Ready to be the party queen

The morning after when I woke up, Ed was not there. I lazily rolled over, tummy to back, to his side of the bed. It was still warm. The pillow had his scent. And it smelled so good.

I yawned and stretched. There was a sentence written on the mirror in red shiny characters: “Time to get going, sleepy head”, it said.

Hmm. What a funny awakening after a night of love and passion. I would have expected something more romantic from him, kind of “A day without you is like a day without sunshine”. But maybe it was a matter of Burdish humour (the type of humour that makes you laugh for five seconds and think for five minutes; something that most Sandwichians -like me- will never get).

I looked out the porthole. It was a genuine spring morning and I smelled the salty sea air that blew through the fluttering net curtains.

And I suddenly remembered… it was the day of the awards ceremony!!!

There was an impressive mannequin in the middle of the cabin, all dressed up like a princess in a magnificent red tulle dress, a pair of shiny red patent leather shoes, red opera gloves and black mink stole; it wore beautiful drop earrings, a ribbon choker and a tiara worthy of a queen.

But there was something oddly funny about that mannequin: a pair of silk sheer stockings, a tiny beaded black g-string and a rhinestoned bra were hanging from its right hand. I smelled a rat.

- You can’t attend the awards ceremony in a French maid outfit, Leni –said a familiar voice-
- Hellgirl! Are these clothes and sexy undies for me? –I asked her-
- Of course, my dear. You’ll look pretty as a picture in this fabulous red dress. Have a look at the jewels. They’re real: genuine Burmese rubies and legendary South African diamonds that I borrowed especially for you from the Tiffany House in Madhattan. I know red is your favorite colour and diamonds are your favourite gems.- What do you mean you “borrowed” the jewels?- Well, I had to cast a spell on the shop assistants that made them a bit groggy, so that they didn’t object when I asked if they would be kind enough to lend me their best ruby choker and diamond tiara.- Hellgirl! That’s is a robbery!
- Oh my, this is too strong a word to say, Leni! We don’t use money in Hell; our economy is based on deals, barters, swaps and borrowings. So what’s wrong with it when both parties agree on such a private agreement?
Ah, she was impossible. Meanwhile, I was blinded by the brightness of the red fabric, the real rubies and the diamonds. I couldn’t take my eyes off the dress.

- Did you know, Leni, that the reporters of “The Sandwichian Chronicle” have nicknamed you “Ed’s missing urban Cinderella” when you disappeared? –she asked, as she was leafing through a newspaper-.
- Yes. I became famous when they caught us kissing last summer at the Arena lobby.

I had been stalked by the Sandwichian reporters for months until I disappeared. It all started when Bob Gausmann, my ex-boyfriend, invited me to the tennis cup finale. The crème de la crème of Sandwich was there to watch the event and of course, Ed was there too. When he saw me with Bob, he became so jealous that he lost his cool and phoned me to meet him at the lobby on the spot. I managed to calm him down and when we patched things up, we hid in a dark corner to kiss. Right after make up sex, there’s nothing like make up kisses. But as soon as his lips touched mine, three reporters came out of the blue flashing their cameras.

- Tonight’s the night to show them that you’re not a poor thing. –said Hellgirl- It will be earthshattering news when it’s official.- What? What will be official? –I asked, very intrigued-
- That you’re Ed’s girlfriend.
I collapsed on the bed.

- AM I??? –I asked in shock-
- I think so. It’s pretty obvious that he has some expectations about you, isn’t it?- He’s just protecting me. I’m now in a difficult position, unemployed and far from home.- Of course. And you have a mission in life that has a lot to do with him.- What mission???
She was about to answer when Percy, her inseparable servant, made a star appearance in the room, wearing his tacky red top hat.

- Long time no see, Leni. I still can’t understand why you date humans again, least of all Ed. He may come up with a marriage proposal and impregnate you five times before you realise it. So honey, my condolences. He’s a hottie but he’s old and immortal also. He has been twice widowed; he’s dark as a dungeon and weird like a twilight vampire! What a nice history you will inherit, luv. You surely deserve someone better. –said Percy-
- Stop the verbal diarrhea, Percy. We all make mistakes. –said Hellgirl, smoking her long golden cigarette-. As the say goes: “If you marry you will regret it. If you do not marry you will regret it. If you marry or do not marry, you will regret it.” –she laughed-. I already had 15 husbands when I started to regret, so it can’t be that bad!- OOOOOH SHUT UP! I’M NOT MARRYING ED!!! –I shouted while they killed themselves laughing-

I was very worried.

- Leni, pull yourself together. I’ve known Ed for 250 years now. He’s neither a dork nor a freaky guy and I’m totally sure that he’s head over heels in love with you. I predict you’ll end up marrying him -and you’ll marry well- but all in goodtime. –said Hellgirl-
- Arrrrgh… will you come off it, please? –I mumbled-
- What? Isn’t he good-looking? –asked Hellgirl-
- Yeah he’s really hot. –I answered-
- Isn’t he filthy rich? –asked Percy again-
- Yes, indeed.
- Then what else can you ask for? If not for the fact that he’s older than God, darker than black and busier than a three-legged cat, he would be perfect. Oh and he gets up to some crazy antics quite often too…
I raised an eyebrow. Percy went on.

- But for better or worse, you love him, Leni. Poor thing. You’re sick of oldermenitis and that turns you into an oldephile.
- What???- That's the opposite to a paedophile. –said Percy- You know, one of these perverts and vicious individuals who like to shag with the older generations… I’m 535 years old, Leni and very open minded to any sexual options if you'd ask… -whispered Percy into my ear-

- You would be the last one I'd ask! -I said-

I was about to shout out again, utter a curse, a harsh abrupt scream. But before I did, Hellgirl warned him:

- Percy, if you don’t shut up right now, I’ll send you to ride the wings of pestilence and doom you to dwell in caves filled with creepy worms and biting bats till the next millenium.- Your threaten sounds like the hackneyed libretto of a bad opera rather than the punishment of a she-devil, Hellgirl. How come you never force me to march naked among the applicants for the title of Miss Universe or arrange a threesome for me with Angelina Jolie, Megan Fox and Lucy Liu, instead?
- That’s a foursome, hamster dick! You’re so stupid that you can’t even count.- Hey guys, stop it. Now. Or I’ll get mad. You sound like dumb and dumber!
They could spend hours fighting over the most stupid things one can imagine.

- I just need to look pretty and witty tonight! Prettier and wittier than Misty! –I cried in despair.-
- Aww… poor thing. Look what you’ve done, Percy: you made Leni cry and you’ve pissed me off. I’m gonna freeze you for a while.
Hellgirl pointed out at him and Percy was frozen on the spot in carbonite, like Han Solo in “The Empire strikes back”.


"Party girl" (U2)

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)

Forgiveness and forgetfulness

After having removed my clothes, I wrapped myself in the blanket and crouched in a fetal position for a while. Then, I washed my face, washed my hair and the rest of my body, feeling loathing and rage. But the water could not wash away my emotions. I felt rotten.

Ed was standing in the middle of the room, still clenching the dagger with both hands, staring at me, speechless.

- Why on earth have you done that? -he whined bitterly-
- What do you mean? I killed him! –I protested-
- No, you haven’t! This will put him out for the count just for a few time and then he will come back to life beside himself with fury, claiming for revenge.
- But I’ve slit his throat! Look at him, he’s dead! –I complained energetically-.
- No, he's not dead, Leni. That’s not the right way to kill him.

Jimmy was still on the floor, bleeding like a stuck pig. His thick black blood was flowing like a river from the wound in his neck. In all honesty, it was hard to imagine that in a few hours he would be alive and kicking.

It was already hard enough for me to realize that I had failed to murder him. How could I possibly know that there was a special procedure to kill that guy? That sounded quite flippant to me. Like staking a vampire’s heart, beheading him and filling his mouth with garlic; shooting at werewolves with silver bullets, or locking up Superman in Lex Luthor’s kryptonite cage. That was just fiction. Or so I thought.

When it comes to questions of belief, I must say I’m quite skeptical. As an obstinate unbeliever, my attitude towards rituals has always been hilarious. Seriously, I never felt the need to perform a set of imposed actions with a supposed symbolic value. That sounds to me almost like superstition; something hard to process by the small, but existing rationalistic part of my brain.

These thoughts brought back a fond memory: when I was 20 I had a Burdish boyfriend whose father was a freemason. You know freemasonry: the secret and esoteric fraternal organisation that arose from obscure origins in the late 16th century, organized into Grand Lodges. Masons conduct their meetings using a ritualised format, believe in a Supreme Being and their members belong to a tight hierarchy. They use signs, grips and passwords to gain admission to meetings and identify legitimate visitors.

My boyfriend used to joke about this particular thing: the grips. So if I ever asked him on a masonic meeting day how his dad was, he would always answer “Uh oh, it’s brotherhood day today”, placing the fingers in the form of a cat's paw, performing one of the most famous masonic handshakes, called "Lion's Paw”.

So, just as the freemasons needed their rituals to socialize and fraternize, Jimmy Moon also required specific etiquette to be killed.

Ed looked terribly disappointed about the results of my unexpected move to slit Jimmy’s throat. He strongly rejected my help. He lost it and ran around the room screaming, tearing out his hair and grinding his teeth, almost in tears.

- Don’t tell me I need to give three sommersaults in the air and then clap my hands twice looking north before I shoot at him a 24 carat gold bullet exactly one inch and a half above the eyebrows and then sing the hymn of the seventh galaxy to make sure he is dead and not just dazed. Come on! –I said, with great skepticism-.
- Leni, I’m not kidding. There is only one way to kill Jimmy Moon: We have to fight till death. Nobody else can kill him but me.
- Can’t you ask Hellgirl for help? -yes, silly question, but I had to ask-.

Ed stared at me, smiled sadly and said:

- Do you think Hellgirl is the solution to all our problems? I’m already paying a high price to her for past my arrogance and ambition. I could call Hellgirl; James Bond; the SWAT Squadron; Harry Potter; the Incredible Hulk or the X-men. It would make no difference at all: I have to face this by myself.
- Call somebody from the underworld, then.
- The laws of the underworld must be observed and its inhabitants must not be bothered unnecessarily. As I said before, I have to kill Jimmy; the sooner the better. Now get dressed, honey. I need to wait here until he wakes up and continue the fight. This may happen at any moment.

I put my peasant girl’s clothes on again. Jimmy Moon was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, apparently dead.

Ed sighed deep. We waited quietly in the house for two hours until we saw Jimmy roll over onto his back and open his eyes. He was still stunned. He slowly touched his wound with his fingertips and had a thorough look at them, all soaked in his sticky black blood. Then he stared at me accusingly and I trembled, expecting his wrathful revenge immediately. He quickly stood up, miraculously recovered after I had almost cut his throat from ear to ear. His black cloak waved continuously, fluidly, with every move he made.

He jumped beside me and held my right arm in a strong grip. I screamed in terror. Ed pulled firmly my left arm and shouted:

- Don't you dare touch her. Let her go and take me.
- That would be way too easy. You must accept your fate. If I kill you, you’re dead. If I keep her with me, it will be worse than death. You don’t deserve any less.-said Jimmy-
- Shut up and fight. –threatened Ed, pulling out his dagger from his thigh sheath-.
- Say goodbye to your gal before you die –said Jimmy, literally throwing me into Ed’s arms-.

Ed held me tenderly and whispered into my ear:

- You’re so lively and full of life, Leni. I love you more than you’ll ever know. But I’m destroying your life. And I’ve just dragged you into this dark world of death and sorrows, where three hundred year old men can’t help stopping the most unsolvable disputes but in a fight till death. I hope you will forgive me for that.
- There’s nothing to forgive, Ed. And you haven’t destroyed my life. Now fight and then come back to me. I love you too. Never forget that.

We kissed long. It tasted of a last kiss, soft as the touch of a feather on the lips. We kissed deep and tender for a few seconds of eternity. I couldn’t stand that painful sting of sadness and cried quietly. He kissed my forehead and told me to stay as far as I could from them.

- It’s fighting time, bloke. –said Jimmy to Ed, with his dagger raised, staring him in the eyes-

Dagger fighting is swift and vicious. The gypsy tradition calls for the two fighters to be tied together at the wrist during a knife fight until they end up cutting off the arm that is tied to theirs. But Ed and Jimmy were fighting a duel to the death.

The sound of metallic clanging impacts of blades clashing and their fast breathing filled the room. I closely followed every single movement they made with anxious eyes. Both acted and reacted fast, knowing the first good strike would kill or disable the other. Both could inflict a killing wound. But mutual killing was not the desired result of the fight,

Options for defence were limited. Everything happened in fractions of seconds. Ed tried to confuse Jimmy feinting cleverly three or four times real fast. Jimmy stepped back quickly; he slipped; stumbled; his dagger dropped down to the floor and he fell onto his back.

Ed sat on Jimmy’s chest, raising his dagger to stab it into his heart. For a split second, Jimmy’s eyes stared into my eyes and I spotted the most horrible fear: Fear of cruelty. Fear of pain. Fear of death.

Ed pulled a face at him. His expression was cruel and merciless. If we could only forget a past that cannot be changed. But the wrong sticks in our memory like a needle.

Jimmy continued to gaze into my eyes with his piercing look and I was overcome by his panic. I stepped in and stopped the fight seizing Ed’s arm.

- Please, don’t kill him. -I said with a low voice-.

Ed stared at me with puzzlement.

- What? Are you crazy or something? –he asked-
- No. Let him live, Ed. Forgiveness will be your part of the deal. You will let go off the need for revenge and your negative thoughts of bitterness and resentment –I answered- . And forgetfulness will be your part, Jimmy. What you did was a disgusting abuse of power. Enough is enough. It should sound fair to you.

Jimmy sighed deeply, relieved but confused. I had just taken a major load off his mind; nevertheless, he didn't feel completely safe. Ed lowered his arms and put the dagger back into the sheath. He looked at me with puzzlement.

- Who do you think you are, honey? Devil’s advocate? I'm a big boy now and I can solve my problems without your help! –said Ed, very angry-
- Killing other people? Is this the way you solve your problems?
- He started! –shouted Ed, pointing at Jimmy-.
- No. You started it accepting the deal! Be positive and stop acting like a kid!

And this was all the thanks I got.

I got out of the house slamming the door and walked back to civilization, leaving them behind.

"Angel (lust)" Joe Jackson.

The fine art of murder

I started having grotesque and depressive visions of the future. Happiness was a butterfly that seemed to have flown away. I gazed into his eyes, sadly realising he had found me but I would be losing him forever: I was convinced that he was going to be killed. I would become a dark thing then and fade away soon, dragged down into a gloomy existence.

I frightened myself thinking that next time Jimmy Moon would visit the house I would poke through the kitchen drawers looking for a steak knife and stab him to death with malice aforethought. I was taken aback by my wild imagination. To see my killer instincts emerge so easily made me doubt about my sanity. Some might disagree, but I have always been a decent -and essentially peaceful- woman, and murder considered as one of the fine arts had never been at the top of my priority list until that day.

I couldn’t help wondering what’s inside the mind of a killer to make him/her lose the train of thought and end up believing that human life is not sacred. Mental illness? Brain damage? Or maybe just a black, evil soul?

Psychiatrists say that the instinct to kill lies dormant in our mind but can be triggered by events. Each and everyone of us have the capacity to commit murder in a fit of diseased madness. We would all be astonished to find out what a harmless individual is capable of doing in situations of extreme horror, panic or anxiety.

I asked myself how easy it would be to take someone’s life away. Not just in a manner of speaking, but in actual truth. I wondered what it would be like to have that strong feeling of hate towards someone to the extent of feeling compelled to commit murder, like I was feeling about Jimmy Moon, that obnoxious blackmailer who used questionable debt collection methods.

- It’s just not fair –I said with tears in my eyes, breaking the silence in the room-.
- Life wasn’t meant to be fair, sweetheart. But I can’t let this happen to you. That’s what’s really unfair. This is why I’ll offer Jimmy to keep me and set you free.
- What? Do you really think he will accept that? He will kill you on the spot! Pay him! –I cried, alarmed-.
- No. I won’t pay him. And he won’t kill me.

He kissed me tenderly, and whispered:

- But if he does, love… I thank fate for allowing us to meet. The time we’ve spent together has been worth every minute.

Tears rolled down my face. That sounded like he was going to go forever. For all sad words of tongue or pen, those were the saddest I had ever heard.

- He will kill you, Ed! Why don’t you want to pay him?
- Because I’ve already paid an inconceivable amount of money for having made an unintentional mistake. After being lied about, intimidated, defamed, stalked, harassed and extorted for money over the years, I decided I’ve had it.
- I didn’t know he did all that to you.
- He actually did more than that; he caused the wreck of the ship where my second wife and eight-month old son died long ago. Now he has kidnapped you. He kills, destroys and burns everything I love. I’ve paid more than enough for that bloody license.

I could see the pain in his eyes and looked down.

- Tell me you’re not offering him to take my place.
- Ok Leni, I guess you should know what my real purpose is: I came here to rescue you and kill him. People like Jimmy Moon deserve death.

I was asking myself a zillion questions. Among them: Is it fair to claim for the principle of ‘an eye for an eye’ in a society that’s supposed to be considered as an enlightened civilisation? Is it right to respond to crime by committing more of the same?

My parents always taught me not to fight back when offended, and I learned that a law based on revenge serves no purpose. But ‘Many who live deserve death, and some who die deserve life’, said Gandalf to Frodo as he wished death upon Gollum in Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring, and I totally agree with that quote. And yet… who are we to play God and decide about other people’s life and death?

But I was bound and determined: I would kill Jimmy Moon with my own hands. Even if I had no plan, if would find the way. Things just couldn’t go on like that. So I kissed Ed, got up and walked to the kitchen, where I opened the cutlery drawer and looked for the sharpest knife.

- What are you doing, Leni? Come here, lay beside me, sweetheart. –said Ed from the bed-.

I wrapped the knife in my long skirt’s pocket and went back to him. He was amazingly relaxed and confident. Intuition told me the worst was yet to come.

- What the hell is this? –he asked, touching the knife in my pocket-
- Just in case. –I answered with a low voice-.
- Just in case what? –he asked, very serious-
- Just in case Jimmy Moon would come here to kill you.
- Leni, that’s sweet and I appreciate, but he can kill you six different ways before you hit the floor. So be a nice gal and give me that knife. You can hurt yourself.
- No way! – I said, grabbing the knife with my hands-

As we were discussing that matter, the door opened suddenly and we saw Jimmy Moon’s cadaverous face appear.

- Uh oh, what do we have here… a pair of lovebirds… -he chuckled, removing his black gloves-

Ed stood up and whispered:

- Leni, we’re in a difficult situation right now. Hide. I’ll be looking for you.
- No. I want to be with you.
- Leni, please. Look for a place to hide. I will have to fight very soon. You heard me, Leni. Hide or go away.
- I’m not leaving you alone here.
- Go before he kills the two of us.
- Never.
- Why are you so stubborn? Ok, then stay real close behind me and don’t move.

I latched on to him and shivered with fear. It was a stupid decision, I know, but I wanted so much to protect him that I didn’t realize how stupid I was being. Ed had been caught unawares and was too worried about taking care of me. Jimmy slowly slid his dagger out. The scrubbing sound of the blade against the metal rim of the sheath ran chills down my spine. He stared at Ed and threatened him with an evil smile.

I looked at Jimmy with my eyes full of rage.

- Aww… what a cute little fighter! She’s spirited! Do you think you can save your man from the mean bad guy? I don’t think so! –he shouted, staring at me, his fingers gently tickling my cheek-

He laughed, and I became furious.

- Hey, keep your hands off her! –shouted Ed, as he pushed him-
- You still owe me something, bastard.-said Jimmy-
- I’ll wipe that smile off your face!!!

Soon they were engaged in a fierce fight. A deathly silence was followed by the sound of their daggers clashing. I remained unnoticed and started moving back to the other side of the room, grabbing firmly the kitchen knife in my pocket. I moved slowly and quietly until I was behind Jimmy.

Suddenly I felt that terrible rage and the unstoppable urge to finish him. I took my knife and slit his throat brutally as soon as he lowered his guard. Jimmy’s thick black blood splashed my face and neck like a jet. He became pale, staggered towards the door whispering ‘Bitch’. Then, he collapsed on the floor shook with violent convulsions and finally died on a puddle of blood.

I washed my face and hands. I couldn't stand my clothes, all blood-stained. I had to remove them.

I let the knife fall off my hand. I had killed a man. I was a murderer. I felt sick.

"Tranquilize" The Killers + Lou Reed

Supernatural business (II)

My future didn’t look very promising: I would be in solitary confinement in a beautiful house, in a deserted gloomy place that looked like a frozen field in the middle of nowhere, until Ed decided to pay the amount of money he owed to Jimmy Moon for his physician licence. The funny thing was that the offence took place around 1790. This is what happens when you spend your time with supernatural beings: it’s crazy festival all the time.

Jimmy kept talking with his threatening voice.

- Ed will try everything to rescue you. If he does and I catch him here without the money… he’s finished. –he said, making a cut-throat gesture-. I will visit you from time to time, just to check that you’re still here. My servants will bring you everything you might need. Is there anything else I can do for you?
- Yes. You can set me free.
- Nice try, but no. I won’t.
- Could I have just one more thing, then?
- Speak. –he nodded-
- I presume I can’t have a laptop and internet connection, supposing you know what that is, so I’d just like to have a notebook and a pencil, if it’s possible. I’ll die if I can’t write.
- Of course I fucking know what a laptop and internet connection is, Leni! I may be decrepit, but I’m not stupid. But it’s impossible to have that here: This is the eighteenth century. Welcome to the Age of Reason.

The Age of Reason? My arse! Looked like it was The Age of Madness and Insanity instead.

Jimmy took a small notebook and a pencil from a cabinet and pushed them towards me on the table. Then, he drew an imaginary circle in the air with his fingers and finally vanished in the air. I really worried about Ed.

I looked at myself and saw in total amazement how my black robe and torn miniskirt were getting blurred, slowly disappearing and being replaced by peasant woman’s clothes.

A nightgown-like chemise made of white linen, a black corset and a full skirt with multiple petticoats underneath suddenly materialised on me. Under my skirts, I had knee-high stockings held with garters. My hair was tied up into a bun that I undid immediately. I looked like a country girl... of the eighteenth century! And I was even wearing wood clogs! I collapsed on the floor in fright.


I took a deep breathe, held it, then released. I had to do that four consecutive times before I could calm down and think properly. When I recovered, I poked around the kitchen cupboards, where I found a coffee maker and some sweet tidbits. I decided to indulge myself and forget my ordeal preparing a delicious cream coffee with foam and chocolate flakes. I sat on the rocking chair by the fireplace, wrapped myself in the patchwork blanket, sipped from my hot coffee cup and started thinking. I had traveled in space and time, or so it seemed. What a mad world.

I found a book on a shelf: “A woman’s life in the sixteenth century Elizabethan Burdishland”, by Meredith McVitie. It consisted basically of unceasing labor, revolving around husband and family; but they started managing the household, running farms and home businesses.

And some funny anecdotes: women rode astride in these days, not side saddle. And what was even more shocking to the rest of the countries: they greeted visitors with a full kiss on the lips. The ambassadors were shocked. Foreign visitors wrote home to their friends, saying ‘Come’. This was quite different to what I always imagined them to be like. This was probably lost history, and as per the author's opinion could be considered as women’s liberation at an early stage.

During the 18th century, the Age of Reason changed some rules. Intelligence and reason were admired. Education was extended to the women of the upper and middle classes; however, science and philosophy were meant only for men. Women were offered training in skills like music, drawing, singing or painting; very useful disciplines for modern life. But a seed –that would result in the revolutionary feministic movements- was being planted. That was probably Ed and Jimmy’s time background.

I was distracted with this reading when suddenly I spotted an empty glass bottle at the kitchen and had a hell of an idea.

I took the pencil and a piece of paper from the notebook that Jimmy had given to me, and wrote:

"Ed,

I’m dead scared. I don’t even know where I am. Jimmy Moon said if he finds you here and you don’t pay what you owe to him, he will do something horrible to you. So please don't look for me.

Leni."

I rolled up the piece of paper as tightly as possible; put the cork into the bottle; rushed to the door and left the house. It was terribly cold outside. A persistent thin chilling rain was falling and the mist laid low about the house and over the fields.

I walked towards the river, kneeled on the riverbank and made sure the bottle floated. Then, I dropped it in the water, expecting it would reach Ed someday and quickly walked back to the house to do the hardest part: the waiting.

I blew out the candles and laid in bed. I covered myself with the blanket and suddenly felt a presence near me. I didn’t dare move to see who it was. I could just see what seemed to be the silhouette of a man wrapped in a black cape. I covered my face with the blanket, as if that could save me the panic. I felt some weight on the mattress. He lifted the blanket on the other side of the bed and approached me radiating intense warmth.

I was drawn to him and couldn’t resist getting closer, yet we didn’t touch each other. The bed was so warm I couldn’t believe it. The closer we got, I realised we would touch some part of our bodies at any moment. Suddenly my right feet gently bumped into his leg. You guessed it. It was not an accident: I did it on purpose.

- Sorry –I whispered-.

But no, I wasn’t sorry at all. I just wanted to hear his voice but he didn’t say anything. I couldn’t see his face and didn’t dare to get up and light a candle. So I had to use the rest of my senses. I felt a familiar fresh scent of grass, wind, sea waves and it brought to my mind a memory of sandstorms.

I plucked up my courage and reached out my hand to touch his face. His lips felt familiar to me, so sensual and soft. As I touched them, he kissed my fingertips. I withdrew my hand, shy and scared, but delighted at the same time.

I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was smiling in the dark. Deprived of sight and sound, I explored his body with my hands: he had big forehead; long nose; pronounced chin; long soft hair. I stroke his chest and ran my fingers down his belly, down his thighs, deliberately avoiding the most sensitive parts of his body. Then he took my right hand and placed it where he wanted me to touch him. I was nicely surprised. He was terribly hard, and that excited me big time.

I pulled my hand away and rolled onto my side. He got closer and spooned with me. He actually held me so tight from behind that there was not an inch of my skin which would not be in contact with his skin. I felt his breath on my neck and shoulders tickling me very softly. His lips brushed my left shoulder sweetly. He pushed my hair to the right side and licked my left earlobe.

I started moaning quietly. I didn’t dare to make any noise. He licked my hairline too and that was good enough tot make me moan loudly again. He cupped my right breast and I sighed deeply with pleasure as his left hand rested innocently on my pussy, not doing anything. Not yet.

I was so wet. I felt his stone hard dick rub the gap between my buttcheeks. He pressed himself against my back and left a wet trace on my lower back.

I moaned again and turned my face to see him, but I couldn't. It was pitch-dark.

- Who are you? -I asked-

Then he whispered into my ear:

- You’re disappointing me, Leni. Can’t you recognise my dick in the dark?

I turned back immediately and faced him.

- Ed! You got my message in the bottle? Jimmy won’t set me free unless you pay him. And he will kill you too. Have you got the money?
- I got your message, but I don’t have the money. I came here just to speak to Jimmy. I’ll ask him to set you free and I will take your place as a hostage.

Emiliana Torrini “Sunny Road”