Reborn memory

Small specks of dust fly in the air as the millionth pair of feet climb the steps that lead to me. Dust mixed with soil, kneaded by the humidity of the sweltering air on a late July day. The clouds have just covered the sun; it must be around 5 PM, late afternoon, and the crowd is starting to thin. A flock not unlike those found a few meters higher in altitude. Tourists coming from all around the world, all here for me. Let the show begin, the light reflects on me, ripples create shimmering patterns. I watch them and observe those once enchanted gazes. Instead of hundreds of small white bulbs, I find rectangular boxes capturing the scene. Decades have passed since my viewers adopted a different way of observing, more elusive, generous, and at the same time pervasive. Years bring changes, I know it well.

As I’m dabbling in my dance, one of the figures captures my attention.

I recognize the voice, it’s here again. In the distance, I recognize a long-lost friend. She’s here, I recognize her, but her family isn’t the same. Her mother, her brothers, and a man.

…

I have a vague feeling I’ve already been here, the dim light of the underpass, the smell of wood, and that wall. I remember brushing my fingers on the wood of the xylophone. As I try to understand if my mind is playing tricks on me, I realize I’m not mistaken.

Here it is, in all of its magnificence. Memories start flooding me, I nearly stumble, but the fence steadies me. It had been such a long time ago, I remember the sweet flavor of candy as I was walking towards it. Much younger, much smaller, yet aware. She was standing there, whispering comforting words and dreaming of underwater realms. I wanted to join her in her never-ending tale, but duties imposed on me didn’t allow me. Straight out of a fantasy book, I wonder…

I see her, making my way among the shadows, I approach the fence. Our eyes lock, and for a second, I’m not here. I cease to exist. I join her, I see them. So many shadows, and then my brothers, bickering. My mother, her face so tired, and a man, I can’t recognize his face. Constantly shifting, my head spins, it’s making me sick. Just for a fragment of time, it steadies, but I can’t make up his features quickly enough, a shadow walks in front of him. A blur, she takes my hands. Our gazes lock, and I lose the entirety of my essence in her, I crumble completely.

Bickering.

I stagger back, hands shaking. I look around just to find my mother gesturing that we’re leaving. I give her one last glance, I turn around, a force pulls me by my arm. Turn, she urges me to come back, but my steps don’t falter.

Now I understand, Orpheus, I don’t blame you, and neither should the others. I know this is the time, our last encounter. Head looking forward, I point at the xylophone, but this time I don’t hear that sound. I don’t smell wood, just something somewhat resembling what dirt would smell like. I take the steps, and the heat evaporates my feelings.

Reborn.

Many call me “Lec de Ergobando,” but I feel like Undine. My waters, like long tresses, capture and remember.