understood me exactly and was actually interested in what I said, did and thought. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually seen that in any boy’s eyes before. Interesting feeling. On the way to school Kaplan told me a bit about his latest lyrics, which he rarely does, because as he says, without the music it just doesn’t work. This time he made an exception, perhaps in return for my poem. ‘‘My mother bought me this new shirt She thought I’d actually wear it, How did she ever get that idea? When it has no possible merit?’’ And the second verse: ‘‘My mother bought me new trousers She says the old ones don’t have it. How did she ever get that idea? Who wants to kill an old habit?’’ Well, I just totally leapt around with enthusiasm—it’s a wonder I didn’t give him a kiss. Amazing—I told him immediately what my mum had done with my favourite trousers and Kaplan said: ‘‘You mean those red corduroys—those old Levis?’’ I just stood staring at him in disbelief. ‘‘You remember what I have on? How come?’’ But I told myself off straight away for asking him in such a stupid way. Kaplan kicked the gravel and fallen leaves and then says:
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‘‘Damn it, if only Dad would get better. I’m afraid not only will Grandad’s immortal verses outlive him, but so will Gran dad.’’ Now we were standing in front of the tileworks, and there was nothing for it but to go in. They were just having their break, and the racket could be heard out on the pavement. ‘‘Where’ve you been?’’ Jůlie greeted me. ‘‘Antoša has been here looking for you.’’ ‘‘Me? Really? What did he want?’’ Honza Kaplan instantly evaporated from my mind, along with his hit song, his sick father and his famous grandad. Jůlie didn’t actually know what he wanted, and then the bell rang, so I couldn’t find out anything else. History was just starting—and when it came to an end I hadn’t the faintest idea what it was about. Throughout I was imagining that a miracle had happened, and that Antoša had come to say he loved me, and that he couldn’t bear to be without me a minute longer.
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8 Ridiculous Nicholas So of course, no miracle actually took place. I didn’t get to see Antoša that day, but when we did eventually meet up, which was not until a week later, because I was ill in the meantime, even though Tökely said there was nothing at all the matter with me, since I didn’t have a temperature, it turned out that he only wanted to return the beret that I left at their place one time. I hadn’t even noticed, as I have several of them—two black ones, one red one and a dark blue one. It’s a real shame it was just that. I was sorry, but obviously I acted as if nothing was the matter, as always. And although St Nicholas Eve was nice, things didn’t turn out too well afterwards either. Not even the beginning was that good. Three days beforehand we agreed at the Pilsner Courtyard to divide up into two groups, with Jůlie and Antoša in the first group, along with Páťa Jíchová, who unfortunately somehow got involved too, and Havlíček, Schlesinger and me in the second. Me and Jůlie did not like it one little bit, because naturally I wanted to be with Antoša, and Jůlie wanted to be with Havlíček, but the boys had worked it out that way for some reason, and we were loath to put forward our own particular ideas. That
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