It’s Not The World – It’s How You Look At It

‘Rykel.’

I look up to see Vermeer behind bars. For a moment or two I wonder what she’s done to deserve that, then realize it’s actually me behind them. But then I think that really it’s only a matter of perspective. She tries to slide them open but they’re locked.

‘Hey,’ she calls out to someone further down the corridor. ‘Hey, why’s this locked? You know who that is in there?’

A guard saunters into view, unhooking a large key chain from his belt. He takes an age deciding on the key. It’s got to be some kind of record. Finally he selects one, holds it up for a final inspection, then slips it into the lock.

He shrugs. ‘Just following orders.’

The key turns, the bars slide through each other like an optical illusion, and for a moment I feel on the verge of being catapulted back.

Vermeer steps into the cell. ‘C’mon, let’s get you out of here.’

They’d found me in Amsterdamse Bos, a call from a concerned citizen alerting them to my whereabouts. The panic was starting to subside as the two uniforms approached me, but I was still a long way from being coherent. That was hours ago, how many I’m not sure, but the dark undercurrent is still there, still pulling at me, sucking me down. I need cannabis, and quick. Or I risk going back.

Vermeer stands with me whilst the duty sergeant fetches the box and pulls out my keys and phone. No wallet. I query that. The man shrugs, hands me a bit of paper I don’t recall signing, relinquishing one set of keys. Nothing else. No vape. There’s a memory of it disappearing in water.

I turn to go.

‘Hey, what about your keys?’

I stare down at them, a single latch key and a Chubb, both shiny and worn from use.

‘The door they unlock no longer exists.’

He looks at me like I’m crazy. Which given my state when I was brought in is probably not surprising. I suddenly remember I had two sets, though, and Sabine’s aren’t here.

‘Where are the other ones?’

‘There are no other ones; these are the keys you had on you when you were brought in.’

‘No, that can’t be right. I had another set.’

I try to think back, remember what’s happened to them, but it’s hopeless, my memory a confusing jumble.

‘Why don’t you just take these?’ he says to me like I’m clearly unhinged and will regret it later.

I must’ve lost them. Fuck. I’m going to have to tell Sabine. I look at the keys to my houseboat. They’re vibrating, though no one else seems to see it.

‘No, really. Chuck ’em.’