Literary Works of Jakub Namesny

The Veils


´Have your heard about it?´

´What are you talking about?´

´About veils. We have to wear veils´.

´Fuck the veils. My marriage is breaking down´.

´How can you talk about marriage if it is a matter of life?´

Those were the last words of Jaroslav the Brisk, Igor´s colleague. He died of swine flu on 26 February 2010. Igor wrote them down into his book that he has been reading recently. The title of the book was: Rebellion. The main character killed all the swines. He would also like to kill everyone who talked about nothing else but veils. They were sold in different colours, for children with Mickey Mouse and Harry Potter for older ones. Yesterday he saw a few of them with Slovak national symbol at the marketplace. He wore none of them although his wife bought him two in case one was in the washing. Their sexual life got stuck in the same way as medical attempts to get swine flu under control. His wife devoted more time to shopping those damned veils than to him. After lunch in the canteen he definitely decided to deceive his wife with some young chick. He imagined himself somewhere in a pub taking off her flowery veil and licking her lips in the chin to lips direction. He made a burp and left for the stinky loo where he peed smilingly into the urinal.

´Why are you not wearing a veil?´, a young chick with genuinely irritant looking curves turned to him. She could be about 23 years old. Perfectly made for sex.

´I do not need it. The flu affects only pigs´.

She made a loud laugh and let Igor pay for another drink.

´Where have you been?´, asked Igor ´s wife bent over the washing machine.

´By the Jaroslav´s grave. I brought him flowers. It is his anniversary today´. He answered humbly. She stiffened. After a while she resumed taking wet clothes out.

Igor dined with a smile and then went to bed.

He got up on edge in the morning. His body changed into a kind of big jelly. His nose was about half a kilo heavier and his feet must have been weighing at least a ton. His eyes have almost bulged from a massive skull. Fortunately a loud howling and grunting got ahead of them. His wife leaned over him not hiding a malicious smile.

´You did not watch the news yesterday, did you?, What a pity, they were talking about a new virus that has been mutated with swine flu. It is transmitted by a sexual contact with young students. Do not be afraid. It will not kill you. Unfortunately it has got a catastrophic impact on human body that can be transformed into a swine in just one night.´

Igor, changed into a swine, he was grunting and running as if he was crazy. His wife looked up a number in her cell phone and licked her lips.

´Hi David, are you still in the slaughterhouse? You will not believe it! Parents - in – law have brought me a living swine´.




Chocolate Lamborghini


I hate my car. I hated it already when I was buying it. I could have bought only something worth hating for that price. I also hate trains and buses but I hate that car more than my work. Thanks God because otherwise I do not how else I would withstand it. Today that damned car has completely broken down. The engine has stopped working. The oil started leaking a longer period ago. The finance crisis arrived bringing necessary saving hand in hand. I followed the rules of physics: less oil I pour, the less it flows out, and the reason: less it flows out, the less I buy. It did not help me. That is why I hate everyone that says: use reason! My boss says it every day. My wife every week. Thanks God, otherwise I do not know how else I could live with her.

´You should buy a new car.´ A fellow in the service was peeking into my wreck.

´Thank you for advice.´ I answer with a grin that I hate.

´Do you want to take part in our competition?´ Addressed me a kind of cunning shop assistant behind my back.

´What kind of a competition?´ I was not in a hurry so why not to joke with someone?

´You can win a chocolate Lamborghini´. I almost spit the tooth that has been wobbling since Sunday. A chocolate car? Competitions are not the same as they used to be.

´What colour is the car?´ A cunning shop assistant slowly measured me with his eyes.

´I do not understand, sir.´ He tried to look wise.

´I do not enter the competition about the rose car. You understand that?´. I stiffened up.

´It is brown like chocolate´. Of course it is brown if it is from chocolate, thought I.

´What are the conditions of the competition?´ May he does not think that I have just gone out of the maternity hospital. The cunning shop assistant came to life. His cheeks got red and he almost made a smile.

´You will buy at our service a litter of fuelling oil. Today is a deadline of our competition. You better hurry.´ My eyeballs rose up to the eyebrows. If I was the god Perun I would knock him down by lightings. I hate oil since my engine stopped working.

´I am not able to repair this anymore´. I heard voice near my car saying. ´You did not check the level of oil, did you? The engine is dead.´ The serviceman timed it well. Oh, how much I hate him. Automatically I was waiting for the natural reaction of the cunning shop assistant who would discover Antarctica and say: See? If you had bought the oil you would have… and so on. But he stayed quiet. I could not stand him being the master of the whole situation.

´Give me the oil´. I roared.

´P…please?´ Hah! The shop assistant was taken aback.

´What will you do with it?´ Your car is totally broken down.´ Creaked the repairman. He had such twisted moustache that I hated since the first moment. I took out euros and put them into the potential ´s pocket. While doing so I whispered quietly: ´I think I have mentioned oil´. Potential nodded and apparently went to get my oil.

I was sitting at the table at home and looking at the container with oil called Larutan plus. I crossed my hands as if praying. My God, please, let me win that damned chocolate Lamborghini so I do not have to buy anything to my sun for St. Nicholas day. Amen.

To my big surprise the phone started ringing in the morning. At first I looked at the ceiling so God can see my begging eyes that could change into the streams of lava in a minute if they were not calling me about the winning. I have almost had a haemorrhage but on the phone there was really a cunning potential.

The building of Larutan oil was ten minutes from my block of flats. Inside the men in suits were waiting for me, ladies in costumes and the cunning potential in the white shirt. Such clowns, they are strolling in those dear clothes and I will get a car made of Polish chocolate. The only thing that cheered me up was that it would be my son who would eat the chocolate. I did not understand their exaggerated smiles, enthusiastic shaking of my hand and our walk towards the premises of the parking lot. And right there stood a chocolate brown Lamborghini Diablo in which even Elizabeth Hurley was riding her cute bum. The opposite of my wife. I fell down my knees and started kissing it everywhere I could. I was stronger than me. I started crying like my son when I slapped him in the face last time. The cunning potential bent down towards me and whispered: ´Did the chocolate colour touch you to the heart?´

´No,´ said I and touched him by the arm, ´it moved me because I am not sure if you, idiots, have an idea where from I am going to scratch up the bucks on the tax on winning.´



I am not a butterfly


Luke

Something amazing has occurred in his mind.

“Listen to me!”, he yelled out at all the people in this world. Each of the classmates stayed quiet. The teacher did not look delighted. By the way, he has never made any different face except this one. He opened the mouth but his voice stuck somewhere between his neck and head. It was at the time when he was trying through half centimeter glasses of his glasses to concentrate on that daring boy. Everyone who has ever tried to do it knows that it is hard. This is why he had the reason to be upset. Immediately after he managed to concentrate he saw black curly hair, blue eyes, brown jacket, velveteens and trainers that his son used to wear too.

“We are listening to you”, unexpectedly, the words muttered behind pupil’s backs. Those who turned round could see the headmaster leaning on the door casing.

“I am not a butterfly!”, Luke cried out strongly.

“To the headmaster’s office, rascal”, the headmaster roared.


Silvester


“What happened to you?”, the playmate from the basketball team asked Luke. One of the Luke’s corners of the mouth moved until he started smiling. His head was full of everything what had happened in the headmaster’s office. The headmaster leaned his huge body against a big leather sofa and built a roof out of his hands.

“Why are you telling everyone that you are not a butterfly?” The headmaster pretended to be the same as yesterday. There was a hygienic inspection that day and they were given lunch for free.

“What have I done?”, asked Luke.

“Luke!”, the headmaster’s eyes sparkled like the basketball ring. “Why are you telling everyone that you are not a butterfly?!” Luke´s heartbeat was the same as the heartbeat of the honeysucker. He was sorry that he could not fly away.

“If you kept talking that you were a butterfly we would send you to Doctor Slim. Mrs. Slim was a school dentist that is why Luke protested.

“My teeth are healthy”, he said. This time it was the headmaster’s heart that started beating quickly. He was provoked by the feelings that were crawling from his shoes up to the knot on his tie. They were choking him, jumping over his toupee and beating on his temples. These were the feelings that he hated and together with them he hated those who caused them.

“Do butterflies have teeth?”, the headmaster barked out with clenched teeth.

“I am sorry?”, Luke felt how two invisible hands squeezed his neck.

“Do butterflies have ears?”, the headmaster screamed.

“Yes, they do”, answered Luke.

“You will be at the Doctor’s Slim in ten minutes!”. (shrieked the headmaster)


Doctor Slim


She was really slim. Temperamental, a provocatively dressed middle aged woman. She had lunch break. She was smoking by the open window through which she was watching a football match. The headmaster liked her. She could smoke in one of the classrooms and he would pretend not to see it. He has also never heard her temperamental speech when Luke or some other hornmad student opened the door of her kingdom in the breaktime.

“What do you want in here? Get out”

“The headmaster sent me”, said Luke energetically that he almost started giggling.

“Buzz off to the Slovak teacher so she can teach you read.” She made a move with her hand and noticed him no more. Luke fished out a schedule at her door from his memory on which there stood with capital letters: Do not enter during break!!!

“I was told to be there in ten minutes. I managed it in five.”

“And you will get out of here in a minute”, she pointed at the door.


Silvester


“That is a cow”, Silvester spat. His spit hit the surprised bug crossing through the pathway.

“But a nice one”, remarked Luke and sighed.

“Cow like a cow”. Silvester never let others to rebuff him. He was able to make a row for a trivial thing.

“Nice cows can always afford more than ugly ones. They are forgiven anything.”

Luke summed up and dribbled the ball that he grabbed smartly from Silvester´s armpit.

“Susan is a cow too. Even more she is silly.” Silvester got up from the bench and tried to get his ball again.

“You want Susan. She spits upon you. That is all.” Luke told the truth as quickly as Silvester gained the ball again. “You know, she made me teeth once.” Luke bent forward and tried to catch with the lost breath. “She did not have her coat on.”…

“A coat?”, Silvester interrupted him. “Have you ever seen it on her?”

“Actually, you are right; Luke went on, “she was removing plaque from my lower teeth. I was gazing at her bumpers for the whole hour.

“And what?”, Silvester shrugged with his shoulder indifferently.

“And what?”, surprisingly repeated Luke. “I see that you did not see her bumpers.”


Train


In the carriage there was a lost butterly flying about. The flight of a butterfly. It started from the very end of everything that was neverending, it streamed to the depths of imaginary heights. He was swimming in the universe together with the beginning and the end. He rioted with the colours of the canvases, smelling of vanilla at the corners of his mouth and singing for the mute. He loved and wanted to be loved. He described the curves of Doctor Slim´s tights until he modeled bosom out of them that looked like her perfect bum together. If Luke had dreamt more then saliva might have erupted from his mouth and flooded the whole carriage for sure. People would compete, push, and knock down each other to earth’s sticky liquid. Children would cry, women would scream and men would fight together. It would be an interesting way home. If he knew what would happen he would not have bought the ticket. But Luke bought the ticket and that is why he was condemned that day to boring, routine way home by train with boring, sleepy and gloomy faces. The only thing that was smiling or grimacing at him was grey, smelly and spotty sofa with scars made by the pocket knife from the pocket of a pickpocket. He had a fancy for spitting on everything. He detested the train and passengers and in some moments even himself. However, he never detested Doctor Slim. When he recalled her all the disgusting went aside. Why did she not become a teacher? Surely, for her verbal behaviour. If she gave it up she would no longer be so interesting. And she wants to be pretty much exciting. I dare say that even a switch in the hall knew that.


The ball


“I know that I should throw this ball into the basket.” Luke´s eyes were fixed at smoking Silvester and in his hands he was playing with the dusty basketball.

“That is why they enrolled you in the basketball course.” Silvester giggled quietly over his triumph and continued smoking. Luke did not pay any attention to his remarks. He was looking at the ball and examined each detail, scratch or crack.

“I would like to be able to manage it with anything.” He swayed and banged with the orange ball against the concrete surface. The ball immediately bounced against his hands and settled firmly in his clenched palms. “To have it grasped, do you get it?”

“You think of a butterly?”, asked Silvester and wanted to giggle again but if he wanted to avoid the flying ball that was aiming his head he had to act quickly. He fell over into the dust together with a cigarette and smoke. The ball did not notice him at all. It flew again its own way just like Luke´s thoughts except for the small difference that Luke´s thoughts would never hit unaware old man who was calmly walking down by the gym.

“God damn it!”, roared the gramp who was at that moment sorry that those swines took him a submachine gun in the second world war and he could not use it now. “You threw a ball into me!”, full of hatred he pointed with the rubber end of his stick, that he no longer needed, at the scared boy. Luke’s face was flooded with unexpressed compassion and humility. He was so sorry that he did not manage to say a word in favour of his defence and that is why he kept silent.

“Why are you silent?” You silly brat!”, roared the gramp walking towards boys fencing with his stick.

“Mr, it was not on purpose!”, Silvester wake up to life and stood up beside the frozen Luke.

“Do not poke your nose into it!”, said the angry grump as he stood near both boys.

“Would you be happier if we were on drugs?”, asked Silvester and quickly he hid the cigarettes behind his back.

“What the hell are you talking about? What am I to do with it? You are hooligans and will go to jail!”

“We are in Slovakia, Mr,” Silvester stopped giggling in the last moment, “We are playing basketball for school, Mr. The ball somehow slipt away while we were training…

“Do not lie! He threw it at me!, the grump screamed so that they both got scared.

“I am sorry, very sorry”, Luke gathered all the courage to tell the truth. The gramp did not believe them. He looked with an evil eye at them, turned round clumsily and limped away together with his swear words describing all the possible human orifices.

“Why did it happen?”, Luke wagged his head disgustedly. “I would never throw a ball at someone.”

“Do you want a cigarette?”, asked Silvester carelessly.


Coincidence


Luke did not believe in accidents in the same way as he did not believe that the gramp was hit by the ball. It was the matter of the destiny that sent it to him in order not to allow Luke´s awakening, understanding, and discovery of the secret of life. It was on purpose to shock him, discourage him, it should have forced on him the feeling of guilt so he would not have thought any more of the thoughts fished out from the sea of own doubts. It was a dirty trick and the gramp was at the head of it. Why could not he be at the head of something that could convey all the secrets? His sea was not filled only with suspicions, secrets and doubts but it was also overflowed with desires, passions and Doctor Slim.


Agreement


“Are you mad?” Silvester almost dropped the cigarette from his mouth. Evidently he wanted to hear nothing about Luke’s proposal.

“I will let you know by the shout and you will throw the ball into the window.” Luke dribbled the ball a few times and then threw the ball straight into the basket. It flew over the net as the susnstroke over the unaware brain.

“I am not going to throw a ball into any window!”, grunted Silvester.

“Come on…, why? The window will be glassed again anyway, will it not?”

“What will I get if I do it?”, he showed his teeth.

“Her panties?”, Luke smiled a little and scratched behind his head.

“You do not have a chance!”, Silvester jumped, he started showing signs of typical boyish madness. His mouth filled up with salivas and all his limbs started shaking. “It cannot be!”, he shouted. “Do not hurt me!”, he knelt down.

“She goes to the swimming pool after opening hours”, said Luke as if nothing was going on. Silvester went bug-eyed and he might have got out some sound if he was not ashamed. How is it possible that he did not know about it? That dirty dog, Luke! He kept it for himself. Oh my God, the panties of Doctor Slim. “Make it as if you have already had them. You hold them in your hands and alone at home. Luke went on in hurting him and did not want to give up.

“To throw a cretinous ball into the cretinous window?, asked after all Silvester at the edge of despair. Luke looked at him strictly.

“When I shout.”


The panties of Doctor Slim


The panties of Doctor Slim was not a napkin for the fifty cents supermarket grill party. The possibility of getting them made the best friend, leader, Alpha and Omega and a fool out of Luke. The panties was not cheap and to steal them from the middle aged woman was the act worth of punishing. At the same time it was needed to plan it very carefully. It was the own suicide to steal the panties without knowing anything about the characteristics and functions of a female body. He gained a lot of useful information from the girlfriend of his cousin (who for some reason did not wear any panties) e. g. why Doctor Slim is really rude sometimes. In that period it was not worth stealing her panties.


The theft


Luke has a cousin, he has a girlfriend and she, by the chance, was a pretty cow. For her it was not a problem to steal the panties. In fact it made her happy. They both had a brigade at the roofed swimming pool where Doctor Slim used to go after work so they knew her very well. Nothing was easier for his cousin’s girlfriend than to go for the bottle with higher percentage of alcohol than was her IQ.

Ominously she was creeping behind the unaware, tired and verbally vulgar Doctor Slim. She envied her the worked out body, her beautiful golden brown sun tan and that she studied medicine in Bratislava. While she was envying her she almost forgot about her perfect, white and healthy set of teeth.


Luke, Silvester, Doctor Slim, the headmaster and the ball


Silvester was standing under the window with the ball in his hands. The panties were carefully hidden in the PC box. There was no danger that they would be found by someone.

Luke was happy. He was sitting in the dental chair and from his hands he built a roof.

“Which one is sore?!”, Doctor Slim looked at him distrustfully.

“This one”, he pointed with his finger into the open mouth. She turned her eyes and pressed herself against him with the glossy tool in her hands. She pushed it inside and made his mouth more open with the other hand. He moved his feet cheerfully thinking of what he was having in mind to do.

“Do not move!”, she shouted. She concentrated on her tool and he concentrated on her body. Nothing in the world could prevent him from lifting up his hands, embracing Doctor Slim as a rear horse and beginning to eat her while living. Her pressure jumped up to the ceiling, her face blushed together with her breasts and in her eyes one could see flames of a cruel revenge. Luke did not care. He was relishing each second of total, never-ending closeness to her that was forbidden even to think of. Doctor Slim came to her senses and found out that she was still holding a glossy tool clinched between Luke’s teeth. The end of getting to know the unknown and nonrejecting dreams, desires and feelings could come anytime. His hand aimed for her back in the places that he used to think about during long journeys home. His hand was like thirsty lips and dreamplaces were the lake with the most delicious water sprung up from the very core of soul. Doctor Slim was shaking with the tool from side to side but she knew well that jaw muscles are one of the strongest. His saliva was running down her hands, on the back she had his hands and even more he was holding her with his legs. The spirit of happiness stepped into her very quickly. She managed to rip off the tool from the mouth of the bold and silly boy. She lifted the tool up, took in breath, she enjoyed a few seconds of naivity of the poor young boy and hit his head with all her strength by the tool. And that dotty coon began giggling instead of being frightened. She grabbed a tray with all the menace and suffering bringing tools and started beating his head with it. Luke began shouting so that his neck blushed.

“I am not a butterfly! Not a butterfly!”, each shout was followed up by the bang of the chrome-plated try.

“If Luke was not engaged in shouting and Doctor Slim in the liquidation of the student they would surely see the face of the surprised headmaster. He stood firmly with his feet on the ground holding the handle with one of his hands and leaning against the door casing with the other. He stood without moving as if being nailed but he was just pretending it.

“I would not cure him any differently”, he said to himself. After a while he returned back to his office. A dentist or a psychologist, a doctor is a doctor and that is it! He thought.

Silvester heard well a sorrowful yell of his team-mate. He did not miss the ball, the courage or the strength but he missed the privacy. Coincidentally, when Luke started yelling and Silvester was preparing for destructive throw at the window there appeared the angry gramp from yesterday. Scrutinizingly, he looked once at Silvester and the other time at the ball.

“Is anyone shouting here?”, he asked. Silvester did not hesitate, dribbled and threw the ball like a lightning into the window. Then he pulled out a cigarette out of his pocket and passed it to the gramp.

“Do you want a cigarette?”

The gramp put together all the courage to set order. He hit the cigarette out of his mouth with the stick and started shouting at him using so many swear words that you could not find them even in the dictionary of the Slovak slang. Silvester started running in order to catch the panties, the gramp wanted to catch Silvester and the sun was in a hurry for its horizon.

Luke was helping Doctor Slim pick up the broken glass.

“Please, be careful”, she said.