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Life Begins on Friday
161
My eyes remained glued
on his clothing: an elegant,
seemingly brand-new suit,
whose pieces I could not
quite name, and tall, highly
polished black boots. Beside
him a hat had been cast
aside, but there was nothing
other than that. I saw he
was breathing. There was
no doubt that he was alive.
‘It was the devil himself
made me leave the house
today, to get away from my
wife’s brattle, and now I’ve
met the devil himself, God
forgive me. What to do?’
He
suddenly
turned
around and looked at me
suspiciously. ‘It wasn’t you,
was it?’
He bent his forefinger, as if
pulling a trigger.
‘I? God forbid! I don’t know
one end of a gun from
another.’ ‘Come off it! You
can’t fool me. Where’s your
bistol?’
‘What do you mean? I don’t
have a pistol,’ I said, feeling
like a bad actor in a good
play.
‘What are you jabbering
on about?’ Petre began to
shout. ‘I’ll bunch you in the
head, see if I don’t!’
And he brandished his fists
at me.
‘I have never held a pistol in
my life,understandthatonce
and for all! I have never seen
this... this boy in my life. He
should be taken to hospital
as amatter of urgency. I think
he has fainted. I do not even
know where I am. I do not
recognize anything. I think
I must have fainted myself.
Maybe I fell. Maybe I was
struck. I do not understand
anything of this. Anything at
all!’
Unfortunately my voice
trembled. Petre gave me