Making a Deal

Sometime after nine in the morning I was awoken by the telephone—miraculously acquired a few months ago with great difficulty, arranged thanks to my sports performance. Anita was calling and wanted to see me. 

I told her that I was waiting for very important mail, and as soon as the mailman came, somewhere around noon, I would go to the establishment. Word about the EXTRA term luckily as there wasn’t, so thank God as yet there wasn’t. Nevertheless, I got a very strange piece of mail. 

The envelope and stamp, with Bolcio Bierut, indicated that it had been sent from within the country, but inside there was a colored postcard showing some main street in a Western city. The photo on the postcard was taken at night. It was the quintessential West. Everywhere full of neon, ads for Coca-Cola, Camels, films, theater, concerts, cinemas, bars, restaurants and the devil knows what else, in the street many beautiful, large, colored cars and on the sidewalks swarms of well dressed pedestrians. On the other side of the card I easily recognized the characteristics of Zula’s handwriting. 

She wrote that she was already there, that she was sorry, but she couldn’t say anything, that she missed me and thought about me a lot, signed: Uncle Apollinari’s mare—Stuttgart. 

Last time we saw each other was some two weeks before the assentierung. She acted a little strange, but I interpreted it completely differently. We spent a day and a half together, and on the second night, when on the radio, the entire time tuned to the American station for American soldiers, when for them Lena Horne sang STORMY WEATHER, Zula, being in a slight bit of drunk vision and also in a heightened romantic state, began to beg me, that always, when I hear this melody, always to think of her. 

Indeed, to this day wherever and whenever I hear it, I always momentarily think of Zula. Keeping in mind her great romances, I am not a hundred percent sure that this beautiful standard would only have such associations for me. I remember that STORMY WEATHER Zula had then with her an incredible amount of money, of course in cash on hand, and I even laughed at her, that probably she wanted to buy my whole street. The next morning she confided in me a secret, that she would be gone for some time, but that she would always think of me and, in time, give word.

Just after twelve I arrived at Anita’s. Nowobogacky was not there and Anita received me alone. Nowobogacky liked the wide gamut and as a great fan of the American films that were ever rarer in domestic cinema, in the back of his from the outside very modest looking cobbler shop he had a large conference room, as for a medium sized American corporation. 

A long dark HOCHGLANZ wooden table, this executive chair, telephones, a large globe styling antiquity, several enlarged, silver framed photos of the ever beautiful and to wit photogenic Anita, mainly from the time when she still gave ass around town, on the wall some sports paraphernalia and diplomas. Here he welcomed his most trusted suppliers and contractors as well as his most important interests—here he felt like a real BOSS. And in this the most humorous thing was that his staff, with maniacal fervor, always called this cabinet an eatery. I won’t get into details, but on this day Anita looked revelational. 

When I came in, to my great surprise, atop the long dark table I saw laid out six sheets of cork, which I sold yesterday to Zapora. 

“I know that you were looking for me yesterday. Vlady,” this was Nowobogacky’s name, “followed your traces and brought this,” she pointed at the cork. 

“You couldn’t wait with this one day?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” I replied, “because between the two of us, I’m going to have lots more of it, and some.” 

“From where?” Anita asked. 

“It’s a bit complicated to get into now,” I made a turn. 

“Listen,” Anita said, “however much of this you would have, Vlady is able to buy everything from you. Of course not at such high a price as you sold to poor Zapora, but we think that maybe three hundred for the small and six hundred for the large would not be bad for you at all, and it would pay off for us too. Only one condition: you sell to us and to no one else not one piece. We buy everything and pay immediately. When can you acquire some?” 

“Soon, this week even, maybe tomorrow by the end of the day.” 

With Anita in sum I spent almost an hour. We sat, we drank some vermouth and she implored me to stay longer and wait for Nowobogacky, who would arrive shortly. A few times she would return to the front for a moment. I stayed because I loved to look at her. Beyond her classic beauty, which she categorically possessed, she became now also sex personified. The years of gymnastic training had instilled in her wonderful movement and full control of her bodily dynamics. The smallest of her moves, the subtlest gestures, were perfect. Nowobogacky had to be happy, if he were able to value this. I was sure that he was. 

I left, saying, that now I had to work quickly in our shared interest.