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Blixa
Paris -- D'Orsay Museum
"Maman! Regarde la dame, maman!" The little girl cried excitedly, pulling the young mother toward a big painting. "Que-est qu'elle a autour du cou?"
The blond woman attentively studying the Gaugin, turned her head, irritated by the shrill voice and her eyes widened in awe. Forgotten were the natives, the statues and the white horses. Entranced, she headed toward the painting now in front of her.
"Que-est ce qu'elle a autour du cou?" the little girl asked again. It was the image of a jungle, in the middle of which a feminine form blew a flute. At first sight, only the outline of the plentiful figure and her long hair were clearly visible, but getting closer, two half-opened eyes sparkled in the dark face. The full moon was high in the sky lightening the snakes dancing at the woman's feet.
"La charmeuse de serpents, 1907 -- Henri Rousseau le Douanier," She slowly read the brass plate under the painting.
The snake charmer.
All of a sudden, the voices around her grew silent, there was no sound except for the leaves rustling in the moonlight and the quiet hiss of the snakes. For a moment, the woman felt like she has been pulled inside the painting, just in front of that enigmatic figure. It was the last sensation before darkness claimed her and she collapsed on the floor.
"Madame?" Someone was calling her, but it was like the voice came from the end of a tunnel "Madame?"
Finally, she managed to open her eyes, peering at the worried faces floating upon her. One of the museum employees gently took her by the arm, helping her to sit up. "Vous allez bien madame?"
"Pardon?" Her voice croaked.
"Are you fine?"
"Yes...yes. Merci."
Without even knowing why, Alex Barnes jumped to her feet and run away from those disturbing eyes staring at her from another world's threshold.
Cascade, Washington
Jim Ellison absent-mindedly closed the heavy book, throwing it with no particular care on the couch beside him. Outside the window, the rain was pouring down changing the streets into raging streams. Suddenly realizing that he was hungry, the sentinel headed for the fridge, only to find it utterly empty. Well, the entire loft was basically no more than an empty space. During his territoriality crisis he'd decided that his apartment was way too oppressive, cluttered as it was of useless things, so he'd packed the surplus and transferred it to the basement. And, apparently, the "useless things" category had also included his roommate's belongings. He'd packed all of Blair's stuff in boxes and piled them up beside the door before he'd invited him to leave.
I needed space.
It had worked, because now he had all the space he might want. Blair was no longer there. His hyperactive friend, shaman and little brother had gone in silence. Forever. Jim sat again, trying not to think, hoping to find an escape from his memories. Her. He'd allowed her to take him. He'd served Blair to Alex on a silver platter. And she hadn't hesitated. And an innocent person had paid the price for his mistakes. Full of rage, the cop grabbed the book and flung it against the opposite wall. The volume fell to the floor opening to a page showing a big picture. It was the only thing left in the apartment that had belonged to his roommate. Who knew how, it had escaped Jim's methodical comb-out. The day after the burial, when he and Simon had wearily sat on the couch, staring at the depressingly clouded sky, he'd let an empty glass slip from his fingers and leaning over to pick it up, he'd found the book. "Modern painting," was the title on the cover. From the couch, Jim's eyes focused on the picture of a jungle in the middle of which a woman blew a flute surrounded by snakes. The howling of a wolf in the distance broke the melody. Blinking, Jim tried to shift his attention, but discovered he couldn't do it, that his eyes were riveted to the picture. The breeze blowing among the trees mitigated the heat of the tropical night, lulling the birds sleeping on the branches and cooling his sweat. Suddenly, the hoarse cry of a crow brought him back to reality. Maybe it had been some kind of zone-out or maybe an hallucination due to the previous days lack of real food, but for a short moment he'd felt like he really was in front of the puzzling figure in the painting. A series of insistent taps on the balcony door made him turn. There stood a crow, and it was staring at him. The animal croaked once, then took flight heading toward the ocean.
Cascade, Washington -- The docks
Craa.
Shrieked the crow as he lit down on Blair's shoulder. The young man ignored him, concentrating on the poster glued to one of the walls of the old warehouse. "The snake charmers," the rock band was called, performing on November 2, 1991 at Vincent's, a small club not far from the docks. A corner of the poster had came off and flapped idly in the breeze puffing through the wide-open front gate.
Craa.
"Sorry baby, it's not your painting."
The weird pink and white bird in the bottom left corner oddly contrasted with the dark colors of the rest of the painting. The sound of a fight between what seemed to be two big cats entered his mind making his attention shift from the woman's melody to the background noises.
Craa.
"What do you want?" he icily asked the crow who insisted on remaining perched on his shoulder.
The bird only stared at him and in those big black eyes Blair couldn't see nothing but a pale distortion of himself.
My body and my soul are two separated entities.
"What do you want me to do?"
Craa.
Jim remembered a legend Blair had once told him, and they'd even made a movie about it. For many tribes the crow represented the animal spirit carrying souls to the other side. But sometimes, an unfair death made the crow bring back the soul, and the body with it, to redress the wrong... to re-establish justice. He shook his head, but the picture of that crow on the balcony, tiny raindrops on his glossy black feathers still remained.
If you came back to bring justice... then find Alex Barnes and punish her as she deserves.
~RING~
The discarded phone on the floor near the couch startled him. "Ellison."
"Hello Jim," A soft voice purred on the other end of the line.
"What do you want?!"
"Why don't we meet somewhere? We've so many things to discuss about."
"Go to Hell, bitch!"
"Eaasy Jiim," Alex Barnes smiled, clearly amused, "what's wrong with you?"
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you have to kill him?"
"But that's obvious... I didn't need him anymore."
"You'll pay for it dearly. You'd better not expect a trial..."
"Jim, Jim... now don't be so rash... you'd better not forget I still have one of the two canisters of nerve gas. Wouldn't you want an unfortunate accident to happen to this nice town, would you?"
"Let's hear then... what do you want?"
"You. We are meant to be together. We could do great things... but unfortunately I know it's not going to happen. Your sense of duty... pooh! So I decided I'll be satisfied enough with killing you, I mean, you can never have everything! But look at the bright side of things... you'll soon join your dear professor. What do you say?"
"Where and when!"
Before she could answer, the sharp noise of something shattering caught the detective's attention. "What the..." he heard Alex shriek. Then the croak of a crow broke the sudden silence.
"Do you know what that means, Alex? It's not over yet... you're about to learn a hard lesson."
"What are you saying?"
"That you left behind you a restless soul waiting for revenge."
The woman probably thought he was talking about himself. Still, she felt her skin crawl every time she looked at the bird pecking at the shards of broken pot. "Yeah...Yeah. Meet me at the old pier in half an hour, just behind the warehouse number fifteen. Obviously alone, I'll sense back-up. Only you and I... a romantic date by the ocean."
Then she hung up with a delighted laughter.
Back at the docks
It was a dark and stormy night, just to remain in the literary cliches, Blair mused as he walked close to the scraped walls, trying to protect himself from the persistent rain. During his wandering he had met no more than three people: two drunks in a doorway and a prostitute walking back and forth mindless of the storm. The young woman run toward him, throwing her arms around his neck. "Hi! Do you remember me?"
"Ziggy."
"Yess! Why are you around in this kind of weather? You'll catch your death..." But she suddenly clamped her mouth shut, blushing.
"I guess it's a bit late for that," He recalled her.
"Oops, I forgot. I suppose it means you can't get sick..."
"I suppose so."
"It's my last night, you know? I'm tired of this rotten weather! Tomorrow Ziggy Stardust takes the first train heading South and leaves this town. What do you say, should I find myself a decent job and get married?"
Blair shrugged with a smile. "Good luck, I'm sure the producers will give you the leading role you've always dreamed about... so you'll become a famous star and you'll make a mint of money!"
"Yeah! I hope so... and you?"
"Last night for me as well. My duty is almost over."
"Then you'll leave... you'll go back to the realm of dead, I mean."
"More less. I would have restored the balance, at least for a while... maybe one day you'll happen to give hospitality to another tramp accompanied by a crow and you'll remember me."
"And you'll watch over me."
"Always and forever."
Blair hugged her tight, then resumed walking.
"And a murder of crows did circle round. First one, then the others flapping blackly down."
Alex turned the radio off and resumed watching the outside. She would kill Ellison... then she would sell the gas and, most important, she would be rich and live happily ever after as they said at the end of all the fairy tales.
Craa.
Came a gloomy call... the crow stared at her, perched on a streetlight. She wouldn't swear, but its eyes looked blue. A shudder ran down her spine.
A restless soul looking for vengeance.
Footsteps from the other side of the deserted road brought her attention back to reality.
Jim felt two presences but heard only one heartbeat. Alex was sitting in the only car and was staring at him. Yet, she wasn't the only one who was observing him. "Blair," He hopefully whispered. But no answer came.
Craa.
The crow cocked his head and took flight, vanishing into the night. The door opened and the woman got off with the grace of her spirit guide, the jaguar, placing herself in front of him gun in hands.
"Hi Jim."
But she looked nervous, her eyes kept darting around as if she felt watched by something she obviously couldn't define. "Alex..."
"I'm sorry to be in such a hurry, but Paris is waiting for me... I have to meet a very wealthy person there," She smiled as her fingers started to twitch on the trigger.
Craa.
The crow circled above her once then it dived. When Alex tried to hit it with the gun's barrel, the bird swerved and landed on a familiar figure's shoulder.
"Blair," Both sentinels said at the same time, one with pure joy, the other with hatred and a touch of fear. The young man didn't answer, or approach. Cold black eyes glittered with a feral expression in his pale face.
"That's... it's not possible... I have to be dreaming."
"What if I'm dreaming you?" the anthropologist returned "Maybe this is the last dream of a dead man. Or maybe it's the woman in the painting who's dreaming all of us. What do you think?"
"This isn't happening."
It happened in flash, instead. A moment before, Blair was a blurry shape at the entrance of the alley, the next, his hands were cupping Alex's temples. "Or maybe Alex, we're nothing but motes in the dream of someone so much bigger than us..."
The woman wriggled out of the hold and furiously drew backward, pointing the gun toward the young man with trembling hands.
"Go ahead, shoot me... but can you really kill a dead man?"
The bullet left the barrel and traveled through Blair's wide open palm, embedding in the wall behind his shoulder.
"No!" Jim yelled, trying to fling himself against the other sentinel.
"Try again," the young man whispered as the wound closed, leaving the flesh intact.
"It's impossible!"
In a blink, Blair was near the sentinel again, and, without notice, kissed her lips with a soft touch.
"Farewell Alex," he whispered with a smile as the woman screamed. A wild cry, ending in utter silence. It was Alex Barnes' last reaction, she spent the rest of her life in a psych ward, until the day she suicided.
"Blair," Jim stepped forward to hug his guide, but the young man stopped his gesture stretching an arm toward him.
"Don't touch me."
"Blair..."
"You must not touch me. I'm dead."
"But..."
"But I'm here? Is that what you are going to say? Yes, it's true, I'm here. But not for long. My duty in this world is over... it's time to move on."
"You can't leave!" Jim sounded like a man on the verge of panic.
"But I can't stay either. The crow will bring my soul back to the other side... and the body will simply go along."
"I need you! Why don't you get it?!"
"I'm sorry... I can't stay any longer. I'm really sorry," And he turned to leave, trying to hide his tears.
"Blair!"
"Go back home, Jim. And forget me. Don't worry... it wasn't your fault. It was bound to happen... I've already forgiven you, you have to let it go now..."
Craa.
In a bright flash, he was gone.
It's dawn in Cascade, the rain has stopped falling and spring is near. The crow opens his eyes at the first rays of sun and looks around. In the apartment in front of him, a man is preparing breakfast.
"Sandburg... will you hurry up?"
Silence, then eventually: "I'm coming... I'm coming! Gee, relax man, we've all the time in this world... we're on holiday!"
"I know it, Blair, but I'd like to leave soon. I don't know why but I wish to put Cascade behind us for a while"
The crow takes flight, and the voices grow more confused. A dream, only a dream, he tells himself as in his feathers a thousand golden reflections sparkle. Maybe one of those that will never come true.
THE END
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