Arnon Grunberg - Tirza

What could I do? He had a page of the Koran in his mouth, Mohammed Atta, if a circus beast. He did not dare agree to swallow it. He does not. kauwde Staring at me. If a monkey. "Where is Allah," I asked? "Where is the Prophet? Why are they not come to you to help? You may not have enough, you may not have enough surrender prayers? Call up yet again. Allah, call on him but, call on him as you dog calls that get lost in the park. Let us call him, Atta, perhaps he comes when we call him. Perhaps it was a bit deaf." And you know what he said, you know what he replied to that page of the Koran even in his mouth? "I am Mohammed Atta did not. I am Mohammed Atta did not." "Of course," I said, "you will not say that you are Mohammed Atta Of course you would use an alias. Who has the courage to admit that today he is Mohammed Atta?" Then I did the MS 170, and once that is turned on, then you hear little more, no prayers, no votes, actually no roar, then you hear only the MS 170, that is a kind of music. Above that music I cried out, "Call again, Atta. Call again very hard to Allah. Perhaps he understood you not because of your accent. Perhaps it is Allah also on holiday." But Atta said nothing more. And then I cut him, as a fruit tree. If a diseased fruit tree with all dead branches. The left-hand side first and then the right side, and then the bottom and all the way to the end of the top. The MS 170 is a compact saw, but he goes through everywhere. That is why amateur gardeners just love him. He is also economical in use.'

He turns around. The manual now rests on the back of their heads.

'Kaisa,' he whispers, 'Kaisa. My Kaisa. I crops in the kitchen, as best they went, and my clothes clean brushed and a shirt attracted that still of my father had been. Because my own shirt was not more clean. It was dirty. Then I go get food in the village. A rice table. A small rice table for 3 people. With extra Prawn Chips. And i have that rice table all the way in my own eaten. I had such a hunger, such a frantic hunger i had, some trays i empty slick. Kaisa, you also have sometimes such a hungry? I then a pit dug into the garden. I am the whole night. I had no time for two pits. And I have the children were put, I have dragged them there i must say, with my last strength. The solar queen in its entirety, the other in chunks. As you of the remnants of the cuts in the coarse dirt anywhere. And then I slammed the codend. I have the garden is so beautiful made possible, he was still of my parents. And when I first myself then washed and the MS 170 cleaned and then the House, because everywhere was the juice of the fruit tree to find. Everywhere I and leaves of the foodplant had forgotten to stop in the codend. You do not know who Atta was, you do not know what he would have done with us if he had had the chance. And when everything was clean, everything was to side, only the Koran was on the table. And that I started to read. There was only one page torn. I am a curious person. I could not sleep. There are some interesting things in it. 'truly have the owners of the garden on that day is a joyful pastime,' I read. Such things. And I thought: that I am, I am the owner of the garden. But the MS 170 is stronger than Allah, stronger than God also, more powerful than Jesus. The Stihl MS 170 is the ruler, Kaisa, our ruler. And all that while I thought, I felt nothing. To ensure the most practical things. Or the house, but was really clean. Or I had forgotten nothing. I do not have slept, just gedommeld, and in the morning i have breakfast made for three people. I shaved and the zalfje used against my dry skin against dander. And then I went to the airport of Frankfurt driven. And I have the children waved goodbye, until I saw them anymore.

Now you know who I am, and why I am here. Because I Tirza search, while I know that they will never has been. But the strange thing is, there are moments when I doubt. That I know for sure. I think: it was all a game, a game in my own main. I guess they are nevertheless to Namibia has flown Atta, that I am not the things recall correctly. I can not imagine that I shall never see Tirza. It is crazy but for many years I have had a vague inkling that I was a sample, a beast. And when i finally confirmed that suspicion, I could not believe it. In the past, when I was young, when I played with my wife, we played that I was the beast that at night by the Vondelpark was puttering at. To all this I am here in Namibia, Kaisa, to disappear to resolve, because I can no longer. Perhaps that is the definition of the game that you can always go back to whom you were for the game began. But I can not go back. I am cut off from whom I was, Kaisa. I am for you without a future, without the past, neutral if a banknote. A Westerner, one of the many, lost in his own life. They say they spirituality search, or rest or something else, but they are all the same mean Kaisa disappear. I WANT… I like you say how nice it is to speak with you. Your Pet is… you company is important for me. People have company needed for they disappear.'

He is now saying nothing more, but he could not sleep. It is located in the desert, feel the warmth of the child, dig in its memory and taste the flavor of old wine in his mouth. There is nothing monsterlijks to him. Everything monstrous to him, is buried in its memory. He is there as a child.

Stiff ship's steward awake. He also continues to lie and gives Kaisa. It is seven hours in the morning.

In the hut he takes a shower, a short, because he wants Kaisa also have some hot water. Then elongates he.

At breakfast asks the Frenchman or they want to participate in an excursion. 'like' says ship's steward, 'de desert we want to see the dunes.'

'I will be a separate excursion organise for you,' says the Frenchman, 'because you have a child with you. Most people without children here. At half past three Elago will pick you up.'

'Dank you,' says ship's steward.

'No thank you,' says the Frenchman. He seems to want to drain off, but he remains in place. 'It is born here?' he asks. He points to the child. Ship's steward nods and than nods the Frenchman, as also the answer he was expecting. And as if he were already knew. 'If you still need something, and o, for I forget it, we have your car clean painted, the luggage will be brought to your hut.' The Frenchman goes to the following table.

Ship's steward looks after him. A friendly man in a Khaki trousers. Who knows what he was in France. What he has done.

They spend the day on the edge of the small swimming pool. Occasionally the child there with her feet. But they do not dare to swim or they can not swim.

Ship's steward is located on a chair, he has his shirt open knotted, he refuses the all the way out.

To half a long, 3 black man to ship's steward. Elago.

The jeep has been converted and extended. The chairs are set down as a tribune, so you over the heads of the people for you to enjoy the views.

But there are no other people. The ship's steward, Kaisa, and Elago.

They drive away, first slowly and then faster and faster. Elago talk much and makes jokes that rather bland, but where a ship's steward of courtesy to laughs.

The desert is constantly changing of color, the desert is becoming increasingly more reddish.

Stones are here not or hardly. Only sand, and some bare shrubs.

'If you are coming from the nearby?' requires a ship's steward if they are stopped in the event of a dune. Press the Silence heavy on him.

'I come from the north of the country,' says Elago. 'Dear is also my family.'

'And go often?'

'We work three months, then we have three weeks. About two weeks i back.'

They drive another piece of further. In the event of two high dunes they stop. 'It is Big Daddy,' says Elago, 'and that is Big Mama. Big Mama is slightly less high than Big Daddy, but the view is the same.' He please wait. 'If you want to top, if you want to Big Mama, still going to be here with the child. Here are normally more people around sunrise which. But now it is quiet. The dune is completely of you.'