29 March 2020

Notes to a stranger defined; Electra’s Dictionary & film noir (jm muse chronicles)





isolation seems to clear unnecessary static

and has the ability to show how much gets avoided

how easy it is to hide behind a lot of noise



Jörn snuffs out the candles arranged around the bathtub no longer needed as day breaks through the skylight above us

it is so still here in the middle of the night and early morning that you can hear branches crack when a deer gallops off even through the walls

Only now, I still hear his music in my head even hours later

and then ....after we came upstairs .... and later

he is quiet but there is something which has shifted .... I feel it....

it seems that our personal circumstances have been in the way

I think

like some invisible wall

Even as some other force seems to render all facts as unimportant

so no, I do not normally trust, and no, I could not trust a spy

only this is not what I see when I look into his eyes

“When you said to me— you know that morning when we decided to leave the city ....” I say wrapped around him and, unsticking my skin from his to adjust within his crossed legs in the bathtub, “what was it you said, Jörn? ....that you thought it was a mistake to have gone back to the city; do you remember that?”

I look up at him

he meets my eyes without faltering

and now, there is a moment there.... where something is said between us

with just eyes

he holds me there and

after a long moment says,
“I.... couldn’t go through with it, duva....” he whispers it to me with a kind of urgency. His eyes become ever more intense now as he stares into me drawing his brows .... then

he closes his eyes and presses his forehead up against mine

and neither of us move for just that instant

when he draws back to look at me again, I see that his eye lashes are wet and clumped together and his eyes have gone red

“What?” I ask in a whisper and reach for him staring back at him, “please, Jörn, tell me....”

“You were right not to trust me,” he says in a lowered voice

“No, Jörn....” I say

He shakes his head,
“..... I mean—you were right too about what you said that—I was ....trying to crack you —and .... had it been any other .... case .... but.... you.... And—I couldn’t— I just ....knew I could not do this ....with you— I knew what it would do....to crack you .... and I just.... I just knew that I couldn’t do that —to you....“ he stops and pulls me to him in a painful grip and presses his chin on top of my head and he says, in the tone of someone in confession

“I think I always had a feeling I .... wouldn’t be able to —go through with it....”

“Go through with what?” I ask

“Those times .... those chords we played together ....I knew because of some of your dreams —when you spoke in the night during one.... and from the old tapes of you; I suspected it had to do with something from around that time—that period of your life when he —your mother’s husband—had the safe crafted by the Dutchman ..... and I knew about the awards you won for the Beethoven solos....” he takes a deep breath and continues, “it.... was just a hunch, but I noticed the first time when we sat down to play ....  that.... the sequence of chords ....“ he shakes his head and hisses slightly, “.... my ‘associates’ ..... are not pleased with me, duva....” he sighs with a note of defeat and takes me by the shoulders to look at me as he continues,

“the evening at Lincoln Center— that night? It was a set up, a trap for that guy we caught and you were the bait. But really, I think it was a test, duva....for me.... !“ he raises one brow and measures my reaction to see if it registers, “but ....once I was getting ready to go on —suddenly I —just couldn’t go through with it —which is why I was in such a bad mood that day— so I tried to text you not to come .... remember? But you turned off your phone text alerts,” this all comes out in a rush now as he grips me

He pulls me to him and as he does so I can feel his heart beating rapidly through the warmth of his skin

but oddly .... I am not alarmed

instead —I feel a kind of ....relief

“Yes, you were very tense that day,” I say dazed and thoughtful as I remember  this now, “that is why —I muted the text alerts ....I’m sorry,” I tell him feeling guilty now and try to look up at him

“Duva— listen to me—do you hear what I have just told you?”

I pull free and look up at him— and see that careful barrier of tempered storm inside his eyes seems ready to burst free

“I heard you,” I say looking back at him and then I ask, “why? Why did you .... I mean ....”

“It was that last time —when you became sick when we were doing the chords together.... and —skid—I realized ..... I have been playing a game with myself about you....” he whispers this and shuts his eyes

“What game is that?” I ask

“Like a game of denial— as if my years living a dualistic lifestyle of ....compartmentalizing emotions.... gave me an edge on how to .... handle .... what was happening between us....”

“What was ....happening between us?” I repeat, “what do you mean by that, Jörn—how do you mean that?”

It has always been that he would always falter and look away whenever I directly dared him this way

But now he looks right at me

it occurs to me how different his face looks —without the armor

it occurs to me .... what is it? but I am caught by his look, the intensity of that stare within the sharp angles of his Nordic features that —captures me.... I reach to touch his face caught up in it

“Do you really need to ask me that, duva?” he replies in a deep whisper

But—his question baffles me

I don’t understand his meaning —only I see an expression I have never seen there and wonder if he is telling me something

which I fear

and maybe this is why I say, in a kind of daze, inappropriately, before thinking,

“I think I like your winter pale skin better than when you are tan,” and draw my index finger across his face

But he ignores this with a note of annoyance shaking his head,

“Duva.... ! do you understand how this changes everything?” he tells me

“How? Why—what are you talking about?” I ask

“Because —do you not understand?”

“No—yes....Yes.... I do —I think .... because —they are angry at you for ....? —what?” I ask because it is not fully clear still

“Because I chose to protect you —instead of what I was supposed to do,” he tells me






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