Agreement with the enemy - Voznice (18.)
We shared a home as friends. Although that's probably not quite the right expression. He went into business. He installed drywall. He said he was born for this job. As a former machinist, he had no problem with precise measurements, so he quickly learned complex arches, alcoves, and other tricks of the trade. In short, he really got into it.
It was a pretty nice time. The work came easily to him. This technology was still in its infancy, but it was developing very successfully. When he had learned everything, he teamed up with one of his roommates. The jobs were pouring in, so they had their hands full keeping up.
Suddenly, he was earning money, which not only boosted his self-confidence, but also gave him a desire to invest in the household. We bought new furniture, carpets, and lots of other equipment. You could say that we declared a fragile truce between us. He assembled and I did the accounting.
It worked for several years. It was kind of up and down. We started going on hikes and to the cottage again. Basically, no one noticed that there was a problem between us. We were just the perfect couple.
Once, when we went camping, one of our friends who loved to drink joined us. We had planned a route through the Voznické kempy campsites. It's not like that anymore, but back then, camping was very popular, so there were dozens of them there.
It was hot. Our stop at the local pub took a little longer than expected and our friend got a little tired of socializing. However, he bravely got up, threw his backpack on his back, and we set off.
In his "civilian life," he drove a truck. He was a captivating storyteller, especially when recounting stories from his travels. And he had plenty of them! I remember one where he had a serious accident on the road. He was driving a truck full of butter somewhere in Siberia when he got stuck in a snowdrift. The poor guy had to wait until spring before someone came to get him. The local settlers were very nice and hospitable people, so he had everything he needed. There was plenty of food and drink.
However, when the snow melted, he found that all that was left of his truck was the chassis.
The three of us trudged through the forest in high spirits. Anyone who knows Brdy knows that it's all hills. It was only a matter of time before the amount of beer he had drunk would get the better of him. His fatigue grew with every step, and although he was very brave, he soon collapsed in the grass, saying, "I'll wait for you here."
We didn't protest much. After all, it would be much easier to walk without the load, and we could pick some mushrooms for dinner along the way. We stacked the backpacks, including the food bags, in a neat pile, checked that they were lying comfortably, made sure that they would definitely wait for us there, and set off.
We wandered around for almost two hours. But what a surprise when we didn't find him at the agreed place. Our friend was gone, and so were the backpacks. Our hearts sank a little. He couldn't have taken them! It was pretty clear to us that, like a proper drunk, he had followed his nose back to the source. Thirst is thirst. That's obvious. We just weren't sure if he had actually taken our things.
After a while, we arrived at the bar. Our friend was sitting at a table with a frosty beer in front of him, our backpacks stacked around him, and he greeted us with a huge grin. "I suddenly got so thirsty that I decided to come back so my eyes wouldn't dry out."
He also thought we were the perfect couple. He used to say, "If you two break up, it'll be the end of the world..." There was no point in arguing with him. At times like that, I always remembered the loving words, "I love you, but if God loves you more, let him take you."
Oh well. Love is love. Until death do us part.
16. I'm sorry—I know. There were some good times. But as time went on, they became fewer and fewer. Still, I'm grateful for them. It's a shame we couldn't carry those beautiful and happy moments into our everyday lives. But I'm thankful for this time.
