Evald Flisar - My Father's Dreams

I was woken by Grandpa Dominic, who was standing above me, still wearing his uniform.

“Adam,” he said, “why don’t you lie on the bed? Have a proper rest. I wanted to show you something, but it can wait.”

“No,” I rubbed my eyes and got to my feet, “I’m not really sleepy, it’s too early. Show me, please.”

“All right, come with me.”

I followed him downstairs and through the rear door into the courtyard and through the orchard to the small pond among the trees. The truck’s wheels had left deep tracks in the soft ground. The water in the pond was of unusual colour, probably because of the fading daylight.

“Something strange has happened,” said Grandpa Dominic. “The water has changed its taste. Dip you finger in it and taste it.”

I did so, and licked the finger. “This water is salty,” I said.

“That’s what I thought myself,” he said. “We’ve got sea water in our pond. How could that have happened?”

“It was brought by the tanker,” I suggested.

He winked at me; he was again the old sea captain in whose presence I had always felt so secure.

“Right,” he said. “That’s why it took me such a long time to get back from the seaside. It’s only water, but it took days to organise transport. But now we have our own private sea. Inland waters, puddles and ponds get filthy and sour, they begin to stink, and all kinds of vermin appear in them. Only the sea is clean, Adam. Now even the African gods no longer want to desert me. They can feel the purity of this water. Now they will guard the house and both of us and our little sea with all their heart.”

As we walked back to the house he said, “I know what people are going to say. The old man has gone senile and childish. But what do they know? Right, Adam? What do they know about the pleasures of being different? We mustn’t pay any attention to what they say. They’ll be saying things about you and your Father, too. We will ignore all of that, won’t we, Adam?”

I nodded. Grandpa Dominic put his hand round my shoulder and asked, “Have I ever told you the legend about the Morsi?”

I shook my head.

“How could I have forgotten?” he slapped his forehead. “I heard the legend in Polynesia, where one of my ships ran aground on a desert island. The Polynesians have many legends, but this one appealed to me most. The Morsi are sea creatures which…”

He suddenly stopped, as if afraid that he was about to divulge a secret for which the African gods might punish him.

“Actually,” he said as we reached the door, “it’s too dangerous to talk about the Morsi too much. It’s nicer and safer to dream about them. I’m sure you’ll meet them in your dreams as soon as you fall asleep.”

“Are you sure, Grandpa Dominic?”

“Absolutely. And the first dream in a new home is very important, because it contains the seeds of your future. So you must try to remember it.”

We stopped in front of the oak table in the big room. The glass jar containing Abortus was standing on it under the watchful eyes of the gods. In semi-darkness their eyes no longer seemed as harsh as before, they had softened and become almost friendly. And if I had ever doubted their unusual powers I had no reason to do so any more: the liquid inside the jar had miraculously cleared, and Abortus was once again able to look at the world around him!

“My little brother,” I introduced him to Grandpa Dominic.

He bent down to take a closer look. I wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed to me that he was a little startled.

“Can’t see much resemblance,” he said. “But very often those who have most in common resemble each other least.”

“Can he stay here?” I asked. “On this table? With the gods?”

“Well,” Grandpa Dominic straightened up and coughed slightly, “I can see no reason why not. We’re unlikely to have many visitors, so there is little chance that anyone would suffer a heart attack. Actually he is quite likeable.”

He asked me if I wanted to eat or drink anything before going to bed, but I was in a hurry to fall asleep and start dreaming about the Morsi. I asked him if they resembled sharks in any way.

“Not at all,” said Grandpa Dominic and sank into the armchair next to the oak table. “The Morsi are creatures of unconditional goodness. They keep cleansing the oceans. That is why the sea never gets dirty. Sometimes, if you feel very unhappy, one of them may allow you to touch him. After that you never feel lonely any more.”

His hand felt around for the cigar box; when I saw that he couldn’t reach it, I pushed it toward him. As he opened it and took out a cigar I saw that his hand was trembling.

“And now, dear Adam, the old captain is getting tired. No longer able to deal with dangerous storms as he used to in his younger days. And this storm has been one of the worst.”

He lit the cigar and pushed the extinguished match in the breast pocket of his jacket. He drew on the cigar, blew the smoke toward the ceiling and gave a sigh of contentment.

“Will your little brother mind if I have a smoke every now and then?” he suddenly remembered.

I said that he most certainly wouldn’t. On the contrary, for the first time in fifteen years he would feel really secure and happy.

“What about you?” asked Grandpa Dominic, as if in passing. But I felt that he was quite interested in hearing my answer.

“Me too,” I assured him.

“All right, then,” he said, leaning back and resting his head on the back of the chair. “Go now and dream about the Morsi.”

He closed his eyes and looked as if he was about to fall asleep. I carefully pulled the cigar from his hand and put it out by pushing the burning end against the table leg. Grandpa Dominic’s hand came to rest on his knee. He was breathing slowly and peacefully.

I said good night to Abortus and went up to my room. I put Eve’s teddy bear on the chest of drawers. I took off my shoes, undressed, fished pyjamas from my bag, put them on and climbed into bed. I remembered Eve. I felt warm and comfortable. I decided to ask Grandpa Dominic where she was being treated, when he thought they would release her, when she would visit him.

I tried to imagine her lying next to me, with both of us sinking into sleep hand in hand. And suddenly there we were, outside in the orchard, next to the pond with sea water, for the first time in a dream without Father. The pond widened into a sea which seemed to be endless, with frothy waves travelling away from the land into space.

And then I suddenly saw them. There were four of them, and they came running out of the sea with synchronised movements, as if performing a carefully choreographed ballet, all of the same size, resembling sheep dogs with very long hair, but with heads which reminded me of smiling dolphins. Although they had come from the sea they were not wet, and their bodies, although alive, looked transparent, as if made of glass. One was glassy blue, another glassy white, the third glassy red, the fourth silvery. As soon as they reached the land they stopped moving in unison and began to run around freely, jumping up and down, rolling about in the grass, sitting and staring, then rushing back to the water, splashing about in the shallows, and racing back out again.

The glassy white one sat down in front of us, watching us with the twinkling eyes of a dolphin. Grandpa Dominic came out of the house and brought a loaf of bread. He divided it into three pieces and gave one to Eve and one to me. We squatted, and the Morsi gathered in front of us, eating bread from our hands. Their snouts felt soft and caressing, but cold. When they finished the bread they leapt to their feet to run back into the sea.

But the glassy white one remained sitting in front of us. He was in no hurry to leave. The other three paused to wait for him. I slowly approached, and he allowed me to stroke his head. Then Eve did the same. Now we will never feel lonely again, I remembered Grandpa Dominic’s words. Then the Morsi wagged their tails as if to say good-bye, and in the same way they had come, with synchronised movements, raced back into the sea.