Force’s Anxieties

1

Force no longer recognized his best friend.

It wasn't the fact that Cord began to work worse. No, he still performed his tasks responsibly, still carefully analyzed all the details, built versions, and in general, did nothing unusual to latch onto. Still, Force saw perfectly well that the fire no longer burned in his friend's eyes.

One day Force asked what had happened. Cord just shrugged.

"I think we're chasing a ghost."

Force couldn't argue with that. For three months, they had been looking for the killer and to no avail. One could easily just give up because of that, and this is what Force was worried about: Cord was one of those who are motivated by difficulties to act more zealously. What changed now?

Probably it was his girlfriend, Dia. Force saw the way Cord looked at her. Just like himself at Flaminga. Probably, this is adult family life, and Force liked it, but at the same time, he missed his sit-downs with Cord. They stocked up with beer and snacks, gathered at Force's apartment, and watched rented movies. Cord usually chose mindless and bloody action films and Force touching melodramas, over which his friend usually teased him.

How did it happen that they had become friends? The reason for this was the love of food and the peacefulness of Force, and the anger and adventurousness of Cord.

2

Exactly twelve years ago, on October 10, 1981, five fourth-year students of the Police Academy stumbled upon one nineteen-year-old bumpkin. He was sitting on the podium of the stadium and peacefully munching on a sausage in dough. The five could not just pass by.

Their leader approached Force and kicked him in the boot.

"Hey, fat ass. Why are you sitting here?"

Force winced but said nothing.

"Hey, am I talking to the wall here or what?"

"No," Force muttered under his breath.

"What?" the leader pretended not to hear.

"I'm just sitting here," Force said a little louder.

"You're just sitting here. Right?!" the leader whinnied and threw up his hands. His friends smiled. "But people like you have no right to 'just sit' here. Can't you see where you are? This is a place for sports. Not for fat asses."

"Okay, then I'll go…" Force tried to get up, but the leader pushed him back down.

"No, no, no, that won't work! Being fat is not good! So, fat ass, let's lose some weight. Get down and do some push-ups. Come on, come on."

Suddenly, from behind the assholes, a quiet but demanding voice was heard:

"Get the hell away from him."

The hooligans turned around.

"What did you say?" the leader barked.

"I asked if going to the dentist is expensive today."

The leader grinned.

"Are you serious, guy? Standing up for this piece of bacon?"

Cord took a step towards him.

"I'm fucking crazy."

Cord grabbed him by the lapels, pulled him closer, and smashed in his face with his forehead.

***

After the incident, they were almost expelled. Listening to the angry speech of the dean of the Police Academy, Force could hardly control himself. Everything in his life depended on his studies, and to get kicked out now meant destroying his future. The bruised and beaten Cord stood up straight, calmly looked into the dean's eyes, and after he was silent, against all etiquette and formalities, stated:

"Let's think about something else. Five future police officers decided to humiliate an unfortunate tactician, who had done absolutely nothing to them, and then this group could not get rid of just one 'evil' practitioner. So we have to ask: what kind of police is it that attacks the weak and cannot stand up to the strong?"

***

In fact, they had actually lost that fight. Cord knocked out two, but the remaining three knocked him to the ground and began to severely beat him. If it had not been for a lecturer passing by, the fight would not have ended well. Cord got away with a lot of bruises and a few cuts, which of course, could not be compared with the crack in the jaw of the leader of the hooligans.

Force later asked why Cord had stood up for him. The friend smiled:

"I did not stood up for you. I just wanted to beat someone up."

3

There was one thing that, for some unknown reason, caused Force a slight feeling of unease.

Flaminga had several tattoos on her body. On her left shoulder blade—a blossoming lily being tattooed by an inept hand. Below that—a cat curled up in a ball on a pillow. On her right thigh—a pink flamingo holding a snake in its beak. However, Force was disturbed by another tattoo located directly under her breasts—that of a raven. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for one thing: it was blue.

One evening, lying in bed with his woman, Force cautiously inquired:

"Listen, can you tell me about your tattoos?"

"What do you want to know?" Flaminga, who had been reading a paperback detective story, looked at him over the top of her reading glasses.

"Well… They all mean something, right?"

"Do you think there should be meaning everywhere?"

"Well, yes."

Flaminga grinned wryly.

"The lily is a symbol of purity, of innocence. It's the opposite of me. A girl put it on me when I was thirteen, guess why? The tattoo was not supposed to be permanent, but it happened." Flaminga laid the book on the bedside table. "The cat on the pillow is how I would like to always be—soft, fluffy, and comfortable. But life, no matter how you try, does not always go the way you want."

Flaminga fell silent. Force waited patiently.

"The pink flamingo with a snake in its beak is who I have become. You know, they are actually peaceful birds, and they feed on algae. Still, it does not work to be soft in journalism: there is nothing but bastards everywhere. Therefore, it seemed funny for me to become a bird that snakes wouldn't even come near, but still, it squeezes the snake in its beak because doing anything else is simply not an option."

"And the raven? If I understand correctly, it's a raven?"

"Exactly."

"Why is it blue?"

"Because in reality, it is black. Do you understand?"

"Not really…"

"It was a riot. My second tattoo. My best girlfriend and I did them when we were eighteen. I chose the bird, my friend chose the color. It is blue because of a riot. She explained it like this: 'Because ravens are black. And the blue raven is wrong. It is a black sheep, just like us'."

Force pretended to be satisfied with the explanation, albeit it had been bizarre, but the detective's intuition told him that Flaminga was lying.

But why would she do that?