Grief is an inevitable feeling. You are bound to feel it someday or another. If it comes too early, it leaves you scared, and if it comes too late, it leaves you empty. If you hold it too close, you will burn; if you hold it too far, it'll make you cold. Grief also makes you do weird things. It made Athira book an unplanned flight to Norway. She had never even been to Europe, in fact. But today there she was, standing in front of a wooden cabin, in the cold and lonely streets of Western Europe. Her eyes staring at the dark wooden door infront, hands refusing to move. Doubt, an intense self-doubt plauged her mind. She stood there for 30 minutes, the barely visible sun started to dissappear in the clouds. The temperature dropped even more, the leather coat she was wearing no longer kept her calm. Finally she raised her hand towards the bell.
As her finger pressed the cold surface of the bell, Athira let out a breath. The bell rang, tearing through the silence of the streets. Her hands shivering and sweating, feet constantly tapping. The sound of footsteps, faint at first, became louder and louder with each passing second. After some time, a booming voice said, "Coming, just wait a second!"
After a while, the door finally opened. A man, probably in his mid-forties, was standing inside the cabin. He gave a bright smile and said,
"Come on inside! You must be freezing out there!"
Without thinking, Athira stepped inside the wooden cabin. It was warm, the smell of wood burning filled the place.
"Just place your coat on the chair there," Arvind said.
Athira took off her black coat, which was covered by a sprinkle of snowflakes, and placed it on a wooden chair.
"I thought you were coming before noon. What took you so long?" Arvind said.
"Oh, I got confused with the address," Athira said with a nervous chuckle at the end, her voice dry and weak.
"Coffee or juice?" Arvind asked.
"Just water, please," Athira replied.
Her eyes wandered the length of the cabin: a large navy-colored sofa, two kids sitting on it watching a game, a fireplace, and a small chihuahua staring back at her, sitting on the arm of the sofa. There was a small hallway with two doors in it on the right side of the room.
"Here you go," Arvind passed her the glass of water.
Athira muttered a thank you, she gulped and set the glass on the brown top.
Her gaze shifted to the children.
"Your kids?" Athira asked.
"Yes, Jordan and Lily, come meet our guest," Arvind called out to his children.
The two kids got up from the sofa, the older one throwing the TV remote back onto it. They both turned to face Athira. The older boy scrunched his eyebrows, and the younger girl smiled shyly.
"Hiii," Athira said, trying her best to sound cheerful and friendly.
"Hello, miss," said the older one in a monotonous voice.
"Hii," said the little girl, her voice filled with innocence.
"What are your names?" Athira asked.
"My name is Jordan and her name is Lily," said the boy.
"Such nice names. Which class are you in?" Athira asked.
"3rd and 1st," Jordan said and turned his gaze from Athira to his father.
"You can go now, just don't make too much noise," Arvind said, his hands gesturing them to go back to their place.
"Come," Arvind said and started walking across the lobby. The chihuahua jumped down from the sofa and started following him. Athira bit the inside of her cheek and started walking too, the bag on her shoulder making noise as she moved. Arvind opened a door and walked inside; he held it for Athira.
The room looked like a study, but the look of the place was much different than the rest of the house. The walls a pale grey color, two small windows with the blinds down, a black desk and chair, and two small stools.
Arvind walked up to the desk and sat down on the chair.
"Sit," he said in a calm tone. Athira sat down and placed her bag on the stool next to her. The metal stools felt cold. She opened the zip of her bag and took out a small diary and pen.
"You really came prepared, I thought it would be just a casual conversation," Arvind said, his voice showing shock and a hint of disappointment.
"I wouldn't waste a ticket to Norway for a casual conversation," Athira said, her voice more authoritative. She opened the diary and looked at the questions she had written down. Arvind petted the dog now lying in his lap.
"When did you start working at the laboratory?" Athira asked.
Arvind, taken aback by the sudden question, just stared at Athira's face for a moment.
"Just jumping straight into the questions, are we?" Arvind said, the amusement clear in his voice. "I think I started working there around 15 years ago."
"What led you to work there? And did you know what you were working on?" Athira asked.
"One of my professors at that time recommended me to the officials working there. I needed a job, and they provided me one."
Just as Arvind was finishing his sentence, the sound of a doorknob turning hit Athira's ears. Her body tensed up.
"You didn't answer my other question," Athira said.
"No, I didn't know anything about what I was working on. In fact, I don't think any of us knew," Arvind said.
"Look, kid, us scientists are just machines. We perform certain functions or do some research. None of this is for our personal benefit, we just do all this to feed our families," Arvind said.
"Most of the time, we don't even know the people we are working for," Arvind said, his voice no longer calm, but rather eerie. Athira said nothing.
"Can you tell me the names of your coworkers involved in the project?" Athira asked, her voice almost apathetic.
"Yeah, sure, but I can only tell you about a couple of them. Bhaskar was one of the main guys I was working with. He led the rest of us. He's a great guy, he actually moved back to India just a couple of months ago," Arvind said, trying to sound cheerful.
Athira jotted down the name in her diary.
"When the project was running tests, did you tell the subjects what it was about?" Athira asked in a careful tone, fingers fidgeting with a pen, eyes extremely focused.
"The officials made the subjects sign all the paperwork and told them everything. We only performed the experiment," Arvind said. "I know what happened was wrong, but trust me, none of us knew what we were doing," he sounded scared now.
Athira's jaw clenched as she heard footsteps coming closer to the door. In the heat of the conversation, she hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings.
"Did you invite anyone else as well?" Athira questioned.
Arvind checked the clock on his desk and said,
"It's probably just my wife coming back from work."
Athira's eyes flickered to the small windows. The blinds were down, but the silhouette of black cars could be seen.
Athira gripped the pen in her hand. Suddenly, she got up and said, "I'll come back some other day, thank you for meeting me," as she started putting her diary away. Arvind looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes.
"Why are you going all of a sudden? You should stay with us for a couple of days, maybe take a tour of our country," Arvind offered, his hands trembling and his voice laced with desperation.
"No, thanks. I'll save that trip for another day." Athira opened the door and walked outside.
The dog had started following her now. But there was something different, there were three glasses on top of the counter, and a door just before the study was now open.
Athira turned back for a split second. Arvind had stood up from his chair and was rushing out of the study. She turned her gaze to the young boy who was now standing near the windows, peeking through the blinds. The little girl looked up and mouthed, "Go!"
Athira walked out of the cabin. There were two black cars and a taxi on the road. She walked up to the taxi and sat down in it.