“.... but you already knew they were after the code,” Jörn says
“I know, but.... I didn’t realize how close — I thought they— I didn’t realize how—near they ....believed—they think.... they are to .... Jörn....” I shudder, “so it’s just hit me— it seems to make it all so ....real now for me....”
and yet as I say this.... it seems as if vaguely it connects with something ....so familiar....
but it seems as this is now so real.... I feel more conscious of something else....
this vague sense ....I can’t quite make sense of —that seems to run so deep .... as if within my very soul, its very fiber....
And feel aware it seems to affect me even more so —now in this moment—
as these things become apparent ....like being flung into the eye of a storm, as if shot from —out of time— by some catapult, a storm from long ago,
and with it seems to bring and stir up something; some long forgotten ancient fear ....some terror
of impending mortal doom
and I look again at the stack of white hides.... and can see them dripping red, covered in blood .... a dream? so tactile, it doesn’t seem —and yet feel.... far too real feel ....some deep pain
....and horror of —intangible loss
“....back before the midnight sun....” I blurt out and the words just spill off my tongue
And then, startling me, Jörn’s phone alerts a message
I watch him as he reads it —then reply before he puts his phone away,
But then he just turns to stare out the hide’s wall of window
“Willem?”
and distracted, without turning from the view he looks out of, he says,
“ja —yes....”
and try to read his face with him silhouetted in profile
And suddenly, still without turning he strangely asks,
“why have you stayed?”
“Why have I stayed?” I ask repeating his question back confused, “what do you mean?”
“Why have you?” he asks and turning now to look at me, intently stares into my eyes, “why do you stay?”
“Why? .... what??? ....why-do-I stay?” stunned I repeat and shake my head, looking up at him —somewhat astounded, as I still don’t get his meaning
He stretches his arms out, holding out his hands as if to indicate, with a kind of wave with both hands, “I really don’t get it,” he says with a kind of incomprehensible calm and it is —something.... in his implication ....that suddenly ignites me like a fuse and —sets off
And.... in a wild flash, I feel myself brewing to erupt, yet calmly enough I begin....
“and where would you have me go? Hitch hike back to the city?”
then winding up,
“....are you serious....? How can you even ask me this? Where do you expect me to go?” I repeat this question to him again, still stunned by his question to me
and stare at him aware of the alarms in my head now sounding off,
And don’t draw breath for awhile,
“—look where you brought me! —not exactly the most convenient location, out here in the scenic yet isolated mountains! oh, the Adirondaks that stretch for miles, shall I ski across the country, how’s that?—you fucking just left me here for months—why do I stay!? You fucking ask me that? And go where-where?—exactly? How? How!!? Just tip toe past that friendly guerrilla in a ski mask down there and his jolly merry men swinging rifles in the barn house, should I make them lemonade and tea? They won’t notice me—I’ve been trapped in that demon dungeon for how many weeks?—thanks to you!—and never mind that there has been ten feet of snow or more out there since last October. How ‘bout I just call an Uber, then? Or ask our Amish neighbors for a ride in one of their wagons back to the penthouse in Manhattan? They’re so friendly! Gosh, why didn’t I think of that before?!” my pulse pounding wildly in my head by now as I rage on at him, “here’s a question for you, Jörn: why the fuck did you just leave me here and go sky-diving no doubt from helicopters around the world playing your spy games and behaving like some one man show deranged Scandi-noir vigilante Batman! How fucking dare you ask me that! —you shouldn’t have left me here!” and in my rage kick a pile of blankets across the floor at him stomping past him seething rage and mumbling, “mutha-fukka!” at no one in particular
and by the silence that follows, I start to suspect I must have shocked him. Well, he’s never seen my rage
I turn now to look at him waiting for his response
“I know....” he says rather quietly somewhat subdued and with trepidation seems to hesitate.
He walks across the floor, first in the opposite direction from me and stops to think then turns to look at me thoughtfully,
“....I know you have been stuck here and it’s my fault—believe me, I know....”
“Why would you ask me that? How dare you! I swear to god, Jörn!—really?!—fuck you!—who needs you! ‘Why do you stay’” I repeat this still amazed, “Where would I go?—there’s a great question for you, Jörn— I’d love to hear your suggestions and —how—I’d get to anywhere from here—oh, yeah! —maybe I can charge up that little rover!— now that I know how it works! Wow! —what about that!?”
“If you just calm down a minute, long enough— I can explain that is not what I was asking you,” he finally says now
I go over to the cot that faces towards the space heater and sit down,
“pray elaborate, as I am not sure how to interpret your original question to soften the blow of your meaning behind ‘why do you stay?’”
“That was not what I meant,” he lets out a heavy sigh and draws his fingers through his hair making it fall free of its tie, “that was not even where I meant this conversation to go....” he walks over to me and looks at me,
“if you can listen to me now....?”
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