the mirror’s water and filled them with ceremony. He then returned and sat down to eat his sandwiches. The old traveler took out the map and examined the route.
“How far to the town?” the young one said with food in his mouth.
“Two hours, maybe less,” the old one was thinking, “that should give us plenty of time to catch the train back home, too.” The young one nodded in agreement.
Moments later as the two travelers got ready to be off once more, the young one took out his camera. He took a picture of the half-pail with its skirt of flowers. He also photographed the orchard with its treasure hunters, the wasps. And he took a picture of the mirror lakes as he stood on a rock. He knew that this was the denouement of the journey. But he also knew that this was what it was all building towards. For five days they traversed the mountain, walking all day, and almost dying on the bed at each lodge they came to at night. It seemed a mistake after the first day of blisters and horribly aching muscles. It most certainly seemed that he would never do this again unless his life depended on it by the fourth day. Though after having seen the half-pail, the orchard, and the mirrors, he would go through it again thrice only to see this.
He put his camera back in his pack and walked up the trial. Communion was consummated and mass was coming to an end. At last the Holy Grail had been secured and the crusaders could embark on the return journey. They both walked in silence, knowing that it would not be long now.
~~~
Past many tunnels, past the Berlin Wall, and on the other side, in the West, the train trotted pleasantly; the tensions of the gray and ghostly shapes of the East shrugged off and released. The engine rolled into the station finally, and this stop was a welcome one. The little boy stood up and looked through the window of the train car. People were all over the station. People dressed in so many different and colorful clothes, the likes of which he had never quite seen before. The woman pulled the little boy back.
“We have to get ready now,” she spoke, “they‘re waiting for us.” The man that sat by the window took his suitcase down from the overhead shelf.
“Good luck to all of you, and good bye,” he said smiling and walked out. The father, and young girl, and her uncle, all were only slowly getting their luggage. The little boy looked at them and couldn’t understand how they were able to stand being in this dingy train car any longer. Yet there they were, just barely getting up, they seemed like robots, or marionettes to the little boy. He was only too happy to leave the cabin, walk out into the corridor, and down those metal grid steps. Out of the train and onto solid ground, he felt that this was real because he could stand on it and it wasn’t moving.
The mother led the little boy by the hand through this incredible mass of people walking each and every way; all sorts of people. Women and men, big ones, small ones, light and dark ones, and thin and tall ones too. So many different people. There was a man standing by the wall with a sign in his hand that read “Wisniowski,” and the woman walked towards it. The little boy looked at the man curiously. The woman shook the man’s hand, and then the man looked down at the little boy, and put his hand into the left pocket of his jacket to search for something.
“Hey there little guy, how was the train ride?” said the man with the sign, grinning with his white teeth as he gave the little boy a lollipop.
“Thank you,” said the little boy quietly, taking the lollipop. He unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth. It tasted sweet and rich, and this was the sure sign of what his mother said before, that everything is going to be all right.
~~~
At the train station the two travelers boarded the train heading for Wroclaw. They went into the cabin that was least populated, with one man sitting by the window.
“Hello,” said the man by the window as they entered, raising an eyebrow, and they replied likewise. The young one put up his pack onto the overhead shelf, but kept his canteen, and sat down. The older traveler went through the motions. After a few moments, steam was released by the engine, and the afternoon train began it’s rolling into the North. As the train moved slowly, the young one opened his canteen and drank of the ceremony. He looked out the window, and saw a man grinning with white teeth handing a lollipop to a little boy. The young one grinned too, and took another drink of the ceremony. It tasted sweet and rich, and this was the sure sign of what the aching legs were saying now, that everything is going to be all right.
