Addition

Excerpt from Chapter II of the novel 'The Three Jolly Tiddlekins' by Vlad Mușatescu
..............................................................................................................................................
'Have you asked for the check? Perfect... Three coffees, fifteen lei...'
'Well, there's only two of us!' I tried to determine him to come into contact with reality.  
'No way! I see three, therefore you are three...'
Aunt Ralița, wanting to put an end to it, paid the amount, fearing not to start a quarrel with the drunkards, and turned to leave. Still, having a golden heart, she asked the maitre d'hotel: 
'How will you get home, dear, being so exhausted, if I may say so?'
"I've got a car, ma'm! Utomobile, presonal proprety...'
'Good for you! But today, I think it's better if you took the bus!' tanti Ralița advised him.
'No can do! Impossibel, as the English would say...It doesn't fit into the garage!' said the maitre d'hotel, wiggling like a mast in the storm.
.............................................................................................................................................

I want it all. And I want it now!

Whenever we arrive to the conclusion that there is only one thing missing that hinders our happiness, panic sets in. Looking through the holes in our neighbour's fence, we realize that the piece missing from our puzzle is the neighbour's stunning display. And bang! Over the roof goes our desire to obtain as soon as possible what we see in the display. But it must be the exact replica. Or, to be modest, it wouldn't hurt if we obtain a better replica (so as to take revenge for the hole in the fence).

In a nutshell, a piece will always be missing from our puzzle. I have everything, but I don't have kids. I have everything, but I haven't found my match. I have everything, but I don't have a job. I have everything, but I don't have enough money to go on trips. I have everything, but ... And what if we could juggle with this sentence?! I don't have kids, but I have everything else. I haven't found my match, but I have everything else. I don't have a job, but I have everything else. I don't have enough money to go on trips, but I have everything else. I don't have ..., but I have everything else.

It's tough keeping calm when your inner self is a child that squirms on the floor, hysterically crying over a lollipop that is in the hands of another kid. A responsible parent would never grab the lollipop from the kids' hands and hand it to her/ his hysterical kid, squirming on the floor. It's a matter of principle.

Furdui Iancu is everywhere

It's easy to lose yourself while walking through the streets of Tyumen. The cherry plums are in bloom, and the smell accompanies one from one corner of the street to the other, having one sole rival - music. Small speakers throne high from the poles, murmuring sweet arias. What can be more enchanting than to walk under blooming trees, listening to Frank Sinatra?!
Yesterday, though, a change occurred. I was waiting for the extraordinary transformation of red into green, at the crossroads, when a deep voice interrupted my daydream. For a short moment, I thought that it was a song sang in Romanian. The singer's voice was similar to the one of Furdui Iancu's; the same vibrant sound and, I imagined, the same facial expressions. Who is Furdui Iancu? Well, I'll tell you what's written in my registry - my mother's favorite folk music singer. Probably this explanation doesn't do much for you, does it?! Inevitably, I arrive to a conclusion - every country has its own Furdui Iancu.

The Three Jolly Tiddlekins by Vlad Mușatescu

Today marks 93 years since the day Vlad Mușatescu was born. I couldn’t let this day pass by without celebrating his memory. I have learned that experiences turn into memories and they are the most precious asset we’ll ever have. Dear master, I want to thank you for all the smiles your books have given me! Each and every one of us can be the character of a comedy, we just have to stop taking ourselves so seriously. I smile therefore I evoke you.

Excerpt from Chapter I

..............................................................................................................................................

Finally, after killing, in cold blod, the last of the mosquitos flying around my flat, after unwillingly listening to the noise of trams, buses and all other means of transport making their morning rounds, I was waiting for the Sandman to come. My eyes were focused on the screen of the clock, just to make sure that the Sandman arrives on time. And he did. Around nine thirty.

Just one tiny detail, it wasn’t him. Somebody else was knocking at the door. And doing it with such force and obstinance that I thought for a moment that the building would fall down. As a matter of fact, had this person use the doorbell, I would have been more satisfied. Because it was out of order. To be exact, it was so from the moment that my aunt Ralitza forced her finger into the place were the button was missing.

              ’Who is it? ’ I asked in a sweet voice, even though I was boiling on the inside.

                ’Well, who do you think it could be? It’s me, Ralitza, your aunt! I have been yelling since seven o’clock, and you don’t hear me... ’

Of course, I urgently invited her in. I was afraid the neighbours would lynch me. Extremely intrigued, I immediately asked her:

 ’I don’t get it, aunt Ralitza! If you have been here since seven o’clock, why haven’t you knocked at the door, instead of yelling? ’

My aunt squinted at me, and then explained:

’Al, sonny, it’s not human what is happening with you, and neither with this building you are living in... At what door was I supposed to knock since I was stuck in the elevator? I was blocked between floors, and just five minutes ago I was able to get out...’

Jiggered by what I was hearing, I asked aunt Ralitza to excuse me for a moment, until I got dressed. When she, benevolently, agreed and gave me a piece of advice:

’Listen Al, sonny, it would be perfect if we went into the kitchen after you got dressed... Due to so much excitement, I am so hungry I could even eat expanded concrete.’

’All right! We’ll do that... And what is your heart’s desire?’

’Well, nothing complicated; just something to eat... Some sandwiches, let’s say five of them, with cheese or bacon, and a glass of water...’

’Don’t you think it’s a little too much? Maybe you should keep a diet, like I am...’

’Mhm! You might be right. Then I’ll have the sandwiches, without the glass of water!...’

.......................................................................................................................................

Like a wooden table in the middle of a rapeseed field

Pebbles are gritting under my shoes. I learned that it is better to look down before you take careful steps. I have been told that it is a sign of resignation. It is not. I was so much impressed with Harap-Alb's story that I am taking all precautions in order not to crush my luck. One never knows when one is faced with a challenge and one is in desperate need of an ant's or a bee's wing.

Left, right, left, right. Things that never change surely do give you security! I clenched my fists within the pockets of my jacket and move forward. 

I, the Student

I came back to an old status. I am a student. It seems Lenin's famous indication 'Learn, learn, learn!' has had a greater impact on me than I expected.

As I was running to and fro, between my house and my school, making sure to always carry with me a pen, a notebook and the handbook, I found my reflection in a window shop. It was amusing since it was the same reflection I had seen years ago when I was an undergraduate, running between the dorm and the campus. The top knot bun reminds me that some things never change. The rest of the things?! Well, they enhance or they don't.

A Pledge

A leaf fell right on the tip of my left green shoe. It was the same yellowish brown I had been seeing for the past 31 autumns. I stopped and glanced at the beautiful color combination. Fall always made me feel brand new; it was the spring for the buds in me. Something new and exciting was always expecting me at the arrival of fall. I have been moving around, changing apartments, cities and now countries for at least 6 years, that packing seemed like an ordinary activity, mostly like watering the flowers in the garden. I picked up the leaf and a mild scent of moist filled my nostrils. I remembered Bucharest. It was the fall of 2012 and people’s spirits needed lifting; being that the head of the state could not be unseated. A lot of skeptics doubted the democratic republic, but I was sure that a lot had changed since the fall of communism. People were no longer afraid now; they had a voice.

After the first month living in a new flat, I noticed some bizarre sums added to my administration costs. Since the owner of the flat suggested that she should come and present me herself to the administrator, I thought it won’t hurt to wait and ask the administrator myself for the explanation on that given occasion, which arrived soon as I had some problems with the washing machine that needed to be replaced.

So one afternoon I met with the lady in order to see the administrator, who had his office in the building next to the one I was living in. She entered the access code and we were granted the entry. We took the elevator until the penultimate floor, and then we took the stairs for one more floor. A queue of three people was nicely arranged in front of an open door. A desk was stuffed at the entrance and behind it a grumpy frowning man was sitting. He had the look of a hungry eagle, hovering around a corpse, waiting for the perfect time to attack, while the victim – a poor old man – was begging for mercy. I took it that the grouchy man, playing hide-and-seek behind his big pair of glasses was the administrator, Escu.

“I told you over and over again”, he shouted disdainfully and his bushy eyebrows seemed to be able to cause hurricanes, “you need to hand me the water quota until the 5^th of the month”.

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry”, the old man replied in a squeaky voice. “But, you see, I was away visiting my daughter for three weeks and …”

“I don’t care!” Escu’s voice thundered forth and his wide shoulders seem to rise menacingly. “Who am I, your priest?! I don’t care about the explanations, I care about the quotas. You have not handed them to me until the approved date so this month you are going to pay more. Next time, be more careful! Go now, you’re keeping the others waiting!”

And that’s when I knew it. The flat owner was not making a courtesy introduction; she was standing at the courtesy of the administrator. I was shocked to see that everyone was waiting in line, quietly accepting that others are victims of this bully, who might also become their bully, too. When it was our turn, I thought I caught a glimpse of the owner’s shaking hands. I refused to give into panic. I was an adult, not a child scared to have forgotten the homework at home and terrorized at the thought of a bad mark.

“This is Ann, my new tenant”, said the owner in a tremulous voice, “It is her first month here.”

“Ah”, exclaimed Escu with a honeyed voice.

“Yeah, well, you see”, I could feel the owner giving in to the fear. “Ann and I have some questions regarding the administration costs. I mean, they are a little bit high, comparing to what was declared.”

“I know you think highly of my services”, replied Escu in a plummy voice, “otherwise, I would have been terribly offended. Does the young lady have a copy of her ID?”

“Yes, I have”, I stated in a toneless voice. “Here it is. But before leaving, we would really appreciate it if you could explain the costs. For example, what are these household expenses that you included in the list, next to administration costs? For me it seems like they are the same. Why do we have two amounts for the same service?”

“What are the expenses?” asked Escu, and I felt his blue eyes burning me down. “You see, young lady, one of these days you, youngsters, must get it into your heads that we are not as irresponsible as you and we don’t claim money just for the fun of it. Household expenses are the result of taking good care of the building in which you are living.”

“There’s no need to yell. I can hear you very well from where I’m standing. I did not mean to offend you; it’s just that the owner and I are entitled to an explanation.”

“Entitled?!” he hissed. “This idea of democracy has turned you all into fools. Listen here, missy, I do my job properly and I am not going to have you giving me a lecture about it. I have been doing this long before you were even born. You, people, should learn your place.”

“Mr. Escu”, I tried to talk as calmly as I could, but my voice came out squeaky and brittle. I discourage easily when someone yells at me, and I feared that my weakness was now exposed. “I treated you with nothing but respect, and the questions I addressed you don’t question neither your knowledge nor your equity. It is my civil right to know what I am paying for. No one accused you of wrong doing. We just wanted some explanations.”

“And I gave them to you, miss”. He sounded like a winner, and the fact that he now called me miss was a clear sign that he knew I was defeated.

Terrified, the flat owner went through her purse and pulled out her wallet. While I was being yelled at by the administrator, she kept her head down. I don’t know if it was because she felt ashamed that she did not react, or because she was trying her best not to infuriate Escu. Suddenly, I felt alone. It seemed like I was mad to even think that this was not the proper way to address a person. And it got worse. The flat owner took out from the wallet the amount of money to be paid. I felt small and a strange feeling grew inside of me, like some kind of weed was growing fast around my neck, suffocating me. I tried to encourage myself thinking that in a funny way I was witnessing a real-life Tom and Jerry episode, the one with Jerry’s cousin dressed in a striped black and yellow jumper. The flat owner would be Tom kissing Jerry’s (Escu) tip of the shoe whenever he whistled. It wasn’t just as funny, though. Escu was satisfied, he had just been validated by the flat owner. He was looking down at the money and counting them. I couldn’t see his sly eyes, but I knew he was enjoying another victory. He was undisputable.

“Good bye”, Escu answered the flat owner.

A slight grin appeared on his face. We were leaving him there, just like an ancient god, absolutely unattainable. When we turned to leave, I saw that a new queue was formed. I suddenly recognized the look on their faces. I had seen it before. It was the “you’ve upset the teacher, and now he is going to give us bad marks” look. I guess change is always frowned upon, even by those who would mostly benefit from it. I never intended to win something out of that confrontation, but I have never expected to find that the world of adults is also graded. I pledged myself never to forget that we are as free as we let ourselves be.

I gently put my other hand on the yellowish brown leaf, and felt its moist for a while against my closed hands. Such a sweet sensation! I felt a gentle wind in my cheeks and closed my eyes for a moment. There are no barriers! Not unless we put them around us. I have never broken that vow, and so help me, I’ll never will.