The keys of the hermit

His stay in the city was certainly of a temporary nature, the polite young man told the landlady. His employer had instructed him to represent the interests of the firm in the city for a month. To the landlady, this merely meant that her tenant was a respectable hardworking man who would pay his rent on time, keep the room clean and not receive indecent visitors. The tenant did not seem offended that the landlady could not pronounce his name. He had one single suitcase with no stickers from distant sunny shores and one small briefcase without initials.

When friends asked the landlady about her new tenant on their weekly evening of cards, she could describe him as a neat, young businessman with slightly foreign manner of speaking. Even encouraged by the other ladies, she could not say that he had an exotic appearance, although he certainly could have come from the south. That was as far as her description went, but it was enough to make the tenant suffocate. He had gone to bed early and had been sleeping motionless until he woke up, violently coughing. In the room were two identical men with black overcoats and black gloves. One of them stepped towards the helpless tenant and calmly placed his gloved fingers in the mouth. The neat, young, southern tenant with the unpronounceable name was not capable of struggling while a man removed a copper key from his throat. The key was secured and the women on the card evening exchanged recipes. The landlady spoke highly of her daughter, who was in university and made the most wonderful salads.

The next morning he was sitting in a sober office. It was not decorated. The view might have been called spectacular, but nobody ever did so. Behind a desk with no photos in frames sat another young man. His suit too was impeccable. He was the man behind the desk. The man in front of him was the visitor. They had a conversation.
“The results are adequate,” said the man behind the desk.
”Nothing else to be expected,” answered the visitor.
The two men were silent. The man behind the desk wanted to inform after the reason of the visit, but decided not to. Instead he said: “I have worked hard.”
This the visitor could acknowledge. It was the reason of his visit. He asked: “What for?”
The man behind the desk summed up a number of objects and women in alphabetical order.
After this, the visitor left the building and became a pedestrian.

On his way to the apartment the pedestrian was overcome by a coughing fit. In an abandoned alley he fell on his knees. Confused he looked at the two identical men while one of them silently put his finger in the throat of the pedestrian and removed a key. After rearranging his suit, the pedestrian continued his way. He was thinking, not for the first time since he had arrived in this city. The word ‘dangerous’ was part of his considerations.
In the meantime his landlady prepared a meal, together with her daughter. This daughter had just returned from a distant land where she studied at a prestigious university. Normally the landlady did not cook so thoroughly for her tenant, but she wanted to introduce him to her daughter. When the landlady heard the bell, she poked the unmarried young woman with her elbow and greeted the tenant, who interrupted her introduction of the talented apple of her eye.

“A serious situation at the head-office demands my immediate return. The rent can be paid for the discussed full term.”
”Don’t you even want to have dinner?” the landlady objected. “You can hardly make such a long journey on an empty stomach?”
The tenant dismissed the just concern of the landlady. “I can take a fast meal somewhere on the road. I am sorry, but I cannot stay one moment longer. Please excuse me now, I must pack my luggage.”
While the tenant packed his suitcase in slight, invisible panic, the daughter told her mother that she would go and talk to him.
”That is an excellent idea, Portricia. You convince him with your charms and your excellent skills concerning salads.”
Portricia smiled. “I don’t think he is a vegetarian, mother.”

“You are willingly violating your contract,” a man in a black overcoat and black gloves said. “We hope that you choke,” added another identical man.
They had disappeared when Portricia entered the room. She kneeled down by the coughing man. She put his arm around her and looked kindly into his eyes. “I am here, Divés,” she spoke comforting. Her pupils took the shape of keyholes, framed in the dark green of her iris. The dark brown hair shone like a halo in the evening light coming in from the window. Divés kissed the eyes and whispered as if he had never been able to speak: “Beauty. Significance. Love.”