The fear in me

By ZondraAceman

370 181 4

"Give me your life!" said Death. "If I give you my life, tell me, what will then be left to me?" "Your death... More

Future
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Epilogue

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5 4 0
By ZondraAceman


At 11.43 p.m. the light at the Sommers' place at last goes out. Tim and I nevertheless wait until 1 a.m. before finally daring to go over. "What'll you say if they catch us?" Tim whispers when we're at the front door.

"No idea. I simply hope they won't catch us. Come on!" I whisper back. Tim sighs and then follows me.

We had an excellent afternoon and it was all really uncomplicated. Tim asked me a whole lot of questions and he admitted to me that he'd always known I'm different ... even extraordinary.

Those words made me blush. I'm glad that despite everything he's helping me. Of course he has no way of imagining how Jason has suffered. How could he? He's always had his hands on some girl or other.

And of course he brought up my greatest fear, namely, whether Jason would have found me wonderful if he'd not had his "gift". What-would-be-if is always hard to judge if you know only the starting situation, so it's quite idiotic to ask that question. I love Jason and what might have been doesn't matter to me! It must not matter to me. After all, I don't want to drive myself mad.

Still, Tim has awoken fear deep in me, the fear of loss. Oh yes, I am afraid I'll never see Jason again. I think I couldn't bear that. And if he turned me away I wouldn't know what to do. But I simply must not let myself think about that.

Tim's told me how to find an address if you know the IP. He was dauntingly businesslike. "The abbreviation IP stands for internet protocol," he explained to me first. "By the IP address a number is indicated that clearly identifies a computer in the internet. That number has a length of 32 bits. To avoid having always having to write 32 zeros and ones there is a 'DDN' which presents the IP address in decimal form, and the four bytes that are shown separated by dots."

I looked at him while he was telling me something in a language I don't understand, and he laughed. "It's easy once you know what you have to look for ... You said that doctor posted in the internet, didn't you? That always leaves behind traces.

"You know, an IP address always consists of two parts: the network part and the host part. The network part gives a crude description where a computer is to be found. The network part can be compared approximately with the postal zip code and the name of a city. The host part then goes into detail and is comparable with the street and house number."

He looks at me in triumph and I mutter, "The main thing is that you know what to do."

I give a soft sigh when I remember that. We're now in Sommers' house and going up the stairway to Jason's room. Quietly I open the door and let Tim in before carefully closing it again. Tim looks about with curiosity.

"Musical, is he?" he growls, and looks further at the room, then he goes to the desk where Jason's computer is. "I hope you know his password if he has one! Otherwise this can last an eternity ..."

"There's no password, I'm a hundred percent sure!"

Tim sits down at the desk and pushes down on the computer. "It wasn't turned off at all! It was on standby mode," he says.

"Good, so let's get down to it! Go to the e-mail box ..."

"Jason left the house so lightning fast that he hadn't even the time, it seems, to turn off the computer," Tim whispers.

I nod sadly and have to turn away so Tim won't see the tears welling in my eyes. When I turn away my glance falls on Jason's bedside table. His diary is there. Why did he leave it here? A diary is sacrosanct, isn't it? Unless he knows he's not coming back and left it there as a farewell. My heart cramps tight and now tears are pouring down my cheeks. What is his intention? I know I really have no right to read Jason's thoughts, but I suddenly have the feeling he left his diary behind for me. I hope it wasn't for the reason I'm thinking ... I don't want a farewell forever. It's only a temporary one; I'll see him again. Whatever it takes!

I sigh inwardly and go to the bedside table and grasp the book.

"Here it is!" says Tim, fortunately still turned away from me.

"Dr. Lange, you said, yes? Is it okay if I read the messages?"

"Yes, after all, you have to know all about it!" I say and sit down on the drumming table. Then I open the diary and read the last entry Jason made. It is simply nothing but "Nay". A good feeling courses through my body and I hope Tim won't turn around now and catch me reading Jason's diary while he's "working".

Nay,

Lying with you, holding you, is the most beautiful thing that has happened to me for a long time.

Fear is the last thing I want to have in my mind when I am with you.

But it is there and now shows me how precious is what I am holding in my arms.

I want to switch off and just enjoy, I want to think you will always stay with me.

But can I instruct you to love me forever when the future is so uncertain?

I want to possess you like a barbarian. But my love is stronger than my desire.

I'll just be thankful for every second that you spend at my side.

To feel you, kiss you, hear you say my name is enough.

Everything else is of no interest; let the future come, I'll face up to my fear.

The words he wrote are so sensitive and pure that I can no longer keep back my tears. I'm missing him so much even though he's been gone only one day. Tim hears my sobbing and turns around. He looks shocked. I jump up out of the chair and wipe away my tears.

"What's up? Did he leave you a farewell letter?"

I shake my head. "No ... that ... is his ... diary!"

"You're reading his diary?" Tim replies angrily. "Leave off, if it makes you so sad. I hardly believe he'd think it okay that you're rummaging about in his things!"

"I wasn't rummaging. I found it open on his bedside table," I wail. "Jason!" we suddenly hear a voice. Tim and I look at each other in fright. "Jason, are you there? Can I come in?"

Tim presses the monitor button and the screen goes blank, then he pulls me to the inbuilt wardrobe, and presses me into it with him together. He has just closed the wardrobe door when the room door opens.

"Jason?" asks Sharon quietly and expectantly.

"He's not here, sweetheart. Come on, he'll calm down again, give him time!" That sounds like Todd.

"I thought I'd heard something," she sighs and sounds sad now. "You wanted to hear something! But there was nothing, believe me!" says Todd softly, and then steps are heard on the stairway and a door closing. Tim and I have apparently both been holding our breath, because now both of us breathe out deeply.

"Phew! That was close!" he whispers into my face. He's standing so close to me.

It seems that it has occurred to him too, because he gives a deep sigh. "Nay," he whispers, "I'd like to kiss you."

I shake my head and whisper, "That's not a good idea," and in doing so I pull him out of the wardrobe so we can look at each other.

Tim's lips go into a pout and I have to grin. "Hey, you're my saviour. I was so shocked when Mrs. Sommer called out that I was incapable of moving. Thanks!" I give him a snog on the cheek.

Tim sighs. "Okay, let's get back to work."

I nod and follow Tim to the desk. "Do you think she'll come back?" I ask Tim quietly.

"Let's hope not," answers Tim just as quietly.

"Now I'd prefer to work in silence. When I've got everything we need, let's get out of here as quickly as possible." He pulls a USB stick out of his pocket and goes to work. Sharon does not interrupt us again, but it lasts quite a while and the clock shows 2.38 when Tim says he has everything he needs and we can go home.

"Thanks, Tim," I yawn when we are standing at my front door.

He smiles. "No problem! Shall we quickly go through everything?" "If it's okay." I am extremely tried but I want to know where I can find Jason.

"Good. Come on before you go to sleep in front of the house!"

When we are in my room he tells me we'll need help from a friend to find the exact address of Dr. Lange.

"Why don't you just look it up?" I ask tired and disappointed that the search will again be drawn out by that.

Tim gives a broad grin. "I'm quite good, but it's illegal. Only the police can get quick access because the provider has to give information ... it can't be done any other way. Unless I hack the access information from the provider's computer."

"Can't you do that?"

"Nay, I'm not a genius ... a bit more is needed for that." Seeing my hopeless expression he says with a smile: "Hey, we'll ask Sam, he's sure to help us."

Sam's a policeman we've both known for a very long time and who has helped us more than once. When we were both five years old we got lost and he took us home again. We've known him since then. Somehow he was always there when we got into difficulties. When we were seven we got caught in a huge thunderstorm while on an excursion in the forest. Our teacher of the time had gone crazily hysterical because she'd completely lost her orientation. But suddenly Sam was there and led us to a forest hut till the storm had passed. And with his radio he had informed the school that everything was okay. Between the ages of seven and twelve there were many little things that brought us in contact with Sam, e.g., a flat tyre in the middle of a road in use, doorbell pranks that one of our neighbours found to be stupid, and our own detective investigations when we decided to clear up all the unsolved cases and always took him evidence that of course was none. He always grinned and said we were such good investigators, which greatly pleased Tim and me. When we were fourteen he rectified the impression that we had ruined the tombs in the cemetery; we had been seen at the cemetery one day before that fateful kiss. He caught the real culprit and people apologised to us. Well yes, Sam was always there for us, and so this time I had no doubt. He would help us!

"Okay!" I yawn three times, one after another, and I feel I'm quite stupid that I can't stop that.

"Do you want to eat me up, or are you just tired?" Tim laughs. "Very funny! It's been a long day!"

"I know," he says and sounds tender. I see his love for me in his eyes. I quickly look down and hear him sigh: "I ought to go. We'll see each other at midday, okay?"

"Why so late?" I protest.

"Because that's when Sam has his midday break and then we can talk with him," he explains and sounds sad.

I say only "Oh!"

Once again he sighs, then bends forward and gives me a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well, Nay!" he murmurs quietly.

"You too!" I say back and observe him leaving my room hesitantly. A little later I go to sleep in my clothes on my bed.

I wake up with the feeling that I haven't slept one second, although I was dog tired yesterday, or rather this morning. My watch shows 10.29 and I'm glad it's not long till midday so we can meet Sam. I hope he can help us. What if he doesn't? I mustn't think about that. I must be positive. Everything will work out! Yes!

I take off my clothes from yesterday and go for a shower. While showering I wonder what to tell Sam. I decide I'll tell him only the most essential things, namely, that my friend is missing and that I'm sure he's with that Dr. Lange. I sure hope that's enough for him. Hm, if not, I'll have to spontaneously come up with something. We need Sam; otherwise we won't get the address.

When I go into the kitchen, my mother is sitting at the kitchen table and looks at me quizzically. She looks worried. "Wow, that's the first time you've slept so long. Are you all right? I had a look at you, and you were lying on the bed in your clothes."

I blush and say: "Yes. Tim was here yesterday. I must have somehow gone to sleep ..."

"Oh!" she says. I sit down at the set breakfast table and hope she won't ask any more questions. But I'm lucky.

"Are Tim and Jason getting on better now?"

"Yes!" I say curtly.

"So Jason doesn't mind if you burn the midnight oil with Tim?" she goes on.

"He's got nothing against that!" I start eating a few slices of crispy bacon, hoping my mother will not interrupt me while I'm eating. "Are things really okay? You look tired," she states worriedly.

I sigh. I'll probably not get away without telling her something, so I say: "I didn't sleep well. Tim and I spoke about horror stuff yesterday and somehow I dreamt of that ..." Yesterday my day was after all one of pure horror, so that's a little white lie, isn't it? She starts laughing. "You've both always had a lively fantasy. I hope you'll talk about something nicer today. After all, it's holiday time, you should relax."

"You're right about that!" I say, relieved. We chatter for a bit longer while I'm eating breakfast, and punctually at 11.45 there's a ringing of the doorbell.

"That's Tim!" I say, and jump up. "We want to go into the city." I give my mother a kiss and open the door.

Tim looks well rested. He grins at me. "Good morning!"

"Morning, Tim. I'll quickly fetch my jacket ... wait!" A little later we're on the way to the police station. Tim tells me he's already rung Sam this morning and told him we'll be coming by.

When we've almost arrived Tim's mobile rings. Sam's on the phone and says it'd be better if we met in Café Seelenglück. Since the café's not far from the police station, I park there and we continue on foot.

The Café Seelenglück is incredibly full. Thanks be to God it's quite a big area, so there are enough places to sit.

The café is a genuine feast for the eyes and enormously popular. The walls look as though they were made of pure marble. They are artfully draped with a gigantic picture by Michelangelo. The bistro tables in baroque style are covered in a layer similar to ivory. In fitting with that, baroque chairs are at the tables. Golden cushions invite you to sit comfortably. At the back of the area and on the left at the sides of the locale there are diverse benches in the same baroque style. On the marble counter on the right there is an ancient golden till which I find marvellously beautiful. The space is simply just heavenly. I look around and recognise some people from our school and wave. Then I see Sam. He's wearing civvies, which surprises me. He looks young although he must be at least approaching forty. Man, I'd like to have such genes! "Hi there!" he says as we get closer. Tim and I greet him exuberantly. "You're looking good! Not a day more than twenty-nine," I assert.

He blushes. "Thanks. I feel quite well too." He clears his throat self-consciously and then asks, "So what's it about today?"

"Wow, as usual down to business straight away," Tim laughs.

"You know quite well, I never have any time ... not really," he says grinning.

"So we must be terribly lucky that you always have time for us. Why are you in civvies? Are you off duty?" asks Tim.

"I had early duty. Now I'm free," smirks Sam.

Something or other about his appearance is disturbing me today. While I'm watching him and pondering he continues, "I'm got something else on today. So it'd be good if you could present your business."

He licks his lips and looks nervous. Agitated! Strange! Yes, that's what's disturbing me. I don't know him like this. At other times he's tranquillity personified, as if nothing and nobody could ever upset his equilibrium. But now we see an unusual tension in his face.

"That sounds formal ..." Tim says with a snort. "Present our business? Really?"

Now I have to laugh too. "Tim's not so keen on formality. In an application for a holiday job he wrote as a salutation 'Hey boss' ... hahahaha ... that was the bellower!" Sam and I now both laugh and I'm glad I've been able to distract him a bit from whatever is bothering him.

"Hey! I just wanted to tell him that in any case I look on him as the big guy ..." Tim explains in detail. "You know, so he'd see I had no problem in being subordinate to him ..." We two have to laugh even more at that explanation. Tim's a genuine anarcho-type!

"Has he always been so funny?" Sam asks me, wiping from his eye a tear caused by laughter.

"Yes! The good thing is that he doesn't even notice it," I confirm to him, still laughing.

"Does that mean he's actually serious about that?"

"Deadly serious!" I simply confirm. And when I see Tim's irritated look at Sam we burst out laughing again.

"Very witty, you two. Really, very witty. Life is too short to be formal. Honestly, when I'm playing a game on my roller-skates I don't ask: Excuse me, is it okay for me to give the gang a shove?" mutters Tim.

"My dear Tim, I believe we have to talk about a few things ..." Sam sighs in amusement.

Then Tim grumbles, "In any case."

As usual he has no time for things that he regards as ridiculous and unnecessary in his eyes. As though all of a sudden all the rules had been changed for him. Well then, he'll get to know the tough world when once he's in professional life; I hope it won't be too hard for him.

"Just stay the way you are ..." I tell him in a conciliatory voice, and Tim's eyes brighten up.

For a short while we look at each other and it occurs to me that I've even forgotten Jason's situation for a moment. But now it's all come back and I take a deep breath. There's something important we have to explain. Well, where were we?

Sam grins at me and says: "Now we'll switch over to the important things, okay?"

I nod in relief. "Yes, we need your help! But I can't tell you much. You simply must believe me that it's incredibly important."

"Are you two in trouble?" asks Sam in alarm.

Tim and I shake our heads. "We just want to find somebody! And for that we need your help," says Tim.

"Tim, I'm not a detective ..." Sam begins.

"No ..." I interrupt him. "We know where he is, but we want to have the exact address. And only you can help us get onto it ..."

Sam looks at the two of us sceptically.

"How am I supposed to be helpful to you?"

"We know the IP address and you can call on the provider to give us the house address," says Tim.

"It's really a matter of life and death!" I add quickly, because Sam's eyebrows have lifted in doubt.

"But it's not legal," he reminds me. "I need more information."

I sigh, because I almost thought that myself. "Sam, you know I wouldn't ask you for anything illegal if it wasn't important. I believe my boyfriend Jason would be found at that address ..."

"Your boyfriend?" he asks incredulously and looks at Tim and back at me.

"Tim and I are just good friends. I'm in a relationship with Jason. And he's disappeared and I believe he's in danger. No – I know he is!"

"You're in a relationship?" Sam asks with an extremely confused look.

I nod and say clearly and unmistakably: "And he needs our help urgently! It's a matter of life and death!"

Sam thinks for a short time and his glance is investigatory when he asks: "What's he got into? Ahem ... drugs?"

I wave that aside. "No, not drugs. Seriously, no. I can't tell you exactly ... but it's nothing illegal, really! I have to find him, it's really important. So: pleee-ease, help me find the address!"

I must sound genuinely desperate because now Sam's eyes are looking at me with sympathy and he seems to be weighing up what he should do. He says nothing. He just looks at me. At that point it occurs to me that his eyes are looking older and more tired. Yes! He's looking miserable and sickly. Is it to do with his health? Should I speak to him about that? Maybe, when it's all over ... yes, I'll speak to him and who knows, perhaps I can help him. At least if it is something to do with his health. I hope he hasn't got hassles in his marriage; that'd be a real shame for the added reason that I can't help him with that. I give an inward sigh. I would truly like to help him!

I hear Sam give a loud groan. "Okay, I'll help you. The two of you! But I'll go with you! I don't want you to drive there alone. If you say it's a matter of life and death I automatically think of danger. And so I'll go with you." Now he's grinning.

"You'll really help us?" I call out enthusiastically. He nods and Tim laughs. "That's brilliant! I genuinely wouldn't have thought you'd get involved in it without further ado."

"I'm not getting involved without further ado. I want information and all the details ..." Sam informs us. Now he's looking serious. Deadly serious!

"Oh!" Tim and I say simultaneously.

I'll not be able to get away with not telling him about Jason. Shit! "I can explain it to you when we're en route to the address you'll give us ..." I say, waiting for his response.

He thinks for a moment and then says: "Okay!" I exhale in relief. "But first of all I have to go ... appointment!" he says in apology and looks at his watch.

"Tim, have you written down everything important for me?"

Tim nods and hands him a slip of paper on which there are figures and letters. Can he do something with that? But Sam seems to be satisfied with the information he's received, because he pushes off, of course not without saying: "I'll contact you when I've got it all!"

I sigh: "Wow! I wouldn't have thought he'd do it."

"Of course you thought he'd do it. You win everybody over because you're simply irresistible," Tim says, and I blush.


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