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    The wall everywhere, all around, the wall above all, was in the Home. Curse me, the wall.

    Only somewhere far away was there a freedom, a big water which couldn’t be built in by any wall.

    “Here,” said the son of Kejtin one morning and started to laugh, happy laughter, from the heart. Curse me, that was when it happened for the first time, she spoke to us. I swear, the wall couldn’t do anything to the water, she thundered. We heard. She was coming. Curse me, she was coming, even over the wall.

    The image of the Big Water can never be lost. It was as though she, together with the yearning for the Senterlev Mountain, achieved real meaning, as though this wondrous magical dream were possible, could materialise in some way. The Big Water is unattainable, she has to be in the heart of a person. In his dream. Curse me, for the whole time we were in the Home I don't recall I wanted anything else from life. Like the dearest thing; like the face of my mother I kept her deep in my heart. I didn't even talk to the son of Kejtin about that, you couldn't talk to anyone about that, I thought. It was magic. A dream. I would never exchange that great, free water, not for everything in this world. Curse me, I wouldn't give her for anything, even though she was the sole cause of those and later sufferings, mine and Kejtin’s. And happiness, don't forget. A person who has travelled such a hard, humiliating road has to know the value of that impoverished, little muscle, the human heart. I swear, only our love divided into a thousand atoms, shared with the others, what you’ve given to others, that is all you have, that is where meaning is. Come on, then, let’s give our blood to those who are our brothers, our eternal confirmation. Oh, let’s hurry. The lunatic bell-ringer is striking his bell, every dream is cut short. Crazy, blind running, down dark, narrow stairs — Everyone in line! Everyone line up!

The assembly line in the home and the dear headmaster Ariton Jakovleski

    Our assembly line was the most sacred thing. On one side you could see the newly arrived ones and, on the other, the older ones. Even though they looked almost the same, you could, even at first glance, distinguish the first lot from the second. The older ones had already learned, in line you had to look directly at the forehead of the dear Headmaster Ariton Jakovleski. Exactly at his forehead, curse me. The newly arrived ones still permitted themselves the freedom of looking left and right, to look at the small, distant sky above the Home or just to look aimlessly for hours. Wandering on the patterned wall. God help those who forgot the line. If only you could get used to something like that from the first day; all you needed was to be a bit stupid and a bit two-faced then you could certainly achieve a good character appraisal and all that flows from that little piece of paper. Paper, head, blood. Life. If only you could’ve seen those who had the best “character appraisal”! Curse me, when they were in charge of the line, on duty, there wasn’t a scarier place than the Home. Oh God, how they killed themselves for the administrators, the instructors, how they would lie shamelessly, how they thought up vile suggestions. I think that chased us away the most from that place, that betrayal. The son of Kejtin couldn’t stand it anymore, he said “I have to escape”. Curse me, he said those words.

    That was at the very first step. The first lining up. But we were still only children and above all we wanted most to look at those places we weren’t allowed to look. However, a person can get used to anything. Curse me, a person can endure anything. More than once the dear Headmaster would say “When a bear can learn to dance, what remains for an intelligent being?” That was the whole of our education, I swear. Worth nothing; even a moron would understand all that was necessary were a few right and a few left “thoughts” of the dear Headmaster and it was totally clear. It became clear to you, as clear as bright daylight. After all, it quickly turned into action. For a little while, everyone who stuck out was pruned; walloped. There was no untidiness in the line. Soon enough, the line was understood. We weren’t so stupid, curse me.

    The Big Water was so far away from this yard. God, in the beginning we still believed in God — dear God, life was so far away from this place. The wall was all the way around as was the death-bringing toll of the bell. Curse me, the assembly line. The voice of the Big Water came as though in a dream. She was on the other side of the wall, enormous, free. All we could see was the wall. Black. With bum marks in a thousand spots, curse me, some poor souls in extreme despair had obviously tried to set fire to the wall. Earlier they were to be pitied rather than laughed at. But after one such attempt it didn’t occur to anyone to do something similar. Often the children and the objects became equal, it was difficult to separate one from the other.

    That morning we became familiar in the most impressive way with the administrator in the Home, comrade Ariton Jakovleski. You could meet all sorts of people in the Home. There were all sorts, all of the types created by God. Smart ones and stupid, mean and kind hearted, all types. The Home with its residents resembled a cuckoo’s nest. Just like everywhere else you could meet special and unusual temperaments which you could never make presumptions about with any certainty. Here, not even fantasy could help very much. Such people, whether because of natural stupidity or because of cunning and corruption are able very skilfully to conceal themselves from those around them. To look at him, there was nothing, nothing unknowable in the life of Ariton Jakovleski, it seemed, nothing in particular; a life, an upright, ordinary man, living the life of any mortal. But for the person who knew Ariton Jakovleski’s nature — those were complex, difficult examinations of the conscience. For a long time, he wouldn’t permit anyone to get close to his heart, as they say, it was covered all over with barbed wire but it was as if that soul was in an eternally dark camp. Curse me, you could count all of the facts of his poor life, no, I swear, you wouldn’t find the truth here. It was hidden like light in water and every attempt to just hold the light in your palm for just a moment with the water would be in vain. It is very hard to take light from deep water. Then again, the light is simply hidden in fine sand, so all you have to do is separate it from the fine grains of sand, collect it, find it, my friends. Curse me, what a thankless job, and let’s not even talk about the trouble, turning over one stone after another until you find that tiny place where, like the devil himself, in a little hollow, the accursed truth has hidden itself. And what of it, my friend, he’s not around anymore, in his place gapes a black hole, a grave. Curse me, somewhere the man drowned, he was lost, unseen.

    Because of the truth, curse me, for the truth, I will start at the beginning, then the sequence of events just as God created our beautiful world. In order I will tell you all that is known and not known about Ariton Jakovleski. Yes, just about one part of his life, about the part I knew and I don’t say this without reason, I presume he was not always so alone, so damned alone as we knew him in the Home. Ariton Jakovleski must have had his own house, his close relatives, maybe even children, sons and daughters, maybe he was a very happy father, person. An exemplary, gentle hearted father, I swear, it could’ve been said of him that his was not a barren nature, made that way at birth. Maybe Ariton Jakovleski (God, if that was his real name; war changes everything for a person) — maybe there was a time when he dreamed, hoped, maybe loved! Didn’t, curse me, that love ruin him in the end? Call me a beast, but there was a time when I prayed to God and before people, and today I do it too — when someone is judged, as much as is possible you cannot just look at one part of his life for something that perhaps is not his fault.