We knew that Slovaks were fast Moravians, Moravians were a few bricks shy of a load, Czechs thought around the corner, Praguers were stuck-up pigs, and all of us were on the same map. Micka and I had been born with asphalt between our fingers, Bohler didn’t know who he was but had a degree in theology, and David was a hick but caught on at the speed of light and didn’t have any hang-ups since we were there to hold his hand. Even in his innocent phase, when he was still getting up to speed, not one Prague pig ever said a thing about the ludicrous way he moved or his overall appearance, not to mention the threads and the accent. Many a hanger-on was tempted no doubt, but we never gave them the chance.
If I didn’t know him, though, or didn’t get that vibe right away, I might like to slug him one myself, Micka admitted one night during a dance party at the Dom. We watched the horrified look on the face of one of our girlfriends as David attempted to move with her. Bohler just gave a perverted laugh. I felt a passionate longing for She-Dog run through me, something between a toothache and the thought of a sharp knife, careful, what’s the connection with David? Is it a sign? I asked myself, or maybe my power. It didn’t reply.
Micka organized the papers, tampering with rubber stamps, tuning in the contacts, pressing the lever to the ground, it was just about to begin, we were letting the genie out of the bottle, and I for one was hoping it would go in a straight line, I stretched and twisted my body, rehearsing my speech for the play.
Bohler stood by, the helper, also waiting for motion, eyes fixed upward. We were ready.
David meanwhile ridiculously rolled his eyes and cocked his head, paying no attention to how he moved his knees and elbows, sometimes even walking without moving his arms at all, as if he were herding cows. Whenever we went to the Galactic Bar, Černá’s, or the Dom, he would sprawl out and stare around at the carpetbaggers and local rabble, guzzle down the Water and not pay attention at all to his left, where the angel of death most often lurks. He didn’t see why he should spit whenever he saw a black cat, ain’t packin no chew, fellers, he puzzled. He didn’t see why we always kept handy a toothpick, clothespin, or length of stick when we ate at snackbar counters, not realizing how many times knocking on wood had warded off serious screw-ups. He climbed into cabs headfirst as a rule instead of with his feet. He wasn’t afraid of fog or gloom. He didn’t know to weep at the right moment, when your world is complete and like a cup that’s overflowing, to relax the motion of your sweet red heart, but that was one thing we couldn’t teach him. He didn’t know it was crucial to puke after drinking cheap wine or liquor to avoid breaking out in goose blotches. We weren’t drinking the cheap stuff for long, though. We also banned him from wearing necklaces … then you’re sweaty an unflexible, Micka lectured him. That made David sad, he was used to wearing necklaces of teeth and claws from bears he’d killed back home, up in the mountains. Rings’re all that’s allowed, an earring at the extreme, bracelets’re up to the individual, silver’s good if that’s your thing. Silver’s always good, I tried to comfort him. Micka went into the details: short hair, long hair, normal ponytail, okay, but never one a those thin little braids, you’re a man, not a rat.
David studied hard and we were amazed how much we knew. Micka taught him the fundamentals of hand-to-hand combat, I taught him how to run for it, and Bohler taught him the Our Father and gave him his first rosary. It was moving to see the way he gaped at that holy rope. Bohler’s Laotian lady was the first person to truly touch David, and it was such a beautiful experience for him that he spent weeks tagging around after her like a puppy, not realizing it wasn’t some special trait of hers but that all our female friends were more or less capable of the same.
From the moment Micka found David at the train station, spotting his hidden strategic capabilities with that old practitioner’s instinct of his … man, I saw him standin there starin … right into the chrome parts, through all the guards an everything … he was hungry … an I could feel it in the air, he was runnin through combinations, it was intense … it was obvious he was broke, an then he disappeared, an three minutes later he had it … I could tell he had no idea where he was, but without even stoppin to think he took off in the right direction, under the bridge, hand raised, keepin the edge of his left pinky between him an the river, I don’t think he even knew he was doin it … there was just somethin in him sensed what to do, I mean he walked right through the Ghoul’s shadow an didn’t even get scared … an I could see that the kid knew how to get what he wanted, sniffin it out, wanderin through the usual spots, steerin clear of the useless stuff an gettin through the essentials without a scratch … an it was obvious to me that he saw, that he knew what was goin on … so Micka brought him in, and by a tacit but irrevocable decision the young David instantly became a member of the pack, which took care of him from then on.
David constituted a solid clause in the contract, we protected him as long as necessary, and later on he protected us too.
We were a community, and while a strong shock could’ve caused it to crumble, one of the reasons we had it was in order to withstand the shocks. And besides, we actually liked each other. Despite all the jokes, the gags, the booze … the daytime paranoia, when the street turns gray and the buildings at either end suddenly start tilting toward each other … and the nights when you feel the pounding of your heart, like the sound of some distant hammer, the forge … dark love tearing you up, because it’s a serious thing when you couple with some stray bitch amid the chaos and you don’t really know … who’s who … despite all the low blows and fast moves, despite all the spirals of speech, when you hurl the fury of your hangover into your partner’s face, suddenly a bare hand is offered, palm unarmed, your droog’s bare back, exposed for the biting, it seems, but you know that in reality it’s there for you to defend … and that person with his eyes turned the other direction is going to defend you too … because you both want to survive, waiting as long as possible … at first we went everywhere with David and only took him to our establishments. He had to change the way he talked. Look, better yet, don’t even say another word to that girl … cooch … don’t call her that, aright? … just tell her the air pressure’s weird today, Micka lectured the boss, slicing into shapely morsels the animal flesh on his plate, David was still growing, and he scarfed it down like crazy. Yeah these pink earphones’re pretty cool, I told the boss, no seriously, they go with your scarf, aw shit, they just fell in the ditch, don’t worry, I’ll buy you some new ones. No, David, really, Micka lectured our boss, you can’t have Kyusu, I’m serious, the only ones you can use are Toshu, nothin I can do, that’s just the way it is.
David was very quick to grasp what is, what isn’t, and what could be, and which truly mattered at any given moment. He started to think around the corner. Suddenly he was popping up in underpasses and vanishing down hallways, waving to us from the ramparts while we were still dashing toward the moat. He got into the slang so quickly and used the right words so perfectly, it hit me that Czech had exploded along with time.