4. Instructions in Barcelona (6 pgs.)

ACT I - CHAPTER 4

METAPHYSICS IN BARCELONA

Tuesday August 29, 2017

Barcelona Spain

The next day, Alexandre received a text on his phone. It contained one word: Aristotle. He replied with his own password: Darwin. Moments later, another message arrived. It was an invitation to install a secure coded app. After he installed it, a message appeared indicating time and location. He needed to retire a thick and heavy yellow letter-sized envelope from another trash can near Casa Milà.

“Don’t close the showers yet, I still have to practice long-range shots!” Alexandre shouted to the dressing-room manager. He was exhausted after a routine training session. “Only fifteen minutes more!” he added after lifting weights.

“I’m closing!” the manager shouted twenty minutes later.

“Don’t worry! I’ll shower at home!” Alexandre shouted back.

He didn’t. He drove straight to Casa Milà, parked several blocks away, pulled on his hoodie and sunglasses, and waited until the exact time. Then he walked to the trash can. Inside, a yellow letter-sized envelope. He looked both ways, body tight with nerves, slipped it into his backpack, and left.

At home, he placed the envelope on the black table that divided kitchen and dining room. How did you get here? he thought looking at it.

He tried to trace the chain of cause and effect. The note and the kiss. It’s still in my jacket, he remembered.

He went to his bedroom, took the note from his jacket pocket, and returned. He set it beside the yellow envelope. What’s all this? he thought.

He stepped back, hand on his chin, jaw tight. He moved the note to the head of the table, then placed the envelope behind it. Barely breathing, he watched them both. A note, a yellow envelope… where’s the mark of her lips?

He picked up the note and turned it over. Her lips were stamped on the white paper.

Who are you? he thought and picked it up, remembering the beauty of that redheaded woman.

He pressed his nose to the mark, smelling it.

Who are you?

He set it down again. Are you going to open the envelope or not?

He sighed, went to the kitchen, grabbed a butcher knife, and laid it beside the envelope. The note, the red lips, the knife, the envelope, was all on the black table. His hands were sweating. He took the knife and sliced the envelope open.

Inside was a thick one. It was black, letter-sized and sealed. Written on it: TO ALEXANDRE.

What is this? he thought, muscles tense. He stared at his name in white letters, unable to move.

The yellow envelope also contained a white letter-sized note printed in black capitals. He held it, sighed, and read:

ALEXANDRE, I’M RICARDO. THE BLACK ENVELOPE WAS GIVEN TO ME BY SOMEONE WHO RECEIVED IT FROM RONALD BEFORE HIS DEATH. IT CONTAINS INSTRUCTIONS TO WRITE RONALD’S PHILOSOPHY BOOK. YOU WILL WRITE IT, AND WE WILL HELP YOU. WE WILL MEET IN SECRET. THE FIRST MEETING WILL BE ON OCTOBER 14, AFTER YOUR NEXT MATCH IN ROME. LOOK FOR THE MAN IN THE YELLOW BERET AT THE HOTEL. HE WILL TAKE YOU TO US. NOW OPEN THE BLACK ENVELOPE.

Alexandre slid the note back into the yellow envelope and pushed it to the corner of the table beside the note with the red lips. Then he picked up the heavy black envelope, pressed it, and shook it gently. What do you have inside?

He set it down in the table, took the knife, and opened it carefully. Inside were more envelopes, all sealed. He removed them and began to organize them.

One was large, red, thick, heavy. He placed it beside the black one. The rest were long, common-sized white envelopes. Nine of them were tied with a ribbon. He untied them. GUIDE MEETING #1 through GUIDE MEETING #9. He tied them again and placed the set beside the unopened red envelope.

Another four white envelopes were tied together too:

CARD #1: METAPHYSICS.

CARD #2: EPISTEMOLOGY.

CARD #3: THE I.

CARD #4: ETHICS.

He laid them next to the meeting guides.

Another was marked INDEX. The last one read: ALEXANDRE: OPEN FIRST.

He stepped back and looked at the display spread across the black table. What is this? he thought again. Knife in hand, he traced each item with its tip: the note with the red lips, the yellow envelope, the black, the red, the white ones with the guides and cards, until he reached the one marked ALEXANDRE: OPEN FIRST.

What is this? he thought once more.

He picked it up and sat down, setting it on the black table. He carefully opened it; his hands trembling. Inside was a letter, printed in capital letters. He read:

ALEXANDRE, IF YOU ARE READING THIS IS BECAUSE I AM DEAD. A MAFIA KILLED ME. YOU WILL HAVE TO WRITE THE BOOK WITHOUT ME. TWO FAMOUS FOOTBALL PLAYERS WILL HELP YOU. TRUST THEM.

Alexandre’s eyes filled with tears. I can’t believe this is happening, he thought. He continued reading:

YOU WILL HAVE TO DO WEEKEND MEETINGS. NINE IN TOTAL. ONCE PER MONTH. ALL DAY SATURDAYS. ALL DAY SUNDAYS. YOU WILL DEBATE THE CONTENT OF THE BOOK. THAT IS HOW YOU ARE GOING TO WRITE IT.

Alexandre read with tears in his eyes, barely breathing.

OPEN THE ‘GUIDE MEETINGS’ ENVELOPES AT THE BEGINNING. READ THEM ALOUD TO START EACH ONE. I MIGHT BE DEAD, BUT I CAN STILL ACT. HA!

He smiled, remembering Ronald’s humour. He used to make jokes all the time at that same kitchen table. It had been their favourite place for philosophical meetings. Alexandre noticed his hands were still shaking. A tear fell onto the black granite table.

IN THE MEETINGS, DISCOVER, DEBATE, ASK QUESTIONS. EXPLAIN WITH OBJECTS. USE EXAMPLES AND FOOTBALL METAPHORS. IMPROVISE. BE CREATIVE.

OUR READERS ARE EAGLES. FORGET CHICKENS.

RECORD THE AUDIO. MAKE A SUMMARY. IT WILL BE THE TEXT OF THE BOOK. SUCCESS! NOW OPEN THE ENVELOPE NAMED “CARD #1: METAPHYSICS.”

Alexandre sat tense and motionless. His breathing almost stopped. His eyes brimmed with tears. He could no longer hold them back. He began crying like a child. Between sobs, he stood, determined not only to write the book but also to avenge Ronald’s death.

He poured a whisky to calm himself. Then he opened the envelope named CARD #1: METAPHYSICS. Inside was a gold colour card, similar to a wedding invitation. He read the question written in Spanish.

It read: Where are you?

He knew everything started with that question. It was about metaphysics. His gaze stretched to the horizon of the Mediterranean, then returned over the lights of the city like a messenger bird carrying good news to his hands.

He looked at the thick cardboard and read the raised letters again, eyes still wet.

“Where am I?” he whispered. “In Barcelona, looking at the Mediterranean,” he answered himself aloud. “Determined to write the book and avenge your death.”

After locking everything in the safe, Alexandre went for a walk. Where am I? he repeated in his mind. Here in Barcelona. But the answer couldn’t be that simple. In relation to what? he thought.

When he returned, he took everything out of the safe again. He knew he had to move carefully. He made a plan to protect every detail, to act with maximum secrecy. When he finished, he went to bed. Where am I? The question echoed as he fell asleep and entered the world of dreams.

He woke at eight, showered, and had breakfast. Gloria, the cleaner, arrived at nine as he left for the club. He remembered the question: Where am I?

“Where am I?” he asked aloud while driving through Barcelona toward training. He thought of Ronald. What do you want me to understand, my dear friend? There must be a deeper answer.

At least he knew he was in Barcelona. But where was Ronald’s car? Why had the police hidden it and stopped the investigation? Strange, he thought, then heard a shout.

“Where are you, Alexandre!” Greg yelled during practice. “Your head’s on the moon! Focus!”

If you only knew, Greg. If you only knew, Alexandre thought.

Later, in his apartment, he opened the safe and took out the big red envelope. Inside were Ronald’s scattered notes and a summary of his version of the book. He also opened the envelope marked INDEX and read the draft of a detailed outline.

He studied Ronald’s notes on metaphysics. The conclusion was clear: metaphysics wasn’t mystical. It was the study of material existence as a whole. It was different from physics, which studies matter’s behaviour and composition.

He had much to do. He would need to form his own conclusions, make a summary of metaphysics, and take it to the first philosophical meeting. There he would meet Ricardo and another man. The image of the man with the yellow beret haunted him. He had to find him in Rome.

He looked at the calendar. I have to hurry.

Until that day came, his apartment became a philosophy lab, with notes, drawings, and models everywhere. Each helped him grasp what objective metaphysics truly meant.

It was then that he invented the metaphysical tetrahedron. The first model he did was of cardboard.