‘When I said to my mum that she ought to try opening the chakra in her brain, she flew off the handle. We didn’t speak for two days – can you imagine?’ she smiled.
Matjaž returned her smile, and felt an unstoppable urge to stroke her graceful fingers. Instead, he simply asked, ‘And how have your dad’s chakras taken to her god?’
‘There’s a slight issue there, you see – she didn’t have any chakras at all until my dad found a younger chakra – or should I say, chick,’ she clarified.
‘I thought as much. Although isn’t that a rather anti-feminist message? If you say a woman has to replace a man with a god when he leaves her, that’s like saying the man was like a god to her before . . .’
‘Maybe you’re right. She seemed completely at ease without any such authority before that. I hope that I’m able to remain atheist myself.’ She smiled slightly.
‘And you don’t resent your dad?’ he smiled back.
‘Oh of course I resent him, just not for that. Besides, you can’t really resent your parents.’
‘Why not? They brought you into this stupid world,’ complained Matjaž.
‘I know, I know, but what I’m trying to get at is that it’s too easy to blame our parents for this stupid world. Yes, they were stupid and the world is stupid, but even more stupid is the person who tries to use that to justify their own miserable existence.’
‘What is it that you resent your dad for?’ Matjaž asked, returning to her story.
‘I don’t know. It was always the little things, white lies – like why he couldn’t come to my piano recital, for example,’ she explained.
‘And why couldn’t he?’ Matjaž was intrigued.
‘He’d say that he had to stay at work, but I knew that he’d gone for a beer with his friends,’ she said. ‘He thought that little girls couldn’t smell alcohol on people, but they can.’ There was a trace of bitterness in her voice.
‘And how did he react when you told him?’
‘I never did. I played my mum’s game, always overlooking those kinds of things. It was as if she was so grateful for the relative comfort of our life, and those ten days’ holiday where we’d have a lovely time, that she’d indulge him in those kinds of little deceptions,’ Kat explained.
‘Until he deceived her in a big way . . .’ Matjaž said.
‘Yeah. It’s funny in a way. He stopped drinking because he suddenly discovered the meaning of life in the Saturday organic market and his preparations for some marathon or other – his new wife’s god comes in the form of running. Maybe it would have been better if Mum had stood up to him, if just once she’d got angry. But it’s pointless thinking about it now,’ she said softly.
Just then Matjaž caught sight of some people he knew approaching their table, the nouveau riche louts, and swore to himself. He could just feel that they were going to brutally tear down the fragile atmosphere of trust that he and Kat had built. He would have tried to hide, but he saw they’d already noticed him. He didn’t have time to warn her, either. Now it was what it was.
‘How’s it going, Matjaž?’ asked a tall guy called Andraž, whose legs were barely keeping him upright.
‘It’s going. How about you guys?’ he asked reservedly, addressing him formally.
‘Jure here’s just had a kid. We’re celebrating.’ He hiccupped.
‘Congratulations, Jure,’ Matjaž said, turning to another suit who was more wasted than the first two, and who took this as an invitation to join the table before he’d even introduced himself properly.
Jure sat down and began to ponder. ‘Childbirth, childbirth, it’s such a miracle. One minute it’s inside, the next it’s out. In – out, in – out, know what I mean?’ He emphasized this profound insight with gestures, then continued. ‘Father, son, grandson. And the circle is complete,’ he said in a deep, thoughtful voice. Then, as if he’d awoken from a trance, ‘What are you two drinking?’
They ordered another round. The company of the three young guys was now firmly established, and they offered a very perfunctory introduction to Matjaž’s companion. Marko, Jure and Andraž were presented to Kat like an anthology of the Slovene legal profession.
‘What have you done with Gašper, then?’ Matjaž tried to carve out a civilized conversation. He considered Gašper to be one of these guys, who had never wanted for anything in life and now that they’d gained good jobs – often on the merit of their ambitious fathers – never would.
‘Gašper, Gašper, yeah, his wife doesn’t let him out, mate,’ laughed Jure. ‘You know, ’cos he’s got a . . . Well, a kid of his own now, too. And these days women don’t want to look after kids by themselves any more, they expect the man to be part of that, that, you know, the upbringing and education.’
‘Seriously, unbelievable!’ Kat spoke up, clearly disgusted at this pack of arrogant young guys.
‘Sorry, sorry, love. I didn’t know that we had members of, you know, the other sex among us,’ the new father apologized clumsily.
The circle of drunkards laughed, including Matjaž, for which he was rewarded with a weary expression from Kat.
‘So. How’s work?’ asked Matjaž, trying again to make the conversation more civilized.
‘Mate, it’s work. Work’s good. You know how it is. If you put in this much effort and spend that many years at school, if you work hard every day, then you’ve earned the right to a comfortable life,’ said Marko, summarizing the circle of life.
‘Is that right,’ said Matjaž, not wanting to argue.
Noticing his embarrassment, Kat turned to the new father and asked, ‘What’s your son’s name?’
‘Yeah, not a son, no, I mean, it’s a daughter. Where’d you get that from? What are you on about?’ Jure asked rudely.
‘Oh, sorry – before you were talking about generations and you mentioned a grandson . . .’ replied Kat in an apologetic tone.
‘That was a metaphor,’ said Andraž, coming to his friend’s rescue. Kat was convinced that Andraž had no idea what a metaphor was.
‘I see, for human reproduction in general,’ she remarked ironically, although no one but Matjaž really picked up on it.
‘That’s it. Reproduction. I’ve been trying to think of that word all day. Did you hear that, mate? Reproduction!’ Jure shouted, brandishing his glass. It threatened to spill all over either him or the unsuspecting patrons sat at nearby tables.
‘So what’s the name of this offspring of yours, then? Matjaž persisted, with basic good manners.
‘Offspring – you see, mate, all the beautiful words we have for reproduction,’ said Marko, adding his two cents to the conversation and laughing. The next moment he had dragged his backside over to the riverbank, where he not-so-discreetly emptied the contents of his stomach.
‘Listen, mate, you got anything white?’ Andraž piped up, not showing too much concern for his friend.
‘Sorry?’ asked Matjaž, acting as if he had no idea what Andraž was talking about.
‘Cocaine!’ Kat explained anxiously, rolling her eyes.
‘That’s the one, mate. We’re getting fucked up today! You got anything? Can you sort us out?’ asked Jure.
Matjaž smirked as if to say, of course not, where’d he get the idea that he would know anything about that.
The look on Kat’s face clearly showed her incredulity. ‘What is wrong with you, man? You’ve got a baby at home!’
‘A baby girl,’ Matjaž quietly reminded her, in the hope that he might pacify his partner for the evening.
‘You’ve got a baby girl, and you’re completely off your face, and you want to do coke as well!’ she raged.
‘Psssst,’ Marko dismissed her, returning to the table visibly revived although still shaky.
‘Seriously, though, children are a big deal. You’re a parent now, Jesus – act like a parent!’ Kat said resolutely.
Jure held his head in his hands and came over extremely concerned, serious, full of self-reproach. The grou
p stared at him for a few long seconds, until he straightened himself up, smiled and said, ‘No, I’m gonna be a good dad, but just not today. Today I’m gonna celebrate like a happy kid, so tomorrow I’ll be a good dad. I gained a son today, anything’s allowed!’ He raised his glass.
‘A daughter,’ Andraž corrected him, but Jure was already happily sipping his beer.
Kat sighed irritably and anxiously lit a cigarette. Matjaž gave her a reassuring look and shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘such is life.’ She folded her arms, looked away and huffed angrily.
‘What’s his name, then?’ Matjaž asked Marko, although it seemed that throughout the course of the evening he must’ve found out several times already.
‘You know already, mate. His name is . . . what you always takin’ the piss out me for?’ grinned the father. ‘Her name is Julija. Nice, right? You know the song . . .’ He started to sing the Aleksander Mežek hit. His mates joined in and earned themselves some surprised glances and looks of disgust from the bar’s unsuspecting customers.
Mežek was clearly the straw that broke the camel’s back for Kat, who picked up her handbag and started to leave.
‘What about . . . ?’ Matjaž was confused.
‘No, everything’s fine, I just have to, I have to get out of here,’ she said.
‘Congratulations on Julija,’ she said to Jure, unconvincingly. Then she walked away, not waiting for the slow responses of ‘Ciao love!’
Matjaž stood up and went after her. When they were a far enough distance from the new dad and his colleagues, he asked her, ‘What’s the problem, I thought we . . .’
‘We did, but I can’t stand those kind of situations!’ Kat said, irritated again.
‘Then let’s go somewhere else. They’re not good friends of mine, my friends are totally different . . .’ he started to try and convince her.
She interrupted him. ‘No, after that debacle I can’t. Those people are totally . . . they’re animals.’
‘Your mum’s into that New Age stuff, but I didn’t walk away,’ Matjaž laughed.
‘Yeah, but you can’t really get rid of your mum,’ she smiled sourly.
‘You can’t get rid of your friends either!’ said Matjaž, getting a little cross.
‘If they’re like that you can!’ she exclaimed, pointing towards the table of singing drinkers.
Her superiority started to get on Matjaž’s nerves. ‘Yep, that’s what they’re like, awful. Most people are awful, in case you hadn’t noticed. But at least those idiots don’t mean any harm . . .’
‘What about that child!’ Kat almost shrieked.
Matjaž shook his head. ‘Jeez, everything will be fine with the child – or rather, everything will be wrong, just like it was for all of us. One happy father’s drunken evening doesn’t make him a monster.’
‘Well, anyway. I just don’t think it’s acceptable!’ she persisted.
‘I don’t know, maybe I am too tolerant of people like that who love to party, but in any case your reaction seems a lot worse than their alleged crimes. You’re patronizing, moralizing!’ Matjaž snapped.
‘Sorry, but that’s too much. Perhaps I’m over-sensitive. Well, not perhaps, I am quite sensitive, but it’s hard to accept scenes like that. That blatant sexism, chauvinism – that poor baby! It’s especially difficult to accept you, when I see you among them,’ she sighed, tired and disappointed.
Matjaž sensed that he’d lost Kat for good, but just at that moment in time it didn’t bother him. He looked at her coldly. ‘If you can’t stay with me when I’m with them, there’s nothing I can do to help you. We’ll see what you’re like when you have your first child!’ he said firmly and turned away.
‘That’s it, mate, you’re ours for the evening!’ Marko hugged him when he returned to the table.
‘Well, I’m clearly not hers,’ Matjaž laughed, somewhat bitterly.
‘Oh, dear God, when will this end!’ Karla moaned.
‘It’s not the end of the world, Karla,’ said Matjaž, patting her on the shoulder. They were sitting in one of the ubiquitous Mercator supermarket cafés after some urgent Sunday shopping.
‘Not for you, no, but Kat still hasn’t got over it,’ she said sharply.
‘What am I supposed to do about it? You two hatched this plan, now you’ve got to deal with it,’ Matjaž protested.
‘But mate, what went wrong, really?’ asked Aleksander, who up until this point had seemed indifferent.
‘Everything was great until my mates arrived,’ Matjaž started to explain.
‘Which mates?’
‘Those crazy lawyers, Gasper’s lot, you’ve both met them.’
‘Oof,’ sighed Karla. ‘Then no wonder everything went tits up.’ She lit herself a cigarette.
‘Come on, they’re not that bad,’ Matjaž tried to defend them. ‘Right?’ He looked at Aleksander.
‘You know what, my friend, if you ask me it’s almost like they’re on a different planet,’ he said, siding with his wife.
Matjaž didn’t understand. ‘But why? I don’t see it.’
‘They wear expensive suits but they still can’t choose ties to go with them,’ began Karla in a weary voice, although not without enjoyment in her utter disdain. ‘They buy expensive cars that they can’t drive in the snow. They order expensive dishes that they don’t like, they drink expensive wine just because it’s expensive. They marry blondes just so they can show them off to their friends and business partners. They speak a language that only they understand among themselves. I don’t know how to put it; it often seems as if they don’t have brains, as if they’re programmed in a completely different way.’
‘But they’ve studied, they’re successful lawyers!’ Matjaž protested.
‘Precisely,’ said Aleksander. ‘They’re from another planet!’
RONJA
‘Ah, it’s a work thing, can’t get out of it,’ said Matjaž, talking on the phone while trying to set off. ‘My boss has invited me, I don’t know why,’ he went on. A glance behind, a glance forward, a little more wheel-turning. He’d already been on the phone to Aleksander for at least fifteen minutes, since he’d packed up everything for this unusual trip. ‘Tim Bilding. How should I know? I’ll tell you when I get back.’
Somehow he managed to pull out on to the road. ‘Aleksander, stop. No, I’m not interested!’ he shouted, listening restlessly to his friend. He then remembered that he’d left something essential at home. Naturally, Aleksander was still talking. Matjaž parked up again and closed the door, still on the phone. ‘No, there’s no … Because I just know. I’ve already seen them. No, Urša’s too tall for me … just way too tall. And too healthy … No, you know, veggie, teas, baby carrots, all that cleansing of internal energies, of chi, chakra, gonga, I don’t know. She’s always nurturing her spirituality, while mine, as you know, is stagnating. Walking up the steps, his friend’s persuasion was too much. ‘Gabi, are you crazy? She’s a religious nut … No, not a good-looking Catholic waiting for her first major transgression.’
Aleksander was evolving his theory about the Catholic susceptibility to pleasure as Matjaž unlocked the door, stepped into his flat and glanced around. ‘I don’t know about Liza, I don’t fancy her. Too much of a cynic, it’s all wrong.’ He searched around, walking quickly from one room to another like a headless chicken. ‘No, she’s definitely cute and skinny enough, and all that short black curly hair, but she’s always taking issue with something.’ He still hadn’t found his bag. ‘Gah, stop it now, Sandra’s got a boyfriend … No, I don’t fancy testing how strong that union … Of course she’s cute. Blonde, yes. No, there’ll be no more blondes after Saša … I’m not trying to test out every type of woman here … Obviously you would, but now you’re married someone else has to sample everything for you.’
He finally spotted his camera bag, put it on his shoulder, locked up the flat and quickly ran to his car. ‘Ronja? My friend Ronja? Ronja, who’s just had a baby?’ He un
locked the car. ‘Young mums, you say … their hormones. Yes that’s what I want, maternal hormones. Like I don’t have enough hormones of my own.’ He was driving again now. ‘What is it with you? I’d rather sell my mother into slavery than have to go to Ksenja’s summer house … Yes, I’d rather go out with you than to that hen house … No, Ksenja is not an option … Because she’s my boss … I don’t know, maybe forty … with some rich guy … One child … Not exactly a beauty, but she’s a very well-presented woman, but forget it, you hear me, forget it … I don’t believe she has a sense of humour … Intelligent? Since when has any woman been intelligent? Ha ha ha.’
He was battling against the traffic, which he was finding more difficult to manage than usual thanks to Aleksander’s nagging. ‘Just four other guys,’ he sighed, worn out. ‘Why would I tell you about them, you’re not gay …’ He finally managed to get through the crossing. ‘Why do you want to know the bigger picture? I’m not going to tell you about men whose names I barely know.’ As he drove his answers became increasingly impatient. ‘Yes, Roko’s the one you liked when we went for a beer about a hundred years ago. Yes, hard-working, good guy, quiet. It true, quiet people are like gold dust … Which is why I’d be really grateful if we could leave … I don’t know Aleksander, honestly, I don’t know. Tadej is just an average ambitious young guy who gels his hair … How should I know if he’s gay? Jeez, seriously now, your tongue is going to get me fined … Kristjan … That one would sell his mum, family, girlfriend, basically everything, for the chance of a career … Yeah, he’s quite handsome – why? You’re not normal. No, I’m not going to play guessing games with you about which girl would rather go with him than me … I think that’s it …’ He was driving anxiously now, as once again he was running late. ‘Oh true, you’re right, there’s Andrej too … I have no idea why you know my colleagues better than I do – maybe because you’re crazy? Jesus! Enough! Yes, Andrej is that lunatic programmer who smokes weed and then eats beansprouts. That’s it, yin and yang, that’s his philosophy … No, I don’t know if it works. Try it!’
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