Dada 48

Just as I closed the door and lay down on the bed and waited for that cool time when  the sun  leaves the window and the river; Iskra knocked for me. Rumour has it around here that he lives off women. But when you ask him what he does, he says he works in a warehouse just like me.  He’s not very well liked around this Kampong but neither was Dada. But he often talks to me and from time to time he drops by for a while because I listen to him. I find what he says interesting. And besides, I don`t have any reason not to talk to him. He’s short with broad shoulders and a boxer`s nose. He`s always very well dressed.

Once, when we were talking about Srino he said, that’s a terrible matter about his bird. But he asked me if I didn’t find it all disgusting but I said no, everyone has to have something to hold onto. I did not tell him about the pirate’s life less  he imagined all that I did not like talking about might lead to this.

 As Iskra was about to leave, say goodbye and walk back upstairs he said: “I`ve got some lambs kidneys inside and wine. Would you like to have a bite to eat with me?” I thought how I and wouldn’t have to cook dinner and forgot about my cabbage after the sunset. I said yes. Iskra only has one room and a kitchen with a small window. On the wall above his bed there`s a pink and white stucco angel, some pictures of sporting champions, the fighter Many Pacqino from the southern Philippines  and two or three snap shots of naked women. The room was dirty and he hadn’t made the bed. First he lit the supplementary lights and the room flickered yellow, then he took a used elasticated support bandage out of his pocket and pulled it up and over his right hand. He held it with a fist until just his stubby fingers were showing bent beyond the fabric.