The second Per saw her, he knew she was upset. It wasn’t anything that she actually said, for she remained as reticent as ever. No, he knew by watching her hands. Sam had beautiful hands. Long, tapered fingers meant to play a musical instrument skillfully. Tonight, those hands could not seem to hold still. Per tore his focus from her hands and paid attention to what she was saying.
"Do you ever watch the news casts on TV?"
"Of course," replied Per.
"I can’t believe everything that is happening right now." Sighed Sam.
"The total global situation seems to be getting worse each day."
"What makes you say things are getting worse?" asked Per.
Sam was surprised at that question. "How can you ask that? God, just turn on the TV or pick up a paper! Wars, genocide, so-called ethnic cleansings seem to be happening everywhere. These days, it seems that if people aren’t literally killing each other off they are, at the very least, chronically lying to each other. From the heads of nations on down. When the hell did having morals become a liability?"
Per sat quietly for a moment before replying. "Perhaps, everything is the same it has always been since the very beginning of mankind. The simple difference between 1998 BC and 1998 AD may only be the advent of media coverage."
"What do you mean?"
"I am saying that it is only within the last fifty years or so that the masses have no longer been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world around them.
Television, newspapers, radios, computers ........ people now have instant, multi-media global access. Through you evening TV newscasts, you are now able to get a steady daily diet of war, famine, disease and disasters ..... all streaming into your home by way of a little, square box plugged into the wall.
It makes it impossible to stay uninformed."
"Are you saying that people have always been this wretched?" asked Sam.
"I think, Samantha, that kindness has possibly never been an innate trait of this civilization. After all, it wasn’t until 1945 that the notion of Crimes Against Humanity was even conceived."
"What an odd way of putting things you have, Per." Once again, Sam realized how little she knew about him. She tried to recall what knowledge she had of Scandinavians and quickly realized it was extremely limited. Despite the passion and caring she had found in him, there seemed to be an esoteric edge to Per.
Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, yet the feeling nagged at her.
"Enough of this distressing talk of war and corruption. Come have another glass of wine with me and then I must leave. It is getting late."
Sam accepted the glass Per held out to her. By tacit agreement they spoke of other things for a time. Far more pleasant topics. It became quite late and Sam, to her abashment, could no longer suppress her frequent yawns.
"I will go now and let you get some much required sleep." Per grinned, as he started to rise from the couch. But Sam stopped him with a light hand on his arm.
"Stay tonight."
"Are you sure?" questioned Per.
"I’m sure," Sam replied firmly. "Besides, you must admit, it would certainly be convenient. You’d already be at work in the morning."
Much later, after Sam had fallen into a deep sleep, Per softly left the house and rapidly walked out to Hockamock Head. As he silently made his way, he surveyed Happy Joyce’s property. All appeared tranquil. Both Happy and Spike were apparently slumbering soundly. Per walked to the very edge of the cliff overlooking the water and patiently waited. He knew they were coming. He had been receiving internal signals all day. It was just a matter of time now.