The Last of the Winter's Chill

 

 

The graves of legendary innovators that surrounded me would usually lift my spirits, but not this bitter evening.

A moment later I arrived at my last hope of renewal, the burial site of Dvořák. I stared at his stone statue. His face was as fierce and intimidating as usual. This normally brought a smirk to my face; however on this last day of April, nothing was bringing a cheer to my despondency.

The elaborate grave was decorated by fresh flowers and cards of condolence, as if the man had died only yesterday. I left his eminence to wallow in his own sorrow and made my way north along the Vltava.

After traipsing by the river for quite a while I reached the infamous Karlův Most. The Gothic bridge was heaving, but not with the usual throng of tourists. A gathering of torch bearers dominated the proceedings. They were marching west. I was not in the mood to converge, so I pushed on, passing a score of adorning statues along the way.

When I reached Saint Nicholas of Tolentini I stopped and looked out beyond his stone figure at the Baroque church of Saint Mary Victorious. I performed the sign of the cross and prayed that success would be mine. I then walked down a flight of steps and made my way under the bridge towards the Čertovka.

When I got to the canal I sat down by its bank in the gloom and tried to refocus my mind.

After much reflection my thoughts were interrupted by the tune of Allegro Con Fuoco. My setting made the opening notes more eerie than normal. I removed my Nokia 6500 Classic from my inside jacket pocket. On the screen it was flashing- 20:00. I deactivated the alarm and looked at my reminder. It read- Meet Mirka at work. I then put the phone back.

As I was about to head off I noticed a familiar object wedged between two stones, directly below the statue of Saint Adalbert. Though I had boots on, I would have gone in barefooted. I rose and waded towards the item.

On arrival I released an empty green bottle from its station. It was a Becherovka miniature.

As I began to think about the flavours of this wine a white letter formed on the stone work before my very eyes. It was an upper-case Q. More letters then appeared, forming a word.

Before long the word and a number were written. It read- Qārā’ 27050131. Something that I can’t explain caused my head to spin. The bottle flew out of my hand and landed in the water. I took in some air and waited a few minutes for my head to clear.

When I felt reassured I bent down, took hold of the bottle and placed it in my outer jacket pocket. I then straightened up, thought hard and picked out a snippet of my memory. Qārā’ meant call in Hebrew. I removed my mobile again and entered the number from the wall.

As I reached the last digit the writing disappeared. I looked at the wall. There was no trace. I then pressed the call key. Holding the mobile to my ear I waited with apprehension for an answer.

The monotonous call tone was soon cut short.

‘Hello, can I help you?’ came a voice.

The voice caused my whole body to quiver.

‘Who is this?’ I then spluttered out.

‘I’m Antonín.’ answered the voice.

‘So am I.’ I said more clearly.

‘I’ve done it!’ screamed the voice.

‘Do I know you?’ I asked.

‘Do I know you?’ beamed the voice. ‘I am you.’

A kind of madness briefly took hold of me. Questions revolved around my head as I tried to fathom out the logical explanation for this. Nothing substantial came to mind, but I undoubtedly knew the person on the other end of the line was me.

‘How did you do it?’ I asked.

‘You mean how we did it,’ said my future self. ‘I’d like to tell you, but it would be cheating time and your thought processes.’

‘Can’t you give me a clue?’

‘No way.’

I knew I was stubborn, but experiencing it from the other side demonstrated it even more. I could see I wasn’t going to get the information I required from my future self.

‘I’m going to finish the call,’ I said. ‘By the way will I be able to call you again?’

‘The line will be broken after you or I hang up,’ said my future self. ‘So the answer is no.’

‘Bye then.’

‘Wait there are three things you should know.’

I waited with a sense of anticipation, hoping for a minuscule clue to help me get started.

‘First, wait for the green man.’ said my future self.

‘Why?’ I said.

‘Just do it.’

‘Second, remember Dvořák.’

‘What?’

‘Just do it.’

‘And last of all, Mirka believes in you.’

‘Thanks, that means everything.’

‘So long me.’

‘Bye Antonín.’

A second later there was silence. The link between my present and future self was broken. I took a moment to think about what had just happened. The significance of it discharged a surge of positivity through my veins.

Though I would eventually achieve greatness, the question at this present moment was how. Reassured that time was on my side, I left it on the back burner.

I put my phone back and made my way south along the canal to my next quandary. I soon reached a bridge. I crossed over and came to Hellichova. Tonight the street had a ghostly feel. I turned right and looked up at the strange sign. It read- Elixir. I entered in. The aroma of soup and bread filled the room, but that was all. This restaurant was just about dead. Just one customer, an elderly lady sat by the wall decorated with esoteric signs.

‘Hello stranger.’ said a graceful voice, I knew so well.

In a brief moment my dearest Mirka’s deep green eyes made contact.

‘Sorry, I’m late.’ I said.

‘No worries,’ she said. ‘I’m used to it.’

‘Not very busy here.’

‘Everyone’s gone up to the hill to see the winter off.’

She then looked at me with a sense of curiosity.

‘You look different my love,’ she said. ‘Have you been drinking?’

‘No, I found this bottle under the bridge.’

‘Karlův?’

‘Is there another bridge?’

‘Mirka,’ came a male voice from the bar. ‘Thanks for hanging on, you can go now.’

‘No worries, Pavel,’ said Mirka. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Have a good night.’ said Pavel.

After Mirka had let down her auburn hair and gathered her things we left the Elixir behind and made our way down the quiet street.

‘Sorry about earlier.’ said Mirka.

‘Don’t apologize,’ I said. ‘You were just being honest.’

‘But I really upset you.’

‘That wasn’t you. I let all my woes escalate.’

When we reached the junction we joined eighteen others waiting to cross the main street.  

‘What are you waiting for?’ asked Mirka.

‘Wait.’ I said firmly. A second later a man leapt out into the road. A car then appeared out of nowhere and almost took him out cold.

'You saved me.’ said Mirka.

'I did have some help.'

‘Who?’

‘Someone you know well.’