7 HMV: Seeking El Dorado
"Sammen kan vi klare alt"
Translation: "Together we can do everything" –Stina Talling, song "BlimE (Mer Enn God Nok)"
10 am Week 3, Auditorium, University of Oslo Faculty of Medicine, Klaus Torgårds vei 3, 0372 Oslo, Norway
Her hands trembled as she held her notes and walked slowly to the podium, having heard her name called. "I present to you, Dr. Macy Valensi, eminent American researcher, here to discuss her medical anthropological research on Hypnos!" Dr. Jakob Henrik had eagerly announced to the crowd of medical students sitting in the auditorium.
"You'll do great!" Harry mouthed as he waited in the wings, much like he had back in 1941 when he was Jimmy Westwell to the ever-beguiling Darcy Valensi.
Macy sported a sky-blue sheath column V-neck knee-length dress with cascading ruffles. She had reviewed her outfits the night before, trying to figure out what would be considered work-appropriate in a different country, hoping to avert an accidental faux pas or international incident of a similar regard. She couldn't help but cringe remembering the time when Harry had brought home chrysanthemums to present to a French mutual friend, not knowing it symbolized funerals in their culture. Whoops.
As of late, Macy and Harry had settled into a sort of routine, cuddling together hours before the sun rose, then slowly waking up in a rather languorous, lascivious fashion, dressing, and proceeding downstairs into Restaurant Teatro, where breakfast was provided for free in an intimate, darkened navy/raspberry-blue interior with long, color-coordinating navy-hued scalloped velveteen booths. The adjoining walls were decorated with gold-framed art; one was of a rather somber man in a suit, tie, and bowler hat (the bottom-right painting); the top-right piece displayed a serene ocean (or lake) scene, with a piece of lush, mountainous land jutting out in the background.
The largest artwork of all was in the black circular center frame, depicting hybridized butter-yellow roses with streaks of pink in its interior folds, in a vase that sat upon a realistic-appearing silken blue tablecloth, which of course matched the hotel restaurant's walls and seating booth impeccably.
10:40 am, Auditorium, University of Oslo Faculty of Medicine, Klaus Torgårds vei 3, 0372 Oslo, Norway
Macy completed her lecture, and the students applauded. She looked around, somewhat dazed. She always had the odd ability to zone out when giving a presentation, especially since Hypnos was a topic she knew so intimately. The only thing she asked of Jakob and Sofie was that there be an online Reddit Ask Me Anything (AMA) session instead of a detailed half-hour-long Q&A session, due to her and Harry having a mild scheduling conflict (she didn't specifically mention searching for a century-old witch aloud, for fear people would point them in the general direction of the nearest mental asylum).
11 am, Outside University of Oslo Faculty of Medicine, Klaus Torgårds vei 3, 0372 Oslo, Norway
"Darling," Harry said, smoothing away stray strands of Macy's curls, and kissing her squarely on the lips, "you did an excellent job."
"Oh why thank you, Mr. Valensi," she all but purred, enjoying the feel of her husband's muscular arms embracing her for those precious, beautiful minutes before the search began once more. Harry made as though to remove his suit jacket, revealing his cropped shirt sleeves, and Macy gasped, pulling him aside and clutching his suit tightly toward him.
"Macy, what on earth are you doing?"
"Preventing you from making an ass of yourself—" Macy began, pointing to a large purpled spot on his bare porcelain-hued arm, an unmistakable hickey. A visible reminder of the past evening's passionate ardor.
"Oh dear Lord," Harry murmured, as his cheeks turned pink. "How most embarrassing…" he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.
"It's fine," said Macy, "we just need to get back to the hotel so you can change to a long-sleeved shirt, then we can get on our way."
Noon, Front of Hotel Christiania Teater, Stortingsgata 16, 0161 Oslo, Norway
Once Harry and Macy changed into less conspicuous clothing (slacks and a long-sleeved shirt for Harry, leggings and an olive-colored blouse for Macy), they reviewed their current list of bookshops. Tronsmo, followed by Eldorado bokhandel. Macy checked the map on her phone; Tronsmo was a five-minute walk away.
12:03 pm, Universitetsgata, Oslo, Norway
They turned left from the hotel, heading down Stortingsgata toward Roald Amundsens gate, where they turned right and continued down Universitetsgata, passing what appeared to be a large grassy field called "Studenterlunden Park," which was dotted with restaurants, open markets, and to their right further down, a Ferris wheel and what appeared to be a long rectangular ice-skating rink. An ice rink? Harry frowned and checked the weather using Macy's phone. Sixty-one degrees Fahrenheit. After a bit of internet sleuthing, he discovered that the ice rink was mainly used by local sports teams for training over the summer, or else closed off, and that the rink itself was free and open to the public from November to March every winter season. He made a mental note to research the place further, perhaps for a lovely winter date night should the appropriate situation arise.
12:08 pm, Tronsmo, Universitetsgata 12, 0164 Oslo, Norway
Macy and Harry entered the shop, which had white-painted walls and stacks upon stacks of neatly-curated books upon each side table and floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. The interior appeared more modern than the earlier bookshop they visited, both in terms of architecture and overall ambiance. According to an online website, this shop had been hailed by the American poet Allen Ginsberg as "the best bookstore in the world," due to its coverage of social issues including globalization, plus its prolific sales of comic books. Most notably, around half of the books were in English, which would hopefully save themselves some time.
Harry turned a corner, startled to find six or so artfully crafted black silhouette cutouts of various key literary figures (none of whom he recognized, he was ashamed to admit). He followed Macy to the back corner of the shop, where he spotted two moving turnstiles of postcards and various eclectic greeting cards. To the left of those was what appeared to be a neon yellow mouse (or bear?) with its right paw turned upward. Over the doorframe a foot to the right, there was an enormous grinning cartoon-esque red elephant-shaped bas-relief artwork of some sort, positively littered with iridescent yellow polka-dots.
Nothing really stood out in particular—it seemed, in their eyes, a perfectly normal, run-of-the-mill bookshop. As they exited the corner room and stepped upwards toward a different set of bookshelves, they spotted modern art frames of historical contemporary prints, and what appeared to be a tiny banjo made of a refurbished red-and-white gasoline container.
1 pm, Outside of Eldorado bookshop, Torggata 9A, 0181 Oslo, Norway
As lovely as Tronsmo was, there was nothing that particularly screamed "Morgana." Macy hoped they'd have better luck retracing her steps as they headed into the third bookshop on their list. They had left Tronsmo, heading southwest on Universitetsgata toward Kristian Augusts gate, making a left then continuing onto Pilestredet, making a left onto Grensen, continuing onto Stortovet, and making a final left onto Torggata, where they found themselves facing the fancy red "El Dorado" overhead marquee signage that vaguely reminded them of vintage movie theaters of yore.
"I hope they have a café," remarked Macy, as her stomach suddenly growled.
"Me too," replied Harry, "I'm positively famished."
1:10 pm, Crêperie de Mari, Inside Eldorado bookshop, Torggata 9A, 0181, Oslo, Norway
They skimmed the menu together. Vegan and gluten-free options available, it read, much to Macy's delight. Her dairy allergy seemed to narrow her culinary options wherever they went, but it didn't seem to pose too much of a difficulty here, thankfully enough.
After being seated, Macy ordered a "Spinach Vegan," priced at 139 kronor (kr), consisting of spinach, cherry tomatoes, sun-dried tomatoes, black olives, garlic, and avocado, served with a side of fresh rocket salad (arugula, she knew), and balsamic vinaigrette. Harry went with a "Crêpe Monsieur," priced at 149kr, which had crispy bacon, egg, snøfrisk, spinach, tomatoes, listed as the main ingredients. He had no idea what snøfrisk was, but decided it was part and parcel of their "Nordic adventure." Their dishes arrived several minutes later (Harry discovered that the snøfrisk was a type of tangy, spreadable goat's cheese), and they ate with gusto. They had worked together, slept together, borne three children together, and understood well throughout it all, that being hangry was a distinct recipe for trouble.
2 pm, Eldorado bookshop, Torggata 9A, 0181 Oslo, Norway
Macy checked her notes; Eldorado bookshop was known as the largest independent bookstore in Oslo. Was this really a place Morgana would choose to hide? To her, Morgana seemed a whip-smart, hold-no-prisoners sort, the "tell-it-as-it-is" type. Where would such a feisty person head to, given her strong personality? They should have run into her by now if she were indeed around, whether in a thirty-year-old or fifty-year-old appearance.
She and Harry gazed in awe at the white marbled interior with a stories-high dome, from which origami butterflies dangled on barely-visible string. The airy modern appearance of the curved and angular bookshelves reminded Macy of fancy department store makeup counters and store display cases, merged with the upkeep style of her local Seattle library.
Turning a corner, they noticed pale slate-colored chairs with upper eaves, the sort one found in British manors, except these particular ones were rather modern in appearance. The lower walls were a ribbed alabaster hue, and six feet upward, turned into a sharply-contrasting black, covered in gold-framed ethereal, vaguely Impressionist oil paintings.
And suddenly it hit her.
Perhaps they were looking in all the wrong places. Morgana's strident leanings would probably have had an internet trail of some sort. As for her love of gardens and hygge, she and Harry would have to continue on their list until they stumbled upon the most "hygge" of them all, the very embodiment of coziness itself.
"Harry," whispered Macy, tugging on her husband's sleeve. "We need to leave for the hotel now. I think I know how to reach Morgana."
"But love, must we? They've just started a book talk up above and they're serving delicious free coffee in metal-drawn thermoses—" Macy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, fine," he groused, as he followed his wife through the airy hallways and down the marble steps to the bookshop's exit.
4 pm, Hotel Room, Hotel Christiania Teater, Stortingsgata 16, 0161 Oslo, Norway
Macy sat, her laptop perched on the desk in their dark turquoise hotel room. Here goes nothing, she thought, her fingers shaking slightly as she accessed the main Reddit website, logging into her account and accessing the r/science forum of 24.7 million members. "Science AMA Series: Dr. Macy Valensi" she typed in the subject line. "I have performed medical anthropological research and published findings on the Greek mythological Hypnos, shaping genetics-based sleep studies internationally. AMA!"
4:05 pm, Hotel Room, Hotel Christiania Teater, Stortingsgata 16, 0161 Oslo, Norway
She checked her laptop for notifications, and her phone's Reddit app too, just in case. Nothing. Then, a question popped up, then another, and a couple after that.
The first question: "How much did your research cost? And the mechanisms? My boyfriend used a ResMed AirMini™Ultimate Travel CPAP Package with F20 full mask." Macy sprang to action and began typing the answer almost immediately; truth be told, research costs and mechanisms varied so much due to countless factors, but she would answer this to the best of her ability.
The second question: "Do you think, in the future, robots can do sleep studies, small ones perhaps?" Macy decided to write a five-sentence response, that in a nutshell could easily be summed up as saying "never say never."
The third question: "Nyx was the father of Hypnos, who then became the father of Morpheus. Would you consider expanding your research to encompass the entire family? Why or why not? Please PM." Macy paused upon reading the private messaging request, and thought about the familial reference, not to mention "Morpheus," which sounded a lot like…
"Morgana," muttered Harry, peering over his wife's shoulder. She nodded.
"I think it's her," she whispered. She hovered and clicked on the third question asker's linked account, which she thought would have been a throwaway account, but was pleasantly surprised to spot an electronic communications trail, leading to various mythological subthreads, plus a handful of OB-GYN comments reaming out a novice obstetrician for trying to mansplain to her a rudimentary concept in the field, dated to the day before. Macy bit back a smile. "Oh, that's her, alright."
4:35 pm, Hotel Room, Hotel Christiania Teater, Stortingsgata 16, 0161 Oslo, Norway
After reviewing the myriad subthread messages and comments, Macy went back to her AMA, which was woefully sparse. No matter, she thought to herself. They'd accomplished what they'd set out to do. There was just one last thing to take care of.
5 pm, Hotel Room, Hotel Christiania Teater, Stortingsgata 16, 0161 Oslo, Norway
Harry and Macy discussed at length about how to best reach out to Morgana, if it was her, which they were fairly sure it was. It was likely she was younger and wished to enjoy her freedom yet seemed unable to resist the urge to dole out obstetric advice.
Macy carefully crafted the following coded message through private message:
Mellow Oranges Ripening Growing Around Near Apples?
"Yes," the recipient of the message replied almost immediately. Macy uttered a shrill squeak as her fingers paused over the keyboard. What next?
"Ask her if she wants to come home," Harry suggested, peering over Macy's shoulder.
Cozy Owls Meet Ever Hearkening Over Morning Elevations?
Please, Macy silently pleaded, sending the "come home" question Morgana's way.
"I can't," the reply came.
Wise Herds Yell?
"I'll age." And with that, Morgana signed out.
5:15 pm, Hotel Room, Hotel Christiania Teater, Stortingsgata 16, 0161 Oslo, Norway
"Dammit," Macy cursed aloud. "What do we do now?"
"It seems," remarked Harry, "that Morgana is in a bit of a conundrum."
"Yeah, no shit," muttered Macy. "Sorry Harry—I'm just frustrated," as he moved to massage her shoulders. "If she goes home, the succubus bite wears off and she'll be old again, grey hair, wrinkles, the works. If she stays in the country the bite originated—Norway in this case—she'll stay forever young, dewy skin and all."
"Seems like quite a dilemma," mused Harry.
"How so?" Macy frowned. "I'd choose family over anything."
"Would you, love? Even if it meant having limbs that ached painfully, a clientele that was unrelenting, zero free time as the island's only obstetrician and nanny and foster carer, and family that almost never reaches out?"
"We reach out!" Macy shot back hotly.
"When was the last time?" replied Harry reasonably. "I for one can't remember when, to my regret. Perhaps she feels exhausted, in need of a break. Maybe she believes now everyone's grown up, since nobody calls her, she feels we don't need her anymore."
"That's not true!" exclaimed Macy, putting her head in her arms. "Morgana's the best thing that ever happened to us!"
"Does she know that?" asked Harry, softer this time. "Have we once given her the same consideration she showed us? Checked up on her at least once a week?"
"N-no, not exactly, I've—we've—been very busy—" stammered Macy, as she powered off her laptop.
"Exactly," Harry said.
"So, what do we do now?" Macy asked, now standing. "We need her—she's the lifeblood of our family, and if it weren't for her, who knows if I'd be alive now with three healthy grown-up children."
"I suggest," said Harry pulling her into a long hug, "that we visit the next remaining bookshops on our list and continue monitoring the Reddit forums for any additional snarky obstetrical commentary."
"Do you think she'll come home?" Macy murmured in his ear.
"I think it might take awhile for her to decide, but love—yes. Yes, I do believe in my heart that she'll come home of her own volition," as he smoothed her curls, tucking them behind her ear as he kissed the stray tear that trickled onto her cheek. "After all, love, this is Morgana we're talking about."