Love and Obstacles by Aleksandar Hemon

Love and Obstacles by Aleksandar Hemon

Author:Aleksandar Hemon
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.
Published: 2009-12-10T16:32:20.750000+00:00


“That museum, it creeps me out, man,” Szmura said, shuddering. “Why the fuck would Bo go there?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe it reminds him of home. Maybe he gets cozy with the old Mayska.”

“Maybe you can write a nice story about that one day,” Pumpek said. “Right now, you gotta deal.”

“I don’t understand those people. That old fucking bitch has lived in this country for fifty fucking years, and all she talks about is our people and the famine and Disney and fucking Ukraine,” Szmura said.

“Deal,” Pumpek said.

“It is heartbreaking,” I said. “All that sorrow.”

“Yeah, sure. What it is is dick-breaking,” Szmura said. “You know what the Uke anthem is? ‘Ukraine Hasn’t Died Yet.’ Hasn’t fucking died yet! Well, let it die, man. This is America, not a psychiatric, you know, facility.”

“Deal,” Pumpek said.

I dealt, to Szmura and Pumpek and the two realtor guys, who said nothing, all gambling ice and calculation. One of them kept shuffling his chips while staring straight at me, obviously (and foolishly) designating me as the sucker. The other stood up and got himself a beer. I realized they were brothers.

“I am worried about Bo,” Szmura said. “I want him to start living in America, stop living in the past. Those old vampires are not good for him. And he’s not even from Ukraine, he is from fucking Basnia. I’m gonna take him under my wing. We gotta integrate him in this society.”

“ ‘Integrate,’ ” the brother with the beer said all of a sudden. “Where’d you learn such a fancy word?”

And so Szmura took Bogdan under his vulture’s wing. He gave him impromptu lessons in American history: he made him admire the big balls that graced the groins of the Founding Fathers; he narrated in several installments the great epic of saving the world from the freedom-hating menace (Vietnam, Grenada, the Gulf); he encouraged him to watch television to appreciate the richness of American culture; he painted the vast canvas of capitalism in a few simple strokes: free market, free enterprise, money in the bank.

One day, he invited Bogdan to sit in on a business meeting he was going to have with an acquaintance. Perhaps Bogdan was truly excited to learn something at the Szmura Institute of Integration, but more likely it was much too complicated for him to say no. Besides, Szmura had offered to let him sleep, on weeknights, on the Puerto Rican couch.

“All I want you to do,” Szmura said, “is to sit there and say nothing. If I start going after the guy, or grab him by the neck, stop me. I want you to stop me.” He installed Bogdan in the Puerto Rican, put a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the center of the coffee table, and a bowl of cherry tomatoes next to it. He told Bogdan that the guy who was coming over needed a favor and that it was hard for him to say no, “ ’cause the guy’s father is the mayor of Bolingbrook.”



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