Electra’s dictionary Noir (jmmusechronwillcontinue)The Ride to see Dr. Evans

 

On the long Uber ride to Dr.Evan’s office my thoughts reflect upon the day before as I go to Chestertown, and watch scenery roll by

I had managed to get hold of Bran, thinking he would be the most obvious source to begin

“what’s so important—are you in trouble?” is the first thing he says, “it sounded urgent when you said you needed to talk before Friday.”

“No—yes—I mean….it’s to do with….the things going on here—but no, to do with….”

“Beth, is this wise—? You mean all the espionage? What have you gotten yourself involved with?”

“No, I just—wanted to pick your brain about some ….Welsh history—and I can’t really avoid being involved —at this point, it seems I’m in too deep but—do you know anything about some recent archeological excavation in Powys?”

He then had let out a frustrated and slightly annoyed long breath,

“Christ….” he says under his breath 

“It’s important, Bran. Whatever you can tell me, or whatever you may know ….perhaps even if you know details of political schemes or —I don’t know, something worth being interesting to —I guess people of ….what? What would this have to do with me, I wonder….?” but I say the last part more to myself 

“Ethan Rhys-Jones….” he says this thoughtfully and I hear then another reluctant sigh before he says, “I don’t like this, Beth, I think your Viking boyfriend has caught you in some fishnet of —concocts of designs.”

“It’s not Jörn, it is to do with Sunny, it seems.”

“Are you sure? Certainly, Jörn or whatever you call him —has smoked you out of the shadows and caused this sudden interest that has all those dusty retired spies with files turning their magnifying glass upon you—do you really want me to help you get deeper embroiled—I’d rather not, if I have a choice.”

“So you won’t offer me any insight then?”

“When is your meeting—you said it’s a Dr. Evans?”

“Yes. It’s tomorrow….”

Another pause with a suppressed sigh,

“well…. there was a finding —a very recent finding ….I believe it was back in 2020–erhm—Covid delayed it I believe, but there was a dig, a big finding, in fact—they found the remains a —medieval castle —in Welshpool, I’m sure that is the site your Dr.Evans would have been involved in—it was all over Welsh news, you can imagine.”

“Oh…. wow….I ….didn’t hear about this—but I guess with everything happening with Covid it wasn’t something any of us was thinking about….”

“No—well….so…. does this help?”

“What do you know about the dig? Do you remember anything or —any interesting particulars?”

“Ermm….well, let me try to remember—I’ve not really been reading up in such matters myself but ehm….actually—here, I’ll just check right now, as we’re talking….” and I hear him moving objects and the beep of a computer. After a moment of waiting he says, “oh, that’s right—that was interesting —yes, it was a few ….rather curious artifacts and so among them they found an English coin from King Henry VIII’s time—“

“Henry VIII….odd—what would—why would—?”

“Yeah, I know—exactly….do you know your history—? he was of Welsh lineage…. not something we are proud of but, I don’t think in this period any associations with him was common though nor encouraged but, it is curious….look, Beth, I don’t like your getting deeper caught up in all this….”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, Bran—I mean—I had nowhere to go and my only way to get away from my high school stalker was….Sunny—where was everyone else? And where are they now….?”

My subtle hint at him I allow him to swallow —because it is true, isn’t it? However Sunny’s part is in involving me, there seems no warrior out there but my own coat of armor once again 

“What do you know of Powys—? —or any intrigue that might involve a sudden immigration of a family to America in the 1600’s?” I ask

Here he laughs deeply,

“that could fill a library, Beth—you would have the basis for a television series to stream for years on all the Welsh tribal wars that began before documented time….but….Powys and Gwynedd….going back before Llewelyn the Great ….ach…. before even his father ….that other ‘great’ ….the father of the medieval conflicts — going far into the realms of antiquity was our last actual king, long, long even before —even— the tenth century when there were no more kings to unite the tribes —“ a sudden heavy sigh, and pause in thought…. then, “to but start you off on the scope of the subject ….so now then the 1600’s—? well, consider this for the weight of things: the Welsh are proud of their ….long memories….and don’t make shy of the pride of it.”

Noir/Electra’s Dictionary & stranger notes; legendary lexicon of digressive internet babble Part 1

 [prelude to Dr. Evans continued]

After deliberating for a few more days over the business card Stina handed to me—days of wondering why she would insist upon my calling to go see this doctor 

which ….then lead to a sudden (few) call(s) to Stina over this

which —in the end, forced me to have to leave a voice mail after …. a series of hang ups 

which was actually prompted by a nasty text from her telling me to either text her what this was about or leave a voice message as she did not “appreciate all the calls” —and—if I’d “butt dialed” her number ….she would block my number hence forth unless ….

I say in my voice message to her,

<<“if this is a rouse and you are really suggesting that I am mentally and emotionally unbalanced and need to see a shrink at the insistence of the Interpol ‘bureau’ I don’t remember signing up for —then I hereby resign my commission!”>>

In which she called me back rather quickly after I left the message 

“You really can be such an annoying brat,” she tells me with her condescending Swedish superior airs that I’ve noted come native to some 

“Well thank you so much,” I say, “I guess it takes one to know one….”

Her silence punctuates loudly over the line. As well as her slow but significant indrawn breath as she slowly says,

“mental stability aside —as the jury is still out on your somewhat undefined legendary lexicon of digressive internet babble —which explores some dubious introspections of extra sensory perceptions and memories from alleged previous histories ….” here a notable intake of breath when she requires coming up for air, “as a matter of fact it is research! For whom you might ask? Well possibly for both of us! I am not required to order you to seek mental help —but what this is for is to investigate both for the benefit of international interest as—well as your own.”

“Oh that clears everything up for me, thanks! International interest? Ha! Whatever…. a dig in Wales hardly warrants that!”

“It is not so much the dig itself, Ms Rhys-Jones, but—“ she stops short to suddenly check herself and…. I hear a moment’s thoughtful hesitation perhaps intentional …? “Has Jörn not….well, he’s not had time has he….? Hmm—you know, after Retnuh Nivek’s escape from the Adirondak underground incident when the codes you had buried proved useful in the old mill maker’s letter lock safe…. it came to light that you might have tripped open another Pandora’s box.”

I half suppress a gasp —a bit too late,

“w-what are you talking about?”  as I think back to those days underground….especially when I thought Jörn had left me there. I had the feeling ….I spoke quite a lot in my unconscious state and that—along with that sense that every room in every part of that property had hidden microphones recording every moment 

“Jörn believes there are other codes.”

“Codes!?! You mean —in me?”

“Or things you’ve forgotten you know which —not only may be relevant to whatever Sunny is trying to smoke out of you.”

“So this doctor is part of intelligence?”

“This doctor happens to have faith that you are in the process of solving a mystery which on one hand connects you to a historical past but—on the other ….also has key elements connected to ties to political secrets relevant to the current world wide crisis….”

“Shut the fuck up,” I laugh because I really needed to let off the tension and enjoy this for her twisted humor

In fact —cannot stop laughing

“I’m serious,” she says when I guess she realizes I think she’s teasing me 

Then I seem to fall into a daze…. and just stare dumbly at a ground hog outside ….on its way to the nearby pond —carrying something in its mouth ….I almost forget she’s still there

Until

“Hello?” she says 

“Oh….!” and start to shake off the daze 

I arrange an Uber to take me to Dr. Evan’s office

Electra’s dictionary noir/Prelude to ‘Dr. Evans’(jmmusechroncont)

 

I have known men; lovers who have said to me, “you are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” and they did not mean physically; for in that I am feeble; and they ask, “how do you keep going?” and so, gone on to ask, “why do you?”

And while I hear their admiration in their tone, I have felt the kick within my gut —which I know they had not consciously given to me 

would they have me quit my life, I’ve wondered; do they feel my life thus far was not at all worth living for?

But I would not let myself ever prod deeper in that question I’ve asked myself 

because I know I would fear the answer 

and then ….I’d give up

has it been worth it….

as they say it I suppose I feel such disappointment in that very vague sense 

because ….this is a very lonely road to travel so long alone with those long spent lovers behind who had not lived up to their might and promise 

And still I do not look too deeply ….but I find the whispered hidden question of my own begin to infiltrate my faith onward 

why…. why indeed 

“I think it is that you are just too stubborn to give up,” is Jackson’s theory 

I think often of that girl’s memories; the landscapes as she walked; the man from her own land she left behind; the horizon she gazed off to ….and the man on the boat as the wind and the water whipped back his hair; that frozen, ice cold island; that hut

her life had such few options as a female ….to choose a life as female seems to double every single challenge without succumbing fully to submission for the ‘stronger’ sex 

Those memories of that life which seemed to re-emerge in my mind during my illness with mononucleosis during a deep fever and it was after those dreams had begun to come to me that I found myself in Dr. Rothschild’s office 

A psychiatrist soon to retire with un-conservative curiosities to try out some of her own experiments with minds as her need to conform seemed no longer necessary in her profession; female or not, she had reached the top of her own field and for this she had gained my respect and—another reason too; she was not willing to go along the views blindly of her status que peers 

When she regressed me…. it opened up further that channel to scenes that belonged to a mind not akin to my present life 

She opened a doorway that —up until that point in my life…. I had intentionally been hiding from ….but seemed to somehow plague my deepest subconsciousness 

Sometimes when I’m walking ….it is something about the swing and rhythm of my hips as I walk; I can feel the weight of such heavy baggage on my back weighing me down ….and my eyes shift to the horizon as though I still search for that ship long sailed ….away 

and I tell myself ….I missed the boat 

e.d. Noir (jmmusechron….?)

And when I do report to Stina, I leave the grounds and take a long walk to the next road out that leads to a pasture and then the bee farm 

she asks me without further ado when I make our weekly call,

“so have you anything to report?”

“I do actually….” I tell her but wait as I watch a nearby car drive away, “I was doing some cleaning up in the attic area and—“

“—yes?”

“I came across some interesting things ….some boxes which —well, among some valuable pieces from Africa and Iran—“

“Iran?”

“I found some old files of….documents and ….transcripts….”

“Go on.”

“Apparently he was an interrogator during his time with the FBI—“

“We are well aware of his agent background,” she sounds impatient now

“—from the Cold War,” I continue as if I did not hear her tone 

“What sort of files did you find?”

“It looked like —files of things like roughly drawn maps or….I don’t know, like those football strategy plans —I hardly can decipher their meanings, but—“

“He’s after Retnuh Nivek, you do realize—and he may be setting us up because he thinks we know his whereabouts,” she coolly says 

“Do you!?!”

“He has an old score with him and ….”

“So that’s why….” I shake my head 

“You’re his bait. He’s a hunter, remember? He can’t resist. His finding you on that road was no accident ….or that convenient old school chum stalker of yours  who he set up ….”

“Shit….” I stand in the middle of the dirt road pacing its width frantically 

“Calm down—we have not left you there on your own, haven’t you noticed the drones around?” But my mind is swimming and I have no time to process her words before she switches approach to ask, “have you seen any new people around then?”

The qualms I felt in divulging his life details seem to fly out of my thoughts now and I answer her, 

“Well….” I take a long breath to calm myself 

“You have…. you know, Jörn is concerned for you….” she says in such a way as to shake my wits even more into ….putting my faith once again in ….what I’d come to feel a lost cause 

“How would you know?”

“He thinks you are being watched—and it could be possible that Sunny is just an innocent bystander,” she seems to coax me

“You don’t believe that though, actually, do you?”

“Who is it then?” she asks 

“It’s a man ….he came by with the boys—“

“The boys?”

“Oh…. the Amish boys.”

“What….Amish—?” she pauses as it seems she think “oh…. they are known as Pennsylvania Dutch, are they not?”

I laugh,

“well…. did you have to Google that? They live among themselves. It’s a separate culture ….they did not approve of such things as electricity back around the turn of the last century….”

“And what’s it to do with Sunny….?”

“He’s quite —connected among their community, particularly the Prince family, I guess they are the family he never got to have as an agent….There’s a driver who—you know they don’t drive cars—so—“

“You think their hired driver does more than push the pedal to the metal….” with her usual finesse of using American expressions with slightly off Swedish intonation, she finishes my sentence for me 

Et je vois que tu es toujours là.  cela signifie-t-il que vous vous en souciez ? montre-moi

more thoughts of the legend; reflections

 

I always knew there was something “emotionally” wrong with my mother.

unhinged. 

I knew her differently than others in my family. Looking back now, I understand why her bond with me was bittersweet. I looked like the man she loved and lost and I was the daily reminder that she was marked in her husband’s eyes as his whore to abuse behind closed doors.

I watched from the crack of my mother’s closet door. I watched scenes that marked ….into the eggshell of my mind….I saw that vile little evil man 

but also, I saw her manic highs

I saw her lows

her lows made her cruel ….usually most to me

but I understood

I was willing to be thst for her

I listened 

I told her how much I adored her

I forgave her everything 

She was not diagnosed manic depressive

it was a secret that I saw but she hid well…. but she was quite mad…. quite mad…. and with a husband prone to violent behavior to members of his household—the exception the molesting daughter of his blood and sickness; behind closed doors were two plus one lunatics we all lived …. in that yellow house 

I reacted to her mood swings. I bore the swings. I was depressed when she hurt my feelings with her shunning and spiteful words…. that was why the self harm began, you see; her rejection made me wish to die when she shut me out and would ignore me for days; weeks…. And later years ….why do females in my family hurt me so ….the men not as much, just the one—my personal Hitler 

I had been misdiagnosed years ago for clinical depression —they were wrong. I just needed to heal. But some things you don’t heal from. It is up to the individual to figure out how to survive and build their armor and maybe one day triumph 

It is not depression when you hurt or grieve. Those emotions are correct to feel. They should be experienced, not masked by chemicals society enforces 

we should accept differences of others ….accept and appreciate their unique perspectives 

How boring if everything was straight up and down 

pour toi; grenouille de paix 2