An old book
Marla took him around the house to the back part of it. One could have never told that there was a party on the front part, or that there was a front part completely different from it. In there the garden had become an intricate composition of different flowers, the house was brick instead of glass. She opened the front door, a heavy wooden door studded with iron. Inside, the wooden floor was covered with an ancient carpet, and the walls were decorated with portraits, a large hall with a door on each side gave way to a darkened flight of stairs. Marla took him through the right door.
-You have a really strange house…- Albert started saying.
-Shh! Don’t talk.
She switched on the lights in the room they had just entered. It was a medium-sized room, with high ceilings, electric chandeliers hanging from them. Its walls were covered with shelves, and the shelves were stuffed with books. Everywhere he looked there were books, old books, new books. Who knew how many first editions were in there? Who knew how many lost books? The only wall that was clear of books was where the windows were. Two big windows that would allow sunlight to get it, and between them a huge painting. He approached it and saw that it wasn’t a painting, not in the strict sense of the word. It was a genealogical tree.
-Do you like it?- asked Marla while she approached him from behind.-Look this is me.-she said pointing at the end of a branch.
He could feel her breath on his neck, soft and warm as the summer breeze, it was making him nervous. He could also smell her perfume, it smelled like jasmine and orange flower, but then, as she moved closer towards him, it changed and smelled like strawberries and chocolate. She took him by the hand.
-That’s not what I wanted you to see, anyway.
Albert saw that he had started sweating, he could feel the moisture on his hand, and he knew that she could feel it too. He sensed as if something dangerous was going to happen, but at the same time, he kept telling himself that he shouldn’t be afraid of anything, that he was being irrational. Marla told him to sit on a red armchair while she went to pick something from a shelf. She came back with a thick book bound in black leather. It looked rather old and she carried it as if it were something really delicate and precious.
-Here.- she said while handing it to Albert.
He looked at the cover: “The Dream Wizards” it read in gold gothic letters. He looked at Marla not understanding what he would do with the book.
-What’s this?- he asked.
-Wha…- Marla started saying.- You can’t be serious, you don’t know anything?
She saw the look of confusion on his face and laughed, it was a maniac laughter.
-Oh, my! You really don’t know. Well, I’m here to help you. Though, actually, I should say that you’re going to help me.
She approached him and sat on the arm of the armchair. He could feel the warmth of her skin on her arm.
-Look, sweetie, you’re what we call a Dreamer, there are really few of you right now.- she started messing with his hair.- You have the power to change the world in your dreams, isn’t it wonderful?
By then, she had lowered herself to his level and was whispering in his hear, her breath was brushing Albert's skin, and the smell of her perfume, cinnamon now, seemed to become solid ropes, binding him to the chair. She started stroking his arm gently with her fingers, he felt a chill running down his spine and then remembered what her grandmother had told him. Albert suddenly stood up, startling Marla and making her fall on the floor.
-You’re wrong; I’m not what you say. I’m leaving anyway.- he said with shaky voice to the air in the library, not even glancing at her.
He stormed to the door and ran to the front part of the house without even looking back. He was lucky and saw that Robert was in the garden with Dalia. He grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the stairs.
- Are you mental? What are you doing?- asked Robert angrily.
- I’ll tell you afterwards, first I need to get out of here.
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