About a certain return

Part 14

Was he talking to me? I came back, I was in Melissa's office, the secretary, and the publishing of one of my stories had just been confirmed.

– You're good. Very good...

A story about the children of the woods. What did I know about the woodmen? But who knew anything? Humans that survived in trees... It was thought they are uncontrolled, but they were counted too. I invented something.... I gathered some trumpery, combined it, tidy up a bit, and... It was a fiction.

– Thank you.

– Whenever you have something to publish, come over!

I thanked him again. I'm intimidated by people like him. He and Augustin, what characters, what mugs, would have said Marcel! I bought the magazine "The People's Culture" to see my story in it. "Oh, look what a face they made me!" I read the story again. I was expected anything extra. Some reference, a code, a key... What key?

– What kind of "dead beauty" is "the cult" referring to, what is all about...? Do you happen to know? I asked Marcel, when meeting him again.

– Have you still got those paper backs?

– I think so. What happened?

– Cristache is upset. He said he was still undetermined in what concerned you.

– What do you smoke?

– The... ghouls' grass...

– Oh!

– Can you smell it?

– It stinks. You'll end up in jail if you light this hemp. And me to, if I sit next to you.

– So! To hell, with them all! What do they care! It's a freak of the Great Judges that restrict all our freedom. Do you want a joint?

– No, I must deliver some parcels and I don't want them to go astray. I might get the sack and up, with my family, in dire straits.

– Vanda... How's the little one?

– You wouldn't want to know what she says about you. She's is my curse, why should it extend on you as well? It would be of no use to you.

– Really? What? I mean, what could she say? All right... Pop in, to Augustin, it would be fair. With another bottle... his reward. At seven, roughly, I'll be waiting for you at "Carutza", in the city centre. Let's relax our senses with a cocktail Bar...

Shit, I pay a dear price for my success! My arrival lift Augustin's mood. I couldn't refuse his invitation to clink glasses for my literary success. Even Mitrey took notice of me and started to fly his tail right under my nose and rub against my coat's sleeve. I offer to a hating cats person a very affectionate tomcat, one year old, ginger, lovely, castrated... Soon after I got dizzy and pluck up courage. I only dreaded not to unveil to the maestro any weakness in my general culture. It should look very solid. Concrete like... granite like. That's it! We all want... I shouldn't use the plural... wants... to seem what we are not. Viriles. Erudites. Scientists. Immortals.

Augustin wrote for me an introduction, he presented me in a note upstairs my tale.

– Did you like what I wrote?

He considered me similar to the notorious writers... What shall I say? It was a stupid story!

– If you want to be successful you need to start with a novel, not a story book. A small one of about 100 pages. I tell you: it works. If I'll be in the evaluation committee... Don't mind them, they will swallow anything.