The Stranger - Max Frei [143]
“What makes you say that?” he asked in surprise.
“Because you’re the only other person whose face doesn’t bear witness to the exhausting send-off of the passing year.”
“What, is the year ending already?”
“In three days.”
“Goodness gracious! I completely forgot! I’ll have to ask Varisha if there’s anything I must do. Thank you for the reminder, Sir Max.”
Lookfi bounded headlong out of the office, upsetting a cup and overturning a chair. The remains of the kamra settled into the green pile of the carpet in the shape of a mournful question mark. I had no choice but to call the messenger. Someone had to clean up this mess!
After midday I began to nod off and secretly to curse the sleepyhead Melifaro. I adore the opportunity to save a human life, of course; but charity begins at home. And that was just where I wanted to be.
Melifaro showed up before I had fully exhausted my supply of curses. He looked so healthy and robust that I felt like a saint. This was even more pleasant than scaring the population of Echo with my Mantle of Death.
“All hail, Sir Max, the one and only bestower of sweet dreams!” Melifaro exclaimed from the doorway.
He could have continued this panegyric until kingdom come, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen.
“I’m going home to bestow sweet dreams on myself. If someone tries to wake me up, I’ll start to spit, so beware,” I threatened, and called for a Ministry amobiler. Just then the ten-minute walk home didn’t seem like the best way of getting there. I so desperately wanted to sleep that I began undressing in the amobiler. But who would be surprised by that at the End of the Year?
The following two days passed in a similar fashion. The general tension continued to mount. But on the morning of the Last Day of the Year, I suddenly realized that everything was over.
Sir Juffin Hully arrived at the expected time, sat down in a chair, and was lost in contemplation for a time.
“You still haven’t learned how to make kamra, Max?” he asked out of the blue.
“I don’t think I have the knack for it. Do you remember my first attempts? The results were so disastrous I decided not to repeat the experiment.”
“Fine. Now I’ll teach you how to do it. Otherwise my conscience will bother me. Luring a person to a strange, unknown World, and then turning him loose without teaching him the most basic of skills . . .”
I was so surprised that I took the risk of agreeing to try. And we began casting spells over a miniscule brazier that he fished out of the bottomless drawer of his desk. Our joint creation was not bad at all, although it could never have competed with the “piece de resistance” of the Glutton. After this success I had to repeat it on my own.
“A hole in the heavens above you, Max,” Juffin grumbled, as he tasted my creation. “You’re never going to learn. It’s hopeless.”
“I’m a newfangled newcomer,” I announced proudly. “A barbarian, a savage, and an ignoramus. You should pity me, instruct me, and not criticize me. Besides, if you had warned me that you needed a fellow who could make kamra, I would immediately have admitted that you had come to the wrong address.”
“Ignorance is no sin,” said Juffin. “But I don’t understand. Why can’t you learn this one thing? You do much more difficult things with the greatest of ease.”
“Talent,” I insisted. “You need talent for everything. In this area of expertise, I happen to be all thumbs. It’s lucky for you, Juffin, that you never tried one of my omelets. Not to mention the rest of my culinary quirks. Sandwiches are the acme of my abilities.”
“Really? That’s terrible. Fine, let’s go to the Glutton. And if someone comes when we’re not here, Kurush will take care of him. Right, my dear?” Juffin said fondly, stroking the buriwok’s soft feathers.
Kurush looked very pleased.
Naturally, when we got to the Glutton, we couldn’t settle for just two mugs of kamra. We had a lengthy, hearty breakfast, and I was finally convinced that the pre-holiday nightmare had been left behind.
“Don’t even think of hightailing it home yet,