The scare was so great that it took me some time to have thoughts going through my mind again.
The first thing I noticed was how bony the hand was and how creepy and cold it felt. It seemed like that dismal place finally created arms to embrace me.
I reached out for the person, trying to free myself, only to have my hands tied with a rope in an incredibly agile movement, and a piece of clothing skillfully placed on my mouth, gagging me.
Whoever this person was, I could tell he had a lot of practice at what he was doing. At the same time that this thought scared me even more, I realized there was not much I could do to help the situation. In prostration and anger, I took a deep breath and layed my whole body on the floor.
“Silence!”
The order was given in a sinister whisper and I began to be more frightened than angry. It did no good for me and made me start to cry, nervously.
“I said, ‘Silence.’”
This time the male voice accentuated every word of its threat. I felt myself freezing inside and swallowed my last sob. The place being so dark, all these unkown surroundings, made me panic.
I felt a slight touch on my head and started.
“I won’t harm you.”
His voice, strangely full of calmness and very reassuring, cut the silence. This confused me even more. It was so easy to trust this voice!
I could feel when he knelt by me and caught my lantern. It amazed me that he could find it in that darkness. Even if my eyes had gotten used to the lack of light, I could barely tell what was around me.
I heard the metal part of the lantern clang against the stone floor as he lit it. I was finally feeling more curious than frightened.
My mind became the stage to a decision: the character of this person’s intent. At the same time I wanted to scream, I kept thinking that if he was going to help me that might not be that best way to behave.
The weak silhouette I saw didn’t help me in my decision. The oil in the lantern was almost gone and it only illuminated my legs dimly. All I could see was a man wrapped in some sort of black cape, with a large brimmed hat over his head.
Again he touched me lightly, this time on my ankle.
His touch was aprehensive at first and he ended up retrieving his hands.
All my mom had said about men hiding in the cellars came to my mind at once, and my first impulse was to struggle. As if guessing my thoughts, he placed his whole hand on my forehead, and said in an almost paternal way, “What did you do to your leg?”
Again his touch was deadly cold, but this time I felt comfortable under it.
When he finally brought himself to touch my leg again, his movements were mechanical and his fingertips traced the bones and muscles, in a phisiological inspection.
I felt instantly a great tenderness for this man, not knowing why. From that moment, I felt a strange confidence in him and gave way completely. It is true I couldn’t be absolutely certain if I was out of danger or not, but the way he so carefully examined the injury was almost...pleasant?
I managed to raise my head a little, I wanted to know who this paradoxical person was, so scary and so reassuring. When I finally succeeded in finding an angle to glimpse at his face, the disappointment filled me - for he was wearing a white mask that covered his face completely.
That almost glowing white took away some of the security I felt. This time, it was the ghost stories that came to my mind. This was getting really puzzling!
I was beginning to understand his mystery- this was a man not to be seen with the eyes - for it didn’t matter how long I would examine him in the dim light - it was just a shadow wearing black from the hat to the boots.
I wished he talked to me...
The deft way he wrapped the bandage, the soft dabbing at my muscles, all that made a deep impression on me. His fingertips dancing around my leg gave me a singular feeling he was completely unconscious of.
At last his hands left me. He stood up, his very tall figure almost threatening. I wondered what he would do with me now. He said in a voice even more threatening, ”You don’t know how close you were from a magnificent death.”
I knew he was not referring to my injury. But strangely, I kept as peaceful as I was before hearing this.
“You had luck, little girl. Now I’ll return you to your sunshine world - and I hope you won’t give me reasons to go there after you.”
He was very still, but there was no doubt about the truth of his words. Leaning over me as if to hold me, he stopped for a moment and said, “And one more thing; if I ever find you here again, I won’t be this kind!” and raised me in his arms at once.
He had no idea of how these words were striking me. I almost admired him for the power he transmitted in such a low beautiful voice.
He grabbed the lantern and gave it to me, asking gently, “Hold it, please.”
He headed to a plain wall and there was an entrance, a dark passage I would have never seen. All this was beginning to feel like a nonsensical dream.
I cradled my head on his shoulder and gave a deep sigh. I was feeling no pain now, and I knew I would be safe soon. I just didn’t know if I liked that or not. The contact with his body gave me a weird feeling - for under his velvet cape, his body seemed was as lean as his own hands. And still he carried me with no apparent effort!
My face was very close to his, but I couldn’t see anything besides the edges of the mask laying on the side of his face. I perceived an atypical fragance in his neckband, like a strong woody perfume; and a musty smell that I recalled from somewhere in my childhood. The mix was not unpleasant, but it was difficult to imagine such a man living in a place full of ancient stuff covered by mothballs.
My lips were getting a little sore because of the clothing, but what bothered me was not being able to talk with him. Why did I have such an urge of communicating with him?
He moved in such a smooth way that if I closed my eyes I could say I was floating. Still I had my eyes as open as possible, trying to memorize every single turn of the path. What for? I had my reasons... I just wondered why he didn’t care for blindfolding me.
I guess the biggest mistery was where he had come from. The only sensible explanation was he being an artist himself. But what in the world could he be doing down there? Oh, well, he probably had his reasons, just as I had mine.
We finally reached what I guessed, by the noises, to be the ground floor. Unfortunately, as we were inside some kind of tunnel or secret passage, it was still very dark and I couldn’t distinguish things well. Oh, how anxious I was to see him, and talk to him! I could only see he was wearing evening clothes, which made him look more like a spectator than an artist. I could also make out a door in front of us.
When he opened it, I was absolutely amazed! We had just entered my own bedroom through a door I had no idea that existed. I was sure now that it was only a crazy dream, those that feel incredibly real when you are dreaming, but sound absurd when you wake up.
He entered the bedroom carefully. I had only one candle burning, probably lit by my mom to help me to find my way.
He quickly laid me on a couch and released my hands and mouth. Knowing myself free again, I didn’t know what to do. And before I could make up my mind, the shadow was slipping through the hidden door.
I reached out in vain and yelled, ”Wait!”
Seeing this magical being disappearing in the darkness without a single word, I felt my heart tighten and tried to run to the door.
“For God’s sake, please wait!” I yelled, and tumbled on the floor.
I felt the pain in my leg again, this time stronger, and had my eyes full of tears when I found the man in the doorway. At that moment I forgot about everything else and looked up at him, standing in the darkness of the path. Showing impatience and anger, he asked, always in his low voice, “What do you want?”
I smiled at him, helpless. I didn’t know either.
He lost his threatening posture at my grin. It was clear he didn’t expect it, and furthermore didn’t know how to respond. That gave me more confidence.
“I... How can I tell you how grateful I am?”
He was surprised. I couldn’t understand why, but he was surprised. The mask, actually, didn’t hinder me from reading his emotions. He expressed them so clearly through his movements or his voice!
“I mean...where can I find you to repay what you’ve done for me?”
I could see the sparks in his eyes now:
“Don’t you ever think of finding me. You will see things worse than death!”
Then changing moods, he added in a tender voice, ”Besides, you don’t need to give me anything in return.”
When I came back to my wits, I was alone and wallowing in that puzzle. And now I could feel the pain pretty well.