Chapter One

David was an artist. He was unlike his father in that, and also in that he was a ladies' man. His dad was not able to communicate with women, at least not easily enough for them to be eager to be close to him. In fact, he suspected that this fairly status-less bank employee that was his official father, wasn't that in reality. But his father was after all a father in the sense that he could be of help now and then, he thought.

David was twenty-two and had managed to start his own business, using a loan from the bank were his father worked. With it, he had bought an small decaying building, which he fairly easily had been able to renovate well enough for it to be used as a workshop and an artist lounge with a gallery and boutique in them, and sort of almost an office, even. It could to some extent also be used to sleep in, but only if the outdoor temperature wasn't very low.

His parents' apartment was fairly large. There he lived, together with them and his five years younger sister. At this night's dinner table, he was telling for his father about some potentially extremely precarious, but rich, probable costumers.

ـِـ So,dad, he asked, what do you think? How am I supposed to handle them?

ـِـ It's all about strategy, his father answered. As soon as you feel ready for it, he continued, you should start trying to find out what they're about!

ـِـ Dad, I already know what they're into. I mean their business seems to be about hide and seek in the first place, and I know a whole lot about their strategies for it!

ـِـ Then why in the world are you trying to avoid getting into business with them?!

ـِـ I'm not quite trying to avoid that! It's just that I have to be careful to take care of the other costumers I'll be dealing with, since their sly and potentially dangerous tactics might, perhaps at least, frighten them. If the word gets around that I'm dealing with them, possibly even all of the others will be having second thoughts about me and my gallery.

David's young sister Deborah smiled scornfully about that David had not gone to college, but tried a career as an artist instead.

ـِـ Why did you think you were such a role model in the first place?

David looked chocked.

ـِـ Deborah, I wasn't trying to be that! I was trying to be the fellow that should be into taking things the way they should be taken! It's only mom, and perhaps you dad, who told you ـِـ or didn't you,dad? Mom? ـِـ to view me as it!

His dad cleared his throat, but said nothing. His mother thought for a while before saying:

ـِـ I suppose there is not any reason to believe he's such a winner after all then, at least not so that we can be sure of it! ... But dear, don't pretend it's not about smartness that he even is getting started with business due to his art!

Deborah smiled smugly.

ـِـ It's not about art, she retorted. It's about the gangster friends he's been into! It's about that art business being a cover for their crimes! ... Oh, I can find him a role model alright! A role model for faking care for everybody, for being into covering up for the real bastards! But actually, that is what you keep on saying that I should always avoid being into!

David looked at his sister.

ـِـ Debbie, how about that you don't know how to handle them in the first place? I'm not asking to be your sole model, but heck you're staying on may tail about it still, occasionally.

She shuddered.

ـِـ In a sense there's not any way to avoid them. You're right about that!

Their mother looked at her and said in a serious tone of voice:

ـِـ No, and do you know what?! Not even the head teacher of you class is much else than a gangster! Or at least he's a wife beater and a guy who ...

She stopped her self and giggled.

ـِـ Who did what?
Deborah looked sternly at her when asking.

She hesitated before answering:

ـِـ I've been speaking to his wife, the head teachers wife. She has told me that he always refuses to put on any underwear when going to work. He has told her to say to herself that it's just the natural self of him that is under his pants, and that he's into the adventure of seeing himself as the presentable fellow he “really is,” she told me. ... Now, don't you tell anybody that I told you so, but that's what he is!