suddenly, a knock on the doorexcerpt: suddenly, a knock on the door - space air conditioner

by:HICOOL     2021-10-11
suddenly, a knock on the doorexcerpt: suddenly, a knock on the door  -  space air conditioner
Suddenly, a knock on the door, "Tell Me a Story", a bearded man sitting in my life --
Room sofa command.
This is by no means a pleasant situation, I must say.
I am the one who writes the story, not the one who tells the story.
Even this is not what I do as required.
The last time I was told to tell him a story, it was my son.
That was a year ago.
I told him about a fairy and a ferret.
I don't even remember what it was.
He fell asleep in two minutes.
But the situation is completely different.
Because my son has no beard and no pistol.
Because my son is very demanding about the story, and this person just wants to take me away.
I tried to explain to this bearded man that if he put the pistol aside it would only be good for him and good for us.
Point your head with the barrel of a pistol full of bullets and it's hard to come up with a story.
But that guy insisted.
He explained: "In this country, you have to use force if you want something.
"He has just arrived here from Sweden and is completely different in Sweden.
There, you will ask politely if you want anything, and most of the time you will get it.
But this is not the case in the sultry Middle East.
It only takes a week in this place to figure out how things work.
Or rather, how things work.
The Palestinians had a good demand for a state.
Did they find it?
What exactly did they do?
So they began to blow up the children on the bus and people began to listen.
Settlers want dialogue.
Did anyone pick it up? No way.
As a result, they began physical training and poured hot oil on border patrol officers.
In this country, it may be true that it doesn't matter whether it's political, economic or parking.
Violence is the only language we can understand.
In Sweden, this bearded guy made aliya from there, which is progressive and is available in many places.
Sweden is not just ABBA, Ikea or the Nobel Prize.
Sweden is a world in itself, and whatever they have, they get it by peaceful means.
In Sweden, if he goes to the ace of the base soloist, knock on her door and ask her to sing for him, she will ask him to come in and make him a cup of tea.
Then she will take out her acoustic guitar from under the bed and play for him.
It's all with a smile! But here?
I mean, if he doesn't have a pistol on all the time, I'll throw him out right away.
Look, I'm trying to make sense.
"Look for yourself," complained the bearded guy, raising his pistol.
"It's either a story or a bullet between two eyes.
"I think my choice is limited.
This guy is in business.
I began to say, "two people sit in one room . "
"Suddenly, someone knocked at the door.
"The bearded guy is getting hard, and I think maybe the story makes him understand, but that's not the case.
He's listening to something else.
Someone knocked on the door.
"Open it," he told me, "Don't try anything.
Get rid of whoever it is, do it quickly, otherwise the ending will be terrible.
"Young people at the door are doing an investigation.
He has a few questions. Short ones.
About the high humidity here in summer and how it affects my character.
I told him I was not interested, but he pushed in. "Who's that?
"He pointed to the bearded guy and asked me.
I lied and said, "That's my nephew from Sweden . "
"His father died in an avalanche. he came to the funeral.
We are looking at the will.
Will you please respect our privacy and leave?
"Come on, man," said the pollster, patted me on the shoulder.
"It's just a few questions.
Give a person a chance to make a few dollars.
They gave me the salary of each respondent.
He fell on the sofa holding the binder.
The Swede sat next to him.
I'm still standing and trying to sound like I mean.
I told him, "I want you to leave . "
"Your timing is not right. " "Way off, eh?
He opened the plastic binder and took out a big revolver.
"Why don't I clock?
Because I'm black?
Because I'm not good enough?
Speaking of Swedes, you have a lot of time in the world.
But for a Moroccan, for a war veteran who left his broken spleen in Lebanon, you can't fucking spare a minute.
"I tried to reason with him and told him it wasn't at all, he just grabbed me at a delicate moment in my conversation with the Swede.
But the pollsters raised the revolver to their lips and signaled me to shut up.
"Vamos," he said . "
"Don't make excuses.
Sit over there and take it out.
"" What to go out? " I ask.
In fact, I'm nervous now.
The Swede also has a pistol.
Things can get out of control.
East is East, West is West.
Different mentality
Otherwise, the Swede may lose it just because he wants to leave the story to himself. Solo.
"Don't let me start," the pollsters warned . ".
"My fuse is short.
Tell the story.
Let it hurry.
"Yes," the Swede interjected and took out his work.
I cleared my throat and started again.
Three people are sitting in a room.
"No, suddenly, someone knocked on the door," the Swede announced . ".
Pollsters don't quite understand, but play with him.
"Let's go," he said.
"And there was no knock.
Tell us something else. Surprise us.
"I stopped and took a deep breath.
They both stared at me.
How can I always get myself into these situations?
I bet this will never happen to Amos Oz or David Grossman.
Suddenly someone knocked at the door.
Their eyes became dangerous. I shrug.
It's not my problem.
Nothing in my story can relate it to that knock on the door.
"Get rid of him," the pollsters ordered me.
"Whoever it is, get rid of him.
"I just opened a door.
Pizza delivery. "Are you Keret? " he asks.
"Yes," I said, "but I didn't order any pizza.
"It says 14 Zamenhoff Street," he pointed to the printed delivery note and pushed it inside.
"What about that," I said. "I didn't order pizza.
"Family size," he insisted . "
Half pineapple and half anchovy. Prepaid. Credit card.
Tip me, I'm gone.
"Are you here to listen to the story, too ? "
The Swede is questioning. "What story?
The pizza guy asked, but apparently he was lying.
He is not very good at this.
"Pull it out," suggested opinion polls experts . "
"Come on, have gone out with a pistol.
"I don't have a pistol," admitted the pizza man awkwardly, and pulled out a kitchen knife from under his cardboard tray.
"But unless he coughs well, I will cut him into julienne.
Three of them on the sofa.
The Swede on the right, then the pizza guy, and then the pollster.
"I can't do that," I told them . ".
"The three of you are here, your weapons and all of this, and I cannot let a story go on.
Walk around the block and I'll bring you something when you get back.
"Assholes will call the police," pollsters told Swedes . ".
"What was he thinking, we were born yesterday?
"Come on, give us one, and we are on our way," pleaded the pizza man. "A short one.
Don't lose face.
Things are tough, you know.
Unemployment, suicide bombing, Iranians.
People desire something else.
What do you think the law brings?
Law-abiding men like us?
We're desperate, man. we're desperate.
"I cleared my throat and started again.
Four people are sitting in a room. It's hot. They're bored.
The air conditioner is out of order.
One of them asked for a story.
Join the second and the third. . .
"This is not a story," protest pollsters . "
This is a witness report.
This is what is happening here now.
It is what we want to escape.
Don't you dump reality on us like a garbage truck?
Use your imagination, human beings, creation, invention, and go all the way.
"I nodded and started over.
"Sitting alone in the room. He's lonely. He's a writer.
He wants to write a story.
It's been a long time since he wrote the last story, and he missed it.
He misses the feeling of being created from something. That's right —
Out of something.
Because when you make something out of thin air, nothing, in this case, it has no value.
Anyone can do that.
But something unusual means it's always in your heart and you find it part of something new that never happened before.
The man decided to write a story about the situation.
It is not a political situation or a social situation.
He decided to write a story about the human condition.
The human condition he is experiencing now.
But he drew a blank.
There is no story.
Because the human condition he is experiencing now doesn't seem worth a story, when he suddenly gives up. . .
"I have warned you," interrupted the Swede.
"Don't knock.
"I have to do this," I insisted . "
"There is no story without knocking on the door.
"Let him come," said the pizza man softly.
"Let him relax.
Do you want to knock?
Okay, knock on the door.
As long as it brings us a story.
"All of a sudden, Etgar Keret knocked at the door.
Etgar Keret Copyright 2011.
Miriam Shlesinger was translated from Hebrew.
English translation copyright of Etgar Keret 2011.
Excerpts are licensed by Farrar, strus and Giroux LLC.
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