Part 30 (1/2)
”Then you know. A brother is everything. Brothers don't let each other down.”
”He let you down?”
Slobodan Andersson trained his gla.s.sy eyes on Manuel and for several seconds the latter forgot himself, felt sorry for the man before him. In his pitiable eyes he could read the man's great sorrow and all the human misery he knew so well.
He picked up a knife from the container of silverware. A piece of meat still clung to it. He would be able to drive this knife into that fat body and then leave Dakar. Then all accounts would be paid and settled.
”I don't know,” Slobodan said, his gaze on the knife.
Manuel tossed the knife back in the basket, turned his back on Slobodan, and opened the dishwasher, which disgorged a cloud of steam.
”The uncertainty is the worst thing,” he said and lifted out a tray of gla.s.ses.
”I started with nothing,” Slobodan resumed and held up his palms as if to ill.u.s.trate his starting point. ”Just like you. I slaved like an animal, so afraid I almost wet myself. I have struggled, built something, and I don't want some b.a.s.t.a.r.d to come and take everything. Do you know what I mean? There has to be some justice. I have received nothing for free! Work, work, work, all day long, all year. And what is the thanks? The authorities chase you, they want taxes to fatten themselves up, so they can sit on their big behinds and pick their nails. It has to be clean as a laboratory, otherwise they close you down. The union hounds you, as if you were made of money. And regulations for everything, d.a.m.n it! I sure as h.e.l.l didn't get overtime or vacation compensation. I was happy I had a job.”
Slobodan steadied himself by putting his arm on the counter and rising to his feet before he went on.
”I'm creating jobs, d.a.m.n it! Do you know how many people I have trained, given a life? Yes, that's how it is, I've provided them with a life, all the people who don't have the b.a.l.l.s to fix something for themselves.”
He slapped the counter with his hand as if to underscore his words.
”I make people happy. They come here to eat and drink and forget for a moment that we live in a society of thieves. I am a generous person, but now there is no place for this. Everyone wants a piece, without making an effort.”
He fell silent as suddenly as he had started his outburst and sank down on the stool. He studied his hands, the cuticles and knuckles.
”Ungrateful,” he whispered in Swedish.
Manuel was not sure if he should take this opportunity to reveal his ident.i.ty and the fact that he was here to claim Patricio's money, but he decided to wait. A new idea had formed in his mind, one that had the potential to yield considerably more.
He did not want to kill Slobodan, only take his money and then crush him. The pathetic man on the stool could very well be allowed to suffer in torment several more days.
”I am done now,” Manuel said and pushed in the final tray.
He wanted to speak to Feo before he left Dakar. He longed for the peace and quiet of his tent, but perhaps there was something else he should do before he left. He peered out into the bar. Feo sat at the counter, leaning over a beer. Mns said something that made Feo smile and look around the dining room.
Manuel felt a pang of envy at the Portuguese. His smile was genuine. His tender talk of his wife and child was without artifice. He was happy in his work, prepared his food in laughter and with an economy of movement as if he were allied with fortune.
Slobodan coughed behind his back and Manuel turned around. The fat one was staring into s.p.a.ce. His head drooped and there was a glint of saliva at the corner of his mouth.
Manuel again felt a kind of sympathy for the man and for a moment, forgetful of the context, he had the impulse to help Slobodan Andersson to his feet, to console him and see to it that he made it home.
Then the door to the dining room was thrown open and Tessie entered, glancing at Slobodan who had slumped on the stool. She laughed.
”Are you the babysitter?” she asked with an American accent that took Manuel back to California.
”Wake up,” she said and shook Slobodan's shoulder, without taking any further notice of the dishwasher. ”It is time to go home. I'm calling a cab.”
The proprietor shook his head.
”I can't ...”
”Of course you can,” Tessie said, and Manuel understood, even though she was speaking Swedish.
”There's someone out there,” Slobodan slurred.
”What are you talking about? Are you supposed to meet someone?”
Slobodan tried to stand up but fell back onto the stool. Tessie sighed.
”d.a.m.n, I'm tired,” she muttered in English. ”It's bad enough that I have to wait on the customers, let alone play mom to this lump.”
”He thinks you should be grateful that you have a job,” Manuel said.
Tessie stared at him.
”Grateful! I should be grateful? Are you on drugs?”
She flounced out of the kitchen, exasperated and disgusted. Slobodan looked up.
”They're out to get me,” he groaned, before the heavy body jerked and the vomit projected straight out from his mouth. He stared at the floor in astonishment, with the slack jaw of a drunkard.
Manuel walked out into the bar and gave Feo a sign that he should come out into the kitchen. The Portuguese smiled at him, slid off the bar stool, and rounded the counter.
”What is it?”
”It's the fat one.”
The stench was indescribable. Slobodan had fallen asleep with his head against the wall. They cleaned it up together. Feo sprayed water onto the floor while Manuel mopped it up with rags.
”I have never seen him so drunk,” Feo said, and for once he looked worried.
”He talked about someone being after him,” Manuel said.
”I have heard him talk about that,” Feo said, turning the water off and looking at the sleeping man. ”He thinks the person who killed Armas is after him.”
”Who would want to kill both of them?”
Manuel's tension was like a cramp in his stomach.
”Armas should have been here,” Feo said, as if he hadn't heard the question. ”He would have picked him up by his arms and carried him home. Can you help me? He can't stay here.”
One hour later they had lugged Slobodan into his apartment. The first cab had refused to take them, and they had to call for a bigger cab that was able to fit Slobodan in the luggage area. lugged Slobodan into his apartment. The first cab had refused to take them, and they had to call for a bigger cab that was able to fit Slobodan in the luggage area.
Manuel and Feo then dragged the half unconscious proprietor up to his apartment and onto his bed.
They stood for a while and watched the shapeless body that flinched from time to time as if from a cramp. His breathing was heavy and wheezy and Slobodan muttered something in his sleep.
”Can you stay with him for a while?” Feo asked.
Manuel nodded and looked around the bedroom.