II Cleaning

Ganz einfach!, the man with the funny hat said. Kommen Sie bitte!

The Military-Cleaning-Compound was a large building. It towered over the gothic churches and the avant-garde skyscrappers; over the first clouds and the last birds. Strong and grey, it stood beside the Stadtfluss, where ant-sized boats raced with each other, oblivious to its presence.

The boy strode along the man through the aisle. Probably made in a rush, the rooms that flanked them showed different numeric systems on their doors. Given the obvious limitations of certain antique numerals, some door-tags where often printed on small cards, panphlets or even complete books. Finding a room on the 40th floor was not an easy chore, even in binary.

[The King thought that diversity should be encouraged, even when counting.]

So no less diverse where the people that lived inside the Compound. Herr Schlag, the funny-hatted man, told him about the strange pink-cheek'd Leute that wohnt in der fünfte Stock; the way they used to walk to every place in an orderly fashion and never in a rush; their women tied-up and stick-glued so their smily faces never complained. Schlag told him about the fourteenth floor, where no man could could avoid being confronted with an uncomfortable situation. Die Leute sind sehr comische, he erklärt. It seemed, the boy understood, that conflict arose daily between the families that lived there, dragging anybody nearby into their unglücklische Streit. Nonetheless, all the vierzehnten Leute seemed to forget all about their problems between each other by the next day. It was a good thing, given that sometimes they fought about the same thing three days in a row.

They stood in front of the elevator. The man splatted a hand against his forhead. Scheiße. Du müsst einen MCC-Ausweis erstmal bekommen, Schlag said pointing at his plastic id. He saw the boy's long face and trembling legs. Okay Kind, wir werden das am Morgen machen.

With a quick slice, the passed the id through the scanner and the elevator arrived in ein Augenblick. Schlag thrust'd and aufwiderseh'd him inside. The elevator door closed itself.

Nächster halt, Stock XXXIII.

Y ahora que chingaos, the small boy pondered.

El Mercadito

The boy strode through the moaning road, with trees as tall as cathedrals and castles at his sides. Shining outward, an anorexic river traveled along with him . He was almost there.

A few blocks from the entrance of the Market, a girl was swaggering curiously. He suddenly knew why: instead of legs, the funny girl had two wooden stumps, and stumping all around, she sang things never heard before.
-Hey, the boy said.
-Hola tú, the girl answered.
-¿Estás bien?, while pointing at the two prosthetic limbs.
-Sí. Gracias.
-¿Qué te pasó?, the still-intrigued boy asked.
-Oh nada, cosas que pasan, she said with a shrug and spun in one stump, me he preguntado que pasaría si los afilaras. Así como trompos. O pirinolas.
-Seguro fue una de esas Hexe. ¿No hay nada que se pueda hacer?
-No. Y no estoy segura que fuera una Hexe, y si lo fuera, no estoy segura que su intencion fuera mala. Era hermosa, como flores y luz, mucha luz. Así no son, ¿verdad?
-No lo sé. En mi pueblo no hay mucho más que un par de gallinas y cosas aburridas como ranas, said the boy with an unintended frown.
-Ah, bueno. Te hago el cuento corto:

Fue como siempre, como le sucede a cualquiera. Llevaba botas con estrellas a los lados y una medalla en su chaleco. Le gustaban los titulos, von Aachen, St. Germain, toda esa mitologia de realeza y otras cosas imaginarias. Yo trabajaba en su hacienda y le llevaba wärme Brötchen mit Konfiture a cada nebilina. Por la Bahnhof, cruzando el Wochenmarkt (el cual abre los domingos, abends), buscaba las fresas y las guardaba en un Flasche. Todo parecia nuevo, como fachada de set...
>> Creo que necesitarás mas que fresas, si pretendes Zusammen mit el príncipe, dijo una joven que atendía un puesto. Tenía la nariz grande y una escoba. (Véase: Caracterización Express)
>> ¿Qué?, digo... no pretendo nada, le dije.
De un kleine Koffer sacó una semilla.
>>Una mordida de ésto y lo tendrás a tu lado.
Regresé a ciegas a la hacienda-palacio y soné el timbre. Al instante se abrieron las puertas y la cámara esperaba. La oscuridad común, sustituída en ésta ocasion por una sóla vela, se escurría por las Wände. Al moverse el suelo y acercárse la vela, descubrí que, al lado de ésta una schwarze Rose ardía. Tapándome los ojos con sus manos, tomó de las mías todo lo que había gekauft.
>>Hoy me va, dijo con una voz que no había escuchado en siglos.
Creo que la situación, bastante obvia para cualquiera que la escuche de éste modo, resulta algo trágica. Descuidado sin remedio, él mezcló todos los ingredientes para hacer la jalea, incluyendo la kleine semillita.
La primera mordida, con todo su glorioso sabor, no se comparó al primer bocado de Brötchen. Y fue en un Augenblick. Pareciendo víctima de cientos de calambres al unísono, mis piernas se tensaron. Creo que no tuve tiempo para gritar al ver mis músculos y piel convertidos en corteza y las venas en racíces. No tendría que preocuparme de la celulitis.
No me sorprendí mucho cuando lo ví salir corriendo. No lo juzgo. Tenía todo el derecho de correr: a fin de cuentas, él era la víctima original. Duré unas semanas en el centro de la cámara siendo árbol a medio crecer. La falta de agua y sol habían debilitado mi extremidad inferior.
Faltando pocas hojas por caer de mis muslos, vi un hombre fornido entrar. Su hacha y su amplia perspektive me dió forma y función, dos miembros necesarios de lo que antes era una unión francamente asquerosa. Vivimos felices unas dos semanas y luego me confesó que era gay.

Y así fue, said the funny girl.

-Ehmm, said the boy looking elsewhere.
-Si?
-Sabes donde conseguir una maleta barata?

She guided him through the many stores, until she gave him an uglybrown baggage. Although ancient as tourist-class travel itself, the baggage still remained sturdy. Drawings of several private parts decorated it. The boy found it sehr toll.

He was ready to go.

0. Der Brief

The first note he recieved was brief, and although he read it seventy times seven times, the message remained as simple as a noodle-cooking witch:

By Divine Wish of Our Great and Honorable King Philleas F. the Short

It is ordered that the Free-Citizen [the boy's name] must proceed to his nearest Military-Cleaning-Compound and await further instructions. Under no circumstance should the Free-Citizen delay his arrival at MCC more than a week from the date stamped on this letter.

Godspeed Free-Citizen
H.R. Department, Military-Cleaning-Compound

Everybody in the house uproared the moment the letter came by standard delivery mail. Once the mother had calmed her sobs, and the children subdued their nagging questions, the father spoke with a clear blubber and said, Oye mira la fecha, and everybody looked at the date. Five days had passed since it was stamped, and so, quite naturally, the boy turned blue in the face.

The mother found new strength for her cries, Oh Dios, Oh Dios, she said; while the rest of the children nagged as well as they could. Once again, the father's voice blubbered the nonsense out as he spoke wisely, Tienes dos días güey, así que mejor te vas ahorita al mercado y te compras una maleta. Algo me dice que no regresarás en un buen rato, said the five-foot father, as he extended up a piece of money-currency to the still-a-pendejado boy. The boy grasped the money, and kneeled to brace his loving father. A second later, the father cleared his throat, and at that very omen, the boy sprung out the house.

Prologue

It is said that in every great journey, one that makes the heart wonder and grin, the hero must always come from a humble origin. And as such it is that he must depart his simple homeland and his sober father and unruly friends -and even his wife and kids, although that's a bit harsh I think...-, to take glory in deeds that make the fair ladies swoon and the courageous envy.

Such a story I wish to tell, from a boy that a man he came to be, that far from his northern town and northern ways he came to part, to find in yonder lands amazing sights for us to behold. And "No-Te-Mames" they came to say, for such sights were delightfully bold, and as boldly delightful as they once were through the eyes of the unsuspecting boy.

This of course is no simple task, I believe, with much to be said and much to crop out. None the less I hope, curious reader, that you will find in these stories a reason to, like the boy in this poor Bildungsroman, fly moderately high over small and shallow seas. May risk-assessed adventure be with you!

Note:
The following entries may or may not be written in english, español, deutsch or any other language I find adequate. They may or may not contain fiction, non-fiction, thinly-veiled autobiography, collage, hypertext, photos, drawings, Wurst, Bier oder Wein. Musik auch.