Arnon Grunberg - Tirza

She shakes her head. 'No," she says with a mouth full of ice cream.

'They're not worried? She does not want that you come home? You are of course also a large meid.'

And while his glass jar, considering he cognac that you indeed have to learn that there might be a certainly must have a talent for, die.

He is on, helps the child from the seat. She picks up his hand.

As each evening he walks to the output.

As each evening says the staff: 'Good evening, Mr ship's steward.'

But despite all of the medication which he has swallowed, he sees that they look different than other evenings. He is in their eyes become another. He is no longer the man searching for his daughter, now he is the man who are looking for some fun specially. He has sought and he has found it.

And yet it is not true, he would like to declare. He would like to say: 'It is not what you are thinking.'

In the vicinity of the reception it will remain. 'Well,' he says, 'it was a nice evening. I do not know where you need to go where you live, but I can call taxis for you.'

In Africa makes the night noises. Everywhere he hears insects. Unfortunately he knows little of insects.

Above the reception depends a electro cute machine for small, flying scum. Each time a flight is getting fried, crackles the machine cozy.

'Where is your home?' he asks. 'Is the far, Kaisa?'

They do not leave his hand. While now is the time for release. He should go to bed. Sleep. Sleep for the die.

'Living in Windhoek?'

She seems not to hear him. Just as he looks they now to the electro cute machine for the flying scum. 'Do you want company, sir?' she asks, push of a first with less conviction.

His gaze remains also rest on the machine that are above the entrance to the reception depends. Then he looks at the child. 'No, no,' he says. 'But if you want you can keep you sleep. If it is too late to go home.'

He puts his hat off, wipe on his forehead. Wind Angle is high, 1700 meters. It cools pleasantly. In the evening and I think he is hot.

'It does not matter,' he says, 'if you want to sleep. It is a double room. I do not know what they think of us. But what they think of us makes you, I do not believe in and i do not actually. I am a strange here. It has long been something decided what the people of me thought, because you are what people think of you. But here, now, in this country? I am a tourist. What can they expect me?'

They walk hand in hand to the room.

He shall do the lights on, depends his hat.

They are going to sit on the same seat on which they have already been sat.

'Yes,' he says, 'Are we then.' He does also the lights in the bathroom.

'You certainly don't toothbrush with you?' he asks. 'No, you have nothing at all to you. That is the youth. Goes off staying. Does nothing. Carefree. Time, though. I had also often Tirza of chasing everything when they remained somewhere staying. You can borrow my toothbrush is, I will give him good for your cleaning.'

He holds his toothbrush under the tap and looks, while his teeth cleaning brush, to the child.

They sit there motionless.

'I,' he says.

He beckons her.

They are hesitant to him. He does toothpaste on the toothbrush. He kneels down and he brushes her teeth. Although his toothbrush is a bit too large for its teeth.

It has been a long time ago that he has done, but he is not forgotten.

They will open its mouth without question or protest.

He brushes thoroughly.

'Well,' he says, 'that was that. It is important. The teeth.'

He will take her to the bed, he saves the bed open. The side where normal nobody is located.

She has a pajamas necessary. Nude sleep could, but it seems a good idea.

'Wait,' he says.

He runs to the cabinet and retrieves the dress that the wife has purchased for Tirza. Carefully remove the paper, he he returned in the la stops.

'Doe you dress,' he says.

They slips from her dress in a second. He loves her dress Tirza for.

'It is not real pajamas,' he says, "but we have nothing else. You must do something about in the night. The cools down. This is of Tirza.'

With some effort — he has long no children more decorated — he pulls her dress Tirza.

It looks as if they were dressed up has for a party. He shakes his head and needs to be a little smile.

A fancy dress party, it runs off. This trip. His life. Everything.

It stops her in.

In the bathroom clothe himself. He holds his pants. A pajamas also has he does not have to be.

Then he was on its side of the bed.

'Well,' he says, 'sleep tasty.'

She is on her head on the large white cushion. Droll, that is the word that comes up in him as he looks to her.

'Well,' he says, 'we go to sleep. It was a long day.'

She focuses. 'Do you want company, sir?' she asks.

Slowly shakes his head.

'hold on,' he whispers, 'Kaisa, hold on to those nonsense. Not today. It is too late. See i like this? As someone who needs company? No, really not.' He goes past her to her night lamp is off to do so.

'I am not more used to dealing with strangers in one bed,' he says, 'us please forgive me if I restless sleep. I have slept in recent years. To my wife returned. I like this one side of the bed to use as a table on which you submit papers, newspapers, books. But that was not more, when they came back. Goodnight.'

Now he is doing his night light off. He is certainly still awake twenty minutes. Sometimes he keeps his breath to hear or Kaisa sleeps.

In the middle of the night is he woke up. He dreamed of Tirza. They were on the bikes in the Betuwe. His parents lived. He is on, makes light in the bathroom and also on the edge of the bathtub. His thoughts are still not sharp. Vague he recalls that he was a child in bed. He is now just over a week in Windhoek. He tries to remember when he last Tirza's voice heard. That was when he called her and her voice mail received. Soft he begins to speak against it.

'Tirza,' he says, "I am in Windhoek. A strange city, no city more a village. I talk a bit gently, because not only am I.'

At half past nine is he woke up. Kaisa is already awake. They sit upright in bed and looks at him.

"Good Morning,' he says.

He rubs his face. Of the bedside table to pick up his watch.

'It is already late,' he says.

Without showering it attracts some clothes.

'Keep you often logeren?' he asks.

More quiet.

'or you often remains in people staying?'

"Yes," she says.

'You can of course continue to have breakfast, but then I get started. I am here for my daughter. We are her. Do you know how I call her? The Solar Queen.'

He lifts her out of bed. They did nothing more than to the dingy dress. Caution, afraid if he is the damage that he, he pulls its Tirza's dress.

He picks it back in, commits him in the la and gives her her own dress. She pulls him not to. He is going to sit for her crouches.

'We are going to what breakfasts,' he says, 'You must you dress up.'

She seems to be its nose against those of him to rub, but in the end they press her mouth on to his. He bounces back.

'No, no,' he says, 'That's not necessary. It is not necessary.'

He feels how hot the once again and he smells that clothes that he has attracted a bit smelly. What does it matter? Odour in Africa is something else than stench in the Van Eeghenstraat.

'I need you to dress,' he says. 'We are going to have breakfast.'

Ship's steward withdraws its the dress.

As he continues to sit as if he has forgotten something. 'brushing teeth,' he says, 'doing after breakfast we.'

On the minibar, he sees the photo of Tirza. It stops him in the envelope and the envelope in his pocket. He does this morning but are sandals.

He is running slow with Kaisa to the breakfast buffet that is served on the terrace.