A hand seemingly from nowhere pulled him back forcefully. Sebastian's car whizzed past, and for a moment, he felt as if he were being drawn into another world.
"Oh... thank goodness I stopped you."
"Thank you," a faint voice said, one that seemed almost unrecognizable.
"Engineer Vasile, I'm glad to meet you..."
"Yes. Give me a moment to recover..."
The gathered crowd was already commenting. Did that man in the black overcoat manage to pull the boy back? Otherwise, that madman with the car would have run him over. Thank goodness he stopped him! Something needs to be done about these drivers; they're killing innocent people!
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. Thanks for saving me. I invite you for coffee at my place. I live nearby, just a few houses from here. Please accompany me."
And in a natural way, the two individuals moved away. He, the well-built man, and the slender young man with slightly hesitant steps.
***
"First of all, I wanted to thank you for saving me at that moment. If you hadn't pulled me, maybe I wouldn't be here now."
"Forget it. It was more of a reflex gesture. Anyone would have done the same."
"These days, you can't trust anything. How can I thank you?"
"You know, when I left home, I was looking for a book, heading towards a bookstore, and if I didn't find it there, towards an antique shop... The situation with you intervened, and everything remained suspended."
"What book?"
"Mircea Eliade, Nights at Serampore. A colleague told me that somewhere on Radu Cristian Street, I could find it at an antique dealer..."
"I can lend it to you! I gave it to an acquaintance, but today I can ask for it back, and if you come tomorrow, I can give it to you."
"It can't be... I bother you too much."
"It's no trouble. It's the least I can do for you."
"Alright. Then, it's settled."
"Thank you again, and I'll be expecting you."
"I'll come around 9."
"That's very good! Oh, do you happen to have a photo?"
"A photo?"
"Yes. A picture of yourself. You know, I keep small mementos from those who help me in life."
"I think I have a small photo, like an ID picture, in my wallet. Let me find it. Yes, here it is!"
"Thank you very much."
"Have a good day."
"I'm waiting for you!"
***
The doorbell rang for an extended period. From inside, a slight noise could be heard. The engineer shuffled a bit in front of the door. What the heck? He told me to come today. Suppose he's not home now. Ultimately, the door opened. In the doorway stood an elderly man leaning on a cane, slightly bent backward. Behind large glasses, two black eyes observed him. Then, he spoke.
"How can I help you?"
"Good day. Excuse me. I came for the book."
"What book, sir? I don't remember."
"Ah... yesterday, I saved a young man from an accident. I came here, had a coffee, and when I left, he promised to lend me a boo..."
"I remember now, Mr. Engineer. You're a bit late..."
"Late? But yesterday, we agreed I would come today."
"Late, late..."
"Excuse me?"
"I am not the one I used to be."
After saying this, the old man slowly closed the door.
"What the heck?"
The engineer stepped back a bit. He looked carefully at the door, at the street... everything seemed the same as yesterday. Wait... maybe the house was better maintained... anyway, that's it, thought Engineer Vasile... He shook his head and headed to the antique shop on Radu Cristian Street. It would be his only hope of finding this volume. The bookstore he visited yesterday crushed his hopes of buying it new.
***
"Mr. Engineer Vasile!" a voice was heard on the street.
He turned slightly to where he heard the voice. A boy on a bicycle was racing towards him.
"Mr. Engineer... wait a moment for me to catch my breath... Grandpa sent me to give you a package. He said that in his youth, you saved his life!"
"I don't remember..."
"Well, that's between him and you; I'm not interested. Anyway, I'm glad I met you. I've been looking for you around here all day. Thanks to my grandpa's photo. Look, this is the package."
He left a small package, wrapped in thick wrapping paper, like the kind used for packaging goods. Before the engineer could come to his senses, the boy disappeared.
Perfect. Only peculiarities, he thought to himself. His hands, however, were working, and soon the package was open. Inside, a book – Mircea Eliade, Nights at Serampore. With a slight tremor, he opened the volume and found his picture from yesterday, yellowed with the patina of time. On the back was written - thank you! - Sebastian. The date on the book's title page caught his eye – 1940.
The sun caressed his scalp. In the distance, the siren of an ambulance faded away.