Save the Last Bullet for God (4 page)

“Yes…I’m sorry….”

Eldwin stood up, took a last look at
me, and walked away, leaving me alone with my shame. As he
disappeared into the darkness, he stopped and I heard his voice,
“Be here tomorrow at 11 p.m.
You can only check the
file for 10 minutes.”

I spent the time before my meeting with
Eldwin absorbed in my work and carefully staying away from the
women’s ward. When the time got closer, I paced the halls aimlessly
with my pencil and notebook counting the seconds until it was time
to go outside. The old man arrived at the bench late. He sat a
little distance away and slid me the file.

When I realized that an open snuffbox lay
between us, I clumsily placed the yellow pill inside.

“And another tomorrow,” Eldwin said as he
closed the snuffbox and moved it to his pocket.

I nodded absently as I quickly opened the
file and began to read.

Maria Orsic

When I read her name, I felt a pleasurable
ache in my stomach.

October 10, 1895, Zagreb

She was two years older than me. I was
surprised.

Mother is German, from Vienna. Father is
Croatian. First symptoms of antisocial behavior and blunted affect
at the age of 15, a sudden decline in school performance,
indefinite leave from school. First reported delusions at the age
of 17 along with persistent attempts to persuade others of their
veracity. Displays of aggressive behavior in conjunction with the
delusions, accompanied by periods of moodiness. Delusions of
supernatural creatures and extra-terrestrial communities. Patient
talks of having contact and exchanges of information with these
imagined entities.

I tried to read faster as the old man moved
to take the file and leave. As the file was taken from my hands, I
glimpsed the last line.

Likely diagnosis: severe paranoid
schizophrenia.

The old man left, and I remained, stunned and
alone.

In denial and in love, I grasped for strands
of hope. I was sure that those details were all wrong. I knew it.
With all the negatives I’d just read, how could I have been that
hopeful and happy? I must also have been delusional. But,
regardless, I wanted to prove it all wrong, to be the prince on a
white horse saving the princess from the fortress.

That night, I turned over and over in bed,
trying to sleep. I had to talk to Maria.

The next day, even though I couldn’t eat, I
stepped into the bakery and bought a small cream cake and a small
bar of chocolate. I stopped at the flower shop nearby and picked up
a small bunch of wildflowers. As I went skipping into the hospital,
I couldn’t make up my mind on how to carry the flowers or where to
put them.

I carefully placed my purchases in the
cabinet of the nurses’ room and put on my hospital uniform. After
standing in front of the mirror and parting and re-parting my hair
several times, I gave up and left the office.

When I saw Eldwin, I quietly approached him
and politely put my payment of one pill in his pocket. Not looking
back, I strode down the hallway, intent on finishing my rounds as
quickly as possible.

…

At long last, the tranquility of night fell
upon the hospital. I did my best to suppress a little smile as I
set off for the women’s ward with the cream cake in my hand, the
chocolate in my pocket, and the flowers cleverly stowed under my
coat. I had a short conversation with the nurses at the desk and
presented them with the cream cake, saying, “I felt like sharing
this with you.” Then, I detoured into Room 16 and wandered around
killing time. I tried to amuse myself by rehearsing what I would
say. When I thought it was late enough, I left the room.

Trying to remain calm and controlled, I
opened the door of Room 17. My heart lurched in my chest as my eyes
scanned around uselessly until they grew accustomed to the dark. I
felt a deep sense of relief when I saw the bed by the window. Maria
was there, awake, and looking outside again. It seemed there was no
one else in the room. I headed directly toward her. She turned her
face to me, and out of the darkness, I saw a little smile.

“Well . . . Hi, how are you?” I said.

“I’m fine. It has been four nights and two
days, you know?”

I set two coffee cups on the table next to
the bed, and I took the vase and flowers from under my coat and
handed them to her, smiling. Her elegant hands took the flowers out
of the paper and put them inside the vase with slow, but
deliberate, movements.

I sat and Maria and I stared at the darkened
sky beyond the barred window catching glimpses of small stars
beyond the trees. We sat in silence sipping warm coffee and pulling
pieces of chocolate from the creased foil between us. The only
disturbance that night was the delirious muttering of the old woman
in the next bed sleeping with her eyes open.The whole experience
seemed forbidden, as if, at any moment, the spell might be broken.
I could barely look at the beautiful girl next to me. I just
remained still and savored the sound of her breathing.

“Can you tell me something?” I asked in a low
voice.

“What?” she answered quietly after a long
silence.

“Is it true that those from the outer world
talk to you?”

“I . . . I’m scared, and . . . how can I say
. . . whomever I try to tell, even my closest friends and family,
cast me away. They don’t believe me; they even get angry with me.
It is all my imagination, they say. I want to hold on to life and
live on without telling anyone anything. If it’s possible . . .
yes, if it’s possible, I don’t want to see these delusions anymore.
You never know how bad it makes you feel when the person right next
to you doesn’t see or hear the same things as you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’m tired of wondering whether I’m the only
one who hears a sound. How can you describe the smells, colors, and
sounds in your head? How can you explain this to someone else? I
look at the moon and I say, ‘It’s there,’ but I don’t believe in it
until I ask you and you confirm ‘Yes, the moon is really there.’
And if you say ‘I don’t see it,’ I must reluctantly accept that
what I see as the moon is not there. Does everything exist because
we perceive it? If so, then it does not exist if we don’t perceive
it.”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“Are there people who think like that?” Her
face turned to mine.

“I think so . . .,” I said, trying to
encourage her. “I read a few articles about quantum physics but
it’s not a subject that I have a solid grasp of. I would need to do
research to talk about it with any confidence.”

“Think. If the world and everything else
exists just because we perceive them . . .”

“Then by the same logic, what you see and
what other people call a delusion must exist,” I suggested.

“Yes, I was trying to say the same thing.
What I perceive exists, and the only difference in my reality is
that you do not include it within your reality.”

She was now excited and speaking quickly.

“And I exist because you see me, and you
exist because I perceive you . . .” I said, smiling and hoping to
move the conversation to us.

“Four days and three nights,” she said.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“
I’m tired, and I want to
sleep.”

“Oh, yes, of course . . . sorry.” I was
disappointed, but I helped her to lie down.

“Thank you for the flowers and everything
else,” she said before closing her eyes.

I covered her and collected the foil that had
fallen to the floor. I lightly caressed her hair, hoping she would
open her eyes, but she was fast asleep.

. . .

In the morning, I skipped class again, and
spent the day reading books until my brain exploded. When I arrived
at the hospital in the evening, I struggled to finish my work in a
hurry. Going into the women’s ward, I avoided the nurses’ desk and
headed straight for Room 17.

When I approached Maria’s bed, I noted the
faint smell of flowers from the vase beside her bed and a wild joy
filled my soul. Maria was sleeping peacefully with her mouth
slightly open and her blonde hair scattered about her head. I
noticed the perfect lines of her body and it seemed as if she
didn’t belong to this world. Maria moved a bit and opened her eyes.
She looked around before she noticed me.

Snuggling under her blanket, she asked, “Is
that you?”

“Yes, it’s me, and I exist because you’re
looking at me now,” I said with a wink.

She gave a little smile that lit up her
face.

“I’m so tired. . . . It must be the medicine.
. . . My mouth is so dry. . . . Can you get me some water?”

I brought the water and helped her sit up to
drink it. I felt like protecting her.

“You need to sleep now,” I said.

“No, don’t go. . . . Stay a bit. Just tell me
about something. . . . When I fall asleep, then you can go,
okay?”

I caressed her pale cheek and sat beside her
on the bed.

“What should I tell you about? I read a lot
of things about quantum physics in the library today. Would you
like to hear about that?”

“No, no . . . Let’s talk about simple things
that will not wear out my mind. Tell me a story . . . I promise
you, I’ll fall sleep quickly.”

I thought back to my childhood and remembered
a story I had heard long ago.

“In ancient times, 5,000 years ago, a
community called the Sumerians lived in the southeast part of the
Ottoman Empire, in Mesopotamia. A German archeologist by the name
of Robert Johann Koldewey discovered their civilization and
researched them . . .”

“Koldewey . . .”

“He was an archaeologist interested in the
Sumerians.”

“The Sumerians, Koldewey . . . Sorry to
interrupt.”

“You can ask questions. I like to hear your
voice,” I said smiling at her.

“When I was a child, living in a
farmhouse,” I continued, “Professor Koldewey’s son came to our home
and gave me private lessons for a while. That’s why I’m interested
in this subject. Where the people came from is unknown, and there
is little information about how they disappeared. It is thought
that they came from faraway lands in the Middle East and settled
5,000 years ago in the territory between the two great rivers. They
had their own written language. They were advanced in mathematics
and astrology. They even created the
Epic
of Gilgamesh
, which people still read today.
But…”

“What?” she asked.

“Well, there are strange rumors that their
gods came from outer space. From faraway planets.”

Maria opened her eyes again. “What planets?”
she asked.

“Planets far away. The alien gods came and
taught these people to plant and even to make bread and brew beer.
Our concepts of 360 degrees, 12 months in a year, and a lot of
other mathematical laws were transmitted from the aliens to the
Sumerians and from the Sumerians to us. The race of alien gods
mixed with these people and interfered with the development of the
human race. That’s how we came to exist.”

“How did they get here?”

“There was one god and he came from a planet
that once passed close to ours. Marduc, I think. When it was close,
the aliens would come down to Earth. That’s how it must have been,
I think.”

“You don’t know?”

“I heard these things a long time ago and
I’ve forgotten a lot.”

“What about when the planets are far
away?”

“I’m not sure. But I imagine there are radio
waves. We can’t see them, but we can hear them with instruments.
Maybe the far-away aliens can reach us in a similar way.”

“Can they make such an instrument…or
communicate with someone who understands their energy and what they
say?” Maria asked quietly. It was as if she were talking to
herself.

“Yes, why not?” I answered without
thinking.

“So you believe me?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Maybe those who talk to me are the aliens
from those faraway planets who have been trying to get in touch
with humanity. Our alien ancestors…”

“I thought you’d just listen and sleep,” I
said, smiling.

“Wilhelm…” It was the first time she’d said
my name and it set me on fire.

“Yes?”

“The medicine I take makes me feel so bad. I
cannot be myself. I want to be okay, like you, like everyone else…I
cannot tell them. You’re the only one I trust…please don’t let them
hurt me.”

“Maria, you’re very tired. Just sleep. I
promise I’ll stay with you.”

She snuggled under the blanket again, and I
waited by her bedside until she fell asleep. I felt a great
tenderness toward her and I was full of excitement. But I also felt
a touch of anger. I knew I couldn’t let her be hurt by the wrong
treatment.

…

The next day, I found myself at Dr. Huber’s
door. I learned from his secretary that he’d come back from his
rounds and was in a psychotherapy session. I waited on the sofa for
what seemed an unendurable amount of time. Finally, the door opened
and Maria left the doctor’s office. She didn’t see me at first, but
even that ridiculous hospital gown couldn’t hide her magnificent
beauty. Her face was pale and she noticed me only when I made room
for her to pass by. She greeted me with her wry smile.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her until the
secretary reminded me that the doctor was waiting for me.

The office was simply furnished and very dim.
Under the yellow light of a lamp sat Doctor Hubert—a middle aged
man with a bushy, long moustache full of gray hair, and tired brown
eyes. He indicated the armchair with his hand but his mind seemed
elsewhere.

“How can I help you?” he asked absently.

“Well, I…I’ve been working as a caretaker in
the hospital for a while, but I’m a medical student at the
University of Vienna.”