Operation delivery ‘going postal’” goes perfectly without a single hitch, as it is Willem who arrives driving the delivery van, as I had half expected it would be. As expected, Sunny is not present during the ‘pickup service’. So, from the nearby cluster of thick shrubs, Jörn is camouflaged by the thickly leaved trees as Willem opens the back of the van to remove a large box of wild deer feed at the moment Jörn climbs in. Willem neatly shuts the back and carries the box of deer feed to the spot where Sunny has in past requested his packages to be placed
I casually walk up the long drive that leads to the dirt road and walk to the end of it where the postal van is waiting to pick me up so that I may say my goodbyes to Jörn.
The ride to Chesapeake Bay’s ship launch is heavily silent though as Willem drives and Jörn and I sit in the back on the floor surrounded with shipping boxes, all of which are actually empty
I feel as though someone should say something but it seems none of us find something relevant and worth saying but then, they have their top secret world and who am I in all of the grand scheme of things?
“Will you report to Stina?” Jörn asks suddenly over the hum of the van as he looks up from the cover of the floor to watch the sky through the cargo window
“Is this really what you choose to talk about right now when I don’t even know when I’ll see you again?”
“He’s right,” Willem says from the front, “you should. This way if anything—“ he stops whatever he was about to say and pauses as though to reconsider his words, “I would also feel better having someone or some way we can reach you. We don’t feel it is safe for you with that maniac still out on the loose too and Sunny….he’s retired and not up on ….how things work these days….”
“Why would you need to reach me?” I ask and watch Jörn for any sign of emotion
He glances up at me and raises one brow. Then keeps his eyes steady on me; they are shadowed and still gray overcast and reveal nothing
I look away
“Duva….” he touches my hand and then takes it in his. But I don’t look at him. There have been so many stretches of silences between us and I just don’t know if he leaves me with any possibility of believing in ….anything. More softly and just audible to me, he says again, “duva….” and weaves his long fingers through mine
“The last time you just ….there was nothing; no communication from you—nothing! I mean, I do understand you’re in deep cover but, Jörn, already the ties between us have been so sketchy at best but ….mostly frayed at the rope’s end ….” the last part of what I say comes out tense but my eyes tear and I look away
We reach the bay and there is the shifting of props —he changes clothes putting on a US naval military disguise but is set to climb into a box large enough to contain him. I realize the plan is to have Willem cart him to the ship in the box using a hand truck but the rest I have not enough to understand more of their plan
“So this is it?” I look at him as he is about to climb in it
Willem says from the front,
“I’ll let you talk in private,” he gets out
But then not much is said beyond,
“you’ll hear from me ….I promise….”
“You said that last time,” I look up at him and search his eyes, then I say, “be careful,” and grip his hand tight, “please….”
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