Pedro Lenz - Naw Much of a Talker

Anyway: ah ask oor visitor dis he know anythin aboot the hoose an’ it turned oot Valentin knew it aw. Ivry-fuckin-thing.

He tellt us how some guy hid it built, who left the village aroon 1880 fur Cuba an’ then Puerto Rico. That wis how a loatae auld folk in the village still cawed the hoose the American hoose. In the Caribbean, the guy made shitloads ae cash, nay cunt knew exactly how, word hid it but he’d started as an errand boy furra gunsmith, then worked his way up in the arms trade. When Cuba became independent in 1898, business wisnae sae guid any mair, least: naw if ye wur tryin tae make money as a Spaniard. That didnae matter tae this rich cunt but, he’d enough pit by as it wis. Thanks tae the Spanish-Cuban War, he’d made a total fuckin fortune. So he came back here, tae his hame village, an’ swore he’d build the best an’ maist beautiful hoose in the village so aw the moanin gits — who thought he wis capable ae fuck-aw when he left fur Cuba when he wis young — wid finally realise he wisnae the failure they thought he wis, but the exact opposite.

An’ cos the priest hid been the biggest moanin git, he bought a nice bit ae land, right next tae the chapel, so the first thing the holy fuckin joe wid see ivry mornin wis his fuckin hoose.

Well done him! ah said. Ah like this guy. If ye ignore the arms trade bit, at least.

Valentin went oan wi his story. Aw the palm trees an’ exotic plants hid been brought back fae the Caribbean by this guy, an’ even the architecture: a real Cuban hid designed the hoose fur him, Colonial style, the features wur aw original an’ very expensive.

When the hoose wis finished, he married the maist beautiful girl in the village an’ they’d a bunch ae beautiful weans.

Eftir that, he nivver lifted a finger again. Fur decades, he done nuthin except play billiards, go fur a walk, hiv a shave at the barbers, hiv his chauffeur drive him roon in a huge Yankie ride an’ blow the money he’d made in Cuba. That wis the diffrince tae the rich ae today — cos nooadays, nae cunt pits in as much graft as the really rich, aw they entrepreneurs an’ industrialists an’ mega managers who hiv long since made their billions, still jet aroon the world but, like overexcited ants, workin sixty- tae seventy-oor weeks tae continue gettin richer until, literally, they drap fuckin deid.

The guy fae this hoose but hidnae made that mistake. Naw, he’d hid it pretty cushy, hid taken it easy an’ watched his weans grow up. The trees an’ aw. An’ cos he lived tae be relatively auld, he managed tae blow pretty much aw that money cos when he finally died an’ the young yins wantit tae share oot whit he’d left tae them, there wis nuthin but debts. That’s how they hid tae sell the hoose. Aboot 1940, that wis, so naw lang eftir the Spanish Civil War.

Then a German bought the hoose, some Nazi or ither who’d hid summit tae dae wi Franco. There wis a loat ae folk like that, in Spain back then. Folk didnae talk very much at the time aboot that kinda stuff, an’ if they did, they kept it very quiet. It wis still the same nooadays, by the way. The hoose hid belonged tae the family ae that Nazi, first tae the wan son an’ then the grandweans, until wee Stofer bought it there. They’d pit the hoose oan the market cos, in recent years, they’d hardly ivver used it, an’ cos ae hoo much it wid cost tae dae it up, even hawf-decent. Furra long time, nae cunt wantit it. They wur askin too much fur it.

Then, wan day, this Swiss guy turned up an’ looked sharp an’ bought it. He hid some notary come here fae Santander, quick chat, new entry in the land register, money oan the table an’ muchas gracias. Valentin knew aw this in such detail, he said, cos he’d been intristit himsel. Naw, he did, he knew aboot properties an’ stuff an’ hid known right away the German family wis askin way over the odds.

Naw amigo, ah went. He wis probably mistaken oan that yin. Cos see this hoose, it hid belonged tae an uncle ae wee Stofer, an’ Stofer wis someone ah knew well. An’ when this uncle died recently there, he’d left the hoose tae wee Stofer, presumably cos he’s nae weans ae his ain.

Nae fuckin way, Valentin said. Ah knew the German owners personally an’ in the last ten year, nane ae them died. They kidnae afford the upkeep jist ae the Nazi grandfaither’s hoose. End of.

Odd, ah then say tae Regula. Extremely odd. Oor Stofer, wee Stofer, ae aw the runners in Oberaargau he’s the wan, sad cunt that he is, that’s aye tryin tae cadge a fag, a beer or a few francs aff ye, yet he kin turn up in a Spanish village, say hi ivrywan, then: check that oot, a lovely villa, ah like that, whit yis askin fur it? Hawf a million, nae borra, there ye go, take it, naw it’s fine like that, jist keep the change, bye fur noo an’ thanks, eh.

Mibbe Stofer’s a sly wee cunt an’ jist let oan he’d fuck-aw. The rich kin teach ye how tae save awright, Regula reckons.

Come aff it! If wee Stofer sees even a five-franc piece, it takes five minutes, max, fur that five-franc bit tae be turned intae rid wine an’ vanish. Listen, Regi, ah’ll gi’e ye an example so ye know whit a tube Stofer is:

Right, afore ah done time in the Joke, ahd this flat fur a while in Aarwangenstrasse. Stofer wis livin in Niederbipp at the time. Dont ask me how Niederbipp, ae aw places, he wis livin oot that way anyhow. Think aboot it: it’s mair than an oor by bike fae the Fog. If yir lamp’s too well-oiled anyhow. An’ then, wan evenin in the Spanish Club, the booze wis indeed flowin, nae shortage ae it, an’ he’d hid too much cognac or whitivver.

Fuck me, he gi’es it, ma heid’s totally spinnin. Oan some kinda high, ah am. Ah dont feel like goin back tae Niederbipp thenight. Kin ah kip at yours, Goalie?

Ahm like that: Nae bother. Ahm goin hame tae ma bed thenoo but. He but, he wantit tae sit oan fur a while. Kid he jist show up at mine later? So ah tellt him the hoose number an’ explained: second flair, left-haun door, door wid be open, an’ he kid crash oan the couch jist, ahd leave a blanket oot fur him, an’ nane ae his fuckin crap, thank-you-very-much. So ah take masel aff hame. Wee Stofer carried oan drinkin at the Spanish Club meanwhile. Probably moved oan tae some ither place too.

Next mornin, ah get up an’ go tae see is he still in the land ae nod. Ma sofa’s got naebody oan it but, there’s nae sign ae wee Stofer. Aha, ah think tae masel, he didnae come, he found somewhere else tae kip. Fine by me.

An’ when ah see the cunt in the village naw long eftir that, ah ask where he slept then, last Saturday night.

Where d’ye think? At yours, Goalie. As agreed. Thanks again, by the way.

Whit d’ye mean ‘at mine’? Ye wurnae at mine.

Naw, ah wis. Course, ah wis. Ah done exactly whit ye tellt me, such an’ such a number, third flair oan the left, door wis open so in ah went an’ crashed oan the sofa, oot fur the coont right away ah wis.

Whit d’ye mean ‘third flair’? Second flair, wee man, second flair oan the left. Didnt ah tell ye: second flair, left!

Fuckin shit, wee Stofer goes, ah musta slept aw night in some ither cunt’s flat, some cunt ah dont even know. Who the fuck lives above ye, Goalie?

Ye see, Regi, that’s the kinda guy Stofer is, cannae tell the diffrince between two an’ three, yet manages tae get through life.

Ah dont believe it, she goes. Valentin an’ aw asked: wis that aw true?

Course it is. Whit ur yis thinkin?

Incredible, she said. That’s got nowt tae dae wi the hoose but. Mibbe Stofer’s uncle didnae leave him an actual hoose, but a smaw fortune? Regula — ah kid tell — wis makin a final attempt tae find a logical explanation fur the hale situation. Ye kid see but she didnae believe it hersel.

If he’d been left money, he’d hiv said so, an’ naw spelt oot how his uncle hid left him the hoose. Naw, Regula, there’s only wan reasonable explanation fur this: Stofer isnae clean an’ there’s summit naw-clean aboot this hoose an’ aw.