Chapter №5 – Literally Literate

“Cough, cough, it really dusty down there…” Boris felt like the air had come alive and began strangling him the moment he had stepped into the room. He was beginning to regret going along with little Rabanowicz. They had gone down a few floors, and Boris was pretty sure that he was underground by now. The air had gotten musky, the surroundings darker and the walls were cold as Boris and Rabanowicz walked along them for direction.

“As I said, it’ll be worth it! The buhenlib is a fun place! Plus, I do have to go there today, and it’s so boring when it’s only Mister David and me.” Little Rabanowicz coarsened and deepened her voice as much as she could do imitate an old man “Adohe shelmiy Adonem, katan Rabanovish-kavodgvert. Leke khay pocznim?” Rabanowicz laughed at her own joke so boisterously that Boris had to plug his ears not to immediately become deaf.

After he was sure that Rabanowicz had worn out the excesses of her comedy, Boris unplugged his fingers from his ears “What language that was?” The language that Rabanowicz had just spouted was definitely different compared to Hungarian(?). Boris felt humiliated to have been defeated by a little girl in terms of multilingualism.

“Hm? It’s the… it’s the words that Mister David teaches me. Everybody in the house knows them. Don’t you?” asked Rabanowicz, taking a pause from the walking to rest her legs.

“I no know any word when I wake up. I learn when stay here for time” replied Boris. He pushed Rabanowicz forward, wanting to not spend any more time navigating corridors if necessary.

“Hmm…” Rabanowicz turned her head around to look at Boris. She opened her mouth, and then closed it back again without making a sound.

Boris raised his brow “What is problem? Say if there is something.”

“Mm, nothing.” concluded Rabanowicz, turning back around. She excitedly pointed at a door that was five times taller and wider than her “Look, it is the buhenlib!”

Kid, don’t move your mouth if you aren’t going to say anything, internally complained Boris. The giant door distracted him before he could complain further. It looked to be a heavy wooden piece reinforced with countless metal strips, though it opened unexpectedly effortlessly when Boris and Rabanowicz pushed on it. With a loud creak and a crackle, the door revealed the scene behind it: a library with countless bookshelves extending far into the sky. It was dark, but Boris swiftly noticed a lantern which had been sat right next to the entrance on a shelf. The lantern was made out of brass and the shape was fit for a genie to reside in. Boris rubbed the lantern with a modicum of hope, though all that came out was regular non-magical dust. There was some wicker on the lamp, but there was nowhere to light it. “What do now?”

“He should be there.” Rabanowicz pointed to a small, far-away dot of lighting which was very easy to miss. She walked forward and Boris followed. He felt small, mostly because he was small, but also because the bookshelves overshadowed him. Boris couldn’t help but sneeze as the dust combined with the smell of molded pages irritated his lungs. There were five stories of books on each side with ladders placed on every shelf in case one wasn’t a giant of biblical proportions capable of reaching the top without assistance. Boris tried to read the titles of the books as he passed by, but it was either too dark for him to read clearly or, as it felt like to him, the text was complete gibberish. The script was neither Cyrillic or Latin, or so it seemed like when it all blended together in the dark. He’d have stopped and took a look if not for the fact that most of the books looked like they’d crumble into dust even with the slightest of touch. Boris wasn’t willing to bear punishment just to satiate his curiosity. What good does reading do for a man anyways? All one needs is a steady hand and a well-maintained rifle to stay alive.

Boris’ idle thoughts came to a stop when he and Rabanowicz arrived at the source of the light. There was a low table where a gas lamp, shaped like a tulip and fancifully decorated at the base with brass, was standing. Around the table were a few soft pillows for sitting, and on one pillow was a girl doing just that.

“Wait, did he get-” exclaimed Boris, abruptly stopping himself. From what that brat was imitating and talking about just now, I thought we were going to meet an old man… has he had the same fate as me? Examining her closer, Boris’ judgement became even more clear. The girl, or the old man, had an unassuming countenance to say the least. She had brown hair that, without any harmony or rhythm, flowed down to her shoulders. Her eyes and attention were firmly fixed on the book that she was holding, with her look being completed by an oversized black frame of her glasses and freckles on both her cheeks. In terms of age, she looked to be the same as Rabanowicz; whether she was close to Boris in age was another question entirely. Most likely, Boris thought, he’d be older than Boris. The way he olds himself is of a great-grandfather, I’m sure of that. A man of my own age wouldn’t be rotting in a library like this.

“Hm? Oh, David?” Rabanowicz turned around to-and-fro, the hem of her long and wide dress raising up quite the dust storm. Boris swore that they wouldn’t need maids if they could just get Rabanowicz to do the dusting work herself. “He isn’t here…”

“Uh, I think…” Boris reluctantly pointed a finger at the girl in front of him “David is no more.”

“What?!” shouted Rabanowicz, prompting the sitting girl to jump back in shock. She dropped the book from her hands, and her glasses dropped to the floor from how brisk her jump was. “David is no more?!”

“W-what?!” shouted the girl back at them “Who do you have with you, Rab? I can’t see them…”

“I, Boris Borisović. In same situation as you, sir.” replied Boris. He saw David freeze upon being found out. “Is mad… mad knowledge-man do same thing to you?”

“What…”

“What?”

Before Boris could explain further, he heard footsteps breaking the quiet of the library. Whoever it was, they were running as if their life depended on it. The owner of the footsteps came into view before Boris could consider fleeing. “Dear! Are you okay?” Out from the darkness came a familiar bald figure in a green frock coat. It was the man that Boris had seen upon waking up, though he was carrying a large handbag that looked like it was about to burst.

“Papa, I’m okay, but I think this girl in front of me is not.” said the girl while pointing at Boris with a frown on her face “She told me mean things.”

“Oh dear…” The man stopped to adjust his little spectacles before he took a look at the girl in question “Who are you… to…” He stopped, gasping. “Wait, you’re still standing? How?!”

“Was I suppose to die?” asked Boris.

His question was promptly ignored.

The man rummaged his bag and took out a stethoscope. He knelt down and placed the stethoscope’s diaphragm on Boris’ chest. “Could you cough?”

Boris would’ve normally objected, but years of medical examinations in the army had gotten him used to doctors suddenly making odd requests. “Ahem, ahem.” He let out the most unenthusiastic cough in the history of mankind.

“Completely normal.” The old man retracted the stethoscope, saying “normal” in a manner that was way too amazed to be normal. “You shouldn’t be standing, breathing or having a heart beat…”

What, did you try and kill me and fail, asked Boris. He wasn’t bold enough to ask it out loud. “What you mean?”

“Do you not remember anything?” The old man seized the cranium of Boris, turning his head around to examine it. “It’d not be unusual if you lost your memories.”

“David mister, please don’t tire her out.” Rabanowicz pushed David’s arm away from Boris’ cranium. She was nowhere physically strong enough to actually push an adult’s hand away, but her authority was enough to get him to stop his examination. “Boris has been doing well and accompanying me for a while. I don’t think you need to look at her more.”

“Adohe shelmiy Adonem, katan Rabanovish-kavodgvert… Either I was gravely mistaken, which I don’t think I could have been mistaken about such a clear case, or we have a genuine miracle on our hands. I thought that maybe she was sleepwalking in a state of fever in her last moments when I saw her wake up and immediately collapse.” David took another look at Boris, who looked completely healthy save for the fact that he was in the completely wrong body.

“Clear case?” Boris last remembered half of his body being separate from the other half. He had to agree that it was a clear case. “Where you find me?”

“Outside of the mansion. Do you know where you came from?” replied David. He rummaged around the shelves before he found a large book “Could you show it to me on the map?”

“Sure.” Boris was confident that he could point out where Montenegro was on a world map. He wasn’t that uneducated. David opened up the book, revealing a page that contained what looked to be a map of some sort. While Boris wasn’t a geography expert, he was sure that Earth didn’t look like this: three large landmasses, two far away from each other, while another two were close to each other. He didn’t really have words to explain how the map was shaped, but he was sure that this wasn’t what Earth looked like. “Is map recent?”

David nodded. “Yes, this is the newest edition of Döneruf Buhenlas. There shouldn’t be any maps more accurate than this.”

“I- I no recognize any place on here.” Boris looked up, he looked down, he looked right, left, and then up to ask God for help which he didn’t receive, and then down to curse his bad fortune.

“That’s not too surprising.” David closed the book. “Elisheva dear, could you put this back?”

“Yeah.” The girl, apparently called Elisheva, got to work on putting the book back while David got back to talking with Boris.

“I guess we’re out of luck if you can’t remember where you’re from.” David took one last look at Boris. It was clear that he had so many questions from how intent his stare was. Yet, all he could do was sigh. “Let me not waste more of Lady Rabanowicz’s lesson time. You can sit with us if you’d like.”

David sat down on a pillow, and so did Rabanowicz. “Come on, you should learn something or two” she said to Boris.

David took out another book while Boris took a seat. “Today, my lady, we’ll go over letters. I think you’re at the right age to begin reading and writing. Elisheva, get her… get them something to write on, please.”

As Boris got a clean sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal handed to him, he thought of the foreign map he had seen. The strange script on the books, and the odd language of the locals who sounded nothing like any of the languages local to his area…

Boris, I don’t think we’re in the Balkans anymore.