Chapter 18
The breaks of the car have started to work again, and Arthur stops right in front of the sign.
“I need a moment,” he says, resting his head on the steering wheel.
“We’ll be fine,” I try to comfort him, patting his shoulder.
“It might sound like a very conventional statement, but I think it’s time for breakfast,” Arthur unexpectedly tells me, raising his head.
I look at him, surprised by his sudden change in mood.
“Yes, miss. There’s a bed&breakfast not too far from here, and I want both: the bed and the breakfast. No discussions. Unless I get some food and some sleep I refuse to go any further,” he says in reply to my perplexed look.
“I have no objections, but-” I start and stop, completing the sentence with a desolated gesture to the empty road.
“Well, we are at the boundaries of the village of Monasteriumburg, but there’s more to it than this unpaved road and these trees. Trust me,” Arthur says with a jolly tone.
As we drive on I figure there’s more to Monasteriumburg than the unpaved road and the trees, but not much more.
There’s a gas pump, a couple of houses and a bed&breakfast, indicated by a large sign which must have looked trendy in the 50’s but is now in a state of partial decay.
“So you’ve been here before?” I ask.
“No, not really,” Arthur says.
“Then how do you know the place?!” I wonder in surprise.
“It was about 10 years ago. My marriage had just fallen apart. Friends kept inviting me to parties and dinners to lift my morale, but what I really needed was some time alone to digest what had happened. One weekend I took the car and started driving, with no real destination in mind and the GPS switched off. I have a good sense of direction, but after a while I got lost, and ended up in this town. I saw the monastery from a distance, and drove by this bed&breakfast. I wasn’t actually sure I’d still find it here, but I’m glad they haven’t closed it down,” Arthur tells me.
“And you didn’t stop back then?” I ask him.
“No…” he replies hesitantly.
“Why?” I want to know.
“Because when I did a woman approached my car and said, ‘This is not the right time’. I remember it as if it were yesterday,” Arthur tells me.
Now he is looking at me with startling intensity.
“Who was it Arthur?” I ask.
“Someone who looked like you,” he says.