The Broken Numbers

The Broken Numbers

Bor had been meditating for hours. He didn’t really know how long he had been, but he knew that he was not done. He felt something in the air, something in the way the breezes danced, that somehow forced him to stay. It was as if something was out of place; something important yet unnoticed by most.

That was why he kept on with his meditation; he hoped for a clearer sign of what was wrong, something that evidenced the malfunction he was looking for. That was when Kiri rushed to his side.

-This is not good, kainira. –said Kiri, clearly nervous.- This poem’s metric is out of place, kainira.

-It is not, Kiri. –replied Bor without caring much about Kiri’s words.- You are reading Ionostus’ Eulogy to Mirkos, and you already know that Ionostus was one of the most metric-obsessed poets of his time. –Bor took a deep breath and started to get his mind back into meditation.- You must be measuring wrong.

-But I am not, kainira. –answered Kiri, annoyed by his brother’s words.- You know I’m the best at this things, I know how to it should be and this is not how, kainira.

-Stop saying kainira Kiri, it’s just a poem. –annoyingly answered Bor. Kiri always used that word when something made him uneasy, but he only did it so much when the issue was extremely disturbing.

-It’s not just a poem, kainira. –said Kiri, a little bit angry because of how his brother dismissed his words. - The whole book is wrong, kainira.

That was the straw that broke the camel. Tired of his little brother’s childishness, Bor stopped meditating and tried to get up. Surprisingly, he was unable to do so. He could even lift his legs from the ground; unable to move, he looked at his brother.

-Can’t you get up brother? Kainira… –said Kiri. He sat down onto the grass and got up instantly. - Are you really unable to get up?

-How did you do it? –asked Bor, now even more worried of his condition.

He tried to get up by pushing himself up with his arms, by gaining momentum and suddenly trying to jump and by many other logical ways he thought of. Meanwhile, his brother Kiri was constantly sitting and getting up with ease. Frustrated, Bor asked his little brother how he was doing it.

-I don’t really know. I just do it. –he answered.- I mean, it’s not the first time I get up, and I’ve always done it the same way. –he sat once again and instantly jumped on his feet.- See?

Only then he understood what was truly going on; the whole world had lost its mathematical basis. With no numbers to guide rational actions, chaos was to be expected. Yet the wind kept on blowing the same way than ever, and the grass still bent under the weight of his body; most actions were not rational, even though able to.

When not based in the number doctrine that Bor had imposed on himself, things were able to function as usual. He was still thinking about it when his brother’s words caught his attention.

-I told you that it wasn’t that difficult. –said Kiri with a mocking tone.

He was about to ask his brother what was he talking about, but, even though it was wide open, no words came out of his mouth; he had got up. How had he done it? He didn’t really care, and he didn’t think that he would be able to explain it anyways.

Bor asked his brother to handle him Ionostus’ Eulogy to Mirkos. Once Bor started to read the page that Kiri was talking about, Kiri started to tell him which verses were wrong. But there was no need for that; the mistakes were obvious, you didn’t even need to know about poetry to feel that the whole book sounded weird. When read aloud, the words seemed to step on each other; if each poem had been a castle, this would have been the biggest collapse ever witnessed.

After telling his little brother that he was right concerning the poems’ metric, he decided that they needed to get home and discover what was actually going on; only there he would be able to face the problem directly and solve it. Also, it was the closest place where they could cover from the storm that relentlessly advanced through the mountains towards them.

Minutes later, the brothers had already arrived home. In front of the house’s door, Bor became afraid of what would happen next; he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to open the door.

He failed with his first try, but that was something he expected. He was trying to open the door as he usually did, by grabbing the doorknob and pulling in a way that the strength he applied was optimal for the door’s rotation around the axis placed in the connection between the door and the house. If logic wasn’t working, he’d have to do it the opposite way.

But there were so many. He tried by pushing in the same direction that he had already pulled, by sliding his hand over the door as if he was pushing it downwards, by telling it to open and by punching it right in the middle. But nothing came out of that; not even his fist was hurt.

When he thought that there was no hope, his brother pushed him aside, opened the door by pulling the doorknob and told him to go in.

-You’ll get a cold if you keep on fooling around with the door, brother! –he said as if he had done nothing strange.

And he actually meant it; Bor knew that what Kiri had done was nothing out of place. No miracle, no magic, not a complicated trick; he had done what he had always done. He had gone towards the door, opened it and entered the hallway.

-I’ll make the dinner today, brother. –announced Kiri while taking off his wet jacket and hanging it near the fireplace.

-I’ll lay the table then, Kiri. –replied Bor, doubting if he’d be able to.

-Sure, Bor! –answered his brother, way calmer than how he had been outside.

That was strange. Kiri was not saying kainira anymore; did that mean that he could get back into doing things on his way? Had everything been solved for no reason at all?

Instead of asking his little brother about it, Bor rushed his way into the kitchen and grabbed the yellow tablecloth they had not used in the last nine hundred thirty seven years. Then he ran towards the dining area, shut his eyes closed and threw the tablecloth onto the huge wooden table that they used for dinner when it rained.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the yellow tablecloth stretched over the table, without a single wrinkle ruining its beautiful display of grace. Then, Bot tried to disturb that perfection; he grabbed a hanging corner of the tablecloth and pulled downwards a little bit and then backed away to look at the results of his actions.

Just like he expected, the tablecloth was still perfect. Nothing disturbed its relentless grace that broke through the logic of physics just for the sake of maintaining its perfection. Bor’s logic was unable to force a change in the great scheme of things because of how he was trying to simplify everything into a set of numbers that was obviously malfunctioning.

Bor had been laughing for quite a while when Kiri entered the dining-room.

-Where are the dishes? –asked Kiri.

And then Bor realized; since physics were flawed and numbers were broken, anything physically dependent could be done by sheer will. He thought about it for a short while and realized what was going to happen.

-They are already here, Kiri. –answered Bor.- By the way, you shouldn’t leave the brew still cooking, it’s already on point.

Bor looked at Kiri, expecting to see him surprised when he looked at the table and saw everything ready for dinner. But Kiri’s face showed nothing but guilt.

-Oh, I’m sorry, –said Kiri, looking at the table.- I thought that you were just hacking around.

Kiri went back to the kitchen and grabbed a wooden spoon. He carefully stirred the brew with it and brought a spoonful of it right into its mouth. Without a doubt, he spit it on the floor.

-This isn’t ready yet, Bor! –angrily claimed Kiri.- Don’t lie to me again, you know that these herbs are toxic when not cooked on point!

Surprised with his brother’s answer, Bor went into the kitchen, took the wooden spoon from Kiri’s hands and tried the brew. It was perfect! How could he say that it was not on point!

Only then he realized; it was both ways. In the reality perceived by Bor, the brew was already perfect for eating, while in the part of the world that Kiri cared about the brew still needed some time before being ready to eat.

It was after realizing that that Bor reached a stunning conclusion; he could not eat the brew. If he ate it now he’d have to eat it from the cooking pot, because Kiri was in charge of the kitchen that day; if he ate it later, it would be overcooked, and he didn’t want to face the constipation days that an overcooked heliotrope brew could cause.

-Ugh, you were right. –said Bor to younger brother, rushing towards the sink and gargling several times in a row.- I think I’ll have no dinner tonight, Kiri, I’ll just go to sleep.

Without giving him any time to reply, Bor made his way upstairs and got into his bedroom. He undressed himself and swiftly got into his stripped pajamas. Only then he realized that he had done all those things without thinking about them, in the very same way that Kiri had been acting the whole day. It was that impulsive behavior what was letting them get through the day, avoiding the nuisance that the numerical issue was.

And he kept on with it. He got into bed and slept comfortably all night. When he woke up the next morning, he had completely forgotten about the issue that had troubled him so much the day before. From then on, he never cared much about the little details of life. He knew he would  be fine as long as he knew how to live.