Above life

He woke up drenched in sweat and with a slight headache. He couldn't quite remember the nightmare that had caused his sudden awakening. He had fragments of it. A peaceful landscape, him with a fishing rod, sitting on a folding chair above the water, and the soothing sound of crickets singing along to the setting sun. It seemed idyllic. He remembered so much from that dream, and he had no idea how the pleasant images still lingering in his head had morphed into a nightmare that could terrify him so much that he woke up with a last will and cry. Derek, a tall, handsome, and athletic computer scientist, couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up so abruptly. He wasn't sure if it had ever happened to him before.

However, ever since his best friend disappeared under circumstances still unexplained, he hadn't been in the best of shape. He and Jeremy had been inseparable since they met in high school. Such a friendship was a once-in-a-lifetime affair. He was certain of it, and others could say whatever they wanted, that he would never meet a man like Jeremy again. He would never experience such a strong and unconditional friendship. He had no doubt about it. They shared their deepest secrets and never hid anything from each other. There were arguments, of course, but nothing could destroy the love that had blossomed between them. They became the brothers they never had. Both were only children from broken homes. Their parents were quarreling and divorced. And fate brought them together on the threshold of a difficult adolescence, as if they were to provide each other with the support they needed for the rest of their lives. They understood each other's inner struggles, because the same thing had happened to both. They had lost harmony and peace at home. In both cases, their parents' divorce had not been without arguments and mutual accusations. The only difference in their fates was the fact that, after the divorce, Derek moved in with his mother, and Jeremy with his father. Neither could cope with the new situation. But they had to eventually come to terms with it. It so happened that they met shortly after their parents separated. The wound was fresh, and subconsciously feeling that each understood the other because they were experiencing something similar, they became friends almost immediately. This wasn't a dry, friend-to-friend relationship; practically immediately, after two or three honest conversations, they realized that they would form the most sincere and strongest friendship imaginable. They never would have imagined that fate would treat them so harshly, that their friendship would at some point be so brutally cut short. Or rather, Derek wouldn't have expected it, even in the worst-case scenarios. Because he would never know what Jeremy thought about it. Well, maybe someday. But that would be a different reality. If this "different" reality even existed. Derek wasn't a man of strong faith, and after everything, after the whole situation with his friend's disappearance, his faith had been further shaken and weakened.

And now, as he sat there at 4 a.m., as he noticed by looking at the illuminated dial of his watch, with all these thoughts swirling in his head, he felt even stronger inside that he had to figure out how his best friend could have disappeared.

The police conducted a large-scale search for two weeks, but without success. At the spot where Jeremy was last seen by a local resident, only fishing tackle, a broken piece of fishing rod, and a bloody shirt were found. DNA tests confirmed it was Jeremy's blood. The lake where his belongings were found was thoroughly searched by divers, but nothing else was discovered. No other traces were found. And so, Jeremy was eventually added to the missing persons file, a fact that Derek couldn't accept. He traveled to Dremois as soon as possible and began his own investigation. He questioned several residents of a small town located on a lake locals call "Black Lady." The only thing he learned was the origin of the name. It likely comes from the fact that at night, when the water is dark, the lake appears so noble and tranquil, yet mysterious and somehow unpredictable. And so, during one of the drinking bouts in the town pub, someone blurted out that he was going for a swim in the Black Lady. It stuck. Derek, however, wasn't there to discuss the history of the lake's name. Frankly, it didn't interest him much. But he didn't get anything more out of the people who wanted to talk to him. And there weren't many of them.

He couldn't find the man who had given the police statement, and the few people he spoke to couldn't tell him where he lived. It seemed he had recently settled in Dremois and hadn't yet won the favor of others.

Derek visited the spot on the lake where Jeremy's broken fishing rod had been found and thoroughly searched it. He even brought his diving equipment, and although he had only dived a few times on a course he had once taken on a whim, he had no qualms about thoroughly checking the lakebed for two days.

Like the divers hired by the police, he hadn't found even the slightest trace. After three days, he left town, cursing it with all his heart. Almost a month and a half had passed since Jeremy's disappearance. Derek was losing hope that his friend might still be alive. Besides, he probably hadn't had any from the very beginning, when he'd learned of the bloody shirt scrap. He hadn't seen his parents. He didn't want to be a comfort, and besides, he didn't really know them. He'd only met his father, with whom Jeremy had moved in after his parents' divorce, a few times. He'd met his mother by chance. He couldn't even remember the exact circumstances. In any case, it ended with only a formal introduction. After that, he never saw his friend's parents again. He hadn't visited Jeremy's girlfriend either after receiving the news of his disappearance. He'd disliked that mean, opinionated woman from the moment he'd met her. But for Jeremy's sake, he pretended to tolerate her. He could see that his friend was taking this relationship very seriously. However, Derek felt it couldn't last, and that one day he would realize how much he was being used by this woman and simply leave her. At least he hoped so. After Jeremy's disappearance, she was certainly the last person he wanted to discuss this with. Linda, for that was her name, hadn't sought contact with him either. And that was just as well.

"Okay, enough of this," he said to himself and dragged himself out of bed. He knew he wouldn't sleep again. What he wanted to do might not have made much sense, but the thought had been swirling in his head for several days now.

The dream, from which he woke up drenched in sweat, only confirmed his belief that he had to revisit the town where Jeremy had disappeared. Only this time, he wouldn't go there to find his friend or find a clue that would help him find him, only to finally be convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that his friend had died there under very strange circumstances. He wanted to get to know them and thus begin to come to terms with the painful realization that he would never see his friend again. If he didn't go there again, he would go mad. He was certain of it. Something drew him to Dremois, and he felt he had to go. Since Jeremi's disappearance, he had been unable to find a place to live. He had taken overdue leave from work and retreated to his home, wanting to cut himself off from the outside world and overcome the chaos that had settled in his head. He didn't try to find solace in alcohol, because he was usually teetotal, and besides, that would be simply pathetic. The effect this could have had was only to add to the chaos in his head, in the form of a never-ending hangover. And he wanted to think clearly, though even then he couldn't manage to pick up and arrange the pieces of the chaotic puzzle of images in his head.

Now, however, he had made a decision from which there was no turning back. He didn't want to change it, anyway. He would return to Dremois. He had to do it. Derek got up, made his bed, and went to the bathroom. And the whole time, the image of the nightmare that had caused his unexpected awakening and simultaneously helped him decide to return to the place that had turned out to be Jeremy's last, but by no means joyful, haven, was fresh in his mind. As he shaved, avoiding looking into his own eyes, he tried to recreate that strange dream frame by frame. He knew it was practically impossible, but he had a strange feeling that he might still be able to dredge something up from the recesses of his mind. Those few dreamlike images of him sitting in a folding chair by the slowly darkening surface of a lake waiting to welcome the night were incredibly clear. And he felt that something else was hidden behind these fragments he was now replaying so freshly. He felt he could recall all the images of that brief nightmare that had haunted him. It was a very strange feeling. Yet he was convinced that he absolutely had to understand the dream in its entirety. And he had no doubt he would succeed today.

Even though it's incredibly difficult to remember what we dreamed after waking up. Deciphering the entire contents of a dream is practically impossible. Much less rediscover the nightmare that haunted us. After all, we want to forget it as soon as we wake up and try to automatically erase those negative images from our consciousness. In this particular case, however, Derek, for some reason, felt he would revisit his nightmare more thoroughly than he would have liked.

The brief glint in his eyes, which he noticed as he dried his face with a towel and finally looked at his reflection in the mirror, sent a strange shiver through him and assured him that he would be able to face that night's nightmare again. But that wasn't the most important thing to him at the moment. Now he wanted to drink his coffee as quickly as possible and set off for the place that would give him the final answer to the question of what had happened to his friend, whose loss he would never come to terms with. That, too, was certain to him.

And so, around 9 a.m., he passed a sign with the town's name, now slightly faded. He was entering Dremois.

He'd planned to stop at a restaurant for a bite to eat first. When he'd been preparing to leave, he'd had absolutely no appetite. But now he needed something to eat, lest his stomach growl disturb his thoughts. And he still had plenty of them. Every time one disappeared, a school of others appeared. He'd been asking himself one question the entire way: how could Jeremy have ventured to such a place to fish? Leaving aside the fact that he'd been an avid fisherman for many years. Derek didn't share his passion; he himself didn't like fish dishes, nor did he understand the pleasures of catching them. He'd never gone with Jeremy when he went somewhere interesting to pursue his fishing hobby. Perhaps if, on some whim, he'd come with him a month and a half ago, this whole cruelly mysterious disappearance wouldn't have happened. He'd probably never forgive himself for that either. It was also strange that he couldn't recall the entire incident involving Jeremy's arrival here. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing that day, when his friend had set off to the local lake in search of the "big fish." Derek attributed it all to the pain he'd carried since losing his friend. A pain that had apparently blocked him from accessing certain less important facts and caused other, darker thoughts to overflow. The throng of them stayed with him constantly, becoming his constant companion.

Derek finally pulled into the parking lot of the "Bar Pod Swietym Coyote" (Fatty Coyote Bar). The name wasn't very appealing, but he didn't have much choice. In this town, it was the only decent-looking bar. At least the plaster wasn't peeling off, like the three others he'd passed while driving through small Dremois. He parked and discovered he wasn't the only one who'd chosen this particular spot for breakfast. The parking lot was full. He managed to snag the last spot. Apparently, locals and tourists, as he spotted several license plates from other towns, also preferred eateries that boasted a solid reputation for not yet peeling plaster. Derek, however, stopped dwelling on it. He had far more important matters to attend to here than debating the superiority of "The Coyote's Diner" over "Sam's Inn" or "Mommy's Diner."

He went in, ordered coffee and scrambled eggs and bacon, and scanned the other customers. Most of them were ordinary-looking people, the kind you don't usually notice on the street. He also spotted a few people in designer clothes, who must have been passing through Dremois. After his first visit, he realized that the residents lived very modestly and dressed accordingly. While few people were willing to exchange even a few words with him, his impression of the town was formed from his own observations. And if something hadn't drawn him back, he would never have returned. There are those provincial towns that fill you with a strange, primal fear. They seem to have nothing alarming about them, the inhabitants seem quite normal, yet visitors never spend more time there than the time needed to eat a meal or drink a coffee. Such places exist, of that Derek had no doubt. And Dremois was one of those towns you wanted to give a wide berth to, subconsciously sensing they held some unpleasant secrets. Thinking about it, he couldn't understand why Jeremy had come here to fish. He was an avid fisherman, but Derek never would have thought his friend would choose such a gray and dreary town as his destination.

He ate his scrambled eggs, paid, and left, not wanting to stay inside any longer and stare at the faces of the other guests. He needed solitude. He'd had plenty of it for a while now, but another decision he'd made concerned his interactions with the locals. He didn't want to ask anyone anymore questions or hear doors slam in his face. If he couldn't solve the mystery of Jeremy's disappearance on his own, so be it. He'd have to accept that. But this time, he wasn't going to ask anyone for answers to questions he didn't even want to ask. Besides, he didn't intend to stay here longer than a day. This was his third and final resolution. The first was to return to Dremois, the second was to avoid speaking with the locals, and the third was to stay no longer than a day. He got back into the car, started the engine, and headed for the lake, which was likely the last place his friend would ever see.

He drove, wondering what he should do to uncover the mystery of Jeremy's disappearance. He passed modest, mostly dilapidated houses, and no plan of action crystallized in his mind to follow as he searched once again the place where Jem's belongings, as he sometimes called him, had been found. Jem, however, sometimes called him "Der," but only when he was angry with him, during the few times they had a disagreement. Derek disliked that nickname. It wasn't even that his friend said it angrily. It simply wouldn't sit well with him, even if said jokingly and with affection. The thought briefly distracted Derek from the difficult situation he faced. But as soon as he turned right and entered the small, leafy parking lot near the "Black Lady," his thoughts turned back to his destination: finding the truth.

He got out, as he had to walk the rest of the way. He headed toward the path that would lead him to the lake. He had taken this route on his first visit to this town. This time, he hoped he would be forced to walk it for the last time. The path was a little more overgrown, but otherwise, nothing had changed. He remembered the route to the lake very well, surprisingly. And he suspected he would reach it even after dark. He didn't know where this conviction had come from, but he felt deep within that it was true. Derek wasn't surprised by another strange thought. It didn't stir up any disturbing thoughts. His mind had been full of strange things for a long time. One less, one more wouldn't make a difference. It took him half an hour to reach his destination. He wasn't in a hurry. He walked calmly and looked around, observing everything carefully, as if searching for clues in the surrounding nature. As if it would tell him what to do, how to proceed to find the answer and solve the mystery of his friend's disappearance. It was still early in the morning, and the water in the lake was clear. The sight was quite soothing. Derek decided, however, that the nickname "Black Lady" perfectly captured the mysteriousness of the place he was currently in. Not only the lake itself, but the entire area surrounding it. He glanced around, for a moment thinking he wouldn't remember exactly where Jeremy's belongings had been found. After a moment, however, spotting a distinctively crooked tree that had stuck in his memory from the last time, he breathed a sigh of relief and headed in that direction.

He stopped about two meters from the twisted branch of the tree, which was serving as his reference point at that moment, and then he heard a voice behind him.

"Hello again," said the figure behind him. Second resolutions gone, Derek thought, turning on his heel to see a young, well-built man, no older than thirty.

"Who are you, following me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Derek practically shouted the words.

"What do you mean, you don't recognize me? Don't you remember who told the police they saw a man fishing right here on May 14, 2005? And you don't remember how much you paid me to give such a statement?

" "Enough..." Derek interrupted the man. "I don't know who you are, man, or what's going on in your head, but I don't know you. This is the first time I've seen you in my life. You have one minute to leave here because...