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I immediately recognized the unexpected rhinoceros on his
T-shirt – from Dürer’s engraving, which made it all the
better (I am a Dürer fan), but Alik was unaware of its
provenance, although he knew plenty about painting – he
stopped me in my tracks with a comment that “Da Vinci
was not drawing people. When I realized that, all those
infants and debilitated Madonnas suddenly became
fantastically beautiful.”
This razor-sharp, independent thinking of his always
attracted me. He used his brain like a dagger. In situations
he would often say, “Steady the pulse rate,” as if setting the
tone, no emotion if you want to hit the target (the self-
control he had learned from his marksmanship).
Dialogue from that piece:
“So, do you want to become the world champion?”
“I want money, now, a lot of it, to satisfy all my desires.”
He was my equal. I felt that as acutely as the joy of hitting
the bullseye.
El had gray eyes, ash-blond curls; he was muscled, well-
proportioned, slightly shorter than me, and had the kind of
white skin that never tans even on an Arabian beach, – he
came back from Egypt as white as when he left.