- Calcutta - Auschwitz
autumn sun warmed our backs as we sat down on a bench near the
Hrad. Summer's arms were wrapped around me. "It's so much
like a drug, this thing, this passion." she warned. "I've
been looking for a spiritual man for quite some time," Summer
further declared. "You don't mind that I'm eighteen?"
she cautiously probed. "No!" I decisively exclaimed,
hoping to quell her doubts. "You know, Jim Morrison was such
a lousy poet," Summer muttered. "I mean he didn't know
anything about love." I sat quietly, fully content with the
moment. The tourist hordes trampled past us. "More peacocks,"
Summer announced, alluding to our voyeur friend from Konopiste.
"Look at them. They're afraid something terrible might happen."
What terrible thing could possibly happen on a day like this?
I wondered to myself. Day turned into night, Summer and I had
inspected the underground crypts inside St. Vitus cathedral. The
rooms were dank and musty. This was our dense little home. Havel
was nowhere to be seen. He was probably too busy cleaning up all
the psychic sludge left by the Commies and the Nazis "You
know, it's like Prague's got some kind of mono," Summer quietly
revealed. "It's gonna take awhile for this place to heal."
She was right. The Brown and Red demons had copulated and violated
this beautiful and stagnant city. The vortex was now open again,
and Summer and I were like orphans in the storm. We embraced and
kissed quietly on Kampa island. Summer had let go of all her inhibitions.
Her tight embrace signaled to me her anxiety and excitement. Our
union was forever. We both knew this now. The separation that
was upon us was just that, a physical separation. Our hearts and
minds would always be together regardless of space and time. We
had been tested in Prague and more tests were coming. This was
what marriage was all about. Summer and I were pioneering something
very old, and something very new.
forget me," Summer quietly whispered into my freezing ear.
The loud din of traffic distracted me and enveloped us. This was
IT. The mysterious IT of saints and mystics. Our tongues caressed
softly and quietly in the dark. Summer was in love. This extraordinary
little angel who had mastered Japanese and German at an early
age and was now plowing through Finnegan's Wake was now most certainly
in love. We returned to the apartment. I was rubbing Summer's
ice cold feet, when her boyfriend barged back in. I packed and
left for the train station.
was catching the vortex train to Poland and beyond. I was on a
mission. I nestled back into my seat inside the pitch darkness.
I could see in my mind's eye Summer kissing me one last time at
the door of her apartment. The one she paid the rent for. Her
boyfriend was broke. The train groaned and heaved its way towards
a seemingly and completely unknown destination. That's when I
felt her. Summer was saying one last good-bye. Her face appeared
suddenly in the compartment. It smiled and grew larger and larger.
Yeah, Summer had her ways and she was determined to show them
to me. I felt a gentle warmth filling me and the entire train
compartment. Summer's boyfriend had taken me to the train station
and declared: "If she has sex with anyone, I'LL LEAVE HER!"
I pressed my face against the cold glass of the train window and
began to cry.
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contents of this site © Finberg Books 2000-2004 by Michael Arthur