Arnon Grunberg - Tirza

He likes to pay for the happiness. In the happiness is an unsustainable debt hidden. A mistake. Something he must be paid as a lump sum.

Now he has not more cold, he has the hot. He feels the sweat resistance along its spine. It seems as if he has fever as if he were cold is trying.

Tirza looks at him, but no longer as the daughter to the father is looking even if the caring daughter who looks at the man who has brought for her, she looks quite different to him. In her view he sees the alien. The tenant to the landlord looks while he is considering the offer.

She turns around, she runs away from him, he hears her up the stairs to run. If a Levite, do ship's steward.

In the kitchen it a glass gewürztraminer in. There is not much more. Cold is the wine even though not. It does not matter. Still shivering he. Of the fatigue, the emotion, shame.

Than he hears the earth orbits the sun. The stairs Tirza He is going to look at. She has the cello. She drags him. As if it were a beast, a recalcitrant cow which should to the slaughter. They will pass without her father to watch him. They put the cello in the living room.

He looks in the opening of the door with the empty glass in his hand how it will do so.

Another time she goes to the top. She is coming back with the music stand and sheet music. Install them all for the window. She picks the cello bow response.

'Are you sure you want to do this?' she asks.

He nods.

'This is what makes you happy?'

He nods back.

'Sit down," she says. The bow in the stop.

And He whispers: 'Elgar, that you could well, that you also played on the music school. Elgar. It was nevertheless Elgar?'

He knows the self not more. He shall take place on the ground. Between the remnants of the feast, between sticky rice grains and chunks of gherkin from a foot are flown.

There are no more. Little is more. The money he explains on the coffee table.

She agrees the cello.

'Papa," she says. 'You're not good point. Is that hereditary?'

'hereditary?'

'I? Should I be afraid that I just as word as you? Should I be afraid that i love word?'

Then begins to play them.

Her shoulders and upper arms are visible, and one of its bra straps.

He looks at her and he remembers everything. He is a shivering body that hear music are daughter sees and everything reminds. And while a ship's steward listening to the music and to his youngest daughter looks for him, for him and for him only, he starts for the first ask why food hurts so much.

Why the actually always so much pain has done.

Not all life. There are people who are not affected. Many have not affected. Presumptuous life. He has thought of everything she does not always thoroughly, but never about pain. That was something for sissies, he had always found. And now he is there for the first time involved, discerns he still somewhat reluctantly. Disgust.

He had everything he has now received nothing more. Even when he had everything, did the pain.

Of the existence he recalls an uncomfortable silence, a rigid dexterity, a nerve pull, a barely suppressed desire. The Eternal need under all circumstances to come over to civilized.

This means Tirza on playing.

They shall submit to the cello down carefully. As you a baby in bed captures those on your arm is asleep. In the hope that he will continue to sleep.

She is on, they get about her father, which is on the ground is just a child that is not yet on a seat or bench seat can sit.

'take it,' he says.

'What?'

They remain stationary. She looks down. There she sees her father, its old father, which may not be children had to begin if disaster him not had forced, as he himself so like used to say: the fate in the form of a woman.

He has done for others. His children, the house, the renting of the upper floor are course, maintaining the home of his parents, also after their death. And that he never that reference work on expressionist poets wrote, also that he has done for others. A life lived for others. On the assumption that you are the only then alive, if you for others it, nothing you as self-catering individual. Have enough on yourself, have enough to your work, have enough to Schiphol, that is the real shame.

'The money. Take it.'

She looks to the notes on the coffee table.

'take it,' he repeats, 'Tirza, you have played. Please, contact the. I have promised you.'

He sees that they hesitates.

He does not dare itself. It is all of her. It is located on the coffee table. They must also tackle the only. That is all. Only suits.

'take it, Tirza,' he says. 'take it well. For you and Mohammed Atta, if you are in Africa.'

'Choukri.'

'Choukri. Also good. For you and for those of you who Choukri once again want to eat.'

She shakes her head.

'We do not go to Africa to enjoy going out to eat papa.'

'You can almost everywhere good food, also in Africa.' He remembers how he suffered an hour or twelve in the kitchen was to the raw fish to cut.

'Please,' he whispers, 'Please, my solar queen.'

They bending itself.

She picks the money. Then run away.

He wants to do something already fleeing her, he wants to say something, but the only thing it is to mind: 'Goodnight.'

He hears her footsteps.

'Goodnight, Tirza,' he calls. 'goodnight. It was a nice party.'

He rubs on his head. He still shivering. If a sick.

'You have played so beautifully,' he whispers.

From the hallway calls on them gently: 'Sleep tasty, PAP.'

He hears her to run up and down stairs.

Ship's steward will still sit back as he was. Then he goes to the cello. He tries to lift up on the music stand.

The attempt failed.

The music stand is now on him, or better said: he is located under the music stand. Not able to stand, or even to move in this direction.

As he continues to lie, he has no idea how long. He realizes only after a time that he will go to the feet of his daughter looks. Tirza's feet. A few minutes, maybe longer.

They are exhausted its hands, she pulls him up. With difficulty. It certainly seems to reluctantly.

He loves her.

Whether it.

Because he is likely to fall.

Finally he is back on two legs, as a man. As a host, supported by his youngest daughter.

'You're so dirty, papa," she says. 'You're so horrible dirty.'

They coast him on his nose, his cheek, his forehead.

They are almost as large, father and daughter.

He lispelt a word, but she seems to him not to mean. Five or six times he must repeat for he sees that the to her by calls.

'Solar Queen,' he says. 'Solar Queen. Sun Queen.'

They do not let him loose, afraid if they seems to be that he will topple, that he will no longer be able to stand up, even with its aid.

And now lispelt ship's steward anything other than that one word. He has a question, he has finally found a question for the solar queen. No opinion, no cheesy joke, no practical application or they would like to let us know how she comes home, no, a real question.

'Solar Queen, why does everything so'n pain? Why does everything so very much pain?' he lispelt in her ear.

They say nothing. She shakes her head gently. The only answer she gives is that they are continuing to hold a ship's steward, in the living room, in addition to the cello and the cases music standard, while the light slowly.

They also can not. Release.

It is in the family.

On sunday evening in the third week of July will Tirza with her boyfriend from Frankfurt to Wind Angle fly. The ticket of Air Namibia is the cheapest that has been able to find them. First it was they plan per train to Frankfurt to travel, but a ship's steward has its convinced that the faster and more cozy as he taking her with the vehicle. And if they are still together a weekend in the cottage in the Betuwe, it is welcome. A weekend in the Betuwe, that is only a decent start of a trip around the world. And a nice farewell. Once all really together. Well, all, the wife does not of course. She is not invited, and IBI is long weather in France, in the inn with its dark man.