The Schooldays of Jesus (13 page)

‘“And what is your final wish?” said the genie.

‘“I wish to be king of the world,” said the fisherman.

‘Instantly the fisherman found himself clothed in a robe of golden samite, with a gold crown on his head. An elephant appeared, which lifted him with its trunk and seated him on a throne upon its back. “You have had your final wish. You are king of the world,” said the genie. “Farewell.” And he vanished in a puff of smoke.

‘It was late in the day. The beach was deserted, save for the fisherman and his beautiful bride-to-be and the elephant and the hundred dying fish. “We shall proceed to my village,” said the fisherman in his most kingly voice. “Proceed!” But the elephant did not stir. “Proceed!” shouted the fisherman even more loudly; still the elephant did not heed him. “You! Girl!” shouted the king. “Fetch a stick and beat this elephant to make him proceed!” Obediently the girl fetched a stick and beat the elephant until the elephant began to walk.

‘As the sun was setting they arrived at the fisherman's village. His neighbours clustered around, marvelling at the elephant and the beautiful girl and the fisherman himself, seated on his throne
with the crown on his head. “Behold, I am king of the world, and this is my queen!” said the fisherman. “To show my bounty, on the morrow you shall have a feast of a hundred fishes.” The villagers rejoiced and helped the king down from the elephant; he retired to his humble dwelling where he spent the night in the arms of his beautiful bride.

‘As soon as day dawned, the villagers set off for the beach to fetch the hundred fishes. But when they arrived they saw nothing but fish-bones, for during the night wolves and bears had come down to the beach and gorged themselves. So the villagers came back saying, “O king, wolves and bears have devoured the fishes, catch more fishes for us, we are hungry.”

‘Out of the folds of his robe the fisherman fetched the gold ring. He rubbed it and rubbed it, but no genie appeared.

‘Then the villagers grew angry, saying, “What kind of king are you who cannot feed us?”

‘“I am king of all the world,” replied the fisherman made king. “If you refuse to recognize me I will remove myself.” He turned to his bride of the night. “Bring the elephant,” he commanded. “We are departing from this ungrateful village.”

‘But during the night the elephant had wandered off, throne and all, and no one knew where to find him.

‘“Come!” said the fisherman to his bride. “We will walk.”

‘But his bride refused. “Queens don't walk,” she pouted. “I want to ride like a queen on
un palafrén blanco
with a retinue of maidens preceding me beating tambourines.”'

The door opens and Dmitri tiptoes into the room followed by David. Alyosha pauses in his reading. ‘Come, David,' says Ana
Magdalena. ‘Alyosha is reading us the story of the fisherman who would be king.'

While David takes a seat by her side Dmitri remains at the door, squatting, with his cap in his hands. Ana Magdalena frowns and gives an abrupt little wave as if ordering him out, but he pays no attention.

‘Go on, Alyosha,' says Ana Magdalena, ‘and listen carefully, children, because when Alyosha has finished I am going to ask you what we can learn from the story of the fisherman.'

‘I know the answer,' says David. ‘I read the story by myself.'

‘You may have read the story, David, but the rest of us have not,' says Ana Magdalena. ‘Alyosha, go on.'

‘“You are my bride, you will obey me,” said the fisherman.

‘Haughtily the girl tossed her head. “I am a queen, I do not walk, I ride on
un palafrén
,” she repeated.'

‘What is a
palafrén
, Alyosha?' asks one of the children.

‘A
palafrén
is a horse,' says David. ‘Isn't that so, Alyosha?'

Alyosha nods. ‘“I ride on
un palafrén
.”

‘Without a word the king turned his back on his bride and strode off. For many miles he walked until he came to another village. The villagers gathered around him, marvelling at his crown and his samite robe.

‘“Behold, I am king of the world,” said the fisherman. “Bring me food to eat, for I am hungry.”

‘“We will bring you food,” replied the villagers, “but if you are a king as you say, where is your retinue of followers?”

‘“I do not need a retinue of followers to be king,” said the
fisherman. “Do you not see the crown upon my head? Do as I say. Bring me a feast.”

‘Then the villagers laughed at him. Instead of bringing him a feast, they knocked the crown off his head and tugged off his samite robe until he stood before them in the humble garb of a fisherman. “You are a pretender!” cried the villagers. “You are just a fisherman! You are no better than us! Go back to where you came from!” And they beat him with staves until he ran away. And thus ended the story of the fisherman who would be king.'

‘And thus ended the story,' echoes Ana Magdalena. ‘An interesting story, is it not, children. What do you think we can learn from it?'

‘I know,' says David, and gives him, Simón, a little sidelong smile as if to say,
Do you see how clever I am here in the Academy?

‘You may know, David, but that is because you have read the story before,' says Ana Magdalena. ‘Let us give other children a chance.'

‘What happened to the elephant?' The speaker is the younger of the Arroyo boys.

‘Alyosha, what happened to the elephant?' says Ana Magdalena.

‘The elephant was swept up into the skies by a great whirlwind and deposited back in his forest home, where he lived happily ever after,' says Alyosha evenly.

A look passes from his eyes to hers. For the first time it occurs to him, Simón, that something might be going on between them, between the director's alabaster-pure wife and the handsome young usher.

‘What can we learn from the story of the fisherman?' repeats
Ana Magdalena. ‘Was the fisherman a good man or a bad man?'

‘He was a bad man,' says the younger Arroyo boy. ‘He beat the elephant.'

‘He didn't beat the elephant, his bride beat the elephant,' says the older Arroyo boy, Joaquín.

‘But he made her do it.'

‘The fisherman was bad because he was selfish,' says Joaquín. ‘He only thought about himself when he was given the three wishes. He should have thought about other people.'

‘So what do we learn from the story of the fisherman?' says Ana Magdalena.

‘That we should not be selfish.'

‘Do we agree, children?' says Ana Magdalena. ‘Do we agree with Joaquín that the story warns us against being selfish, that if we are too selfish we will end up being chased away into the desert by our neighbours? David, did you want to say something?'

‘The villagers were wrong,' says David. He looks around, lifting his chin in a challenging way.

‘Explain,' says Ana Magdalena. ‘Give your reasons. Why were the villagers wrong?'

‘He was king. They should have bowed down before him.'

From Dmitri, squatting on his heels at the doorway, comes the sound of slow handclapping. ‘Bravo, David,' says Dmitri. ‘Spoken like a master.'

Ana Magdalena frowns at Dmitri. ‘Don't you have duties?' she says.

‘Duties to statues? The statues are dead, every one of them, they can take care of themselves.'

‘He wasn't a real king,' says Joaquín, who seems to be growing in confidence. ‘He was a fisherman pretending to be king. That's what the story says.'

‘He was king,' says David. ‘The genie made him king. The genie was all-powerful.'

The two boys glare at each other. Alyosha intervenes. ‘How do we come to be king?' he asks. ‘That is the true question, is it not? How does any of us come to be king? Do we have to meet a genie? Do we have to cut open a fish and find a magic ring?'

‘You first have to be a prince,' says Joaquín. ‘You can't be a king if you haven't been a prince first.'

‘You can,' says David. ‘He had three wishes and it was his third wish. The genie made him king of the world.'

Again, from Dmitri, comes slow, resounding handclapping. Ana Magdalena ignores him. ‘So what do
you
think we can we learn from the story, David?' she asks.

The boy takes a deep breath, as if about to speak, then abruptly shakes his head.

‘What?' repeats Ana Magdalena.

‘I don't know. I can't see it.'

‘Time for us to go, David,' he says, and rises. ‘Thank you, Alyosha, for the reading. Thank you, señora.'

This is the boy's first visit to the cramped room where he, Simón, now lives. He makes no comment on it, but drinks his orange juice and eats his biscuits. Then, with Bolívar shadowing them, they go for a walk, exploring the neighbourhood. The neighbourhood is not interesting, just one street after another of narrow-fronted residences. It is Friday evening, however, and
people coming home from the week's labour glance curiously at the small boy and the big dog with the cold yellow eyes.

‘This is my territory,' says he, Simón. ‘This is where I deliver my messages, to all the streets around here. It is not a grand job, but being a stevedore wasn't a grand job either. Each of us finds the level that suits us best, and this is my level.'

They halt at an intersection. Bolívar pads past them into the road. A burly man on a bicycle swerves to avoid him, glances back angrily. ‘Bolívar!' exclaims the boy. Lazily Bolívar returns to his side.

‘Bolívar behaves as if he were king,' says he, Simón. ‘He behaves as if he had met a genie. He thinks everyone should give way before him. He ought to think again. Maybe his wishes are all used up. Or maybe his genie was just made of smoke.'

‘Bolívar is king of the dogs,' says the boy.

‘Being king of the dogs won't save him from being run over by a car. The king of the dogs is just a dog, in the end.'

For whatever reason, the boy is not his usual lively self. At the table, over their meal of mashed potato and gravy and peas, his eyelids droop. Without protest he settles into his bed on the sofa.

‘Sleep tight,' he, Simón, whispers, kissing him on the brow.

‘I'm getting tiny-tiny-tiny,' the boy says in a croaky, half-asleep voice. ‘I'm getting tiny-tiny-tiny and I'm falling.'

‘Let yourself fall,' he whispers. ‘I am here to watch over you.'

‘Am I a ghost, Simón?'

‘No, you are not a ghost, you are real. You are real and I am real. Now sleep.'

In the morning he seems more perky. ‘What are we going to
do today?' he says. ‘Can we go to the lake? I want to sail in the boat again.'

‘Not today. We can make an excursion to the lake when Diego and Stefano are here, when we show them the sights. How about a football match instead? I'll buy a newspaper and see who is playing.'

‘I don't want to watch football. It's boring. Can we go to the museum?'

‘All right. But is it really the museum you want to visit or is it Dmitri? Why do you like Dmitri so much? Is it because he gives you sweets?'

‘He talks to me. He tells me things.'

‘He tells you stories?'

‘Yes.'

‘Dmitri is a lonely man. He is always looking for someone to tell his stories to. It's a bit pathetic. He should find himself a girlfriend.'

‘He is in love with Ana Magdalena.'

‘Yes, so he told me, so he tells anyone who will listen to him. Ana Magdalena must find it embarrassing.'

‘He has pictures of women with no clothes on.'

‘Well, it doesn't surprise me. That is what men do when they are lonely, some men. They collect pictures of beautiful women and dream of what it would be like to be with them. Dmitri is lonely and he doesn't know what to do about his loneliness, so when he isn't following señora Arroyo around like a dog he looks at pictures. We can't blame him, but he should not be showing his pictures to you. It's not nice, and it will make Inés cross if
she hears about it. I'll speak to him. Does he show them to other children as well?'

The boy nods.

‘What else can you tell me? What do you and he talk about?'

‘About the other life. He says he is going to be with Ana Magdalena in the other life.'

‘Is that all?'

‘He says I can be with them in the other life.'

‘You and who else?'

‘Just me.'

‘I will definitely speak to him. I will speak to Ana Magdalena too. I am not happy about Dmitri. I don't think you should be seeing so much of him. Now finish your breakfast.'

‘Dmitri says he has lust. What is lust?'

‘Lust is a condition that grown-ups suffer from, my boy, usually grown men like Dmitri who are by themselves too much without a wife or a girlfriend. It is a kind of ache, like a headache or a stomach-ache. It makes them have fantasies. It makes them imagine things that aren't true.'

‘Does Dmitri suffer from lust because of Ana Magdalena?'

‘David, Ana Magdalena is a married woman. She has a husband of her own to love. She can be a friend to Dmitri but she can't love him. Dmitri needs a woman who will love him for himself. As soon as he finds a woman who loves him he will be cured of all his woes. He won't need to look at pictures anymore, and he won't need to tell every passer-by how much he worships the lady upstairs. But I am sure he is grateful to you for listening to his stories, for being a good friend to him. I am sure it has helped him.'

‘He told another boy he is going to kill himself. He is going to shoot a bullet through his head.'

‘Which boy was that?'

‘Another boy.'

‘I don't believe it. The boy must have misunderstood. Dmitri isn't going to kill himself. Besides, he doesn't have a gun. On Monday morning, when I take you to school, I'll have a chat to Dmitri and ask him what is wrong and what we can do to help. Maybe, when we all go to the lake, we can invite Dmitri along. Shall we do that?'