A teddy bear, I guess. A big one, bigger than me actually, with thin and coarse brown fur. Not fluffy at all. It always felt cold. I didn't hug him very often. I was more content with having him sitting in a corner, strong and quiet, guarding me at night. I gave him one of my nicer toy cars once to appease any feeling of being used. I was afraid I'd lose my only friend. Go figure.

Nathan None,

Narrow navigator, nihilistic nomad,

Neurotic nonconformist, numb

Negator.

No nuance - not nurtured,

Normalcy? Not needed.

Nations’ nadir, night’s necromancer,

Narcotizing Narcissus, near-nothing noose.

No negotiation - neutralize necessities

Notwithstanding nature.

Notice nitwits now,

Naïve neglected nobodies,

Nosediving naked.

Neither nectar nor noteworthy,

Nathan None – napalm.

(omits taste, smell, touch)

The ringing of golden bells.

A blast of sound and color, but still remote as always. And your mind is a wreck because your body can’t embrace it all. Your body, which has deserted you in such egregious ways. Muster the strength to conjecture. The breakdown of colors into different meanings, the organization of sounds into a dictionary of emotions, all painstakingly classified to suit those chemical needs that will never be satisfied.

The movie continues. The monotony is broken. A parade of people and objects unfolds and you get lost in the details and the words that flow endlessly as if to stifle any passing thoughts. You receive it all with a smile as it will be the highlight of the day. A table full of cardboard cutouts, but you digest it all with a large grin. They accommodated you and you must accommodate them.

Red flowers in her dark hair. She came after all. You hear her voice. It echoes in the room as she moves in and out of sight. And you wonder - if I can't reach her, if I can't grasp the whole of her, how will I understand it all?

The cyclist apologized and offered to give Matthew his phone number. Matthew was annoyed. He would miss the meeting for sure. The car was in bad shape. The windshield was broken and the hood had deep scratches. He gave the cyclist a notebook and told him to write his information there. He had little to do but wait the arrival of the police. It was 12:45. The lunch was at 13:30. It was all done for. All he could do is phone Phillip, his boss.

“Don’t worry, Matthew,” said the raspy voice on the other end of the phone. “I cannot be there to take over, but I’ll find someone who can. Take good care of yourself and let me know if you need anything.”

Two hours passed. Matthew called Phillip again to let him know the matter had been settled and to ask for an update on the meeting.

“Who did you put in?”

“Sergei.”

“Sergei?! OK, I guess. Hope everything went well.”

“It went great, actually. He closed it,” replied Phillip over the background echo of a sky jet. “The client had some feedback and Sergei dealt with it.”

“Oh?”

“They basically said they want to continue with Sergei.”

“What?!”

“Matthew, her words were particularly strong. She finds you cold and abrasive. And you didn’t pay attention to her feedback. … Matthew, are you still there? Listen, we can discuss this later. What is important is that you are in good health.”

“Her feedback is full of requests that cannot be achieved on this platform.”

“Nevertheless, we can try to work something out. Maybe have another meeting with the development team. Tomorrow.”

“It’s not my contract anymore,” said a despondent Matthew.

After a pause, Phillip said:

“How are you? Any bruises?”

“No, not really.”

“What about the cyclist?”

“What about him?”

“Is he OK?”

“I don’t know. He left on his own two feet, so I assume nothing’s broken.”

“Do you need a day off?”

Matthew didn’t know what to say.

Lynn contemplated the figurines on the table.

“I want to thank my younger self,” she said, “for outlasting the pain. I want to confront the past. Back then, I used to carry a knife. I had decided to use it if any of them attacked me, physically.”

“Boundary,” said the doctor.

“Exactly.”

“They never did.”

“Never… but I tried your exercise. To have my tormentors cross this... boundary.”

“What happens after that?”

“...I panic. I take out the knife and strike. Everywhere. Just hoping to hurt someone.”

She placed the trinkets face down one by one.

“And I finally win....”

Small drops of water started falling on the windshield. Abrams was annoyed.

“Great, just great. Beaton, what are you staring at?”

“You missed the…. I think we need to go back. This isn’t our street.”

A distracted Abrams turned the steering wheel and the car quickly changed direction.

“I can’t tell, even with directions,” said Abrams. “All these damned houses look the same.”

“Yeah. The cheaper by the hundred type,” added Beaton. A large truck parked in the driveway of one of the houses caught his attention. “The team’s already here.”

“I hope the rain won’t slow us down too much,” replied Abrams. “I need to get Tina and the kids from the airport. Six o’clock. Two weeks of peace and quiet coming to an end. You have your badge with you? Just in case of nosy neighbors.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Happy to finally see you joining our ranks as a full inspector. You’re of good stock. You deserve it.”

“Thank you very much, sir.”

“No problem. Anyway, this one’s small. No family, so no potential issues. There’s value in it, from what I can tell. Antiques and such. We keep what we like. Clean up, and then clean up. The guys are getting a cut, of course.”

Abrams parked the car in the street. Three workers were sitting on the porch.

“How long have you been here?” shouted Abrams.

“About 15 minutes,” replied one of the workers.

“Bags?”

“Got’em.”

“Great. Gentlemen, let’s begin.”

Abrams pulled out a chain full of keys from his bag.

“Number 45…. Ok.”

The foulness of the odor coming out of the house caught them by surprise. Beaton got nauseous.

“This is too much!” exclaimed one of the workers.

“Wear your masks for this one, guys,” said Abrams.

Parts of the plaster had fallen from the damp walls all over the dirty floor. In the small hallway they found an assortment of sharp agricultural instruments, all covered in what seemed like blood. In the living room, animal carcasses at various stages of decay were spread in a circle.

“Murderer?” asked Beaton.

“No.” replied Abrams. “Killed just animals. Lots of them, apparently. The smell of dead meat eventually alarmed the neighbors.”

“I’ve seen worse, I think,” said Beaton. “Remember the Perkins case? Boxes upon boxes….”

“...And granny rotting away under them. Yup. Lovely trip, that one. Guys, start by removing the… cadavers and making some room for me and Beaton to go around and assess the situation.”

Abrams looked over the furniture and the rolled up carpets as the workers moved in.

“These are pretty nice,” said Abrams. “Still in good shape. Beaton, let them do their thing here and we’ll check the bedrooms.”

Beaton agreed. The first bedroom was a mess. The mattress was torn apart and the doors of the wardrobe ripped from their hinges. A plate with rotting food and a glass with dirty red water stood on the cabinet next to the bed. The floor was completely covered with newspapers.

“Check the other one,” said Abrams.

This room was dusty but in a much better shape overall. Pictures were spread on the small bed. Beaton was anxious. He went closer with all sorts of horrible thoughts in mind. The photos turned out to be simple images of a family: father, mother and son. Beaton muttered under his breath, slightly amused: “What were you expecting, inspector?”

"Not this!" shouted Abrams in the hallway. “Focus on the dead bodies, Nick.”

“Calm down,” came the reply of one of the workers. “I’m not running away with anything.”

“We have a procedure,” Abrams replied. “Please, respect it.”

Beaton stared at photos, captivated by the details of an idyllic life, now completely gone. He put his gloves on and picked one. The father was holding the child in his arms and the woman leaned over both. It was a beautiful summer day at the beach. The pictures had been placed on items of clothing, both female and male – child size -, scarves, pieces of jewelry, school items and small toys.

“He was a real loony, wasn’t he?” said Abrams as he entered the room. “I mean, look at this. And left to his own devices. So many things wrong with this country. Anything interesting?”

“Some pieces of jewelry,” replied Beaton. “Didn’t have a chance to take a closer look.”

“Well, all goes in the bags. We’ll sort it later,” said Abrams. “If you want anything in particular, don’t wait. I’m having an agent over tomorrow evening. Everything of value will be gone after that. The money should be in our pockets by the end of the week.”

“No, I don’t think I want to keep anything,” said Beaton. “It all looks like...too much.”

By the time they finished, it was late in the afternoon and the sun was shining again. The workers loaded up the truck under Beaton’s supervision. Abrams did a final check of the rooms in the house and then came out.

“Is that everything?” Beaton asked.

“Yes, we’re good to go,” replied Abrams. “About an hour to get to the warehouse. We’re good on time. Money in a couple of days.”

“How much are they taking for this?” asked Beaton while they were driving away.

“Well,” said Abrams. “I have a system. A hierarchy set in place. It’s about the value of the merch, the value you bring and the perspective for future collaborations and growth. For example, you are now set at 15. Those guys back there are manual labor, so 10. Each, of course.”

“But is it enough?”

“Hey, don’t get greedy!”

“No, no,” replied a flustered Beaton. “What I mean is, is it enough to keep them quiet?”

“Of course. They look forward to their next pay day. Don’t worry, I will teach you how to handle all of this. I’m thinking of expanding and need a right hand to delegate things to.”

Beaton smiled.

We arrived yesterday. I’m still recovering from the plane ride. Marissa and Billy seem fine, though.

I left the hotel late this morning to join them on the beach. The road to the sand dunes is not well kept and once you get there, everyone is trying to sell you something. The weather is nice. Beats the storm season back home. There's still a small portion of natural forest left near the coastal area. The enterprising Brazilians are building hotels everywhere. But the Amazon sea! Oh, man! It stretches forever all clear and green. The river is completely gone. After only a few years. I do remember it. I did a bit of research with Esther, my first wife, on the relocation of tribes in this area. Actually, I think it was a bit further east, but it doesn’t matter. And it all looks the same now anyway. I was so happy to hear about the growing interest in my work. I plan to re-visit some of the camps during our vacation. Difficult to stomach but maybe there’s another book in there somewhere.

It’s close to noon. Billy is on the beach, building sandcastles. Marissa is flipping through a brochure, pointing out old images of lush vegetation and strange creatures. Apparently, there's a zoo nearby that has these things on display. We’ll take Billy there tomorrow. He’s absolutely thrilled about it.

I hope you are well. I’ll let you know if it’s worth coming back here.

There is nothing more important in the world than health. When things go wrong, they go wrong pretty quickly and with little warning.

First you are confused. “I’ve never seen so much blood in my stool before! Is that normal?” Then you dismiss the whole thing. “It’s transitory. Stress, that’s it. I solved it. Now back to my daily routine.” Then you get scared. “Yikes! How do I get an appointment with my doctor? Wait, what’s his phone number again?”

And you go and he gives you medication and tells you to stay on a strict diet. And you do. And … still the same. "No, I think it’s actually getting worse. Damn it! I demand to see a specialist!” The specialist probes you, proclaims you might have X and gives you medication for it. You are completely blown away by his skills. You go home and you take the medicine and almost two weeks pass and ... no change. And the medication you were given is making you nauseous, so you’re not eating enough and so you start losing weight.

Even getting out of bed becomes difficult. But, eventually, you do, and you go...straight to the emergency room. There, it is decided that you should stay in hospital. An IV is attached to you and will not leave your side for about a week. During which, yes, you will finally learn what the hell is happening and that the specialist was wrong. And now you can die happy. Well, no, but you get the picture. And things gradually improve and you are allowed to go home and then you get the bill and…. My point is: take care of yourselves.