Christopher WunderLee - Moore's Mythopoeia

“Oh, honey, it’s just a man, he probably got lost or maybe he got amnesia or something. It’s just one man.”

“Yes, but that’s how it begins. Did you know that her husband had been afflicted with all these accidents before he disappeared? Yes, it’s true. He almost died seven times. Then, you have these robbers stealing people’s socks and shoes on public transportation. I can’t help but see these things as offenses to our way of life.”

“That was just a prank, probably college kids with nothing better to do.”

“I never did anything like that when I was in school. It would have never occurred to us to do something like that. And this man, this missing person, what if he was abducted by someone? What do think that says about the world we live in? We have to remember, history is watching us, every decision we make, the way we raise our children, the way we handle crises, the way we handle our obligations, all of it is being recorded by history. I cannot help but wonder what it’s going to say about my lifetime. I will not have my life coexist with impurities, my life will be perfect and my community will benefit from it. I will not have robberies and missing persons sharing newspapers with my life. That is unacceptable.”

“But what can you do about it, honey?”

“We all do something about it, everyday that we live pure and wholesome lives. Don’t you see? We were able to conquer disease, mental instability, extinction, pollution, wars, all of it, by leading lives of hope and promise. We surged forward, we said ‘no more’ and we worked together to change things. This could be a sign that we did not accomplish what we set out to do. All my grandfather’s work, all my father’s work, all my family’s work, will be judged based upon these events. Our lives are perfect, our society is tranquil, our world is prosperous, these are things we need to work on sustaining every day. Not just weekdays, not just on government holidays, not just when we celebrate our achievements, but in our actions and thoughts every day,” he replied Leibnizianly.

“You are so noble.”

“Yes. I have to be, I have to be for the sake my brothers and sisters. I am Graham Greene; my actions are monitored by posterity. It is my duty and my honor to be remembered as one of the great men of my time. I take this role very seriously and I want you to as well. You are now a part of me, we are now Graham Greene, you must work to lead a life of purpose. We are examples, you and I, Haddie. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course. I won’t fail you, honey. Let’s go inside. My knight in shining armor needs to be awarded for his chivalry.”

“I don’t expect awards, I do this because it is my nature.”

“I know and I love you for it. Let me show you how inspiring you are.”

“I hope I do inspire people, by my example, by my sacrifices, by my honorable acts.”

“Yes, I’m ready to sacrifice myself, too. I want to sacrifice myself to you, but for the time being, my acts won’t be honorable.”

“You cannot, even for a moment, Haddie, sway from our purpose, our mission. There is no ‘time being,’ for we exist for all time, as history’s children.”

“Oh, I agree. Let’s go give our all for history, let’s go right now.”

“Well, honey. We can take some time off for the honeymoon. I mean, we don’t have to start right away. We should take some time for ourselves. You only have one wedding night.”

* * *

At first he thought she was going back to her flat, but then she walked through an alleyway and entered a small Mediterranean diner she had started frequenting. Several nights a week, a provocative belly dancer filled the dining room to capacity and Elisa could sit, alone, at a table without being hassled every few minutes by a gentleman offering her his discreet loins via an offer for his company. She was already seated when he made it to the door and Captain Vincent took a stool at the end of the bar so that he could keep her close, as she thumbed through an old book and ate her dinner.

He made himself comfortable and quickly, considering the size of the crowd all feigning over the available belly of the woman on stage, got the attention of the bartender. He ordered himself a drink and pleasantly made small talk with a steering wheel moustached man seated directly to his left. She would be awhile, she enjoyed sitting in a restaurant and pecking away at some dish while she read, the more people surrounding her the better. However, as Captain Vincent glanced craftily over to her location between audible observations he was making to continue his conversation, she had left her seat and was nowhere to be found amongst the chiming crowd. He abruptly, although not rudely, broke off his soliloquy and sought her with his extra-sensory means, which were crowded to the brim with all the absent meanderings of the controlled substance minds in attendance. She was still there, just out of sight.

Captain Vincent, having never been much for metaphysics, considering their unreasonable demands on mysticism and heroism of a less than physical fashion, allowed any influence the ancient music may have had to slip back into his subconscious and convinced the musicians to fumble a lengthy breath so that they were required to stop and regain their composure. As for the gyrating hips and flexing tummy of the dancer, she was a carnal emblem of repressed sexuality (he meant this in an Ellisian way) and compared to the now missing flanks and abdomen of one Elisa Greene, she was a poor example at that, although in continuing without music, by maintaining the masses attention (provocatively smacking her hips against the seated audience), she had taken on an almost pathetic air that would have perked the predator in the captain had he not been so focused on searching for his lost little honey bee.

Realizing altogether at the appropriate moment that he was still conversing with his nearest barstool neighbor, Captain Vincent turned his gaze back upon his fellow citizen, only to find the pleased face of his prey there beside him. At first, of course, our agent believed she was out-spying him, announcing to his otherwise calm demeanor that she knew of his query and was prepared to find out just what he thought he was doing ‘shadowing’, as they say in the biz, her. However, she made no mention of it, but had actually remembered him from their short dance at her brother’s wedding reception and, even more incredible, requested to sit with him.

“You look familiar, yes I remember you. Didn’t we dance at my brother’s wedding a few months ago?”

“Yes, in fact we did.”

“You’re an engineer aren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Mind if I sit down? I’m getting very sick of eating dinner all by myself.”

“No, of course not, please. Would you like something to drink?”

“That would be lovely.”

“To be honest, I thought I’d be the last person in the world that you’d ever ask to sit down with.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I didn’t get the idea from our dance that you liked me.”

“Oh, I can be a bit cranky at times, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t hurt my feelings, I found it refreshing.”

“Yes, I remember, you said I was delightful, I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that about me. What are you doing around here, I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I live nearby, I’ve seen you here quite a few times.”

“I must not have noticed. Would you be a doll and get me out of here?”

“I thought you wanted to eat.”

“No, I’m bored with food. Let’s go to a speakeasy nearby.”

“A what?”

“A speakeasy, you know where you can have a real drink and a smoke. There’s one in the warehouse district, just up the street. Do you drink or smoke? They play great old music.”