Entangled Souls

Chapter 4

Back in his apartment, Peter first took off his blood-stained shoes and threw them into the sink to rinse them. But he could not get rid of the thought of what had happened in his direct vicinity that day. Only now was it clear to him what little interest one has in their environment. Still, he could not take care of everyone; he thought to himself and tried to push away any rumination on things he could not control. Peter took out his cell phone and called Michael, the friend he had to put off seeing at the tennis court. Quietly, and in great detail, he recalled once more the day's events. Michael could not believe his ears.

"What kind of neighbors do you have, or was someone trying to nix him?" Michael asked.

"No clue. Now I have to go to the police to sign my statement. Maybe I'll learn more then."

With these words, he ended the conversation and set out by foot on the way to the nearby police station.

The old Victorian building was very beautiful to look at from the outside, were a large shield with the word "Police" not blaring from the facade. Although summertime temperatures were dominating outside, it was uncomfortably cold inside the building. Peter went up the steps which led to a type of reception desk. Two uniformed policemen received him and directed him to the second floor, to Door 5. He primly knocked on the door, until he heard a "Please come in," from inside. As it seemed, he was already expected. The same officer who shut the door on him at his neighbor’s apartment was sitting in the room and asked Peter to take a seat opposite him. Peter sat down and felt an acute uneasiness swell in him. As though he were here because he had done something. But this was not the case. He was only witness to a crime. Finally the officer began to speak.

"We are treating this as attempted suicide," the officer informed him with his deep, pleasant voice which did not seem to fit him.

"The gunshot residue on the right hand definitely stem from the gun lying next to the victim. That is why we now believe that there was no foul play involved here."

"Will he live?" interrupted Peter.

"He will come through, but he is not fit for questioning right now. Once we have personally spoken with him, we will know more and can definitively file the case away as attempted suicide."

"Case closed, patient can examine how to continue living with his problem," the thought swam through Peter's head. Of course it must not interest the police why a young man such as his neighbor would want to punch a hole in his head with a sawed-off shotgun. For them it was a case like many others. But Peter would not let this just go away. Although up until now he never paid much attention at all to his neighbor who must be around the same age as him, he still had to know what had moved him to take such a drastic measure. He decided to take on the job of learning more about his neighbor. Tomorrow he would begin his research. He had not studied psychology for nothing and maybe this topic could even be the thesis he soon had to tackle. He was in his last year of school and wanted to get it over with as smoothly as possible. He could not ask more of his parents financially. In their opinion they had already poured far too much money into an education that would do nothing for the future. Temping was not an option for him. He would have no time at all for such a time-intensive activity. That is why he now had to seize the last few laps as strongly as possible. And this John and his problems may be a good opportunity.

The officer, whose name he had already forgotten, pulled him back into reality.

"Then you just have to sign here."

He slid the statement report across the desk to Peter and held up a pen to him. Peter took them and scratched his signature onto the formal document, without reading through it.

"Now then. Should we have any further questions, then we know how to get a hold of you. But I do not think that this will be necessary."

Peter stood up, shook his hand in farewell, and left the police building. Only outside in the fresh, warm air did the unsettling feeling that latched onto him behind those walls leave him.

+++

The meeting with Rosalie went much better than expected. They met in front of the cinema where they wanted to begin the evening with a film. He was not once forced into watching some chick flick. Although something schmaltzy and romantic would not at all have been inconvenient for him this evening, letting him plant the first few seeds of closeness. But with the fast-paced action thriller that they surprisingly picked out, he was able to get such kitschy meddlesomeness out of his head. She was so captivated by the film that she took no notice of him during its entire two-hour duration. He, on the other hand, was so fascinated by her that he more or less focused on her than concentrated on the movie. Yet again there was this certain something that she gave off and could not be put into words. She beguiled him in such a way that he never knew before.

After the film was over, Rosalie suggested getting a bite to eat.

"I'm starving, I could eat an entire pig," she let him know unambiguously.

He laughed.

"You delicate creature, eating a whole pig?" he joked. Because his wallet was rather sparse, he had to find a restaurant that would be both filling and not cost much. And he already had an idea. Together they enjoyed a McMenu at McDonald's, with Big Macs, a double-order of fries, and two apple pies for dessert. Full and content, they left the temple of gluttony half an hour later.

"So, can we say no to the pig for now?" asked Peter, smirking. He dared not ask the inevitable question: "My place or yours?" After the day's events with his neighbor, he was not particularly keen on going to his place. He had not explained anything of the situation to her, as he did not want to ruin the evening for either of them. But he also did not want to lose his perfect opportunity, and so he blatantly put the question to her.

"Your place?"

"Someone's blunt," she answered cheekily.

"Who has any time left to lose today," he smiled, and nudged her gently in the side.

She took his hand and led him to her car.

"Okay then, head toward 7 Franklin Street in Downtown. I will assume position as your personal GPS."

"Not a bad area, milady. To battle. I hope I won't have to face any mothers-in-law?"

He accelerated and found himself in joyous expectation for the night that lay before him.