The Goldfinch (Fanfic)

I - Chapter 1 "Winter Sand"

"There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well." 

_Nicholas Sparks, A Walk to Remember

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Theodore Decker, a successful middle-aged art dealer, travels to Ukraine to visit his friend. Along the way, he faced a series of flashbacks from day one until their paths parted. And how he has spent his entire life trying to balance the past, the present and the remaining days of his life.

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         My mother once told me birds remember every feather that falls from their body and everyone they meet. How they could tell the difference between snow and sand... and how they could see more colors than humans.

         It was all white sand left and right through the windows as my train approached Kyiv on December winds. My son booked and organized the trip even though he and my wife stayed in NY. I managed to get a gift for my friend before the trip.          

         "You never told us that you have a childhood friend from Ukraine" exclaimed my son Boris, who was named after him. I told him and my wife Pippa, that I'd lost contact with him for a very long time, and that unexpected midnight call days ago was the only update I've heard of him for many years... and that I needed go to Ukraine this cold season. He was my best friend, in fact if there's a far more superlatives I could ascribe him... all the superlatives in the world wouldn't be enough.

"Ha! Harry Potter!"

        those words, the arrogance, those lips, the curly hair, the black T-Shirt... memories flashed like a dew while I was gazing out the train window, a reminiscence of that ramshackle school bus navigating through hot desert sand. I was gazing the same sand, winter sand I supposed, on a crumbling train gliding through the snow on the way to Kiev.  I packed light on the trip, one bag with enough clothes for couple days and a present for him. I wanted him to forgive me for all the pain that I've caused him... for all but one.

        I arrived in Kiev station on a bleak afternoon, it wasn't so busy and as hungry as I was the KFC caught my attention. We used to order chicken and more chicken, chicken and vodka were all that we've had aside from ourselves in those fucked up nights and sleepovers. I went inside and I thought that those memories were my warrant, a side rationalizing comfort... but it wasn't. It felt so heavy that after the last bite, I used the napkins for my wet eyes before I wiped my mouth.

"Borissssss...."

        I used to whisper his I walked out of the train station. I used to say his name in the open air back in NY too, silently, at top of my office building through the years. I shuffled and heard every crispy steps as my boots trampled the snow.

"I hope I could make it up to you Boris, I've made this travel for you"

        I entered the taxi and showed the driver my destination through my phone, I have a working knowledge with those Cyrillic characters, I studied Russian in college just because of him. Once again I looked out the window and those crispy snow, reminded me of the crispy chips he'd thrown at me while he was mumbling Russian! to which I demanded English please! And he hollered

"Nyet!"

which means "NO". I didn't know if it was those Russian words, or maybe his voice... were always with me. Maybe I'm a bird too, a tiny goldfinch, and he too was one of my feathers, and I remember everything.