Макс Фрай - The Stranger

After I had made my peace with the door, I went inside the nearly empty dining hall, chose the farthest table, and plopped down in a comfortable, soft chair.

No sooner had I sat down than a cheerful, plump lady appeared and handed me a weighty menu. I was duly impressed. It’s not every restaurant, even in the Capital, that offers such abundant fare.

“A cup of kamra, please,” I said. “I think I’ll have to study this beautiful book for some time.”

“One kamra, coming up!” The tavern-keeper smiled graciously. “Kamra, and something a bit stronger, as well, miss?”

“If I drink something stronger I’ll fall asleep in the chair before my meal arrives. I’d like something more vitalizing,” I said. The Elixir of Kaxar was resting safely in my travel bag in the house at 24 Old Riverbank St., which I had located on only six of the eleven maps of Kettari. Needless to say, this did not infuse me with optimism.

“I’d highly recommend Elixir of Kaxar,” suggested the tavern-keeper, brightening. “Ever since the rules for cooks were relaxed in the Capital, we have been able to stock this marvelous drink. Are you familiar with it?”

“And how!”

I noted to myself that I had probably discovered the “best darn diner in this crazy town,” as Sir Juffin Hully would have said. What luck!

The mistress of the tavern left, and I buried my nose in the menu. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the names of the dishes contained not a whit of useful information, and were a bunch of abstract lyrical malarky. I waited until the mistress returned with a diminutive glass of Elixir of Kaxar, and explained to her that I needed a hefty portion of something tasty, but not too refined. Yesterday’s experience with the lard had made me wary. After a long exchange, the mistress concluded that what I was after was one order of Wind Kisses. I did not object. The mistress said that the dish would take at least a half hour to prepare. I nodded my approval. It’s always easy to come to an agreement with me. Then she disappeared into the semidarkness of the kitchen.

I sipped the Elixir of Kaxar. My spirits perked up, and I started to look around. I’d been wanting a cigarette for a long time. I just needed to find out whether it was permitted.

The hall was almost empty. Apart from me there was only one other customer who sat by the window with a view onto a curious fountain with colored streams that didn’t simply fall downward, but twisted in intricate spirals. I tried but was unable to make out the face of the stranger. I could only see his back, hunched over a board game. By a leap of the imagination it could have been considered a local variant of chess. The figures were more or less similar, but the board was divided into triangles and painted three different colors.

This fellow seemed to be so engrossed in his intellectual conundrums that not only would it have been possible to smoke a cigarette from another world in his presence, but one could have organized an entire striptease without him noticing. So I lit up without further ado. Lonli-Lokli was totally living it up in this grand city of Kettari—did I deserve any worse?

Wind Kisses turned out to be tiny patties made of tender fowl. After I finished, I drank the rest of my divine Elixir and placed my souvenirs on the table. Again I studied all eleven versions of the map of Kettari. Now I had another surprise: High Street, Fisheye Street, and the Down Home Diner were there on all eleven maps. This coincidence astonished me even more than the numerous inconsistencies I had found earlier. Not trusting overmuch my own powers of perception, I again pored over the tiny letters on the map. Maybe everything on the map had been just as it should be from the start—only my senses had been confused by the jumble of new impressions. But no, the discrepancies I had found were still there.

I sighed. I would just have to wait patiently for the errant Lonli-Lokli to return so I could dump this problem on his strong shoulders—assuming, of course, I’d be able to find the road home. What if, indeed, Old Riverbank Street wasn’t where it was supposed to be?

“Don’t fret so, Sir Max. That’s all neither here nor there. By the way, you’ve hardly collected all the variants.”

I stared silently at this suddenly chatty gentleman. Did he say “Sir Max” to me? No, I must have misheard. I couldn’t possibly have heard correctly! My Lady Marilyn was a perfectly executed illusion, a masterpiece of Sir Kofa Yox’s artistry, the pride of both of us.

The chess player smiled slyly under his reddish mustache, stood up, and came toward me. He had a marvelously light gait, and a very unremarkable face that I already couldn’t commit to memory—but that gait I’d no doubt still remember in another thousand years!

“The name’s Mackie Ainti,” he said softly, sitting down in a chair near mine. “Sir Mackie Ainti, the old sheriff of Kettari.”

I nodded in silence. My heart was thumping against my ribcage, trying to escape so it could fetch the suitcases and get out of town as soon as possible. The arm of the chair creaked loudly under the convulsive grip of my fingers.

“There’s no cause for alarm,” Sir Mackie Ainti said, and smiled a slow smile. “You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve waited for this moment, even if I told you myself!”

“A long time?” I asked faintly.

“Yes. Quite a while. I’m awfully glad to see you! You can’t imagine just how glad I am!”

“Glad?”

I was completely at a loss. Couldn’t wait to see me? How was that possible? He didn’t even know me. As far as I knew, Sir Juffin Hully was not exactly corresponding with his first teacher.

“Fine. If you’ve got it into your head that you just have to be surprised—well, I’ll just head back to my board over there. When you’re over your shock, send me a call.”

“What? No, it’s not worth going back and forth. I’ll be quick about it,” I said. “Naturally, the person who taught Sir Juffin Hully what’s what in his time would know everything in the World.”

“You got that right. You know, Maba and I had a falling out—”

“Sir Maba Kalox is here?”

“How should I put it . . . At the moment, as we speak, no. And you never can say anything for sure about Maba. Whatever the case may be, he does sometimes pay me a visit. That’s how we got to arguing about you, and neither of us guessed. I wasn’t at all sure you’d drop in here, and I was getting ready to pay you a visit. But Maba talked me out of it. He reckoned that within a dozen days or so you’d come round to Down Home Diner . But we sure didn’t expect to see you this soon. Have you any notion how lucky you are, partner?”

“Sir Juffin tells me all the time. I’ve got a whole slew of arguments to the contrary, but they don’t count, I guess?”

“You got that right. You lucky dogs are all like that. It was even a miracle that you were born, did you know that?”

I shook my head in bewilderment. Up to this point I had thought that the story of my conception contained no dramatic plot twists.

“The details are immaterial to you, but you can keep it in mind, anyway. Well, no matter. Looks like you want to smoke?”

I nodded. The problem was that my cigarette box was empty and my magic pillow was at my lodgings.

“Maba left you a present. He asked me to tell you that you’re a very quick learner, so it’s probably not so much a present as a well-earned reward.”

Mackie handed me a whole pack of my favorite cigarettes, with three gold stars on a yellow background.

“Whoa! Looks like I won the jackpot!” I exclaimed. “You were absolutely right, Mackie. I’m the luckiest person in the universe!”