Hitting the roof

Getting married had never been in my plans. Least of all, from the perspective of having several hundred beyond bizarre in-law freaks pestering me when I least expected them.

But more than anything, if Ed wanted to marry me, all he had to do was ask, instead of having his bothersome deceased family always harping on the same old story. Dealing with all these superbeings from the afterlife during their joint proposal of marriage was rather necrophiliac, disturbing and tiresome.

I sighed deep. Wifeys came to this great conclusion last summer: I had to be the third wife. And on and on they went.

- It’s so sad to see him lonely and helpless like an abandoned child. –said Ioanna.
- You bear the hallmark of destiny, Leni. –said Lavinia, pointing at my cleavage-.
- You mean that lousy story of the September woman with a black mole on her left breast whose destiny is linked to him? That’s just a bad joke. –I said, looking at my left boob-
- That’s not a joke, Leni, but one of his visions of the future. –said Soren Davidsen-
- It’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. He was probably blasted the day he had that vision. –I replied-
- Ed’s visions always come true –said Soren Davidsen, solemnly-.

I was about to throw a fit of hysterics when a red flash appeared in the middle of the room. It was Hellgirl making a star appearance, as red, gorgeous, elegant and stylish, as usual.

- Well, well, well. What do we have here… –she asked, looking at the ghostly family-. The High Council of the Davidsens on the verge of deciding the future of their last living member and scaring the hell out of this poor mortal woman…

The ghost people stepped back in panic. Screams could be heard all over. It was pretty hard to believe, but it was true: Hellgirl was backing me up! She walked towards the spirit who had condemned me to be fatally ball and chain forever, whether I liked it or not.

- You… Soren. Screwing up? And you, late wives… weren’t you told to stay in the underworld and stop messing with this woman? –shouted Hellgirl-

A tall ghost with a big black hat took a step forward and spoke with a low voice:

- Lilith… please, don’t interfere in the family matters.
- Good point, Markus. But as far back as I remember, I’m in the family too, am I not?

To my huge surprise, Markus weakly nodded and stared into her devilish eyes.

- Lilith??? Is that your real name??? –I asked Hellgirl-
- Of course, silly. What did you think? Hellgirl is just my stage name!
- Ok. And what do you mean, you’re in the family too? -I asked her again-

She turned slowly to face me and whispered:

- I am a late wife also.
- Whaat?
- You heard me. I married Markus in 1510. I’ve been his sixth wife until the nutter stabbed me in the heart with a silver dagger, in a fit of jealousy. He mistakenly thought I was cheating on him with his youngest brother, Nils. Then he stabbed Nils, too. And finally he killed himself.

Nils, young and handsome like his oldest brother –Markus the jealous husband- smiled and waved hello from the end of the room.

Man, what a tragedy. Burdish threesomes in the 16th century were really dramatic. This could have been an excellent subject for a History PhD thesis. I now understood why Hellgirl hated men that much. Markus and Nils pretended not to have heard her, after the embarrassing disclosure of their family secret.

- Meet Markus, my widower and proud patriarch of the Davidsens. –said Hellgirl, pointing at him-.
- You mean you’re Ed’s great-great-great -how many times should I have to say it…- great-grandmother? –I asked-
- No, Leni. Hopefully, Markus and I died without issue.

Her eyes threw daggers at the group of male ghosts who stared at her with a defiant look, at the end of the library.

- All of them had more than three wives and survived them. Isn’t it suspicious? Remember King Henry VIII? The one who had six wives and ordered to behead some of them? Think about it, Leni, before it’s too late. –she whispered-.

It gave me the shivers. I saw myself repeating Ann Boleyn’s famous last words “I heard say the executioner is very good, and I have a little neck”. It occurs to me that I have a little neck too! I couldn’t help putting my hands about it, almost in tears.

Hellgirl continued her inspiredly furious speech:

- So dear friends… thank you for gathering here to decide about Leni, but she’s not a member of the family. At least not yet. So let her go. Your offspring Ed has a deal with me and he’s still paying for it, so this is my business also.

Then she said to me:

- Why are you listening to this bunch of moronic narcissistic snobs pontificate about your future? Don’t let them tell you what you have to be. Stay single. You should be living your little life instead of losing your time here.
- They told me it was important.

There was a disapproval rumour on the background.

- Leni, have I told you yet how it goes? Believe it or not, human alchemy proves that love and passion only last three years. Then, boredom takes over. There is no such thing as endless love. Human males are weak, selfish and polygamist by nature. They only want what they don’t have. And when they get it, they throw it away, just because it’s not fun anymore.

I pulled her arm and whispered in her ear:

- Hellgirl, that sounds rather resentful. And you’re getting a bit too feministic, aren’t you? This people won’t get what you’re saying and will go mad about it.
- I don’t give a damn, Leni. This is what men do in this family, and they need to be taught a good lesson.

A fat lady from the underworld approached me and shouted to the audience, with her strident voice:

- Are you sure she will ever have babies? She’s so skinny! –she said, grabbing me hard and pinching me in the arm-
- Oouch! –I shouted, pulling away from her-

Hellgirl stared at the woman, lifted her index finger and sent a fire ray that singed her hair.

- Darling. Your opinion has not been requested for the moment, so split. Now. –said Hellgirl-

I had the warm feeling of another presence in the room and a strong craving for togetherness. I turned back and saw Ed unexpectedly leaning on the doorframe, quietly witnessing the tense scene. He was back from Orsinia. When his dead relatives saw him, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

- Won't you give me a moment's peace in my own house? Everybody piss the fuck off!!! -he shouted angrily-

Hellgirl, Soren, Markus, late wives, dead kids, ancestors and other spirits scattered all over the mansion.

- Ed… - I stammered-
- You too, Leni. –he said- I'm sorry, but I need to be on my own.

I left him alone in anger and bitterness, just as he wanted.


"19th nervous breakdown"
(Rolling Stones, Soldier Field rehearsals, Chicago - September 1997)

Family council

I took cover under the butler’s umbrella on our way back home. Surprisingly, he stood in the rain, holding the handle, sheltering me. I looked at him with bemused embarrassment.

I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but in a middle class family with a decent standard of living. We never had domestic staff at home and it was hard for me to cope with these status differences. So it was sad to see how the poor guy was standing in the rain while preventing me from getting soaked.

- Stoiko, please… don’t do that. We can share the umbrella. It’s raining hard and I wouldn’t forgive myself if you caught a bad cold or something worse. –I said-
- I really appreciate that, Miss Qinan, but it’s very unlikely that I will become ill. I already died of Black Death during the Great Plague of 1738. Lord Davies did his best to heal me, but unfortunately it couldn’t be possible. The good news is I’m now immune to any kind of disease. –he said, laughing-.

He was a very erudite, extremely able and charming man, but sometimes he set my teeth on edge.

- When did you meet him? –I asked, very curious-
- I’ve known Lord Davies since he was born. I’ve served the Old Lord till he passed away, in 1705. Since then, I’ve served in the family to the best of my ability.–he said, smiling at me-.

I knew from Ed that Stoicescu had always been a model of faithfulness and loyalty. He had saved him from the abyss of despair when Ioanna -Ed’s first wife- and their three little daughters died of scarlet fever in 1740. Ed was a famous physician in the court of the Burdish King, but couldn’t do anything for them.

Some years after, he remarried Lavinia, the youngest daughter of a local nobleman. They had a happy but short marriage: Ed was sent overseas to treat people sick with the Black Death, a common epidemic in these days. Lavinia and Seymour travelled to meet him, but they never actually arrived at their destination: their ship was caught in a big storm and sank into frigid deep waters. There were no survivors. Ed was absolutely shattered.

He retired from his public life and became a gloomy chemist; an isolated third rate healer who focussed on preparing useless concoctions to bring dead people back to life. In bitterness and desperation, he intended to make a deal with the devil to revive his wives and children, forgetting that not even the devil can do that.

Hopeless and alone, he hid in the streets of Vienna, drowning in pain, disappearing in the gloomiest hovels. He became addicted to absinthe, opium and cocaine and met all kinds of pretty unsavoury people. He begged the devil for mercy and asked him to take his life. But the devil tempted him with money, success and a long life, instead.

Stoicescu came back from the afterlife to follow him. If not for his constant care and tenacity, Ed would have left himself die. After that, he decided to change his life completely and became a plutocratic tycoon with a little help of Hell’s minions.

I was lost in these thoughts when we entered the house. A small welcoming committee formed by Ed’s late wives and kids was waiting.

- My dear Leni, it’s so nice to see you again. –said Lavinia-
- I’m very glad to see you too.

We double-cheek kissed. The four kids gave me a lovely ghostly smile and started playing ring-around-a-rosie. They carried the scent of misfortune about them. I asked myself why anyone would be afraid of these innocent creatures from the underworld. The living ones are always more dangerous than the dead.

- Leni, let’s go into the library, please. We need to speak to you. –said Lavinia-.

I followed them, smelling something fishy. As I walked down the corridor I came across Angus Davies –or rather Davidsen-, that ancestor of Ed’s who had badly shouted at me and insulted me once from the painting hung on the wall. I shyly whispered 'Hi', but he passed me by, ignoring me and as he proudly walked towards the library.

I can't stand rudeness. And not responding to my greeting was really rude.
‘Last time this happens to me’ –I promised myself, very annoyed-

The kids disappeared in the dark, far ahead of us. Ioanna and Lavinia floated gracefully on the air, leaving a scent of wild roses behind them. They were so beautiful and outstanding, that it was sad to think life had left them so long ago.

When I entered the library, wives, kids and a few unknown ancestors were already there. It looked like a gathering of 18th century folks. Ghosts and spirits were flying across the room, but nobody took any notice of them.

A group of people wearing period dress stared at me. I could hear a thousand voices murmuring. Something was brewing there and I suspected I was the last one to know.

I felt awkward and very intimidated. Suddenly it was not such a good idea to stay, so I decided to leave the room straightaway. But too many voices shouted demandingly, asking me back. I turned and slowly went back to the library, embarrassed, overwhelmed and scared.

There was a deathly silence. I sat on the wingback chair, surrounded by all these spiritual creatures. I was shivering inside. Ioanna stood up and spoke solemnly.

- Leni, I’m representing the family council. We need to sort out an important issue related to you. It has been brought to our attention that Ed gave you a diamond ring three weeks ago.

I looked around in amazement.

The. Family. Council. Of the Davidsens, of course. There must have been hundreds of them in the room. This revelation made me feel insignificant, confronted by a huge group of souls, probably hostile, who were casting their web around me.

- How did you know about the ring? –I asked, very offended, feeling that my private life was being unfairly threatened.
- We know everything –replied a very old man, standing up by the piano-. I’m Soren Davidsen, Edvard’s great-great-grandfather.

I could barely keep my cool, but tried my best to answer calmly.

- Is this the ring you're talking about? –I asked-

I raised my hand, victorious, proudly showing the ring as a spoil of my love war with Ed. A myriad little ghosts of all colours rapidly arrived from nowhere and flitted around me. A nice racket started.

- Then you’ve got to do it. Now. –she said-
- What? –I asked, intrigued-
- You’ve got to be the third wife. –said Soren Davidsen with a low voice-.

"Too many people" (Paul McCartney)

Erwin Cupcake, guardian of the waters

I looked into the well. To my surprise, the water level started going down quickly until the well ran completely dry. The squeaky male voice that seemed to come from beyond the grave, spoke again in broken English:

- You, who are?

I couldn’t see clearly but I spotted a small human shape in the dark at the bottom of the well.

- And who are you, sir, if I may ask?
- No, you may not. First, I asked first! –he answered-.

I sighed and gave up. That stubborn creature from the well sounded really bossy.

- My name is Leni Qinan and I’m paying a courtesy visit to the Lord and Master of this house. –I said, ironically-.
- Edvard is in the house now not.

He spoke in a very funny way, with a strong Burdish accent, turning upside down the order of words in his sentences.

- Oh, you know him? –I asked-
- Yes, little boy, I know him since he was. –he answered-
- I see.
- This ring yours is, hmm? –he asked, showing me the diamond ring that I had thrown away some minutes before, all covered with mud-
- Yes.
- Why throw it, did you? You want it anymore, do not?

Should I say that I spotted his tiny eyes glowing in the dark when he pronounced the word ‘ring’? He sounded as incredibly greedy for my ring as Gollum for the One Ring that had enslaved him.

- I do want my ring back! –I said immediately-
- Then throw it away, why did you? –he asked, folding his arms-
- Because I was very upset with the person who gave it to me. –I answered, looking down-.
- Was it Edvard?
- Yes, it was him.
- And you so upset with him, why were?
- It’s a long story.
- Time to listen, have I…

The guy was driving me batty with his questions.

- Hmm… still waters run deep. Beautiful, it is beautiful. Yes. –he said, his bright eyes shining again-. This… an engagement ring is?
- Well, I don’t know…
- How come you don’t know?
- He never said to me what kind of ring is it supposed to be.
- I see. To draw the words out of Edvard with a corkscrew, you sometimes will have. But a decent soul and a man of deep feelings he is. To tell you about them let him find the right moment. Upset with him, are you because of that?
- Maybe.
- Why you not tell him and make peace?
- Because I came here to give him his birthday present, but he hates his birthday and so he hates my birthday present too. I’m afraid I’ve put my foot in. And this makes me feel very sad.
- Everybody likes a birthday present.
- But he was angry with me because it reminds him that…
- 296 years old, that he is now? Survive us all, that he will?

He left me speechless. That guy knew everything about Ed. Above all else his innermost secrets: his age and fate.

- This evil object… yours is too? –he said, showing me the cell phone I had just thrown away-
- Yes.
- Me on the head it hit! –he said, scatching the top of his head-
- I’m very sorry. I didn’t know you were there. I hope I didn’t hurt you. Are you fixing something in the well? –I asked-

I thought he was repairing the water pump or a valve in the pressure tank, but he gave me a puzzling answer that left me stunned.

- Here, I live here.
- Here? You mean you live in the well, sir?
- Right, that is.

'Oh my gawd' -I thought-

- I havent heard your name yet, Mr…
- My rudeness excuse, please. Me introduce myself let: Erwin Cupcake, I am. Been the guardian of the well for the last nine centuries, I have. To take care of the waters in this land, my duty is.
- Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cupcake.
- Call me Erwin, you can.

Then, he gave me back the ring and the cell phone with his green wet muddy hands.

- You have a very nice job, Erwin. To keep water from being polluted and uselessly wasted is admirable.
- Treasure of nature, water is, my friend. Men use not it wisely, no.

Here you have the gospel truth, directly from the lips of the oldest ecologist activist on earth, born long before Greenpeace was founded.

I was lost in these thoughts when I felt a little tap on my shoulder. It was the butler, who had arrived quietly, clasping an umbrella in his hands. I turned back and smiled at him.

- Hello again. –I greeted him-
- Hello Miss Qinan.
- I was talking to Mr. Cupcake.
- Oh, good afternoon, Erwin. –he said, waving at the creature in the well-.

Erwin Cupcake waved back, very politely. Then, the butler whispered in my ear:

- I hope he hasn’t stolen anything from you. He’s a good man, but just like magpies, is fatally attracted to shiny trinkets and all kinds of jewellery.
- He was only giving me back my cell phone and diamond ring.

Erwin Cupcake heard the butler’s comment and shouted, very upset:

- I’m not a thief, you telltale!
- I know, I know… but just in case, Erwin -said the butler, sighing-

Then, he turned to face me and said very solemnly:

- Miss Qinan, I’m pleased to announce that Lord Davies has anticipated his return journey and will be back at his residence tonight. He would be very honoured if you would accept his invitation to dinner and stay in the house until tomorrow. Then, if it’s alright with you, he would like to take you back to the Sandwich Islands in his private jet.

Ed was unbelievable. He was always on top of everything. That was more than I could ever expect. I was about to answer, when Erwin the guardian of the well shouted:

- Sit fat and happy until the sky falls on your head, Leni, are you going to?
- No –I said, shaking my head-. I’m not that kind of person.
- To him and make peace go, then. With him put things right. And then… the diamond ring means, ask him what does –he said, sinking slowly into the water-

Erwin was almost baffling, but this time he had been crystal clear. The butler bowed and said:

- He might sound weird sometimes, but he’s a wise man.
- Is he dead too?
- Oh no, he’s the oldest man on earth. There’s only a living creature older than him in this planet: a yew tree in the rainforests of Zeewland. Erwin is turning a thousand years old at the end of the spring, but still full of life, as you can see.
- And yet he lives in a well?
- His tired old eyes can hardly see. He needs to live in the dark and he chose the well as his last home. He's happy here. From water he was made; to water he will return…

Supernatural people never cease to amaze me. We, humble mortals are way behind them on everything.

I opened up my right hand and watched the rain clear up the mud from my diamond ring. Then, I took my backpack, and we walked our way back to the house.

"I wear your ring" (Cocteau Twins)

The perfect day

After spending a long time cogitating about what to do with Ed’s birthday gift, I decided to throw caution to the wind and travel to Burdishland: I was bound and determined to deliver it myself. If the mountain wouldn't come to Mohammed, Mohammed would go to the mountain. Therefore, my first trip to Burdishland had nothing to do with tourism: I flew there last 10th of April, impulsively acting out of love.

My plane landed at Bad Hershfield airport -the capital city of Burdishland- at 11AM local time, after an eight-hour scary flight. I don’t speak a single word of Burdish, but using the sign language I painfully managed to get a train ticket to Bad Sallund, the tiny southern village where Ed’s ancestral home is.

My train was completely empty. I was the sole passenger on board. For an instant, I was afraid that it would drive back to the shed to stay overnight, preventing me from reaching my destination. But at 1PM sharp the ghost train took off with me in the direction of Bad Sallund, making smoke and puffing out of the chimney.

My trip to the Deep South lasted four endless hours. I was already knackered, but I had a mission to accomplish and you don’t know how dilligent and determined I can be sometimes. So no gripes. No complains. No regrets.

Upon my arrival, sadness hung heavy on my heart. Bad Sallund’s train station was deserted. There was not a living soul there. Something was telling me I wouldn’t meet Ed. I could feel it in my bones. And I was aching with longing for him.

Bad Sallund was the cloudiest place on earth. I never thought the sky would look so gloomy. But a stargazer and lover of the skies would have enjoyed the sight of the dark little town, suddenly flooded by bright moonlight when the clouds broke.

I buttoned up my coat as the snowflakes twirled around me in the misty air. The frogs croaked in the streams. The dogs howled in the dark. The silence was muted by the haunted whistling sounds of the wind blowing through the trees in that lonely afternoon. It was strangely beautiful.

I had never felt so much cold before in my whole life. My feet were chilled to the bone. My fingertips were getting numb. I had to blow on my hands to warm them up.

The village had its charm. Forcing a metaphor, it looked like a snow ball into a Grimm’s fairytale. The houses were decorated with finials, treetoppers, garlands and all kinds of Easter ornaments that would be hanging until the early days of Pentecost.

As for the natives… they were not hostile, but peered up at me quietly. It was unsettling to have all those people staring at me constantly, but I wasn’t surprised: Bad Sallund is a very little town whose population doesn’t even reach a hundred persons. They seldom receive visits from strangers and it’s pretty obvious that I’m not a Burdish citizen: My dark eyes and hair often give me away in northern countries. Besides, I stood out being so small. The vast majority of Bad Sallund’s inhabitants seem to belong to a superior race: they’re huge, blue-eyed, and most of them gorgeously blond. In my eyes, they carried an imperceptible halo of melancholy above and beyond their heads. The same halo that made Ed look so desirable.

That dash of sorrow was contagious. I walked through the street market vendor stalls as I started getting overwhelmed by powerfully toxic blues. A kind soul offered me a cup of hot tea and sweet fruits covered with caramel, ring-shaped pastry, Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies.

I managed to ask for directions. I needed to know where Ed’s house was. To my surprise, nobody had ever heard of Ed Davies or Edward Davies; not even of Lord Davies, or whatever the hell his name was. I was not sure of anything anymore.

After an incredibly nonsensical discussion in broken English with a greengrocer about that particular subject, a mysterious man approached me and said:

- His real name is not Ed Davies, but Edvard Davidsen.
- You must be wrong. We’re surely talking about two different persons. –I said-
- I’m not wrong, miss. He left Burdishland as Edvard Davidsen and came back from the islands as Ed Davies. His home, Davidsen Manor, is about a half hour walk from here.

Gosh, Ed never ceased to amaze me. Was he really Edvard Davidsen instead of Ed Davies? When and how did this metamorphosis take place? And for what reason?

I walked in the drizzle to Davidsen Manor –that name gave me the shivers-, ready to put the disappointment of finding there some unknown person called Davidsen, who would have nothing to do with Ed.

I was soaked to the bones. I knocked at the door of the beautiful country house and to my huge surprise, Stoicescu -Ed’s ghost butler- opened the door.

- Welcome, Miss Qinan. Please, come in. It’s very nice to meet you here.
- Oh Stoiko, you don’t know how glad I am to see you again! –I said, letting out a sigh of relief- I must apologize for not telling Lord Davies about my visit. I know he didn’t expect me to come here today.
- You’re always welcome, Miss Qinan –he said, bowing-. But I’m afraid he’s not in. He had to go on a business trip to Orsinia with Miss McGuire.

OOH SHIT! Misty McGuire!!! That bitch from Hell!!! I was about to throw a fit of extreme rage, but I pulled myself together, breathed deeply, swallowed my anger and asked:

- And when is he supposed to be back from his business trip to Orsinia with Miss McGuire?
- Within two days. He went there to launch her last book.
- Oh thank you for this valuable piece of information. –I said, ironically-

And yet he refused to publish my books. Awh... fuck!

- Tell me something, Stoiko. I asked for directions in the village and they told me his name is not Ed Davies but Edvard Davidsen. How come?
- That’s because Lord Davies changed his name long time ago, when he... –he suddenly shut up-.
- When he what?
- I think you better ask him, Miss Qinan. –he said, looking down-

Of course I would. What kind of personal reasons had led him to change his name?

- But please, come into the house. It’s cold and damp outside.

I walked into the lobby, almost in tears.

- Would you be kind enough to give this to Lord Davies, please? It’s my birthday gift –I said, giving him the birthday parcel, wiping away my tears-

He stared at me sympathetically.

- I will give it to him, Miss Qinan.

Mission accomplished.

I took my backpack again, ready to start a gruelling return trip to the South Sandwich Islands.

- The late wives of Lord Davies would be very pleased if you accepted their chambers and stay overnight in their residence. –he said-
- Please tell Lady Ioana and Lady Lavinia that I really appreciate their offer. They’re always most kind to me, but I must be going back home now.
- Wouldn’t you like at least to come in and have a cup of tea to warm you up before you go, Miss Qinan?
- It’s very kind of you, but no. I must be going now. Thank you just the same.
- Safe paths and good luck, then. I hope we meet again someday. –he said, bowing-

I waved goodbye and walked in the drizzle to the main road, drowning into longing and melancholy. Then, little by little, he closed the door to the mansion.

I took my cell phone and dialled his number. It was my last desperate attempt to reach him, but all I got was his voicemail: ‘I’m not available at the moment; please leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible’.

He probably was at the Marriott-Hilton-Sheraton cocktail party, enjoying a spoonful of Iranian caviar harvested in the Caspian Sea, sipping 42-years-old Compass Box Whisky and smoking a Marlboro light, mingled with the celebrities, next to Misty.

Shit. I needed so badly to hear his voice. I only wanted to make the perfect day for him.

Crying in a fit of rage, I looked for a good place to throw my cellphone away. And then I saw that well in the middle of the garden. No sooner said than done: Absolutely furious, I took off the diamond ring and threw it inside the well too.

- Autsch!!! –shouted a croaky, throaty voice from the well-

I peered into the abyss, but it was too dark too see anything.

- Autsch!!! Kopfschmerzen haben!!! –shouted again the voice from the well-
- I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Burdish… Do you need help? -I said, not quite sure if it was sane to speak to a voice coming from a well-

"Perfect day" (Lou Reed & friends)