Irrevocably Lost In The Twilight

Vicissitudes

Pullman Hotel Paris, Summer 2020 France

"Good evening, Sir."

"Good evening, Patrick. How are you?"

"Very well, sir. Thank you."

I took a magazine from the shelf and acted like I was a tourist. I sighed thinking that life was smiling at me and finally, I could think of a future. What the future meant, I was just starting to understand. I thought of her, and images emerged in my mind: her face, her gestures - especially the involuntary ones, which made her even more attractive and simultaneously more inexplicable. However, even if I could sometimes understand her gestures and expressions, I still could not understand her reasoning. I wanted to believe that she loved me. But would it last?

Could she love me for life? Until death do us part?

"Sir! Something was filed yesterday for you," said Patrick as he turned back to his desk and looked at a small package. "I told the postman that you were not here and you'd be back tomorrow."

"Hmm!" He had surprised me and relieved me, at least temporarily of the thoughts and anxieties that were torturing my heart. I nodded and he continued to scribble in a notebook without paying me any more attention. I waited; I felt that he was going to say something else.

"You want dinner in your room, Sir?" he continued in a whisper.

"Yes, Patrick. Thank you. Good night."

"Good night to you too, Sir."

I headed to the elevator while flipping through a magazine and deciphering the moods of the tourists who were at the reception desk, to find perhaps a clue. From a draft of air passing through the open door leading to the bar I caught whiff of a scent that I knew well. I followed it, sniffing the air occasionally, and I stopped on the first step, leading to level 1. The smell quickly evaporated, replaced by another one which I hated!

Oh! Someone who loves garlic! Forget it! Don't bother following a trail that is out of date! Not tonight, anyway!

I turned back toward the elevator, waiting on the ground floor and silently the doors opened. The elevator car was lined with red velvet. A shimmering gold mirror inside and its coppery frame reflected a distorted image of me. A singing voice announced that I had reached my floor.

Focused on this untimely change of situation, I entered the hallway. The thick carpet made my footsteps inaudible.

What was she doing now? Was she thinking of me? I concentrated on an image of her that I had memorized. And smiling, I followed this picture that came to life before my eyes. Amazed, I watched it like a movie and discovered her, opening the doors of her closet and searching, impatient to find something. She always had this wrinkle between the eyebrows and her mouth which formed a straight line of discontent. Standing up, her hands on her hips, she looked at mountains of clothes. My mind had established a certain connection with her. I could hardly do that before. This time, I succeeded!

I stood frozen at the front door of my room, and I took out the card that served as a password to open the door to the suite which I occupied on the top floor. The package was there, on the coffee table, near the coat rack, and the dinner was placed on the table in front of the large bay window, through which the enlightened Paris displayed its splendor. I tore off the paper after checking the address.

Of course, it came from the local post office. So classic.

I already knew that I would find a mobile phone inside. I put down the package, without opening it, and took my suitcase from the closet. From the inner bag, I pulled out a tiny device used to create tracer scramblers and decode specific encryption. Affixed to the side with a pathetic piece of scotch tape was one more interesting thing: a small rectangle the color of my flesh intended to be bonded precisely to the outer ear. This piece of skin that I held between my fingers was a headset.

I did not want to take any risks, even though it was likely that the phone would be clean. I turned it on and set it up so that it would detect the incoming number location and pass only the first call. I opened the package and put its content on the bed. It was a phone, as I expected. I connected my toy. As soon as it found the network, it would ring. I placed it on the table, and I went on the balcony to watch the city.

A magnificent sight! At night, Paris gave the impression that another life was possible. One that was rich, deeply moving and dangerous. So dangerous! I thought again of Alma and I immediately became grumpy because she was away from me. I hoped that nothing could change her mind. That nothing could separate us.

The vibrating phone stopped the flow of my thoughts. I returned to the room, closing the glass door. The call passed directly to the device, and a familiar voice was like a whisper in my ear. I smiled for one second.

"Good evening, Flyer."

My body stiffened and my senses went on high alert. The code name that was used meant that the situation had spun out of control and that I had to act.

"Good evening."

I saw where the call was coming from, which matched my suspicions perfectly.

"How was dinner?"

Angry, I glanced at the dishes that adorned the table.

"I did not have time."

"Ah, that's good then! As I'm in town, we can have dinner together."

"With pleasure. Give me fifteen minutes."

"See you soon."

Disgusted, I considered the phone by turning it between my fingers. Again, my life would change course. I threw it in the corner and went into the bathroom. The weight of the last few years and my memories were crushing me. I was overwhelmed. I took off my shirt, threw it on the floor as well as my pants. I turned on the cold-water tap and a stream of chilly water slapped me at full power. I forgot the time.

When I regained my senses, I turned off the tap and I wrapped myself with a towel. Water dripped from my hair onto my chest and the carpet, but I paid no attention. Only Alma was important to me and that single thought brought me the peace I needed to continue this mission.

I could not even get a day off!

I threw the blankets on the floor and I lay on the bed. The smell of food prevented me from focusing. I got up and gathered the dishes and placed them outside my room. I grinned and hung the gold cardboard Please do not disturb sign, lettered in red ink, on the doorknob.

Yes, that's it. Forget Me!

I slammed the door silently. All was quiet in here. Everything. Except the inside of my skull! I threw myself back on the bed and closed my eyes.