“Goodbye, dear cousins.”
“Goodbye, Leme! Goodbye, lovely cousin.”
“Goodbye.”
“I hope you never come back,” my dear aunt couldn’t stop herself wishing me a good trip. That was the blessing of my aunt on the third step I took. Curse me, a blessing.
I left not altogether sad, I left with a strange, unfamiliar happiness, all the way to Baska, I felt happy. I swear, the Spring sun was blazing on the snow, getting clearer, stronger. Oh, what beauty, the visibility was increasing everywhere, all around, the snow was melting, going over the plain, something warm entered me like a current, some strange, beautiful shiver shook me. Curse me, it was in Baska, I can’t forget it. It was here we were herded from all the different areas, dirty, frightful little children. It was here they burdened me with him and that’s what I wanted to tell you about.
They brought him to Baska under guard. He was a boy, a spectre, seemingly my own age but who, it turned out, was really thirteen or fourteen. He was one ugly boy, the ugliest boy, tall, thin, bent over like a willow branch, with crooked shoulders, and then, his strange, bulging eyes, as though he’d never had any sleep, as though they’d never been shut. He was barefoot, dark, ragged and I don’t know why, he was always smiling. Curse me, he winked at me; he just winked. It was as if lightning hit me. “A bit touched,” I thought to myself, and at that moment he burst out laughing, as though he could read my thoughts. Curse me, he understood. After that, he stared into the empty sky somewhere far away, he didn’t pay any attention at all to what was said about him. Curse me, at that moment, he wasn’t there, he’d travelled away. After that I saw how much he wandered, I swear I was terrified when comrade Olivera Srezoska, instructor and Assistant-Headmaster of the Home, stuck him next to me. The damned family reputation. I wanted to tell her, having responsibility for others is not my personal character, it was my father’s, but she cut me off quickly.
“Leme, this bad boy will be next to you in the assembly line,” she said. “You are responsible for him, remember that.”
This word “responsible” was new to me, too. I didn’t know it. She should’ve said, “If he runs away, Leme, I’ll beat you like a dog, I’ll put you down.” Curse me, what could I do when my grandfather was shameless and taught me such shameful and appalling things. This word, at first, didn’t remind me of anything, or if I did recall it, it was as something ugly, dog like and unmentionable.
His endless rambling made the greatest impression on me; it was as if he were a bird. At those times, his unattractive face changed, became beautiful. Curse me, all of his being would change, and a mysterious, unknown and unnoticed light seemed to shine from him. Never seen before, I swear. The teacher, old Mr Verdev, could’ve spat on his physics, that light was not found in science. It was some great, wild fortune. That’s what I thought when I watched him hastening along the road, floating away. Curse me, it was as if he wasn’t in line, as though he was not walking along that bumpy, grooved country track. I swear, as if he wasn’t on the ground. He flew as if the whole countryside, all of the plain, was his. Curse me, he was far away from that bleak, muddy plain, far away from that black column of unfortunate children, gentle as lambs.
Olivera Srezoska paid him special attention, if another child did something wrong, she would shout at him:
“Why do you sway when you walk?”
or:
“Don’t wave your arms about, walk properly,”
or again:
“Why have you raised your head so high? Why are you laughing? What are you laughing about, you ragged good for nothing? Look at yourself; lower your head. Stop laughing.”
Then, for the first time, our eyes met. He looked at me warmly, with a cheerful smile, as though he were saying “Little fool, you are afraid. This barking, old hag has scared you! I am here, don’t worry!” Curse me, he acted as though he was the one who had been made responsible for me rather than me for him.
Distrustful, I gave him a sideways glance. At once, he understood my glance and now, without hesitation he said:
“You are mad, friend. You thought that about me but you are the one who is mad!”
He said the truth, curse me, as though he was inside my head.
“Come on, little fellow,” he said then, friendly, with that same crooked smile “don’t be a child. I know about little puppies like you, they just yap.” And in the same moment, he burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Curse me, nothing could stop him. He’s going to laugh for a few centuries, I thought to myself, he’ll laugh until the very last drop. I swear, he was a terrible giggler.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked him.
I thought he hadn’t heard me, but that wasn’t true. As soon as we entered the gardens he suddenly stopped, pointing toward the setting sun and said:
“There, it is there, the water. The Big Water! There it is. Look! What, don’t you believe me, comrade?” he asked affronted, and started giggling. “Okay, come on, you blind, little bird, open your eyes, look, over there, there where it is shining like a flame, there...”
He spoke with such excitement, such joy that you just had to believe him. Curse me, he saw it, he already had it in his eyes. It was wicked, inhuman not to believe him. It was as though each word was a strong sapling. All at once he ignited in me a strong fire which my heart did not recognise until then. Curse me, I fell about a thousand times and picked myself up again from that road. I looked over to the side where the sun was setting, I was looking for the Big Water.