Decision to Escape

In the matter of the EXTRA term they had to have forgotten about me. It was approaching the fourth of December, the name day of the patron of miners, who had entered my head for good and of whom throughout this time I thought about ever more intensively.

During our fourth and for then last dance during Sokal’s concert I managed to get from her this valuable information, and also to exchange telephone numbers.

I wrote her number down in pen on the left sleeve of my white shirt, which I had under my sweater, and my number, laughing, I wrote with this same pen on her left forearm, exactly such as were tattooed prisoners in the concentration camps.

Count Czechowski, as if falling underground, for two weeks did not telephone nor pick up the telephone, so the automobile for now belonged to me.

Many times I dropped by the café, where the boys played, but the patron of the miners I never again saw.

I even asked Bławat about her. Indeed, he knew who I was talking about, remembered her, her very exotic nature and name, because even though I considered him then a judicious old man, he was very attuned to feminine charm, but nothing beyond this that she apparently lived somewhere near the marketplace, was he able to tell me.

I noticed that probably because of her with distaste I thought of the moment when I would finally get this horribly delayed summons for the EXTRA term, which will be the automatic signal for my departure from this country.

Often my thoughts returned to Leo’s story, which so suggestively and so descriptively illustrated for me all of this during our recent educational symposium on the topic of cleaning shoes.

After several days of deliberative thinking I came to the conclusion that I would only make use of the Russian mafia in a critical situation, meaning when I will already have in my hands the conformation card. In any other situation NO—because I don’t trust Russians, even such Russians who could tell the difference between Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra.