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The stone steps
, still wet from the rain that had fallen all night long, had become slippery, making the long descent to the entrance of the monastery become dangerous.

Although the monk
escorting him seemed to be used to the steep stairway and was going down easily, he instead was suffering to keep his balance going from one step to the next.

The horn of the car waiting on the road rang
again, a sign that the driver was falling into impatience.

When the heavy door finally opened
with its usual screeching, the man standing next to the vehicle approached, took his luggage and greeted him cheerfully.

“
Good morning. For a moment I thought you were not coming out.”

“
The way down is long,” he said apologetically. “What is the plan?”

After having put the luggage in the
trunk of the car, the young driver handed him a thick envelope filled with documents while saying:

“
My instructions are to deliver this package and take you to the bus station. I guess the contents of the envelope will answer your question.”

He r
eceived the package and settled in the front seat next to the man, ready to examine the documents as the car started its way down the mountain.

The majestic landscape that
had greeted him days ago now was covered by a thick fog that did not let see beyond a few yards. The winding road had become even more dangerous as it was wet and covered with pebbles loosened from the mountainside during the night.

Ignoring the risks of the journey, the passenger
hurriedly opened the envelope. He had an urge to satisfy his curiosity.

The bundle of papers
came out at one time to become visible.

The letter serv
ing as a cover listed an inventory of the package’s contents besides giving the directions to his new home, a farm that was now his property as warranted by the certificate also included.

He had been given
a bank account with enough money to set in operation his newly acquired farm. He had also been supplied with the necessary identification documents, as if he had always been part of the population of this part of the globe.

Finally,
there was the information needed to get in contact with the refugee community established in the region where he was about to settle down.

This p
ayment, made in exchange for his services, had been really generous and would put him in a good position to start a new life, as if his past had never existed.

Although owning a property
was in some way a great thing, what he really craved for was to become a part of a community to which he could feel to belong, so that his life could regain some sense.

The teachings of the monk
were still churning in his head, trying to accommodate orderly to become useful. The concepts that at first had seemed clear to him would prove difficult to apply most of the times under the facts of real life. Either way, he had perfectly understood that true spiritual progress could only be based on the interaction with others. He was longing to develop lasting relationships.

T
he bus station getting in sight made him hurriedly put in the envelope the papers he had been reviewing during the trip. The driver got out and went to the trunk to get his luggage. Once in his hands he came back to the front door and put it on the floor; then he turned to his passenger and said:

“
By the way, I almost forgot that I have something else for you.”

“
What is it?” he asked intrigued.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket
and pulled out a small white envelope.

“I did not deliver this message to you,” he
warned him in a complicity tone. “See you soon.”

He
stared at the small envelope for a moment, uselessly trying to guess what it could be, until he finally dared to open it.

Inside was
a handwritten white card reading: “Thanks for the flower. Good luck in your new life.”

His
heart leapt with joy. This he was receiving was the only tangible memory he would keep from his adventure as an intelligence agent, and in addition, remembering the beautiful woman who had sent it would always cause him to feel enraptured.

Now he was in excellent spirits. Smiling, he walked to the counter to buy a ticket to his new home.

The three and a half hour trip ended up in a small town of no more than some 5,000 inhabitants.

It was past two in the afternoon and
he was hungry, so he we went to the small restaurant across the street just facing the door of the station.

Lunch time was over
and the place was empty except for the woman standing behind the bar.

As
he walked through the door he was greeted with a friendly voice.

“
Good afternoon. Sit wherever you like.”

“
The bar is OK,” he answered.

“
What brings you here?”

“
I have acquired a property in this area and I come to take possession,” he answered.

“Great! And where is it
?”

“I don’t know yet.
I was hoping you could help me find it. These are the instructions.”

The woman took the paper that
his customer was giving her to carefully examine it.

“
Do you have a car?” she asked at last.

“
Not yet.”

“
Well, you will need one. This property is a few miles away from the main road. There is no public transportation to get there.”

“
I guess I will have to buy a vehicle at once.”

“
I will give you a recommendation to the only car dealer around here. It will have to be a used model, because to buy a new one you must travel another hour on the bus.”

“A u
sed one will be fine, but first I need to eat.”

The woman h
anded him the menu while saying:

“
The special of the day is the stew. It is very good.”

Then he remembered that despite having spent several weeks in th
is part of the world he had not become familiar with the names of popular dishes. Not wanting to seem like a refugee he chose to take her advice.

“
The stew will be fine.”

She
went behind the kitchen door to return after a minute with the copiously served dish that she put in front of her only customer.

“
How I can get to this address?” he asked, now showing her a piece of paper with instructions for making contact with the refugee community.

She took it in her hand
s as if she had already guessed. Then she asked:

“
Are you a refugee?”

“
Yes,” he replied flatly.

“
I will help you. My husband is a refugee too. He came almost ten years ago. We will take care of you.”

“
Thank you. Are there many of us around here?”

“About one f
ifth of this place’s population, and if we count the families that most of them had started, possibly we are more than half the people around who sympathize with the cause. You will be alright among us.”

“
Glad to hear that. I will appreciate all the help you can give me.”

“
The car dealer is also a refugee. Tell him where you come from. I guess you will get a better deal.”

“
Thanks for the advice. I will.”

An hour later he was closing the deal on his new vehicle with a firm handshake. Indeed, he had been treated kindly by the merchant. Gradually his confidence to be accepted by the community was increasing.

His next stop
would be at a grocery store; then he would go finding his property. He was planning to get there while there still were a few hours of light left, as he had no idea of the condition in which his new home would be.

He drove his new acquisition along the strip until he found a small
mart. He parked in front.

It had been many years since the last time
he had gone shopping. The feeling was strange to him, so it took him over an hour to walk the corridors, meticulously examining each article that would catch his attention. The products offered here and their packaging looked very different from what he was used to see.

His efforts culminated with a cart half full containing what
he was guessing to need. So he headed for the exit.

The evening sky
had covered with dark clouds and was threatening to unleash a storm, so he hurried on to the all-terrain vehicle parked across the street.

He had j
ust started the engine when a heavy downpour along with large hailstones began to fall, bouncing noisily on the car. Now he could not see beyond a few feet, so he was forced to wait until weather conditions improved to hit the trail.

Fortunately
, the sudden shower soon became a mere drizzle that would persist all along his way.

A
s he was not acquainted with the region he had to follow exactly the instructions to locate his property, carefully watching the odometer in the dashboard. This method let him find the deflection from the main road without problems.

The journey from the village to his farm took just under
30 minutes. Still under the rain, he finally came to the gate.

His
first impression turned out to be unpleasant. The rusty metal and the lattice hanging loosely from the hinges let him guess that the property had been uninhabited for a long time. The troubles he had had just to go inside made him realize that he would need a lot of help to put the gate back in good condition.

He d
rove to the house, which was about 200 yards ahead, trying to guess the trail that vegetation had almost completely hidden and was causing the tires to bounce on unpredictable obstacles once and again.

When he finally managed to reach the esplanade in front of the main entrance of the
house he parked in front of the door and got out, ready to inspect the interior although by this time he had already guessed that the place would be uninhabitable.

It was enough to set foot inside
to find that his fears had been well founded. Beginning with the leaky roof and ending with boards of floor that threatened to break at the slightest push, nothing was in a good condition.

The sparse furniture was dirty a
nd shabby, the plumbing would not produce anything but noise, and all kinds of insects and vermin had nested in every corner. The shutters were hanging untidily and a lot of window glasses were missing.

Darkness
prevailed inside as plants had grown after the windows, making it even more unsafe to move along and inviting him to leave at once.

He went out
to tour the building, this time around the outside. His first impression was unchanged at all. Then he stood on the esplanade as far as possible and tried to visualize the house completely repaired.

The possibilities of turning it into a beautiful
place were many. Its architectural elements offered many options. With a little work and some talent it would end up being a beautiful home. The idea of having a construction project ahead made his optimism back.

As the rain had finally
stopped, he decided to use the short time of light still remaining to recognize the grounds of the farm, so he drove to the base of a nearby hill to climb to the top along a winding path. Once on top he looked around while holding in his hands a blueprint of the estate.

The total area was
600 acres. When he was told that it would be a small farm, actually they were comparing it to some of the immense estates around. Whereas in this region high price vegetables were grown, the size of his property could be considered as large based on the potential value of its production.

Fields looked
in a similar condition than the house. It could easily be noticed that the hand of man had done nothing for them in recent years; however, this was an advantage in itself, as the land would be regenerated and ready to produce.

The sun setting behind the horizon reminded him that he was in a place that
will soon become inhospitable, so he happily started his way back to the car walking down the path that had already started to smell like only during summer nights.

The mixture of
scents and the feeling of being challenged were making him feel tremendously alive again; now his mood was bordering on euphoria, urging him to sing out loud, which he did all the way down and still was doing when he got in the car to start his way back.