E.d Noir & muse

life


At what point does a person realize they are at a crisis point? I mean when what there is to compare otherwise is a scale somewhere else? .... how’s —now— to admit it then, dictionary —and I swear to you I am not kidding


now


it seems all paths collide

I cannot write what I mean but you know, dictionary ...what I cannot say, I fear I’m falling through the cracks and the pieces are going to disappear


so where do I hide?

my apocalypse really hit so long ago I’m out of ammo watching the world melt because people are still mean even now in all of this....dictionary so what can I do with Art to save the world? Because that is how you change it. Not by screaming at them or scolding but by inspiring them, entreating them through beauty

What do we remember of the Greeks?


****



We are still in the farmhouse ....

.... it is when Jörn starts to say something

it is something in his eyes as he looks at me ....and I don’t know why, but it almost seems he is about to say ....

well....

about to say—

no, I don’t know —it was just something in his eyes ....

only I will never know because his phone suddenly alerted and interrupted the moment

—but then he curses under his breath when he took out his phone

“Someone’s at the door at the house,” he says this with warning in a low and very serious tone.

I get a chill,

“Oh my God! Who? What do you mean?” I ask him and start to panic

“Stay calm. I need you to go to the house and answer the door,” he says this to me with his eyes dead straight and center to mine.

“Who are they?”

“It’s my watch-dogs,” he grits his teeth, “I had a feeling they saw me at the airport.”

“Your ‘watchdogs’ ? —you want me to go back to the house and answer the door for your watchdogs?” I ask

His phone makes an alert sound

“What was that?” I ask

“They just rang the doorbell— go now! Answer it— I’ll be there in five minutes —go!” and he pushes me

I have a moment where I freeze but feel the sting of Kryptonite so I bolt and head for the farmhouse door without a glance back at him as if on my way to detonate a bomb. I hear him say as I open the door,

“put the face mask on I left by the door,” with an urgent command

It’s a climb up the walk but I do my best sprint and go through the back of the house through the patio back door

It is by their second bell ring that I notice the face mask left on the console by the door. I put it on and at the same time quickly reverse my shirt and glance behind me to the back patio door I just came through.... five minutes?

As I swing open the door I am still fixing my shirt

There is a woman with a severe expression and similar attire and three men; one is clearly American but the others are not which can clearly be discerned by manner and apparel

The American flashes his badge,

“F.B.I.,” and he mumbles a name— Smulagan? Is that even a name or did he just make it up

The woman who is dark haired comes forward and introduces herself just as clearly —I don’t understand her syllables along with a Swedish accent but I recognize her from the time at the penthouse. That time she walked right by me without even acknowledging me

It seems the other two are with her and must be her heavies and again, she says names but I could not guess what she called them Sfar—nehilsin...?

They look at me after she says this and stare at my face mask

“May we come in?” she says this without a smile nor a question in her tone

I don’t really enjoy this sort of company so I hesitate and look them over,
“you are not concerned about catching germs?” because I can’t resist the question and indicate my mask

“Is someone sick here?” the woman asks me

That is when Jörn appears behind me .... but how is that possible? He didn’t come through the patio and the other door is on the other side

Jörn has a mask on I have time to notice as he says,
“yes, care to grab my test results? You can read the date plainly there,” Jörn moves uncomfortably close to them as he demonstrates, “I just picked them up at the lab,” Jörn waves the test at them and they all step back

“Henrik!” the woman shouts and snaps her fingers; oh, which one is he? but I don’t notice as face masks and gloves suddenly get passed around amongst them

Only I am still mystified over Jörn’s Houdini appearance as we go inside

Then it is all very awkward because they don’t seem comfortable suddenly

“You just came back from the lab, you say?” ‘Smulagan’ says

“Yes, it’s the one over by the airport, would you like to drive me back there? Although, knowing I’m supposed to be in quarantine I wouldn’t say that was such a good idea, in fact, I’m feeling pretty lousy so, the quicker you tell me what you are doing here the better it will be for everyone—I’m sure we all agree!” this is when Jörn seems to stumble and he leans against a chair and looks at them as he slowly sits down with impatiens holding his head.

He turns to me,

“can you get me the acetaminophen? It’s in the cabinet upstairs.”

I start to go but the woman says,

“wait! This shouldn’t take too long. Besides, it is her I would like to question.”

“Me?” I ask

I look at Jörn but he keeps his eyes neutral as he looks back at me

“Why do you want to ask me things? What things? I don’t understand what you people are doing here,” I say the last part more under my breath as I lose steam

“What is your relationship with Mr. Jörn M-m-ika—elsson,” he stumbles over the name

“How is that your business?” Jörn asks, “I mean—as you can clearly see, she’s my martial arts instructor— no, my masseuse—my handyman,” he laughs now and adds, “she does all three, she wears a lot of hats.”

Why do I get the feeling Jörn enjoys antagonizing them?


I suddenly say,
“obviously he’s not feeling well, so, can we move this along? I met Jörn in New York, he lives in my building there. We met in the lobby over a year ago. So— is this what you wanted to know?” I ask and look at the FBI guy

“Would you say you are intimate?” he asks me

“Obviously, so does this make me a spy now?” I ask

Jörn laughs but it’s a nervous laugh

The woman and he exchange glances and she decides to ask,
“has Jörn left the country recently?”

“Which country?” I ask

She gives me a snide look,
“where do you think? Istanbul,Turkey?” but she continues, “just answer the question.”

“No, he has not, then, to answer your question.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at me; studies me. Only, I’ve had a year or more of experience watching Jörn neatly compose his poker face and conjure one of his

Then she says again, watching me,
“so he had not left the country.”

I just look at her and nod

“And you are not worried about getting Corona virus?” she asks

“I gave it to him, I had it first—and you are not going to like it, so, settle in for your quarantine,” no doubt the Adrenalin was making me creative