Read Online Hold on to the Sun by Michal Govrin, Judith G. Miller - Free Book Online
Authors: Michal Govrin, Judith G. Miller
Tags: Writing
Ads: Link
the sun had already set, and the bluish light of the long evening had enveloped the terrace. The esplanade was full of weekend vacationers, and their light clothes were also covered with blue dust.
They had already placed their spoons next to their glass dishes and Lusia had opened her purse and removed her lipstick in order to freshen the red smear on her lips when a large tourist bus drew up in the street in front of the restaurant. It maneuvered clumsily until in the end it parked right outside the terrace, completely hiding the fishing harbor on the other side of the esplanade and the play of light and evening on the clouds.
The waiter hurried to the entrance of the terrace in order to welcome the people descending from the bus two by two and talking loudly to each other in German. At their head marched a short, plump man who seemed to be the tour organizer. The waiter ran behind the customers and showed them to their places.The organizer made jokes, and from time to time he slapped the shoulders of the people sitting down. And in the space of a few minutes the terrace
was packed full of couples sitting in crowded rows. And all alone in the corner, as in a tiny enclave, stood the table of Monyek and Lusia.
The manager of the restaurant came out. He was wearing a black suit and a bow tie in honor of the occasion. He too received a friendly slap on the back from the organizer, and then he hurried off behind the waiter to collect the orders from the diners and to see that everything was to their satisfaction. The waiter deposited bottles of beer and wine along the tables, which was greeted with cheers and an outbreak of loud chattering.
Monyek screwed up his napkin and wiped his mouth with it several times. The waiter banged their glasses of tea down in front of them and hurried off with his tray to serve the German diners.
“ Commun za va ?” The man sitting closest to their table at the end of the row of diners turned his face toward them with a broad smile.
His words directed the attention of the people next to him to the couple sitting on the terrace, and they all turned smiling faces toward Monyek and Lusia.
“ Non parler français .” A second man, wearing a brown-checked suit, joined in the conversation, laughing with the full weight of his body.
The wives of the two speakers stared at Lusia with the respect due to a native of the place. One of them, whose hair stuck out like a fair ball around her head, pointed to
her lips in order to indicate that she didn’t speak the language, accompanying this gesture with a low laugh.
The first man, who apparently knew a greater number of words, went on. “ Nous bataillons ici , comprenez ? Bataillons ? Krieg .” 21 He pointed to the people sitting around the tables and broadening his smile and shaking his head from side to side in an exaggerated way as if telling a story to children, he continued, “ Maintenant ici . Visite . Visite . Avec Frau . Comprenez ?” 22 he asked, and burst into friendly laughter.
And as if waiting for a signal to join in, the man in the three-piece brown suit and the two women also laughed, nodding their heads at Monyek and Lusia.
The waiter returned and unloaded his tray.
When Monyek picked up the bill lying on the table, the Germans were already tackling their first course. Monyek placed some bank notes on the saucer with the bill and rapidly counted out the coins for the waiter’s tip. He stood up, Lusia stood up too and gathered her bulky purse to her bosom.
The man with the square chin turned toward them, smiling through his chewing and said, “Au revoir Madame, au revoir Monsieur!” He waved his hand at them.
The two women also turned their heads, and the man
in the brown suit quickly wiped the grease off his lips with his napkin before calling out in a broken accent, “ Au rouvour ! Au rouvour !”
Monyek and Lusia squeezed their way to the exit along the space left between the outer wall of the restaurant and the
They had already placed their spoons next to their glass dishes and Lusia had opened her purse and removed her lipstick in order to freshen the red smear on her lips when a large tourist bus drew up in the street in front of the restaurant. It maneuvered clumsily until in the end it parked right outside the terrace, completely hiding the fishing harbor on the other side of the esplanade and the play of light and evening on the clouds.
The waiter hurried to the entrance of the terrace in order to welcome the people descending from the bus two by two and talking loudly to each other in German. At their head marched a short, plump man who seemed to be the tour organizer. The waiter ran behind the customers and showed them to their places.The organizer made jokes, and from time to time he slapped the shoulders of the people sitting down. And in the space of a few minutes the terrace
was packed full of couples sitting in crowded rows. And all alone in the corner, as in a tiny enclave, stood the table of Monyek and Lusia.
The manager of the restaurant came out. He was wearing a black suit and a bow tie in honor of the occasion. He too received a friendly slap on the back from the organizer, and then he hurried off behind the waiter to collect the orders from the diners and to see that everything was to their satisfaction. The waiter deposited bottles of beer and wine along the tables, which was greeted with cheers and an outbreak of loud chattering.
Monyek screwed up his napkin and wiped his mouth with it several times. The waiter banged their glasses of tea down in front of them and hurried off with his tray to serve the German diners.
“ Commun za va ?” The man sitting closest to their table at the end of the row of diners turned his face toward them with a broad smile.
His words directed the attention of the people next to him to the couple sitting on the terrace, and they all turned smiling faces toward Monyek and Lusia.
“ Non parler français .” A second man, wearing a brown-checked suit, joined in the conversation, laughing with the full weight of his body.
The wives of the two speakers stared at Lusia with the respect due to a native of the place. One of them, whose hair stuck out like a fair ball around her head, pointed to
her lips in order to indicate that she didn’t speak the language, accompanying this gesture with a low laugh.
The first man, who apparently knew a greater number of words, went on. “ Nous bataillons ici , comprenez ? Bataillons ? Krieg .” 21 He pointed to the people sitting around the tables and broadening his smile and shaking his head from side to side in an exaggerated way as if telling a story to children, he continued, “ Maintenant ici . Visite . Visite . Avec Frau . Comprenez ?” 22 he asked, and burst into friendly laughter.
And as if waiting for a signal to join in, the man in the three-piece brown suit and the two women also laughed, nodding their heads at Monyek and Lusia.
The waiter returned and unloaded his tray.
When Monyek picked up the bill lying on the table, the Germans were already tackling their first course. Monyek placed some bank notes on the saucer with the bill and rapidly counted out the coins for the waiter’s tip. He stood up, Lusia stood up too and gathered her bulky purse to her bosom.
The man with the square chin turned toward them, smiling through his chewing and said, “Au revoir Madame, au revoir Monsieur!” He waved his hand at them.
The two women also turned their heads, and the man
in the brown suit quickly wiped the grease off his lips with his napkin before calling out in a broken accent, “ Au rouvour ! Au rouvour !”
Monyek and Lusia squeezed their way to the exit along the space left between the outer wall of the restaurant and the
Similar Books
