Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Porridge

He was drunk. "Make no mistake" he was telling them all, "Make no mistake: mucho - steenko-boracho!"

And the boys, gathered around Settiz Faquek later that very night, cracked up and bought him drinks as he celebrated. The party raged into the night. I watched every bit of it, from the bar, the bandstand, the bathroom...I watched all of it.

"God knows why"

Is what my uncle Egrit when I came home that day. At the time I was delicate. Perhaps I overreacted, but I detected a tone in his voice that I didn't like. You can't let stuff like that go by, because every time you do a piece of your soul dies in your chest and your manhood is severely diminished.

I helped Egrit to his feet, because punching him had taken the tension out of the situation and we could speak like gentlemen. Egrit - fat fuck - he said he saw the men come. Egrit said they were loud, and obviously from the government and there were men there, bad men, who he'd recognized. He thought about calling me.

The shop phone is out. Undependable...

He said it like gospel, but the phone worked fine. It had been out just once in my entire life, for a two week period in the summer of 1999.

I felt I should hit him again, and I did. Afterwards, what else? I went where Egrit told me to go. For vengeance, for my family.

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