Originally published in the magazine Värske Rõhk, issue 40. The Estonian version can be read here.
I have created the English version of this text in order to take certain liberties a translator never can. Most important of those is the way direct speech is handled, which I have left unchanged and added a translation in the form of footnotes. In that sense the direct speech is the symmetric opposite of the Estonian version and the difference is only in the quantity of foreign speech in the text (as Estonian is the common language used in the story).
Unlike the Estonian version, this text has not been edited properly, so please excuse the mistakes in grammar, rection and other idiosyncraties that have slipped through.
By the time Arno
left school, a fog had covered the town. The late-November wind was
not very strong and a silence, anticipating the coming Christmas, had
taken a hold of the town. Already there were Christmas songs played
on the Raekoja plats and construction workers were placing a
tremendous flatscreen on the very moment. In their yellow vests, the
police was on high alert and Christmas peace was under guard on every
street. Arno had just finished his day’s work and was now thinking
of home. But since he was still in the town centre and the night was
still young, he found these small details to be enough of a reason to
stay for a little while longer. The week had just begun and it seemed
- for the time being at least - that it would be coming one of those
quiet evenings when very few people would be found on the streets
willingly. He thought back at the previous week and the week before
that, and regrets weighed heavily on him. The fog was getting
thicker, he gladly stepped among it.
Soon he was
wandering around aimlessly, passing the usual places and looking
inside windows. There too, only a small number of people sat,
strangers mostly, an occasional acquaintance among them. Only when he
had reached Tehas did his luck change. On another occasion he would
probably have gone foward - the person in question studied economics
and they had known each other better as children -, but he was not
very picky on that night. The week had, after all, just begun, all
ways out remained open and even home was a short distance from Tehas.
A familiar ooze of
sweat and grease shot at him as he opened the door. The music was
rather quiet and there was an air of temperance among the voices
inside. The girl behind the bar said hello, he ordered the cheapest
beer as usual and went to the back room. It turned out that there
were actually two people he knew (he recognized the other face but
they had never really spoken). He raised his hand to greet and others
did the same.
“Pole ammu
näinud, Joosep.”
“Arno! Ega
jah.”
“Kas ma...?”
“Jajah - võta
tool.”
As Tehas at that
time was emptier than usual, it was not that difficult to find one.
He dragged the chair at the boys’ table and took a seat next to
them. After a moment of silence, Joosep spurred back to life: “Ahjaa!
Arno - see on Georg Adniel. Ta on välisüliõpilane Saksamaal.”
He
then turned towards Georg Adniel. “This is Arno. He is my friend.”
The German nodded
and said:: “Very nice to meet you, Arno. I’m Georg.”
Arno wanted to
answer, but words got stuck in his mouth. He had never been that good
with languages in school.
“Yes. Very nice.”
He took a large
gulp of beer and this helped him get over the moment. At the same
time, Joosep started to explain the situation to the foreigner: „Me
and Arno, we come from same place, went school together, grew up
together and had lots of fun then. Kas
sa mäletad, Arno,”
he said, switching to Estonian, “kui
me koolimaja tiigi juures venelastega kaklesime?”
Arno did remember;
there had been seven of them he thinks - all the boys from the
village - and three or four of the Russians. But the Russians were
bigger too. They had driven in from town, vodka with them and loudly
started to break things. Arno would have wanted to call the teacher
or the police, but Joosep didn’t let him. It’s a matter of honor,
he said, and so they went to protect the honor of their home. Next
week neither Arnor or Joosep made it to school - Arno because his
wounds still needed healing, Joosep because nobody wanted to see him
there. He heard from others later that the princal had seen Joosep
the next day and tried to hit him with a fire iron. Arno doubted,
whether this had exactly been what happened, but something among them
definitely took place and a few years later, when they started
writing a petition against the old principal, Joosep had been one of
the first to sign it. At any rate, this was the last time they had
any closer contact. The blood that had been jointly spilled rather
drove the boys apart, and during the next few years Arno tried to
avoid any dealings with Joosep quite consciously. At the end of ninth
grade, their paths parted completely - Arno went to a secondary
science school in Tallinn, Joosep stayed put. That had been about
five years ago and it had only been September when the two boys got
back in touch with one another.
“Jah,
mäletan küll,”
Arno answered. But he did not have any desire to start discussing the
question in any great length (especially if Joosep was planning to
translate everything to English), so he turned the conversation to a
more familiar topic. “Oota,
sa õpid majandust, eks?”
Joosep nodded.
“Hakkasin
see sügis.”
“Sa
oled esimesel aastal?”
Arno was surprised. “Olime
ju samas klassis.”
„Läksin
pärast kooli kohe tööle – Soomes ehitamine ja muu selline. Siis
tuli sõjavägi peale. Hea kah, et tuli. Muidu oleksingi äkki sinna
ehitama jäänud.”
“Ja
tagasi ei kutsu?”
Joosep shook his
head. “Tead,
sa võid ju raha eest rügada terve elu, aga kaua sa ikka teiste
taskuid täidad. Teen oma kolm aastat ruttu ära, panen äri püsti
ja viie aasta pärast ehitan Soomes juba enda maja. Väike mökki
järve ääres mändide vahel poleks paha, või mis?”
he added with a grin. Arno’s father had likewise been a builder an
led the seventh largest construction firm in Central Estonia (based
on the turnover of 2002.). Then he too found that much more
profitable than building houses is selling them. The times were good,
the old man had plenty of contacts and the banks were somewhat more
lenient in giving loans. As a smart kid, it was clear for Arno pretty
early on that an investment loan is not the same as a private loan
and that SMS-loans pose an ineffable danger to the Estonian economy.
Soon enough they
started living in a new exclusive suburban project near Tallinn. In
the beginning they were almost the sole residents of the
neighbourhood and when Arno walked home from the bus at evenings, he
often imagined himself as the last person on Earth among empty houses
and half-finished construction sites. ‘There will come soft rains’
or whatever it was called. Sometimes he borrowed the keys to these
empty houses and imagined it was exactly that.
This was all, of
course, in the beginning - the venture turned out to be immensely
successful and more and more young families found their home in the
new Männinõmme neighbourhood. Some men from Pärnu involved them to
a construction project in West-Estonia and in the end they even had a
third one in Latvia with a name Arno which never did manage to learn
properly.
“Aga mis sa ise
teed?”
asked Joosep.
“Olen
kirjanduses ja kultuuriteaduses. Hakkas just kolmas aasta.”
“Kirjandus!”
Joosep
shouted.
“Aga sul oli ju matemaatika alati selge. Mis sa sest kirjandusest
õpid?”
“Noh,
tead, kujunes välja kuidagi nii.”
Arno was just
about to finish school when it happened. The old man had a hear failure
and in school they kept repeating that cardiovascular diseases are
the number one cause of death in Estonia. This was not much of a
comfort. But there really wasn’t half as much time to cry than
mother used - already with a week strangers, “business partners”
appeared behind the door and talked of old debts, waving around with
some contracts.
Of course, what
happened next took place several steps well above Arno - stockholders
here, stockholders there, the Ministry of the Environment and
politicians. The only thing clear was that nobody really cared about
the him or his mother’s faith so eventually they came after, one
article of law at a time, even to the floor under their feet.
That is why it
was more than obvious by summer that he would like to get a far from
the capital as possible, likewise from all sort of speculation or
fighting over money. In that sense the Tartu University’s Facult of
Philosphy offered a perfect solution. Because in culture, he thought,
one is free and it is the morality of people that counts, not mutual
favours or self-righteous asswiping.
“Kes
sust siis saab,”
Joosep asked, still being somewhat shocked. “Eesti
keele õpetaja maakoolis?”
Arno sighed to
himself. It seems they were talking of all the old things again.
Secretly he peeked at his clock. It seemed that outside the weather
had cleared already, tomorrow’s lecture was to start at ten and if
went home right now, he could take even a third look at the
materials.
“Kuule,
naljakas, et ma sind just täna näen,”
said Joosep when no answer from Arno came. “Teele
tuleb täna Tartusse! Tegelikult me Georgiga siin Teelet ootasimegi,
ta peaks kohe ka tulema. Sa mäletad ju Teelet?”
For a moment, Arno thought deep back into his childhood and then shouted: “Teele?
Teele Jalgtee?!”
“No ega ta
Jalgteeks kaua enam jää,”
answered Joosep, grinning and raised his right hand. There were
several rings, but his index finger was empty. “Peaks
suvel pulmad tegema. Oled ka kutsutud.”
“I think I need a
smoke,” suddenly the third man among them said. Joosep flinched
because while speaking, he had forgotten the German altogether, but
already a moment later he answered with his usual confidence.
“Yeah, me too.
Kas
sa tuled ka?”
he asked from Arno.
Arno did not
respond immediately. He did remember Teele. As a matter of fact, he
remembered her very well. Just a moment ago, he had been ready to
talk about tomorrow’s timetable and how he is teriibly sorry to
leave already, but now...
He did not smoke
generally, but he did keep a pack in his pocket just in case. He rose
up and on Joosep’s lead the three men left the empty Tehas. In
fresh air Arno’s mind started working better. Before moving away he
had lived fifteen years on the same street with Teele, their houses
being almost opposite to each other. They did not speak much (Arno
had to admit, that he had never been a really talkative person), but
they did share their way to school. When he stayed at home after the
accident by the pond, Teele had been the only one to visit him. Then
he had told her, what really happened (also how the most painful
blows he had received from Joosep because he had not dared to go
along). This conversation remained their childhood secret and, back
then, Teele had thought that Joosep was really a bad person. Knowing
that these two were now together fell upon Arno like a pile of
stones.
They stopped in
front of Äpu. Adniel had not yet stopped his smoke (it was one of
those fancier foreign brands, but Arno couldn’t really tell
anything more) and Teele was about arrive too. At first glance, Arno
did not recognize her at all - the blond girl she remembered had cut
off her hair, dyed them silvery grey and now wore glasses. He figured
he himself had not changed that much.
“Arno!”
she shouted and embraced the boy. „Sind
pole ju nii kaua näinud! Kus elad? Mis teed?”
Arno intended to
answer, but Joosep beat him to it and said to everybody: “Kuulge,
väljas on külm – lähme siis.”
This seemed a good idea and they moved down the stairs.
The night had
reached its peak - the people standing in front of the bar were like
a small wall which kept others waiting behind them. Still, it was not
that difficult to find a place on the left side of the room. Arno
quickly made sure that there were not any other people he knew here
tonight and that was all the better. Now that things had started
going their way, he did not really wish to see any new faces that
evening. The air had cleared, all players had taken their position
and Arno remembered that besides mathematics, he had once also been
fond of chess. Joosep proposed that he would go and buy some drinks.
Having taken money from all of them (though Teele’s part he
returned graciously), he stepped out from the immediate hearing
distance. This time the silence that ensued was rather short, however
- Adniel, who had so far been stoically silent, suddenly asked:
“So
what are you studying, Arno?”
Arno doubted for a
moment as he was not sure in his answer. Then he remembered the
webpage his curriculum was at: “Culture sciences. What about you?”
“Well, in
Düsseldorf I majored in philosophy,” Georg answered, apparenlty
happy that somebody finally was talking to him, “but I’m focusing
more on theology right now – I plan to do my PG thesis on the
Herrnhuter
Brothers here in Estonia. What’s your research topic?”
This kept going
worse! Arno thought hard. Wasn’t there supposed to be a class about
this? ”It’s very complicated,” he said then, “how long you in
Estonia are?”
And so forth;
they found out that Georg Adniel came to Estonia in September and
that he was going to stay here for at least spring term, he was
living in the student residence at Raatuse street (he knew Joosep
from there, actually), but planned on moving out on the first chance,
being a little old for that kind of life. Estonia is nice, the nature
beautiful, the people friendly (though not as talkative as the
Germans) and the beer cheap and good. In addition he said that he
offers - more to pass time than to earn money - private lessons in
German. He was surprised by how many Estonians knew German and
praised the Estonians’ talent for languages.
“Oh, you are
German!” Teele suddenly exclaimed and said something Arno could not
understand. Georg Adniel laughed at the phrase and responded in kind.
Joosep came back the same time, four glasses in his hand.
“Noh,
janutab ka juba?”
He put his hand in his pocket and drew some coins and four candies.
“Näe
– natuke jäi üle kah. Ja neil on seal süüa!”
Arno laughed and
took the candy. But the money was worn out and dirty, seeming - when
compared to the beginning of the year - somehow unpleasant. “Sa
hoia seda enda käes,”
he said to Joosepile, “järgmise
korra jaoks.”
Joosep looked at
the heap of money with some discomfort, but nonetheless wiped the
coins on the palm of his hand and pushed them deep into his pocket.
Georg Adniel saw this and made some joke about the europäische
Finanziell– und Vertrauenskrise.
They both laughed even though Arno did not understand, what was there
to laught about. When he looked at Joosep it seemed that Joosep did
not understand anything at all.
The night
dragged on. Some new company arrived, others left. It also happened
that people came in together, then already they went their separate
ways. Everybody had a desire either to find or replace someone and
each passing hour more and more aimless wanderers, who just banged
the door. By midnight a group of people from a university corporation
appeared and scared off most people with their loud patriotic
singing. When the dust had settled, only a small, diminishing host of
people remained.
As time
progressed, Joosep said less and less - a bad sign when one is at the
consumption of alcohol. Arnon increasingly had to keep up the
conversation and this made him feel unpleasant. So they spoke of
school, the differences between faculties and of Tartu in general -
Arno had after all been here for three years alread, Joosep being
only on his first. These were the usual subjects from Arno’s
backpocket when he did not quite know, what to say.
At some point
Gerog Adniel announce that he would go and do another smoke. Joosep
did not react to this so the German went alone. Yet as soon as he had
left the room, Joosep turned to Teele and said sharply: “Kuule,
võta natukene rahulikumalt, eks?”
“Mida sa
sellega öelda tahad?”
Teele asked. During the last hour she had not talked to Joosep that
much and so the gradual change in the boy’s mood had also gone
unnoticed.
“Tead väga
hästi, mida ma öelda tahan,”
Joosep answered. As long as he was sitting quietly on his chair, it
was not as obvious, but now when turned around, it occurred in a
series of clumsy movements. Joosep, Arno realized, had been lost for
the evening.
“Joosep,
kuule...”
he started, but Joosep immediately snapped back: “Ole
sina vait korra.”
He then said to Teele: “Ma
tahtsin öelda, et no võta natukene rahulikumalt. Selle saksa
kutiga, eks.”
“Noh,
sa oled ikka omajagu loll tõesti,”
Teele laughed. “Ma
ei või kellegagi siis rääkida, jah?”
It seemed as if
Joosep had not hear this and said: “Tule,
lähme.”
“Ei
kavatsegi!”
“Lähme.”
He grabbed Teele
by her wrist and a grimace of pain appeared on her face. Yet no cry
followed and a moment later her resistance stopped. She shouted:
“Hästi!”
and
pulled her hand loose. They both stood up to leave and Teele said to
Arno, as if guessing, what he had in mind: “Jää
siia parem. Ma räägin temaga ise...”
They had just
reached the door (Arno was a little further off, fumbling with his
coat) when Georg came back in. He asked: “Hey, what’s up?”
Joosep pushed him
aside and said: “Fuck off. We’re leaving.”
Teele added
something in German and Arno - just before he slipped through the
door after them - muttered another “sorri”
to conclude. During the next few weeks, he thought, I have to be
careful not to meet Georg Adniel.
The Rüütli
street was practically empty. Two police officers in yellow vests
were passing by and Arno noticed his companions moving towards the
town centre. There were sounds of an argument and he decided to keep
some distance. This would have been a good moment for a smoke, but he
had no matches so he dropped the idea at that.
It seemed that
Joosep was keen on avoiding any excessive attention and they turned
left on the first corner. Yet the anger must have diminished and Arno
caught up with them after the parking lot behind the Public Library.
They had just crossed the street when Arno called out for them.
Joosep stopped.
“Arno...
kurat, mul vaja kusele minna.”
He then fled behind
the writer’s monument.
Arno sadly looked
at Teele and asked: “Sinuga
on kõik korras?”
Teele just shrugged and replied:: “Mis
seal ikka. Küll ta hommikuks rahuneb.”
Arno stepped a
little closer to Teele. It seemed terribly wrong, what had happened
to her since they last met. It was not the girl next door he once
knew, but a complete stranger that now stood before her and he was
not sure, whether he could ever cross this strangeness.
“Sa
räägid päris head saksa keelt,”
he said for the sake of saying something. “Miks
sa ülikooli ei tulnud?”
“Ülikooli!”
she laughed, “Mis
mul sellest ülikoolist? Mul on elus muud ka kui kool. Kust ma selle
raha võtan? Mul on haige ema kodus. Kes siis tema eest hoolitseks?
Ja kas sa arvad,”
she pointed her head towards Joosep in the distance, “et
tema jätaks mind hetkekski rahule, kui ma siia elama tuleksin?”
“Ma
arvasin lihtsalt...”
“Ei,
Arno, sa ei ole kunagi lihtsalt arvanud. Ainult keeruliselt. Hüvasti,
Arno. Ole tubli.”
Teele turned
around and grabbed the approaching Joosep by arm. The boy did need
some support too as he had apparently tripped somewhere and his
trousers were all torn apart and dirty. Teele waved one more time,
but when they then moved towards Kaarsild, neither of them looked
back anymore.
Arno started
walking towards home. The wind grew and he pulled his coat more tight
around him. he had a desire to yell insults, throw stones at windows
or spit at the face of the first person he met. But the town was
empty, so he was left alone with his anger. From the Rüütli street
to the right, then to the left again, up the hill and away home.
Until morning.
“Vabandage,
kas teil helkur on?”
a voice suddenly said so that Arno jerked. He turned around and saw
behind him a man with a yellow vest. It was possible that he had
already seen him during the night, but then again they all seemed the
same to him. This one did look a little fatter than they usually
were.
“Helkur
peab olema, kui öösel liikuda,”
the man added when Arno made no reply. He stepped a little closer and
Arno sensed the stench of filth and alcohol flowing from him. His
first reaction would have been to keep his distance, but Arno forced
himself to stay put. “Nüüd
eriti, sest muidu võtab politsei kinni. Oodake.”
He put down his plastic bag, the bottles clanged, and pulled from his
pocket a small yellow slab of plastic. “Võtke
vähemalt siis see.”
Arno took the
reflector and observed it for a moment. The Comarket logo appeared
like a secret message. Still holding the reflector with one hand, he
started to grope in the pocket with his other. “Aitäh,
ma...”
But the man with the yellow vest raised his hand and said: “Häid
jõule teile.”
Then, not waiting for an answer, he went his own way.
Arno looked as he
parted, thoughts of a different kind of life drilling through his
brain. He stuffed the reflector to his pocket and moved further into
the night.
