Oslo

He took a great shower. A good shower always helped him think straight. Clothes, shoes, jackets, tickets, passport, sunglasses and a pack of Disprins were always handy. All set to go, he glanced at the house for the last time before leaving for the trip; stuck some sticky notes on the refrigerator for the cleaning staff to guide what was needed to be done on priority in his absence.

After clearing the immigration, Alex waited at the lounge flipping through pages of Traveler magazine, just in case; he gets some tips for the trip. His flight was in about an hour, he had time to kill and since it was decently past 7 in the evening, he thought it'd be no harm to have a drink or two. It had been a while anyway.

“Old Monk, please” insisted Alex to the bartender after the sweet-looking, slim and sort-of mysterious guy behind the counter suggested a few drinks on the menu which were apparently 'hot' for the week. With a bit of disappointment and angst on his face, he made the drink for Alex as requested and placed it on a coaster at the counter. “Thanks,” smiled Alex, “you've been working here for how long?” in his slight-Spanish twang which never failed to impress women and men alike. The bartender was attending the next customer by then. Alex smiled to himself looking at him making the drinks with ease. Some people just know what they are at.

Alex looked around while gazing at the travelers lugging their bags around the lounge looking for someone, something or some place. Everybody was busy doing something or the other. He almost finished his second drink when he was approached by a fine lady with a chequered coat on and a sleek handbag on her left shoulder, a blue suitcase wheeled all through the way, it seemed. “Hi, do you mind?” she asked pointing at the bar stool next to him. “Sure”.

“I missed my flight to Cairo. Have to wait till they fix me with another flight”, she started on her own, leaving Alex confused whether she was talking to him specifically or just to herself as there were no pleasantries or introductions shared between the two of them. He was awkward at first meets or, just generally.

“Are you usually this forlorn?” poked the lady further.

Looking at the lady, confirming the question was indeed directed at him, “No, just with strangers. Awkward” Alex explained. That was the most polite manner he could explain his situation in the shortest way. “I see. Which way are you headed to?”

“Oslo”

“That's impressive. You know the dialect? You seem to be from Spain?”

“Yes. I am going for a solo trip. I figure I'll manage.”

“You seem pretty confident for a single tourist traveling to a non-native speaking country. You're fond of traveling then?” By this time Alex was starting to get agitated at the barrage of questions she posed. He was traveling for the very same reason that he wanted some peace and tranquility, all to himself. For some time, at least after what he had to go through, he deserved that break or needed it, more so.

“Well, yes. Not the first individual trip,” he smiled and looked away hoping she would grant him that space. He asked for another drink, fourth maybe. His flight was in about a while and he had to start the boarding. He had to rush on the drinks.

Soon after landing at the Oslo International Airport, Alex looked for the exit after all the formalities. He wondered how he would manage as the only language people spoke in was Norwegian. She was right, he thought. He had to really manage. After several hand gestures and attempts at broken German, he somehow succeeded in explaining the cab driver where he had to head to. It was a good 45 minutes’ drive from the airport to the hotel he was to hold up at. It was a neat drive. He rolled down the window pane letting the fresh, cold air brush his face. There was something about the European air �" it lets you go places you can only imagine. His 'European getaway' would be in her arms; for now, he had to make do with Norwegian air.

Without speaking much, he tendered exact change to the driver avoiding the obscurity of the conversation it would have otherwise lead to. His room was not so lavish and not too shabby, good enough for the spend. It came with a great view; he could see the town in its tiniest measure. Breathtaking, he whispered to himself. He wished she was here with him and realized soon after that it was unrealistic and pretty late for it come true as well. So, he got to packing essentials for his hike. After he was done, he rummaged through his luggage for the map and set out for the hike. More specifically, he set out to seek himself expecting to find her in the process.

He began his trail in Nordmarka for the day. Splendid with trees everywhere, Alex was sure he would enjoy every bit of it. Marking every milestone on his map, he moved forward for the rest of the trail. Halfway into the forests, he heard the musical rhythm of gushing water somewhere north of where he was. Following the sound, he reached the lake. Transfixed at the beauty, he decided to halt there for a while and then continue the hike for the rest of the day. The lake was serene and held its own, cramped in a dense forest it had the existence defying the forces beyond. Alex thought of her with every lap of water that glazed in the sunlight. She symbolized strength to him and was the strength as far as he was concerned. He kept looking at the lake till dawn set in, he was in no mood to part with her... he stayed there longer.

At the bar later that day, he decided to have something strong, something that could make him feel lighter … hollower. “Scotch please” he demanded. The night passed fluidly �" just him and his partner for the night, his scotch.

He walked back to his room. He didn't drink responsibly, however he was still astonishingly under control to walk up to a distance, taking breaks every five minutes and looking around. Following which, he took 25 minutes to reach his room. Upon opening the door, he noticed his room was still shabby as he had left it before leaving for the hike. He decided the better of it and sprung on the bed, laying weak, fighting hard to stay awake. He wanted to find a reason to have come here; he couldn't and eventually slept like a baby.

Alex liked hanging around at bars, drinking and dancing; as a child he would play outdoors most often. It was stifling to stay at home. He loved having a good time, being happy. He was of the opinion if the world only concentrated on being happier, things would be much simpler and easier. He loved his food and wine, it helped him think straight and relax. Moreover, he would perform great in bed, thanks to the wine and that mattered to him. Walking on the streets one would rather skip made his adrenaline run heights. He was always on the lookout for something; coming from a childhood where he was restricted to a certain playtime or socializing, not much exposure to what happened around made him inherently competent and observant. He longed to know what made a man love another human in such depths, how can a person come out of a loss of something precious, how a person copes with the pain of losing one's identity and wondered why the flowers were of a particular color while he was in kindergarten. Alex was the one with a lot of questions in a quest to find answers. His trip to Oslo was a contradiction to his personality. He wondered why.

Alex met the strangest people while on his trips to places but this one took the cake. Stout man, with a pointy hat perched atop his small head and a cigar, he reminded him of a small-time thug, only harmless. He seemed too interested in what Alex was doing. “Sir, are you alone?”

Alex looked back surprised to see someone speak in English, shame it had to be someone he was not too keen on talking to. “Yeah, Scotland”, he turned to his drink. “Aye, Scottish then?” “No, Spanish. Living in Scotland for eight years now,” Alex was exasperated by now. He needed his space. “Old monk, please”.

“Ya don' like speaking much, eh?”

Alex gave a polite smile to ascertain his statement trying to be as elusive as possible to avoid any sort of conversation. “Uh-huh”.

“Look mate, I know ya've been drinking at this bar since the time ya came here. Been noticin' ya.” Not too happy about the intrusion of his personal space Alex decided to shift places. He didn't want to stop drinking mid-way, it was his only buddy.

“Everythin' okay mate?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry I would like to be on my own”. He was irritated now, the man reminded him of the woman at the airport.

“Sure. But let me just tell ya, y’know, things have their own ways of workin' out, ah? Take it slow mate. You are all you have,” patted the man at Alex's back. He knew Alex was grappling with much deeper issues than just drinking; drinking was just to fill the deep pit he was in like you would cover a sand pit at the beach. The man got up and walked away. Alex didn't respond or turn behind to wave him goodbye instead he just kept looking at the drops condensing at the bottom of his glass. Every drop reminding him of every moment spent apart from her. He'd been alone for more than a year and yet none of his friends noticed what he was struggling with except for the short man without even having to speak about it. Her memories kept twirling in his thoughts as he mirrored that by swirling the glass at hand. He couldn't go any farther, he had reached the lowest he could but still wondered if he could find his way back. He didn't wish to lose. She wasn't by his side to caress his hair assuring everything would be fine and that was his reality; that was the prick he tried avoiding by guzzling alcohol every time he had some time to spare.

By his seventh drink, he could not keep his emotions at bay and neither did his tears obey him. It had been long they were let out, they wanted free and this was not the time they chose to hold back. He longed for her but couldn't do anything about it. Maybe the man was right- things have their own ways of working out and he so wished they did. Maybe he'd come running away from his fear of powerlessness, he ran from the harsh reality he faced in Scotland everyday, maybe he wished to consume himself in everything he saw that reminded him of her, maybe he just wanted to be close to her. And now he knows, the journey from everything to nothing was just a breath. In his case, it was hers. The days seemed superfluous to him and waited for the dark to set in for light stabbed him where it hurt the most. He was comfortable of the dark thinking it would heal him of his scars and put him to sleep, lullaby him to a land of his dream world where he could go to bed with her together peacefully. He was in pain and knew he wouldn't come out any soon and that was the sad truth; the sad melancholy of his life.

“Sir, are you alright? You feel fine?” tried the bartender in broken English. “It’s closing time, sir. You want me to walk you to the room?”

“I do not know, gentleman. But I would like to sleep. Tuck me in.” Alex requested, passing out soon after.

He fell asleep warm that night, under the stars, in his blanket, somewhere far way in Oslo where he drifted to the land he breathed and lived in to see the glaze on the water, the glaze that reminded him of her. He held her hand and looked through the skies. He very well knew, this would not stay for eternity but whatever time it allowed him, he made sure he would make the most of it. After all, she lived with him until reality set in. He didn’t want to let go, he wanted that forever.

That night, he slept well for he was where he wanted to be, away from reality but still ensconced in his reality. The man was right, things had their own ways of working out �" his drunken dreams were his secret passage to her and it kept him going and he had to. After all, he was all he had…