(Did you see my villa, the Villa Villekulla? Do you want to know why it's called that?)
- „Här kommer Pippi Långstrump“ Astrid Lindgren
My mobile phone rang yesterday and I was surprise to find out that Mr Tuniak was calling. „Are you good at taking pictures?“, he asked me.
„Good enough“, I answered. I had taken a course about photography at my university as part of my studies, but that had been several years ago.
„That's great“, Mr Tuniak said, after I had told him that. „And don't bother about a camera, I'll take care of that.“
That was all he said. But as I went to his office today, I suspected that we were going on a little journey again. And I was right. Mr Tuniak and his driver were already waiting for me outside the building and in front of their car. As we drove out to the cabin, I noticed a small brown suitcase in the limousine and after asking Mr Tuniak about it, he confirmed that the camera was in there.
„Where are we going?“, I asked.
„To the place where I moved after I had left Leviathan“, Mr Tuniak explained. „It wasn't easy to find. At first, we weren't even sure in which country we wanted to go. We“ - meaning Alice, Sarina, Mowgli and himself - „had all different expectations and wishes. We had already settled on the United States, when Philip told us about the Villa Atterton in England. The villa was, sorry, is a bit outside of London and it stands on quite a big property. Even a forest is part of it. The perfect place for us, if you think about it. And thanks to some help from Sarina's parents we got legal papers and were able to purchase it and live there.“
„Papers?“, I asked. „Why didn't you have any?“
„Why should we?“, Mr Tuniak asked. „Sarina had hers, of course, but the rest of us had basically been living our whole lives on Leviathan which belongs to no country. So we didn't have any citizenship.“
„But then you became British citizens?“
„No, we got Indian citizenship“, Mr Tuniak corrected. „We claimed that we were Indians who wanted to live in the UK. A lot of people came from India during that time, so we didn't attract any attention. Philip bought the villa and then gave it to some trust or other... I never bothered to understand the legal proceedings behind it, but nowadays the villa belongs to the Leviathan school and a lot of the children, once they leave the island, spend their first few months there.“
The time machine arrived at its destination and we got out. The way it had landed meant that it was now actually between me and the villa and effectively hid it from my view. So the first thing I saw was the wall that surrounded the property and the big entrance gate made from a green metal. On top of it, where one could normally read the name of the family who owned the place, was written: “Here there be Munsters”.
“We did that”, Mr Tuniak said with a smile. “We were fans of the series and... Do you know The Munsters? A TV series in the 60ies? No? Well, we watched it a lot on Leviathan.”
We went around the time machine and I could finally see the villa. It was a huge building. There were dozens of windows, towers and roofs. There were more corners and oriels than I would have thought possible. There was a main entrance, but I could see at least two other doors, as well as a patio and two balconies.
“It was a lot smaller originally, but about a hundred years ago, Sir Atterton extended the building on all sides”, Mr Tuniak explained. As he pointed it out, I could see which parts of the villa were original and which parts were added later. The connections were nearly seamless, but not quite.
We went to the main entrance and rang. The door opened and I was taken aback. Mr Tuniak was standing right in front of us. About twenty or thirty years younger than the man beside me, but still definitely Mr Tuniak. It was as if I was seeing two identical twins that had aged at different speeds.
“Hello”, the younger Mr Tuniak said and shook hands with the older one. “Come in.” He didn't ask who I was, although I could see in his face that he hadn't expected anyone else. “Quite a few are still missing, but if you come into the main parlour, there are snacks and drinks there, everyone else is also there...”
We entered the parlour and I saw...
Strictly speaking, only four people were in the room. Miriam, Helen (Mr Tuniak introduced them to me, but again didn't mention my name or why I was here), Mr Tuniak and myself. But I was the only one who was only there once. Everyone else seemed to have several duplicates, the only difference being their ages.
“It's our little family get together”, Mr Tuniak said. “It's the only one we'll ever have.” But since they arrived from different points in their life, it must seem to everyone that there were actually several meetings.
The atmosphere was great and fun. As with every party, small groups of people got together, talked for a while and then members would change groups and talk with other people. They only talked about personal stuff, if the topic was introduced by the oldest member of a group. “That's to make sure no one gets to know anything about his or her personal future”, Mr Tuniak explained. “The older people are the only ones who know who knows what at the moment.”
But aside from personal stuff, every topic was fair game. I'm pretty sure I heard about things that aren't supposed to happen for another hundred years from my point of view.
I could have stayed hours in that room, standing in the corner and just watching these people talk and interact. What had stayed the same, what had changed...
Philip arrived at the building site with a horse drawn cab. He payed the driver and went across the garden. A part of the new building was already finished. No, Philip corrected himself, that was actually the old part, the one Sir Atterton had decided to leave standing.
He found the owner of the villa deep in discussion with two of his architects. They were looking at several plans and the architects were visibly trying to anticipate the wishes of Sir Atterton, but failing miserably at it. Only he knew what he really wanted. With a red pencil in his hand, he corrected their plans and added things without taking care of such basic things like structural integrity. That would be the thankless job of the architects.
“And I want a staircase here, that leads to this balcony”, Sir Atterton said, while he was drawing. “And one should only be able to open this door from the inside. Oh, and this door here has to go.”
“But that's the only way to get to this balcony”, one of the architects protested in vain.
Philip enjoyed the discussion and didn't interrupt it. He waited until the architects had gone, not envying them their difficult job.
“Philip!”, Sir Atterton greeted him. “I'm so glad you could come. What do you think of my house?”
“Well, I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like it in my whole life”, Philip answered. “But you never told me why you are building it the way you do.”
“No?” Sir Atterton was surprised. As he continued, he started to fill his pipe. “Have you heard about the Winchester-House in America?”
Philip shook his head.
“It is built to keep ghost out”, Sir Atterton said and lit his pipe. “But that is exactly the wrong way to go about things. We have to attract ghosts, not repel them. Imagine, what we could do if we can establish constant communication with the world of ghosts. Lost knowledge would be ours again!”
“Have you talked about it with Sir Arthur?”, Philip asked.
“Yes, and he is a big supporter of my idea”, Sir Atterton said. “I have also some thoughts about the interior of the house. The furniture and so. I want every room to represent a different culture. Cultures from different countries and times. Ghosts from all over the world should feel welcome here.”
“Is that why you invited me here?”, Philip asked.
“Precisely. You have been travelling a lot, I've heard, and I was hoping that you could help me recreating different cultures properly. This room here, for instance, is going to have an African theme. What kind of masks should I put on the walls?”
I had gone to a room right next to the main parlour. There were masks on the walls – I think they came from somewhere in south-east Asia – and white paintings in between them.
Mr Tuniak entered the room. I could tell from his clothes that it was the Mr Tuniak from my time period. None of the others had spoken with me.
“How are you?”, he asked.
“All right now, I think”, I said. “It's a bit overwhelming... a bit like the time when you took me back to see the dinosaurs.”
Mr Tuniak nodded sympathetically.
“The white paintings here, why are they here?”, I asked.
“A student from Leviathan did them a few years ago”, Mr Tuniak said. “Every student who comes to live in this house, changes something. Just a little thing, just a reminder that she or he has been here. It's not mandatory, but it's become a sort of tradition.”
“And he put up white paintings?”
“They are not white”, Mr Tuniak corrected me. “They were painted in reddish green and bluish yellow. They are called impossible colours, because our eyes can't see them. They are right there in the visible spectrum of light, but because of the way our colour reception works, we can only see them under certain conditions.”
“What did you change here?”
“That's why we are here today. Let's go into the garden.”
We went outside, into the garden behind the villa. All the Miriams, Helens and Mr Tuniaks had already gathered there. They had put the camera on a tripod and were now standing together for a group shot. The youngest ones were sitting on the grass in front, the oldest ones were right behind them on chairs. Everyone else was standing.
I was there to take the picture. Actually, I took several: first the whole group and then various members came to me to get photos with only two or three of the others.
Then one of the Mr Tuniaks – I estimated him to be about forty years old – took the film, went to his time machine (all the time machines were lined up in a row in the garden) and disappeared for one minute. When he returned, he had all the photos developed. One of them, it was a shot of the whole group and it was the biggest photo, had even been framed. This he gave to a Mr Tuniak who was around twenty years old.
“Put that up, once you've settled in here”, he said. And thus Mr Tuniak would also leave something behind.
NEXT WEEK:
Nous arrivons tout nouveaux aux divers âges de la vie, et nous y manquons souvent d'expérience malgré le nombre des années.
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