ʺIt happened during the night between the seventeenth and eighteenth, in the protected zone of the Bllok,” Comrade Raven said. “As it happened, I was positioned on a maple tree near the villa of the prime minister. Perched on a branch overlooking the first floor, I could clearly see his study with its dark-wood desk and old-fashioned lamp, his chair and paintings hanging on the wall. I could also see his bedroom (he sleeps separately from his wife). I perhaps should say that, although there are curtains on that window, on the said night the curtains were not drawn.
“As I am sure you yourself noticed, there was a storm last night. It was raining heavily, strong gusts of wind bowed the trees, and dramatic bolts of lightning created a heavy atmosphere. Ominous, one might say in hindsight.”
Here Mother tried to interrupt him — this word ominous bothered her and she wanted him to focus on it, on his choice of the word — but Comrade Raven indicated that he didn’t want to be interrupted. See, it was already obvious to me that he didn’t want to be taken on as a case, to be analyzed, that is. But Mother didn’t see that yet, which surprised me. She didn’t know that he only wanted her to listen to him.
More description follows, then Comrade Raven comes to the point:
“At first nothing happened. It was already late at night, past midnight, but the man sat there at his desk, almost motionless. After a while he stood up, looking at his watch and then through the window, as if expecting a visitor. A moment later he turned his head toward the door. He did not nod or show any sign of recognition. But I am sure that someone entered his study at this point. However, I couldn’t say that for a fact. I only saw a giant shadow against the white wall in the room. Why do I even think of it as a man’s shadow? I could not say if it was a man’s or a womanʹs; it did not have the distinct shape of a human being or any distinct shape at all, for that matter.
ʺIt is this shadow that bothers me now. For the next few hours, it dominated the room of the minister, somehow looming over him, overwhelming him. No, not for a moment did I see the person who owned that shadow — if indeed there was one. I only saw something, another presence (that would be the most exact word) moving in the room, bending over the man at his desk, the light, the wall. Looking at the scene from outside, it appeared to me as if this shadowy presence was reproving the minister. That it was threatening him. Because the closer it came to him, the more he leaned back in his chair, until he just slumped, covering his face with his hands — as if to protect himself against an assault. It was a desperate gesture, as if he were saying, Why don’t you believe me? and at the same time pleading for understanding — not for mercy, no! I don’t think so, although the atmosphere appeared to me as menacing. And in view of what happened afterward, when the shadow. well.
ʺPerhaps I should have come closer to the window. But I couldn’t, because of the storm.
“Then the shadow left the room, or at least moved somewhere where I could not see it any longer.
“He was a very proud, I dare say, very stiff man. I am sure he pleaded for understanding. But understanding of what? And to whom? Whose was that ominous presence in his room on that terrible night of the storm? They say that the Devil can be recognized by his lack of a shadow. But I thought afterward — what is one supposed to call a shadow without a man? Can you tell me, Comrade Doctor?ʺ
Well, I certainly am not willing to believe that Raven engaged in such metaphysical questions that evening with my mother. The shadow must have had a distinct shape, you know. It loomed and looked gigantic because of the effect of the light, no doubt. But it was definitely a man who visited the minister, someone he knew well, since he showed no surprise. An old friend, perhaps? My question is more down-to-earth: Why did Raven (see, I accept the Aesopian language of my mother) spy on the minister that night, unless this was precisely his duty?
Anyway, my mother just listened as he went on:
“The minister sat at his desk for a long time; I thought heʹd fallen asleep. Then he stood up and came to the window again. I clearly saw his very pale face as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass.
“What happened afterward occurred in plain view. But — how to tell you? I did and I did not see it. How can I explain it? If it hadn’t been for that shadow, whose presence was almost more real than the minister himself, I’d say I had witnessed a classic suicide. The minister first took a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote a short note — I mean, it didn’t take long, the writing. Then, as if he had an afterthought, he reached for another sheet of paper and wrote something; this time it took longer, because he paused several times. Only then did the minister take a pistol from the drawer and put it on the desk, keeping it under the palm of his hand a while, as if warming it up. As far as I could see, he did not look desperate but rather calm. But before he pulled the trigger, I realized that he saw the shadow again! It had never left his room. The minister looked at it, his eyes wide open with fear, and then quickly pulled the trigger. As his head fell forward, I saw first a fountain of blood gush out, and then crimson drops slowly slide down the wall behind him.
“And then. and then. I saw the most incredible, most horrendous thing happen. I saw it — I did! — the shadow come up to him and lean over his body, as if checking to see that he was really dead. It then switched the light off and left the room. I swear I saw the light go off.
“When I think now that I am the last being who saw him alive. ʺ
Here Mother writes in her notes that, at this point, she suggested that he might have taken some substances and suffered from a hallucination. But my impression is that she wrote this not as a real possibility but only as part of what she thought was her carefully constructed fable. In any case, he responded to her:
“Was I imagining a shadow? Hallucinating? Seeing the effect of the lamp light that night? Yes, that is of course possible. But what confuses me is that the whole thing, the duel between that wretched man and the shadow, lasted so long. Probably a couple of hours, although it seemed to me like the whole night now. Could I have really been looking at some kind of play that nature had arranged for me? Or was it a shadow-theater performance? No, I don’t think so.
“You see, I am convinced that the shadow was. his soul. What is a shadow without a body? If it is not another shape assumed by the Devil, then it must be the soul. But the minister’s soul was a dark, menacing, evil soul. Yet, his own! This was the most tragic thing for me, to see how dark his soul was.”
I think that my mother wanted to comment on this but then gave up. There are traces left of her writing that she obviously erased. It must have been fascinating for her to hear raven (or Raven, or whoever that person was) mention both the Devil and the soul. Albania was proud of being the first atheist country in the world! No churches to pray in here; they were all turned into storehouses or assembly halls, over two thousand of them, of all denominations. It also meant that religious concepts and expressions such as the Devil and the soul were exorcised from the language. From the public language, that is. Yet it would have been highly unlikely that a person used them even privately, and in such a matter-of-fact manner, as if he really believed they existed! Well, perhaps not, if that person also was really a patient believing he was a bird, of course. But what if this person was only disguised as a patient by my mother? So he could say what he wanted, all the while being treated (in her notes) as a psychotic persona. I think that she might have herself put these religious words into Raven’s mouth, just to illustrate to the outsider (the unintended reader) how sick he was, since no person in his right mind would ever utter them.