This is my entry for the Tell a Story to Me contest

Clare was walking quickly down the street; she had been late to get to her appointment. She had promised to be part of the church's charitable group, helping to entertain the elderly of the Sacred Heart retreat house. But as usual, her cell phone battery had died, for some reason, it never lasted. Perhaps it was because she was seeing pictures of kittens on Instagram.

She carefully opened the entrance gate and, looking everywhere, quickly entered through the back door of the institution.

— You're late!

The scare of the phrase almost took her out of her body. She swallowed loudly at the disapproving expression of the director of the nursing home. Clare was going to defend herself, but immediately the director raised her hand with the palm up and put it close to her mouth.

— The chewing gum

Clare put it on the palm of the principal's hand with her tongue.

With an even harsher and more reprobate expression, she added

— You better hurry; everyone in your group will be assigned a patient.

Clare nodded and accelerated her walk down the hallway of the institution.

At the end of the corridor were two glass doors. She turned the door handle and immediately opened it. The screeching of the hinges betrayed her presence. All the people in the room looked at the girl.

The nurse on duty continued to instruct the group of girls in front of her. Clare quietly entered the hall and approached the group.

— And with these, girls; I conclude the induction course. Nurse Edna will assign all of you to the patients you will help today.

The nurse waved her hand towards Clare, indicating that she should wait. Clare wrinkled her face and sat down to wait.

Once she had finished answering the concerns of one of the girls, she turned to Clare.

— You're late! Come and join me. What's your name?

The nurse left the room without looking back.

Clare stood up and followed the nurse, who wouldn't stop talking.

— For the time being, we will assign you to Mr. Okubo, you only have to attend to his needs. Whatever setbacks you have, don't hesitate to call one of the nurses.

They stopped in front of a wooden door with the number 6 carved on the top.

The nurse knocked on the door and took the doorknob and opened it.

— Good afternoon Mr. Okubo

— What's good about them?

the old man replied reluctantly

— She is...

The nurse looked at Clare and she answered

— Clare

— She's gonna be with you all afternoon today, Mr. Okubo.

— I don't need a babysitter

— Whatever you say, I'll come by at 6 pm to get your meds.

The nurse turned her back on the old man and left the room whispering

— Good luck to you.

The old man was sitting in a small armchair. The room was small, yet because of the few things it had, it seemed to be more spacious than it appeared.

Everything was splendidly arranged. There was a small bed, with a sheet tightly fitted to the mattress, without a visible wrinkle. An impeccably white pillow. Beside the bed was a small table with a glass and a plastic jug. On the other side were wooden slats attached to the wall, which served as a base for a pile of Japanese books next to a strange rock and a small toy plane.

The old man, from his armchair, could not stop seeing the landscape through the only window in the room.

Clare took a breath of air and put her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Mr. Okubo looked at her for a moment. Clare smiled back, yet the old man ignored her and continued to appreciate the scenery.

The moment became monotonous; finally, Clare commented

— That quartz rock is very beautiful.

Tears began to flow from the old man's eyes.

For a moment, Clare worried; perhaps she had revived some bad memory. She took off her jacket and tied it to her waist, dragged the bench on one side of the door to where the armchair was.

The squeaking of the chair's legs surprised the old man, who looked at the girl in fright.

Clare took the glass and filled it with water, looked directly into his eyes and placed her hand on the old man's wrinkled hand.

— Would you like some water?

The old man, surprised by the girl's touch, nodded meekly.

After helping him drink water, Clare took the sleeve of his jacket and wiped the old man's lips and tears that had escaped from his eyes.

Clare decided to keep quiet, to avoid reviving the old man's experience.

Suddenly she was surprised to hear the old man

— I used to fly a Japanese Zero.

— Much like the little airplane on my shelf.

The old man, without taking his eyes off the window, pointed his arthritic finger at the wooden slats.

— We were terrible; no one could bring us down. There was no opponent who could beat me in a dogfight.

Clare had no idea what the old man was talking about, but she decided not to interrupt him.

— In mid of 1945, we were sent on a suicide mission against an American aircraft carrier near Japanese waters. As usual, we cut our fingernails to leave something of us to bury.

— But on our way to our destination, we could feel a big explosion in the distance, a big light covered the skies, and a big fungus covered Japan. Many of us lost control of our instruments.

— Without realizing it, I found myself far north from where I should have been. I noticed it because of the change in temperature. It had descended too far, my wings began to be covered with ice making it difficult for the aircraft to maneuver. I wanted to land, but couldn't find a place to descend.

— Finally, my ship's fuel ran out, so I started planning enough to stay in the air as long as I could.

— I expected to find the ice from the North Pole, but as much as I continued I couldn't find it. Suddenly the sun stayed in front of me or that's what I thought at the time.

The old man began to cough. Clare gave him water again.

— Arigatou gozaimasu

There was a slight knock on the door and again the nurse on duty entered the room with the medicines.

— Visiting hours are over Clare

Clare said goodbye to the old man but whispered to him that she would return again.

In the director's office, two people discussed the medicine inventory and the week's meal plan.

— I heard old Okubo had a talk with one of the church girls for over two hours.

— Yes, that's surprising. The girl looked a bit clueless; we thought she wouldn't last 10 minutes with the cranky old man.

Both women laughed low.

The following week, Clare had arrived very early at the nursing home.

The nurse on duty was surprised to know that the girl wanted to spend the morning with the old man in room number 6.

— Room number 6? Asked again

Clare nodded

— All right

Clare headed for door number 6. While the nurse whispered "Goodness".

Clare knocked on the door softly and opened the door.

— Sumimasen, Okubo san

— Come in, Clare.

The old man looked happier than the last time she saw him.

— I'm glad you're here early. I want to continue my story

Clare dragged the stool again to bring it closer to the old man's armchair and took a small plastic container out of her backpack. She uncovered it and showed the old man its contents.

The old man was surprised to see the fruit salad cut into squares.

She pulled out a pair of toothpicks and pricked a pair of squares and shared them with the old man.

When he was satisfied, the old man leaned back in his armchair and went on with his story.

“For a while, I thought it was the sun, the one in front of me. But its light was not hot, unlike sunlight.

At last, I was able to see in the distance a place where I could land my plane. Fortunately, I managed to get unharmed from the crash landing.

My radio didn't pick up any signal. I began to realize the strange phenomena that occurred in the place where I had descended. No matter how much time passed, the sun did not hide; there were strange birds that I had never seen before, of many colors and long beaks. As there was no night, I lost the sense of time.

For a while I did not leave the coast where my plane was, waiting for some kind of rescue. Then, tired of waiting and also because of the scarcity of water, I decided to leave. I took everything I could carry and entered the wooded area around the coast.

I took my katana and made my way through the undergrowth.

I wandered for a period of 48 hours, reached the end of a cliff, where I realized that it was not an island where I had landed. The meadow I managed to see stretched out so far that my eyes couldn't see where it ended.

I went on my way in search of water, my body could not take any more, that's when I fainted. I thought that the end of my life had arrived.

However, sometime later, I woke up inside a hut made of mud, leaves, and logs.

I had been saved by a primitive tribe. At first, I was frightened thinking that I had been taken prisoner by some people sympathetic to the enemy. Fortunately, my katana was by my side. I drew my sword and prepared for combat.

But there was something particular about these people. They could not speak. But they communicated with each other, as well as with me, in a way never before known.

In my mind, I heard a voice that at first, I thought was in Japanese. This voice told me not to be afraid. Stubborn as usual, I shook my head and waited for them to appear in front of me. Then the most beautiful woman I have ever seen appeared.

— There is nothing to fear, our race is not a warlike race like yours, Mr. Okubo.

She didn't move her lips, but I could hear her thoughts, just like she could hear mine.

I knelt in front of her, thinking they were deities I had offended. I offered her my katana as a sign of respect. The woman approached me and told me to go with her.

As I went out, I could hear many other voices in my mind welcoming me. The tribe was a descendant of the Atlantes, a very advanced race that destroyed the land where they lived, as they were influenced by greed, avarice and the arrogance of believing themselves to be the most advanced race in the world.

To the naked eye, they were people just like me. They were vegetarians. To them, all life, however small, was revered.

By communicating mentally, everyone knew each other's feelings, even though they respected each other's privacy. There was no envy, resentment, or any kind of bad feeling between them. They lived peacefully. A completely utopian society.

They didn't know the concept of money; men and women worked equally. They cooked, tilled the soil or cared for their children in the same way.

Even though there was no defined hierarchy between them, there was a shaman or something similar to a saint man, who resolved the conflicts in the village. In addition, he also played the role of the doctor of the tribe, for his great knowledge of the human body and plants. He represented a kind of chief within the clan.

It was hard for me to understand where I was. I was still on the same planet, but not on the outside, but rather on the inside. The concept of a hollow Earth was inconceivable to me. Yet there I was.

There, time did not pass in the same way as conventional time, and possibly years would have passed since my arrival, although it seemed to me to have been a few months. Perhaps that explained the strange prehistoric creatures and plants I had seen during my expedition.

Finally, I got used to living with them. The beautiful woman became my partner. We built a home. But as much as we wanted to, we never had children. The shaman explained to me that it was because of the difference in our bodies."

The old man started coughing again. Clare called the nurse, who came immediately to see the old man.

Clare said goodbye to him once he calmed his coughing fit.

Before leaving, the nurse told Clare that the director wanted to see her.

Clare was sitting in the office waiting for the director. On the large desk in front of her was a pile of folders and accounting books, along with a phone that might have been purchased during World War II. A worn frame with a black and white photograph watched her from where it was; yellowish from the rays of the sun that slipped through the moldy curtains. A couple of young people, standing firmly and dressed in a very neat manner, scrutinized her with a contemptuous attitude.

She heard the heels on the director's shoes. No one else wore heels in the nursing home. Clare remembered that she had gum in her mouth, so she discreetly took it out and glued it under the chair.

The director came in saying good afternoon to Clare and sat down all of a sudden. The chair squeaked as if protesting to receive the director's full weight.

— I wanted to congratulate you for making Mr. Okubo a patient more — she paused — friendly.

The director looked at Clare over her small semicircular glasses.

— Whatever you're doing, don't stop.

After receiving some folders, Clare was able to leave the incense stinking office.

The following week, Clare brought another fruit salad. The old man drew a smile as he saw her arrive. This time he wasn't sitting on his couch. He was lying on the bed.

She offered some of the fruit she brought but the old man politely rejected her.

— I wish to continue my story if you don't mind.

— It is a pleasure for me to hear your story - answered Clare.

The old man continued with his narration

“Time passed. I got used to working the land like them. To participate in their thank-you ceremonies and other customs associated with the social life of the tribe.

But soon I began to suffer the effects of that strange land. My arms and legs hardened and it was difficult for me to walk. The shaman examined me and came to the conclusion that my body did not tolerate the atmosphere of the interior of the planet, not having been born there; my body had not developed enough strength to withstand the environment.

The shaman ordered me to return to my world otherwise I would perish.

Lily was very sad. But she understood that she didn't want me to die. The shaman showed us the way to a cave leading to the outside but warned Lily not to enter my world.

We walked the path a long time until we reached the entrance to the cave. Others from the tribe had accompanied us and helped carry me on a makeshift stretcher when I could no longer walk.

I made every human effort to enter the cave, but my legs were very stiff. Lily offered to help me enter. She told me that she would not stay long and that way she could be happy to know that I could reach my world.

None of us could foresee the lie she was hiding.

I leaned on her shoulder and we set out on a journey into the cave. With each step I took, my strength returned. I was so happy that I did not perceive her pain. The cave formed a tunnel between the two worlds. By the time I realized that I was no longer listening to her thoughts, it was too late. She lost consciousness and I held her tightly in my arms. To my surprise, her body turned to sand and crumbled in front of me, leaving that rock in her place.

I stayed by her remains for a long time. The other end of the cave was very cold, I thought about lying next to her, I was sure that I would perish from hypothermia if I slept next to her remains. But the honor for her sacrifice prevented me from losing my life. I wiped away my tears and took the rock and continued on my way.

The country where I arrived was called Iceland and it was the year 1960. The war was over many years ago.”

The old man was silent for a few moments. He was happy to have shared the story he had never told.

Clare was very moved by the end of his story.

— I want to ask you a favor

— I'll be happy to help you in any way I can, — answered Clare.

— I want you to take that rock to the sea.

He gestured to the bookshelf.

Clare opened her eyes surprised to learn that that rock was the rock of the story she had just heard.

Clare promised the old man she would. He thanked her and told her that he wished to rest. Clare took the rock away.

The following week, after fulfilling her promise, upon returning to the nursing home, the nurse on duty informed Clare that Mr. Okubo had died a few days ago.

Clare sadly made her way out of the nursing home but was stopped by the director.

— I want to thank you for giving Mr. Okubo good times in his last days.

— He left you this.

The director gave her a cardboard box, turned around and went to her office.

Tears overflowed as Clare looked at the contents of the box.

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