Dasvidaniya

My name is Roger Woods. I was a U.S. Marine serving in Vietnam. In 1964 my normal life ended when the right side of my face became disfigured. I don’t remember much, just a yellow spark and a burning sensation. The left side of my face was untouched by the blast. The right side was a hilly terrain of bumps and scars after the melted skin cooled and solidified. In a flash, I became a freak.

My Mother cringed when she looked at me. The saying, “You have a face only a Mother could love,” did not apply to me. My Mother died two months later. The guilt and shame from repulsing her only child killed her. My Father died four years earlier, so I was alone. I sold the family home and found a job and residence at the Sunshine Village Elderly facility.

At the Sunshine Village, I worked the graveyard shift as a security guard. The shift was from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. The job entailed walking around Sunshine Village’s hallways and outside grounds at night. Though overnight security was not considered a dream job, for me it was. The focus was staying out of the public eye. I did not want to disgust people like I did with Mother. People were sympathetic to my affliction but wanted the monster hidden. This job allowed me to hide, alone, in the dark. I had limited interaction with the other employees and stayed away from the Residents.

The Sunrise Village was a small medical facility. A year after my hire date, the Village’s Board members broke ground on a large construction project. The project was to provide a golden standard of care for the elderly to live out their final years with dignity and style. There were plans for apartments, townhouses, and dormitories for the more independent residents. Another part of the project was constructing hospital buildings designed for elder’s that needed constant medical attention. Each hospital floor was designated to the elders’ specific challenges. When a resident started to fail physically, needed medication, or had memory loss, they were placed on the appropriate floor.

I was happy with the expansion. Walking along the mid-construction property provided me with more responsibility. There were thieves trying to steal lumber and other supplies around the construction site. It was job security for the lone security guard to scare off the trespassers. I was good at it.

The construction went on for five years. Near the end of the fifth year, most of the buildings were built. A section of the facility called “Main Street” was almost completed. Main Street resembled a shopping mall of fine restaurants, shops, and other amenities for the residents and their visiting families to gather. Outside, in front of the Main Street entrance was a half-constructed white obelisk. The obelisk was a smaller scale of the Washington monument. The monument would greet the visitors as they entered the facility. The object had another purpose as a time capsule. Residents, visitors, and employees placed documents or mementoes into a vault. On September 16^th, 1971, the vault would be sealed shut, placed under ground, and covered by the obelisk. On September 16^th, 2021 the heavy granite obelisk would be removed, and the vault would be unsealed.

The Monument gathered lots of attention by vandals from the surrounding neighborhoods. A lot of the bored teenagers ran around the property at night. Most heard the urban legend of an ugly man that haunted the grounds. I was known as the Quasimodo of Sunrise Village! One early morning, I saw a short figure standing near the half-built obelisk.

“You! Get away from the monument,” I yelled aiming my flashlight at the person.

It was a young Woman, holding a red envelope, staring at me. The Woman had long brown hair that draped over the front of a white gown.

“Isn’t this grand!” The young Woman said with a heavy accent, admiring the monument and building.

I approached the smiling Woman still pointing my flashlight at her. Usually the glimpse of my horrific mug made the trespasser run. The young Woman didn’t flee, instead she stared at me with admiration.

“This place seems so new,” She said looking around.

“That’s because it is new,” I said. “The construction is almost done. Where are you from?” 

“From Russia. I moved here many years ago with my Sister.”

“Years ago? You look very young from being here for many years.” I said.

The Woman just smiled. “My name is Kat.”

“Why are you here?” I asked with a firm voice.

“Da(yes) I wanted to drop off this letter in the time capsule. I was told it is closing soon and wanted to get it in there.

“The vault is for the residents and employees only,” I said. “They are the only ones allowed to put letters and gifts in the time capsule.”

“Please sir, it is very important this letter gets to the appropriate person!”

Kat acted desperate as if someone’s life depended on the letter.

“Let me see it,” I ordered.

I wondered why a Russian woman would be dropping off a letter here. Was she a Russian spy? Was I consorting with a commie?

“Here,” she said handing me the envelope.

“It looks like you wrote a lot of things in there. Kind of heavy.” I said handing back the envelope.

“Is it too big for the box?” she said giving a fearful look.

“No. The vault is very deep. Your letter will fit. The box is over there. There’s a slot on the top for the letters.”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you!”

Kat sighed, looking relieved that I allowed the letter to enter the time capsule.

“You know that whoever the recipient is of your letter, won’t get this for fifty years,” I said. “Maybe you should speak to them directly, before it is too late.”

Kat placed the envelope into the vault.

“Unfortunately, this is the only way,” She said. “It will get to the proper person at the proper time. All in due time! Thank you for allowing me to drop this off!”

The beautiful Russian woman stared at me. I turned away from Kat, but she touched my arm and stopped me. It was a touch so profound that it warmed my soul. Kat’s blue eyes looked at me with love and compassion. I felt acceptance, but perhaps it was just loneliness from a lack of human interaction and attention.

“Will I see you again?” I asked trying not to sound desperate.

She smiled.

“Da! I will see you here,” She said. “I must go now. Dasvidaniya.”

“Dasvee what?” I asked.

“Dasvidaniya. It’s Russian for until we meet again.”

Kat walked away towards the main road.

The years went on. I walked every night to the obelisk looking for Kat, but she never returned. The monument, old and battered, was still set for removal on September 16^th, 2021 to pull out the time capsule. Inside the capsule was Kat’s letter in the red envelope. I wondered what she wrote. Most of the people that left documents in the time capsule were dead. Was the young Russian Woman that intoxicated me that night, gone too? Even if Kat was alive, would she remember that night as fondly as I did?

After working in the dark all those years, I embraced the light and retired from Sunrise Village. As a gift from the village, I went from an employee to a patient-resident living in one of the apartments. I also bid farewell to my constant companion, the Night and greeted the wonders of the day.

I was an old Man with lots of wrinkles. Most people hated wrinkles but for me it camouflaged my facial disaster-piece. My advanced age gave me a new freedom to walk among the living. I found confidence to talk with so many of the residents and employees. I would walk around the property, along the shops on Main street and to the upper floors of the facility. I spent most of my limited time on the Alzheimer’s and dementia floors.

The dementia Residents fascinated me for some odd reason. They would sit in their wheelchairs eye-opened but not alert. It seemed that their minds were living in the past. I spent a lot of time reading to the dementia Patients and felt I was reaching them. A Nurse once told me that a dementia patient’s mind was like a ball on a roulette wheel. The ball would bounce along the rapidly spinning wheel until landing on a numbered slot. That slot was a specific moment in time. The person would live in that moment, slot, until the wheel spun again. I was fascinated listening to the dementia Residents speak, knowing their minds were in another place and time. I wondered if they were actually there.

A few years later, I became forgetful. The Doctor told me that I was in the early stages of dementia. I ended up moving to the dementia wing for constant care. I was still able to read to the group, but it was getting harder. Also, my concept of time was gone as still photo images of my life moved around in my mind. The roulette wheel was gathering speed. The spinning wheel didn’t scare me, I just didn’t want my roulette ball to land on my time in Vietnam.  

September 16^th, 2021 had arrived! Most of the residents and employees ventured outside to the monument for the reveal ceremony. The maintenance Workers dismounted and removed the obelisk from its foundation using a large crane. Then straps were used to pull out the time capsule. The box looked just like it did when Kat placed the red envelope in it fifty years ago. After numerous letters were pulled out and read, Mrs. Doyle the Facilities Administrator held Kat’s red envelope and opened it.

“Is Roger Woods here?” Mrs. Doyle asked. “Roger?”

I raised my hand. A Nurse’s Aide rushed to my wheelchair and rolled me to the front of the crowd to face Mrs. Doyle.

“Roger! This letter is for you!” She said with excitement. “You had a secret admirer back in the day!”

I shrugged my shoulders. Mrs. Doyle started to read the letter but stopped.

“This letter was dated September 8^th, 2021,” Mrs. Doyle said. “Eight days ago? How can that be? Odd.”

Mrs. Doyle continued.

“Dear Roger Woods,

My name is Katerina Davidov. It’s been years since we met on September 3^rd, 1971. Actually, 1971 was the date when we officially spoke to each other. Since 2018, I have watched you but was unable to talk to you. I’m a dementia care patient on the memory loss wing in room 207. Even though I couldn’t talk to you, I could see and hear you. I enjoyed the books you read to us, though now I know your ability to read is becoming difficult. I know that you were sad leaving your apartment and moving to the dementia wing.”

Mrs. Doyle stopped and looked at one of her male Assistants.

“Ms. Davidov is in room 207 on the memory care floor,” she whispered to the Assistant. “She’s only been at the Village for four years. How could she have written this letter years ago with that level of current detail? Especially with her dementia?”

My heart was pounding with excitement. Mrs. Doyle turned to the maintenance Crew and asked if this was a cruel joke played on me and if someone broke into the capsule. The maintenance Chief ensured that the monument had not been moved since its installation in 1971. I was eager to hear more. The Aide pushed me closer to Mrs. Doyle who looked concerned about the letter but decided to continue reading.

“We met from me slipping into the past with my mind. At our present time, I could not talk to you and tell you how I feel about you. I’m in love with you when you first appeared on our floor. So, I had to slip back in time to 1971, manifest myself in physical form, and meet you at the time capsule before it went under the obelisk.

I know you walked alone here for many years, but I want you to know that during those dark lonely nights, someone loved you. I love you and want to be with you. And there is a way that we can! Since you now have dementia, we can travel back and forward through time together. You see dementia patients can live their lives in other moments of time. I want us to do that too. Tonight, when you get back to our floor, we will meet here at this location like we did back in 1971. Will you come my love? If so, all you need to say is Dasvidaniya.”

Love,

Kat

Mrs. Doyle looked ill after reading the letter. “This doesn’t seem possible?”

Kat used her dementia and traveled back in time to deliver the letter so we could, years later, be together. Mrs. Doyle, despite her skepticism, ordered an Aide to rush me upstairs to the Dementia wing to see Kat. Kat was sitting in her wheelchair next to her room. Kat looked at me with the remnants of her young face. It was her! I saw her blue eyes. How did I miss seeing those caring eyes that shined on my dark life in 1971? The Aide parked my wheelchair next to Kat.

I held Kat’s hand and muttered the word Dasvidaniya in her ear. My mind spun like the roulette wheel. Moments in my life shuffled in my mind at a high rate of speed. In my mind I saw the roulette ball chasing Kat’s ball. Kat’s ball was a few slots ahead. A few seconds later I slipped into a deeper state as my ball landed on a slot. It was on that numbered slot where I transformed into a younger version of myself, pre-Vietnam, and time traveled.

I hurried onto the Sunrise Village grounds. I could tell by the feel and smell of the area that it was 1971. I saw Kat at the obelisk looking just like she did when we met fifty years earlier. Kat ran to me and we embraced. I felt Kat’s compassionate warmth again. When we kissed, I realized it was my first time! In that validated moment, I was no longer old, bitter, or afraid. I was no longer a freak. Kat and I continued to kiss as we cried.

“I’m so glad you found me.” I said.

“I’m so glad you let me put the letter in the vault!” Kat replied.

I laughed and asked, “where are you taking me?”

“Everywhere! We have a lot of time to make up.”

Kat and I traveled the world through different points in time. We met people of all kinds throughout our days. I never thought I would find love. It was a love that lasted over fifty years. For many years I was angry about Vietnam. Now I was grateful for the horrific incident since it brought me to Kat!

THE END