Whoever find this…
You shall not repeat this information to anyone.
I will not tell you my name. You can call me number nine
I will tell you a little bit about myself.
I was born orphan in Germany.
Since I had no parents, the government took me in.
I studied in a special academy in a small town in Germany so that I could be useful for the country until I was 20. And then the government assigned me various jobs in various locations in Europe. In 1942, the Nazi government sent me to this small town, Multnomah, in Portland Oregon to set up a station to contact the Japanese agents in North America. The war ended approximately 3 years after.
I was asked to stay in this town until I receive further orders from my country.
That was 30 years ago.
The first few years here were hard, but peaceful, I didn’t have anyone, but I’ve always lived like that. I knew I was forgotten, and I thought I could take what I’ve known with me to the grave.
But one day I got a contact from my old division, only that it wasn’t the government contacting me anymore. There were refugee agents scattered around this country that were forgotten by my own country.
I decided to take them in.
Many things happened after that, my little place in this mundane town becomes a shelter for people like me.
Until recently, we remained unnoticed and lead a normal quiet life, but now is time to run again.
I don’t know if I can come back here ever again, there is no one to leave my secrets to. So I’m leaving this with you, stranger. You probably found this by following the address I kept in my boots; I kept some writings in my cigarette box so that no one will find it. I kept different portions of recordings in different places, but I don’t think they will all be discovered.
I know I’m taking a risk, but I had to tell someone how I lived the past three decades.
I’m sorry if this brings you any trouble.
Fat City Café
This café is my time machine.
It stayed the way it was since it first opened in this neighborhood.
I guess if you stayed in time machine long enough
Your personal time stopped as well
That’s what happens to the people here
I don’t really have a past to go back
So I meet people from the past here
I meet up with other agents in this café
Sometimes talk business, sometimes just talk
But like this café and this town,
At times I feel like I can’t seem to out-live these past
This is where I first met Daisy too
She was confident, distanced, but professional
It took us a while to find trust with each other
She will later on become my only friend
You know it’s hard to find a friend among people like us
The bridge is right next to the main street
But the most dangerous place is always the safest place
Although I try to have a normal life
There are times I need a quiet place to negotiate with those people who disturb that normal life
This is where I go
The location itself scares them, so I never had to take care of anyone here
That’s good because I didn’t want to anyway
This place my temple of peace
If I come here at the right time, there will be children everywhere
They reminded me when things are simple
People walking in front of the setting sun
They reminded me when things are beautiful
For a few hours I spend here
I could take me out of myself
And live for a while
We used to hide people here in the basement
People are less suspicious if it’s underneath a church
After Daisy came, she helped me to filled the basement up with concrete
So some of our secrets will always be buried
Sometimes I go upstairs as well
Because I don’t always feel good about what I did
One of these houses will be my home
I’m just your good quiet neighbor who occasionally has guests
You can call this the headquarters
But really, this is just a place for people to start anew
At least that was what I thought this place would be in the beginning
The day they tracked Daisy down was the day I knew I was being too naïve
I left the house the very next day
There used to be massages on the tree trunks
We discard them once it’s read
That was the first thing we learned in the academy
Pay attention to details
I never knew her name
She told me to call her Daisy
She was usually more careful than me, smarter
We never talked about what we did or what we know
That was the rule
But I know if I wanted to know, I could find out everything about her
I just didn’t
She was probably 37 when she died
The police said a truck hit her on the street
But I knew better
There is no funeral for people like us; we remain unnoticed even after we are gone
But I pay my respect anyway
Since Daisy didn’t technically have a identity
She didn’t have a family to claim her body
Therefore there was not going to be a grave for her either
I set up a tombstone where she died
It was small, almost unnoticeable, but I know it could leave tracks if there are people wanting to find me
So I had to leave
I don’t know when or how these recordings of incidents will be revealed
It’s all up to you, whoever you are.
Now I am running again, with this age, God only knows how long I will last
I don’t really care anymore.
I just want someone to know that I existed; I played a part in this world.