Fun and Games

Previously appeared in Mongrel Magazine
April 2004

The club was full of burly local businessmen in counterfeit suits and garish local girls in tight tops. We sat down in our velvet booth and checked out the menu which was, of course, in English.

Tristan made the obligatory joke about steaks, Romania and Dracula. I had warmed to Trist straight away. On the road you learn to size people up pretty quickly. Didn’t take himself too seriously. I liked that.

Anna, on the other hand, was both a vegan and a vegetarian, which I hadn’t realised was even possible. Still she seemed to have a good sense of humour. She laughed at my jokes; even the one about Dr. Spock. Junichi didn’t get my jokes. He talked in phrases.

‘That’s a great idea you guys!’

‘Let’s have some cool beers yeah!’

It was hard to get used to. We let him drift out of the conversation. The beers came, and then the food.

Everything was going grand until Junichi stuck his fork in his eye. He didn’t mean to do it. He was doing an ostentatious laugh and throwing his arms in the air and next thing Anna was screaming and his fork was sticking out of his eye. He still held the handle tightly in his right hand. He was remarkably calm. Or maybe just in shock. It was hard to tell. Some oily fluid ran down his cheek.

Tristan stood up to help. He carefully eased Junichi’s fingers one by one from around the fork. It didn’t fall, just stayed sticking out at right angles to his face, firmly embedded in the eye. Tristan gripped the fork determinedly and after counting down slowly three, two, one, carefully yanked it clear. Things didn’t go exactly to plan. Junichi roared. Tristan stood there holding up a fork with a Japanese eyeball stuck on its prongs. Anna screamed again. People at nearby tables started to glance over. I suppressed a giggle and cursed myself for swopping my camera for a pair of Ray-bans in Trieste.

Tristan was shaking so much it looked like he would drop the fork, so I grabbed it off him and held it up to the light. The eye was still pretty much intact. It was fascinating. There were nerves and a whole gooey mess dangling from the back. Quite a crowd had gathered around our table. Junichi was holding one hand over his vacant socket and grabbing ineffectually for the fork with the other. I handed it back to him. He brought his arm up and held the loose eye up to the good one.

Then he passed out and fell on the floor, sending the fork flying and the eyeball bouncing across the filthy floor. It came to a stop, pupil up, watching us warily from the safety of the corner. Nobody moved.

We all went to the hospital, except Tristan who had a night train to Istanbul to catch. Anna and I dozed in the grimy waiting room. We could neither of us think of much to say. The night’s events had put the ‘You shoulda seen the size of the cockroaches in Zagreb’ stories right into perspective.