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En fyr som flytter...
Sjanger:FortellingLastet opp:22.02.2002
Verktøy:Utskrift   Del på Facebook

"Hey, John! Wake up, we’re almost there!" my little brother is shouting at me with that annoying voice, he always has to wake me up like that; Loudly and every single time vexing me like it was the end of the world. Actually it is the end of the world - for me. My father’s job allows promotions to extremely far places. Though with extremely high wages. . . I had to leave my old school, friends and classmates, even my fresh girlfriend I had to leave behind, all that in just one week. Well actually we did not even have the time to get involved properly, so I am not very emotionally sad, but.
The airhostess presents herself from behind the curtain and grants us some pleasuring information; "Dinner is soon to be served - here on first class we will offer you sliced, crisproasted pork meat in a sweet-and-sour sauce with rice, and if asked for, chopsticks." Her voice was a typical stewardess’ voice, tender and nice, just perfect.
When we finally arrive at this godforsaken place I see that it is not godforsaken at all, just smaller. Smaller than the city where I came from, where I had my first birthday-party and where I got my first kiss. A small tear is introducing itself in my left eye, a fifty-fifty tear between sadness and happiness; sadness because of leaving my friends behind, and happiness of knowing that I will get over it - eventually.

Back to the not-godforsaken place I see a cab awaiting us by the main entrance, in ten minutes we are reaching our destination.
Our gigantic detached house is a modern one, well designed and with a beautiful garden. Behind the house there is a pond, in it we find fish in all shapes and colours. My room is in the basement, I guess it is about twenty-five square meters, it is empty now but my father relates me that I can fit it out with whatever I want, within forty thousand. Suddenly my sorrow is shrinking considerably. . .
The hour is late, it is time to test-sleep my new apartment. Tomorrow school awaits me with a bunch of new pupils who all of them I am going to get to know - eventually.
"John! It’s almost time to go to school, it’s your first day, remember?" my mother whispers. I moan tired, but before I turn around to the other side of the bed she has tossed me out of bed, impudent!
I am entering the classroom, orange-painted walls with matching red edges is all I can notice from the room’s interior before the schoolmistress calls on me.
"Hello there. . . " she awaits my arrival; "Why don’t you tell us your name, Mr. ?" "It’s J - John Thomas!" all these eyes looking in my direction almost make me forget. The first lesson is English. . .
In the recess, three of the class’ nine boys gather around me, the other ones right next to us.
I pluck up courage and I ask the guys what their names are. I hear "James" from a small redhead, "Guy" from a big masculine guy, and "Peter" from a dude my size, normal.
"What are you interested in?" the small one asks rapidly, "Well. . . I like gunfiring, especially with shotguns. . . Ehh, audio and image, I just love reading magazines referring to that subject, and of course, I have just started playing guitar. Et vous?" Suddenly there are no guys standing next to me but question marks. So I am referring to the French and translating to them: " "Et vous" means "and you" "
Now they are with me again and they are telling me the amazing facts: The guys are practicing shooting twice a week, have incredibly interesting home cinema systems and have their own band!
"Well that’s great!!" I confide them. . .
In the recess after mathematics, the next lesson, a beautiful girl confronts me; "Hi, my name is Jeanine. I heard that there was a new boy commencing my parallel class. And I - had a hunch. . ."
I was lost but finally it hit me what was going on, and exclaimed "Hunch?"
"Yes, I’ll tell you. . . If you come to The Golden Angel tomorrow night - is that a date?" she asks certainly.
"Absolutely!" I answer bewildered.
When I come home I tell my parents about the day’s events, of course not about Jeanine. They become relieved, because I’m taking this whole thing so easy and have already made friends.
I go down to my room thinking that I was lucky, it was not as hard as I assumed.

Perhaps to be continued sometimes?

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