They reached the foot of the mountain, where a clearing opened up in front of them. The grass wasn’t tall, here and there revealing clusters of blue and red flowers, sometimes yellow. From the midst of some emerged a few small stars, as if they were a cluster of spores, rising to the sky. The colours were truly amazing, and he had to admit that they made a big impact. He would have liked to pause for a moment, but Lucas continued to run towards the edge of the forest visible in the distance. So that’s where he wanted to go: into the woods. What could possibly be there? Lucas seemed to know exactly where he was going, as if the place was no stranger to him. He hadn’t simply ended up here, he had chosen this place deliberately. So he followed Lucas, panting.
The forest was echoing with distinctive sounds. He imagined the fresh smell and dense air, stretching his hands and trying to touch the tree trunks. At each interaction he sensed a slight opposition, a tiny wrist tremor. This was an unexpected sensation. Somewhere to the right, he spotted a wolf. It just stood there and looked at them with gentle eyes. It had the appearance of a dog. Hey, look, there’s a wolf, he said, but the boy didn’t pay any attention to him. The animal couldn’t reach them, it simply stood there to be looked at and to look at them.
Lucas came to a halt as he reached an enticing water source, a gently murmuring brook. Do you remember when you were in the Retezat Mountains? he asked, delighted to be able to take a break. Sorry? the boy answered. When you were in a camp in the Retezat and you said it was the best mountaineering experience you’d ever had. You came back super excited. It was hard for you, you told me at the time, hard, but nice. You got exhausted and thought you wouldn’t make it to the top, you wanted to quit. I have no idea what you’re on about, Lucas said, looking somewhere to his left. It doesn’t matter, he said, slightly anxious not to drive him away. I wanted to say that this landscape resembles our mountains. It looks quite a lot like them. With the creek, the forest, that clearing, the full works. We don’t have any blue flowers with spores sticking out, and no red crystals like we saw on this road, but look, the tree that collapsed there, you’d say it’s the very tree you had tried to jump over when you broke your leg. Do you remember? When we were in Sinaia? Lucas got up and said curtly, I don’t understand a word you’re saying. Come on, we only have a little further to go.
He followed him. They were walking slowly now, neither of them rushing ahead. By this point, the boy was tired, too. Or maybe dizzy, he couldn’t tell. When all this vast space comes to you at high speed you can easily feel a little overwhelmed. He was thirsty but ruled out any deviation from the main path. He couldn’t risk losing sight of Lucas. There was no telling when he’d have another chance, seeing that today he’d got lucky, after days of trying. Just looking at him there, in front of him, waving his hand, almost took his breath away. He went up to Lucas but approached him gently, not to scare him off, even though he wanted to jump at him and take him into his arms. He made a tremendous effort to hold back. And now, here they were, the two of them in a forest, next to a small hut. Here it is, Lucas pointed out in a proud voice. What do you think? I built it. The hut was slightly crooked, with its foundation on uneven ground and an unfinished roof, without doors and windows, but it looked like a house built for humans. He praised Lucas in all honesty. Did you really build it yourself? Yes, I did, I brought the wood here myself, piece by piece, and built it on the spot. How’s that? Isn’t that brilliant? It is indeed! It looks a lot like the one Grandpa built in the garden, the tree house. Do you still remember it? You were like five years old, and he promised to build one for you, and when you reminded him that a promise was a promise, he couldn’t go back on it. The next summer it was ready. Do you remember? The boy turned his head towards him, and he could see his eyes fixed upon him. My grandparents died a long time ago, he said. Did they? Yes, I didn’t even get to meet them. I had no idea, I’m sorry. Tell me more about this hut. What made you want to build it? Well, it was a challenge, look, you go in there and gather some wood and that’s that: you build a hut in the woods and enjoy the reward. Lucas littered his answers with English, so he did the same. And what reward did you get? Lucas didn’t answer. He just stood still, frozen, without saying a word. His body weighed down in an unnatural way, as if his shoulders had fused with the wood of the hut. Hey, he said. Are you still here? Lucas?
This time it was hard for him to make himself understood by the boy. He spoke to him in Romanian, Hi, I’m Andrei, how are you doing? but Lucas turned his back on him and went on ahead. He thought he had scared him, so decided to follow him with caution. He then thought of switching to English, and asked him the same thing, without success. He felt powerless. At least he could see the boy there, in front of him, and that was good enough. Beholding that curly hair of his, with a close shave on the sides and a straight fringe. An Alpaca haircut. He was wearing the green parka he loved so much. If he could, he’d never take it off. Even though it was now too small for him, he still didn’t want to take it off. Eventually, he gave it away and bought an identical one, only a size bigger. Transition from something to the same thing. The parka was the first accessory he introduced, then a few T-shirts and Air Jordans. They were still in fashion after all this time. And even if the parka was at times left aside, the sneakers were not—never. Lucas always showed up wearing them, this time included.
He was following him from a reasonable distance as he mingled with the others. It was a kind of game, a competition—they were drawing graffiti on the walls of the abandoned factory in lieu of a set. A post-industrial atmosphere with an apocalyptic flavour. The children gathered there were competing in smearing the walls, eager to make art. They seemed to be of all ages, as the results showed—from crooked lines drawn over rudimentary circles, to complex drawings with multicoloured landscapes that turned the walls into gateways to nature. Lucas wasn’t drawing, he was just sitting there watching the others. He approached him and spoke to him again, saying Hello. Lucas answered in Chinese. So that was the problem. A language barrier. He thought about using a real-time translation tool. It was the beta version, so he had to speak slowly and articulately, but things started to get better. Lucas didn’t want to draw but was interested in the game. Why don’t you try it, too? he asked him. You have always liked to draw. I remember when you were little, you’d sneak under the table and while we were talking or drinking or doing whatever we were doing in the adult world, you’d be drawing all the earthly follies. Do you remember? Dinosaurs, cows, cats and dogs, sometimes pigs; landscapes, trees with thick trunks and high crowns, fluffy clouds and half suns; bird line drawings. You were less good at people, they were basically walking sticks, but it didn’t matter. You’d just hold out your hand from under the table and pass me your finished page before moving on to the next. I’ve kept some—they’re at home in a box. From time to time, I get them out and look at them.
He was unsure whether the translation was working properly. Lucas responded laconically, probably because he found it difficult to follow the whole conversation. He was really lively, running around the place, but that wasn’t the problem. They were in a confined space, with clear boundaries, so there was no way the boy could vanish from sight. As for him, he was able to stay at the centre of the inner courtyard—the factory was in ruins, the roof was no longer there, and if you lifted your head you could see the dirty grey sky through which strips of whitish light could barely pass through—and have a full view of everything that was happening. There weren’t many people there, about ten in total, gathered in small groups of two or three.
When you first saw graffiti, you asked what it was, remember? he continued to engage him in conversation. You were about four years old, as far as I recall. We were talking about vandalism. You asked whether the wall stained by spray paint that we were passing by was vandalized, and I replied yes, but as far as other walls were concerned, it depended on how successful the job was: when it’s just a meaningless scribble it’s vandalism; if it’s something coherent, it is graffiti and it is art. I wasn’t convinced that you had understood what I meant then, maybe you can understand now. What do you think? Look, that boy has drawn something interesting, looks like a hawk chasing its prey, see? What do you think? Do you like it? Yes, Lucas answered at long last. Great, me too. Would you like to do something like that, too? I can’t, I’m not good at it. You can try. If you try, maybe it will work out. No, I don’t want to try. I want to look, that’s all. Okay, let’s look together.
They remained side by side in silence. He reached out and touched Lucas gently on his waist. Contact with the boy induced a gentle frisson in his arm, a movement that was almost real. It was as if the two of them were visiting a factory in ruins, looking at some kids drawing. He let himself be gripped by the new reality, what’s more, he immersed himself in it. He focused his mind, concentrating on the moment at hand.
In no time, Lucas froze, and he knew what that meant, he knew that in a few seconds Lucas would disappear altogether. He clung on to those precious moments, holding his hands out and cradling the boy’s immaterial body. There was no resistance from the space in the middle. His arms found each other, and he ended up hugging his own shoulders.
It’s getting harder and harder to find him. In the last few weeks, he had succeeded only once, and thereafter, whenever he had tried, he couldn’t locate him. Lucas simply wasn’t there, in the landscapes he had stumbled upon. He’d choose these at random, pressing the “anywhere” button and, once transported to the generated environment, the virtual world, he’d look for the boy. Maybe he should have improved the avatar: more accessories, to be interesting to other players and to be picked more often. Louis Vuitton sneakers. A thick, silver chain. A cap. A Nike hoodie. It must be customizable; kids like to have options. What would it have been like to run into two Lucases at the same time? Which one would he have talked to? This clearly wasn’t a viable option, either.
He took his VR headset off and stopped the treadmill. It had been a long and fruitless day. He thought he’d take a break, to gather his thoughts. Come up with a strategy, or something. Somehow, he didn’t yet know how. He sat down at the table and cracked open a beer. He hadn’t had a drink in months, though he had four bottles lying about in the fridge. He couldn’t bear to throw them away, as if he knew that one day this self-imposed abstinence would come to an end. He took a sip and felt refreshed. The bitter taste opened his appetite for more. He continued to drink. As he was on the third bottle, his phone started to vibrate. Will you come pick me up? A message appeared on the screen. Ioana. He read the message again, unable to make sense of it. He wanted to answer and ask her, Where should I pick you up from, then he realized and panicked. Today was the day. Today—and he had forgotten. How could he forget? He answered yes, of course, but then deleted the message before pressing send. He didn’t feel like picking her up. Better to meet there. Better for both of them to arrive on their own, meet there and then go their separate ways. He was in no mood for Ioana, for her long, sad and probably cried-out face, all the way to the cemetery. This was of no help to him; it didn’t make his day more bearable. He realized what would have made his day more bearable: talking to Lucas. Just a few words, for at least a few minutes, before leaving. Would you like to meet me there? he messaged Ioana, thinking about how to continue, how to justify his lack of availability on the only day the two of them had to see each other again. I have something to attend to, he said. It has to do with Lucas, I’ll tell you when I see you. He pressed send and put his phone face down. He couldn’t have coped with an entire conversation with her. He went back to the treadmill, put his headset on and entered the omniverse. Anywhere, he said, before pressing the button. Lucas can be anywhere.
He found him on his fourth attempt. It was an island, and Lucas was sitting directly on the sand, at the beach. The wind was blowing, rustling the palm branches. He imagined the breeze, drew air into his lungs trying to replace the stale smell of the house he hadn’t left for days with the salty sea air. Lucas was staring at the water. He sat next to him. He wanted to tell him something, then changed his mind. Lucas turned his head and said, Hello. He answered, How are you doing? Okay, I’m looking at the sea. I’ve never been to the sea, I mean I’ve never seen the sea. Here, or in the real world? Neither here nor in the real world. My dad used to say we’d go one day, but we never made it. So I came here instead. Do you like it? Yes. But I still want to go. I want to swim. Do you know how to swim? Yes, I learned at the pool. How about you? Yes, I can swim, too.
The boy got up and went into the water. He bent down and passed his hand through the foam of the waves. Hey, he said without moving forwards, can I ask you a question? Yes. Why did you pick this avatar? Lucas turned towards him. What do you mean? Of all the avatars in the library, why did you pick this one? I don’t really know, it was free. Not much is available free of charge. And I liked the parka, I have one, too. And the Jordans? Well, my dad doesn’t want to buy me any, he says they’re too expensive, he doesn’t want to pay that much money for a pair of sneakers. I want a pair just like these Air Jordans. You know this avatar has a special voice mode? he continued. No, I had no idea. That’s also free? Yes, it’s free. It’s really interesting, you download it and then you talk differently. Want to have a go? Sure. Where can I find it? Right there, open the third tab, go to “change voice” and from there choose import, and it will come up on your list. Download it, let’s see what it’s like. Okay, I’ll do it right now.
Done.
Okay, say something, let’s see how it sounds. What shall I say? Lucas asked, and he startled. Tell me more about this parka, he said, trying to conceal his feelings. Or about the sneakers. Whatever you want, it doesn’t really matter. Say something, anything.
His phone began to ring, somewhere in the room. He should have put it on silent. It was probably Ioana, wanting to clarify things, as usual. There was nothing to clarify.
In the cemetery, there was a cross, there was a photograph, there was a grave.
Here, by his side, by the sea, Lucas was talking to him.
