LOST GENIUS
CHAPTER 1
With her knees to her chest, Ariana was staring unfocused, having just exhausted her last tears. She regretted she had transferred her mood to her friend. Yet she was still unable to overcome it, and find the strength to continue.
She was stuck in the world of self-destructive thoughts, but the fast rhythm of Mark’s words aroused her from the reverie after a long period of silence. “A man has an average of sixty thousand thoughts per day, and eighty-five percent of them are negative.”
“Oh Mark, and they said you were stupid.”
The seventeen-year-old young man walked around in circles, swinging his body from the middle up to the front and back, muttering continually, “I’m not stupid! I’m not stupid!” His voice rather screamed.
Ariana rose to her feet and tried to embrace him. Back when they were little, she could have held him. When he got upset for some reason, she was the only one who could calm him down. She felt very small right now, next to the well-built body of the growing young man. On his temples, small drops of perspiration flickered in the dark light of the neon on the high ceiling of the room. It was not enough to compete with the darkness of the evening, but it just gave the impression that the day was a little longer. The window was open and the fresh summer breeze got in, and cooled the inflamed spirits, lowering their body temperature and sharpening their senses.
“Hey, you’re not stupid, ok? You’re a genius. As you just said, people have a lot of bad thoughts about others. For instance, those who said such things about you.”
“My IQ is a hundred sixty-two. I’m a genius. I’m not stupid.”, Mark repeated.
“We have already established that. You are the smartest person I know. Look, I was crying earlier, and now I don’t know how I got to comfort you.”
“I am wise, yes. I told you, you were crying for nothing. It’s not worth it.”
The teenage girl’s face brightened. She also knew that it was not worth crying for a boy.
“Do you want to go to the trains?” Mark suddenly asked.
“We’re not kids anymore. Or, you know, you’re right; I need some fresh air, and I think you need some, too. Just wait a minute.”
The young woman entered the bathroom, took a quick shower, then wiped herself with a clean towel, and sank her nose into it, bursting into tears. She felt disappointed in the guy she had trusted, but especially disappointed in her, in what she had become.
Half a year ago, she had been a normal girl with boring hobbies, with few friends, including Mark, the one with whom she spent most of her time. She never cared about what others thought of her, but she suffered to hear people making fun of her friend. He was special and the rest just couldn’t see that. He was the only one in the world who didn’t judge her or anyone else, but she hadn’t been a good friend. Since Owen entered her life, she had abandoned her friend, who was now more confined to himself than ever. And it was not the only thing she had done. She had simply become another person. Although Ariana had never cared about physical appearance, she was now using makeup every day, trying to seem different than she was. Try to act more like everyone else, her dad used to say.
The towel was now all dirty with mascara. This brought her back to reality: It was just a mask she had displayed. She needed neither nail extensions, nor make-up. She will be herself again, the simple girl with high aspirations, the girl who wants to become an artist.
Artist, OMG! Stop with this nonsense! For once in your life act normal! Owen told her, reproaching her the time she spent with art. This is what bothered her most: she hadn't painted in five months. Tears trickled down her dark face to her throat.
“The train passes at 7:24. We’ll miss it. Are we going any time soon? You’ve been in the bathroom for eleven minutes and fifty-four seconds,” Mark said knocking impatiently on the door.
“I’m coming. Just wait! We won’t miss anything.
Outside the door, Mark was stirring up and down in a rhythmic pattern that only he understood. He could feel math in his stereotypes. Sometimes he thought it was telling him a song he must listen to, but right now he couldn’t hear the notes of the universe. He had seen Ariana suffer, and that made him sad.
Ariana didn’t deserve to cry for a guy who had called Mark the autistic boy. Owen had told him this several times, but Mark knew perfectly well he was a genius. He knew the value of Ï€ up to the first hundred thousand decimals, from head to tail and from tail to head. He had been accepted at the University since he was twelve, and at thirteen he received his doctor’s diploma in quantum physics.
It wasn’t always easy for him, with others looking at him as if he were a strange creature; but it didn't bother Mark. He liked loneliness and hated the crowds and noise. The only two things he loved in the world were science and Ariana. For her, he had stayed in that provincial town, where the most stimulating thing for his brain was to see Ariana’s eyes.
“I’m almost ready. Hey, move! Unless you want me to hit you with the door when I get out!”
Wearing a pair of jeans and her old T-shirt which she painted with the peace sign, Ariana emerged from the bathroom with her face clean. The only signs of her crying were her red swollen eyes. Even so, she exuded the same natural beauty. She wore no makeup and this reminded her of the person she knew she used to be.
She was searching through the closet for her lucky pair of tennis shoes, which were, of course, old and shrieked, but still alright for her. She had worn them on the day the famous painter, Jean Gavron, had noticed her work from the hundreds of paintings that had been displayed. It had been a unique moment. He simply said, “You are very talented!”
The whole school’s eyes had turned toward her. It was more than she could have imagined. She, Ariana, was talented! So many memories she had with her old shoes! How could she have been so… she didn’t know why she had been so stupid, she thought, that she hurt her feet wearing high-heels for Owen.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“I notice you’re wearing your old T-shirt and lucky tennis shoes. You haven’t worn them since April 12, the day you had an English test.”
So much time? She hadn’t even realized. The thing that made her comprehend how bad things were was that Mark noticed her change, too. He didn’t usually observe someone’s physical appearance or the clothes people wore. This made her meditate more on all the mistakes she had made lately.
“It’s a nice T -shirt, isn’t it? It’s a bit shabby, but it’s ok. I feel good in it, it represents me.”
“Are you done with talking? We’ll miss the train. I told you it was at 7:24 p.m. Do you want us to miss it?”
“Oh, shut up, Mark! You said I talk too much.”
Ariana never got angry when Mark said crazy things. She knew he didn’t do this on purpose or because he had something against her. They have known each other for far too long for her to get upset.
They were friends - if one could say so - from kindergarten. He has always been special. He spoke for the first time when he was four. They were neighbors, and their moms were friends so they had to spend a lot of time together - next to each other. Sad, but true. For a while, they just stood by, without even playing. She wanted to, but he was lost somewhere in his imaginary world. Gradually, however, he began to be aware of her presence, and to communicate.
“You can talk? I thought you couldn’t. Yes, it’s a car. It’s yours. Take it. Car! Repeat after me!”
“Car, car, car.”
“Well done, Mark! I knew you could do it! You’re speaking. Hey, don’t break it into pieces! I brought you a present to play with it! What are you doing to it? I’ll call Mummy if you don’t stop! Can’t you hear me? Stop, I said!”
“Car, car.”
“Why do you want to destroy it? You’ve broken it! It’s no longer good. I don’t want to play with you anymore. Where are you going? You brought one of your cars! Do you want to give it to me in return? You made a new car from combining the two? Well done! You’re very smart.”
“Car.”
“Will you give it to me so we can both play with it? Thanks! We’ll play however you like.”
Mark’s father used to take both of them to the train depo. They used to sit there for hours, staring at the trains. Mark was simply fascinated by locomotives. He had even memorized their timetable and got upset if he ever deviated from his routine.
So Ariana took a bottle of water and put it into her little backpack. It was here that she normally held her emergency set. Ever since she had started going out alone - without her parents - her father had insisted on her taking with her water, some fruit, and paralyzing spray. That it was exaggerated, Ariana knew it too well, but that was how her dad was, and if she ever wanted to go out, she had to follow the rules.
Ariana and Mark stepped out through the door of her bedroom, down the stairs into the living room, where her mother, Astrid, was arranging in boxes and bags old things that were no longer useful. Some would end in the basement, and others in the garbage. The woman had long hair, carelessly tied in tail at the top of the head. She was wearing a green, chlorine-stained T-shirt and black pants, discolored from too much wear. She was trying to speed up her work to finish until her husband arrived. She would have liked to be more dressed up, to have the time or the mood to brush her hair more often, to do something for herself. She was only the multifunctional housekeeper. She took care of the children, of their education, she did the cooking, and also her job, when she found some free time.
Astrid wasn’t an organized person, but she was doing her best to overcome herself. She was already used to her husband's constant criticism. Too many years had passed, so now she was immune to everything.
“Don’t throw my stuffed toys! I’m keeping them” said Ariana.
“Hi, Ari! I'm not throwing them away, I'm just organizing them. The house is a mess! You should help me! You saw how tidy Mark is!”
“I can’t right now. I’m going with him to the trains. Don’t wait for me at dinner! Oh, and Mark isn’t tidy, he’s obsessed with cleaning. I could never be like that,” the girl said.
“I like putting things organized. I like the order, it’s calming. Order is the only thing that governs the universe”, Mark intervenes.
“Thank you for the ilumination, Einstein! Now she’s going to make me clean up. Let’s go! I’m out, Mum. Bye!”
“Good bye, Mrs. Fox! We're going to the depot. We want to see the 7: 24 p.m. train pass.”
“Bye, kids! Be careful! Don’t be too late, though! You know how your father is. He’ll be worried if he sees you are missing at dinner. Please try!”
“Okay, Mum. Calm down! I’ll negotiate with him. He saw that all my friends stay out late, that I was the only one that had to be home by eight o’clock. Don’t worry! I’ll manage him. We’re out. Bye!”
They left the Fox family's house behind, as it got smaller and smaller. It wasn’t a big house anyway. Ariana’s father had bought by a mortgage, and he had two jobs to support this. His wife was working part-time, because, otherwise, she couldn't have taken care of the family’s youngest, Johnny. Ariana also helped her, but only occasionally, being a teenager and often having homework to do. The truth was that in the last six months, she had been absent from home. She shook her sad thoughts and tried to keep up with Mark. The boy looked as though he was competing for the marathon. He was walking very fast, although he wasn’t a fan of physical activities. She could see his profile way ahead of her.
He was tall, and kept his neck a bit bent. Even so, he looked good from the distance. Ariana imagined he didn’t have autism. He would have been a catch because he had strong features that inspired masculinity. His hair was curled interestingly. She knew that he carefully combed it, but, even so, it was always ruffled. That’s what girls like in a guy. His green eyes were not at all negligible. Even if he never looked directly at her, she could still notice their color.
“Are coming?” he suddenly said.
“Yes. I’m right behind you. Do you think you can get rid of me that easily?”
“I don’t want to get rid of you. I didn’t say I wanted to get rid of you. I want to stay with you. Let’s go and see the new engine. The news said: The Stone Clamber, the luxury train connecting Seattle to Vancouver, makes a circuit through The States of America. Our city, Dowertown, is proud to be a point on his path, though it is not stationary.” he quoted the paper.
“I got it. A nice train is passing by, and you don’t want to miss it. I’m walking as fast as I can.
The depo wasn’t very far from the Fox family’s house, so they got on time. Ariana stood with her head on Mark’s shoulder, thinking of different other stuff. She didn’t enjoy trains in a long time. To her, this was only a way of letting go of problems, for here she felt free. She had always thought that she could get on the first train and go wherever it took her. She wouldn’t even need a ticket, but she would just have jumped with Mark on the first cargo wagon.
Even now she could smile at the thought that she hadn’t cut Mark out of the equation. And he was there in her imagination. But he was so caught up with this train business that he seemed almost as if he didn’t realize that his friend was standing next to him. It was only him and his locomotives. He had begun to give her technical details of the engine and its history, as if Ariana were interested in it. What she understood was that it was a luxury train, but that didn’t make an impression on her.
It was already dark and she pointed to the gray clouds, then touched the stars, and the moon, and painted them with her finger. She felt like a child again, imagining she could get to the stars; she was almost happy.
“The Universe is spectacular, isn’t it?” There are billions of stars and we are just insignificant ants. The time we spend in our lives allows us to explore only a tiny part of this mystery,” the boy had an impressive verbal flow. Whenever he began a phrase, he sputtered, and the listener had difficulty in receiving his message.
Ariana, however, managed to understand him. She wasn’t good at mathematics or science. She preferred subjects that allowed her to be creative. Sometimes she felt complexed in his presence because there were infinitely many things she couldn’t understand.
“I say there’s enough time. What could we do with more? And also, it seems to me that time is running too slow. I can't wait for it to pass and go to college!” Ariana said.
“You didn’t tell me you want us to go to college,” Mark replied.
“We? All right, we should go. I want to get out of here, and study art. And if you come in the package to Seattle, then okay. By the way? Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you go to NASA or who knows where? It’s been four years since you’ve finished your studies,” she said.
“It’s a secret. A secret.”
“Since when do you keep secrets from me? We are either friends or nothing,” Ariana insisted.
“We Are. I am working on my research on the origin of the Universe and how you can generate energy from nothing. That is not from anything…”
Ariana interrupted him, and said “I understand, science stuff. Cool!”
“Thank you! I forgot that not everyone is good at science,” Mark laughed, thinking he had made a good joke. In response, Ariana gave him a suggestive elbow in his stomach, not intending to hurt him.
“Hey Einstein, can you paint? I guess you can’t. Your dog attempt of a drawing looks like a monkey, so save me the stupid jokes, all right?”
Mark laughed once more, like a Cheshire cat, how Ari liked to say, holding a hand to his mouth. His friend ignored him because he had something special and one couldn't really be upset with him. He was direct and honest, and that was what Ariana appreciated in a person.
“Do you want to count the stars with me?” she asked.
“Don’t you know that what we see now is only a tiny part of what is in reality? Many of the stars whose light we receive have long gone out. Light travels at a speed…,” Mark replied.
“Do you want us to count them?”
“All right. For you, I am disregarding scientific reality and pretending I am Fred Flintstone.”
“You’re so funny, Mr. Einstein!”
“I like to believe that!”
“Don’t delude yourself anymore, you have anything but humor.”
With her head still resting against his shoulder, the teenager was still writing with an imaginary pencil on the skydome.
“One, two, three… one hundred and sixty-one…,” she said.
“You counted that one before.”
“We’re not in math class. Now I’ve lost track because of you,” Ariana pretended to be upset.
“The information wasn’t correct anyway, and it’s almost 7: 24.”
Ariana closed her eyes and listened to the approaching train sound. It was so familiar and pleasant. The noise didn’t bother her. It reminded her of her childhood, of freedom. God, how she wanted to be free!
All of a sudden she said “Do you want to go for a train ride?”
“Why would we do that?” asked Mark.
“For fun,” she answered.
“What? You mean you wouldn’t like to travel by train? Let’s go to the next station and get back on another train. That would be fun.”
If she calculated the implications, or if it was a momentary impulse, she didn’t know for sure. Certainly, she had always dreamed of doing that and this evening she felt brave - too brave, perhaps. She had already imagined what her father would do to her and how he would insist on how irresponsible she was. It had always been the same. He was unhappy with her bohemian personality. He told her she wasn’t doing enough. He always found reasons to criticize, starting with her walk to her eating manners. That was how her father treated everyone in her family. She was sure he would even spank her. But she couldn’t control this crazy impulse to do something out of ordinary.
“If we jump on the 9:45 train, and get off at the first station, then we would take another one in the opposite direction, and we could get home at 10:30 - if there aren’t any unexpected delays,” Mark said.
“I knew you were a genius. Let’s go then! Let’s wait for the train. Hey, come on! You didn’t think we would stay here, where everybody can see us. Don’t you watch movies?”
“Actually, I don't, ” the boy answered.
“We have to be incognito.”
As the big machine was slowing down the tracks, they could hear it from the distance. They got off the platform on which they were sitting, and passed through the stationary carriages. Ariana felt like a naughty little girl. Who was she taking revenge on? Owen, who had been a piece of shit, or her father, who had always been judging her?
I’m not trying to take revenge on anyone. I just want to be free!
Mark kept looking at the mechanical clock on his arm. He watched the seconds pass by and looked around for the movement of the line. He was nervous. It wasn’t something that he would have normally done. He stuck to his schedule, he had his routines, and rules were very important to him; they were part of his educational process. Because at first his condition had been seen as a disease that needed to be treated, his parents created a strict program that he had to follow. Of course, therapy was part of his recovery. But gradually, what first was a handicap had become an opportunity for him. Autism was the spring that had helped him take better account of the things around him than ordinary people.
Mark felt blessed and, at the same time, with a great responsibility on his shoulders.
“Why are you looking at your watch? We’re on schedule.”
“When I look at the watch I see time.”
“Yes, I see that, too. That’s what the clocks do, they show time.”
“You don’t understand. Time is just an illusion. We are now measuring it, referring to the train timetable. You say you’re seventeen, but if you compare this to the existence of the Universe, your age is nothing. Time is relative. Time is relative,” Mark explained.
“That’s exactly how I feel. Seventeen years have passed for nothing. I haven’t learned anything, I haven’t done anything interesting. Then what’s the purpose of living?” she asked.
It wasn’t the first time such thoughts were in her mind. She had always had the feeling that she had wasted a lot of time, that she had something grandiose to fulfill, but that she was passing by it, without even realizing it.
“Such a fascinating subject for me! I believe that the existence of man is not a coincidental one. Between science and mysticism, religion, as you would call it, an unexplainable force determined Earth’s existence and life on it. I have sixty-three years at best to deepen my research. Sixty-three years. Sixty-three years.” Mark continued.
“Is that your research?”
“Among other things. I can’t tell you anything else. It’s secret. It’s a secret.”
“Secret or not, you sometimes astonish me. You say such profound things. I'm not as smart as you, I’m not good at physics, but sometimes I understand what you say. That’s good enough, isn’t it? I speak ‘Sciencean’.”
“What?” Mark asked.
“Yeah, your language,” Ariana said.
Mark put his hand over his mouth and began to laugh again, as if he knew a good joke.
“Ha, ha! Do you find it’s funny?” said the girl.
“It is, indeed. You use words that are not in the vocabulary of this language. Did you know ‘sciencean’ isn’t a real word?”
“I know, you genius. It was a joke!”
The boy laughed again. Ariana looked at him with a slightly amused face, and a little grin appeared at the corner of her mouth.
“It’s not that funny,” she said.
"Sciencean, Haha!”
The high-pitched sound of the wheels grinding on the iron rails interrupted their strange conversation. Though they had seen trains before, it was as if they really perceived one for the first time. They observed every detail of the machine. It wasn’t a new model and it wasn’t a luxury one either. They stepped onto the poorly paved platform. The noise made by the train masked any kind of movement they made. They checked, looking through the glass, whether a controller was around and climbed on the last wagon, which was now unpopulated.
As though nothing had happened, they sat down on the back seat, overlooking the direction of their travel.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this. I can’t believe it. We didn’t even buy a ticket,” Mark said.
“Me neither. Don’t worry! We only travel to the next station and return, did you forgot?”
“No, but we didn’t buy a ticket.”
“That may be the last of our problems. If Dad finds out…” Ariana said.
If her father found out about what she did, she would be in big trouble. Although her father was apparently calm, in fact, he was a very nervous man. He didn’t admit such misconduct. It wasn’t the kind of thing Ariana would usually have done. She wasn’t a problematic or disobedient child. When she was little, if her dad had told her “Eat it all!” and looked at her with a serious face, she would have eaten ten more bowls, though she was full. She was afraid of him and of the way he would react. He probably would punish her for a year and she would only stay inside till college, except for going to school, of course. And yet…
“We are committing an illegal act. I didn’t buy a ticket.” Mark continued insisting.
“Relax, will you! Just imagine that this is our train! Look out of the window, then close your eyes and listen to the noise! Isn’t it cool?”
“It’s an American production model…”
“Listen to the train!” Ariana ordered him in a playful way.
It worked. Mark looked out the window somewhere in the air. He had overcome the panic and was living the moment. He was one with the train, he could feel it. He closed his eyes and listened.
“I’m going to buy a train,” the boy suddenly spoke.
“What did you say?”
“I’m going to buy a train.”
“With what money? Do you have any idea how much one costs?”
“With the money I'll make from my research. I'll get a train station, too.”
“Then it will be like Monopoly. I don’t want to ruin your dream, but I don’t think you’ll ever afford it. We still have ten years to pay our mortgage on the house. I think a train costs a few million dollars. And a train station, who knows? You have to be like Donald Trump.
“Not Donald Trump, like Bill Gates. I’m like Bill Gates.”
“Okay, you should get a train and a station. Who am I to forbid you? Until you do, let’s enjoy the moment. What do you say?”
The teenagers closed their eyes and listened to the noises the train made. It was reassuring for them. Ariana held out a hand over the boy's hand. Mark winced slightly, opened his eyes briefly, and looked at the girl’s hand, unable to believe it, then closed them again. They just stood like that, side by side, listening, eyes closed.
Suddenly, the wagon’s door opened. A tall, athletic-looking guy wearing a black shirt, matching pants, and sports shoes of the same color made his way through the doorway. Ariana opened her eyes. She could see him better and better as he approached. He wasn’t a controller, but there was something about him that made her feel insecure. Maybe the words of her parents when she was little made her cautious about foreign people or maybe just instinct. He was about thirty years old and had a slightly frightening face, though with pleasant masculine features. Now he was only three chairs away and getting closer.
Mark was also attentive to the newcomer.
The girl rummaged quickly, but discreetly, in her backpack, where she knew she always carried the paralyzing spray her father had insisted on taking with her. She didn’t even know why she was doing that. She was holding it now, ready in case needed.
The train slowed down slightly. Apparently, they were approaching the station and they intended to get off there.
The man was now in front of them, staring at Mark, who didn’t understand what the stranger had to do with him. No matter how great a genius he was in the field of physics, the boy had great gaps in terms of interpersonal relationships or understanding the intentions of others. With a fearful look, he addressed the stranger:
“I don’t have a ticket. I don’t have a ticket.”
“Then you come with me. Get up. Come on, kid!”
In a split second, Ariana notices that the man was carrying a gun in his left hand and tried to point it at the boy. She instinctively pressed the spray button in the eyes of the stranger. The man took his hand to his eyes. Still holding the gun, he wanted to aim at the teenagers.
The girl hit him hard with her backpack, managing to make him drop the gun on the floor. In one move, she took it.
“Come on, Mark! Run!” she said, pulling the boy after her.
They ran to the exit door of the wagon and jumped down the stairs. The last thing Ariana had seen before the train took off again was the image of the man, stumbling between the seats, still keeping his hands to his eyes.
The two friends hid among the carriages, at an angle where they had good visibility around them, but could not be easily seen. Ariana’s heart was galloping. She looked at the pistol in her hand and imagined that the man had gotten off the train and was still following them.
“I will never travel without a ticket,” Mark said.
“What?”
