#33 NUMB
From this day on, Mia got “an invitation” once a week. She usually found two muscular guys waiting for her in her apartment (they had a key). Then they let her silently to a black and fancy BMW with the best equipment. She didn't need any advice to understand what she was suppose to do. She felt uncomfortable and bad sitting in this car being delivered to him as if she was a piece of meat.
Her first thought was that such expensive cars were very rare in Poland. Only the most important politicians, rich people and the mafia had such kind of cars. Nevertheless, for sure this guy wasn't a politician. His bodyguards were professionals though. Such personnel cost a fortune.
He was living in a villa somewhere in Warsaw, almost outside of the city. She wasn't sure where exactly; she didn't know the city so well. They were driving approximately half an hour and through the black car’s windows, Mia couldn't see much. There was a special black screen between the driver and the passengers sitting in the back. The half an hour drive was always a kind of preparation for their meeting. Mia was fighting with uncertainty. How did he know so much about her? Why was he asking questions, which he could easily answer himself? What was he planning? Which role was she supposed to play and why knew he her mother? And what kind of name was that: Jonas?
As the car stopped, all she could see was a street with many trees. The villa Jonas was living in was like a small castle, 18th century style. She followed the bodyguards into the lobby and then into a big room with shut curtains – no matter what time of the day. This room was always dark and she had to wait until Jonas came in. As he passed the room, some candles started to burn without anyone lightening them. It was odd. It was like the sound system that is switched on by clapping your hands once and switched off when you clap twice. There certainly was no such system for candles.
He used to wear dark and well tailored suits. His shirt was dark, too, but brighter than the suit’s colour. He walked slowly and enjoyed the moment he stepped into the room. He was always catching all her attention, like a king entering a room automatically demanding certain honours.
She observed him and he observed her. They didn't exchange a word and were looking at each other for a long time. It was, as if time would pass by slower and seconds became minutes. She felt her heartbeat becoming slower, but still regularly. You could hear her heartbeat in the room, but not his. His steps were quiet. He was moving like a ghost: without a sound, without a trace. She felt like a haunted animal.
Jonas didn't even seem to breathe. He seemed to have no heart. On the other hand, maybe her heart was beating in the same rhythm as his. She was focussed. Jonas, too. She was calm. Jonas, too. She was waiting. Jonas, too. They were standing there like two fighters before a battle, like David and Goliath, but Mia had no clue against whom she was supposed to fight. All she knew was that the enemy was strong and she felt respect for it.
It was already the sixth week of such terror and every time they met his slugs were heavier. Usually, she came to him and he asked her questions about her life. He was asking how she knew that he was in Wroclaw and why she was there so fast. He wanted to know what she had been doing all these years and how many friends she had. He asked what she remembered from the night they first met and what it was like for a 3 years old girl to grow up without parents. He composed his sentences very carefully. He never used a word without meaning. His questions were sharp, like cuts of a sword. Then a short break for her answers followed and she never used this part of the game. Silence ruled over the room, his odd smile became bigger and bigger, and finally the slug.
Jonas somehow beat her carefully. He enjoyed giving her a careful trouncing, with pure calculated and all bad intention. He showed a wild satisfaction when seeing her bleeding. He tried not to hit her into the face, because she should not attract attention. His first inglorious smile showed on his face when her nose started to bleed. Mia tried to wash the stream off with her sleeves then but it didn't work, because Jonas hit her somewhere else a moment later and the blood was smeared all over her face. Jonas was happy. His pleasure was even worse for her than his slugs. He wanted to embarrass her and took away any feeling of dignity when she was in his territory.
When he was satisfied for a while, he let her go to visit her grandmother.
Mia was surprised that her grandmother was living in his villa. She had her own room (Mia called it a cell in her thoughts) and it looked like the old lady was getting anything she needed.
-How are you, grandmother? –She always asked instead of saying “Hallo”.
-Oh, my child, how do you look? What do these dirty clothes mean? You should care more about how you look! And this hair! You’re so faint.
-I will try to improve this, I promise. – Mia always answered and grandmother complained about her health and some problems of the old age. She seemed to keep forgetting more details every day and she became meeker. She talked with Mia, which was a great surprise. She thought she was in a nursing home. It was somewhat strange to see her with all these problems she never had before and to hear her voice. She was a different person and her affection totally changed. Everything changed.
Lovefool (Introduction) Page 34