by Zac Funstein
At the University of Sydney (They lived in Australia for a while) Biniam carried off prizes, graduated with honours in classics, even played cricket with enthusiasm but his true love was pushing weights.
Biniam might have gone on to be a sports counsellor but there are psychos around, like there are anywhere-Kauê was unfortunate enough to be standing in front of a psycho who pushed him under a tube-a resolution grew within him to find what made ordinary citizens break laws. “Who was that Kauê?” asked his wife Zemzem who took an unusual interest in her husbands affairs.
Tough, a feminist, Zemzem committed her entire energies to photographing inner city families living in hardship so liked to know what was going on. Her most compelling work-a minefield from when muhajideen were fighting the Russians won many prizes. Zemzem ’s compelling photographs capture these unfortunate refugees haunted by weapons of an old war.
Kauê had the most eclectic rationale for a choice of partner inherited from Štěpán -his father who was the most rational as well as the most dispassionate of men. The conduct of his life was guided by a philosophy based on Josef Švarc's ‘The Stolen Voyager’. Švarc believed the law of the land was a potent instrument in shaping affections-whether this was read when impressionable (Štěpán admitted to being a Švarc devourer when a child) or if its mere premises were enough was not known-but this became sacrosanct within Kauê. Štěpán’s method of seeking a wife was so far unique that it may not be devoid of interest, even at this date that is certain. From careful study of ‘The Stolen Voyager’ Štěpán learned that the age at which a man should marry. A healthy/well-endowed specimen (Josef spoke of his would be life-partners like they were pinned to some board) should be one of the main objects in view in entering the marriage state. Importantly this ‘perfection’ must be of different temperament from his own plus (even more important) an economical housekeeper. So when the age designated as one suitable for marrying was approaching, Mr. Biniam Snr began to look about. There was no one in Wallace where they then lived who satisfied the stringent Biniam requirements, Štěpán therefore set out to discover his perfect mate in his rusting Jeep Cherokee anywhere they might be found.
In those days/ regions the professional tramp/ mendicant were comparatively unknown, everywhere dispensed its hospitality with an Arcadian simplicity little known nowadays when a tramp might easily be a trained assassin or worse. Wherever Biniam stopped overnight the traveller made a critical investigation of the housekeeping, perhaps rising before the family for this purpose. Kauê’s dad then searched in vain until his road carried him out of the province onto the next village or hamlet. One young woman spoiled any possible chance that might have been had by a lack of economy-but there were others worse or bad that drew near then far from this state of perfection. There were temptations to accept a close approx but wisely Štěpán desisted.
The search had extended not a small amount when, early one evening, Mr. Biniam Snr reached what was then the small village of Moncton. The newly arrived was attracted by the strains of prayer from a church, went into it, found a religious meeting in progress. His attention was arrested by a teenager deep in penitent supplication. Such had been seen before but the intensity was especially great for one so young. Štěpán positioned himself in such a position that he could carefully scan her movements. The conviction grew upon him that here was the object of his search. That such occurred before there was any opportunity to inspect the household ledger may lead the reader to conclusions of his/her own. Kauê inquired her name in any case- Eva Janová. Her father Vít worked in the nearby smelting works they had another daughter Markéta plus a son Jaroslav. Their mother Růžena died giving birth to him
Štěpán cultivated Eva’s acquaintance, paid his addresses, was accepted.Štěpán was fond of Eva, during the months of his engagement one of his favorite occupations was to take her for rides in his Vauxhall Monaro.
It is even said that, among the daydreams in which they indulged, one was that their firstborn might be an gunsmith. Probably this was only a passing fancy, as Kauê heard nothing of it during his childhood. The marriage was in all respects a happy one, so far as congeniality of nature/mutual regard could go. Although Růžena died early age, Vít never ceased to cherish her indeed so far as everyone was aware, never again considered marrying.
“Ronnie S. Fernandez wants us to take over with an intractable problem of his- nothing that need concern you.”
Some utilitarians believe that everything can be reduced to a rationale of pleasures or pains; most of the rest of us do not- Kauã Melo Ferreira who prefered a belt to a pair of braces for everyday wear who someone must have once said you should always choose an elegant belt made of pure leather with a brass buckle was not a utilitarian. Kauã who was charged with conveying to Kauê what Ron had told him-who was taken elsewhere- was sure that this would be a healthy stirring up of both pleasure plus pain.
“The Deuteronomy GPR is slightly more difficult being as how it was based on first letters in Latin of the deadly sins SALIGIA: superbia, avaritia, luxuria, invidia, gula, ira, acedia Kauê.”
“We have to go through each one-that is going to be irksome.”
“But a necessary one Biniam-one worth the effort expending.”
To state this was unusual would be an understatement Jakub Richter was not used to travelling this far. The scenery was moderately interesting but without being uncharitable this hardly merited the drive. Jakub tried to picture what his usual routine would be.
It wasn’t very exciting-go to his office (swiftly past his secretary)-the first patient would arrive for which invariably the same prescription would be given that which could be purchased over the counter practically.His analogous surgery in Deuteronomy superbia GPR however was what sometimes meant this trek had to be made. Much was changing for Richter now-the children had left so much time was spent alone. Even though his bleeper was still constantly going there was more leisure to explore himself. It had been a while since there had been room for his own needs. It seemed like yesterday that Tarja was here-when they had split nobody had believed it least of all him. There was still some vain wish they might get together but that was just it-vain without any substance. There wasn’t any purpose in waiting for it to thaw because it would stay frozen for good.
Richter worked hard but more importantly went in a straightforward direction. There was an abiding faith in a deity which some claimed was childish-what were priests after all perverts who preyed on the young- those that believed in a God per se were old or dead.
Short ‘n bald; his best feature was his penetrating stare. Always impeccably clean — brushed, scrubbed, starched/ shined. A tendency to show up in the office in rumpled khakis was dropped early on. Inclined to be irascible, very much aware of his own influence, Jakub disciplined himself to conceal his impatience. ‘I am,’ Jakub wrote in his vellum diary, ‘above all else a man of reserved, cold, austere, even forbidding manners…’
Ill at ease in large gatherings, but in intimate circles Jakub could be an entertaining companion. Imposing rigid moral standards on himself, the Deuteronomy superbia GPR buff was inclined to judge others harshly. An almost Puritan sense of duty plus a passion for work that went through all the Richter clan, which kept him at his desk for long hours not only in connection with official duties but in the scholarly researches which gave him so much enjoyment. Each day Jakub found time to make lengthy entries in his diary, which constituted one of the most revealing sources for the political events of his era. His wife, witty yet gracious, somewhat compensated for her husband's social shortcomings despite-or because of- always seemingly dressed like a frazzled 'charwoman'. Tarja 's weekly evening parties were among the most popular in Alberta however-but since they had split up were a thing of past. Her deportment once the subject of reams of scurrility in prose/ verse: that which lowered her in the opinion of some whose esteem was valued; was now beyond the reach of praise/censure.
“I sense your problem,” exclaimed
Jakub sensitively. “Mathews concocts burlesques/ parodies of such rare excellence as to seem a parody of the broad literary japery of Jukka-Pekk Oksanen at his most inspired, but as to if they are Deuteronomy superbia GPR I very much doubt.”
Earlier Kauê Biniam had admitted to using Christoffer B. Mathews as a Deuteronomy superbia GPR resource but not getting very far. During the final stint, it was a squib as a contest, neither side able to break the deadlock.
For a second there was only the electric fizzle, the sounds of hospital life going on in the distance.Winter’s here, with drier air comes static electricity it seemed to declare. It was a like a small explosion on board on an aircraft- enough to cause decompression but not to suck people out.
Sitting in a swivelling creaking chair opposite him was Monticello his tired expression harshened by the deep shadows that covered it. Monticello stopped typing at the colonial rolltop desk then spun around in his swivel chair so his position was squarely opposite Kauê. Every movement Biniam made was observed.
Jakub launched an opening gambit.
“It’s a mistake that many make they always turn to Christoffer B. Mathews for succour. It’s like joining the Bengali Army there might be a high-profile advertising campaign but the remuneration remains a disincentive for running such a gamut. Why there are those who go to him I don’t know I have never known Mathews to be of any good for anyone apart from himself. Many are not naive, quixotic or even excessively optimistic as him. We are talking about one of the most selfish people alive at this moment in Canada Biniam. As for everyone else I can’t say-they must speak for themselves.”
“It goes to when they are babies they are never cuddled they get left on their own a lot.”
In contrast to Western literature, American Indian literature does not focus on the resolution of the conflict, nor does it revolve around a central character or hero, which would tend to hierarchize events in the literature- superbia was like American Indian literature it seemed to dislike heroes.
“Maybe Christoffer did his utmost. certainly there is still viewing with suspicion by some in the law enforcement those scars have not fully healed. I doubt that they ever will be able to fully but one never really knows.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Jakub.”
“Swings/roundabouts-some we win some we lose-there is nothing we can do about that.Nearly every calamity/ malady known to humankind has a saint to look after it but is there one for superbia? No there is not Biniam.”
Fascinating, too, is Jakub’s fresh, unsentimental take on Mathews’s inner circle, a seraglio who alternately adored/ exasperated him. Mathews was believed to have a virtual harem from which his strength was drawn- the ‘harem scarem’ principle as called. If anything went wrong with the superbia then this resource was from where comfort was drawn- disciplinarianism won Christoffer a reputation as a harsh taskmaster. The seraglio might not win any defensive awards, but no one could question the excitement they brought. Even an inaugural speech or a funeral eulogy loses relevance when taken out of context-this did not seem the moment to go into any depths thereof.
The news report was adamant military helicopters have been unable to deliver supplies or rescue stranded villages because of the harsh weather. At the moment, old people couldn’t really afford to buy the drugs they should have because of the natural calamity not without making harsh economies at least.
Avaritia seemed to be the preserve of a lot of people finding just which one really knew now that was the real difficulty.
Stine A. Laursen the deeply spiritual actress makes no secret of the fact that wherever she goes a small, gold amulet - a gift from her Guru in Malaysia a potent symbol of his protection with the symbol Ava on was carried but when her press agent was sent an e-mail the reply came this was purely a coincidence-the article was ‘purely for fun’.
Jakub Richter was sure that Celina L. Iversen would know they had collaborated on several occasions with GPR; Avaritia or avaritia ( the capital seemed to be interchangeable) seemed to interest her more than superbia, though what reason this was, was better known to herself. Where we found ourselves taken never was satisfactorily divined. The proviso that Iversen was changing address so that not leaving anything to the last minute was given.
Sure enough, there was a moving van plus people carrying boxes to the house. There was furniture the occupants might have known all their lives become familiar with even loved, but it looked quite different out-of-doors: gaunt, even sorry for itself. Celina dressed in worn trousers plus an old shirt was addressing one of the removal men in harsh admonitory tones in bringing a packing-case to the van. ‘For God's sake, be careful what you're doing, man’.Then it must have been wanted to make sure that her bicycle was not damaged for Iversen wheeled such up the ramp of the van to give it over to the removal person inside. The name of the firm was emblazoned on the side in a type of Gothic script so fanciful that even Kauê Biniam had trouble reading it, but eventually it was realised that it spelt Dalmeny where many of the early settlers were Mennonites. The town site developed with the arrival of the Canadian National Railways. As it was, most of her new neighbours barely gave the removal van another glance; it was a common enough sight on the patch — there was always someone moving in or out.
A person dressed in a Halloween Frankenstein costume went past as Kauê Biniam went up to engage Celina - very much the girl next store, subtle with a hint of the quintessential je ne sait que.
You need only a few seconds to know something about a person talking to you, without considering the shields they use to hide their real selves. The accent someone uses conveys about what sort of person they are, but mostly it is how they hold themselves.
Afterwards Kauê drove down the road slowly- visited many interesting architectural interpretations spoke to many interesting people. One thing was for sure this street was loaded, basement to attic. Talking to the neighbours after Celina had gone it would would appear that her tenure was marred by little-a penchant for wearing kimono perhaps, but that was hardly a major infraction of the legal structure. For a while there was an interest in painting it would seem-large canvases were decorated with the recurrent Iversen motif. There was a viewing of her work here at the house being moved from but nothing very much was purchased eventually the creations ended up in a dumpster. The downside, of course, is that voraciousness lends a short shelf life to art works thus a seasonal fashion-based attitude sets in; careers often flame out quickly in the art world. Finding commercialism had taken over pottery-making with the same voracity as it had taken over the former a brush with this met with similar lack of success. People want everything faster, better, more interesting because people get bored more quickly easily than of yore.
“Kasper S. Berg is more the avaritia person these days Mr. Biniam.”
Having encountered Celina his concern had been given vent.
Celina is able to observe him for what Kauê is, not simply through a screen of defensive reactions. Doing so, Iversen perceives that this is an interesting person, with bad features, but also good ones, toward whom there is at times hostility, but empathy too.
“After a man has been locked up for any real length of time, baby, this homo-sapien gets a whole new concept of anything. But on the up-side it gives him the leisure to study which Berg did- avaritia-almost to the exclusion of anything else.”
“Kasper was inside-that’s terrible.”
“Not for nothing was his grandfather the only person that was actually a member of the decision-making politburo from a country behind the Iron Curtain. Some found him a little-how shall we put it-a little reactionary. That’s putting it mildly Kauê I can assure you.”
Kauê was making his way to his Chrysler when someone across the road called him over.
Being sure to use his road-safety Biniam did as requested.
“That’s the umpteenth move this year,” said the man wearing one of those shirts the ones we've seen a TV-host wearing as a gimmick, a cardigan plus a pla
id hat tilted forward in comic fashion.
There were the obligatory laughter lines but the impression given that this was a ‘control freak’ if necessary-someone who could take command of a potentially threatening situation.
The stranger invited Kauê in. Once surrounded by his comfortable realm they were soon like old-friends.
“I should have mentioned whilst we were watching the removal-I am infact Morton Iversen Celina’s husband or should I say ex-husband.”
A wedding photo in oval frame was given for his perusal.
“Celina has this uncanny ability for doing the wrong thing at the wrong time they’ll probably find a klondike seam underneath or an old-master in the attic.”
“Did you know Kasper S. Berg?”
“Just in passing your beginning to sound like Celina-that was her favourite topic. Why everything is Kasper all of a sudden I don’t know.”
The tiny KGO traffic helicopter above curved toward the bridge. The traffic report finished, the little shape hovered over the bridge suddenly moving gracefully away toward Oakland. The camera zoomed in revealing a teenage girl in torn shorts with T-shirt proclaiming loudly ‘the inhabitants are scared’ perched on railings holding what seems like a Heckler/ Koch Tactical T. Beyond her on the south-bound lane was a Ford pickup truck. The passenger side was open-the occupants only vaguely familiar.
The events leading up to the incident had given the media-crews opportunity to set up numerous cameras at various crucial angles unfolding at the hub of the suspension bridge that was nearby.Traffic had stopped in the north/westbound lanes. Cars, vans, ambulances plus fire-emergency vehicles clogged the bridges entrance ramps.
“Nasty all round,” exclaimed Kauê Biniam as security moved nearer-tightrope walkers who have become comfortable with balancing on the brink of disaster.
