Short story 12. The last dream

Old Rufus Schoenster was sitting on the wooden bench in the cozy sunlit Wien Volksgarten. It was his favorite place despite of the fact that Rufus was lucky to live in one of the most beautiful cities in the whole world. The old man was carried away by an impressive book called “The History of Scandinavian Countries”, which he was rereading almost every day, returning back to the good times on the Earth. Formerly, Rufus was a famous professor-medievalist in the main Wien Universitaet, however, during many decades, he taught the exciting history course since pristine epoch till modern civilization. Later, he still worked as a teacher, but everything had seriously changed in the last ten years. First of all, many students who supported him and shared the professor’s interests had already graduated from the university. It sounded strange, but the new generation was too different from the previous one – these were mobile people with iPhones and portable computers, with constant headphones in their ears and bad manners.

Sitting in Volksgarten Rufus often thought about the best students in his career – it was a small group of young people, who studied history about thirty years ago. They didn’t seem to be outstanding boys and girls, but there was something special in the way they treated their history professor. Those days the atmosphere in the lecture-hall was filled with cordiality, comprehension and educational ardor. There was no more a dozen of students headed by the professor: there was a separated society of people fascinated by the history…Oh, yes, it was a great period of time and it was so long ago. These wonderful students, who visited professor’s lectures with great interest and perceived history as their favorite subject, came to this lecture-hall even after graduation. Very often they gather together in the professor’s flat or at a nice restaurant and enthusiastically discussed different medieval features and important events that lead to exact consequences.

These friendly conversations sent them back to the glorious times of John R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, Oscar Wilde and John Keats, English pubs and literary societies, of boundless inspiration and mental liberation. At this very moment they seemed to represent the high life of Wien. But now the aristocratic circle still remained only in professor’s precise mind, because most of his interlocutors and beloved guests of his modest flat had already moved to other cities and countries. It was not so easy to find the respective job in Wien for well-educated man; builders and ordinary workers were thought to be more important people in this city. Most of the seniors had also got their own families – wives and children, so they became busier people with more serious problems, than visiting the old forgotten professor.

A faint note of sadness crossed Rufus’ mind just for a moment, but last time he got used to the pessimistic outlook. About a year ago, Rufus lost his dearest wife, who had been his only buttress in the whole life. The reality had been colored in the shade of endless grief since then. His wonderful daughter, who however couldn’t be called the extraordinary individual, fell in love with Indian architect and moved to the most mysterious country in the world, following her husband. Almost for a year old Rufus had been alone – without family and friends, but he had had the last bright star on the sky of his reality. It was history – the subject that took about fifty years of the professor’s life and sucked out the remains of Rufus’ soul and body. That morning the last page of the professor’s world was cruelly burnt down – Rufus Schoenster was fired from the university because of his respectable age. That fatal morning a young joyful woman stepped in the history lecture-hall, like a barbarian entering Parthenon. Dressed in the short top and tore jeans she was laughing loudly, hardly moving on the high heels of her shoes. Looked at the new teacher with disapproval, Rufus took his poor belongings and came out of the lecture-hall, that had become almost native for the old professor.

Such unhappy thoughts filled the tired Rufus’ mind, while he was sitting in the Volksgarten, but his favorite book was one of the good professor’s friends last time, so the Scandinavian history raised his mood. Nevertheless, the sky had become dark and it was time to go home. With great pleasure old Rufus walked along the wide streets and passed the large green parks, alternating with magnificent palaces. A wonderful surprise was waiting for the professor at home – Rufus unexpectedly found a worn envelope in his letter-box. The message was from one of the professor’s former students and there were only a few lines:

“Dear Mr. Shoenster,
I hope, that you still remember me, your former student, John Miller. At this very moment my family and I live in Svalbard, where I am working with the unusual archeological sight. I think it would be interesting for you to have a look at it, but nevertheless I will send you the detailed report about this investigation soon. What is the situation in Wien about? How are you doing? Hope, everything is alright with you, your family and our university. Well, I have got a little present for you. As I remember, one of your dreams was to visit Norway one day…So, I have collected enough money and bought you a first-class ticket to Bergen with the open date. It is something insignificant that I can do for you as the gratitude for all these knowledge and skills you have given me and other students. Have a nice trip and write me please a few words, when you have enough time.
Yours sincerely,
John.”

During several minutes the old professor was standing still, staring at the sheet of paper in his hands. Rufus couldn’t believe his eyes; the whole palette of different emotions – happiness, hope, gratitude, uncertainty, distrust – filled professor’s heart at this very moment. This offer seemed to be the chapter of fantasy novel, but John Miller really existed and Rufus didn’t have anything to lose, so he immediately began to set out. Old professor took his shabby trunk and packed up all the necessary clothes, among which there were just two shirts, his favorite dark-blue jacket, a pair of jogging shoes and a pair of comfortable jeans. Much more difficult for Rufus was to choose the limited number of books to take with him for John and for the new researches. There were so many transactions of a scientific society that finally the professor came to a wonderful decision – he would take only one of his last publications as a present for John and that would be all. It was the new trip with new impressions that couldn’t be compared with previous Rufus’ experience, so he didn’t rely on any specific literature, but found a thick notebook with blank pages and was ready to use it as a diary.

Mr. Shoenster added to his luggage a family photo, at which his wife had been alive and their daughter had been living together with her parents. Earlier Rufus sometimes set off for official journey or rested in warm countries with his family during the holiday, but the professor had never been asked about the place he would like to see most of all. He was dreaming of Norway, but couldn’t leave the university or make his wife and daughter change their preferences. Now Rufus began his last journey, which as he thought was a part of the road, leading to Heaven, where his dearest Vanessa was waiting for her husband. Mr. Shoenster was really happy – his eyes were shining brightly and on his way to the airport Rufus tried to help someone and smiled to everyone. He felt a little bit crazy and time to time it seemed to the professor that soon he would start to dance and sing right here, on the bus. Later Rufus saw Bergen through the porthole at the height of the bird’s flight – it was a spectacular view. Even standing on the ground Mr. Shoenster admitted that Norway was beautiful from any point of observation.

Right away after his arrival the professor bought the train ticket to Svalbard and the next day met John. The former student looked intelligent, satisfied with life and friendly and was pleased to see Rufus. John showed his guest an interesting archeological site, told him about the previous investigations and successes and invited the professor to his home. The dinner cooked by John’s wife was delicious and after that almost the whole night old friends spent in memories. In the morning, despite John’s hospitality, Rufus presented him the book taken from Wien, said good-bye, referred to the cold Svalbard weather and intention to visit other parts of Norway and made his way towards Trondheim in order to return to Bergen soon.

Every day Mr. Shoenster spent in museums or parks, examining old churches and unique natural heritage, and wrote down the most important information in the evening, sitting in a cozy restaurant. Once he visited the great Sognefjord, which seemed to be an emotional and a semantic culmination of the whole trip, or maybe – of the whole life. With the help of local inhabitants the professor, who was good company, found the loneliest part of the fjord. There Rufus lay down on the ground and made a note in his diary. “Now there is the Sognefjord in front of me… Unbelievable, isn’t it? It looks like something that has fallen down from another world, like the window to the Paradise…” – these were the last words in Rufus’ notebook before he fell asleep forever…