Read The Old Stories Page 2


  ***

  Half an hour later, they were climbing up the stairs towards the railway crossing.

  A young man with sunglasses was casually sitting on the railing and talking on his cell phone.

  "Hey, look at that guy!" exclaimed Sunday.

  "He thinks he’s so cool sitting on that railing and talking on his cell! I can’t believe all the jerks in this world!" commented Gorki. Sunday was holding in her tsunami of laughter.

  As they climbed the stairs, they got closer and closer to the guy, but he didn’t seem to notice them. They could hear fragments of his conversation. It wasn’t until they got super close to him that they noticed a long white walking stick between his legs.

  "Don’t worry, darling. It’ll all be okay…" he was saying into the phone. "It’ll all be okay."

  ____________________________________________

  1. Gorki (Cro.) = bitter. Back.

  2. A local radio station from Rijeka. Back.

  The Cell Phone

  "If men is five

  And the Devil is six

  Then God is seven."

  Pixies "Monkey gone to heaven"

  Ana sat on the metal bench at the bus stop. She noticed a middle-aged man coming towards her. He was talking on his cell phone.

  "Yes, mom. Of course, mom. We’ll be there this weekend as planned. We’ll definitely bring the kids with us," he was saying as he reached the bus stop, looked at Ana and smiled.

  She remained indifferent to his kindness and thought to herself, Oh God, how I hate it when people show off on their cell phones! I’m never getting a cell phone! Never!

  She was special.

  "No, I’m not at work. I got off earlier because it’s Klara’s and my wedding anniversary. I’m taking her out for a fabulous dinner tonight!" he said as he paced back and forth in front of the other people who were waiting for the bus. "Don’t worry, mom, we have a babysitter. I have another call now. Yes, of course I will pass your regards to Klara. See you soon… Okay… Bye, kiss."

  What kind of man has a wife and kids and sends kisses to his mom? she wondered with disgust.

  "Hey, love!" He sounded like he was truly happy to hear from her. "Guess what your tiger did at work today…"

  Tiger? Ana almost let out a giggle. Buddy, you’re no tiger! You’re a lame yuppie.

  "Yes, yes, YES! That’s going to be a huge bonus at the end of the year."

  It seemed to Ana that the man briefly glanced at the reactions of the people at the bus stop. She felt sick to her stomach and thought: He’s so awful! All he thinks about is money!

  "I got off work early, my love. And you know why," he stressed. "You know I wouldn’t forget, darling."

  Oh my God, he’s so sleazy!

  "I’ve arranged everything. Rahaela is coming at seven. Ha, ha, ha," he laughed loudly and turned towards Ana. "Of course I kept that in mind," he said as he winked at her with a wide grin.

  Ana rolled her eyes thinking, He’d probably fuck anything that moves. She hated him with her entire being.

  A new bus pulled up to the bus stop.

  "My bus is here! I have to go. I’ll see you at home!" he said cheerfully, placing his cell phone in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

  The phone slid through the silk lining, skimmed his pant leg and fell onto the sidewalk. The case flew to one side while the phone slid all the way to Ana’s Converse shoes. It was an old cell phone model, the screen was scratched, and there was no battery.

  The man quickly stepped forward to pick up the phone. Ana noticed his bitten nails, his worn-out shirtsleeve, and his shabby suit.

  Their eyes met.

  His eyes were big, his face completely flat and white. His self-confidence had vanished and all that remained was a bare human soul. Ana’s heart melted and sunk to her stomach. The eyes with which she looked at him were filled with pity to the point of tears.

  The man took a step back towards the road and much like a high jumper jumped in front of the moving bus.

  The murmurs on the bus fell silent and the laughter disappeared. The elderly on the bus flew forward while the stronger passengers grabbed onto the handlebars. Tendons stretched, muscles cramped, but nonetheless all of the seated heads moved forward. In a moment of complete and utter silence all that could be heard was the screeching of the enormous tires on the pavement. The blunt sound of the impact was louder than the groans of the bus right before some of the passengers fell over, while the heads of those who were seated moved back to their original positions.

  Ana ran towards the yuppie who lay motionless a few meters in front of the bus. His neatly cut slicked back hair was soaked in thick blood. His face was smashed up.

  Ana yelled, "Cell phone! Does anyone have a goddamn cell phone?"

  A Three-Hundred-Tone Rehearsal for EKV

  "Our hands aren’t tied,

  Our hands aren’t lecherous.

  Let’s go!"

  Ekatarina Velika (EKV) "Let's go!"

  "What’s up, Mali? I didn’t see you at the protest."

  "Umm… Nothing…" He pursed his lips. "I was having brunch and I had to go to the washroom…"

  Meho watched him.

  "You had to go?"

  Mali felt a tension in his stomach that he hadn’t felt since primary school. For a moment, Meho reminded him of his father.

  "I’m gonna get you when these scumbags throw you out on the street and you won’t have a single penny! You’ll see how you’ll have to go when you’re hungry! Just you hide in washrooms!"

  As Meho got more and more wound up, Mali’s stomach churned more and more.

  "You goddamn traitors!" Meho spat at the ground. "We’re all gonna go to hell because of people like you! It’s no wonder that they do with us as they please! It’s shameful! You oughta be ashamed of yourself! You and all those who hide in washrooms when it’s time to fight!"

  Mali stood there staring at Meho’s raging blue eyes. In the midst of long-gone emotions, he was surprised to find that eyes can be beautiful regardless of their mood. His tension looked for a way out through his mouth and fists, but he remained paralyzed. He felt an intense beating in his chest as if his heart was going to explode.

  Meho waved his arm in disappointment, turned around and headed back to his department. With each step that he took, the tension diminished.

  "Don’t worry about him, Mali," said a voice from the side when Meho was far away enough not to hear. "He just likes to bark. But where was he when we fought for our country? He was working or on sick leave or something like that. All those Muslims are like that. Now they pretend to be smart and want to start a revolution, but where were they in 1991 when the war started? Goddamn Muslims! They don’t like it in our country. They’d probably prefer some form of socialism or what have you. They’re all Yugo-nostalgic scum…"

  Mali stopped staring at the faded shipyard logo on Meho’s back and looked at Ivo. His nose was covered in capillaries and his cheeks were chubby like that of a piglet.

  "Don’t you worry, Shorty! You’re one of us!"

  "One of us?"

  "Yea, one of us! A real Croat! From the beginning of time! I knew your father. He was a hell of a man! A real man!"

  He remembered the fears from his childhood prayers that he repeated like a mantra as he walked home from school, his eyes searching for his father’s car parked outside the building. Ivo’s eyes weren’t as clear as Meho’s.

  "What’s up, Ivo?" asked someone from the side. "You bothering Mali again? Muslims, Serbs, partisans? Whose fault is it now that we’re being shut down?"

  Ivo flinched and said, "The European Union’s! That’s whose! They don’t want us Croats to build ships anymore because we’re better at it than they are!"

  "And tell me, is it the European Union’s fault that you sleep during most of your workday and then work overtime to make up for the hours? Do you know, Ivo, how much an hour of your work costs this company?"

  Ivo blinked.

  "You
don’t know, do you? Well, Ivo, all those overtime hours that you put in, that’s the main issue. All those paints that you smuggle out and sell illegally, that’s what’s ruining us. Not Europe."

  "You know what, Robi…"

  "I know, Ivo, I know. We know each other well."

  Ivo stood there a moment, then turned around and walked away mumbling. Robi and Mali headed towards the gate.

  "So, how was the protest?"

  "It was a shit show. Probably better that you didn’t come. Not even a third of us showed up. Everyone was giggling and hiding behind their hats in front of the cameras. Children. And what can you expect from children? That they piss in the sink when no one’s looking. It’s all over. We’ve already been sold."

  Mali felt a breeze of fear through his body. He suddenly felt sadness as well. He looked up at the almost completed ship and thought, "How can something so large just disappear?"

  "There’s a documentary on EKV at the Art Cinema today. You wanna come?"

  "I don’t know… I never really listened to their music…"

  "Come on! Don’t give me that! EKV is the best band of the former Yugoslavia! You have to broaden your horizons!"

  "I don’t know…I have to see with Lili…"

  Robi smiled. "6:45 in front of the theater. Don’t be late!" He threatened him with his finger and his eyebrows.