prequel to reprise smörgås family drama (more shifting props behind the scenes)

It is when I see one of the guys from the furniture truck carrying a deer skull with antlers that I run over,
“no, wait— please no animal carcasses,” I tell him

The guy looks at me and seems to see right through me,
“I just bring the paid inventory. It’s supposed to be dropped off. If you want to return it you have to arrange a bill of lading—“

“Can you just take it back to the truck?” I ask him and mumble, “I mean, it’s already dead. I can’t imagine why it’s considered inventory—or maybe we can bury it,” I feel my skin crawl looking at it and shudder, “please, can you just bring it back to the truck?”

But then it occurs to me because of how he looks at me that he thinks I’m just some brat

so instead I look for Jörn and wave at him. I see him talking to one of the other guys about how they should go around the back for something they’re bringing in because there’s a wider sliding door

“What’s wrong?” he comes over

“I can’t have any inventory left on the truck,” the guy tells him

“A dead skull?” I look at Jörn

He shakes his head at me and makes a frustrated hand gesture at me,
“I realize this stuff is neither of our tastes but what am I supposed to tell Lisa? She’s contracted to design the interior and Lorenzo is taking the photos....!” he seems frustrated I realize

“Ok but— no animal carcasses,” I say anyway

“Oh you saw the bear rug?” he asks me

“Oh my God!” I say in horror

“I guess not,” he mumbles and then tries to compromise with me. “What is your problem about it? Is it that they are animals?”

“Dead!”

He sighs heavily,
“what about your one thousand vintage Coach handbags you have everywhere?”

“Well, they’re vintage,” I say and back away from the dead animal head pointing at it, “that thing had a brain in it....”

“And what about your handbags?”

“Well, they’re vintage. They’ve already been dead for over twenty five years —I’m honoring their memory so —it’s ....different! plus they do not look at me—like, look at that thing, it has eye sockets, wouldn’t that give you nightmares?” I wave at the skull, and start gagging and then ask him, “what did you do with the bear?”

“I didn’t do anything with the bear! It’s somewhere in there!” he waves at the house

I look at the house and suddenly don’t want to go in there

“You mean it’s in there now?” I look at him. “Why is she putting dead animals everywhere? Does it have a head?”

Jörn chooses not to answer

He says,
“I’ll tell the guy to take the skull and bear somewhere, all right, how’s that? Anyway, I’ve had enough of this, I’m going for a run— “

“You’re going running? Now?!” I ask him watching things move across the lawn, “did she leave her tablet so we can figure out what to do with everything? I mean, are they just supposed to dump the stuff anywhere? Because that looks like what they’re doing!”

I just realize he is serious about running as ....he’s wearing his running clothes ....!

“Why are you so angry?” I ask him

He stares at the trucks and the furniture and the trees being dragged and says,
“Lisa....”


I look at all the stuff everywhere too and then at him

But he has this expression as if he has reached his limit

I don’t understand .... at first

only you can set your watch to his madness ....

as well, I realize it is not on his morning’s chosen plan A agenda, so now by default it seems it is mine

I watch him go over to the guy to discuss about the skull and carcass though before he takes off in a mad sprint across the front lawn

I watch him disappear ....

great....  then I go wedge inside through the door where there is a headboard still stuck in it....

the downside, I guess, to designing with a tablet

I look around now at what was once the huge main room. It was a huge open space ....before the truck arrived.

I see his beloved piano overshadowed in the middle of it all looking like an alien in an alien world. Poor thing. Only I really mean Jörn. It makes me go over to it as the poor thing looks like it needs a hug and ....then I find I touch the keys

then turn around to look at all the furniture everywhere. Rather daunting. Like some warehouse of crammed and oversized merchandise.

And consider.... In one of my careers I was a retail merchandiser so ....I find all this is like déjàvu and start tearing off the cardboard to see what things are

and start shoving things across the floor

 ....and force the headboard out the front door

Soon after this, however, I lose my patients with Bob, the deer-skull ‘inventory’ guy from before —who I thought was not exactly nice and I see him carelessly toss a box but I hear it land with some kind of telling clamor and crash that does not sound altogether whole

he sees that I see this. So I decide to press the advantage and go over to the box that I realize has a lamp in it which he just tossed and so I shake it. It makes the very telling sound of shattered glass


and say,
“what about broken inventory?”

“Shit....” he whispers

“How ‘bout this..... I won’t say a word about this if .... you do me a little favor?”

“Okayyyy—what?”

“I just need you to get your buddies to come over here and—uhm...help me move a few things around ....or I can just call Lisa....?”

(More décàvu from my manager years)

After a little over an hour I see that it isn’t so bad without the dead zoo characters

 I realize Lisa has some kind of theme going on. It is all mostly neutral tones of gray, beige and natural woods and fibers and all mostly large pieces and by scale it should all somehow work or

maybe could —I mean

the wide interiors ....

except for a few misjudgments about the placements of light switches and electrical outlets which must not appear on her tablet, so there are some logistic problems, especially about opening some doors in the bedrooms, or closing them—depending on the choice


And I consider that maybe sawing some of the furniture would help to fit them better but there does not seem to be a saw anywhere around

and so just climb over the back of the loveseat to get out the doorway

It is when the guys and the trucks leave that I truly begin to worry

But it gets more worrisome when Jörn calls me from his jog

He says, what sounds like,
“they’re coming....!”

And the call gets dropped. Mobile phones don’t seem to work very well in the mountains.

I try to call him back and by third try I hear through the mountain static,
“they will be here in an hour!”

I have no idea who he means

And the call gets dropped. I call again.

“Who?” I ask

“They’ve decided to surprise us and come a few days early,” I hear his dry, crisp voice cut through the line and the sound of his breathing as he jogs

So it sinks in that he means his family

“Oh no....” I look around at the mess

Jörn says,
“so—can you find something to make for dinner?”

“Dinner? We don’t have anything, remember we were going to go get things tomorrow?” I start to look in the cabinets walking between odd angles of furniture to get to the kitchen area and find I am right as there’s nothing besides angel hair pasta

“They’re bringing wine and fika stuff—what about that crate of tomatoes the neighbors left?”

“When did you say they would be here?” I ask him

“Around four....” more static

“That’s like ..... soon! Where are you?”

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I promise!” he says and the call gets dropped