“Yaron, do you think we will ever be able to get through to our relative Vlad in the States?”
“I don’t know, we have tried so many times and everything is useless, it looks like he was blocked from our calls, as well as Adam and Ariel. and there is simply no answer from Vlad.”
“Yaron, look, he has two more new accounts appeared at once. Look what is written on them. This is unusual, but in principle fair. Both of them, read:
“New Facebook account.
You are not Facebook friends.
Has nothing to do with your Facebook friend Vlad …”
“Yaron, Yaron, watch the call from his new account, see what happens, the cover photo of the account is changing all the time, then he’s on a book, then on a bank building, then on a New Year card.
I’ll try to pick up the phone.
Yaron, of course there is no answer.”
“Yaron, look and Avner has a new account. It also says:
“New Facebook account
Not related to your Facebook friend Avner.”
This is probably so that it would not be a secret for us that we were talking with a fake. True, we still corresponded with him by e-mail, where there was a photo of him, but in general it is clear that we corresponded with ourselves.”
“Yaron, our apartment lease is coming to an end, do you think it is worth extending it? Everything seems to be not bad here, have met good people here, but I’m somehow tired of Bulgaria. Maybe we can continue our journey, or rather … return to Turkey?”
“I think so too. The memories of Turkey and the people there seem to me now pleasant and even somewhat nostalgic.”
“Can we call Khalil (the owner of the apartment we lived in Istanbul) to reserve an apartment for ourselves?”
“Come on, I’ll be glad to hear him.”
“Hi Brother, what date would you like to book a number for, the one on the first floor?”
“Yes, of course. On February 11. How are you, what news do you have, Khalil?” ― asked the son.
“Everything is fine with me, only recently guests from Switzerland came and lived in the same apartment as you, but then they suddenly disappeared somewhere, but their things remained.
And the other day I go into the store, the same one, you know, where that seven-foot guard is … and a butcher, such a musclehead with a big knife … So there is meat on the bone there on sale. And what do I see? That the bone is very similar to the Swiss one. Then I guessed where my guests had disappeared. Here’s a sad story.”
“Oh, Yaron! Oh, I just can’t, I already have a stomach ache with laughter! The bone looks like a Swiss one. He had to come up with something like that! Of course, it’s not Khalil!”
“But how subtly we were ridiculed!”
“Yes, we were clearly shown what fools fear made of us.”
“Okay, I’ll try to call Khalil’s housekeeper Zuleikha.”
“I am very glad that you will come, Jan! We are waiting for you” ― she said.
“Yaron, do you think this is the real Zuleikha?”
“I think yes.”
“Then let’s go for tickets to Istanbul. One thing is unpleasant that we have to take coronavirus tests again. Do you remember what happened when we passed them in Istanbul?” (See “Paranormal Everyday Life. Season 2. Episode 3.”)
“It’s impossible to forget.”
“Yaron, let’s go to Lina Clinic, they have the best prices for PCR tests.”
“Any place fits me, if only it was quieter than last time.”
“Well, Yaron, the test seems to have gone well, but the results should be received tomorrow.”
“Yaron, well, here it is again! A letter on the e-mail from Lina Clinic in Varna, according to a bad tradition already established. Listen to what is written here “Stay at home. There was a man with coronavirus in the clinic.
We will send you some photographs, perhaps you will recognize him.” What do you think, Yaron?”
“I think the nonsense is starting again …”
“I’m already tired of all this, let’s better get to the clinic now. We passed the tests yesterday at around 1:00 pm, almost a day has passed, maybe the results are already ready?”
“Good. And let’s take a walk at the same time, otherwise it’s already uncomfortable at home.”
“Good afternoon! Can you please tell me if the results of our tests are ready?” — we asked.
“Not ready. Come at 5 o’clock” ― snapped a clinic worker.
“Yaron, the time is 4:30 pm, let’s go, this is already becoming unbearable. A dozen letters have already come from the clinic and their text is becoming more and more aggressive.
The latter already says that if we leave the house, then we will face deportation, a large fine or prison …”
“This all of course cannot be true, but it is very nerve-racking.”
“Good evening, it is already 5 pm, we would like to receive the results of our PCR tests.”
“Not ready. Come in half an hour at 5.30.”
Yaron, this is already becoming strange, for sure the tests are already ready for a long time, much more than a day has passed, and the clinic will close in an hour. “
“Yes, I agree. Unpleasant situation! We have to be prepared for various scenarios.”
“Well, here is 5.30, Yaron! Let’s go!” ― I said and we entered the clinic with the most resolute air … and we were given the test results with some strange dissatisfaction.
“Huh! What a relief!”
But the next day, the closer to the time of departure, the more the situation began to escalate and just delusional events took place.
A note came from the clinic again that the test results were wrong and a policeman will visit us now.
And then we really heard a knock on the door. The phone was simply torn apart by fake calls and in the end was blocked by itself and I could not use it.
The phone demanded to enter a code, which I did not know, and I was afraid that we would not be able to unlock it at all. In general, the situation in the apartment became so tense that we hurried to run out into the street as soon as possible, even though there was still a lot of time before the bus to Istanbul …
To be continued…