A Nordic Man Comes Looking

{Today, 9 A.M., North Bergen, New Jersey-- }

A young man with shaggy reddish blond hair walks into his second class of the day. He is late. It is strange that anyone would be late for a second peirod, because you basically walk from your first class to your second class.

Although it is strange that he comes to the class late, his high school teacher in the class didn't say anything. This kid is intimidating, at least physically. He is 6 foot 4 tall, which is about 1 meter and 92 centimeters tall. The teacher doesn't want to say anything since he is only just starting to do the roll call.

"Leif Eiriksson." The teacher calls the tall kid's name as he sits down.

"Here," He raises his long arm up.

Leif Eiriksson is a new transfer student from somewhere north. No one is sure exactly where yet, since this new semester has just started yesterday. No one has really talked to Leif yet. A girl sitting next to him in this class is curious. She has seen him in cafeteria during lunch yesterday. She decides to talk to him when the teacher turns around to write somethin on the white board.

"Hey. My name is Erica actually we both of "Eric" in our names, Haha!"

"Mine is Eirik though. Not Eric."

This girl brushes it off with that usual teenage girl attitude, "Oh my god. Whatever. You have an interesting name. I hear you are from Canada?" She twirls her hair.

"Yah."

"You have an accent."

"Maybe I do."

"You are probably 18 already, right? You look a little more mature than all of us."

"Yah."

"That's very cool. Um, what have you been doing all summer? Have you even been in our neighborhood much? I don't think anyone has seen you around the neighborhood." Erica asks.

"Just, unwinding, getting adjusted to the new environment after moving here, trying to look for someone I am looking for."

"Oh?" Erica smiles. She wonders if "looking for someone" means if he is looking for a girlfriend or something like that. She bashes her eyelashes, deciding if she flirt some more.

The biology teacher coughs to try to get Erica to stop talking in class. Erica pretends to look at the white board for a second, but then she quickly directs her attention back to this new student.

Leif has a serious look on his face. His eyes seem to want to tell you a long story that doesn't end well. But his features are handsome. Just rough and cold. His blue eyes are like two ice cubes, so pale that they are almost transparent. He has strong and broad shoulders that make him look like he could have been an action comic book hero.

"So... who are you looking for? Or... what are you looking for?" Erica has decided to flirt some more.

"I'm looking for a girl whose name is Nitte Hollow Horn. I'm not sure if I pronounce it correctly. But I don't suppose you have heard of her?"

Erica looks surprised.

"Yah, I figured you haven't heard of her. So, let's focus on the class. Please." Leif tightens his grip on the pen he is holding. And he accidentally bends the pen and he releases it. As soon as he sets the pen down, the pen breaks and some ink leaks out.

Leif mutters a word to himself. It is a word in a foreign language that no one in this classroom understands.

*** ***

Bob and Jack are now on their way to North Bergen Police Department in New Jersey to find out about the two victims, because the victims' ID cards show the same address in North Bergen.

Both Bob and Jack have been pretending that they are not suspicious of anything on the crime scene. They drive as they chat with each other about non-important things. Such as the shrimp dumplings they ate the other day. But they don't chat with Rosanne.

Rosanne, however, can't stand that she is now being ignored.

"Excuse me, so, um, what did you guys find? I didn't see you guys questioning the witness." Rosanne asks, leaning towards the dividing shield in the middle of the police vehicle.

Bob laughs, "Oh. I think you took the witness statement very well. There is no need to ask the witness anymore. So, I will trust what you have put in the report," Bob winks at the rearview mirror, which Rosanne can see.

"And, why are we going to New Jersey?"

"Can't you guess it already? I am sure you can guess it." Bob says with a sarcastic tone. Bob seems to be a little harsh towards Rosanne.

"Um. I guess, the victims were from New Jersey?"

"Yup." Jack answers this time.

"OK. I think I'll drop my act now. I can read lips. A little bit. I'm not super good at it, but I think you guys were saying something about... um... finding there were two small bullet holes on the victims?"

Bob widens his eyes and hikes his eyebrows, "Wow. Not bad. Where did you learn how to read lips?"

"That's not important right now," Rosanne frowns, "The important thing is, if you think there are gun shots, then you will not believe the witness."

"How so?" Jack asks this time.

"Because, the witness did not report seeing gun shots. He only reported the animal bites. So that made him sound like he omitted some important facts."

"So, what are you trying to say?" Jack asks again.

"I think there are a few possibilities. 1. The homeless person only saw a strange half animal half human type of creature attacking the two victims when the two victims already were on the pavement, dying from the bullets. 2. The homeless person didn't want to tell us about the gunshots because he is afraid of retaliation--"

Bob cuts in, "I'm going to stop you right there. You apparently know this whole thing smells fishy. You can save all the excuses now."

Rosanne looks like she just swallowed a bubble, her cheeks are round.

"Let me finish, Bob. You are such a misogynist. The number 3 possibility is, someone is trying to get someone's attention with this double-homicide."

"Well, Rosanne, this crime has our attention. You are not really telling us anything we don't know." Bob says.

Rosanne opens her mouth, quite enraged. She looks like she really wants to say something but she can't tell them. She exhales, shaking her head. She decides to not say anything otherwise it will be suspicious. Although, she will reveal it sooner or later. Yeah. Rosanne has a secret as well.

For now, she is still very angry at Bob.

"Bob, let me help you with a little bit of updated information about New York City. Hell's Kitchen is no longer a dangerous neighborhood. You repeatedly say how you think it is unsafe and that it is strange for the two victims to walk through there. Well, you are wrong. Hell's Kitchen is a young and hip area where a lot of Broadway actors and other small-time performers live. The rent is very expensive there. Most people living there and walking around there are not that poor as you presume."

Bob shakes his head, "I know Hell's Kitchen has been gentrified and different now. But there are still quite a lot of alcohol-related or drug-related incidents reported in that area. It is over all what I would call a high-risk area, exactly because there are a lot of young actors. And regardless how safe that neighborhood has become, it is still strange that someone would attack them there and not take their valuables. Come on. You know this is a forged crime. Just.... Stop saying anything. You basically helped file a false police report."

Rosanne is still full of rage towards what Bob is saying, "I did not falsify anything. As far as anyone is concerned, I took down the witness report. And lastly, please don't call me Annie. You sound like a creepy old guy from the 70s who is a chain smoker and gives women nicknames after slapping their butts."

Upon hearing this, both Jack and Bob are stunned, mouths agape. Jack then bursts into bouts of laughter.

"Hahahahahahahaha. Oh Bob. You do kind of make people feel like you're from a different time. But I like that Rosanne calls you out. You are like that super old-fashioned detective Dick Tracy from the 1930s and then reprised again in 1970s."

"I did not say he looks like an old-fashioned detective. I said he behaved like a creepy old guy who did not respect women!" Rosanne huffs.

Bob is now embarrassed, his face flushed. Honestly, Bob hasn't interacted with a lot of young people these days. The only people he talks to the most are the ghosts/spirits, who are probably from another older era.

Oh Bob. You need to be careful not just about not showing your face. You should change your old man attitude.