Marek: A fractured restrospective – Free version

Originally published on July 26, 2008

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Flashback: “Why you angry me?” I asked him in Tarzan English on the first night he was back.

I was in my chair at the desk. He was sitting on the bed, legs spread and hands folded, propping up his chin. He wasn’t looking at me. He still had his coat and cap on, as if he wasn’t sure he was staying, or that I’d let him.

I did let him think about his answer. I wanted to know why he’d stolen that 500 Kč, other than the obvious reason that he wanted to get high. He didn’t answer quickly, instead rubbing his chin with pinched fingers, and I just sat there looking at him.

“Because Kuba,” he finally said. “I think you have new boyale no problem for me. You, Kuba kissing, sleeping. Ale no problem for me.”

“Okay, ty jarly,” I said. You were jealous.

He shrugged and said, “‘No,” meaning yes in Czech. “Small.”

“I am stupid boy,” he added.

No argument with that.

He had his own question: “Proč you give me keys?” Meaning, why had I let him in when he came to the window five minutes before asking if he could take a shower?

“You know why,” I answered, sick of saying the same thing over and over to him.

“Ah hah!” he said, unfolding his hands. “Bee-causs love.”

Then he thought a few seconds. “I no love man. Nikdy. [Never.] I like you. No love.”

Then he took that shower.

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