2 - Jonah
2
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Jonah
Two days later, I was running along the Limmat, a river that flows across the city, and the conversation with Lucien was still buzzing around in my mind. Why exactly did he laugh at me? Is it because I have no experience with women, or because I grew up without a television?
Where I came from, it didn’t matter if you were a late bloomer; the village was small, and the nearest town was far away, which meant the choices of finding a partner were limited. What’s more, my parents kept telling me that this would save me a lot of problems. I was no longer sure whether they were talking about television or intercourse.
Lucien had seen through me, and it was time to make a change. Nothing better than that. I hadn’t just come to Zurich hoping to have a great time at university––I wanted to meet women, enjoy life, and go out with friends. But Martin had not only warned me about Lucien, but also about the people here in general. I didn’t know what he was trying to protect me from, but I couldn’t wait to meet new people.
Maybe I’ll meet someone I can go to Mass with on Sundays. If that someone is also a woman, then that would be perfect.
Since I’d been in Zurich, I’d kept asking myself what it felt like to kiss a woman and wondered how I’d managed not to think about it. Sometimes I even caught myself toying with the idea of relaxing the strict basic values I had been drilled into at home. Why wait until marriage? What was wrong with looking for a girlfriend now that relatives were far away? The prospect of broadening my horizons had been one of the reasons I had escaped the constraints of home.
When Martin left our village four years ago to become a doctor, he had said goodbye forever. At the time, I could hardly believe my ears. How could he just disappear like that? Sometime later, I wished I could summon up the courage to take such a step. I had become more and more aware of how dependent I was on my parents. And that hadn’t changed to this day––after all, they were paying for my studies and hoped that I would return to the farm afterward with my newfound knowledge.
With firm resolve, I cast aside the lingering thoughts. I had come a long way and studying at ETH was my ticket out into the world––and into a new life. I would make the most of this opportunity because my freedom wouldn’t last as long as I studied. And the carousel of thoughts continued. Would a good job be enough to convince my parents that I wouldn’t return? Or maybe a wife?
I walked under the Kornhaus Bridge and stopped. Overnight, someone had stuck several bright blue flyers on the wall. An elderly couple and two boys with skateboards stood in front of the wall, and I approached with interest to read what was written on the flyers.
“Love
Marry
Work
Produce
Children
Money
Peace
Be good
Be smart
Be successful
And ignore how it crushes you”
The thought of rebelling against my parents’ expectations suddenly warmed my heart. Oh yes, I was ready to take my life into my own hands and embark on this adventure. I felt a tingle of excitement in my body and anticipation for something I couldn’t even put my finger on. It was exactly what I wanted. I wanted love! I wanted to get married and start a family! I wanted to live a peaceful and happy life in freedom! But my parents kept me on a tight leash, and I wasn’t allowed to do what I wanted. That had to change.
I realized that the author likely intended an entirely different interpretation with those lines, eluding my understanding. Nonetheless, with determination, I tore a sheet off the wall, folded it neatly, and stowed it into my jacket pocket.
Feeling energized, I ran back home, up five flights of stairs, and straight into the kitchen. Martin was standing at the stove in front of a pot of boiling water, opening a package of spaghetti.
“Look at this!” I said and put the sheet of paper on the table. “I found this by the river.”
It was only then that I noticed Lucien was here too. I greeted him in a friendly manner, but he didn’t give me a glance. Instead, he lit a cigarette, took a quick look at the leaflet, and then looked out of the window, uninterested. What’s wrong with this guy?
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Martin said, taking the leaflet in his hand. “You can take a shower first if you want.”
“I’ll hurry,” I replied and left the two of them alone.
As the water poured down on me, I wondered how much alcohol can change a person. I didn’t even have experience with that! Lucien had been pretty drunk when we first met. Although I questioned the authenticity of his kindness, I preferred it to being ignored. Martin had warned me about Lucien, but I didn’t think much of it. Lucien giving me the cold shoulder unsettled me a little. But we didn’t really know each other yet, and maybe a house dinner would help. After my refreshing shower, I returned to the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Martin asked Lucien as he set a bowl of salad on the table. “Have you been pulling an all-nighter again?”
Lucien blew out the smoke and took a sip of beer. “Only two more days,” he mumbled. “I’m in the final stages.”
I sat down in my new seat, diagonally across from Lucien, and leafed through a magazine beside me. But it was useless. Every third page was missing and the rest were torn up.
“Were you able to organize the transport?” Martin asked him, draining the pasta water.
“Yes.” Lucien stroked his hair, revealing dark circles under his eyes. “Steven’s coming back with his uncle’s van.”
“Ah, that’s handy. That was the glassmaker, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Lucien replied, looking out of the window once again, lost in thought. “Are you coming too?”
I would have loved to know what it was about, but my gut told me that this wasn’t the right time to ask. There was something about Lucien that made me feel unwanted. But maybe he’s just tired. Martin placed his heavy hand on my shoulder. “Of course! And I’ll bring the newbie with me.”
I was so startled that I winced. Martin chuckled with amusement and looked at me with his deep blue eyes. “So, how are your studies going? Have you got off to a good start?” Whenever Martin inquired about something, he always sounded very interested, as if he wanted to understand the person he was talking to. Even though we had known each other our whole lives, his probing left me feeling self-conscious. I let my gaze wander between his dark, bushy eyebrows so that I didn’t have to look him straight in the eyes. And if that didn’t help, I searched his otherwise impeccable chestnut brown hair for a loose strand. But there wasn’t one.
“Uh, yes … everything’s fine,” I replied and glanced at Lucien.
He took a drag on his cigarette and stared out of the window again. He didn’t even move when Martin put a full plate in front of him and sat down at the table with us.
I folded my hands dutifully and bowed my head to say the table prayer in silence. Then I thanked Martin for the food. He was already holding his fork and forcing himself to smile while Lucien transfixed his eyes on me. It was almost scary the way he pierced me with his gaze.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, reaching for the grated cheese.
Without saying a word, Lucien dropped the cigarette in the ashtray and finished his beer. He then picked up his fork and started eating. Martin grinned and turned to his plate. The situation irritated me. After all, Martin and I had grown up together and he had made no attempt to pray at all. “Why did you stop saying the table prayer?” I asked.
“I haven’t stopped,” he replied calmly. “I just don’t do it in front of others anymore.”
“But that’s …”
He immediately raised his fork with precision, akin to a surgeon’s scalpel, and aimed it squarely at me. “Don’t say it!” His voice had become a low, menacing growl.
“But …”
“Those aren’t your words, they’re your father’s! So shut up and eat now!”
I stared at Martin with my mouth open. His tone of voice was unusual, and the way he took a sip of water and continued eating was uncharacteristic of him.
The tension in the room became unbearable. I closed my mouth again, swallowed, and looked at my full plate as if it were the only one that could tell me what to do next. Lucien got up and grabbed two beers from the fridge. He kept one for himself and offered the other to Martin, who accepted it with a brief nod of thanks.
I didn’t know Martin like that. What on earth happened to him?