A surprising Encounter

Now, twenty  years later, I was staying in my lonely flat and reading the books of Hermann Hesse again. Although this was in some way interesting, it didn’t offer any new revelation to me. But this time his point of view became very clear to me, Do not expect too much from life. Be modest, temper your wishes and desires and live an ascetic life.
   That was the first part of his message, as far as I understood it.Then perhaps some day you will find a little bit of peace in your heart! This was the second pard of it! I confess honestly, that was not my hope for the future. A full life of happiness, I searched for nothing less. But was this realistic? Perhaps Hesse was right and my search would be in vain.

    In vain?  I felt a slight tug of fear in my heart. A life without finding happiness? I could hardly stand the thought. "I have to try searching for it!" I said slowly to myself. "Even if I would never find it!"

    After one month, I had almost finished reading Hesse’s complete edition. So one Saturday afternoon I stopped my timeout and went to a pub. I stayed there for a while and played a few games with some chess players. Now I was back to normal life again!

For the next few days nothing special happened. It was winter and the weather was bad. And therefore I decided to take the bus instead of riding my bike.

    While walking to the bus stop from home one day, I stopped to look at a small "witch-house". I had once given it this name when riding along on my bike. It was a severely dilapidated little shack that appeared forlorn and forgotten. It was surrounded by a withered garden in summer but now in winter appeared much the worse because of neglect and the abuse of time.

    Due to my natural curiosity and love of such "unnatural" places, I looked this time at the name-shield on the fence. It read: Mike Bolte. I looked at the name twice in surprise. I knew someone by that name!

    Some years ago I had played tournament chess together with a guy by that name on a university team. But after that, I had lost contact with him. Could he be living here? I was tempted to prove it directly. But then reason gained the upper hand and I decided to wait. If it could possibly be the Mike I knew, I would perhaps meet him by chance. And I smiled a little bit. "Okay! I will give fate a chance and will wait until I meet him!"

    Strange! I do not think that I really believed in such a thing as fate at that time. But a number of things had happened in recent years that made me feel that some things do not happen by chance alone. It had to be more than that. Yes, and was it not Hesse who also had a tendency to believe in fate?

                                               

Maybe a week or so later, l took the bus again to get into town. I sat down in the front of the bus and watched out of the window at nothing in particular. At the next bus stop a young man got on, paid his fare, walked through the bus, and sat down in the rear. The very moment that he walked by, I got a look at his face and asked myself in disbelief, "Was it him? Was it Mike?"

   It had been quite a few years since I had last seen him. But this person looked very much like him; so, after a minute or two I stood up and walked back to where he was sitting. When that man saw me approaching, he looked at me with astonishment. His face had a quizzical appearance. Then a smile came to his face. "Heiner?" I nodded and sat down beside him.

    Within two minutes it  became clear that he was living in one part of this small "witch-house" for more than two years. "That’s funny!" I said. "We have been living so close together and have never met. Astonishing, isn’t it?!"

    "Yes, but most of the times I am at home. And when I go to town, I always ride my bicycle. Look!" He showed me a bicycle on the seat before us, "It is damaged, so, I am now on my way to a bicycle shop. Otherwise, I never take the bus!"

     "Me, too", I said, "but winter and bad weather, you know? Today I felt clumsy trying to ride my bike."So, was this something like fate that this encounter had now come to pass? Or was it only a coincidence, that I meet him only one week after reading his name on the fence? But, either way, it pleased me. 

Before leaving he said to me, "You really must come to visit me at my home." "Yes," I said, "I shall come!" "Do not forget! You’re welcome!" Those were his last words before he got off the bus into that misty, winter day.