The Stranger - Max Frei [4]
“You’ll make a first-class barbarian, Max. I don’t doubt it for a minute.”
“That doesn’t bother me in the least,” I said with my mouth full. “You see, Juffin, all my life I’ve been absolutely certain that I’m fine just as I am, and that I’m immune to the consequences of a bad reputation. That is to say, I have too much self-love to trouble myself with the torments of self-doubt and the search for self-affirmation, if you know what I mean.”
“But you’re a true philosopher!”
Sir Juffin Hully seemed to be quite satisfied with me.
Let me return to describing my studies. My passion for the printed word had never been as useful to me as it was during those first days. At night I devoured books by the dozens from Sir Juffin’s library. I learned about my new surroundings, at the same time grasping the idiosyncrasies of the locals and cramming my head full of colorful turns of phrase. Chuff tagged along at my heels and was fully engaged in my schooling for he gave me lessons in Silent Speech. Evenings (the middle of the day, by my personal clock), I reported to Sir Juffin. He kept me company at dinner and unobtrusively monitored all aspects of my progress. An hour or two later, Sir Juffin would disappear into his bedroom and I would move on to the library.
One evening, roughly two weeks after my abrupt arrival in Echo, Sir Juffin announced that I now fully resembled an ordinary person, and thus deserved a reward.
“Today we’re dining in the Glutton, Max! I’ve been looking forward to this moment.”
“Dining where?”
“The Glutton Bunba, the most elegant mangy dive of them all: hot pâtés, the best kamra in Echo, the splendid Madam Zizinda, and not a single sourpuss to be seen at this hour of day.”
“What do you mean, not a single sourpuss?”
“Actually, not a single unpleasant face of any kind—but you know this place better than most Echoers!”
“How’s that?”
“You’ll see. Put on your shoes and let’s go. I’m as hungry as an armless thief.”
And so for the first time I changed from my house slippers into tall moccasins that aspired to look like real boots. I also had a driver’s test—ha! As if that was anything to worry about! Having mastered the rusty heap that had belonged to my cousin, and even inherited it when he hit the big time and treated himself to some swanky new wheels, driving the amobiler didn’t pose any problem for me. Several days before, Kimpa had demonstrated for me the simple steps of operating the car, carried out with the help of a single lever. After a short ride in my company, he announced, “You’re going to be fine,” and left. Now Juffin was admiring my professionalism, saying: “Take it easy, young man! Life’s short enough as it is!” After a few minutes he added: “Too bad I don’t need a chauffeur. I’d hire you in a minute.” I swelled with pride right then and there.
Driving did not distract me from my first real encounter with Echo. First we threaded our way through narrow lanes weaving through the magnificent gardens of the Left Bank. Each yard was illumined in keeping with the taste of its owner, so we rode through bright dappled patches of color, yellow, pink, green, and lilac. I had often admired the nighttime gardens of the Left Bank from the roof of our house, but floating from one lush lake of color to another—it was something else entirely!
Then we entered what appeared to be a broad avenue lined with the bright little lights of stores still open. It turned out though that I hadn’t understood a thing about this particular urban landscape. This wasn’t an avenue, but rather, Echo Crest, one of the many bridges that connected the Left Bank with the Right. The waters of a river declared the finest in the Unified Kingdom, the Xuron, sparkled in the spaces between buildings. Halfway across the bridge I even slowed down, struck by the splendor of the view on both sides. To my right, on a large island in the middle