‘The infamous assassin cum art thief Hulohot was killed today in the city of Delft by officers of the European Law Enforcement Agency (ELEA). The ELEA had been tracking Hulohot for almost 3 months while he is said to have been in the Netherlands to steal the famous Castafoire emerald. A special squad of the ELEA tracked his location on Sunday evening to an old cottage in Delft. Officers soon stormed the building and a short exchange of firing ensued following which Hulohot was declared dead from a headshot. One ELEA officer was also killed in the crossfire, Lt. Rosa.’
This piece in the newspaper grabbed my attention almost immediately, as I read through it several times each time grasping different parts of the passage and putting together the whole. I had just woken up and my hypnogogic state made it all seem like a dream.
As I made myself coffee I thought about how this very well could have been a dream. I was indeed associated in my small way with these two people, more directly with Charize.
As a psychologist I Charize had been visiting me on and off for the past ten years. I have seen her grow through the ranks. Working for the ELEA I had seen bizarre stuff, but none as captivating as what Charize presented.
The first time she came to me was in 1990, I can remember that day very vividly, she was part of the operation that was trying to capture this man, I forget his name…..hmmm….yes it was Hulohot. She said that there was something that had drawn her to this case, something that she couldn’t explain and that all she could think about was finding this man. She even showed me a photograph of Hulohot. Initially I began thinking along the lines of Freud, but unfortunately modern psychology does not allow one to be that free with their thoughts and ideas.
The next time I saw her, was a year later, I vaguely remember that occasion because she started by saying that she thought she was going crazy, she told me that she hadn’t been with another man for the last year and that she didn’t know why but ever since she started chasing hulohot she just couldn’t be interested in other men, this was very bizarre because she seemed to have somehow tied her identity to the chase of this man, a chase that her hippocampus seemed to thoroughly enjoy. It was strange that she feel this way about a man that she had never met, but when I confronted her with this fact she said :
‘ Of course I’ve met him, I’ve even danced with him’
She had waltzed with him at a party being hosted by Gianlungi Bouton, the art connoisseur, but of course she hadn’t known that it was him then and her whole fascination with the man had begun after the party and after the world had finally seen its first photo of Hulohot.
Now I was sure that Charize was in some trouble of the cognitive kind, she had taken the carpet that was her identity that covered different kinds of terrain and had wrapped it around this single man.