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—Please, sir. Please don’t kill me!

—Did you just call me sir? Sir was my father before we killed him. My name is Charles. Call me Charles. Seriously, I’m twenty-four years old, do I look like a sir to you? The use of honorific indicates distance. I felt quite the opposite. I know you were being polite but I felt a connection, like I could share things with you that I don’t get to share with most people…. Now I forgot what I was saying. DAMN IT! Don’t interrupt me again. I was telling you about our quest.

We… we’re hunters. We hunt people. This is when I’m supposed to say they’re bad people, that they deserve it. The truth is I’ve never met any of them. My father never met them, neither has his father. They have something, apparently, a machine that we want. Something that can save… more people than you can imagine. I’ve never seen it, of course. No one has. Maybe it doesn’t exist. All I know is that these women left Germany and landed here, in New York. Only we won’t find them in New York because that was thirteen fucking years ago. That’s how we measure how close we are, not in distance, but in time. To be honest, thirteen years is as close as I ever got.

Do you understand what I’m saying? We spend our whole lives, every hour of every day, chasing people we’ve never met, looking for something we’ve never seen. It’s been like that for… Do you know how amazing your life looks to me? What I wouldn’t give for just one day of family finance? I envy you. I… envy you.

—Please! I don’t want to die! PLEASE! HELP ME! HEEELP!

—Shhhh. You’ll wake everyone. Now I’m going to have to gag you.

—NOOO! HMMM…

—Stop it! I don’t want to kill you. Not like that. I’m not a maniac. I just want… I thought we were sharing… I wonder why they call this duck tape? It’s green. Ducks aren’t gr—

I’m sorry. I thought I heard something…. Why’d you have to scream? I can’t see half your face anymore. I liked looking at your face. To be completely frank, I also find begging quite unbecoming. It makes you look—I don’t know—stupid is the first word that comes to mind. I don’t want to think of you that way. Don’t be like them. They all beg. What do they expect? Sorry to have bothered you. I was going to kill you, but you said please, so… In this particular case, I’m willing to take some of the blame. I did use some rather graphic language earlier. I—

There. You must have heard that? I think there’s someone at the door. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. That was a joke. I know, you’re tied up. Not funny… I have redeeming qualities but I do lack a proper sense of humor. My whole family does.

Yep. There’s someone at the door. He must have heard you. Now you’ve done it. I’m going to have to open the door and kill this fellow before he wakes up more neighbors and I have to kill them, too. You understand how bad this can get, don’t you? It could turn into a vicious cycle, very vicious. Watch this.

What can I do for you, young man? There… it’s done. Don’t fight it. Now if you would please fall forward so I can close the door. Thank you.

This is really going to ruin the carpet. It’s a shame. I could imagine myself living here. Did you see how quick that was? This man was alive—what? three seconds ago—and now he’s not, or he soon won’t be. I don’t think he ever realized what was happening to him. Maybe he did. Who cares? He’s dead. You did that…. Yes. I was instrumental in the man’s demise, but you, you started that chain of events. Maybe his wife is waiting for him to come back, maybe his kids are. What do you think will happen if they come looking for him? All because of one scream. And for what? You don’t seem particularly pleased. I know I’m not. Look at him! Was it worth it?

I realize this may seem somewhat cruel to you. I hope you find some comfort in knowing it wasn’t a random act. I think you’ll see what I was getting at very clearly in a few minutes. I’ve told you a bit about my life already, but there is something else I’m trying to explain to you, something I would rather not share with someone who’s bound and gagged. Now if you want… If you want, I’ll untie you and take this off your mouth so we can have a civilized conversation. Is that a yes? Very well then.

I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize these were so tight. I’m going to rip this off quickly, it might sting a bit. Again, I apologize. Are you comfortable? Just nod. You’re still in shock. I hope you’re calm enough to listen to what I have to say. I’m not going to hurt you if you just listen.

—Please. Please don’t hurt me.

—Isn’t that what I just said? I just said: “I’m not going to hurt you if you just listen.” Your answer to that is: “Please don’t hurt me.” You see how someone might interpret that as a sign that you weren’t listening? Again, I’m willing to cut you some slack given these unusual circumstances, but you should really make an effort. Anyway, moving on. As I told you before, the life we live, it’s… unrewarding. You’re taken over by this… unbearable numbness is how I would describe it. Case in point: a minute ago, I killed a man and I got nothing out of it. I felt nothing. There were other factors at play, or course. It happened really fast. I didn’t know the man. What matters is that I didn’t feel a thing. I don’t feel anything, except…

Look at you! You’re terrified! It’s beautiful to watch. I wish I could feel that. I would give anything to feel something this intense. You don’t know how much I envy you at this moment, and while this may seem insignificant to you, that ounce of jealousy going through my veins is about as much feeling as I can hope for. Envying you is the highlight of my day. I thank you for that.

There are moments, like this one, where… I told you I thought we had a connection. Watching you lie in bed, scared beyond your wits, I developed a certain fondness for you. Have you ever had a dog? You don’t need to answer, it doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that—Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit. Shhhhhh. See. I told you it would be painless. What I’m trying to say is that I’m going to watch you die, and when the life is gone from you, I might feel something other than envy. I wish you knew how much it would mean to me, how grateful I’d be if I could, even for a moment, feel remorse.

25

Songs My Mother Taught Me

—I’m not ready, Mother.

I know she is not. I saw the despair in Mia’s face the moment I told her, but I did not need to see. I remember walking into our ship cabin like it was yesterday, the emptiness of it. The room was unremarkably tidy, my mother’s clothes still hanging in the small closet. I still cannot say exactly what was odd about it. It felt… staged, artificial, the way your neighbor’s house looks when they invite you over for the first time. Magazines angled just the right way, a tennis racket conveniently forgotten by the doorway, a book that was never read left open on the coffee table. I knew my mother was gone and that she would not come back. I knew I would never be the child again. I was not ready.

—I know.

—I need more time.

I did, too. There were no warnings, no signs. Mother did not leave any subtle hints, or they were too subtle, or I was not smart enough. All I know is that my world ended in that third-class cabin. There was nothing left. Only me and a bright-eyed child who did not know why her mother was crying. I should have known. I knew the rules. I knew there couldn’t be three, but I still saw us as two. My mother. My daughter. I was just a spectator, the one taking the picture. It took some time before I felt like I could do anything on my own. I just went through the motions, making sure my daughter was fed and sheltered. In her own way, it was Mia who kept me going. I owe her my life. I owe her time.