Don't Kill Anyone, I Love You by Boris Pintar & Gojmir Polajnar

Author:Boris Pintar & Gojmir Polajnar [Pintar, Boris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boris Pintar
Published: 2011-03-05T20:00:00+00:00

9

Acall from Jurij’s number. Dr. Pokrajculja flinched. “Hello, Aga! Jurij here. Do you have some time for me this evening?”

“Yes.” “Great! Let’s go to Dot’s show. She’s back in style again.”

“What if we see each other tomorrow? I have something to finish up.”

“Dot only sings on Fridays. You have to see her.”

“I would rather see you.”

“I’m going to a rave tomorrow. You don’t like those.”

“Okay. Where should we meet?”

“I’ll come by at nine.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Take care of yourself! Let’s get wild!”

Agata was ready at eight. She had put on a tight, dark dress made by a famous designer. The dress was cut short above the knee, was squeezed by a belt to emphasize her hips and chest, and was bare at the shoulder. With her dark hair tied back and her barely visible makeup, she was truly seductive. She would be able to contend with the young people. For jewelry, she wore only a tiny chain with a small diamond that glittered like a star. In high school, Agata had been the most beautiful punk-rock girl. She had had white skin, her eyes and mouth had been edged with black, her hair had been arranged in stiffened peaks. She still remembered the night she had spent in jail after the police had caught them drawing crosses on the facades of buildings. Her father had come in the morning to take her home. She had been grounded for a whole week. They had fought for the right to speak, had been destructive, but couldn’t see what it was that they wanted to build. She couldn’t miss with the blue velvet. Now, as if she were a young girl, Jurij honked his horn in front of the house for her to come out. Only the older ones brought flowers to the door. She dropped the idea of having some brandy and put her overcoat over her shoulders. Jurij opened the door of the car for her, and she checked to see if he had gotten a glimpse of her ankles. He drove quickly. At the corner she leaned her head on his shoulder. He put on Dot’s old hits, which Agata knew by heart. At the cafe, they got a table at the back in an intimate location. She ordered juice, hoping that Jurij would do the same, but he ordered a beer. When Dot came on stage, dressed in red, with a platinum wig and aggressive make-up, she was greeted with an enthusiastic wave. Jurij stood up and applauded. Dot blew him a kiss with her hand, although she didn’t see his face.

“We’re old friends.” He sat back down next to Agata and took a long drink of beer, into which a Superman had been crushed. Dot sang her usual repertoire of love songs and folk tunes and ended with some Partisan songs.

Hey, brigadiers, make haste!

Chase them off, burn them out,

The holes of the White Rats, the Black Dogs! Hey, machine gun, sing!

Let it echo everywhere,

Our greetings from the forest of freedom! 13

“Let’s go congratulate her.

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