Макс Фрай - The Stranger

My right hand was still empty, and I had promised myself that I wouldn’t light up until I had finished my tedious work.

“The tobacco is rather strong, but it really is much better than what I’m used to,” Lonli-Lokli said approvingly. “Now I understand why you wore such a sad expression whenever you smoked your pipe.”

“My expression was sad?” I asked, and burst out laughing. “Ah, here it is, the sweet little thing—the wait is over! Out you come!” I quickly extricated my hand from under the pillow and studied my quarry.

Oh, great. That’s all I needed: in my hand was a self-rolled joint. The sight and the smell left no room for doubt.

“The devil take it! All my efforts in vain!” I felt cheated.

“What’s wrong?” Lonli-Lokli asked. “You don’t like that kind?”

“Something like that. But it’s worse than that. Most of my countrymen smoke this to relax, but it just gives me a headache. I suppose I am abnormal. Do you want to relax, Sir Shurf? We can trade.”

“Interesting,” Lonli-Lokli looked bemused. “I never refuse the opportunity for a new experience.”

“You want to try?” I beamed. “Then my efforts weren’t all in vain after all. And who knows, it may really help you to relax. That’s something I wish for you with all my heart, Shurf, since you’re not crazy about Kettari.”

I offered him the joint and happily smoked the rest of the cigarette myself. I desperately wanted another one immediately upon taking the last drag, but I only had three left, and a whole evening ahead of me. I turned to Lonli-Lokli.

“Well, are you relaxed, old friend? Let’s go eat dinner.”

Then my jaw dropped so low I could almost hear the thud.

I have no words to describe my astonishment. Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli was grinning from ear to ear. It just didn’t seem possible that it was his own face. I shuddered.

“That’s some funny smoking stick. A fine little thing,” Lonli-Lokli winked at me, and giggled foolishly. “If you only knew, Max, how funny it is to talk to you looking like red-headed girl.”

The giggles grew into outright laughter.

“Is everything all right, Shurf?” I inquired cautiously.

“Why are you staring at me like that, mate? The big bore that I have been for quite a while now just went for a stroll. And you and I are going out to eat, only . . .” He burst out laughing again. “Only just try to close your mouth. Otherwise everything will fall out of it and . . . and there won’t be anything to swallow!”

“Sweet,” I muttered. “And I thought I’d be able to get a rest from Melifaro for a while. All right, let’s go. Only don’t forget that my name is Marilyn, and yours—”

“Do you really think that all the people of Kettari are going to eavesdrop on our conversation?” Lonli-Lokli asked. “Drop whatever they’re doing and crawl around under the windows of some tavern to hear the names we call each other?” He laughed again. “Sinning Magicians, Max! It’ll be a tight squeeze for all of them! How many people live in this town?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, however many there are, it’s still going to be a tight squeeze!” Lonli-Lokli brayed like a donkey. “Let’s go. I’ve never been so hungry in my life! Just don’t wiggle your behind, Max, or you’ll have trouble with the male population. Or don’t you object to trouble like that?”

“I object to any kind of trouble at all,” I retorted angrily.

“Let’s go, Marvel!”

“Me, a Marvel? Take a look at yourself!” I said, but Lonli-Lokli was already groaning helplessly with laughter. Nevertheless, we managed to leave for our outing.

Along the way, Sir Shurf giggled without stopping. Everything sent him into gales of laughter: the way I walked, the faces of occasional passersby, masterpieces of local architecture. And you could understand why. By my calculations, he hadn’t even smiled in two hundred years. Here was the opportunity of a lifetime! He was like a Bedouin who had just found himself in a swimming pool. It was pleasant to watch him enjoying himself so thoroughly, as long as he didn’t choke from joy. Whether I had done a good deed or committed the most terrible blunder of my life remained to be seen.

“What are we going to eat?” I asked, seating myself at a small table in the Country Home , an old-fashioned tavern that I remembered Lady Sotofa mentioning.

“Whatever we order, we’ll end up eating crap again. You can bet on that!” said Lonli-Lokli, and dissolved in mirth once more.

“In that case, let’s take the easy way out.” I closed my eyes and pointed randomly at one of the meals listed on the menu. “Number eight. I know what I’m getting. How about you?”

“What an excellent way to make a decision!” Shurf frowned and pointed at something. As one might have predicted, he missed, and knocked over my glass, which crashed to the floor. Lonli-Lokli guffawed again. I sighed. And this was the fellow who was supposed to keep me out of trouble?

“Oooh, I’ll have to try again!” Lonli-Lokli gasped, his laughter finally spent. This time I was ready for him, and propped up the menu in front of him just in time. Sir Shurf’s forefinger pierced right through the menu at about the thirteenth item. The owner of this dangerous weapon exploded in laughter all over again.

“You must be hungry,” I said. “I think a hole in the menu means a double portion. I hope with all my heart that it’s something tolerable.”

“Don’t ever hope! It will be crappier than crap!” Lonli-Lokli announced cheerfully. Then he roared at the proprietor who was timidly making his way to us, “Crap No. Eight, and Double Crap No. Thirteen. And make it snappy!”

“You’ve scared the living daylights out of him,” I said, watching the stooped shoulders of the retreating prorietor. “I can only imagine how—”

“No, you can’t! You can’t imagine the teeniest tiniest thing! All the better. Oh-ho! Now it’s time to start stuffing our bellies! Look how he waddles, it’s hilarious! By the way, your way of choosing a meal is really something. Do you see what they’re bringing us?”

“Yes, I see it,” I said. I was completely at a loss.

They served Lonli-Lokli two minute vase-like glasses, each of which contained a fragment of some whitish substance that smelled simultaneously of mildew, honey, and rum. I was presented with a huge pot, filled to the brim with meat and vegetables.

“Bring me the same, immediately!” Lonli-Lokli demanded. “Otherwise I’ll feel embarrassed in front of the lady. And take back that Number Thirteen! We smelled it, and that was enough!”

“You may leave one,” I interrupted. “I’m very curious about what kind of junk you ordered.”

“Go ahead and try it. Personally, I’m not willing to risk my life over such a trifle. Goodness, Sir Max—how funny you are!”

The proprietor stared at us in mute bewilderment and disappeared, taking one of the much-maligned little vases with him.

I poked around at the whitish substance with squeamish fascination, sniffed it again, and cautiously tasted a bit of it.

It tasted like a horrible mixture of lard and smelly cheese, soaked in some variety of the local spirits.

“Disgusting!” I pronounced with a certain respect. “This is what we need to take back with us as a present for Juffin. It’s the best medicine for homesickness and nostalgia, which he doesn’t suffer from anyway.”

“If we ever see that sly old fox again, that is,” Lonli-Lokli said with a smirk. “Actually, you have a lot of experience traveling between Worlds, don’t you?”

“Not too much,” I replied, a bit shamefaced. “You’ve changed your tune, it seems. You never liked me talking about my World before.”