Sitting on a seat by the window, I watch with nostalgia the lights of my hometown. How long have I been away from there? Four years? Five years?
Time flies so fast.
But nothing has changed. I was coming back with no success, nothing to boast about. Just my shame at having failed my studies...
It's thanks to my aunt that I decided to come back home after all these years. I, who just wanted to return to relax, I guess I'll have to look for a job to eat. I really miss my years at university, stuck in my student residence during the Covid pandemic...
My parents would tell me I couldn't afford that kind of thing, I couldn't give up all prospects of a future like that and they would've kicked me hard in the butt. But since they were no longer here… I was going to allow it.
Unfortunately, unlike some of my classmates, my parents weren't the richest people in the world. Far from it, even. So I couldn't afford a gap year. But luckily, thanks to the "love of work" they had instilled in me – by force – I managed to hold on through those long years of study until I gained the skills of a professional video editor and could work as a service provider. That will keep me from leaving the house and I'll be bored at home eating pizzas in front of the huge pile of series and films I still have to watch.
Nevertheless, although misfortune never arrives without a touch of relief, I remembered that they had saved up to fulfill their dreams and hopes, but unfortunately, the illness from the Chinese regions carried them away.
It was very sad, but at least I would have something to live on without working… if she's not on my back during my stay.
If I were some anonymous scoundrel, as some like to say, I think I would have used that money to grant myself the privilege of not having to work – I had well earned it after fighting for many years to get my bachelor's degree (with two retakes, mind you) – but she must have already spent it, and as I could guess, she must have made much better use of it than I could have.
It must be said that student life had really worn me out. I just needed to enjoy life in this city where the night never ends: Belii.
Why two i's? I never had the slightest idea, and I'm not passionate enough about history to dive into endless research in search of an answer on that subject. In a way, it was one of my flaws: if it's not useful in the short or medium term, I don't see the point in being interested – that's why I never really clicked with my studies.
The screech of the plane's tires landing on the tarmac snaps me out of my futile reflections, and as with every smooth landing on the ground, the passengers applauded the pilots who had accomplished this miracle – it was understandable after the turbulence we had gone through (I thought several times we'd end up like the Malaysia Airlines plane. Luckily, that didn't happen).
I clear away the crumbs from the pastries offered by the airline and stow my laptop in my bag before heading toward the exit. I nod at the flight attendant who kindly accompanied me to the restroom when I felt unwell during the flight. She responded with a simple wave.
If she had seen me, she would have seen me blush like a tomato in front of her beauty: her long brown hair, her gentle light-green eyes, her fine nose, and her full lips. A combination that could only make my woman-loving heart flutter.
And if she were here, she would have given me a memorable slap for daring to look at another beautiful woman than her. But well, she'd already have to have not forgotten me, my ex‑future fiancée.
Since we had arrived safely, I allow myself to turn my phone back on to send her a message. I don't know if it really mattered to turn it off completely but I picked up that reflex since I watched a documentary series on the biggest catastrophes caused by technology on Netflix. It was stupid since I kept my computer on to watch movies but oh well…
At least if the plane crashes it won't be my phone's fault, I thought, nodding.
I dial her phone number that I had memorized from the time we'd talked, and I was about to announce my return when I changed my mind. The message is written, all the polite phrases are there but… I don't think it's the right time to send a message. Although she usually falls asleep around eleven PM, in five years she must have gotten a job and goes to bed earlier. I'm not going to disturb her for something as insignificant as my return.
I have, in any case, someone more important to contact: my aunt Déa. Unlike my ex‑future fiancée, I don't know her phone number at all, luckily I had written it in my contacts when she contacted me on Facebook… but like an idiot, I lost the note where I wrote it.
I could have put it in my Notes app, I admit, but well, I'm a complete idiot.
Luckily for me, Déa is a much more conscientious and intelligent person than I am: she had literally come to meet me at the arrivals with a huge sign that said "VINCENT" in bold uppercase letters. Like with my mother, only close family call me Vincent, my friends and others usually call me big beta, village idiot, scatterbrain, stinky… or Vince most of the time.
After retrieving my suitcases from the baggage carousel, I head towards my aunt and her big sign with my name in black marker.
— In case you forgot my face and writing down my number.
— Well guessed, Watson, I congratulate her with a laugh.
Without warning, she delivers a blow to my shoulder. After a moment of confusion, I pretend to fold in pain to make her strike believable, but apparently my little act doesn't work since she sighs and shakes her head.
— What humiliation… Not only did you forget to write down my number, but you keep acting like a fool reminding me I don't have the strength to torment you anymore.
— That's life, auntie. Old folks get old, kids get bolder, I tease gently.
— Speak better, kid, she threatens me with her sign, we're only a year apart, you and I. And stop calling me "auntie", I already told you it's worthless given how close we are, she rants. Follow me, the car is in the basement.
— OK auntie! I continue.
Seeing my insubordination, she rolls her eyes and heads toward her Ford C-Max with me trailing behind, laughing like a big whale. I load my bags into the trunk and back seats, then sit in the back on top of my luggage to lie down in peace.
— Come to the front, she orders sharply, plus, do you want me to get a fine with your nonsense?
And I comply without protest.
From the tone of her voice, she intended to throttle me if I continued making fun of her.
I adjust my seat to sit comfortably and maybe fall asleep, but Déa didn't seem to share that opinion.
— Even after a long trip, I'm not allowed a little rest.
— The last time you lay in the back of a car, coming back from a party, you ended up in the windshield, idiot.
— That was eight years ago though, I protest, but… I'll let you keep the point.
— And… it's been six years since we've seen each other, she says, let's take advantage to have a chat, little cousin!
It's true it's been a while since we spoke.
Too busy with my studies to check up? That's a bit of a pitiful excuse, don't you think, given how mediocre that turned out? I hope she won't hold it against me.
— It'll make up for all the times you could've bothered to check in on me, she scolds.
OK. She's still mad at me.
— I'm sorry for…
— It's okay. You probably had priorities back there.
Not at all! Apart from my studies, I wasn't doing anything interesting. My student life boiled down to partying, meeting girls, watching films, series and anime, reading comics and mangas – I made the effort to get back into novels…
What a bad nephew I make...
During the small pause in our conversation, I observe the city I left five years ago: its lights, its crowded streets, its stores still open even though it was pitch dark...
— Nothing's changed since you left, Vince.
At the mention of my name, I turn to her.
— So the Sun never came back to honor us with its light? I mock.
— No. Still not, she laughs.
I didn't mention it, but Belii is one of, if not the only city in the world that has been banished by the Sun. The sun, for reasons unknown to all humanity, no longer wanted to illuminate our city with its light. We only have meager dusks and thin dawns.
Scientists from around the world came to study the city but never found an explanation. It almost changed nothing in our lives: crime was already very low, the whole of Belii was well lit so no dark corner to be attacked… However, strange and inexplicable, plants still carried out photosynthesis… Apparently, Beliiens were simply not permitted sun rays.
Years passed and most scientists left, although some remained in town to study the phenomenon. They are all at the observatory at the other end of the city, but we no longer live in the quarantine of seven years ago. Besides, if I remember correctly, in one of the few articles I read about my hometown, I think there's a girl I spent much of my school years with who now works there.
— You know, says Déa, I don't blame you for fleeing the city and not contacting anyone. Your parents' death must have been a difficult moment, I wish, maybe I should have, been there by your side but I was so young and immature…
— It's nothing, I reassure her, if I blamed you in any way, I wouldn't have come back, nor accepted that we reconnect, auntie, I tell her tapping her shoulder with my fist.
— You're right. I don't want to drive you away now that you've come to rest.
— Is that what I said? I doubt.
— Well yes. Don't tell me you don't remember a conversation that dates less than two months?
— No, it's just that staying more than three months would suit me better…
— More trouble? my aunt asks suspiciously.
— I would have preferred, I sighed, I'm just lost right now…
Déa smiles slyly, she points at the glove box and tells me to take out a box of mikado sticks and pops one in her mouth. Curious, I start scouring every part of the car and discover it's filled to the brim with sweets, reminding me she's quite the glutton.
— If that's all, you reassure me.
— I've grown up, you know.
— I know. I just wanted to be sure of it.
We reach the exit of the old town center and after slipping through a tunnel, we find ourselves on the road to Belii's large beach, offering us a magnificent nocturnal landscape: the Sun is barely visible through the clouds, giving a pastel-pink tint to the sky. This is what we're treated to every morning and night. That the sky never returns doesn't bother me much, it just confirms the city's nickname: "the City of All Dreams." A fantasy town resting place for all the lost souls and dreamers of the world.
And few people think this state of affairs is a curse for the city; it even gives it an otherworldly feel – hence its nickname – but also filled the state coffers through tourism. The sea that shone thanks to our star's fading light made this landscape stunning.
I think I was the only one, the day it happened, who told myself this world would be much more beautiful this way. A selfish vision in itself, but it was only a simple reflection, I don't have the means to recreate reality at will otherwise I wouldn't have just stopped the sun from illuminating us – I would have stopped its course like Joshua so it never returned.
— You're still as amazed by this view, comments Déa.
— That's why you made us take a detour instead of going straight to the farm?
— Yes, to see you smile, little rascal. To remind you that in this town you don't only have bad memories.
She's far too worried about me. Which warms my heart to be spoiled by such a warm aunt, despite my troubled past, but I had to say no, I don't consider Belii as the place of all my woes – even though a large part stems from there but that's because I've always lived there, it would have been the same if I had lived in Los Angeles or Bangkok.
— I'm not that extreme, Déa. Don't think I only keep bad memories of this colorful town.
— The lack of contact you've had with us proves the contrary. Speaking of which, have you kept in touch with your friends?
— I don't really have friends with everything that happened…
— I personally think that's false. But even if it's true, I think water has passed under the bridges since. Ah! We're almost there.
— Almost where? We haven't passed the fields yet though.
— Because you thought you were coming to live at Hector's farm? he shouts, I don't want your parents' house turned into a battlefield…
As she congratulates herself on her pitiful wordplay, she parks in front of a kind of low-rise residence, but the parking lot looked more like an HLM.
— What are we doing here? I ask, you came to see one of your rich dealers?
— You know very well there are no dealers in Belii…, she smiles at me.
— That's true, "there are no dealers in Belii", I repeat miming air quotes with my fingers.
— You're annoying, she grumbles, always reminding me of my faults even though years have passed.
— If I don't do it, who will? Not your coward husband in any case. I'm sure he's not even aware his wife smokes weed to decompress from putting up with such a loser.
— Watch what you say, she warns me.
— You watch so I don't tattle to your parents instead.
— One point each.
— Game, set and match. Anyway, can you explain what we're doing here?
We both get out of the car and approach the wooden gate of this residence; I look to the side and see a sign: "Résidence Menezes." Let me have a moment, while some connections click.
— Is this residence mine? I say, shocked.
— One of the apartments is yours! she announces, the residence belongs to me, she corrects!
— You're serious? I have a room in a huge house and I get stuck with an old room in a residence that belongs to you? You want me to pay barely arrived?
— It's possible that… she begins with a smile.
— Did Hector tell you to get rid of me? Not only does he take my house, my aunt slash cousin, he hates me and on top of that he wants me to pay rent! But tell him to get out of my town!
— Don't speak so loud, she orders me, pinching my lips with her left hand's fingers, Vince, your room will be refurbished into a new bedroom.
— Huh? Why?
Aunt Déa takes my hand and makes me touch her belly. I hadn't noticed but it was rounded, I look up at her and say:
— You've gained weight? Big deal.
— Stop acting like a child.
— How many months?
— Five.
— Damn… We can't stop the process anymore. I don't know if you're aware but in Spain…
— VINCE! Déa explodes, really… You truly can't help yourself… Even if you hate him, you could be happy that…
I grab her arm and press her against me and hug her, stroking her back.
— Congratulations, Déameline. I'm proud of you. Even if I don't understand why you chose that man, I'm happy you're having a child. Especially after all the horrible things you thought about yourself.
Suddenly her anger faded and her voice returned to normal. I hate when we argue and now, I admit, I went too far.
— It's in the past now. I know you and Hector don't get along very well, but I hope during your vacation or this sabbatical year you end up getting along.
— It depends on him. I just hope he won't take the opportunity to throw out my stuff, that nosy fool.
— Don't worry about that, she reassures me, some of your things are in a storage box and what might serve you for entertainment are in your new place.
— You could have had a room built for that little one instead of stealing mine.
— We're saving to buy our own house, she explains me, because, even if your mother, after your father's death, gave it to us since she knew you wouldn't follow their path, I can't see not giving it back to you.
— Stay there as long as you want Déa, I tell her, you need it much more than I do.
— Know that you're welcome, she smiles at me.
— I plan to be welcome: this is home! I joke, by the way… is it a girl or a boy?
— You'll know in time, she teases me.
Déa checks her watch and realizes it's getting late and she has to get back on the road.
— I wanted to show you your new place, but it's getting late…
She rummages in her pockets, pulls out a bunch of keys and tosses them to me, which I catch midair.
— There are three keys: one for your door, another for the garbage bin cage and the last for your mailbox.
— Not complicated.
— I know you, I know you like simple things despite your complicated personality.
— But wait, are all my things there?
— YES! Now, scram!
— You scram! I'm not the one who has to go back urgently, huh?
Déa concedes that with a slight index-finger gesture and a pinch of her lips. She gets in her car and speeds off with a small wave. But just as she was tearing away, my aunt stops at the corner of the street, pokes her head out the passenger window and shouts at me:
— I forgot: welcome home, nephew!
One year older… And she took advantage to overdo the "little." But I won't complain about that warm welcome.
— Take the opportunity to reconnect with your friends! she advises me.
I answer back with a chuckle.
— I don't even know if they remember me or I don't think I remember them!
— Then make the effort to remember them, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you again, and make new friends, she encourages me, remember: you are a good person! Alright, see you!
And she took off, letting the Doppler effect make her tires' screech deeper – I said I studied at a science faculty?
Alone in that parking lot, I observe my new residence. I'm not one to be picky, and I can totally say it suits me, but well, as Orelsan would say: "all we want is to be at home." I open the gate leading to my new apartment, I open the residence door, right next to me at the entrance, there are ten mailboxes so ten potential neighbors. I don't linger too much on the names, I'll learn them in time, but I notice there aren't many. I then walk down the hallway, I see a shared kitchen, so it's possible to eat together – I don't linger too much, but in the 21st century, with the Internet era and the bitterness and tendency to isolate it has generated, I don't think it must be really used. A little label on my keys indicates that my room is number seven – lucky me – I climb the stairs again, walk a few steps and find my apartment – at least I hope so, I'm really fed up with living in a single shared room –, I open and… I find myself in a room filled with boxes… Nonetheless, it didn't seem to be the only room of the dwelling – and yes, it was indeed an apartment! And luckily, she had already installed the TV and bought an internet box.I wasn't going to be bored while I set up as a broke guy in a crappy apartment.
Home Sweet Home, as the Amerlocks would say.
I hope these holidays will be revealing for the next chapter of my life.