The Misfortunates: A Novel by Dimitri Verhulst

Author:Dimitri Verhulst [Verhulst, Dimitri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: 1250035163
Published: 2020-09-11T03:30:14+00:00

* * *

The drive from Arsendegem to Scheldewindeke was long and above all ugly, but strewn with pubs. We’d only just turned the corner, waving to my elated grandmother like retards in a bus, when my father revealed his plan to get completely shit-faced one last time. The very last time. Really, the very last time and then never, never, never again. Just for the symbolism, the ritual of it, we would honour every pub between Arsendegem and Scheldewindeke with a visit, and my uncles were up for it. Civilization is lost once people lose their respect for ritual. My uncles must have been gratified by the proposal my father put to them, at least partly. Because if my father had realized that he needed help to get off the booze, they could expect to suffer the same insight in the near future. That’s why they were glad to see how greedily my father planted his moustache in the head of his beer that afternoon and relieved to note the gleam in his eye as he tipped the amber fluid down his throat at a rate that could be seen as a sporting achievement. Ten pubs and twice as many beers later, neither my uncles nor my father seemed to remember the purpose of the outing. It was just the usual sociable Saturday, driving from one pub to another. A kind of pilgrimage. In the Blue Bayou they even found time for a game of pool, and somewhere in Wetteren we were kind enough to make up the desired number of players for a game of darts. All as per usual.

It was half past four when it suddenly became necessary to resort to violence to round off a discussion in the Station, and our Girder was about to take the duty upon himself when my father said, ‘Guys, it’s gone half four. It’s time.’

He was serious. He had drunk his last glass of beer without any kind of theatricality. We hadn’t even seen him drink it, let alone taken a photo of the historic moment. Father with glass. Always good for a laugh later as the portrait on his headstone.

Of course, our Girder would have much rather stayed in the pub for the fight he himself had provoked, and we were forced to endure the shame of being called cowards for leaving just when the challenged giant had taken off his jacket to lay into him. You didn’t do that, scarper when it was time for a punch-up. We didn’t do it. We let a perfect opportunity to permanently establish our name and reputation in Wetteren slip, climbed into the car indignantly and drove without a word to Scheldewindeke, pulling into the drying-out clinic’s car park at ten to five.

THE PILGRIM PSYCHIATRIC CLINIC it said.

‘Is this it, P.?’

‘This is it!’

‘But that’s a psychiatric clinic. That’s for loonies.’

‘This is it, I tell you. Fucking believe me once in your fucking life!’

We gaped at the immense building that must have started out

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.