My Policeman - A possible Sequel

VI - 3

My policeman got a present for me. A new CD player. He doesn't want me to be in silence when he's away. The doctor said that it's important that I have something to listen to. To distract me from the pain and the fact that I'll die soon. The first song he played to me was 'All or Nothing'. A brand-new song, he said, a proud smile playing on his lips. He told me how he got up before the dawn and waited in the lane in front of the local store to make sure to get hold of one.

As he managed to make the song start playing (he wasn't good with technic and still preferred the old, traditional things, he knew) he kneeled over me. I was confused at first. Not knowing what he was going to do or what I was supposed to do. He made sure not to rest his weight on my weak body and bent over. He softly grabbed my hands. I enjoyed my small, always cold hands in his warm, rough hands. He pulled me up from the pillows he arranged for me that morning. He kept holding one of them, the other one put he around his shoulder on his back. DUM-de, DUM-de, my trochaic heart went. And as he started to gently move his body to the rhythm of the song, I knew what he doing. He was trying to dance with me. I let go, closed my eyes and leaned my head on my policeman's warm chest. Even through the music I could hear his heartbeat. He was here. My policeman was here. With me. And we were dancing.

From that day on my policeman always put on the CD recorder when he left and he often came home with new CD's. He doesn't want me to get bored, he said. And I accepted that with a smile and the thought of him, standing in front if a huge shelve in a store and looking at all the CD's, thinking about what I might like. He never brought me anything I didn't like. I really found my love for music. If I hadn't become a painter, I would've become a musician. A pianist maybe.

But one day he forgot to put on the music before he left to walk the dog. He always already puts on the music while I'm still asleep to make sure I don't wake up alone in silence. But that day I woke up in silence. I first thought that it was still night, but I could barely see the sun peeking through the light green curtains. So, I called out for my policeman as loud as I could. And I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but it was really exhausting for me. So, after calling out his name a few times in a hoarse voice, I realised that he must have left. I knew that he'd probably come back in the next hour, but what if he really had left me.

The silence made me think about dying a lot. Was Peter Pan right by saying that death is the biggest adventure? Does rebirth exist? Will I go the heaven or hell? Have I been a good man? Have I lived my life? Will my policeman be with me while I'm leaving? Is that even relevant? Isn't dying something, you will always do alone? But I really want him to be with me. Holding my hand, maybe even kissing my head. Calming me down and whispering in my ear that it's okay. I don't want to die. Not now. Not now, when everything is finally okay. Not now, when I'm finally allowed to tell my policeman how in love I am. Not now when we finally can be together, almost free. And as I heard the key turning around in the keyhole, my policeman scrubbing his boots clean on the doormat, I suddenly realised that even death couldn't keep us apart. We'd find each other's souls in the next life and get another chance. Maybe in a life where he's the artist and I'm his policeman.

After that day he always checked twice if he had really put on the music. I know that because one morning, I was already awake when he was leaving. But I didn't manage to open my eyes or give him any other sign. I just heard how he came in, put on the music, went out, put on his jacket and shoes, came back in, wiped away a sweaty strand of hair from my forehead, placed a soft kiss there and went out again. DUM-de. DUM-de.