IN & OUT OF LIFE - Chapter 118 - The wine connoisseur (Mechtel)

THE WINE CONNOISSEUR (Mechtel)

I'm in the corridor of a building. The ceiling is arched and decorated in good color combinations including royal-blue, black, and white. Tall as I am, it's not that high above my head. I'm here with another man who is leading me to the door of a room. He's a bit anxious as if unsure of himself, but he's very friendly and eager to help. I enter the room. The man I'm here to meet has another visitor whom he seems quite familiar with, like a friendly business associate. They appear to have moved on to the informal socializing after their formal meeting. The other man is holding a glass of a dark liquid. The man I'm here to meet is quite self confident. He makes an effort to meet me halfway in the more eloquent version of my regional dialect: Genovese. I laugh and reply in the language which is more regularly used between us. The other man, however, speaks a language I'm not familiar with and I don't even know what it is, but he also speaks a bit of Latin, albeit with faulty grammar. After talking for a while, I've really started to take a liking to him. We're sitting down by a small table near the window, the late afternoon sun shining in. I'm feeling slightly intoxicated, my third glass of sweet wine nearly empty. I try to accommodate to the small language rift between the other visitor and myself. I draw an imaginary map on the table as I explain in which places I've done what. Some of the place names are different, but that's where our joint acquaintance can step in. Maybe it's the sunlight or maybe it's the wine, but I feel quite enamored and mesmerized by the other man, the way he tries to establish a connection, struggling to find words yet sounding so musical. I wonder if I've met him before. I've met a lot of people in my life, and I'm looking for clues of our possible previous encounter in the places which he mentions to have visited himself. When he laughs with his mouth wide open, I notice he's missing some teeth on the left side. Suddenly, I feel a bit of a hot flash, so I apologetically mention that I will open my belt so that I can unbutton my jacket - the belt is over the jacket - cause I'm feeling rather hot. I get up and remove my royal-blue velvet jacket, and fold it neatly before hanging it over the back of the empty chair to my left. The man whom I'm visiting asks if we shouldn't go down to the "rooms" (i.e. the wine cellars) as now seems to be the right time since it's about to get dark and cooler outside. I'm not a fan of these small spaces with low ceilings, especially when it's dark inside. 'Ah, yes' I say, trying to sound more convinced of the suggestion than I actually am. I get up and grab my jacket, but I don't feel ready to put it back on. The other men seem to be waiting for me to put it on, but I awkwardly and without words let them know that I'm not intending to put it back on just yet. As we leave the room, we find a young woman passing by who at first glance appears to be quite beautiful, though I didn't catch a glimpse of her face. She's barefoot, is wearing a long, white dress, and has blond hair. Something about her reminds me of Julia, though she's much younger than Julia would be by now. As I look back and find her gone round the corner, I imagine that perhaps she was an angel. I'm not the only one to have noticed her almost magical presence, though. The man I came to meet says: 'Did you see her?' I smile, as does the other man, looking down shyly, but neither of us comment. As we're getting near the door at the end of the corridor, the first man informs us on who she is. She's a botanical healer. That along with the fact that I didn't see her face makes her seem even more mysterious and angelical. It's quite chilly outside as some strong wind has come up. The first man stops in front of the building. We exited through a side door. He looks at me and says 'jacket' meanwhile moving his arms in a "put on jacket" gesture. Despite feeling cold, I refrain from putting it on now as it's a cumbersome procedure, the sleeves being quite narrow and all. The second guy, now a tiny bit drunk, laughs and jests as he walks behind me, patting my arms, supposedly against the cold. A few steps further, I sneeze. 'Well, there it is' the first man says, as the stone structure is in sight. He then leaves to the left to get something or someone, either the key or the person who has the key. The other visitor and I wait outside, my shoulders scrunched up from the cold. 'Why don't you put that jacket on?' he says in a soft and soothing voice. The way he speaks sounds as if he's openly admitting that he knows me from before. Then, it comes to me. I don't remember from where I know him, but I do remember a name. "Heinrich" I say. He laughs. "Friedrich" he corrects me. Ah… Friedrich, I think to myself, wondering who on earth Heinrich was. 'Come on' he says, and smacks me on the upper arm as the other guy is now approaching with someone else. Reluctant as I am to go inside the narrow place - the small doorway emphasizes it even more - I ask if perhaps he can just bring out the bottles he wants to show me where we can see them in the moonlight. It's past sunset now but not completely dark yet. I use my poor night vision as an excuse. I was going to put on my jacket by now, but the sheer thought of going into that dark and narrow wine cellar makes me feel hot again. He goes in and comes out with two bottles in different shapes, struggling to read what he partially knows should be written on the label. According to this label, which none of us, given the dimness, can read all too well, this particular wine is thirteen years old. The other man opens his mouth and gasps. I now recognize him as Tina. I look at him and smile. I don't want to ruin his astonishment, so I'll refrain from telling him that I once saw a wine bottle that's eighteen years old. We didn't drink of it, of course, at the time cause it was supposed to age till it reached twenty years.

Q: What about the other bottle? And why did you come here?

Mechtel: The other bottle is rectangular and smaller in size. It has a lot of dust on it. That one contains a liquor. The man explains which region of North-Africa he got it from. It's extremely prized, given that he got hold of it at a time when the local authorities were raiding people's storage rooms (often disguised as barns) to confiscate all alcoholic beverages above a certain percentage. Upon inspection of the goods by an expert, any grape beverages of low percentage were allowed to be kept for those who could not help themselves due to chronic alcohol dependence. A bunch of the confiscated bottles were then sold for high prices to those that would export it abroad. The bottle got a stamp on the label, stating that it was illegal to be consumed locally but eligible for export. This is because they saw an opportunity to earn money from it. Now, why I came here… I came here to meet my friend, of course, and to talk business with him. He wants to sell me this liquor bottle, and tells me it's the most prized one he has in his possession. I asked him for something special, something exquisite. I typically bring him some goods and we make an exchange. It's a passion of mine, as I go from one place to another, to introduce foreign curiosities in exchange for a local specialty.

Q: How old are you?

Mechtel: Forty nine.

Q: And what did you bring him in exchange this time?

Mechtel: Well, it's a silver-colored necklace with small and clear faceted gemstones. I doubt he'd want it for personal use, but he might find a good buyer for it eventually. If we can't agree on an exchange, we just exchange handshakes. That's the kind of friendship we have. I also brought some nutmeg seeds (about seven or so) for him to try out. I'll offer them at inns too if I find the cook to be good enough to indicate that he might take an interest in refining his dishes.

Following the life of Mechtel, there were two more incarnations of short duration. These have previously been covered. In one of them, Q1 tried to incarnate as the child of the incarnation of Mechtel's mother. The father of this baby was likely Mechtel's son. This incarnation ended with a case of blood poisoning which killed both mother and child. The story can be found in Past Life Diary 1 - Story 112 - The Wandering Soul. The other incarnation was a failed merge between Q1 and Q2. This one can be found in Past Life Diary 1 - Story 85 - The merge.