24 Hours

She had been standing outside in the cold for a while now, looking a little dreamily at the signboard of our pub. I stacked the chair onto the table and walked out.

"Hallo, can I help you? We are unfortunately closing, but if you are lost and need directions or something, I will be glad to be of assistance."

My words seemed to have jolted her back to reality. She looked at me and smiled, rather absent-mindedly. Still, she didn't say a word.

"Hallo?"

She smiled, shook her head, and started to walk away. I shrugged and started to make my way in again. Suddenly she turned and called out, "Will you be free later?"

"What?"

"I mean after you are done with the packing up…will you be free? It's Saturday right, so there are no lessons…I mean of course you would be tired and want to catch up on sleep…but could you give me just one day of your life…24 hours."

I didn't know if I was more surprised by her request or by the fact that she spoke so much.

Having received no reply, she ventured, "Please?"

I found myself nodding.

She smiled, "I will be waiting here then."

I went back into the pub.

"That's a pretty girl," my colleague nudged me and pointed outside. That was when I realized she was. "What does she want?"

I didn't reply to that, but finished packing up, and announced that I was leaving.

As I stepped out into the cold, she was checking her watch. She smiled as I stopped beside her. "5 in the morning…are you hungry?"

I realized I was, and nodded.

"Is there any place around here that still sells food at this hour?"

"There's an Imbiss around the corner. Doener," I replied.

"Let's go," she said excitedly.

I got us two Doener, and handed one to her. We sat at the tram-stop, eating Doener. She swung her legs a bit as she ate, again with a dreamy expression on her face. "It's the best thing in the world, isn't it? Eating something warm at 5 in the morning, after work, or after partying."

That's true.

"So, why are you here at this hour? Were you at some party or something?" I asked.

She shook her head. And I realized I didn't even know her name.

"What's your name?"

"Alexandra. But you can call me Alex for short."

"Ok, Alex. I am…"

"Florian."

"How did you know?"

"That's a secret."

And she smiled, before turning back to her Doener. I knew I wasn't going to get an answer from her, so I finished up the remaining bit of mine.

"So, what are we going to do next?"

I shrugged. 6 in the morning, not much one can do, even in a city like this.

"Let's go see the sunrise," she said excitedly.

"It's still 2 hours or so away," I reminded her.

"Oh," she fell silent. "But we can start looking for a nice place to watch it from…somewhere high."

I thought for a while. "I think I know a place."

She smiled.

The place I had in mind was the bridge. We could start from one end of it and walk right to the middle, and there would be the sun, gently awakening from her slumber, slowly turning the blue of the river into red, and then gold.

That was exactly what we did.

"Amazing," I heard her say under her breath. She turned to me, "Do you do this often? I mean, you know bring your girlfriend to this bridge to watch the sunrise?"

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"That's true," she said matter-of-factly and turned back to admire the view.

We made our way back to the inner city. People were starting to fill the streets: families with young children in tow, lovers ranging from teenagers to adults to grandparents.

"Last-minute Christmas shopping," I casually remarked.

She didn't seem to have heard me. Instead, she suddenly dashed forward to a window display. I followed behind. Chocolates. I caught her smile in the reflection.

"I wonder how it tastes like," she said, still fixated on the exquisite chocolates on display.

"You have never ever eaten Giovanna's chocolates?" I asked, somewhat incredulously. Giovanna's can be considered to be an institution here: hand-made chocolates steeped in tradition, passed down from one generation to the next; the shop we were standing in front of was the one and only in the city. The entire world, I should say.

She shook her head.

"Where are you from, anyway?" I suddenly realized that she might not have come from this city.

She smiled, "Here."

"Wait," I said, and entered the shop, reappearing later with a box, which I duly opened and passed to her. Her eyes lit up. She took one, and bit into it, closing her eyes as she savored it. She nodded and gave a thumbs-up sign.

We walked on. She looked around at everything, somewhat wide-eyed…which was strange, because having come from here, and having lived here for the whole of my life, I was already used to the sights; I wouldn't be walking around looking as though I was in a foreign city.

She pointed to the small clock tower to the side of the main square. "Is that what people mean, when they say 'by the clock'?"

I looked at her strangely. "Yeah."

She smiled, "It is kind of minimalist, and doesn't really fit the surroundings, with all the grand buildings all around."

"And that must be the old townhouse, with that nice restaurant…"

She continued on her way. I highly doubted that she came from this city. I even doubted if she was living here. Yet she seemed to somehow know the place well, just in a different way.

"I am hungry," she suddenly announced, stopping in the middle of the crowded main street of the pedestrian zone.

Unknowingly, it was already close to one.

"Can you bring me to brunch at Kathilein's?"

That was a good choice. Tucked away in a side alley, Kathilein's is the best place in town for brunch. Small, cozy with excellent food frequented by locals, it is one of those places free from photo-snapping tourists.

I duly brought her there, although I found it funny that she as an inhabitant here did not know where it was. But then again, everything that had happened since 5 a.m. in the morning was beyond my comprehension.

We had to settle for a place in the inner courtyard because the place was already full. The waitress brought us blankets, although it wasn't all that cold, thanks to the heaters that dot the courtyard. Brunch was buffet-style, so she left us after telling us that she would be just inside if we need anything.

I felt a little embarrassed, because Alex was behaving as though she was totally ignorant, had just come from the countryside, or worse- from outer space. She was behaving as though she was seeing everything for the first time in her life. Brunches couldn't be all that different, right?

I was relieved as we were finally done. As I called for the waitress to bring us the bill, Alex told me that she didn't have any money with her. I realized that from morning till now, I had been the one paying for everything.

"Not a single cent?"

She shook her head.

I couldn't believe my luck. I checked my wallet- I didn't have enough for two. By this time, the waitress was here. I sheepishly told her that I needed to go draw some money. She smiled and nodded as she left us again. Alex smiled widely at her. That was when I realized there was some sort of resemblance between them. Anyhow, I quickly went to the nearest automat, came back and made the payment.

"Thanks for the treat," Alex said as we leave Kathilein's.

"You are welcome," I said subdued.

"I would like to see the Christmas Market," she said.

I was already used to her requests. "It's right ahead."

We came to the first of the stalls.

"Pretty!" she exclaimed.

We walked around the stalls, squeezing past the people milling about.

"It isn't so large-scale anymore."

"What?"

She didn't repeat herself, instead wandered off to a stand selling roasted almonds. "I remember eating these when I was still a little girl. I would hold the paper cone with both hands because I was afraid I would drop it… I really haven't eaten this in a while."

"Young lady, how about some roasted almonds?" the owner, a big fat man asked in a gruff but grandfatherly voice.

She smiled and looked at me. I bought her a packet. She ate the almonds happily as we continued on our way.

She suddenly stopped. This time, her attention was on the circular stand selling sausages. There was a giant grill right in the center, and customers would gather around it, behind the counter of course. The vendors would be busy flipping the sausages on the grill, occasionally adding in more charcoal.

"They don't do it like this anymore…not with a real fire…"

What did she mean? I looked at the fire in the middle. This was the only way I knew.

She walked on ahead again, and I had to catch up.

We finally came to the ice-skating rink. We stood by the side, leaning against the railing as we watch the action on the rink. A girl of about 12 was skating in the middle of the rink. She was elegant to watch; it was as though she was born to ice-skate. Her movement was just so natural. She finished her routine and gave a little curtsy in the direction of a man, her father, watching by the rink like us, and they laughed. She was a born performer.
“Bravo!” the man called out. She skated over to him and he patted her on the head.

Alex was strangely quiet. She was looking at the father-daughter pair as well. She smiled slightly; I thought I saw a tear. She turned to me and smiled; I looked away.

"There is one more place I would like to go."

"Uh-huh."

We found ourselves at Riverfront, the warehouse at the riverbank that had been converted to a club. There was a gig tonight, which she wanted to watch. It was a band called Vanille. One of those indie bands, I supposed. They hadn't come on when we entered. There was a big crowd inside. They started cheering when the band members made their appearances one by one. The loudest cheers were reserved for the vocalist.

I was shocked when I realized it was the waitress from Kathilein's. I stole a glance at Alex. She was applauding very enthusiastically- like seeing a friend on stage.

After getting over my initial surprise, I got myself to just relax, enjoy the gig and simply not think about the bizarre coincidences and incidents in the past 20 hours. The band was really good, that much I had to admit. The vocalist had a special aura about her.

"She's good, isn't she?" Alex asked, her eyes fixated still on the stage.

"Yeah…do you know her?"

Alex nodded without looking at me.

The gig ended and we were one of the last few to leave the place. We stood by the river.

She looked at her watch.

It was 4 in the morning. Almost 24 hours.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for the past 24 hours…it was really very nice. I feel as though I understand a lot of things better. although it may be a little too late."

I dug my hands deeper into my pockets, not knowing what to say.

She took a step towards me and hugged me, burying her face in my shoulder. "I am sorry."

She let go of me and took a step back, wiping her tears. She waved, "Merry Christmas."

"And goodbye," she added, almost as an afterthought.

With that, she turned and disappeared into the mist.

**

"The lives of people in the entertainment business are really in a mess," my friend commented.

"Why?" I asked, looking up from my newspaper.

He gestured to the TV. "And the worse thing is their music. Can you even call that music? Man, I…"

I didn't hear him ramble on. Instead, I listened to the newscast. A young singer had passed away. Drug abuse, stress, failed relationships had all taken a toll on her health in the past year. Hospitalized for the past few months, she had finally succumbed to illness. She was 21.

Listening to the news, you would have believed that her life had indeed been a wreck. Her parents divorced when she was 5, with her mother taking custody of her. Her mother was a singer in a band with minor successes, whose dream was to see her daughter succeed where she had failed. Her daughter was a juvenile delinquent and dropped out of school when she was 16. She was eventually taken on by the producer her mother was seeing. Her debut single was a hit, and she went on to record three successful albums, cementing her status as one of a new generation of pop idols. Although popular, she was also a controversial public figure, decried by many to be a negative influence to younger girls, mainly due to her messy private life. It seemed as though she wasn't the kind who could cope well with the limelight, although one had to admit that the paparazzi could be ruthless too. In any case, things started going wrong, or perhaps had never been right in the first place. To sum it up, she had been fighting a losing battle.

Nevertheless, nurses and doctors said that she passed away with a smile on her face, as though she had finally found peace within herself. Strangely, there was also an empty box of Giovanna's chocolates beside her. Giovanna's had closed down about 20 years ago.

And I remembered that strange incident 25 years ago, when I was still a poor student working my way through university.

They started showing a photo slideshow of the singer as a tribute to her. As I looked at her childhood photos being flashed on the screen, I realized the singer they were talking about, whom I hadn't recognized amidst all the make-up and hair-do, was none other than my daughter, whom I hadn't seen since she was 12. Because I was too old for that sort of music, I didn't realize she had become a star. Because her mother had been hell-bent on severing all ties, I didn't get to see her for the past 9 years.

Whatever excuse I could come up with, one fact remained: I wasn't there for her.