One day I was walking past the ticket windows and some old nun gave me money, didn’t even have to babble much … not much. But it was enough for a botde. Next day the nun was back again. I rushed right over to her. Spilling out thanks like a waterfall. I liked her old face. That one knew! About many things, no doubt … I sensed I could tell her a lot. After a long spell, I got talking again. Gargantua. I murmured to her, jumping around and hissing my words. She didn’t say a thing. And as I walked away, she stood there, short, stooped, in one of the few uniforms that women can wear. Stood there, crowd pouring past her … it was unsettling: that look of hers. I clutched the cash in my fist.
Sometimes I managed to pour so much alcohol through my mouth into my head that the string would get inundated and couldn’t move. In my hangovers, though, it returned, like a pendulum. I guess the trick is to snap the string, I thought to myself.
I never forgot what I’d done with the knife. So I kept out of the way. You never know with bums. One minute some old ass-kisser is givin you a hug, the next he’s goin for your eyes. And I didn’t want to be part of it anymore. Their speech was skeletal, pared to the bone. But I didn’t like it … when my head was clear for a while, free of haze and pain, and their words would get in there: Unh. My old lady’s a cunt cause she’s a twat. Unh. Usually all they talked about was where they’d eaten what, who got tanked how, what they’d scrounged up where … totally the same as the people outside. Here it was just a little bit faster.
Around the end of the summer … I felt better. Plus I saw where in fact I was living. I picked my way through the hurrying people, going somewhere with suitcases, backpacks, heading somewhere in ties and skirts. I joined the procession, marching … with them. Down by the ticket windows, the crowd broke into clusters, making for the exits, I did too, occasionally someone would stop and buy a paper, smokes, something to eat … under the hall’s fluorescent lights, there were posters there to look at … and then they ran for the trams, surging out into the park, there were buses there, I noticed … on the other side they made for the cabs, leaving me alone by the exit. Pondering, or whatever. Then I went back to the platform and waited for the next train.
I sat by the ventilators, dozing, maybe my strength was coming back, my head didn’t hurt anymore, I stretched. It’s time to make a move, time to go … even the station people disappeared from time to time. To other stations. Some had a place to live but came here anyway. Here it always looked like there was something going on.
Ondra was there too, claimed he was sixteen, but he was a shrimp. Followed me around. Stole all sorts of reading material and then told me stories about it. Liked to hear himself. I guess so he could relive it. He’d walk up to me at the ventilators, sit down, and let loose. I didn’t listen … at first. But he really lived for those comic books. So then, get this, he tells me, King Krongold spurred his horse an went ridin off with his army a crusaders to the Holy Land, but how’d it turn out with Queen Eleanor? Will she be with King Krongold, or did that scumbag Merlin capture her? The next one doesn’t come out’ll next week … don’t worry, Ondra, they published all that stuff in the sixties … Queen Eleanor stays in the tower, Merlin’s cast a spell on her, an she gets these visions of things an places she’s seen with King Krongold, but it’s just a bunch a shit, lemme sleep. Wait, tell it … how does it go? Ondra was on the edge of his seat. Steal it next week, leeme alone. But what if it doesn’t come out, an plus they know me everywhere now, it’s not that easy anymore. Aright, I’ll tell you, but how about a bottle.
Ondra, you see, was a thief s treasure. All kindsa parasites tried to bamboozle him, all kindsa assholes tried to wrangle him onto their teams … especially Howdoyoudo Lolly, I steered clear of her after I found out about Drool … but Ondra didn’t give a damn … he’d spent all his life in institutions and knew his way around … stole, but just for himself. Just food, occasionally cash, so he could make a move somewhere, get outta town. And when he begged, people gave. Patted him on the head. I saw it. He was bent on going abroad. Got the idea from those comix of his, all those deserts and jungles. The Dead City of Macchu Picchu. The Holy Grail. The Monkey People. Lugged around a tattered atlas. His dream was to join the Foreign Legion. Dude, just wait’ll I’m strong! But don’t you hafta go to school? Aready been. I nodded, after all he knew how to read. I’ll tell you somethin, he said one day … by the ventilators … but you gotta promise not to tell anyone! Swear it! Yeah, yeah. No, dude, raise your hand an swear for real! I did. I’m not sixteen, dude, I’m thirteen. Yeah, so? If they find out, they’ll put me away. Uh-huh, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
He came right back with a bottle. Yanked the cork out with my teeth. So … Queen Eleanor dreamed of King Krongold, but she was far away and under a spell. And the king meanwhile … clashed with the Tatars, and it was a terrible battle, his horsemen fell under the infidels’ spears, but then the infantry penetrated their defense and raided their camp and engaged the enemy in man-to-man combat … this wine’s great, Riesling! where’d you get it? … What happens next, what about the Tatars, they had bows, right?! Yeah, and that was the thing, they pelted the King’s army with salvos of arrows, inflicting huge losses, but at close quarters the king’s knights were stronger, and had better armor … the battle raged for two days, and when it was over King Krongold had only a handful of loyal men left … hey Ondra, got any smokes? Thanks! So, they snuck into the galley and sailed into port and … damn, what next … oh yeah, disguised as merchants they went to the capital and sold silk and fruits and vegetables … that’s dumb, said Ondra angrily … just wait a sec … but the other merchants plotted against them, and one night, disguised in black masks, they attacked, King Krongold and his loyal men fled through the darkness … their horses’ hoofs clattered across the planks of the bridge, and the moon was veiled in mist, and they came to a plain afflicted by plague … and several of the king’s loyal men were struck down by the abominable disease … an what was Eleanor doin meantime, Ondra inquired … Merlin had her spellbound, she was forced to do his bidding, and he’d order her around, do this, do that, move it, Queen, heh heh, Merlin cackled … that fuckin scumbag, Ondra yelled, cheeks burning … but she was proud, and inside her was a smile for King Krongold, because she knew he was searching for her … and at night she would sit alone in her chamber … and get totally shitfaced, and in some parts of the tower were trap-doors, and the only thing that kept her from stepping on the wrong stone and plunging into the cellars full of gruesome spiders was her love for King Krongold, it held her up … did the cellars have rats an skeletons in em? Ondra wondered … course they did, don’t interrupt! … and King Krongold came to a jungle where he was attacked by wild men called the Utnapishtims … hee-hee, snickered Ondra … but with the help of his trusty laser he swung out on the creeper vines, but of all his loyal men now the only one left was Sir Dolphus, and their swords were all they had … to be continued. No fair! No fair … you got the wine! It’s all gone. C’mon, anyway I’m just talkin crap. No, that’s the way it was, said Ondra, wait here … the string was quiet and my head was totally clear, I had an urge to go and … maybe pick up some threads at some charity, mine stank like shit … hey, good boy, Ondra, Riesling again … that’ll pick me up … I got burgers too, paid for em an everything, try one. The first mouthful was awful, but after that it went all right. Okay, this is gonna be short now, though! You know what’s weird? Ondra said. When I hear it, it’s like I see pictures. Like a movie almost.