Moratorium

It seemed to have become a habit for Nichelle that every morning she would walk down the dirt road running across the wide grass plains, which stretched across the front of her home. It was a nice walk, with all its fresh airs, and sceneries, and today was a particularly good day as the sky stretched across in gradient of blue, slightly stroked with wisp of cloud. It also seemed to have become a habit for Nichelle to stop her trip at the mail box resting in the intersection as the dirt path collides with the side of a local highway. Though, it was hardly a highway at all, with its unrepaired road, and no cars ever in sight.

She opened the cover and glanced inside, several mails stacked on top of another. She took them out and sifted through them, separating bills and ads from the clump, putting them under her arms to throw out later. There wasn’t much left after the initial filtration. Only one postcard remained, which Nichelle thinks to be slightly scented in tobacco. Like most other postcard she had received, this one had no return address, and she had stopped thinking of tracking the sender down, and accepts things as the way it is. She flipped it back and looked through its content, smiling slightly as she did so.

“How are you? Are you eating well? The summer heat is rather extreme this year, so watch out for yourself alright?”

She tucked the postcard along with the rest, and closed the lid of the mail box, and began her usual walk back to her house.

However, today was slightly unusual. As a black BMW made its way down the road and stopped at the intersection, a few meters away from the mail box. Curious Nichelle stopped and looked back at the car, as two men stepped out, both sporting a slightly long trench coat with a felt hat placed slightly tilted on their head.

“Ms. Amber?” the man on the left asked, standing slightly slouched, with his lips drooping slightly to his right. His eyes looked tired, half closed as his pupil stared out from the bottom half. Wrinkles marked his face, and announced his age around 50. Well shaven, and groomed. He reminded Nichelle of an uncle.

“Yes, anything the matter?” She looked at both, with slight interest, it isn’t often that she get visitors.

It was the man on the right who replied this time. He had a dead look about him. He’s younger of the two, but holds about the same amount of energy as his partner. His lips are thin, which moved nimbly as he spoke, “I’m detective John Morrison, and this is my partner Sam Pitch,” John pulled out his identification as introduced himself, and walked up to Nichelle extending his hand, “We are very glad to meet you.”

“I guess you already know my name,” she took his hand, a rough cold feeling, not the hand of man who spent his entire life in a office cubicle, “Detective Morrison, nice to meet you,” she then shook the other man’s head, “Detective Pitch, nice to meet you too. So, what did I do to acquire the company of two gentlemen such as yourself?”

“Nothing,” John spoke, “We are just here to ask you a few questions about the Von Weiss Case.”
“I see,” Nichelle spoke simply.
“If it is at all possible, could we do this at the comfort of your home?”
“Sure, but it’s a bit of a far walk.”
“My partner and I could drive you back, if you prefer.”
“No, I think I’ll walk.” She hoped it would deter them, but it didn’t.
“No problem, it’s rare for us to take a nice hike anyway.”

Nichelle tried not to talk too much on the way, but it was made difficult as Detective John would throw questions at her every few second. About her birthplace, relatives, associations, and also…

“How well do you know a man by the name of Jack?”
“There are many Jacks, I know some, I don’t know many.”
“Jack Rabbit.”

Nichelle tried to form the most intimidating smile she could muster, “Does he have to do with the Von Weiss case also?”
“Well, he was present, so I would say he is.”
“I know him, yes.”
“Communicate with him often?”
“Not really, I haven’t seen him since everything ended.” It was the truth.
“I see,” John paused, and muttered a few words to his partner, and jotted in a handbook some notes. “Ms. Amber, another question…”
“Detective John, not to be rude. But I haven’t eaten, and I’m in a hurry to get back, so can we save the question, until I got something things to eat?”
“Perfect, I haven’t eaten either, can we join you?”
“Sure,” Nichelle replied, a look of agitation clearly on his face, and the two detectives seemed to have ignored it.

A few minutes later, Nichelle settled down at her kitchen table with a cup of hot coco in her hand. Having something to eat calmed her down a little, and she think she’s ready to whatever John would throw at her. “Detectives, the Von Weiss case was closed five years ago, and technically I don’t have to answer anything you ask regarding it, neither do you have the right to ask me anything about it. If your superior knows this, you will get penalties. Why the risk?”

“Risk is nothing in the lines of passion. When the case was under investigation, we small timers were left on the side and the Feds did everything, and slipped nothing. And for our line of work, that’s torturous, to know nothing.”

“Can’t you check the documentations; you must be able to search that out right?”

“That’s what we spent the five years doing. We even got our hands on the diaries the patients kept in their room. However, the problem is the diaries are blank after the night Ethane’s group rebelled. After that, it’s just rumors. Even the story to what happened to that kid Basil. There were witnesses, but nothing solid. It was known that the kid had a bit of multi-personality. And, whatever happened that night, drove the kid enough to go through the windows. Some say it looked like he was trying to reach for the moon or something, but we thought he just lost it. Curious thing is, no one found the body. Even Von Weiss claimed he didn’t know. Some say he was carried off, buried under an unmarked grave, Some say his body was burnt in a furnace. Some others even claimed that it was all planned. That his alter ego never wanted to rebel against Von Weiss, and simply tagged along with Ethan’s group to find an escape path, and chose the window instead.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s crazy. It’s a four storey building, and he got a missing hand. Sure there’s a tree below, but trying to grab hold of it with that acceleration is going to snap your wrist. So who’s going to save him eh? An angel?”

“Why don’t you talk to some of the patients?”

John and Sam stared at each other then back at Nichelle, “Well…”

“It’s hard to trust someone who was declared insane isn’t it?”
“Please don’t misunderstand; it’s just that a lot of things that happened were pretty…to say the least. Abnormal.”
“How is questioning me going to help? I was a patient too wasn’t I?”
“Please don’t take this personally; we are just trying to get as much information as we can.”
“You know, I could just kick you guys out right now, because from what I’ve heard so far, you are just reopening old wounds to satisfy your passion. And to be honest, I don’t care.”
“What if we have something to offer?”
Nichelle raised her eyebrow, curious. “And what is that?”
“We can help you find Jack.”
A soft laugh slipped through Nichelle’s lips, as she shook her head.

“Don’t believe it?”
“You must know that I asked people to find him before.”
“Yes, I do, some of which are my acquaintances.”
“Then you must also know, the only person who knows where Mr. Rabbit is is Mr. Rabbit himself.”
“How can you be so sure?”

Nichelle went over to the closet and lifted, and bent down to lift up a cardboard box from the corner. She brought the box over, and opened the cover. Inside are layers after layers of cards, different sizes, texture, and image, but all carried the same style of writing.

“Jack Rabbit send these every week, since he went missing, and this is the only thing that verifies his existence. Over the past years, many people looked through these to try and find clues, and got nothing. By now, he must of traveled the world, so you think got the clues to locate him?”

Detective Morrison exchanged glances with detective Pitch, and then looked back at Nichelle in silence.

Nichelle sat back down, and sipped her coco. Brown eyes in a subtle calm. “If you really want to know what happened, I can tell you. But there’s one thing I want to know. What will you do after?”

“Not too sure. You are right, we are just nosy,” John replied, “We want to know the end, the wrap.”

“Can’t you accept the way things are? As a tragedy? It isn’t uncommon to have tragedies in life. Like the war which made Von Weiss the way he is, or the society that made us the way we are.”

“But we are childish, we don’t want a bedtime story with a cliffhanger.”
“Well, I can’t promise you’ll like the whole story.”
“At least it’s something,” John smiled for the first time of his conversation with Nichelle, who returned with a smile of her own.

“Could I get you gentlemen anything to drink?”
“Coffee is good,” Sam, the elder detective finally spoke after a long while.
“Just water,” John answered.

It took a few moments for Nichelle to prepare the drink. After she’s done, she set it down on the table, in front of the two men. She took a seat across from the two, her arms folded in front of her, in a relaxed posture.

“So after the rebellion…”

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