Aaronson Arielle - Listening for Jupiter

Were all going to die . Thats what crossed my mind while the car was idling. I thought: all these peopleEarths entire population, me, them, everybodywere all going to die at some point. The end is the cornerstone of our very existence. Its clich, of course, but it caught me off guard and kind of knocked the wind out of me. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. I thought: if I open my eyes and everything is still there, if nothings changed, it means I wont die today. I opened them.

Oh, get out of the way, you twit! Bloody hell! Cant you just stay home if youre afraid of a little snow, arsehole?

The taxi driver was getting impatient. But the traffic didnt bother me. Neither did the cold.

OK, I should be honest: the snowstorm worried me a bit. A tiny little bit. Id started to believe that maybe it was as bad as the media claimed when the plane had to circle Heathrow for more than two hours before the pilot got permission to land. But I wasnt going to complain about the delay; I didnt feel like preparing the London pitch, or the one for the Bilbao convention the following week. I wanted to let these extraordinary circumstances, these historic snowfalls pin me down. I would hide myself amid the crowd and make London my own haven of idleness. But worry had nevertheless crept up on me.

Antony had left me a message a few hours earlier. He wouldnt meet me at the hotel until the next day, because hed had to sleep in Lisbon; no planes had been allowed to take off and the airport had just closed. He would take the train to Paris, if all went well, and then a coach on to London.

The company had rented us two rooms at the Hilton across from Hyde Park with a partial view of the garden. The Royal College of Physicians conference would be held there. I had to meet with a group of cardiologists on Tuesday to present a new calcium blocker for patients with Raynauds syndrome, a product that was less harmful to the liver than current drugs, to be prescribed to elderly patients suffering from hepatic failure. The thought was weighing on me, and I just wanted to sink into a chair facing the window and watch the snow fall onto the trees lining the pond while drinking a scalding cup of tea. I was already fed up with calcium blockers, even though Id only been presenting the product for a few months. Before that, it was a new type of non-drowsy antianxiety medication. Before that, amoxicillin for viral lung diseases in children.

The taxi driver honked. We were at a complete standstill. The car in front of us had been abandoned, its doors wide open.

How long before we reach the hotel? I asked.

Usually less than two minutes by cab. But the twit here left his car in the middle of the road.

I handed him a 50 note and got out of the car, asking him to bring my bags to the hotel as soon as possible. I closed the door behind me. I wanted to walk the rest of the way. Id get to the hotel sooner and Id be able to enjoy that partial view of the garden.

At least twenty centimetres of snow covered the pavement. I wasnt wearing boots; cold water soaked through my shoes, pants and wool coat. I couldnt see where I was going through the strong wind. On the right, I passed the entrance to Notting Hill Gate Tube station, then the intersection of Kensington Church Street.

Were all going to die, I kept thinking. All this snow must be some sort of sign.

My phone rang.

Xavier?

It was Antony. There was static on the line, probably because of the storm.

Yes.

I ended up taking a train to Paris. Ill get to London tomorrow, in time for the pitch. Et toi?

Im OK. Ill be at the hotel in a few minutes. Ill let them know youve been held up.

Pas besoin, I already called them. See you tomorrow, then.

He hung up right away. My forehead was numb from the wind and my clothes were soaked and frozen.

Sir, please. Do you know if the Hilton hotel is in this neighbourhood?

The man Id just stopped raised his head to look at me.

Its just around the corner, mate.

He pointed to the next intersection, barely visible through the blizzard. A two-minute walk, at most. I didnt notice, but Notting Hill Gate had become Bayswater Road. I started to run, stumbling at every step.

Snow clung to the hotels brick faade, which had turned white like everything else: buildings, trees, road signs. A doorman let me in and I collapsed against the reception desk, out of breath.

Hi. I have a room here. My name is Xavier Adam.

I turned on the TV after stripping off my wet clothes. I hadnt seen Annie Hall in forever, even though I always say its my favourite movie. I called room service and asked them to bring me tea and gummy bears. I dont know who I think I am; I like to act like they do in the movies. Plus, the companys paying.

I didnt take my eyes off the movie until it was over; I read all of the closing credits, or almost. Then I turned off the TV. It was late, I hadnt eatenother than the gummy bearsand I didnt feel like going out. I called room service again and asked them to bring me a meal. I slipped into the robe patterned with the hotel colours, opened the window to let in some air and lay down on the rug, between the bed and the TV. There was a knock at the door.

The attendant came in with a tray on a small cart, just like in the movies. I motioned to the nightstand. Thanks.

She left soundlessly and I didnt get up until the door was completely shut. I wanted to seem as disagreeable, as irritating as possible. I thought: Ill take a midnight dip, then Ill ask them to bring a bottle of scotch up to my room. Even though I dont really like scotch. Ill be like Bill Murray in Lost in Translation.

I lifted the cover off the dish. Theyd brought me a stew, brown mush that smelled of boiled beef, along with a bread roll. I ate on the bed, shivering. Then I got up, closed the window and ran a scalding-hot bath. But I changed my mind right away and drained the tub before so much as dipping a toe in.

I went swimming. And afterwards I asked for a bottle of scotch to be brought to my room.

The storm didnt let up during the night. It got even worse. Fuck the snow, I thought. I threw on some jeans over my pyjamas, along with two T-shirts, a wool sweater and my coat, and went down to the lobby. I bought a giant fur hat, a huge scarf and two pairs of gloves at a store a few steps from the hotel. I felt like walking, visiting Hyde Park, taking some time for myself outside of work. It was pretty good timing; Antony hadnt arrived yet and Id left my phone in the room.

I walked up and down the paths until I was breathless with hunger. Then I let myself fall backwards into the snow and decided to freeze to death. I knew Id only have to take a few steps in the right direction to get back to the hotel, but I was in the mood for a little tragedy. Unfortunately, a passerby saw me collapse and came straight over to help. Let me die in peace, I wanted to tell him, but my chin was completely frozen, along with my lower lip. My throat was dry, despite all the snow Id swallowed, and I was too short of breath to say a word. I pointed to the hotel in the distance, behind the veil of white powder, and the man put his arm around my shoulders to help me walk over.

Bless your soul, I told him when he left me in the lobby.