the facade
11-02-2011, 09:14 AM
Here's the first part of a short story I've been working on.
Any comment is warmly welcomed.
Andrej
1.
From within the mind, the same mind which sparked his mouth to below out commands and organize the maelstrom of continuously flowing tasks into a neat delta, came now another spark which made him stop all he was doing. Andrej looked over his kingdom.
He looked at Sergey's chopping, hacking, and slashing of vegetables. He turned his neck and observed Yuri's scrubbing, washing and drying of the dirty pots and pans. The hypnotic dance performed above the steaming hot water had led Yuri into other dimensions. Yuri's eyes - unlike Sergey's which shone of a concentration that did not budge -were like deep wells, echoing an obscured pit. Andrej recognized that feeling and even now, long since his dishwashing days, he would often find his body operating blindly in the fog of instinct. Then, the fog would dissolve - like now.
He chuckled to himself - he was being poetic.
Svetlana, near the oven, was putting the crust on a swarm of apple pies.
"Sveta, Sergey, Andrey – is everyone doing ok?"
The various noises of the kitchen kept a steady beat on his ear drum.
"All is fine, boss".
"Good, let me know if something comes up. I'm gonna do a round".
Andrej shoved the kitchen door open, the thumping noises of the kitchen melted into harmonious music. There were people talking, accentuating the importance of their words with hand gestures. They all sat in the limelight of their own movies under warm light fixtures mounted above their heads, playing out their own scenes. Like in the cinema hall - no one paid much attention to the steam room that fueled the haze. Once, when smoking had still been allowed here and other public places, the smoke had clung to them with a creamy filter which had given them the façade of immortality that only movie stars owned and relished in. They did drink more coffee now though.
There sat Ludviga and Tamara, begging the young waiter to remove the plate housing what was left of the devoured corpse of an éclair. They could not have another look at that monstrosity which yanked them back every Saturday under its spell, they told him. The waiter cleared the table of the plates with a smile of courtesy, placing clean teaspoons for the next round of desserts.
"Hey Andrej!" came a voice that chimed a bell in his head.
"Vlad, old fellow". He turned his head to Isabelle, working the counter, while continuing his stride, away from Vladimir.
"Isabelle, don't tell me our friend Vlad hasn't been treated to some of our famous apple pie". Isabelle's lips twanged into a crooked smile. She hunched over and removed a piece of the apple pie from the display window.
"And get Vlad a cup of freshly brewed coffee - cream and two teaspoons of sugar. Thanks Isabelle".
"You are too kind Andrej", Vladimir shouted behind him.
"What are friends for if not to be kind to?".
"You spoil us Andrej".
It had been a long process to decorate the café. The temptation of using the local designs had been large. After all, the café was situated in the most throbbing district in Stockholm and the customer base had needed to be satisfied. When he had bought the premises, over twenty years ago, his wife had provided many ideas for the design. In the end they had decided on something that felt homely, but also like home – a place reached by crossing many boarders on the journey. The couches were deep and the customers sunk into the café's quagmire instantly. He liked that, he thought to himself as he looked over at his wife who was chatting to a friend. Taking a break now, she was sitting as if enveloped by the chair, the café and all those moments that had led up to this one. The tables were of a fine wood. The light shone of warm colors - nothing like the sterile look that the big franchises spared carelessly. Plastic, just plastic.
He spotted an elderly couple that had recently taken a liking to his café, a Swedish couple, long after retirement.
"How are you my dears today?"
"Very fine, thank you"
"Are you enjoying everything?"
"Yes, it is very pleasant." He man said and looked away.
"Indeed, I try dragging my husband for some strolls around the city, it is so important in our age, but he always insists on coming here for coffee", his wife said.
"Oh, you like our coffee?"
"Yes", the man grunted.
"So just let me know when you want a refill and I will arrange it for you".
The elderly man tried to maintain his composure.
"Why thank you sir. It so nice to escape the rain and the cold outside for a cup of coffee and a warm pastry", the man said.
"One of the few reliefs from Swedish winter", Andrej said while suppressing a smile. "Enjoy".
Andrej stepped outside. He withdrew a cigarette pack from his pocket, lit one with a gilded lighter and started puffing. The exhaled smoke started towards a group of shoppers but was scattered by the wind. People passed him by and the muffled stirrings of his restaurant with shopping bags provided from one of the many designer shops which the street housed. They walked with their shoulders slightly slouched over, as if this posture fought off the cold. But despite the teeth-gritting cold, they laughed heartily. The snow had settled, leaving a sparkling veneer on the domes of the turrets marking either side of the two bridges which had been extended over the street and its strolling people. His eyes set on a face within the crowd and repelled his attempts at veering away. It struck him that the young man's face aligned with a memory, from a long time ago, and before he realized what he was doing he shouted out "Adam!".
The young man continued walking as if his senses had grown numb. Andrej felt a force within him take control – it was absolutely necessary to speak to the boy.
"Adam!", he shouted again as he suddenly realized that his legs had miraculously rushed to close the distance between the two.
Adam turned around slowly and his face suffered the collapse of the universe he had been in. Despite being glued to the same spot, Adam appeared to be struggling to get away.
"Wow Adam, it's been such a long time".
"Hello…?", the boy's eyes twitched, right and left, as if searching for the name belonging to the face. But when Adam finally asked "Andrej?", the other felt sure that Adam had recognized him straight away.
"It must have been four, five years since I last saw you and your parents. You've grown so much".
"I must have", Adam said while scratching something in his head. Letting his eyes drop to the ground, he added "I guess".
"Well, I like the final result".
Andrej placed his large, hairy paw on Adam's shoulder and was able to fit it all in.
"Why won't you come in for a bit? I'll treat you to a warm meal".
"No". "Thank you". "I really should be on my way".
Andrej took a step closer to Adam and searched for his eyes which were smashing against his eye sockets like pinballs. When they finally made contact, he said:
"Listen, you're parents would be really upset with me if they heard that I saw you here and didn't take you in. At least for a cup of coffee".
"I guess I could pop in. For a little while".
"A little while is good enough for me. You know your mother, she would chase me with a broom around all of Stockholm otherwise".
A smile penetrated through the armor that Adam had forged to his face and Andrej couldn't help but feel touched by a smile so sincere. As they walked back to the restaurant together, Adam lingered behind and his face betrayed a deep concentration to steer away from people.
They entered the restaurant. The damp heated air flung itself to Andrej's face like a warm blanket. He looked over at Adam standing behind him by the doors and breathing slowly, appreciative of the heat. Only then did he notice that Adam, like him, hadn't been wearing a coat. A hoodie reluctantly rested on his shoulders and a scarf vainly around his neck.
He found a place for him close to the heater and motioned for him to sit down.
"Make yourself at home. This was your parents' favorite spot and now it has been passed down to you".
Adam sat himself down, unmoved by the honor, and began unwinding the scarf around his neck.
"I'll be back soon with something warm". He started for the kitchen but with a whim turned his body around and shouted "It's good seeing you Adam".
He spotted his wife, Miriam, standing by the cashier. She locked her eyes with his, raised her hand to gesture she had something important to tell him and walked up to him. "Yuri's feeling kind of sick, he's in the bathroom throwing up. We're all out of almond croissants and pea soup, which I will go and prepare now. Go talk to Yuri".
"Listen Miriam, something has come up. Can you please take care of Yuri".
"I'm not sure I can, there are lots of things to do".
"I know. I'm really sorry, it's very important".
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I think. Let me tell you later".
"Ok, I'll ask Sveta to make the soup".
With a quick stride he headed for the kitchen. He cut a large piece of lasagna, placed it in the microwave, cut up some vegetables and brewed a new batch of coffee. He crouched down, opened a cupboard, withdrew a bottle of vodka, took a quick swig, then headed back inside with the items.
Adam had removed a pair of woolen gloves and his eyes peeked out over the cold fingers on which he was blowing. When he noticed Andrej approaching he let his hands slide down under the table. Andrej placed the plate with the lasagna and salad and the coffee on the table. Adam took a sip out of the coffee and let it run down his body.
"So Adam, tell me, where are you and your parents staying? I cannot believe that they are here without having called me."
Adam looked up from the plate.
"My parents aren't here. They're back in England. I'm here on my own".
"I see. I forget Adam, how old are you these days?"
"I'm eighteen".
"Oh wow. Here in the restaurant I take things one day at a time. Sometimes I forget that the world keeps on turning on the outside and now you are eighteen years old. Unbelieavable".
Andrej noticed that the fork still lay unused on the table and that Adam was stealing peeks at the food.
"Well what are you waiting for? It's good! I promise!"
Adam's fingers crept away from him and raised the fork slowly, as if not disturb it, and then dipped deep into the lasagna, crushing the golden coating of cheese.
"Eighteen is a great age huh?"
"It's got its perks".
"It definitely does if you have a lady friend".
"Yeah".
"My kids have all left the nest. Alex is studying medicine in Italy and Petra is in Paris, working in fashion".
"That's nice".
"So, tell me what's new with your parents?".
"Nothing. They're working".
Andrej nodded. The notion that the lasagna was already half-way finished crept into his head.
"So what are you doing back in Sweden?"
"I have enrolled at the university here".
"That's great! What are you going to be studying?"
Adam looked up from his food.
"Finance", he answered tentatively.
"That will open up a lot of doors".
Content with the response, Adam shifted back to the lasagna with deep concentration. They sat in silence until Adam had emptied the plate. Adam leaned back on his chair. A glint suddenly caught his eye as if suddenly remembering where he was.
"I must go now".
"Yes, I'm sure you have a lot to take care off with the move".
"I do. Thank you for the meal".
Andrej was about to answer but set of words seemed to have been tied to Adam's tongue and were longing to taste the air of freedom.
"And thank you for your hospitality".
"No need to thank me. We're practically family. Just promise me you'll come and visit tomorrow as well. Tomorrow's special will blow your mind".
Adam started from his chair. He shook Andrej's hand awkwardly, as if his hand was trying to fit into a glove much too large. Then he was out, enveloped by the cold of the Swedish winter.
Any comment is warmly welcomed.
Andrej
1.
From within the mind, the same mind which sparked his mouth to below out commands and organize the maelstrom of continuously flowing tasks into a neat delta, came now another spark which made him stop all he was doing. Andrej looked over his kingdom.
He looked at Sergey's chopping, hacking, and slashing of vegetables. He turned his neck and observed Yuri's scrubbing, washing and drying of the dirty pots and pans. The hypnotic dance performed above the steaming hot water had led Yuri into other dimensions. Yuri's eyes - unlike Sergey's which shone of a concentration that did not budge -were like deep wells, echoing an obscured pit. Andrej recognized that feeling and even now, long since his dishwashing days, he would often find his body operating blindly in the fog of instinct. Then, the fog would dissolve - like now.
He chuckled to himself - he was being poetic.
Svetlana, near the oven, was putting the crust on a swarm of apple pies.
"Sveta, Sergey, Andrey – is everyone doing ok?"
The various noises of the kitchen kept a steady beat on his ear drum.
"All is fine, boss".
"Good, let me know if something comes up. I'm gonna do a round".
Andrej shoved the kitchen door open, the thumping noises of the kitchen melted into harmonious music. There were people talking, accentuating the importance of their words with hand gestures. They all sat in the limelight of their own movies under warm light fixtures mounted above their heads, playing out their own scenes. Like in the cinema hall - no one paid much attention to the steam room that fueled the haze. Once, when smoking had still been allowed here and other public places, the smoke had clung to them with a creamy filter which had given them the façade of immortality that only movie stars owned and relished in. They did drink more coffee now though.
There sat Ludviga and Tamara, begging the young waiter to remove the plate housing what was left of the devoured corpse of an éclair. They could not have another look at that monstrosity which yanked them back every Saturday under its spell, they told him. The waiter cleared the table of the plates with a smile of courtesy, placing clean teaspoons for the next round of desserts.
"Hey Andrej!" came a voice that chimed a bell in his head.
"Vlad, old fellow". He turned his head to Isabelle, working the counter, while continuing his stride, away from Vladimir.
"Isabelle, don't tell me our friend Vlad hasn't been treated to some of our famous apple pie". Isabelle's lips twanged into a crooked smile. She hunched over and removed a piece of the apple pie from the display window.
"And get Vlad a cup of freshly brewed coffee - cream and two teaspoons of sugar. Thanks Isabelle".
"You are too kind Andrej", Vladimir shouted behind him.
"What are friends for if not to be kind to?".
"You spoil us Andrej".
It had been a long process to decorate the café. The temptation of using the local designs had been large. After all, the café was situated in the most throbbing district in Stockholm and the customer base had needed to be satisfied. When he had bought the premises, over twenty years ago, his wife had provided many ideas for the design. In the end they had decided on something that felt homely, but also like home – a place reached by crossing many boarders on the journey. The couches were deep and the customers sunk into the café's quagmire instantly. He liked that, he thought to himself as he looked over at his wife who was chatting to a friend. Taking a break now, she was sitting as if enveloped by the chair, the café and all those moments that had led up to this one. The tables were of a fine wood. The light shone of warm colors - nothing like the sterile look that the big franchises spared carelessly. Plastic, just plastic.
He spotted an elderly couple that had recently taken a liking to his café, a Swedish couple, long after retirement.
"How are you my dears today?"
"Very fine, thank you"
"Are you enjoying everything?"
"Yes, it is very pleasant." He man said and looked away.
"Indeed, I try dragging my husband for some strolls around the city, it is so important in our age, but he always insists on coming here for coffee", his wife said.
"Oh, you like our coffee?"
"Yes", the man grunted.
"So just let me know when you want a refill and I will arrange it for you".
The elderly man tried to maintain his composure.
"Why thank you sir. It so nice to escape the rain and the cold outside for a cup of coffee and a warm pastry", the man said.
"One of the few reliefs from Swedish winter", Andrej said while suppressing a smile. "Enjoy".
Andrej stepped outside. He withdrew a cigarette pack from his pocket, lit one with a gilded lighter and started puffing. The exhaled smoke started towards a group of shoppers but was scattered by the wind. People passed him by and the muffled stirrings of his restaurant with shopping bags provided from one of the many designer shops which the street housed. They walked with their shoulders slightly slouched over, as if this posture fought off the cold. But despite the teeth-gritting cold, they laughed heartily. The snow had settled, leaving a sparkling veneer on the domes of the turrets marking either side of the two bridges which had been extended over the street and its strolling people. His eyes set on a face within the crowd and repelled his attempts at veering away. It struck him that the young man's face aligned with a memory, from a long time ago, and before he realized what he was doing he shouted out "Adam!".
The young man continued walking as if his senses had grown numb. Andrej felt a force within him take control – it was absolutely necessary to speak to the boy.
"Adam!", he shouted again as he suddenly realized that his legs had miraculously rushed to close the distance between the two.
Adam turned around slowly and his face suffered the collapse of the universe he had been in. Despite being glued to the same spot, Adam appeared to be struggling to get away.
"Wow Adam, it's been such a long time".
"Hello…?", the boy's eyes twitched, right and left, as if searching for the name belonging to the face. But when Adam finally asked "Andrej?", the other felt sure that Adam had recognized him straight away.
"It must have been four, five years since I last saw you and your parents. You've grown so much".
"I must have", Adam said while scratching something in his head. Letting his eyes drop to the ground, he added "I guess".
"Well, I like the final result".
Andrej placed his large, hairy paw on Adam's shoulder and was able to fit it all in.
"Why won't you come in for a bit? I'll treat you to a warm meal".
"No". "Thank you". "I really should be on my way".
Andrej took a step closer to Adam and searched for his eyes which were smashing against his eye sockets like pinballs. When they finally made contact, he said:
"Listen, you're parents would be really upset with me if they heard that I saw you here and didn't take you in. At least for a cup of coffee".
"I guess I could pop in. For a little while".
"A little while is good enough for me. You know your mother, she would chase me with a broom around all of Stockholm otherwise".
A smile penetrated through the armor that Adam had forged to his face and Andrej couldn't help but feel touched by a smile so sincere. As they walked back to the restaurant together, Adam lingered behind and his face betrayed a deep concentration to steer away from people.
They entered the restaurant. The damp heated air flung itself to Andrej's face like a warm blanket. He looked over at Adam standing behind him by the doors and breathing slowly, appreciative of the heat. Only then did he notice that Adam, like him, hadn't been wearing a coat. A hoodie reluctantly rested on his shoulders and a scarf vainly around his neck.
He found a place for him close to the heater and motioned for him to sit down.
"Make yourself at home. This was your parents' favorite spot and now it has been passed down to you".
Adam sat himself down, unmoved by the honor, and began unwinding the scarf around his neck.
"I'll be back soon with something warm". He started for the kitchen but with a whim turned his body around and shouted "It's good seeing you Adam".
He spotted his wife, Miriam, standing by the cashier. She locked her eyes with his, raised her hand to gesture she had something important to tell him and walked up to him. "Yuri's feeling kind of sick, he's in the bathroom throwing up. We're all out of almond croissants and pea soup, which I will go and prepare now. Go talk to Yuri".
"Listen Miriam, something has come up. Can you please take care of Yuri".
"I'm not sure I can, there are lots of things to do".
"I know. I'm really sorry, it's very important".
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I think. Let me tell you later".
"Ok, I'll ask Sveta to make the soup".
With a quick stride he headed for the kitchen. He cut a large piece of lasagna, placed it in the microwave, cut up some vegetables and brewed a new batch of coffee. He crouched down, opened a cupboard, withdrew a bottle of vodka, took a quick swig, then headed back inside with the items.
Adam had removed a pair of woolen gloves and his eyes peeked out over the cold fingers on which he was blowing. When he noticed Andrej approaching he let his hands slide down under the table. Andrej placed the plate with the lasagna and salad and the coffee on the table. Adam took a sip out of the coffee and let it run down his body.
"So Adam, tell me, where are you and your parents staying? I cannot believe that they are here without having called me."
Adam looked up from the plate.
"My parents aren't here. They're back in England. I'm here on my own".
"I see. I forget Adam, how old are you these days?"
"I'm eighteen".
"Oh wow. Here in the restaurant I take things one day at a time. Sometimes I forget that the world keeps on turning on the outside and now you are eighteen years old. Unbelieavable".
Andrej noticed that the fork still lay unused on the table and that Adam was stealing peeks at the food.
"Well what are you waiting for? It's good! I promise!"
Adam's fingers crept away from him and raised the fork slowly, as if not disturb it, and then dipped deep into the lasagna, crushing the golden coating of cheese.
"Eighteen is a great age huh?"
"It's got its perks".
"It definitely does if you have a lady friend".
"Yeah".
"My kids have all left the nest. Alex is studying medicine in Italy and Petra is in Paris, working in fashion".
"That's nice".
"So, tell me what's new with your parents?".
"Nothing. They're working".
Andrej nodded. The notion that the lasagna was already half-way finished crept into his head.
"So what are you doing back in Sweden?"
"I have enrolled at the university here".
"That's great! What are you going to be studying?"
Adam looked up from his food.
"Finance", he answered tentatively.
"That will open up a lot of doors".
Content with the response, Adam shifted back to the lasagna with deep concentration. They sat in silence until Adam had emptied the plate. Adam leaned back on his chair. A glint suddenly caught his eye as if suddenly remembering where he was.
"I must go now".
"Yes, I'm sure you have a lot to take care off with the move".
"I do. Thank you for the meal".
Andrej was about to answer but set of words seemed to have been tied to Adam's tongue and were longing to taste the air of freedom.
"And thank you for your hospitality".
"No need to thank me. We're practically family. Just promise me you'll come and visit tomorrow as well. Tomorrow's special will blow your mind".
Adam started from his chair. He shook Andrej's hand awkwardly, as if his hand was trying to fit into a glove much too large. Then he was out, enveloped by the cold of the Swedish winter.