David smiled. “I hope I didn’t disappoint in person.”
“On the contrary. I was even more impressed.”
5
David
David remembered Kajeck mentioning reading his book, but the reason he’d given for seeking him out had been his interest in post-traumatic stress disorder and David’s research on the subject.
Since the guy hadn’t seemed to suffer from that disorder or any other issues, David had assumed that he’d been inquiring for the benefit of a friend or a relative. Except, Kajeck hadn’t asked him to provide anyone with a private consultation, so the interest might have been purely academic.
Not that he cared about the Russian’s motive for spending thousands of dollars for the privilege of talking to him. The money was good, and the company even better. Kajeck was among the very few people David had taken an immediate liking to.
From their first meeting it had been like reconnecting with an old friend or a family member, someone who broadcast on the same wavelength as he, and that was incredibly rare and pleasurable. Throughout his life David had encountered only a handful of people who’d evoked that feeling in him, and he would have gladly made time for Zolotovsky even without being paid.
Leaning forward, David smiled. “Thank you. I remember you mentioning that you’d read it, but we haven’t discussed it. You seemed more interested in my research.”
Kajeck shrugged. “I welcome all knowledge, and you are very passionate about the subject. Your insights made me realize that several of my close associates might have a mild case of the disorder. Our conversation provided me not only with a better understanding of some of their behaviors, but also gave me better tools to deal with them, as well as with people in general. Compassion doesn’t come naturally to me. It’s more of an intellectual concept.”
That was in line with David’s impression of Zolotovsky. The guy was cerebral to his core. In fact, it was odd that he felt such a strong connection to a man who exhibited so little emotion.
Perhaps that was the guy’s secret, though. There was a calm and a sense of purpose about him that was refreshing and reassuring.
“I’m glad I could help.” David took in a deep breath. “Sometimes, I wish it was an intellectual concept for me as well. Detachment would have made my life a lot easier, but I can’t help the way I’m made. I feel for people. So many carry around incredible pain, and they don’t have the tools to deal with it. They try to hide it, to put a smile on it, to go on with their lives, but it corrodes them from the inside. And I’m not talking only about their mental health. The emotional pain profoundly affects their physical health as well.”
Kajeck nodded. “In my humble and unprofessional opinion, excessive preoccupation with inner pain makes the burden heavier. I’m all for distractions, as long as they are not destructive, that is.” He smiled. “Taking mind-altering drugs or drowning one’s sorrow in alcohol is not the answer. What I’m referring to are healthy distractions like reading or doing something meaningful or creative.” He leaned back and smiled. “I don’t have any artistic abilities, but I consider myself a creative thinker, and so are you, my friend.”
“Thank you. But just to clear up a misconception, some hallucinogenic drugs are actually beneficial for treating depression and anxiety. At this point, their use for that purpose is limited to experimentation, though. John Hopkins has a center for psychedelic and consciousness research. They focus on how psychedelics affect behavior, mood, cognition, brain function, and biological markers of health.”
Kajeck’s eyes lit up. “Fascinating. Why aren’t you there? It’s right up your alley.”
“Not really.” David sighed. “There is only so much one person can do, and my interests gravitate toward different avenues of research at the moment.”
Kajeck smiled knowingly. “Are you referring to past life memories? One of the ideas that I loved about your novel was your firm belief in reincarnation. You wrote that the reason most reincarnated souls lose memories of their previous lives is to allow them a fresh start that is unburdened by previous suffering. Only those with unresolved issues or traumas too severe to overcome carry them over to their next life.”
Since the Russian wasn’t a colleague, and their conversation was private, David allowed himself to reveal the connection between his official research and his fiction writing. “That’s why it is so important to help people deal with their pain in this life. Some can manage that on their own, but some need help.”
“I agree wholeheartedly.” Kajeck took a sip of water and then put the glass down on the table. “Which group do you belong to, professor? Did you deal with your loss on your own, or did you seek help?”
David was taken aback. It seemed that his guest had done more than read his book. The guy had researched his personal life, and that was creepy.
“Did you have a dossier compiled on me, Mr. Zolotovsky?”
Kajeck waved a dismissive hand. “I’m a careful man, Professor Levinson. And I don’t meet with people I haven’t had investigated first. When it’s a new potential business associate the investigation is quite thorough, but in your case, my instructions were to prepare a file only from what’s freely available on the internet. That was how I learned about your brother’s death. It must have been very difficult for you to lose your twin. I’m sure that the connection between twins is stronger than that of regular siblings.”
David swallowed the bile rising up in his throat.
“My brother and I were fraternal twins. Our genetic similarity was no greater than that of siblings born apart.”
He and Jonah had been two very different people, in looks as well as in character. Jonah had taken after their father, while David was the male version of their mother. They hadn’t gotten along all too well either. But Kajeck was right about the connection. When one of them had been hurt, the other one would feel it, and when Jonah had died, David had felt an acute chest pain as if he had been the one experiencing the myocardial infarction. When the pain had passed, he had known that his brother was gone.
Regrettably, the connection hadn’t survived Jonah’s death.
David hadn’t received any communications from the beyond, not even in dreams. For a while he’d been tempted to seek a medium’s help to contact his brother, but that was going too far even for him. If anyone had gotten wind of that, he would have been completely discredited.
He’d even considered the use of psychedelics but had been too chicken to try.
“Nevertheless, I’m sure that you felt a special connection with your brother.”
“Naturally, but Jonah and I weren’t close. I always hoped that would change once both of us had families. Regrettably, my brother was taken so unexpectedly and at such a young age.”
Kajeck regarded him with his penetrating blue eyes. “Did your brother’s death inspire your current novel? Creativity is a great outlet for processing pain.”
He shook his head. “The current novel has been brewing in my mind for the past seven years, two full years before Jonah’s death, but I have no doubt that the loss influenced the story.”