Wednesday, December 13, 2023

The Clay Tablets Of Vladichevsky: A Mystery Koan

 

He walked into the tea house in Odessa, the same

one where he had lost big playing Texas Hold ´Em  

twenty years ago. A strata of smoke floats in the air

about three feet from the ceiling. The moka/opium

perfume greets his nostrils like an old lover. It looks

like even the same people are there…shoremen

coats, pipes and long whiskers, drinking their steins

of beer…a few middle aged ladies who might be there

for any number of reasons…a old man in a corner,

book cased by two thugs…the eternal domino players.

 

He sat at a table, ordered whisky and majoun and

sucked in the Satie atmosphere…pre industrial (hell,

pre electrical!) sounds of animals, rope tightening,

water slapping the shore, creak of wagons, human

noises.

 

He was very close to the war. Sometimes he saw

distant lights of bombs going off at night from his

hotel window. He was there to collect something

of value to his team. It was all very spy like. What

he was involved with was known only to him and

his superior. He was a first time spy, a sleeper, not

know to the other side for any activity. He was a

¨burner¨….use once and throw away. That was

fine with him.

 

The location was perfect…old town, narrow dark

streets and alleys that curved and branched

continuously…hard to follow someone and easy

to get lost. He didn´t know whom he was waiting

for, or how they´d recognize him. That wasn´t his

problem. He had no problem just then. He just had

to sit and wait.

 

An old white lady came into the café, slowly, with

several bags of various descriptions and walked

over to his table.

 

¨Oh, young man, do you think that I could share

your table with you?  I´m a bit tired of walking.¨

she said, very grandmotherly like.

 

¨Certainly, please do. So, what is a sophisticated

older lady like you doing in this humble coffee

spot?¨

 

The old lady leans over and whispers in Jake´s

ear in a surprisingly masculine voice:  ¨Take the

green bag. Then, I´ll leave.¨

 

The lady turns into grandma smiles again and

hands Jake (not his name) a green bag. She

then pretends to make small talk, looks at her

watch and goes ¨OH!¨ makes apologetic sounds

and slips out of the shoppe.

 

Jake picks up the bag, but doesn´t look in it.

Whatever is in it weighs a few pounds. He

doesn´t want to know what it is. All he knows

is he has to get on the plane to St. Petersburg

tomorrow to catch a military plane to Florida.









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