The final station

"So that's it. The final station," the man thought. 

 

It was winter. From the window, he could see a strip of forest. Pines, grayish green underneath a gray sky. Even the snow seemed to gave a gray tint to it. 

 

The man turned around and went to his bed. It was silent in the ward. Some slept, some read, some just lay silently. He eased himself onto his bed. He didn't feel like thinking right now. The nurse would be here soon, bringing the medication. The pills would make his head groggy and that would be just fine with him.

The man closed his eyes and dozed off. When he awoke, he was surprised to see that the lights were off already. "Now this is strange", he thought "I didn't realise I had slept so long."

He turned his head to look out of the window and suddenly, was wide awake. Somebody was standing beside his bed.

A full moon had risen and its bright bluish light, reflecting back from the snow outside the window flooded into the hospital ward. He could see a dark silhouette outlined against the window. 

A magnificent head, with straight whiskers. Small neat ears. A thick neck and an enormous body. It was a tiger.

The man froze, not daring to breathe. The beast drew closer. The tiger's head was almost touching his face now. The animal was breathing heavily. Not thinking of anything else to do, the man closed his eyes. 

The animal sniffed at his face noisily. And then, the man felt a rough tongue go over his face. He was being licked. All of the sudden, the man didn't have a worry in the world. He didn't dare to open his eyes just yet, afraid that if he did, the vision would be gone, as suddenly as it had appeared. 

And then the tiger began to talk. The man kept his eyes shut tight and let the tiger's purring voice lull him into a strange dreamlike daze. Very soon, pictures and colours started to flow behind his closed eyes. He stepped into a land of wonder and everything that passed from there on was more real than reality itself.

He came to with a jerk. Somebody was shaking him. An acrid smell crept up his nostrils, making him cough. He opened his eyes and saw the nurse's face, hanging over him, all motherly and concerned. "Well, you certainly gave us a fright, mister," scolded the nurse. "The doctor will be here any minute."

"A scare, my ass" thought the man. "What's there to be scared about - I'm half dead anyway." But he wasn't too upset with Matron, not really. Actually, he felt a strange elation. He now had a secret.

After that evening he didn't get up any more. He just didn't have the strength for it. He lay there, quietly, and as soon as he closed his eyes, the tiger would come. And each time, it would have another story for him.

The tiger talked of strange and far-away countries that he had never visited, and of great adventures where he would be the hero. In those stories, the tiger always politely keep to the background. Only on rare occasion, its orange-and-black-striped flank or massive tail could be seen flashing among the lush greenery. The man caught glimpses of the tiger's serious face, looking at him from the disance. It felt as if the tiger was keeping an eye on him and the feeling was pleasant.

A few days later, after the visitors had left, one of the other patients suddenly began to weep uncontrollably. Of course, everybody knew what it was all about. Only nobody knew what to say or how to comfort him. 

Then suddenly the man began to talk. In a thin, reedy voice, almost as if he was only talking to himself, he began telling about the strange dreams he had been having lately. By-and-by, the other man stopped crying and soon everyone was listening to the man's story, collectively holding their breath. 

From that day on, the whole ward could hardly wait for each following story. The man spoke of far-away countries that no one of them had seen and of grand adventures, the hero of which could have easily been any one of them. But even more importantly - he told them about tigers. 

A month went by. Some of the patients were released, new ones were admitted. The nocturnal story-telling continued. Soon, news of this strange past-time had spread all over the hospital, and well before eight o'clock, the ward started to fill up with people. Some sat on the beds, others on the windowsills, and even on the floor. The nurses and doctors pretended to know nothing about it but often, one or two of them would find a reason to step into the ward at that time, and after doing what they came to do, they would stay on, leaning against the wall and pretending not to be there.

That particular night, the man finished around nine, as usual. The crowd got ready to leave for their respective wards or stations. Around ten, a nurse came to put out the lights. Within half an hour, everyone was fast asleep. The sound of even breathing, punctuated by an occasional snore, filled the room.

The full moon cast its bluish glow on the snow, the shadows on the pine trees sharp and inky on the snow. From amongst the shadows of the trees, another shadow emerged. Straining his eyes, the man could see that it was the tiger. The animal covered the distance between the grove and the hospital in the blink of an eye. 

Reaching the window, he turned and rested its side against it. Then he gave it a gentle push. The window fell open and the animal sprang in. His huge paws were silent on the linoleum. The tiger stepped up to the bed and looked at the man with its yellow eyes. 

"Wake up," the tiger said. "Its time." The man got out of the bed. With his bare feet, he tried to feel for his slippers from underneath the bed. He didn't come across them but it didn't matter. "Jump on my back," the tiger said. 

The man grabbed hold of the wiry hair on the back of the tiger and hoisted himself up. He sat up straight and adjusted his position. And so they went. He didn't look back.

Stepping into the ward the next morning, the nurse immediately knew that something was wrong. One of the beds was empty. "Sweet Jesus, this can't be happening," she moaned, spurting out of the room. Where could he be? Passed out in some bathroom, no doubt. And anyway - how on on earth did he manage to get himself out of bed?

Soon the entire hopital was buzzing like a beehive. The building was searched from top to bottom and even the pine grove around it was combed through but the man could not be found. 

Finally, the police had to be called.

Finding nothing else even remotely relevant to ask the patients, the junior constable closed his little black book. His brow was wet with perspiration and his neck had turned bright red from embarrassement, as it often would. After all, he was still very young.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he said, trying to look professional. "Should you rember anything else, please don't hesitate to call me. Here's my card." He closed the door of the hospital ward carefully, and then paused for a moment, straining his ears. He almost expected to hear a roar of laughter from behind the closed door. But everything remained quiet. 

Afterwards, sitting in his car, having one smoke after another, he was feeling a whopper of a headache coming on. He just couldn't figure those people out, even if his life had depended on it. Had he witnessed some kind of a collective hallucination or had his leg been just pulled - like never before? Anyhow, either one of those two options didn't save him from having to type up a report. He simply couldn't imagine what he was going to put in it.

Because how do you tell them that a dying man had just vanished into thin air from his hospital bed? How do you explain that all the witnesses, without an exception, calmly state that their room-mate had been carried off by a tiger at night? 

"I wonder," he thought, "how is all of this going to look on paper ..."

He heaved a deep sigh and started the engine. 

It was going to be a long night.