8.
Back home Diedie and Jabar socially sit together in front of the hearth. A bottle of red wine and a dish of nuts stand on the coffee table. I join them and take myself a glass of wine.
‘I’m dead tired,’ I say while I plop down and shuffle my feet underneath me in a lotus position.
‘How did it go?’ Diedie asks me.
Her rosy cheeks indicate she has already had enough wine.
‘Busy. I told Oded about your whisky. He’ll come around soon.’
I throw a nut from a distance into my mouth. Beside it, of course.
‘Good.’ Jabar stands up to put some more wood on the fire.
‘I’m probably exaggerating, but I got the impression I was being watched today.’
In the burning light of the flames Jabar’s black hair shines as polished up opal. It reminds me of that calm, attractive costumer from the pub. I didn’t even see him leave, but all of a sudden he seemed to have disappeared. Strangely enough it left me with an empty feeling.
Jabar keeps standing with his back towards the hearth and looks at me with a worried face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well,’ I start. ‘First there were two guys in the pub that were whispering mysteriously to each other and they shut up when I walked by. Later on, when I was in the telephone shop, I saw one of them standing at the other side of the road. He was looking at me, no doubt about that. When I looked his way, he ran away quickly.’
‘Maybe he was keen on you,’ Diedie suggests.
‘What did he look like?’ Jabar asks and takes his seat again.
I shrug my shoulders. ‘Nothing special. Normal length and outlook. He did have a huge nose though.’
‘Human?’
‘No idea.’
‘It’s annoying,’ Diedie says, ‘we can’t recognize otherkinds more fluently.’
Diedie is right, it would make my job a lot easier. But on the other hand this also makes it possible for us to live among human beings without getting noticed.
The outer characteristics of every kind are subtle and even human beings can have them. Elves have slightly pointed ears, vamps their fangs, angels snow white hair, devils are born with eleven toes or fingers and witches have a birthmark. Only transformers like me don’t have a specific characteristic.
‘What does it matter if you could recognize them?’ Jabar says.
‘Nothing, it’s just… at least you know than,’ Diedie thinks.
‘Otherkinds aren’t more dangerous than human beings,’ Jabar adds to that.
‘No,’ Diedie says. ‘But if a human is keeping an eye on Manon and he sees her transforming it’s a bigger problem than when it’s an otherkind seeing it.’
‘You’re right,’ Jabar agrees.
‘It would also be so much easier to find a life partner when you want to have children,’ I add.
‘Indeed, right you are,’ Diedie says.
For a while, it seems as if Jabar is thinking of something; a frown appears on his forehead.
‘Did anything special still happened today?’ I ask.
‘No,’ Diedie and Jabar answer with one voice.
‘No gift-imposers?’
‘No, nowhere,’ Jabar answers.
‘What a luck, I don’t feel like interfering.’
‘You still want to eat something,’ Diedie asks.
‘No, thanks. I’m going to bring a visit to my bed.’ I stand up.
‘Can we train tomorrow morning?’ I ask Jabar.
‘Good idea. Sleep well, Manon.’
‘Good night.’
I empty my glass of wine, give them a kiss and head towards my bedroom.
I have a spacious bedroom with in it everything I need. Beneath my windows are shelves crammed with books from authors as Dean Koontz, John Vermeulen, Tisa Pescar, Thirza Meta and Michael Marshall Smith.
In the centre of the room, which is decorated in a sallow complexion, stands a double bed that’s almost totally covered by teddy bears I’ve collected during my entire life.
In front of the bed: a television. And adjoining a bathroom with bath, two washbasins and sofa.
I throw my clothes on the windowsill that’s so wide you can easily sit on it with a bunch of people. After that I take a long, hot shower.
The thoughts about the attractive guy from the pub keep running through my head, alternating with the image of that nasty peeping Tom. Damn it, I can’t even quietly enjoy the memory of that clever fellow without Big Nose minding his own business!
Wrapped in a soft, warm dressing gown I get into bed, push the teddy bears aside and put on the television. Around this time most of the movies have ended already. I zap aimlessly between different channels, without really focusing on it.
Eventually I doze off with the television still on, which has already happened so many times before.
In the middle of the night I wake up because of a strange noise. I come to sit straight up in bed and prick up my ears. Maybe I just imagined it, because it’s as still as a mouse inside. The television screen is black. Probably Jabar turned it off before he went to bed. Right on the moment I want to lie down again, sermonizing myself because of my jumpy behavior, I hear a scratching noise in the room next to mine.
Now I’m sure of it!
The room next to mine is a bedroom that isn’t used. Not even guests are lodged in this, but in another bedroom. Diedie sleeps in the attic room and Jabar has a bedroom on the first floor, so the noises couldn’t be originating from them. Besides the room is, aside from a few chairs, empty.
However, I do know that in that room, behind a painting of Permeke, there’s a built-in wall safe. I don’t know whether Jabar keeps valuable things in it and maybe the safe is empty. Nevertheless, that doesn’t give a burglar the right to sneak into our house.
Jabar could now be persuaded, contradictory to his principles, to get the house electronically secured. At least I hope so.
I get up quietly and tie the dressing gown, with which I fell asleep, more tightly around me. Not really a practical battle dress, but I don’t want to waste time right now. Who knows how long he or she is already busy. As silent as I can I open the night table and take out, from a special closed box for that purpose, my Glock. It’s prohibited to keep the bullets in the pistol, except on the shooting range of course, but I always put fifteen bullets in it, so I luckily don’t have to check that. I don’t fire at someone unnecessarily. It creates a lot of mess and confrontations with the police, although I have a gun license. So I put the pistol on my back, between the tie belt of my dressing gown.
Why don’t I change my hand into a pistol? It would indeed be easier and I can’t drop it by accident. However, the problem is that when I would fire and the bullet would get stuck in someone’s body, I would lose a bone in my finger or so.
I do take the telescopical blackjack in my hand, ready for use.
I creep towards my room’s door and slowly open it. Not a sound. Phew.
It’s only one meter to the door of the room next to it. The redstone floor feels cold beneath my feet. I hold my breath intently. The door of the room next to it is closed, but I unmistakable can hear a movement.
One… two… three.
I open the door and turn on the light immediately.