Facing the suspension days had been easy so far. Between the trip and his job, time passed quickly, which was a relief when at home the only thing left was a difficult void to fill. But this day was different. Sunny couldn't keep missing classes, and for the first time in days, he was truly alone.
The morning passed in a thick silence. He tidied the house out of inertia, then prepared some food with the intention of visiting Professor Krikket. However, the note with Eleonor García's name was still there, sinking into his desk like an impossible weight to ignore. As he completed his chores, the idea of calling her crossed his mind again and again, so many times that it was irritating to admit.
In the end, there was only one answer: if he was going to walk this path, he would walk it to the end. There were no intermediate stops, or at least that's what he wanted to believe. The possibility of turning back was always there, like an emergency exit he preferred not to consider.
Without thinking too much, he picked up the paper and dialed the number. The dialing sound seemed unbearably long.
Someone finally answered.
"Hello...?"
It was a woman's voice, sweet but with the weight of years in each syllable.
"Excuse me for bothering you. Am I speaking with Eleonor García?"
"Yes, speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"
"Tomás Lambert. I don't intend to take up much of your time, but I need your help."
There was a brief silence, but uncomfortable enough for Tomás to feel like he was walking on thin ice. "Excuse me, but... how could I help you? It's the first time I've heard your name."
"I know. You don't know me, but the vice-principal of the San Uriel Seminary gave me your number. I hope you don't mind."
"Marta?" the woman seemed surprised. "Well... I didn't expect that."
Another silence. Longer this time.
Tomás took a deep breath before speaking. "She told me you could help me."
"With what?"
"I'm looking for Professor Emanuel Krikket's family."
The other end of the line fell completely silent. Tomás almost thought the call had been cut off.
When the answer came, her tone was different. "Emanuel?" The name left her lips with palpable tension. "I... I don't know anything about him. I haven't seen him in many years."
"I know. I'll be honest with you," Tomás swallowed. "The professor is dying, and I'd like his family to know. Do you know where I can find them?"
The sound he heard next wasn't a reply. There was a rustle, as if the woman had accidentally moved the phone, followed by a confused noise.
"Hello? Mrs. Eleonor, are you there?"
Nothing.
"Hello?" he insisted, feeling the growing pressure in his chest. "Please, you're my only lead."
"I'm sorry..."
Her voice had changed. It was no longer firm, nor serene. It was fragile. He heard her swallow, with the difficulty of someone struggling against a lump in their throat.
"Can you tell me how he is?"
The question sounded as if it pained her to utter it, as if she feared the answer.
"He doesn't have much time left," Tomás said softly. "That's why I'm looking for his family. I know they've been estranged for years, but... to be honest, I don't want the professor to die without having seen them one last time."
On the other end, there was a ragged breath. "Is it that serious?"
"Yes. He has very little time left."
"I can't tell you anything without having seen him."
"I can ask him if he wants to see you," Tomás offered, sensing that the conversation was moving in an unexpected direction.
"Please... tell him I want to see him. At least once."
The last words came barely as a murmur, a plea that seemed about to break.
"I will. As soon as I have an answer, I'll let you know."
"Please... thank you."
And the call ended.
Tomás remained still, phone still in hand. He had more questions than before, but a certainty hit his stomach with the force of a fist: Eleonor did know something. And whatever connected her to Krikket hadn't disappeared with the years.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When he arrived at the hospital, his doubts had fully taken root in his mind. They had silently slipped in, invading every corner of his thoughts, and now they were strangling him from within. Something told him that the professor would not easily accept his request.
He checked in at the entrance and took the elevator up. With each ascending floor number, the pressure in his chest grew heavier. He walked down the corridor, and for an instant he felt that the professor's room was further away than last time. As if the world itself wanted to keep him from that encounter.
He crossed the threshold of the room and found him looking out the window, his gaze lost on the beach. Outside, the leaden sky merged with the sea in an indistinct line, without horizon, without destination. The waves punished the sand with incessant fury, like a whip that never ceased.
Without turning, the professor greeted him with a weak but firm voice: "Tomás."
"Professor," he replied, approaching the window.
The room was empty, save for the two of them. The unoccupied beds around them accentuated the feeling of abandonment, of that room being a threshold between the world of the living and oblivion.
Krikket seemed more fragile, his skin thinner, almost translucent under the gray light. The color had drained from his face, as if the illness was slowly erasing him. He was a specter contemplating infinity, awaiting the moment when the wind would sweep him away.
The professor looked at him intently; his eyes still shone, still alive. "You seem burdened with doubts, young man. Your face screams for help."
Tomás lowered his gaze for just an instant. "Professor... are you and I on the same train now?"
Krikket smiled bitterly. "We are, Tomás. Can't you see it?"
He looked away to the sea, searching in the waves for the answer he couldn't find within himself. "I want to believe I'm doing something good."
"Then why do you doubt? If you believe your cause is just, don't stop. Justice is on the side of those who do good."
"I don't want to hurt you."
The professor let out a slight, broken, joyless laugh. "Me?" he coughed, and his whole body trembled. "Look at me, young man... I'm dying. What could harm me at this point?"
The waves continued to break on the shore, grey, deep, indifferent.
"Just because you're like this doesn't mean I can add to your pain."
"If you believe you're doing good, you shouldn't become a coward for a little pain." He coughed again, this time harder, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. "Friends don't apologize to each other, Tomás. We just move forward."
He didn't want to ask. He didn't want to poke at his mentor's wounds, not when he was closer to death than to seeing another sunrise. "On this journey, there are no intermediate stops."
"There never were, Tomás. Not today, from what I see."
For the first time in a long time, Tomás dared to stare at him. Until then, he had avoided doing so, out of fear, out of pity. But now he saw him clearly. His skin, his fragility, the way every bone stood out beneath his flesh, the fine network of veins tracing his skin like a map of the inevitable. And yet, his eyes... His eyes were still as alive as ever.
Krikket was not afraid of death. But he was afraid of what he had left behind.
Tomás swallowed. "Eleonor García wants to see you."
The silence became heavy.
The professor blinked briefly, his gaze breaking for an instant before losing itself again in the grey ocean. He didn't look at him. He didn't speak. But Tomás understood that, at that moment, he was asking for permission to break.
"She asked?" his voice sounded muffled.
"Yes," Tomás replied softly. "She seems to have information about your family. I suppose she'll give it to me after seeing you."
Krikket nodded slowly, as if the movement cost him effort. "Tell her to come, then... if that helps you."
Tomás hesitated before speaking. "Do you want to see her?"
Krikket let out an almost imperceptible sigh. "A part of me, yes. The other part feels a lot of shame."
The silence stretched between them. The waves continued their incessant back and forth. Outside, nurses walked in the distance, echoes of a world that would soon cease to belong to him.
"Aren't you going to ask anything about her?"
"No. But if you want to tell me, I'll listen."
"I'd rather not," he said with a slight tremor in his voice. "My sins are too deep to expose them like that, just like that."
He leaned back with effort, closing his eyes, as if suddenly the whole conversation had exhausted him.
Tomás walked towards the exit. "Thank you, Professor."
"Thank you, young man."
Before closing the door, he looked one last time. Krikket lay in bed, smaller than before. As if part of his soul had already vanished.
Upon leaving the hospital, Tomás immediately sent the message to Eleonor. The professor wanted to see her and he would accompany her.