Driving back to ….the dungeon?/Electra’s dictionary noir

I suppose it is the need for “normalcy”, after a great shock ….because I do not question things; I do not even for a moment go there at all even as the frozen snowy scenery’s alarming and desolate beauty should be enough to sober me out of this catatonic state of ….disbelief 

You try to make it normal —or you try to fit your head into how far off the bend this ….all goes 

But then it’s not real. Is it? I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming this. This cannot possibly be ….

be why …. all those strange feelings from the moment….we first met

I literally slap myself. Wake up.

I take my hand and slap the side of my face.

“Duva?”

Jörn is driving. Of course he’s driving. This is all normal, see? We do this all the time…. except when we don’t…. We have those lapses. Lapses where I’ve had enough of his spy games and shut the portcullis….

       And I must think because I’ve missed something ….was it perhaps during our lapses—do they hibernate—? —or have intergalactic meetings to determine the fate of Earth? …. at this point any wild idea I am willing to put on the table to examine…. what things has he been he up to that I have dismissed ….? I mean—clearly I have been missing so much ….Gerald?

“Duva?” Jörn touches my arm…. I get the strangest—strangest ….what is it? It goes like a charge right down to my fingertips. I even watch my index finger jump on its own. I always ….put it up to his effect on me, you know, the way he has this way to just melt my knees as soon as he is near. I’ve tried to shrug it off, I don’t like to admit it; but he has the strangest effect on me and even as we may just say that it is sexual; it would be doing the effect an injustice not to include that the sexual trigger is caused by the other things that ….he does to me. 

I turn my face to the frozen mountains and pull my arm close to me 

No….because it is more now that I realize —he knows what he does. But worse; what he uses. 

Only….these are things I must see

I must integrate Elan’s ….i must integrate my lost memories from the life when I was Elan ….because I still carry ….what we lost and—I know that within all of that loss, heartbreak and pain, I suppose there was anger at him; why did he leave me there; why didn’t he get there in time; why did he let me down….and worse even;was I not enough?—for him to make it in time ….but these are not my thoughts—these are what I recognize as hers—but that I have thrown upon lovers in my own current life, like a self-fulfilling prophesy, all through my life, looking for people who will let me down; it has repeated, I see now looking back at my past; like being in a subconscious loop of self punishment for ….trusting him—a killer; a pirate

I turn to the mountains and look as the chaos of speed smooths the horizon into an impressionist landscape

I take out my phone. I look at my messages. 

I say,

“Gerald has not answered any of my texts,” and now I look at Jörn’s profile. There—I see the nostrils flare ….

He knows I watch him, but he drives in silence now. But as he clenches his jaw, there it is! The glowing blue is illuminated by the cast of the sunlight through clouds, reflected on stark white mountain peaks all around —it glows as if connected by its light source energy 

“When did you start to know?” Jörn asks now

I say, turning back to the road in front of us as he drives,

“it was not a sudden knowing. It was more that I started to realize how much energy I had to put into trying to find reasonable explanations for —too many weird things —that made all the other odd things seem like child’s play once the idea that those odd things allows everyone in this ….to hide the bigger more seriously fucked up thing.”

Jörn says to me….

 he says….

Electra’s dictionary Noir/more unanswered questions and vampire stares

 

Maybe I listened to the wind howling, maybe I just watched the walls. Watched for the shadows on the wall. And maybe I thought about everything. Meeting Jörn in the lobby that very first day; meetings with Gerald ….Gerald ….from my days at the bookstore on Long Island ….it made me go over these details with nagging questions in my head. Did Gerald know Jörn before me? Was his being at the bookstore to meet me part of Jörn’s master plan? But then what of ….Willem??? Are they not thick as thieves? How would it even be possible to hide from Willem….

But this is madness! 

At this point I find myself aware I’ve been in the room upstairs and Jörn built a fire in this fireplace. It is an old bed and the linens smell like an old haunted house. Which only contributes more to this sense of ….

And now I realize what it was—what the feeling was as I pulled up and at first felt excited to be here —that is until I stepped inside. Even as it had hung in the air outside, all around the house was a mood that can best be described as a graveyard. Now I understand that ….it came from the dreams —Elan’s ….memories ….and something here felt like ….the hut ….of how it became her grave and ….now I feel it again 

Did I fall asleep in here? On the bed? I get up off it and brush off my clothes, feeling webs all over me; it freaks me out. I start shaking out my hair and scratching my skin because now it feels I am being eaten alive by a million ants crawling all over me.

“Duva!” it us Jörn in the dark grabbing hold of me 

I don’t know why but just his voice in the darkness pulls me back from the webs 

“I don’t like this room!” I say

He suddenly lifts me and takes me from the room, as swift as lightning, and then we are downstairs again. He brings me over to a sofa that is still covered in storage cloth, like the rest of the living room; he sits down, still holding me in his long arms and drapes his long legs down the length of the sofa, pulling me to wedge with my back against him, my legs in a limb-lock between his. He holds me there.

For awhile we just listen to the wind howl. I think hours went by just like that. No words. I cannot say where my mind went. I think I just stared at nothing. Watched the darkness outside the window ….and looked for the shadows like bats

it was his heartbeat. I realized when it seemed as though morning began to light the room in a faded gray glow—it was his heartbeat ….snd now, again with my back up against him, lulled by the offbeat metronome …. it is a kind of extra power, like an allure I just never was aware of—was this all my own delusion to or did he always in past hide it well? Until now.I thought of that blue glow beneath his skin I’d never noticed before ….why did I notice it now? Was it always there and I never saw it or, was this something new or 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says now

“You mean, you can’t read my mind?” I ask him

“It doesn’t work like that,” he sighs with just the smallest hint of frustration 

“What am I thinking?” and finally, now, I do look at him. I have to turn myself around in order to, but I need to see his face. His eyes. His pulse. 

But my intention to confront Jörn, straight in the eye —got eclipsed by his kryptonite. Oh those vampire eyes, like the icy chill of the Scandinavian Sea, powerful enough to capsize your very life ….

“What about Gerald?” is the only reasonable question I can start with

“You and Gerald should talk ….” he sighs heavily glancing away

“Is that an answer?” I ask this as I pull his jaw to look at me. 

He looks

And now this time I keep my head and stare into them,

“Willem?”

He is the master of the staredown. We stay locked like that quite awhile. 

Perhaps I read his mind. Perhaps I just know him better than either of us know ….

because I find some answers in his stare 

but know these aren’t even the important questions ….are they?

Eventually he lets out a long heavy sigh and he says,

“it’ll likely be ok to drive soon so, we can talk on the drive back.”

“The drive back?” I ask. Even as I should be indignant about his assuming I’d just automatically go with him, the urgent need to leave here makes me forget that detail at that moment but I say, “I drove here—the rental, remember?”

“Yes, I assumed we’d take that” he starts to say

As I ask at the same time,

“drive back where? The city?”

“—didn’t drive out here—I was dropped off; or I should say, I jumped off.”

But …. 

He makes a hand gesture; his index finger pointing up, he twirls it around: helicopter 

And I recall now….his image from the video monitors in the cage back in the dungeons at the Adirondak property 

Electra’s dictionary Noir/the man with the vampire eyes, left in suspense

“Do you have any idea how long I have searched for you?”

He says this to me!

It was unfair. He should not push me so….

I do think I actually passed out. Even as I think I have always known…surly….?but it is worse as when he says it as it is more than I am able to take all at once….the pounding in my head of a million terrifying questions….things I really fear to know and maybe ….fear 

And still the storm rages outside. Only now do I realize there is some light from the lamps,

“The generator,”he says, as though he can read my mind

This thought makes me paranoid. Only I am now thinking of, of all people—Elsa! And I blurt out, as if she is somehow some moral compass,

“Your mother?” I ask him….and stare into his vampire eyes that glow that weird lunar blue, like…his pulse….that only lately I can see….like a jellyfish or a moonstone, it glows —blue under his skin with a kind of ticking, like a clock, that is his heartbeat; it beats in double time, though, like a metronome; slightly out of synch ….it is hypnotic…and as lovely as ….his —opus, and like a kind of otherworld sense, it has a lovely poetry ….that drugs my head

It is as if he holds me there ….suspended

He sucks my ….thoughts

He stares into me….but I don’t find I care to resist him; why….have I wasted so much time?—but quick as that thought comes, it goes away….I am waiting for his answer

“You don’t remember her?”he asks me staring into my eyes and ….as I fall within them, we are there again through time— just one glimpse!

I see her. Them. All of them….

I shake him off and stare at him,

“That was —her? But….is not how I dreamed it…all of you….? But….”

I look at him,

“… I don’t understand….Vargie….?”with a sickness like copper in my mouth the words fall out on their own with muscles controlled by some other force which knows the vowels better than me; they say them through my vocal chords; yet I feel the weight of their measure within my soul, “Jag kommer tillbaka före midnattssolen …” and like a stopper thus pulled from my very life force, I feel myself start to faint as though that very day is again upon us where I lay in his arms as we are now….it is too much to have to know it all again and wail this out to him, “…too late….”and it starts to go dark

But there is something that holds me there. Something that keeps me. Suspends me….awhile

Electra’s dictionary Noir/starting to see the light of the vampire eyes

 

And…. so it is a long while that I stand by the window and watch the storm. A very long while. I hardly notice what I see. I do not even think I was aware of where I was or where my mind was. It is something like just feeling aware that …. You observe. But not as much comprehensive of any relation of how what you observe connects to anything. There is the sense that, while I know Jörn is somewhat near, it seems, not of little consequence, but— not threatening the inner crypt at the moment; I don’t question this, you see, because I am far away…far away from myself—or rather ….far from the world

I do not hear Jörn come back in from outside, even as I do; I do not register it; I do not register when he brings in the logs; when he goes to the fireplace to lay them; I do not register the sounds of the scraping nor the eventual crackling….of the fire

I do not….because I am not there. But we are the same. This moment I have already known….the fire….the heat….the night I first came to the h—

I get a strange head rush. What was I just thinking? I start to fall backwards from feeling lightheaded but he stops me from hitting the floor

If I close my eyes…. I think this, you see? I think, no,  if I keep my eyes closed like this now, shut them tight…then out there is not the Catskills with a raging winter storm; though indeed a storm, but another one and with it a sea as bitter cold as what blows outside but we are not here; we are not now….we are not here…and how is it possible —hide?from…. How? It is complete insanity to think that he’s kept this for so many life times….

Life times….but why should it affect me as though my very blood feels drained of me even as it also quickens me like an electric charge having it around me….?

Gerald…. He must know …he must know more than he has ever said, there is no other way to explain unless—well, maybe he doesn’t— maybe his seeing is not able to process things of such a nature

Such a nature; what am I saying—thinking—do I really believe that Jörn….could be the actual same man—not reincarnated but—the same physical being as—the one from the dream of the boat—the dream which has haunted me most of my life that …. Only after years of searching for answers and searches into  through exploring documentations of spiritual experiences recounted by individuals who have known memories from other life times, backed up by details these individuals could not have known without research of ancient history have I come to accept certain things 

Certain things…. Which now cause me to freeze suspended….and questioning my sanity

Obtuse? Have I been blind or just ….purposely deluding myself? 

“Duva?”he says

But it is as though even his prompting tone of a question comes from down a very long hallway, like a hallway that echoes and all sets of normal are thrown in a ricochet off the warping walls ….like wormholes of time it is this that thought that causes me to fall back against him because I am spinning as though in a chasm of being overwhelmed of both thoughts and emotions I do not fully understand 

Dreams Everlasting part 2/Electra’s dictionary Noir

 

What was it he just said….? I find I am stuck on other thoughts….but his words repeat in echo in my mind. I keep thinking about ….the time when first I ever saw him

My mind is stuck there. Why am I focused on ….the bats?

Because it was the first weird sense that I got. I remember now I thought of Bella Lugosi. That was the sense; the very first impression—how strange I suddenly can remember every detail of this….but I have not thought of this for so long

What did he just say?

….obtuse

“We’re not going anywhere,” he says now after having once again walked to the window and peered into the darkness, which now glows in that strange light of light through fog. Is it the moon?

Again, my mind is in some weird loop. I feel I am not here nor—am I there…no I am thinking now of Gerald— so many odd little things. I get a chill and shudder.

I feel something heavy thrown over me. I look up at him. By the scent of it, I know what it is

It is a hide

Instantly I am warmed by it. But it plays tricks with my head. I should be thinking about all these paradoxes…. Gerald… 

Jörn, has been watching me. I now look up at him—but i am not seeing him as…. I am not seeing him in the present now; it is something else….it is something I know and so very well; I have known it in dreams in ….both present and —past….

“You can be,” he says again and paces back over to me….he looks down at me and reaches to touch me

It is as if it all happens in slow mo…. Overlapped… the fire pit….the welding pot…I see this instead ….but I am as if hypnotized to his vampire eyes, they glow like kryptonite; they glow like the blue of a moon

It is as if time is suspended. I came to the Catskills to get away; to think; to clear my head. But the building—the renovated country home of my late biological father’s ….feels like a tomb; it is so empty and void of anything living or lifelike. 

Pulling up to the property had felt thrilling. At first— but, to be honest, I felt like ….I had exposed my deepest place of weakness; what it was/is I am unable to put into words. Just a sense that there was something very signific a trigger point, I suddenly feel; like a reminder to something else

What did he just say?

“Oh, the winter storm….” 

Only, it feels so insignificant to the storm brewing within. I move myself from where I have been frozen for long moments of feeling such a strange sense. I walk the longest way around the room before I reach him by the window again; the hide around my shoulders…. But i just look at him from the corner of my eye and then walk the length of the room in a kind of circle back to the place I had been standing. Only now do I really comprehend that I stand by the mantle of the fireplace

He glances over at me,

“There’s dry wood in the shed, I noticed before—the power lines might be damaged, that’s why there is no heat or electric,” he says this as he walks towards me slowly, all the while he is focused on my eyes. When he reaches me, he is just inches away, his eyes intent upon mine as his bore into me like kryptonite; he says,

“I’ll go get some logs, but he stays there a moment before he says, “to build a fire….”

Maybe it was the words. Maybe it was the sense. But i knew we were not really there—not really….and the sick sense I needed to know what the shroud was hiding which so long I have been hiding under….

I force mayself away from him. I walk to the window. It is this knowing that draws me to look ….at the hide in the glow of the light….the scent fills my head but it is like a wrench in my soul that I feel it as I see the dark old stain of old faded blood that colors the hide a ghostly hue of alizarin crimson

Electra’s dictionary noir/ more bats in the belfry

I find myself feeling a moment of dèjá vu. My head feels so fogged that I feel the need to shake my head as if to clear it. And bang my head on the wall I'm pinned to as the motion throws me with more force than I had meant to 

It doesn’t hurt. It more wakes me up, on a level 

Jörn drops his grip on me and walks back to the window to peer out; his long legs move like a predator seeking his target and ….that thought makes me think about memories of Elan; Elan’s memories that is 

I feel an ice cold chill, as if I put my hand in ice water ….i think of the boat now when I think of water ….cold ….so cold 

I look over at Jörn who seems bored now with the view into the darkness of night. He turns to watch me thoughtfully crossing his arms across his chest. He wears his Swedish trench coat pushed up his long forearms and I see his muscles flex there. As if he is thinking of crushing something but his eyes are on me 

“What is that word you always like to say about yourself?” and he smiles as he starts to walk towards me thoughtfully 

“I don’t know which one you mean….” I say 

“‘Obtuse’ —that’s the one…. It is interesting ….” he smiles that way 

     ….and I think of him as I remember him from thst night so long ago ….and when the shadows of bats first came to me ….when we first met—first met?

He stops near me and cups my face by my chin as he studies my eyes,

“you can be.”