An Anamnesis

Chapter 2

Is the Man whose Smile is like the Colourful Spring

But the Face and Soul is as Dead Cold as the Sombre Night

 

            The 2nd week of classes came. Since that day, I almost never studied alone. That year, I had my friends studying with me. Those times were fun, since all of us were enjoying each and everyone’s company. Though we study seriously, we never forget to have fun chit-chatting under a same tree at Fitzwilliam College (note: this is a college under Cambridge University), they were laughing as I was just smiling seriously. Maybe I was really serious of a woman. I didn’t laugh nor smile that much, but I plainly jive in the groove of my friends. And who knew, they even had fun of my seriousness, and my grumpy but childish reactions made them laugh more, then made me laugh as well... of course, seriously. Tuesday, September 19, 2012—Professor Courtney saw us by that same tree, and greeted us, “Hi, future lawyers! How are you doing? Having fun studying”? “Good afternoon, Professor Courtney!” everyone said. “We’re doing well!” She said, “I hope you’d be good law practitioners someday. I’m rooting for all of you. Bye”! I didn’t know why. Maybe we’re just too good for undergraduates, or it’s just that she’s so supportive. Never mind. I have many things to think.

            Wednesday that week, we were not on our usual routine. That day, we practiced Fencing. You know, for championship. I sparred with Amanda, who is so defensive and parried my blows, if not evade. Tristan, on the other, sparred aggressively with Kyle. It was a great match. Both are offensive and defensive, but Tristan emerged victorious, as well as I. So because of that, I challenged him to a match. We fought like grand masters—very offensive and defensive, but because of our par sharpness in combat, the battle took long and none of us won. Sadly, it was 9pm when we finished and no one hit the other, so we ended the match. However, Tristan didn’t want our match to end like that. So as we leave in separate ways, Tristan said, “We shall fight again, Leenera. We shall fight again until one of us stands magnanimous”. “That’s a promise,” said I. “Of course it is,” he replied with a mischievous grin on his face. Because of that grin, Amanda recalled about what we talked about last Friday when she stayed overnight in our house. She asked me:

“By the way, Leenera. How did you say that Tristan’s past, or should I say his childhood, has something to do with what he is now? What proof do you have for that?”

“When he said that he hadn’t smile like that for a long time ago, maybe perhaps it was due to a traumatic experience in his childhood which affected him that way. More or less, he had a burden in his mind. I know what the real thing is, but I don’t have enough evidence to prove so. There are still many details, and information to be taken in order to prove that.”

“What will you get in proving that?”

“We don’t know what he’s thinking, and we don’t know what’s going on. If we know what he could be planning, we’ll know what’s going to happen. If his plan is bad, I’ll stop it. If it’s good... well that’s it! I just feel that I need to know.”

“If that’s so, I’m with you. Just make sure that you know what you’re doing. You know, I want neither you nor me to get into trouble.”

“I clearly understand that.”

            So I went home wondering about Tristan. These past few weeks, his actions contain surreptitious shrewdness of thought. I can look beyond those eyes of his, but there’s something more. Yes, there’s something more! I knew it, but at that moment, I was not sure of it. It’s just a hypothesis, a theorem. I was just about to prove it back then.

            Saturday that week, I met one-on-one with Tristan. Not really a date, but it seemed like that. You know, getting to personally know each other very well. We decided to talk at some place in Market Street. I knew his likes, his dislikes, his ambitions, his talents and skills, and I presume some of his weaknesses. He did not seem a bad guy. Indeed, he was very manly and gentle, like the sweet breeze at the seashore every night. But still, I couldn’t remove wondering from my mind. His face still showed a cold, hard emotion—like a person with dead emotions. His eyes are as dead lonely even though he smiled a lot. His body language still told me that there’s a massive burden that his soul bears and could not escape from. That made me a mixed doubtful, afraid, alert, but most of all, worried. I knew that he should tell us something, that he should share a problem with us, which are his friends and second family.

            The two of us had a great sharing time with each other. He learned something good from me, and I got some information I need, and learned something well too. I never knew he wasn’t that cold as I thought he was. He was a gentleman among the gentlemen. He showed finesse in his actions and words, and knew how to say sweet words unto a woman, although many of his “sweet words” didn’t affect me that much. So as we parted ways, I left these words to him: “Tristan, I know you’re indeed a fine-mannered man. But never forget that there shall come a time that problems will thwart you. In that case, I’m here to share your pain and burden”.

“Keep that in mind, I shall,” he replied in a sure manner.

            Though what I knew about him is not that enough, I knew that someday those things will take part in the course of our history as friends.