Page 15 of Obsession of the Egoist
“What changed?” Gray’s predatory eyes bore into Rick.
“Six months before the terrorist attack, we were assigned to guard The Arg, the citadel that serves as the presidential palace. We were told to protect the government body at any cost. That day we also received the order ‘in case of crossfire ignore civilians and complete the mission’. At first, everything went according to the plan. We secured the perimeter, and despite the increasing attack, we were able to hold our positions. But in the middle of the crossfire, a little boy appeared out of nowhere. Kuon ignored the direct order and left his position. A bullet caught his shoulder, so he was sent to the hospital.
“No one knew what to do with this child. His family was dead, and there was nowhere he could go, so he stayed there too. It’s so weird how war and death bring people together. The boy came to visit Kuon every day. They didn’t have anything in common. They didn’t even speak the same language, yet the kid managed to change him. Kuon started smiling. In a few weeks, the boy was sent to France to his new family, but Kuon had changed. Little by little, he started talking to us. Instead of going on his own during the missions, he started watching our backs. Eventually, we became friends.”
Not knowing what else to say, Rick shut up, and for a long twenty minutes, they drove in silence until the car stopped in front of a recently built apartment building.
Gray said, “Arrived.”
Rick looked out of the window, not recognizing the street, then back at Gray, who searched his pockets a moment before tossing Rick a key. “You’ve got no place to stay, right? Tenth floor, apartment 306. You can stay there until you find another place, or it can permanently become yours. If you need a job, I could do with someone like you. Think about it.”
One more time, Rick examined the posh interior of the car, Gray’s expensive suit, and the tall building they parked by. His instincts kicked in, alerting him.
“Thanks, but no. I’ll be out in a few days.” Rick said, then got out. Watching the car depart, he fished the phone out and dialed Kuon. After the second ring, Kuon picked up. “Yes?”
“Kuon, I’m out of jail, and I’ve met your brother.”
THREE MONTHS LATER. LAUSANNE, SWITZERLAND.
SITTING ON THE BOTTOM OF THE BOAT,Kuon rested his cheek over the edge of the board. It smelled of paint, moist wood, and mold. Even without seeing it, he could tell the boat was old, oared. His fingers ran over the rough surface, and he picked off a piece of old paint for no reason. It felt oddly satisfying, so he did it again.
“Do you want to paddle?” Gray asked, pushing the boat away from the shore.
Bending overboard, Kuon sunk his hand in the icy water and sucked in a lungful of sharp, fresh air. The cold temperature and increasing moisture promised a windy February, but that day was windless, and the winter sun licked his skin with warmth.
“Later.”
Splash after splash, vibrating through the boat, resounded in Kuon’s bones, creating a weird illusion of the boat being an extension of him. He felt everything. The slight incline to the left, as they took a smooth turn, the dropping speed, and how Gray lay on the oars.
Gray shuffled to the stern, then back to him.
“I fixed your fishing rod. Want to cast the line?” Gray asked, dropping a comforter over his shoulders.
“Nah… Don’t wanna move. Maybe later.”
“Whatever…” Something clanged by his side. Kuon wanted to remove the sunglasses and present his face to the sun. Feel its healing warmth over his eyes and lips. He didn’t. Gray’s reaction to his face had left him with a haunting feeling of déjà vu. He didn’t need to see Gray’s silvery eyes to know that a bitter mixture of pity and sympathy darkened them. He had already seen it many years ago.
“Do you remember how we went fishing with dad once?” Kuon lifted his head, listening to Gray’s voice, saturated with nostalgia.
“We did?” Kuon asked, searching his memory but didn’t find anything.
“Yeah. Dad told us to dig for worms, and we gathered them in mom’s porcelain cup.”
Kuon chuckled. “No, we didn’t…”
“I tell you. She was so mad she even stepped out of her heels to catch us. Dad saved us from her fury.” The boat rocked on small waves. “It was your first time fishing. You were so excited.”
“Really?”
“That day, Dad was on fire. He pulled out so many fish, the bucket rattled with activity. When you realized what fishing was, and that all those fish would die, you started crying.”
“I didn’t!” Kuon protested, embarrassed for some reason.
“You so did. To make you stop, I helped you throw all the fish back into the river. Dad was livid. We were supposed to stay the night in a tent. Instead of the grilled fish for dinner, dad served us sandwiches with worms to teach us a lesson. He said that we eat what we earn. I knew he wasn’t serious, but you took the sandwich and threw it into the river. You called him a despot. Dad never took you fishing again, and you refused to eat fish ever since.”
“I don’t remember any of this,” Kuon said through the laughter. “And I do eat fish. You lie!”
“I don’t!” Gray chuckled.
