the essence of life is love

Naamloos deel 81

In the darkness, little can be distinguished, the only sound seems to be that of tires racing hard over wet asphalt. Violins create long, slow sounds in contrast with the black. Slowly, visibility improves, a white dot that quickly becomes headlights of an oncoming car, and then the swoosh of it passing by. In the car, two eyes in the rearview mirror are focused on the back seat.

"Is he out?"

"Yes."

"Good, we're almost there. Do you have the passports?"

In the mirror, two formal-looking booklets flutter.

"Cover him with a blanket, it will look like he's really sleeping."

Not much later, a brightly lit building appears through the windshield. It looks like a gas station built over the road, it's customs. After a knock on the closed window by the driver, Omar opens it. A hand reaches in, gesturing for what everyone knows he wants to see. The documents are placed in the open hand.

"Where's the journey to?"

"Home. He has his wedding."

A smile appears on the customs officer's face as he looks at Kasim.

"Had a bachelor party?"

"Yesterday."

"I can see that. Wish him luck and prosperity. He seems to need it."

"I will."

"Safe travels."

With that, the car slowly moves forward until it stops at a man in a yellow vest who signals the car to come to him and then suddenly halts.

"Another half hour, and we'll be on the boat. Keep him under, will you?"

"No problem, boss."

The man takes a mask from under the seat and holds it against Kasim's face. Audibly, gas escapes, and the mask fogs up.

In a dark room, sparingly lit by a weak bulb on the ceiling, Elijah is pacing around. Out of anger, he doesn't know what to do, his hands are torn on the sides from hitting the wall. Occasionally, a drop of blood falls. As he walks along the wall near the door, dirty brown-red smears are visible – blood. Despair, anger, and pain are evident on his tear-stained face. Almost inaudibly, a murmur repeats like a repetitive sound.

"No, no, no..."

Nothing else can be heard, no buzz, no birds, no music. The basement is cold, and on the floor lies an old mattress with blankets. Footsteps come down a wooden staircase, and Elijah pounds his open-scarred fists on the door.

"LET ME OUT!" The key turns in the lock.

"Back, Elijah, I'm bringing your lunch."

His aunt holds a tray in her hands, behind her stands a man he doesn't know – tall, not overly broad, not really a guard, more of a cultured and polite man.

"Jacob will come to talk to you."

"Where's Kasim? What happened to him? I want to see him."

Lot says nothing, she hands the tray to the man and goes back upstairs. The basement door is locked again.

"We're alone. Eat something, you need it."

"Who are you?"

"I am Jacob Adams, I've come to talk to you and take you with me."

"Why? What's going on? Where is Kasim?"

"Who is Kasim?"

The man pretends not to know who Kasim is, even Elijah can see this.

"You know just as well as I do, my friend."

"Your friend?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Eat."

"No! Not until I know where he is, or if he's okay."

"I don't know, really. I don't know that Kasim. I'm here for you."

"Damn."

"We don't say that."

The man slaps Elijah hard on his cheek with a flat hand. In shock, he falls onto the mattress.

"Now-you-listen-well-boy. I'm-taking-you. You-obey-now! Grab-your-things-and-go-upstairs. And-no-jokes. Understood!"

In amazement, Elijah can only nod, stands defeated, and walks to the stairs. At the top, he politely knocks on the door. When it opens, two strange men are waiting to escort him to the front door. Lot hugs him, kisses his cheek.

"This is for the best now."

Then she pushes a bag into his hand and lets him go outside. It's dark, it seems to be the middle of the night. There is no one else, only the three men around him until he gets into the dark car. When he looks back, there is no one standing in the doorway to bid him farewell. He is alone again.