ManHimself in the High Tatras IV – Spyros’s wedding
manhimself |
18-02-2006 |
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“Had they ever really considered the idea that the guy might just be trying to turn over a new leaf, that he might be going at it a bit strangely just because he had never tried to do such a thing before?”
It was a mile and a half to the Slovnaft station, and by the time he got there it was quarter past three in the morning. The man had been wearing some sort of uniform. Above, stars shone hard and bright, sparks struck off the dark skin of the universe.
The tarp which covered the Opel had been pegged tautly to the ground, and the wind made the canvas flap.
The Opel stood whole in an automobile mortuary of dismembered parts, Easter Islands monoliths in the windy silence. An engine block.
He thought best in scenes like these.
He walked past the Opel and ran his hand across the dented hood of what might once have been a Škoda. “No matter where you run your mile, to be right in that photograph, Andy where’s my fifteen minutes…? he sang softly. Snapped his finger at them. They were gone. Where was he to go?
Spyros walked toward him over the heaped remains of Mladá Boleslav rolling iron. Spyros’s navel was a black eye.
The dark man snapped his fingers and Spyros was gone.
He grinned and walked back to the Opel. Laid his forehead against the slope of roof on the passenger’s side. At some length he straightened, still grinning. He knew.
He slipped behind the wheel of the Opel, and pumped the gas a couple of times to prime up the carburetor. He pulled out and drove around the side of the gas station, his headlight beams for a moment catching another pair of emeralds, cat’s eyes glistening warily from the tall grass by the Slovnaft station’s ladies’ room door. In the cat’s mouth was the small limp body of a mouse. At the sight of his grinning, moonlike face peering down at it from the driver’s side window, the cat dropped its morsel and ran. Where the Slovnaft’s tarmac became highway, he turned right and began to run south.
“Shit, yeah,? Marcel Lacko said, with 2nd witness Ľubka. This mass exodus – that’s all I know to call it – has done most of our work for us; Veľká Lomnica church.
He was with people that accepted and wanted him. Dušan Korytko, Sr. grinned so much ManHimself thought his face would crack; Koliba u Zbojníka, Veľká Lomnica.
He leaped to his feet and held his arms out like a miniature Bela Lugosi, his fingers hooked into claws. Marcel woke up just as twilight was falling, with Spyros and Rosťa; Starý Smokovec.
“I can give you Marcel Lacko’s address, if you want it, and directions.? Ľubka had had the good grace to flush at that; she had even offered a little apology; Veľká Lomnica church.
Spyros crossed behind the slot car track to beneath the window where ManHimself had entered. “Good dog,? he said when that was done; playing Vinci in Veľká Lomnica.
ManHimself, Secretary. Spyros told him about his day and he responded with right questions, nodding in places; Veľká Lomnica.
“Shhh, he’s fine,? Marcel Lacko had said, but Yf?a had seen a more truthful answer in ManHimself’s eyes. He handed the guitar to the girl neck first; Stará Lesná.
A halter that didn’t quite covered the areola of his nipples. Maybe now he could be just Marcel Lacko again instead of ManHimself, the way Spyros was now just Dušan Korytko here in town; Veľká Lomnica church.
“Cheap mouthy bastards,? Mrs. Korytková with the runny nose muttered, and then sneezed. Struggling, falling, eating snow, ManHimself got to the place and felt around; Poprad.
He didn’t add that he still had enough faith in the dark man to believe that ManHimself and the others would end up riding crosstrees, more likely than not. And Ďu?o II will stamp you out like a disease; Veľká Lomnica.
“Dušan, have you gone nuts?? ManHimself. These were not the small conductors the size of a knuckle that passed along a weak stay-away charge; these were the giant ones, the size of a closed fist, Veľká Lomnica.
It was a Rostin that even that long-ago oral hygienist might have liked. ManHimself might have held it, if he’d been on a paved surface, but the rear wheel skidded out from under him in the loose gravel and he fell with a thump, biting his lip bloody and cutting his cheek; Felicia cottage, Stará Lesná.
ManHimself sang all his favorite hymns, his high and quivering voice drifting into the still air. For some reason Dušan Korytko, Sr. looked over his shoulder at the horse-faced Dušan; Veľká Lomnica church.
“People around here seem to think it was a nuclear blast.? ManHimself stopped singing, continued to twiddle absently on the strings as he cocked his head and listened, playing Carcassonne with Dušan Korytko, Ľubka and Yf?a‘s sister; Veľká Lomnica.
There would be shrieks, and ManHimself cared very little for shrieks, there would be rape and subjugation, things about which he cared even less, there would be murder, which was immaterial – and there would be a Great Burning. “Marcel Lacko,? the Lady says to me, “there’s work for you far ahead.?; Marmota, Stará Lesná.
This meeting was held at the apartment of ManHimself and Egon. Egon was stuck on him, that was obvious, but Marcel Lacko didn’t want to have much to do with him outside of each day’s routine; Veľká Lomnica.
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