Birthday party

   Preparing a birthday party is always difficult and it get even more difficult when the person you are organizing it for is the least of your concerns. Friends and family. They are the real targets, the ones to please. Jim knew that Ari would like anything for his birthday but as it was the first one they celebrated together, he wanted to make it special. That why he had decided to invite every single meaningful person in Ari’s life and, of course, that meant inviting the parents and childhood friends.

 Now, they all knew about him being gay but some were surprised to know their friend was living already with a man. The phone conversations had been long and difficult but now everyone was invited and Jim just had to wait for them. They had to arrive just before Ari got from work in order to surprise him. Jim was a bit unsure about this, since it was likely that his boyfriend would not like the surprise. He was the kind of person that doesn’t like to mix business with personal, family with friends and so on. But being the special occasion it was, Jim thought that it was a good idea to have everyone be there for him, in one room, at least once.

  Jim, being as organized as he had always been, decided to organize every detail from early morning. Just after kissing Ari goodbye in the morning, he jumped into the shower and then called to a Spanish restaurant, where he had asked to have paella for at least twenty people. They confirmed his order and then he decided to go and pick up the cake and accompanying cupcakes to a pastry shop Ari had loved when he was a boy. There, a very nice lady gave some extra cupcakes to Jim and even gave him a cookie an some milk, to eat right there. He did exactly that, in order to please the lady and left fast after that.

 He then went to a wine store and bought six bottles of the same one but also some champagne, the same one they had taken at a recent new year’s party. He paid for that and returned home because it did not felt right to drive around with a load of bottles in the back seat, with the cake and at least fifty cupcakes. Jim organized everything in the dining table and was about to go out for some party supplies when the phone rang.

  At first no one talked and Jim was to busy thinking so he hung up immediately but the phone rang again and he answered it. This time someone talked: it was Ari’s father. Jim went white and cold in a matter of seconds and wasn’t able to say anything. There was silence for a while until Ari’s father spoke again and told Jim he wasn’t going to be able to go to the party. He said he was busy that day, helping some friends with some handiwork. According to him, he had committed to it days earlier so it was going to be impossible to assist. Then, not even waiting for Jim to say anything, he hung up.

 The sounds of the phone’s tone made Jim comeback to reality. He had always been afraid of Ari’s father and that’s why he hadn’t been able to say anything. Besides, it was obvious he was making up excuses, because he seemed to be coming up with things as he was speaking. Towards the end of the call, he wanted to say something, to demand for him to be there for his son, but he knew couldn’t just do that. He had tried to contact Ari’s father before but Ari himself had asked him not to do that. Ari’s parents were divorced and he had been estranged from his father since then.

 Ari’s mother was much more fun to be around. She had had several boyfriends after leaving Ari’s father and that seemed to have given her a new way to look at life. She was now very open and often asked them about advice, even in very intimate areas. Jim always laughed at it but complied and advised her the best he could. Lena, that was her name, had told him once that she only felt like a housewife when living with her former husband. She never complained because she loved taken care of her son and her husband but she did want more from life. According to her, that was the real reason she left him. That and the affair she had discovered he was having with, as he put it, the “neighborhood’s whore”.

 Jim was already in a store choosing plastic cups and plates when is cellphone rang. It was Ari. He was having lunch with his work buddies and had decided to call him in order to organize his birthday surprise. For a second, Jim thought Ari knew everything about the party but then he realized Ari was talking about their special time together that they always had in special occasions. Ari started telling Jim everything he was going to do with Jim on the phone. He only smiled and said nothing because in every aisle there was some other buyer and it would have been strange to start having “phone sex” right there.

 After hanging up, Jim realized he still lacked napkins and the candle for the cake. He was looking at some funny candles when someone pushed him against the display area. Some candles fell to the floor and Jim rapidly turned to the man that had pushed him and told him to fuck off. The man turned around and Jim realized he had seen him before but couldn’t quite remember whom he was or where he had seen him.

 The man got near and Jim was already clenching his fists. It was the man that hit first, right on Jim’s nose. Hurt and disoriented, Jim threw a punch and was lucky enough to hit the man’s stomach. He dropped his basked and started punching the guy and the guy punched him until some store clerks came in and stopped them. But of them had bloody noses and marks all over their faces. Jim had even ripped the guy’s shirt on the sleeve. Both men had no breath in them when they were stopped and separated. The police came and each one of them explained their version to the policeman who decided to let them go with a warning. Jim got to pay for his stuff and left right for home. He had no idea if he had anything else to do but he wasn’t in the mood.

 Driving back home, he remembered why he knew that guy in the store. He had been Ari’s former boyfriend, the one before himself. Jim had met Ari first when he was still with him but nothing happened between them then. It was only when they met again in a party, when Ari had already ended the relationship that their relationship started.

 He remembered the guy from that time so long ago and now they had gone into a fistfight in a party shop. The man had pushed him hard and Jim knew it was because he had recognized him. Apparently the guy knew about him and Ari and was jealous that someone was with his former boyfriend. Besides, it was obvious he had anger issues because who does that to another person in a public place? Jim knew he had thrown punches too but he felt nothing would have happened if the guy hadn’t turned around.

 Putting all the party stuff on the table, he reminded himself of the crazy look in the guy’s face. At one point, he even thought he wanted to kill him and Jim thought he was ready to do exactly the same for him. It had been a very animal like fight. After putting everything on place, he looked at himself on a mirror and realized he had a black eye and his lips had cuts. Besides, his nose was bleeding a bit. He found some glasses in order to divert attention from his eye and put some toilet paper in his nose. On the lips, only lip balm to make them look less crooked.

 Just then, people started pouring in and, luckily enough, no one noticed anything strange. He started hanging out wine glasses and just then the paella people arrived. The pan that they had brought was huge and it smelled delicious. They just had to put lemon on it and it would be ready. Most guests arrived early but Jim realized almost all of them were their friends or close relatives who they knew very well. All others, Ari’s college buddies and cousins were not there. The last person to arrive before Ari was his mother who had brought her best friend, a cute short blonde woman.

 Then, after 7 PM, the doorbell rang. Jim turned off the lights and people hid behind the furniture or just crouched to the ground. Then, the door was opened and Ari was smiling like a small child, happy to see so many friendly faces in his home. The last person to greet him was Jim, who gave him a big kiss and a hug. Ari noticed is bruises but told him he wasn’t going to ask anything that night. They kissed again and the party formally started. From then on, everyone ate paella and rank wine and chatted their ears off for several hours until it was time for the birthday cake, which was shaped like a big planet Earth because of Ari’s passion for astronomy.

 They were handing out pieces of cake when the doorbell rang again and it was one of the doormen. Jim gave him a piece of cake and the man thanked him but said he had come to give them a package a man had left earlier. He had being adamant about giving it later in the evening, so the doorman had complied. Jim received the package, a box and thanked the doorman. He went back to the table and gave the package to Ari. Everyone looked in silence as he took off the rapping paper. The box was a toolbox and inside was a toy, a Batman figurine. Ari’s eyes were watery but he laughed and kept opening presents.

 That night, when everyone left, Ari confessed to Jim that that gift had been from his father. He knew it because he had given him that Batman when he was a boy, in order to protect him when coming from work. Jim kissed him to comfort him and Ari did the same, just by the black eye which hurt and made them both laugh in their bed.

El diario

   Era demasiado curioso. Demasiado curioso para darle el libro al mesero y dejar que todo terminara justo allí. Podía haberlo hecho pero prefirió tomarlo y empezar a leer allí mismo. El libro no era un libro común y corriente. De hecho, era un diario. No parecía tener historias interesantes ni relatos secretos sino más bien anotaciones aburridas del tipo “reunión a tal hora” o “No olvidar comprar leche”. Por lo visto el dueño del diario jamás había oído de los celulares o los computadores. Era increíble que alguien, a estas alturas del mundo, siguiera anotando sus compromisos y otras cosas.

 La letra era probablemente de un hombre, no era redondeada como la de la mayoría de las mujeres y muchos hombres. De pronto era el diario de un hombre mayor, era lo más seguro ya que quien más usaría una agenda de ese tipo? Jorge, quien había encontrado el diario, prefirió echarlo a su mochila y seguirlo mirando en su casa. Ya era muy tarde para devolverlo sin que fuese extraño y tenía que esperar a que hermana llegara para hablar de algo que no sabía bien que era.

 El mesero vino a tomar su orden pero Jorge solo pidió una limonada. Su hermana entonces lo llamó y le dijo que no iba a poder llegar y que deberían dejarlo para otro día. Aburrido de la actitud de su hermana, que creía que el tenía todo el tiempo de la vida para desperdiciar, decidió irse sin esperar la limonada. Tomó su mochila y solo salió, sin decir nada. No había caminando cinco cuadras cuando alguien lo haló por el hombro con fuerza. Al momento se sintió asustado y lo que hizo fue echarse para delante y tratar de soltarse. Lo logró y salió corriendo, sin ver quien era su atacante. Corrió unas dos calles hasta que sintió que no podía más. Para no parecer Entró entonces a una tienda y fingió que buscaba algo cuando en verdad solo buscaba recuperar su aliento.

 Cuando se pudo calmar, fue a salir de la tienda pero había un hombre parado afuera, apoyado contra un poste. Aunque no había visto a su atacante, ese hombre bien podría ser quien lo había halado y casi lo hace caerse de espaldas. Preocupado, se quedó paralizado allí pensando en que hacer. Pero como pasa seguido en la vida, a veces lo necesario ocurre sin que tenga uno que hacer nada. Alguien tratando de arrancar su automóvil, sufrió un desperfecto y el motor explotó con fuerza. No hubo nada que no volteara a mirar, incluido el tipo del poste.

 Jorge aprovechó la masa de chismosos que habían salido a la calle a mirar para salir con rapidez y caminar en sentido opuesto al hombre. Caminaba rápido y no vio la hora de llegar a su casa lo más pronto posible. Afortunadamente, le había pedido a su hermana que se vieran cerca de su casa, entonces solo estaba a un par de calles más. Cuando estuvo a punto de llegar, unos niños jugando con un balón se lo lanzaron al pecho y él hábilmente se los mandó de vuelta. Pero al hacer eso, tuvo que darse la vuelta y vio como el hombre del poste venía subiendo por su misma calle. Los niños caminaron hacia él, riendo y jugando pero Jorge casi tropieza con sus pies al darse la vuelta para salir corriendo hacia su edificio, que estaba en la esquina. Llegó hasta allí sudando y respirando acaloradamente, de nuevo. Su portero se le quedó mirando y le preguntó si le pasaba algo. Jorge le dijo que lo habían intentado robar y que el tipo parecía haberlo seguido. El portero se asomó por la puerta pero dijo que no veía a nadie. No importaba. Jorge le agradeció y se dirigió al ascensor, llegando a su pequeño apartamento momentos después.

 Sin pensarlo mucho, se echó en el sofá y exhaló, aliviado de estar en un lugar donde sí se sentía seguro. Se preguntó porque un ladrón lo seguiría durante tanto tiempo, como si no hubiera más personas a quienes robar. Pero entonces, entre soñoliento y despierto, cayó en cuenta que de pronto el tipo no era un ladrón sino el dueño del diario. Pero si lo era, porque no decirlo en voz alta? Todo hubiese sido más fácil así. No, seguramente era un ladrón que lo había visto entrar y por la mochila había pensado que tenía mucho dinero o algo de valor. Uno nunca sabe como actúan los ladrones.

 Solo para estar seguro, buscó el número de teléfono del restaurante y preguntó si alguien había estado hace poco buscando un diario. Mintió, diciendo que era de su hermana pero él lo había tomado para guardárselo. La persona que le respondió le contó que ninguna mujer había venido a buscarlo pero si un joven como de unos treinta años, con chaqueta negra y rapado. Jorge agradeció y su corazón dio un salto porque el hombre del poste era exactamente como la persona del restaurante había dicho. Entonces el tipo sí buscaba el diario… Pero no era de él porque entonces hubiese dicho algo. O al menos eso hubiese sido lo normal.

 Jorge se puso de pie, ya incapaz de pensar en nada más. Sacó el diario de la mochila y lo miró esta vez con detenimiento. Pasó cada página y leyó cada apartado pero no había nada que pareciera importante. Eran notas aburridas y, por como escribía su dueño, la personas debía no ser muy distinta a las notas que dejaba. Lo único extraño era que las tapas del diario eran de un cuerpo extraño y resultaban algo gordas, como muy rellenas para algo tan simple. Había visto cuadernos que podían ser diario en una papelería pero normalmente eran pequeños y de tapa delgada, con algún caucho para evitar que se deformara.

 Dejó el diario en la mesa de la sala y se dirigió a la cocina. De la nevera cogió una lata de cerveza y la abrió, tomando casi la mitad de un solo sorbo. Al fin de cuentas estaba bastante cansado. Había corrido más de lo que había corrido en el último mes y las calles de su barrio eran de subida, lo que lo hacía aún más incomodo.  No era alguien que fuese al gimnasio y su trabajo como asistente en una firma de arquitectos no le dejaba mucho tiempo para ponerse a hacer ejercicio. Lo que más le gustaba era nadar pero casi no tenía oportunidad de hacerlo.

 De pronto, sonó el timbre de la portería y Jorge contestó. El portero dijo que había un hombre con un paquete para él pero que no podía dejarlo porque el destinatario, o sea Jorge, debía firmar para dejar en claro que había recibido la caja. Jorge le dijo al portero que ya bajaba pero este entonces dijo que había dejado al hombre del correo seguir. Jorge le dijo que nadie podía seguir así no más pero entonces se oyó un sonido raro, como un soplido o un silbido y el portero no hablo más. Alguien colgó el auricular y Jorge no oyó más.

 Preocupado, le puso seguro a la puerta y guardó el diario de nuevo en la mochila. Y a la mochila la metió a la nevera, el único lugar en el que pudo pensar, antes de que sonara el timbre del apartamento. Jorge cerró la nevera con cuidado y entonces se acercó a la puerta. De pronto no era lo más inteligente, pero  quería oír a ver si la persona del otro lado decía algo. Pensó que si se quedaba en silencio, el hombre se iría pensando que no estaba. Obviamente, era un pensamiento inocente e incluso estúpido. Después de timbrar varias veces, el tipo empezó a golpear la puerta con fuerza.

 Del otro lado, Jorge oyó que uno de sus vecinos salía y le pedía silencio a quien estaba justo frente a la puerta del joven pero entonces se escuchó el silbido de nuevo y una mujer gritó. Otro silbido y más golpes fuertes en la puerta, como si la quisieran tumbar. Jorge pensó en esconderse en su cuarto pero entonces el hombre partió la puerta a patadas. Obviamente no era ningún cartero, ni tenía una caja para él. Lo único que tenía en una mano era una pistola con silenciador, que apuntaba firmemente a la cabeza de Jorge.

-       - Donde está el diario?

Jorge estaba aterrado. No podía moverse pero tampoco podía emitir ningún tipo de sonido. El hombre tomó la pistola con ambas manos y, cuando se movió acercándose a él, Jorge pudo ver que en el pasillo había dos personas muertas y un charco de sangre.

-       - El diario!

-       - No sé de que me habla.

-       - No se haga el idiota. Usted lo cogió.

 Obviamente en el restaurante le habían dicho quien se había sentado en esa mesa después de que dejaran el diario tirado. Pero Jorge seguía pensando que era muy raro que alguien matara al menos dos personas para que le devolvieran su diario. Simplemente no tenía sentido.

El hombre se le acercó de nuevo y le puso la punta de la pistola en la frente. Estaba tibia. Le exigió que le diera el diario pero Jorge no podía hablar ni hacer nada bajo presión. Cuando vio el brazo del hombre flexionar, abrió la boca, a punto de decir donde estaba la mochila.

 Entonces se escuchó otro silbido y el hombre del poste cayó al piso, con un tiro en la cabeza. En el pasillo, afuera del apartamento, había una mujer. Le apuntó al ahora al hombre hasta estar segura de que estaba muerto y cuando lo estuvo, miró a Jorge.

-       - Tiene el diario?

 Esta vez Jorge asintió sin dudar. La mujer bajó el arma y le dijo que lo esperaría abajo. Le dijo que tomara lo necesario y el diario y que no se demorara porque la policía iba a llegar en un momento. Antes de que la mujer saliera de la habitación, Jorge le preguntó, casi sin aliento, si el diario era de ella. La mujer sonrió.

-       - No. Pero conozco al dueño.

Jorge pasó saliva.

Strange Antarctica

   Someone had killed Doctor Pong. And however it was, had not cared about cleaning afterwards. The blood coming from the good doctor’s body had already frozen, formed a pretty disturbing picture for anyone who went into the storage room. He was lying there, eyes open, against the wall opposite to the door. It was windowless room and the killer had known that. It was obvious he had known where to look for the doctor, who was probably hiding, as the storage room was fool of brooms and buckets, not really what he used in his experiments.

 The strangest part of it all was the method the killer had used: an arrow. He had pointed it right between the eyebrows and had nailed just that spot. Of course, the distance was quite short so the shot may have not been that difficult to do but it looked scary all the same. The arrow was long and had pierced the skull all the way to the back, touching the wall behind the head with the metal tip. The body still had the expression of fear the doctor had experienced in his last moments and the weather helped it to get preserved for a long time, which made the job of checking the scene, much more ominous than usual.

 The crime had occurred in what it’s known as Queen Maud Land. Although Antarctica is in the practice a free land, Norway claims this portion of the continent. The mountains look like razor blades and the snow appears to be whiter than in any other part of this land. And there, in Troll station, Mr. Georg Pong had died from an arrow to the head. The media, of course, had a feast with the whole “murder on Antartica” story. And to be frank, it did seem ridiculous than someone had been so skilled to kill someone and then escape without a lot of means to do it. And they hadn’t been able to catch him or her.

 Norway’s government took almost a week to send two detectives: Nora Fröm and Erik Stavanger. They were both specialized in strange crime scenes but this one was by far the strangest one. On the boat from South Africa, both agents discussed how they were going to approach the investigation. They had seen several pictures taken by the scientist that had found Dr. Pong and they all pointed out to a chase inside and outside the complex. They were only a few buildings in the small compound so it wasn’t going to take very long.

 At arrival, they had to join a group of scientists that greeted them on to some snowmobiles. The journey to the facility was long and cold, during which the scientists discussed the real utility of being there. The man was already dead and the attackers had to be really far by now, if not dead. The government had wanted to show action but what the two detectives could actually do about the case wasn’t much. They had agreed that their prime concern would be to know everything about how it happened more than trying to actually catch someone. That was very difficult and, anyway, if they tracked the killer’s first steps, maybe they could investigate where he or she came from.

 The station was a small group of red containers overlooking the continental ice sheet. It was very small and not many people lived there during the year. The normal number was around nine but Dr. Pong had been alone the day he died. Ellie Warren, a friend and fellow scientist, was waiting there for them. She gave them a tour of the facility and led them to the storage room where the doctor’s body was still laying. She told them that no one had spent a night since the day of the events, in order to avoid contaminating the scene. Only the group that found him had touched some things but they had been kind enough to point everything out in a report.

 When entering the storage room, both Nora and Erik trembled. The man’s was looking at them, there on the frame of the door. It was strange how an empty body could seem so alive. They then started taking pictures with a special camera and asked Ellie to tell everyone they were going to comb the scene so they needed the station to be closed to any visitors. She nodded and disappeared, talking to a walkie-talkie. The duo took pictures of every single centimeter of the body. They didn’t dare to move it, afraid that the action would break the stream of frozen blood coming out of his forehead.

 It was an eerie sight, to see such brutality but at the same time, realizing how careful the killer actually was. They found no hairs around the body, nor the killer’s weapon. Only the arrow was still inside the doctor’s skull and they decided it was best to remove it only when they had finished doing everything else. The corpse was wearing the jacket normally used for the outside, so that indicated the doctor was outside when he was attacked or that he went out during a persecution. That wasn’t clear but he must have been outside at some point that day.

 When they checked the records of the day, doctor Pong had noted several things on his log. He had apparently been working on some ice sheet tubes they had extracted earlier that month from a field not very far from the station. The detectives, of course, had no idea what it all meant, but they realized he had worked on that during the day. The last thing he noted though was far more interesting than everything else: he had written, “The heating system seems to be malfunctioning. It’s freezing inside. I have to go out and check the heater”.

 The detectives put on their jackets and asked Ellie about the heather and she joined them to it. It was located in a shed outside, about ten meters from the main entrance. There, they found that the door to the shed was open but nothing else pointed to the murder. Ellie checked the heater and told them everything was ok, which they already knew because the temperature inside the station was very pleasant. When back inside, Ellie told them she had to leave because she was needed in another station but that she would be back in a few hours. She reminded the detectives that it was summer in Antarctica, so eternal daylight was the norm. She showed them a couple of bed they could sleep if they needed to. She said goodbye and left in her snowmobile.

 The duo continued the investigations but, as expected, they weren’t going anywhere with all of it. They had found hairs in the lab and other rooms but that was probably Ellie’s or some other scientist that had been there before. She explained the doctor was alone when he was killed because all the other scientists had been called to another base as a great discovery had been made and the transmission from a Russian base could only be received in the other station. He decided to stay behind for a day and just wait for them to return and tell them the news.

 After checking every single part of the base, which was the size a of a single person’s apartment, they decided to eat something. The food looked like the ones they gave to astronauts and it taste just as they expected it to taste, so they continued their work rather fast. As Nora checked the doctor’s computer, Erik checked the storage room and the body once more.

 Some hours had pass when Nora called Erik, saying she had found something. Many of the other cases they had solved were all about love and envy and how to combine that with the thirst for revenge and so on. She builds up on that and decided to look for secret folders or hidden archives in the doctor’s computer and Norma had found just that. It was an invisible folder and had only five pictures. When the couple saw them, they couldn’t help feeling surprised at them.

 Each and every one of those pictures showed a younger Ellie Warren, with longer hair and a certain glow to her, fully naked on five different poses. It was obvious she was aware of the photographer but the pictures were certainly not new as the women in the pictures looked in her twenties, or even younger, and doctor Warren was at least fifty years old. Why would Pong have those pictures in his laptop? Had he known her before she became a scientist? Was he the photographer? Both Nora and Erik were baffled at the pictures but couldn’t make sense of them. Where them even meaningful to they investigation?

 Then, an explosion was heard outside the station. Nora and Erik ran out to see the heater shed had burst into flames and some of the pieces were burning on the snow, others already freezing. Why had that happened? And then Nora grabbed Erik’s arm. She knew exactly what had happened. It was Ellie. She had been the only one of them to actually enter the shed. It had been working fine with them but it had failed when Pong had been killed. And now it had exploded.

 Their conclusion was that Ellie had done the same thing that day. They decided to check with the nearest station, where the scientists had gone to check on the news. The radio wasn’t working very well but it was confirmed Ellie had not been there with them. According to the person in charge, she had stayed behind with Pong. So there.... It had to be her. She was the killer. But why? And where was she now. The man said she wasn’t there today either.

 Nora was looking at the screen and then noticed Erik wasn’t talking. And he actually wasn’t breathing anymore. He fell to the floor, with an arrow on his head. Nora had no time to be scared as she saw Ellie holding a crossbow.

- Couldn’t leave you here with the evidence. Sorry.