I wake up again in the middle of the night, this time from an sms. I forgot to switch off my cell phone. I thought it could be from Reiner, but it is from someone called Mister Lupus. His name is not Lupus, but this is how I call him. He is someone from another life, another century, even millenium before our era, someone I met when I was living in another country, had another home and another friends. The message says “Dobze”. It is in Polish. Mister Lupus ir not Polish, he has nothing to do with Poland, but it used to be our special greating. I stare at it. It is 4am and knowing mister Lupus he must be in some nightclub at this time. I struggle with the temptation to send him back “Dobze” – it’s like how do you do? – how do you do, it was how we always started to communicate, but I can not remember his face. Neither what did he wear. He used to be alive, now his is a ghost. Almost like everyone else.
I go away from La Kuki. My sister says that I don’t have proper relationships because I am afraid of being rejected. This is absolute nonsense, like saying “women become lesbians because they have lost trust in men”. Am I rejected? I don’t know. I feel sad. From the other hand, he said “I should go”. He never said that we would meet again. Yet he said that he will call.
And why then he did not tell me his real name?
From the other hand, you also did not tell your real name to Hans B.
But that was only because Hans B. deserved to be punished, don’t you understand.
Punished for what?
Because he is selling electric sews.
I am doing this. I am going to La Kuki to find Reiner. Just to say a good bye to him. He said it to me, so why would not I be allowed to say one to him?
It is not far from my job, so I walk after work. It is a two storey building, in the first floor there is a bar, in the second floor the restaurant.
I am looking for Reiner, I say to the guy at the bar. For whom? For the cook, Reiner.
We don’t have a cook with such name. Are you sure? Small, with short blond hair. He shrugs his shoulders. No. We just have two Italian cooks, this is it.
Could Reiner be Italian? Anything, but not Italian.
Would you like to eat something? The barman asks. You know that we are a vegetarian restaurant.
I could never be a vegetarian because dreams eat human flesh.
Two months ago I had agreed to participate in some experimental coaching session. HR is organising the pilot phase with volunteers to see how it goes. I must have been in some Dalai Lama mood, when I accepted the meeting invitation and now is time to pay the price.
I am meeting with the psychologist, Bernie, she is a witch like Margareth, that I can see right away. All psychologists must be witches. To be on the safe side I have prepared a little story about my relationships with Billy, some innocent problems and sinless conflicts we have in the office. This, I hope will take our 90 minutes and then she will leave me in peace.
However, when I open my mouth, the first thing she says is: “You are very committed to you job”. Oh, really? I ask. I don’t think I am committed, I say. Oh yes, you are, you are, she says, I can see it immediately. I want to speak about Billy and our imaginary conflicts, but I see/ that she sees/ that I see that all my pre-prepared story is just a castle in the sky that at this very moment is being blown away by an invisible wind.
I wake up in the middle of the night and almost jump in my bed. My heart is pounding like crazy. I just had the biggest revelation of all times. I solved the puzzle.
He wrote “I should go”. I thought that he meant he should go away from his computer. Now I understood. He meant that He Should Go – for good. It was a good-bye. Just like that. I lay in the night and watch the reflections from the streetlights on the ceiling. They remind me of star pistols moving around and around. The water pipe in the bathroom is silently hissing and it is so quiet in the world. Why?
Amanda says that I have such a desire for Reiner because I can not get him. You saw him only once and he disappeared. He is filled with absence and absence is the only perfect thing in the world. (She studied philosophy, this is where it comes from.)
If you would have a possibility to meet him again, when you want, you would be already bored with him. What would you two speak about? Are you interested in cooking?
I start a vague argument, that in general I am very interested in cooking, one day I will do seated dinners that the whole country will be jealous about, but it does not sound very convincing. I remember that he mentioned he had a girlfriend, but I did not pay any attention to that fact. How anyone could be restricted if he has a girlfriend or a boyfriend? I don’t understand that. When I was fifteen and I was walking one winter night home through the cemetery I promised to myself that I will never ever be faithful to anyone.
Reiner replies to my e-mail. He just writes three sentences, something very sweet and hearty. He calls me “little mouse”. At then at the end he writes “I should go”. I write him back and wait for the answer, but it does not follow.