It was the first time I had ever met with the concept of an "exchange student" when the new comer to our class was seated next to me. It was our high school years, and yes, we were high. Being the bench neighbor of the strange fellow, I was considered as lucky. My coolness had increased dramatically in a matter of seconds. My classmates were constantly turning towards us, first staring at the exchange student, and then blinking an eye to me, and I was blinking back with a smile attached.
The boy was busy taking out stuff from his bag, which looked a bit strange to me. It was as if taken out of a sci-fi movie. I thought maybe he was a dreamer like me, but perhaps with more money. To be able to afford this stuff was not easy at all. During the break, we started chatting. His accent was different, as if from another country, and he was like acting, instead of behaving normally. I told myself that this was perhaps normal, since he was a new comer, and that he was trying to be at his best manners while blending in among us.
Ours was a boarding school, which meant that we had all the time on our hands to learn about each other and do all kinds of crazy stuff, like climbing atop the roofs of the school buildings on snowy days and taking pictures of the scene from there, or escaping the school dorm during the night and roaming through the city center half the night. I even remember once when we had taken a very large and thick piece of ice from the pool in front of the school and placed it under the teacher's desk. Just totally crazy and nonsense stuff.
One of those escape nights, as we were wandering around in the city, my friend told me that this was not his first experience as an exchange student. "Wow", I exclaimed. "Where have you been before?"
"I have been to a school that doesn't exist at the moment."
"Why? Is it demolished in a war or something?"
"No. It is demolished by time. It existed a few thousand years ago."
I looked at my friend with incredulous eyes, and blurted "C'mon man"
"I am not kidding. I am serious" he said.
"Oh yeah! And I am the Pharaoh Tutankhamun reincarnate."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"No, I believe you, because you had visited me in my pyramid", and I burst into laughter, which echoed in the empty streets of the downtown. Fortunately there were no cops in the sight.
My friend looked away from me, and avoided any communication. I had broken his heart. I had to make up for it.
"So, where is your original school, then?"
"It is here, but in the year 2150. I am doing my education as an exchange student at schools at different years in time. The first school I had been to was also here, but few thousand years ago, as I said."
Thinking again about what he told me and my observations of him, like his accent, the way he dresses, his attitudes, etc., I thought maybe he was telling the truth. "Ok, I'll buy your story," and I continued:
"Then, tell me what it was like here, back then. Was it a city like this, how were people, their technology?"
"There was a city of course, given that I was attending a school here. But it wasn't as big. Less populated. The city was nested in a forest, but it was growing by cutting the forest. So you couldn't see much green in the city. There was a lot of infrastructure and many buildings out of wood. People made their living by making wooden tools and wooden construction components. These construction components were delicately designed, and transported to the owner of the order on horse carriages. In the city, there were automation systems based on water and wood. It was all natural and also technological. The ruler of the city lived in a palace made of wood in the shape of a steep hill. He not only had administrative but also engineering skills. He was appreciated because of his engineering works, but he was feared and disliked because of the way he treated people."
"Talk about the school. You had friends there, right? Who was your best friend?"
"My best friend was an orphan, like many others."
"Why? What happened to their parents?"
"When I arrived there, it was after the Big Fire Day. That's when they all became orphan."
"Oh, I see. When you have a city made of wood, a fire break out would destroy the city and the people in it. That's sad..."
"No, no, no! That's not what it is. The Big Fire Day was organized by the ruler of the city. He ordered the preparation of the biggest ever fire whose smoke clouds could be seen from 100 km away."
"For what? Celebration?"
"No, for punishment! At the time, there was a religion that had spread among the people. And the ruler was not happy about it. When the believers reached a certain number, he ordered his soldiers to arrest them, although these people had committed no crime. Hundreds of innocent people, men and women, were gathered."
"Your friend's parents were among them, I guess."
"No!"
"No?"
"My friend's father was a soldier gathering those innocent people. They detained them until the completion of the arrangement of the fire. When it was complete, the ruler ordered the soldiers to drive the believers towards the steep edges of the valley housing the fire."
"I wasn't there, but what people tell is that it was a day that you would like that you had never lived, both for the victims and for the survivors. The man-made violence, the heartless actions of the soldiers and the inactivity of the witnesses, cries and screams of the victims... and the satisfaction of the ruler. My friend was among the witnesses, watching not only the gruesome events but also the unforgivable actions of her father. Later that day, at home, my friend told me, she had asked her father why he did this. She was smacked violently, and she found herself on the floor, her nose and mouth filled with the iron taste of blood. Her father stood beside her and shouted: 'There are orders. What can I do? I am just a soldier. This is how I earn our bread.' My friend opened her mouth and took a breath to reply, when she received a kick in her belly from her father: 'I said I am a soldier, I obey orders.' My friend's mother had taken shelter in a corner, watching her daughter's doom after what had happened during the day. The next morning, my friend found both her father and mother dead in their room. Apparently, the father killed the mom, and then himself."
I was bewildered by what I had heard. I wanted not to believe all the story my friend had told me, including his exchange student stuff. After a minute of silence, I wanted to ask again:
"You are not making all this up, are you?"
My friend pushed me away, and ran forward along the street. I followed him shouting "wait up". He didn't. We returned to school dorm separately. I couldn't dare go to his room and apologize during the night.
The next day, the seat next to mine in the class was empty. I inquired about my friend from other fellows, they said they didn't know. I went to the secretary, and asked. They said that he had finished his term at our school, and had departed earlier that morning.
I wish I had asked him if it was still the same school building that he was attending in the year 2150. Because if it was, I could leave a message to him on the walls. But on a second thought, I guessed that he would probably do another time travel to a time between his and mine, and so, my message did not need to wait as long as I thought. That night, I sneaked up to the roof of the dormitory, as we used to do together, and carved a message to the walls there:
"I am just a student. I ask questions. That's how I learn."
