Why Did It Happen?

(13)

“Take me to Nürnberg Hauptbahnhof please. As quick as possible”, I told the taxi driver as I exited the airport. There was unusually a heavy snowfall there. The average minimum temperature of Nuremberg at that time of year used to be 8 degrees. 2030 saw quite a drastic change of weather.

“But Miss, there has been a blast there. It might not be safe going there right now.” He spoke perfect English but in a German accent.

“I know, but it’s very crucial for me to go there. I’ve got a friend as a victim of the blast. I have to bring him back at any cost,” I pledged.

“Okay.” Thank God!

After 10 minutes, the driver asked, “Where are you from Miss?”

“I’m from India but I study in Oxford, England.”

We reached the station in 25 minutes and the sight that met me was gruesome. The whole station had transformed into no more than rubble. There were thousands of people crying over an innumerable number of dead bodies. I saw a mother crying over her middle-aged son, a wife who had come with her 3 year old daughter crying over her deceased husband, while the daughter kept asking her mother why her father was sleeping there on the snow and why he wasn’t waking up. There was an old couple who sat opposite to their dead daughter, with the wife weeping on her husband’s shoulders and the husband cursing the Lord for allowing such a disaster to happen. There were many other such unfortunate families. I paid the driver, thanked him and ran towards a group of policemen. They seemed to be engrossed in a deep conversation. I went to one of them and said, “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” He detached from the group and asked.

“I am here looking for a friend of mine who was a victim of the blast. I don’t know whether he is...” It was hard using that word for Dan. “... dead or alive. Where can I get some information about him?”

“Go to that small clinic over there.” He pointed to a tiny shed (which was actually a clinic but resembled a shed) which they had put up there to treat the injured victims. There were many stretches organized in straight rows that were kept outside the clinic. Probably dead bodies which have not yet been collected. Suddenly, I thought, What if one of them is of Daniel’s? I reprimanded myself for even thinking like this.

I thanked the police officer and advanced towards the clinic with nervous steps. My legs were shaking. Must be because of the cold. I later realised that it was the fear of a girl looking at the lifeless body of her lover; the fear of being unable to see those passionate eyes ever again; the fear of never being able to hear that laugh which induced life into all those who listened; the fear of being alone.

I went there and asked one of the doctors, “Excuse me? I am looking for Daniel Smith. He was on the train when the blast took place.”

“On the train?! Then there are no chances of his survival. The bomb itself was implanted on that train which had to arrive in Nuremberg. Come with me.”

Had I been a weak-hearted person, I would have fainted then and there. As I followed the doctor, my spirits and my fear were progressing contrarily.

He stopped at the head of a body, covered with a white sheet. He bent down and removed the sheet from the face and asked, “Is that Daniel Smith?”

I couldn’t utter a reply for a few minutes, because that was indeed Daniel! My knees felt week. I gasped, covering my mouth, and fell down. All of a sudden, my legs denied bearing the weight of my body. He laid there; motionless; lifeless. All of a sudden, the sun that had been shining over me, burnt to ashes.

“Miss? Is that Daniel Smith?” he asked, clicking his fingers at my face.

“Yes. Yes that’s him,” I answered, looking up at him.

“Sorry for your loss”, he said while keeping his hand on my shoulder.

I stayed there, like that, for straight 5 minutes, without moving even an inch. I couldn’t digest the fact that he had been snatched away from me. All my fears had suddenly engulfed me, and were trying to tear me down. In those 5 minutes, I went through a turmoil of emotions. I wanted to scream, yell, shout, cry. I wanted to seize Dan and take him to a faraway place; a place where death could never reach him. But I couldn’t do any of those. I felt a tight knot in my throat. If I had opened that knot I would have drowned myself in my own tears; tears which were full of pain, heartache, agony and woe.

That same doctor, who had shown me to Dan, came after a few minutes and offered to cremate him in the snow – the snow which was tainted with Dan’s blood – along with the other passengers whose families were unable to take them back home. I rejected the proposal. I couldn’t leave him there, in that unknown, ill-fated land. I had to bring him back home; where he could watch over me, his brother, his sister. I had to bring him back to us. I didn’t want him to live death alone. I wanted him to know that even after he has left us, we would hold on to him.

They took his body to prepare it for the flight. I was sitting on a rock nearby, reflecting upon our relationship, when I realised how deeply I loved him. When he was with me, each day was a bright, shining morning, and each night was equally glittery.

I looked at the rising sun. The snow had drifted to the beginning of a new day, just as our love drifted off to a void. I took out my phone, and dialled Charles’s number.

“Hello? Charles?”

“Scarlette! How are you? Do you know where Daniel is?”

“Charles, did you read about the Nuremberg railway station blast?” I was still in a state of daze.

“Yes, I did. Why?”

“Well, Dan is with his mother now. He was in Nuremberg when the blast took place. I am here too. I’ll bring his body home.”

By the time I left Nuremberg, it was 8:00am. I reached Oxford at 12:00 noon. We started preparing for the funeral and cremated him at exactly 2:11pm. When half of the guests had left, I saw Charles leaning against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. Mary couldn’t come since she was bed-ridden. I went to Charles, who was trying to restrain his tears, but failed when I came and stood beside him. I hugged him and said, “Shhh... Don’t cry. Dan would have never wanted you to cry over him. Don’t forget, from now on, Mary is your responsibility. After Aunty and Dan, you are her only support. You have to be her strength. Do you get that?”

“Yes. I won’t cry anymore. I’ll have to be a strong pillar for Mary. Thank you, Scarlette. You were truly a blessing in Daniel’s life. I’ll forever be indebted to you,” he said, wiping away his tears.

“You don’t have to be. I loved Daniel, and I still do. I would have gone to any extent to make him happy and make him feel complete.” We smiled at each other and then went back to tend to the remaining guests.

That evening, when I reached the hostel, I saw David (Dan’s roommate) coming towards me. They had been roommates since the day they had joined the college and were very close friends. He was clearly distressed at the demise of his friend.

“Scarlette, Daniel had told me to give this to you, in case he never returned from Germany,” said David, and handed me a small red box.

Hi!! Sad chapter...
What do you think there is in the box? What did Daniel leave for Scarlette?
Let me know if you like the chapter :)