Christopher WunderLee - Moore's Mythopoeia

“He was there because of you, Elisa.”

“So?”

“So, if Section 6 is on to us, if they know you’re involved, it very well could be the end of it.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, he was just like all those other men who asked me to dance, he didn’t seem to want anything more.”

“He wants more, my guess is that you may be under surveillance, Elisa.”

“If I’m under surveillance Nicholas, why would he come up and introduce himself to me?”

“I don’t know… but Belacque’s ambitious, he might just be trying to use you to get to us. Possibly, he’s had you under surveillance and it’s led him to us.”

“So what do we do about it?”

“Do you think you could find out what he knows?”

“How?”

“That’s not protocol, Elisa. Section 6 doesn’t work that way, there’s no way he’d make his presence known without reason. I think there’s more to him asking you to dance than official business.”

“But he didn’t make his presence known, he said he was an engineer.”

Elisa reached down again and adjusted the corner of her leather boot.

“He had to realize that you or someone with you would know who he really was. I think it was a calculated risk on his part.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Well you’ve been introduced, if he is following you it shouldn’t be hard to tell. Then all you have to do is initiate a relationship.”

“I’ve never been one to conceal my hidden charms.”

“From there it’s just a matter of finding out what he wants with you and if he knows anything about us.”

“So I’ll just be the girl waiting for the right man to come along, I’ve had a lovely time with all the wrong ones after all.”

“You’ll have to be careful, we don’t want it to backfire on us. He’s probably trying to gather evidence on you or the resistance or both. We can’t have you being a pawn.”

“It shouldn’t be hard to focus his attention elsewhere.”

“There should be indications of his intentions, Elisa. If you can find out what he knows about us — if anything — we can adjust some of our future operations. For now, we’ll assume he knows about us and that you’re his contact. If you can find out otherwise, we can move forward with the Program.”

“How do I do that?”

“You’ll have to be discreet, quiet about it, otherwise it’s to no avail. Pretend it’s a random encounter, that you’re oblivious to his case or who he is, that all you really want is a person to spend time with, he’s pretty conservative.”

“So I’ll be the opposite.”

“Initiate intimacy and get close to him, close enough so that he’ll confess to you what he really does and why. Then we’ll know.”

“I’ll get him to expose himself.”

“I’m serious, if you can find out what the Sections know about the operation, we can move forward, no more waiting. It’s really important, Elisa. I wouldn’t be asking you to do it if it wasn’t.”

“Sure you would.

“Speaking of my brother’s wedding,” Elisa mentioned associatedly, “there was a woman there, she said her husband was ‘lost’, that he’d runaway.”

“So.”

“Her name was Norma Moore.”

“So.”

“Her husband’s name is Joseph Moore.”

“Okay.”

“Joseph Moore, don’t you remember? You initiated him awhile back. Carl introduced him and you had me talk to him.”

“I can’t be expected to remember all the people I’ve ever met.”

“He’s disappeared Arthur, she doesn’t know where he is and the authorities can’t find him either. Section 9 hasn’t retrieved him and obviously you haven’t sent him on an errand. Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

“He probably ran off with another woman or something.”

“No, he wouldn’t do that, he was genuine.”

“How do you know?”

“I talked to him, remember? He had two different colored eyes, he seemed altered — before he quit his cocktails, he was unique.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, you seem a little distracted lately.”

“I remember he asked me if I ever thought he could have been content, that was all he really said to me, the rest was odd quotes or poetry or something. I did most of the talking, it was strange, he seemed wounded or something, I felt like I needed to care for him.”

“Very odd — you taking the time to bother with him.”

“He said things to me that were like my own thoughts, I found myself confessing to him, however it was like he already knew all of it and I was simply reiterating. He was very different Arthur, he needed me to help him or something, however I don’t think he knew yet what he needed assistance with…”

“He’s just another messed up casualty, Elisa. Don’t put too much thought into it.”

“It’s all I’ve been able to think about. After I met him and we spent the night in the room, I’ve felt like he was still listening to my thoughts, but not outside, like he was inside, like I’d involuntarily allowed him to know myself truly, not what is filtered out.”

Arthur Dodger was silent, having never heard Elisa speak in such a way, he considered her diagnosis of the meeting melodramatic and romantic, two things he abhorred. He lit one of his hand-rolled cigarettes and passed it to Elisa and took out another one for himself. “Fantasy, drug induced fantasy.”

“Maybe.”

* * *

Graham Greene stood on the ledge of Eduardo Automotive Falls, his arm around his new wife, staring down into the Edge Sport River. They had just arrived; tonight was the big night. Haddie would be ceremonially obliged to get naked and crawl into the bed covers with him. This was all foreplay; this was all in preparation for denting his new wife’s head against an ivory headboard. He stood like a triumphant Viking in a foreign land, the native wench beside him, having seen her husband die, she was prepared to mate with the enemy. The next day, after one wild night of lovemaking, they’d be leaving for safari, to see his family’s greatest achievements. The wedding had been a complete success, everyone thought so, and the reception was a great to-do.

The only thing that had bothered Graham was the woman he had met and his sister’s split lip. Elisa was living in his old apartment now, living in the city. She said she had run into the refrigerator door, but it didn’t settle well with Graham. Then, there was the sweepstakes winner, the woman whose husband had disappeared, the woman talking to Elisa in that animated voice, the cartoon drama of her words. She had lost her husband. Graham had read about an attack on a public bus, people had been robbed of their socks and shoes. Now, a man was missing. The world, so ideal, so well looked after, appeared to be losing its perfection. She was medicated, but she was crying and laughing about her husband. She said he had been digging a grave and had disappeared. The shovel was still in the dirt. Their cat was missing as well. She wanted Graham to speak to him, the husband that is, if he was ever found. Graham had agreed.

“What are you thinking about, honey?” Haddie asked, snuggling up to his arm

“Our wedding.”

“Wasn’t it just perfect?”

“Yes. However, the reception was not what I hoped for,” Graham replied.

“Why do you say that, darling?”

“Did you meet that woman, the one who would not leave Elisa alone?”

“Um, no. Well, I might have, I don’t know. There were too many people to remember.”

“She was one of the sweepstakes winners, her husband was missing.”

“Oh, dear. How could he be missing? I mean, how could she not know where he was?”

“That is just the point. The world is changing. We’ve worked so hard to make it right and now, now it seems as though there are evil forces at work trying to destroy it,” Graham managed with an extreme hesternopothian tone.