Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 8
Chapter 8: Phantom
Banxia had two part-time jobs. Twice a week, she played the violin at Bluegrass Cafe on Bar Street. She also taught violin to elementary school children at Yuying Music School. Because her work was in the evenings and far from campus, she often missed the dormitory curfew, which is why she rented a room off-campus.
On nights she wasn't working, she would sometimes busk at a busy square or subway station, earning some extra cash and practicing her performance skills.
Tonight, after finishing her lesson at Yuying, it was already dusk when she returned home.
Getting off the bus at the dimly lit village entrance, she saw the familiar building by the longan grove in the distance. The village roads were narrow and dark, but the first floor of that building, with its roll-up door open, spilled warm yellow light onto the street. The familiar clatter of mahjong tiles carried on the night breeze.
In the hazy darkness, the light and sound offered a welcoming beacon to those returning home late. Banxia hefted her heavy grocery bags, her heart feeling warm.
Since Xiao Lian had arrived, she seemed to be living the best days she'd had since starting university.
Every morning, she woke to the aroma of food. Though their ingredients were limited, whoever was doing the cooking was clearly skilled. Even the simplest of foods became delicious in their hands.
Yesterday morning, it had been millet porridge with dried longan fruit. This morning, she had woken up to fragrant Chinese toon pancakes.
Every night when she returned, the floor was spotless, the kitchen counter gleaming, even the toilet was scrubbed clean.
She was supposed to be taking care of a pet, but it felt like she was the one being taken care of. What made her feel most embarrassed was that, due to her recent financial difficulties, she hadn't been able to provide Xiao Lian, who was recovering from his illness, with anything better to eat.
Thankfully, she had been paid today. After transferring the rent money to Ying Jie, she still had enough left over to buy a large bag of groceries. Finally, Xiao Lian could eat something decent.
Thinking of this, Banxia smiled and quickened her pace.
She greeted Ying Jie on the first floor and hurried upstairs, pushing open her door. "I'm back! Look, I bought lots of delicious food!"
The terrarium by the wall was empty. The light was on. The window was half-open, the thin curtains swaying gently in the night breeze.
"Xiao Lian?" Banxia put down her violin case, backpack, and grocery bags, and began searching every corner of the small room for the little black figure. "Strange, where did he go?"
Under the bed? Nothing. Bathroom? Not there. Kitchen? No sign.
Banxia opened the window. Her room was small, and the window was right next to the window of the adjacent apartment, their security bars almost touching, separated only by a thin metal grille. The wind rattled the clothes hangers hanging outside her neighbor's window against the bars.
Banxia turned and saw a few damp men's garments hanging outside. The next apartment had been empty. Did they have a new neighbor?
Could Xiao Lian have crawled over there?
Banxia tentatively called out towards the dark window next door. "Xiao Lian?"
There was no response from the dark window. Only the damp white shirts swayed gently in the breeze.
Below the window stretched the expanse of the longan grove, the dark shapes of the trees undulating in the night, extending into the distance. Beyond the grove lay a newly developed residential area, the pointed roofs of luxury villas faintly visible.
If a lizard were to disappear into that, it would be like a fish returning to the sea, a bird to the forest, impossible to find.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, Banxia shouted towards the dark trees, "Xiao Lian!"
Only the rustling of the wind answered her.
Banxia stared at the swaying treetops for a long moment, then stamped her foot, turned, and went downstairs to find Ying Jie, who was still playing mahjong.
"Xiao Lian? You have a pet?" Ying Jie looked up, surprised.
"I just got him a few days ago. He's a small, black lizard," Banxia showed her a picture on her phone. "He was still here when I left this morning."
"Oh dear, why would a young girl like you keep such a thing? You gave me a fright," Ying Jie clutched her chest, glancing at the picture on the phone, shaking her head. "I don't know, I don't know. I haven't seen it. It's so small, maybe a cat got it."
As Banxia turned to go back upstairs, disappointed, Ying Jie suddenly remembered something and called out, "Oh, by the way, Xiaoyue, you have a new neighbor. He just moved in tonight. A handsome young man, from your university."
Banxia searched the entire five-story building, up and down, every nook and cranny, but still couldn't find the tiny black figure. A wave of disappointment washed over her as she trudged back to her room, dejected.
She sat down by the bed, staring at the open window. Xiao Lian had entered her life through this very window on that rainy night. He had come so suddenly, and now he was gone, just as abruptly, without a word.
And during his brief stay, he had been so thoughtful and well-behaved that she had almost believed he would stay forever.
Banxia absently rubbed her fingers. Every finger on her left hand was calloused from years of playing the violin. Years of practice had not only given her calluses but also left a permanent mark on her neck from the violin's chinrest.
She suddenly remembered something her mother had once said: "If you choose this path, you will eventually learn to live with solitude, and even learn to enjoy it."
While other children in her village splashed and played in the pond, she sweated, practicing scales and arpeggios. While other young women went to night markets with their friends, she stood under streetlights, busking.
To afford tuition, she had left the lively dormitory and lived alone in this small room, waking up at dawn and returning late at night. Her old violin was her only companion.
And for a brief moment, she had had another, smaller companion.
A fleeting visitor. He's gone, and that's that.
Banxia turned away from the window, picked up her violin without a word, placed it on her shoulder, and tuned it. She lifted her bow and began to play a melody. Perhaps unintentionally, the piece she chose was "The Phantom of the Opera." The music began like a dream, a soft, low hum, then suddenly turned powerful and resonant, like the Phantom emerging from the shadows, his footsteps slow and deliberate, drawing closer.
Finally, the cloaked figure stood on the windowsill, singing his lament under the moonlight. The music swelled, a captivating, tragic aria, spilling into the night, sinking into the dark sea of trees below.
The winter night was bone-chilling. The layers of trees and the distant buildings seemed to be coated in a thin layer of frost by the magical, surging music.
Next door, a pale hand opened the window, and a man's figure appeared. He wore a coat, his neck exposed, his arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill, silently listening to the melody.
His face was as white as winter snow, but his eyes were as dark as extinguished ashes. His gaze rested on the trees below. Seen through human eyes, the dark place where he had so nearly died was just a small grove.
Probably no one knew that on that cold, rainy night, a small creature had fled from the human world. He had barely climbed down the villa wall when a pair of terrifying, glowing green eyes appeared silently behind him.
A small house cat, a beloved pet to humans, was to him a prehistoric predator. Despite his desperate struggle, his short limbs scrambling frantically through the darkness, he had narrowly escaped its razor-sharp claws several times.
He had stumbled into the longan grove, which, to his small body, felt like a primeval forest, the rain-filled puddles like vast oceans, the small mud pits treacherous swamps.
He crawled through the mud, tumbled through the cold night, facing countless dangers, narrowly escaping death again and again. Finally, he reached the edge of the grove, his injured body collapsing under a pile of dead leaves.
He was exhausted, unable to crawl any further, with nowhere to go.
He knew he was no longer human, and he couldn't even survive as a lizard.
In this vast world, there was no place for a monster like him.
The cold rain pelted his freezing body relentlessly. The wound on his back burned, his strength and warmth ebbing away. Death's footsteps echoed in his ears.
Just as his consciousness began to fade, the sound of a violin reached him through the wind and rain.
In the midst of the bitter winter, the violinist was playing Vivaldi's "Spring." The warm, March-like melody cut through the cold, bringing the soft, bright spring flowers from afar to the shivering creature beneath the dead leaves.
The dying creature looked up and saw the lit window in the rainy night, the figure playing the violin in the light.
Though the window seemed as distant as a mountain peak, the warm music gave him courage. Mustering the last of his strength, he began to climb the damp, cold wall of the building.
The man leaning against the window closed his eyes. A moment later, his pale lips parted slightly, reciting softly along with the violin music in the night, "In sleep he sang to me, In dreams he came, That voice which calls to me, And speaks my name."1
With a faint sigh, a black coat suddenly slumped to the ground by the window. The man was gone.
Banxia lowered her bow, feeling the slight numbness in her left arm.
Even without anyone telling her, she knew she had played well. She had played this song countless times, but this was the first time she felt truly satisfied with her performance.
She could feel the blood rushing through her veins, every pore in her skin tingling. She sighed contentedly, the faint resonance of the strings still lingering in her ears, her heart pounding. It was a rare feeling, a moment of pure exhilaration that only came when a musician perfectly expressed the music in their heart. More satisfying than any other pleasure.
But why did her chest feel so tight, so heavy?
Banxia put away her violin, turned off the light, and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head.
That heartless jerk.
And I even gave him such a nice name, Xiao Lian.
1. ^ Lyrics from "The Phantom of the Opera."
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