Jela Krecic

by None Like Her (retail) (epub)

  ‘Sshh!’ the priest started to calm her. ‘Being overly found is not always good, either. I know what will open our young friend’s heart,’ he smiled.

  Matjaž was already guessing how he’d be participating in the recital of some carefully chosen psalms, but the priest took him by surprise once again. This time he placed a bottle on the table that Matjaž could have sworn contained ‘the water of life’, as the French so dramatically call it.

  ‘Is it homemade?’

  ‘Of course, Franci makes it and Franci makes it well,’ the priest laughed, while Gabi’s eyes bulged at the sight.

  Matjaž quickly emptied the glass that was offered to him and nodded. ‘Make that Franci a saint!’

  Over spirits, debates concerning the holy realm were abandoned and they descended into more human and carnal matters, as they are sometimes called.

  ‘What about you, Father, don’t you ever think about sex?’ Matjaž enquired, smiling.

  Gabi let out an almost entirely silent scream. Without looking at her, the priest replied, ‘What’s it to you? The only relevant question is whether I carry out my work well, whether I’m at the height of my spiritual and parochial calling.’

  ‘Right at the top, Father, you are fantastic …’ Gabi could not praise her priest enough.

  He, on the other hand, looked at her angrily and blurted, ‘Silence!’

  Matjaž bowed his head remorsefully, and for a few seconds they sat in silence. ‘Well, at least in your mission you’re spared the scramble for love,’ he threw in cautiously.

  ‘Well, tell us then, how has love got one over on you?’ The priest looked at him sympathetically.

  ‘Oh, you don’t want to know. It’s a long, long story …’ Matjaž sighed.

  The priest looked at him indifferently, shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘As you wish!’ This encouraged Matjaž to start talking. At first he recounted at length and in great detail everything about Sara: her curls, her smile, how she appeared taller than she actually was, and how she playfully ascribed this to her grand personality. Then he progressed on to their relationship: all the years of love that had been cosy and exciting at the same time, and how the two of them had constructed their own world. Then he had to recount how everything had ended, how it had completely broken him and for a long time he had not known how to go on.

  ‘And how did you move forwards in the end?’ the priest enquired.

  ‘Through other women,’ Matjaž said pointedly. He noticed the priest’s face, which remained unchanged. ‘Interesting. And how did that idea work out?’

  ‘Well, this is where the devil comes into it,’ Matjaž said, almost adopting the priest’s diction and making himself comfortable in the chair. ‘First I met Saša, who was pretty and rather stupid. We were only capable of talking about the weather. She left me immediately, probably because I asked her to marry me.’

  ‘How long had you been together?’

  ‘One night,’ he explained.

  ‘You didn’t waste any time,’ the priest smiled.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Matjaž shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘And how long did it last?’ asked the priest with a slightly cynical undertone.

  ‘Until the morning.’

  ‘Just a few hours?’ The answer had rather surprised God’s unconventional messenger.

  ‘Things always look different in the morning,’ Matjaž explained.

  The priest nodded, as if he understood. ‘What happened next?’

  ‘I called off the wedding and she left.’

  ‘And the matter ended there?’ the priest asked.

  ‘Mostly, yes. We saw each other at a New Year’s Eve party and we talked about love.’ The priest remained patiently silent, and Matjaž went on. ‘Yeah, we just talked. She was actually tied up with some guy who didn’t know how to appreciate her. It didn’t seem right to me.’

  ‘Of course it’s not right, she’s a human being!’ Gabi piped up. The priest merely glanced seriously in her direction, making her bow her head submissively.

  ‘So I comforted Saša a bit and did something to make that moron of a boyfriend take notice of her again,’ Matjaž concluded. ‘But after that came the second and third and fourth …’

  The priest sighed inaudibly, while his guest carried on openly, ‘Then I found Brigita in Žale Cemetery – she was utterly refreshing. A pretty redhead, covered in piercings and full of obscenities. Oops!’ he said, looking at the priest warily, as if the word ‘obscenity’ was obscene in itself. But the priest’s calm expression consoled him and he went on. ‘So, she was an attractive goth, and a Marxist to boot. Maybe you’re, well, relaxed enough now to find this amusing: she went to study economics in order to gain an inside perspective on the problems of the system.’

  Matjaž laughed and looked at the priest searchingly, but the priest only sighed wearily. ‘Oh dear, have you never heard about liberation theology, the movement within the Church that was based on Marx’s writings?’ The guest became awkward and nodded at Father Simon, who fell silent again.

  ‘I invested quite a lot in Brigita,’ Matjaž continued. ‘Maybe most of all. It took quite a few dates, a lot of words, many romantic destinations and a lot of alcohol – not to mention my wounded feelings – for her to eventually come home with me.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘When I started to undress her, she said that it tickled.’

  ‘How?’ the priest expressed surprise.

  ‘I don’t know how. It was the first time I’d heard that, too, that my touch made somebody ticklish. Then she said it was because she was a lesbian.’

  ‘Obviously,’ the priest remarked, as if this happened every day.

  ‘Hang on a minute – what do you mean by “obviously?”’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that you’d ascribe to me the power of turning women into lesbians? Because this is the only instance of the sort, I can assure you,’ Matjaž said, slightly irritated.

  ‘I suggested nothing; you suggested it. Let’s leave it there.’

  Matjaž looked at him suspiciously and decided there was some truth in his words. Once again he resumed his story. ‘Then there was New Year’s Eve – the same New Year’s celebration that I was telling you about, when I ran into Saša, the blonde. So, there I had an intimate meeting of the third degree with Katja, my friend of many years, who was planning our wedding in the event that we both remain single.’

  ‘Aha, but you don’t have feelings for her?’

  ‘No, gross!’ Matjaž winced.

  ‘But that wasn’t all?’

  ‘No. At first she wanted to change me; she said that my rudeness, my sarcasm, was problematic.’

  ‘Is it not?’ the priest asked.

  ‘Maybe it is, but no one is forced to hang around in my vicinity. And that time I tried, Father, I really did. At some points she actually cried, because she felt alone and ugly and completely useless. I tried to comfort her and then I danced with her to make her smile again.’

  Matjaž was checking the priest’s expression to see whether he had grasped how good-hearted he had been, and when he didn’t feel any particular approval he proceeded cautiously, ‘There was also some girl, Maria, there, too, a really good-looking, alluring girl – ginger hair, if you can picture it – who pretended that I was a guy called Zoki. I think that was her way trying to seduce me, but it didn’t work.’

  ‘Her neither?’

  ‘No, she was far too … I really don’t want to waste words on her, her arrogant stories were exhausting.’

  The priest simply nodded patiently.

  ‘So, at the end of the evening I almost got some,’ said Matjaž, skipping through events a little.

  ‘Got what?’

  ‘Well, sex.’

  ‘With whom?’

  ‘With Suzana.’

  ‘And who’s Suzana?’

  ‘A long-term friend, whose house we were partying at.’

  ‘And?’
r />   ‘Everything was going smoothly, a bit of dancing, some touching and kissing – you can imagine, or maybe you can’t – and then she …’ Matjaž stopped himself.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Ha, well there’s no nice way of saying this,’ Matjaž hesitated.

  This roused the priest’s curiosity. ‘Go on, be brave and spit it out! God is merciful.’

  ‘Then she fell asleep during sex,’ he admitted repentantly.

  The priest burst out laughing at the top of his voice and said, still laughing, ‘She’s one of ours!’

  Matjaž looked at him reproachfully and concluded seriously, ‘Thankfully she doesn’t remember it.’

  ‘That she fell asleep during sex?’ The priest calmed down slightly and wiped away the tears that the laughter had brought to his eyes.

  ‘No, that anything happened between us at all.’

  ‘Or she’s just being polite,’ the priest said, still grinning.

  ‘Thank you, Father. I would expect a little more understanding from you,’ Matjaž said, pretending to be disappointed.

  The priest didn’t pay any heed to that remark, and so the unlucky lover began once again, ‘Then followed Stela … or, however I ought to put it …’

  ‘I don’t follow; speak more clearly,’ the priest demanded, becoming serious.

  ‘Ah, I once went astray after a rather intensive evening, if you know what I mean,’ he said, pointing to the shot glass of herbal liquor. ‘At Tiffany in Metelkova, you know, where the gays and transvestites hang out – although not exclusively those types. There are also normal people like you and me there, too.’

  The priest smirked. ‘And?’

  ‘I was fairly inebriated and I hadn’t exactly realized where I was. A girl with heavenly legs and a beaming smile caught my eye. We started chatting and she was, well, very flirtatious, but gentle, understanding … At some point, when the kisses became rather too hot, I invited her back to mine. That’s how it usually goes, or at least on those kind of nights,’ Matjaž continued.

  ‘And?’ The priest was all the more curious.

  ‘Well, while we were – you know …’

  ‘Something was missing once again?’ asked the somewhat impatient priest, stepping in.

  ‘Not exactly. I’d say it was more that there was too much of something.’ Matjaž cleared his throat. ‘I made an unexpected discovery.’

  ‘What kind of discovery?’ Matjaž had succeeded in intriguing the priest.

  ‘Yeah, the Crying Game kind’ Matjaž confirmed.

  ‘No!’ the priest exclaimed, while Gabi didn’t entirely understand what Matjaž was saying, and looked between the two of them, bewildered. The priest was not going to let himself be disturbed by explaining anything to that nuisance, and he continued, ‘Well, how did it all end?’

  ‘Very well, I venture to say,’ Matjaž continued. As he saw the priest’s questioning expression he quickly answered, ‘No, nothing like that, nothing kinky, no hanky-panky …’

  Gabi was becoming increasingly pale during this conversation. The priest merely nodded understandingly, and Matjaž went on. ‘After the awkward discovery and all the embarrassment that followed – because all along she obviously thought that I knew what kind of woman she was – we watched an episode of Seinfeld. Do you know it? It’s that sitcom about nothing …’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ the priest said, gesturing with his hand.

  ‘Of course,’ said Matjaž, reigning himself in. ‘So after that we fell asleep – but that’s all – and in the morning she gave me a lovely surprise.’

  ‘With what?’ the priest asked, preparing himself for another shock.

  ‘While I was still asleep she went to the shop, prepared breakfast, bought the Saturday papers and everything. We had breakfast together and read the papers, then we said a friendly goodbye and that was it.’

  ‘It doesn’t get better than that!’ the priest concluded.

  ‘Sorry?’ Matjaž was confused.

  ‘Nothing, it just seems that of all the women you’ve listed so far Stela seems like one of the nicest,’ the priest remarked wisely.

  ‘It’s true, maybe the nicest I’ve ever met,’ Matjaž agreed pensively. Upon hearing this, Gabi appeared rather upset.

  ‘But the story doesn’t end there, I imagine,’ the priest said, not showing any sign of tiring. He poured himself another dose of the strong stuff; he had a feeling he was going to need it.

  ‘Where does it end?’ exclaimed Matjaž. Laughing, he continued, ‘Back in spring I met a girl by the name of Mini at Metelkova. I disliked her right from the start, even though I thought she was attractive. And of course everything went wrong. I offended her immediately; I don’t remember exactly how or why. I just know that she got right on my nerves because she was so self-righteous, so politically correct, so by-the-book – like this one here,’ he said, nodding towards Gabi, who at this point hadn’t twigged that this was not the most Christian of observations.

  The priest calmly overlooked the insult.

  ‘I thought that would be enough’, Matjaž said, ‘but it wasn’t. She really liked me and wanted to go out with me.’

  ‘In that sense, women are always surprising,’ the priest commented.

  ‘What!’ Gabi lost her temper. ‘That is just …’

  ‘Calm down, my child, and listen – you might learn something,’ the priest said, patting her on the shoulder without turning to look at her.

  ‘So, my motto is that it’s not all about personality and intelligence, but that sometimes you have to give appearances a chance. Which is why I took her out for lunch.’

  ‘And how was that?’

  ‘Really good, we went to a Spanish restaurant where they do fantastic meat …’

  ‘Not the food. How did the date go?’ the priest interrupted, a little impatient once again.

  ‘A good question. Awful, obviously. She was talking about horoscopes and the Jolie-Pitt wedding and recycling, and it ruined everything. She seemed even more stupid than the first time I met her, and I couldn’t go through with it.’

  ‘So, go on …’ the priest said, wanting details.

  ‘I don’t know any more than that, really. To be very brief – I pretended to be straight with her, saying it was me and not her, that women who put off marriage and children into their thirties because of their endeavours for peace just don’t do it for me.’

  ‘And you didn’t see her again?’

  Matjaž shook his head.

  ‘So, onwards we go,’ the priest encouraged him.

  ‘Let me think, spring, spring. Yes, of course, then I went to Jajce for Tito’s birthday.’ He paused long enough to light a cigarette and then returned to Jajce. ‘Ah, how to put this? There were around thirty of us on the bus, half of whom were middle-aged married couples, and the rest of us were unburdened single men or women. So it was quite an interesting dynamic, but there were two in particular who received almost all the male attention: Melita, a stunning sixteen-year-old with a lively nature and her mum, Nada, a very well-maintained and tenacious woman in her forties who was – even more importantly – recently divorced. One evening, while we were singing and dancing, Melita and I ended up alone. We got chatting and had a bit to drink, which brought us close enough together for us to, well, you know …’

  ‘With a sixteen-year-old? That’s not even …’ Gabi was alarmed.

  Once again the priest gave her a scolding look. ‘Oh, don’t be such a purist. Anyone could say – and this observation would not be entirely negligible – that priests pick them even younger!’ Gabi bit her tongue and could barely catch her breath, but neither of the men took too much notice of her.

  ‘It was bittersweet, as always,’ Matjaž told the priest. ‘As soon as she had me, she rejected me and started trying to win over another guy. She had us all, she put a spell on us all.’

  ‘And how did you hang on until the end of the trip?’

  ‘With her mum.’

 
‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Yeah, her mum, Nada, as I said, was very approachable following her divorce; extremely at ease, and very, very attractive to the male sex. Similar to her daughter, but in a slightly more mature way.’

  ‘But?’ the priest calmly asked.

  ‘But what?’

  ‘I feel there’s a “but” here, too,’ he replied.

  ‘You know me so well, Father!’ said Matjaž without irony. ‘There really was a “but”. She also forgot about me after she’d seduced me. It’s true that we set off home the next day, so obviously circumstances immediately got in the way, but … that “but” still remains.’ He fell silent for a while so that he could wet his lips with his stiff drink.

  The priest made the most of this moment, going in for a slightly analytical question. ‘Have you ever thought to yourself that you may not be the most talented lover?’

  ‘Of course I have, but I’m afraid that’s no excuse for their behaviour, either of them.’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t just thinking about those two,’ the priest said, to himself more than anything, and exhaled.

  Matjaž listened to him attentively and added delicately, ‘With those two it was about attention, and that attention was never going to be enough; they had to be desired, they had to be loved by men, by all men … at least that’s my interpretation.’

  ‘Were there any others after that?’

  Matjaž looked at him in disbelief from under his eyebrows. ‘You ought to know by now how these things go.’ The priest was starting to understand the true meaning of eternity. He leaned in to listen. ‘One evening I arranged to meet my friends for a drink, but instead they set me up with this Kat.’

  ‘A cat?’

  ‘A girl called Kat.’

  ‘Ah, I see,’ the priest said apologetically.

  ‘The evening started out like a dream, we got on so well, had a similar sense of humour, had similar tastes and attitudes towards the world. Everything was going great: her smile full of slightly crooked teeth; her long, delicate fingers; her matter-of-fact outlook on life – you wouldn’t believe how rare the quality of worldliness is – all until my lawyer friends showed up. They were awful. Jure had just had a baby.’