43 Flashback, Part 1 (1/2)

Nineteen years ago

Bob Null's life changed one Friday afternoon, coming home from high school. Someone was waiting for him. It was a Japanese schoolgirl, complete with uniform, holding a suitcase in her hands. The petite and demure Asian wasn't really his type, but he had to admit she was beautiful. She was standing in front of his rundown apartment building: the two really didn't seem to belong to the same world.

xcuse me, are you Robert Null?> she asked.

<Uhm, yeah. Call me Bob> he answered, hoping she wouldn't notice how much he was staring at her. She bowed respectfully.

<Tanaka Leiko, it is a pleasure to meet you. Is your grandfather Professor Heinrich Null?>

<Maybe. Why?> he asked back. When your grandfather is a Nazi you tend to talk about him as little as possible.

<May we speak in private?>

Nazi grandfather or not, Bob was a fifteen year old boy in front of a cute girl in a school uniform. Of course he immediately invited her to his apartment.

Once inside, Leiko took off her shoes and looked around, confused. Like Bob, she realized this really wasn't her world.

<Sorry about the mess. We moved in three weeks ago and with Dad doing overtime at the factory…>

<Does anyone else live here?>

<No, my mother passed away and I'm an only child. What about you?> Bob asked to get a chance to change the subject to something else.

<My brothers died of overdose and my mother is in a mental institution> the girl answered. There wasn't the slightest emotion in her voice: she could've given him the weather.

Bob didn't know how to follow that, and just watched her retrieve a picture from her suitcase.

<Have you ever seen this object?> she asked. The picture showed an old black and white picture of Professor Heinrich Null holding a baseball-shaped rock in his hands.

<Sure, come here> he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to his father's bedroom.

He will never forget how cold her hands were that day.

The object was on his father's nightstand. He hadn't bothered to unpack most of his clothes yet, but the rock had been in its rightful place since the day they moved.

Leiko was overwhelmed and seemed on the verge of crying; even her composure had limits.

<Are you alright? You look a little pale> Bob asked.

<The Heart of the Universe. Mom was right: it was on Earth all along.>

<Look, it's just a rock. Grandpa said it was the most important thing ever or something, but he was kind of crazy.>

<What do you want for it?> Leiko asked.

<How about a date?> Bob asked with a big, warm smile. Leiko turned around to look him in the eye: he was positively towering above her, but she was clearly the one in control.

<Are you proposing a romantic encounter or sexual intercourse?>

<What!? No, nothing like that! I was just, look, you're taking this the wrong way. How about we just go for a walk?>

Leiko's stare was unsettling. She hardly ever blinked and her voice never changed tone.

<That will do> she agreed.

They talked for what felt like ages. Leiko let it slip that she was fifteen and that she was some kind of prodigy already in college, but that was the extent of what she wanted to reveal. At first she let Bob do most of the talking, intervening only when necessary to avoid turning it into a monologue.

But over the hours she started to talk about her family. How her father had always been cold towards her, more interested in her brothers and in his own career; he was a very important businessman with very, very shady connections. She didn't talk about her mother.

Eventually, the two found themselves sitting on the beach of Coney Island, looking at the sea.

Saying nothing, just happy with each other's company.

<It is late. Your father will worry> she broke the ice with her cold voice.

<He's used to it. I come here often. What about you? Do you have a place to stay?>

<Yes. I should go back to it> Leiko answered, wiping the sand off her skirt. Then she looked up at the sky, with a sad look. It was the first time Bob saw any emotion on her face.

<There are no stars> she said.

<Yeah, that's too bad. Too many street lights or something. It's funny when you think about it: we've managed to pollute everything, even the sky.>

<None of this matters. We could be nothing and the universe wouldn't notice.>

<What's wrong, Leiko? What aren't you telling me?> Bob asked. The girl looked like she'd been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders her whole life. He'd been trying to get inside her head the whole day, and this was the first time she didn't bother shielding herself.

<I know what is out there. Gods and monsters and scary things. If they come back, nothing will matter. Not the stars, not humanity, not you, not me. The universe doesn't care about us.>

<Will you cut out that gloom and doom bull##it?>

Leiko was surprised by Bob's reaction; he grabbed her shoulders and tried to shake her off her shell-shocked detachment.

<You got hurt by something, badly, I can tell that. But don't go around saying crap like that; people matter. You matter.>

<The universe disagrees.>