Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Life Begins on Friday

encounter with Nicu outside the Central Girls’ School, his visit to the Icoanei Church, lasting one hour and twenty minutes, his knocking on the locked door of the deacon, something about a plump woman (named Epiharia) who presumably knew more, his departure holding a blanket, and the hours and hours he had gone round in a circle, at random, as if he were trying to make fun of those following him and had irked the trusty coachman more than he cared to say. He had tugged on the reins dozens of times, until the horse was dizzy. And then there was his chasing after a passer- by on Brezoianu Street, and finally, at the very end, his taking refuge inside a hovel next to the Church of St Stephen, also known as the Stork’s Nest. At this point,

the Police coachman had cheated: between midnight and the first cock’s crow, he had gone home to bed, sure that the man was not capable of taking one more step, because, unexpectedly for a man of his status, he had not taken a single cab or coach ride during all his lunatic roaming. ‘I’ll bet you anything he’s a madman. We ought to ask Mărcuța, and Dr Șuțu on Plantelor Street, and Dr Marinescu,atthePantelimon Hospital.’ ‘Bravo, well said, Budac. I shall ask you to go there right away. I want an answer by this afternoon. And before anything else, go to the Hospice in Teilor to see how the young man who was shot is doing. If he is conscious, come back immediately. It is extremely important that I talk to him.’

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