- Let's sit by the table under that oak. I saw you were not loved by your father, said the lawyer.
- Did he tell you this?
- No. But he donated all his fortune to charity and left you only an envelope. Looking at how your outfit looks, I'd say you could've used at least a percent of his shares.
- I'm doing just fine, thank you, answered he straight.
- He told me this about you, when he made his instructions, that you think you're fine. Anyhow, this is not my concern. All I have to do is give you this envelope. And he placed a white envelope on the table.
- Thank you! As the lawyer was still standing there, he dared to say that he can read it by himself, no need for the lawyers help.
- I'm sure you can, but your father instructed me to stay with you until you read it all and then add one more thing.
- And what is that thing?
- I'll tell you when you're done reading.
- As you wish, Mr.Lawyer. He opened the letter with his bare hands, crumpling it terribly. By the markings he could tell that the letter had been written on a typewriter.
- He could've at least written it with its own hands, sulked he.
- He did. But at that time your father was already too sick to write it by hand. But at least he typed it, no one else read it, if this is your worry. Please read it.
As you read these lines, you've probably already seen me as you sometimes wished for me to be. I do not wish to discuss this here nor never. It is a too tiring thing to do and I don't have the necessary strength anymore. Rather I would like to give you some advice as a man in his eighth and last decade of life. You may choose to listen to them or just to ignore them. Whatever you'll do I will be happy that I did what I think was my duty, that is to share some knowledge to you as my son.
First of all, I had cared about your mother. I care and miss her even now, though I do not know anything about her for some 30 years. I have tried to explain to myself, to try to understand my actions with regard to her, the things I said and done, of which you maybe know from her, but I have failed. I have only excuses that make me even more mad. I cannot tell you how not to make my mistakes. Nor can I tell you something about that thing that people use to call "love". From my point of view there is no such thing, but just chemicals and the resulting poor judgment. But I have found that there exists something very important in life and here I want to get. There is in every human being's heart a need to be accompanied through life, to share the weight on his shoulder. This is what troubled me without realizing it for most of my life and unfortunately I got to understand it only now. We need someones, whether we're criminals or idiots, we need someone. And not just someone every month. We need them for all the run, to know us and use this knowledge to out own advantage. I emphasize this as I am to tell you that I've followed your life through eyes that I have hired. I needed to know if you are well, blame me if you want. Those eyes told me you are a wanderer, that you waste your life travelling without a purpose. I tried to guess why you do this. Many answers came to my head, but I couldn't choose one. It doesn't matter anyway, because most certainly my advice would be for all you do to stop. Whatever you're trying to do or prove, it has to stop because you're just wasting your life. You are in your fourth decade and you're still alone. You might think you're not, but you'll realize latter that you are. All those friends you made on the road, all those nights in hostels, surely make you feel different, but it isn't so. I'm sure you feel sometimes like I often felt during the night or morning when I was sad without knowing why. Loneliness is a strange thing, it tricks you. You may surround you with all the persons in the telephone book, but if that right person is not among them, it is all in vain. I have tasted this as you know. I found that person once and I chased it away. Don't make my mistake. Settle down a while, meet some people from the place where you'll be and try to see a person, focus on her. If you think you're unhappy, try to see whether this does not come from yourself. Isolate more with that person from the outside world for a while, try to release yourself from the misconceptions that this world plants into us. For what I know, we pay too much attention to the collective brain, not to our own. I hope you see the points I'm making, without laughing of me. Even if you're laughing, at least think of giving this life I'm wishing for you a try. You seem to be having a lot of time, use it to try this. If you'll regret, well, you can curse me one more times, I don't mind. I guess this is all I have to say to you. It's almost a shame, I'm dying and I can leave so less wisdom... My lawyer will add something to this letter, that I did not consider proper writing, considering it childish, quite worthy of kindergarten children. But it seems the only right thing that I could do for you at the moment. Take care, son!
The lawyer was looking into his eyes, but could see nothing. Only he heard him saying that he would prefer to leave now.
- So please tell me what he wanted to tell me more.
- He wanted you to remember Anne.
Ah, yes! Anne, he thought and blood rushed to his cervix. Memories started sliding in front of his eyes and sadness froze his face.
- I remember Anne.
- I knew you would, spoke the lawyer as he pushed on the table a little piece of folded paper. Your father leaves you as inheritance her address. She doesn't have anyone.
"And there it goes, that ruthless old man did a good deed in the end," thought the lawyer as that not so young man left from that table without saying anything, but with that piece of paper in his pocket. The lawyer cleaned his pants from dust and rushed to his own business.