University of Banja Luka

Faculty of Sciences:Mathematics and

Seminary work

The Stranger

Mentor: Stunent:
Nevena Vucen
Milenko Gajic
 The Stranger II

On waking I understood why my employer had looked rather cross when I asked for my
two days off- it’s a Saturday today. I hadn’t thought of this at the time; it only struck me when
I was getting out of bed. Obviously he had seen that it would mean my getting four days’
holiday straight off, and one couldn’t expect him to like that. Still, for one thing, it wasn’t my
fault if Mother was buried yesterday and not today; and then, again, I’d have had my Saturday
and Sunday off in any case. But naturally this didn’t prevent me from seeing my employer’s
point.
Getting up was an effort, as I’d been really exhausted by the previous day’s experiences.
While shaving, I wondered how to spend the morning, and decided that a swim would do me
good. So I caught the streetcar that goes down to the harbor.
It was quite like old times; a lot of young people were in the swimming pool, amongst
them Marie Cardona, who used to be a typist at the office. I was rather keen on her in those
days, and I fancy she liked me, too. But she was with us so short a time that nothing came of
it.
While I was helping her to climb on to a raft, I let my hand stray over her breasts. Then she
lay flat on the raft, while I trod water. After a moment she turned and looked at me. Her hair
was over her eyes and she was laughing. I clambered up on to the raft, beside her. The air was
pleasantly warm, and, half jokingly, I let my head sink back upon her lap. She didn’t seem to
mind, so I let it stay there. I had the sky full in my eyes, all blue and gold, and I could feel
Marie’s stomach rising and falling gently under my head. We must have stayed a good half-
hour on the raft, both of us half asleep. When the sun got too hot she dived off and I followed.
I caught up with her, put my arm round her waist, and we swam side by side. She was still
laughing.
While we were drying ourselves on the edge of the swimming pool she said: “I’m browner
than you.” I asked her if she’d come to the movies with me that evening. She laughed again
and said, “Yes,” if I’d take her to the comedy everybody was talking about, the one with
Fernandel in it.
When we had dressed, she stared at my black tie and asked if I was in mourning. I
explained that my mother had died. “When?” she asked, and I said, “Yesterday.” She made no
remark, though I thought she shrank away a little. I was just going to explain to her that it
wasn’t my fault, but I checked myself, as I remembered having said the same thing to my
employer, and realizing then it sounded rather foolish. Still, foolish or not, somehow one can’t
help feeling a bit guilty, I suppose.
Anyhow, by evening Marie had forgotten all about it. The film was funny in parts, but
some of it was downright stupid. She pressed her leg against mine while we were in the
picture house, and I was fondling her breast. Toward the end of the show I kissed her, but
rather clumsily. Afterward she came back with me to my place.
 When I woke up, Marie had gone. She’d told me her aunt expected her first thing in the
morning. I remembered it was a Sunday, and that put me off; I’ve never cared for Sundays. So
I turned my head and lazily sniffed the smell of brine that Marie’s head had left on the pillow.
I slept until ten. After that I stayed in bed until noon, smoking cigarettes. I decided not to
lunch at Céleste’s restaurant as I usually did; they’d be sure to pester me with questions, and I
dislike being questioned. So I fried some eggs and ate them off the pan. I did without bread as
there wasn’t any left, and I couldn’t be bothered going down to buy it.
After lunch I felt at loose ends and roamed about the little flat. It suited us well enough
when Mother was with me, but now that I was by myself it was too large and I’d moved the
dining table into my bedroom. That was now the only room I used; it had all the furniture I
needed: a brass bedstead, a dressing table, some cane chairs whose seats had more or less
caved in, a wardrobe with a tarnished mirror. The rest of the flat was never used, so I didn’t
trouble to look after it.
A bit later, for want of anything better to do, I picked up an old newspaper that was lying
on the floor and read it. There was an advertisement of Kruschen Salts and I cut it out and
pasted in into an album where I keep things that amuse me in the papers. Then I washed my
hands and, as a last resource, went out on to the balcony.
My bedroom overlooks the main street of our district. Though it was a fine afternoon, the
paving blocks were black and glistening. What few people were about seemed in an absurd
hurry. First of all there came a family, going for their Sunday-afternoon walk; two small boys
in sailor suits, with short trousers hardly down to their knees, and looking rather uneasy in
their Sunday best; then a little girl with a big pink bow and black patent-leather shoes. Behind
them was their mother, an enormously fat woman in a brown silk dress, and their father, a
dapper little man, whom I knew by sight. He had a straw hat, a walking stick, and a butterfly
tie. Seeing him beside his wife, I understood why people said he came of a good family and
had married beneath him.
Next came a group of young fellows, the local “bloods,” with sleek oiled hair, red ties,
coats cut very tight at the waist, braided pockets, and square-toed shoes. I guessed they were
going to one of the big theaters in the center of the town. That was why they had started out so
early and were hurrying to the streetcar stop, laughing and talking at the top of their voices.
After they had passed, the street gradually emptied. By this time all the matinees must have
begun. Only a few shopkeepers and cats remained about. Above the sycamores bordering the
road the sky was cloudless, but the light was soft. The tobacconist on the other side of the
street brought a chair out on to the pavement in front of his door and sat astride it, resting his
arms on the back. The streetcars which a few minutes before had been crowded were now
almost empty. In the little café,
Chez Pierrot, beside the tobacconist’s, the waiter was sweeping up the sawdust in the empty
restaurant. A typical Sunday afternoon. ...
I turned my chair round and seated myself like the tobacconist, as it was more comfortable
that way. After smoking a couple of cigarettes I went back to the room, got a tablet of
chocolate, and returned to the window to eat it. Soon after, the sky clouded over, and I
thought a summer storm was coming. However, the clouds gradually lifted. All the same, they
had left in the street a sort of threat of rain, which made it darker. I stayed watching the sky
for quite a while.
At five there was a loud clanging of streetcars. They were coming from the stadium in our
suburb where there had been a football match. Then another streetcar brought back the teams.
I knew they were the players by the little suitcase each man carried. They were bawling out
their team song, “Keep the ball rolling, boys.” One of them looked up at me and shouted, “We
licked them!” I waved my hand and called back, “Good work!” From now on there was a
steady stream of private cars.
The sky had changed again; a reddish glow was spreading up beyond the housetops. As
dusk set in, the street grew more crowded. People were returning from their walks, and I
noticed the dapper little man with the fat wife amongst the passersby. Children were
whimpering and trailing wearily after their parents. After some minutes the local picture
houses disgorged their audiences. I noticed that the young fellows coming from them were
taking longer strides and gesturing more vigorously than at ordinary times; doubtless the
picture they’d been seeing was of the wild-West variety. Those who had been to the picture
houses in the middle of the town came a little later, and looked more sedate, though a few
were still laughing. On the whole, however, they seemed languid and exhausted. Some of
them remained loitering in the street under my window. A group of girls came by, walking
arm in arm. The young men under my window swerved so as to brush against them, and
shouted humorous remarks, which made the girls turn their heads and giggle. I recognized
them as girls from my part of the town, and two or three of them, whom I knew, looked up
and waved to me.
Just then the street lamps came on, all together, and they made the stars that were
beginning to glimmer in the night sky paler still. I felt my eyes getting tired, what with the
lights and all the movement I’d been watching in the street. There were little pools of
brightness under the lamps, and now and then a streetcar passed, lighting up a girl’s hair, or a
smile, or a silver bangle.
Soon after this, as the streetcars became fewer and the sky showed velvety black above the
trees and lamps, the street grew emptier, almost imperceptibly, until a time came when there
was nobody to be seen and a cat, the first of the evening, crossed, unhurrying, the deserted
street. It struck me that I’d better see about some dinner. I had been leaning so long on the
back of my chair, looking down, that my neck hurt when I straightened myself up. I went
down, bought some bread and spaghetti, did my cooking, and ate my meal standing. I’d
intended to smoke another cigarette at my window, but the night had turned rather chilly and I
decided against it. As I was coming back, after shutting the window, I glanced at the mirror
and saw reflected in it a corner of my table with my spirit lamp and some bits of bread beside
it. It occurred to me that somehow I’d got through another Sunday, that Mother now was
buried, and tomorrow I’d be going back to work as usual. Really, nothing in my life had
changed.
 Stranac II

Probudivši se, shvatio sam zašto je šef bio onako nezadovoljan kad sam zatražio dva
dana odmora - danas je subota. To sam bio tako reći zaboravio, ali kad sam ustao, pala mi je
na pamet ta misao. On je, posve razumljivo, izračunao da ću s nedjeljom imati četiri dana
dana odmora, a to mu nije bilo pravo. Ali, s jedne strane, nisam ja kriv što su mamu pokopali
juče a ne danas, a s druge strane, ionako bih bio slobodan u subotu i nedjelju. Razumije se
samo po sebi da ga ipak razumijem.
Bilo mi je teško ustati jer sam bio umoran od jučerašnjeg dana. Dok sam se brijao,
pitao sam se šta da radim, pa sam naumio da pođem na kupanje. Odvezao sam se tramvajem u
lučko kupalište. Tu sam skočio u kanal.
Bilo je mnogo mlađarije. U vodi sam našao Mariju Cardonu, daktilografkinju koja je
nekad radila u našoj kancelariji i koju sam tada želio. A i ona mene, čini mi se. Ali je uskoro
otišla od nas pa nismo stigli ništa učiniti.
Pomogao sam joj da se popne na bovu, i usput sam joj očešao rukom grudi. Bio sam
još u vodi, a ona je već ležala potrbuške na bovi. Okrenula mi se. Kosa joj je bila pala na oči i
smijala se. Uspeo sam se na bovu i legao do nje. Bilo je lijepo, i kao u šali zabacio sam glavu
i spustio je na njen trbuh. Nije ništa rekla pa sam tako ostao. Cijelo mi je nebo bilo pred
očima, modro i zlatno. Ispod potiljka sam osjećao lagano kucanje u Marijinom trbuhu. Dugo
smo ostali na bovi drijemajući. Kad je sunce pripeklo, ona je skočila u vodu a ja za njom.
Sustigao sam je i uhvatio je oko struka, pa smo zajedno plivali. Još uvijek se smijala.
Dok smo se na keju sušili, reče mi: „Crnja sam od Vas.“ Upitao sam je bi li htjela
naveče poći u kino sa mnom. Opet se nasmijala i rekla da bi htjela pogledati jedan film u
kojem igra Fernandel.
Kad smo se obukli, začudila se što vidi na meni crnu kravatu, i upitala me jesam li u
žalosti. Rekoh joj da mi je mama umrla. „Kada?“, upitala je, pa sam joj odgovorio: „ Juče.“
Malko se ustuknula, ali nije ništa kazala. Htjedoh joj reći da nisam ja tome kriv, ali se
obuzdah jer se sjetih da sam to već rekao šefu. Nije važno. Uostalom, čovjek je uvijek pomalo
kriv.
Naveče je Marija bila već sve zaboravila. Film je na trenutke bio smiješan, a zapravo
vrlo glup. Ona je pritisnula nogu uz moju. Milovao sam joj grudi. Pred kraj filma sam je
zagrlio, ali nespretno. Kad smo izašli, pošla je sa mnom u moj stan.
Kad sam se probudio, Marija je već bila otišla. Bila mi je rekla da mora otići do tetke.
Sjetio sam se da je nedjelja, pa sam se oneraspoložio -ne volim nedjelju. Okrenuo sam se u
postelji ne bih li na jastuku osjetio miris soli iz Marijine kose, i spavao sam do deset sati.
Zatim sam pušio u postelji sve do podne. Nisam htio ručati kod Celesta kao obično jer bi me
zacijelo svašta zapitkivali, a to ne volim. Ispržio sam sebi jaja i pojeo ih iz same tave, bez
hljeba jer ga više nisam imao, a nije mi se dalo silaziti da ga kupim.
Nakon ručka sam se malo dosađivao i tumarao po stanu. Stan je bio ugodan dok je
mama bila u njemu. Sad je prevelik za mene, pa sam prenio sto iz trpezarije u svoju sobu.
Boravim samo u toj sobi, među stolicama postavljenima poderanom slamom, ormarom na
kojem je ogledalo požutjelo, toaletnim stolićem i posteljom. Ostali dijelovi stana nisu nikada
korišteni, pa nisam mario za njih.
Maloprije, da skratim vrijeme, uzeo sam neke stare novine i čitao. Izrezao sam
reklamu za Kruschenove soli i zalijepo je u staru bilježnicu, gdje čuvam stvari iz novina koje
me zanimaju. Oprao sam ruke i na kraju izišao na balkon.
Moja soba gleda na glavnu ulicu predgrađa. Bilo je lijepo popodne. Međutim, pločnik
je bio zamazan, a prolaznici rijetki i još užurbani. Bile su to uglavnom porodice koje su izišle
u šetnju, dva dječaka u mornarskim odijelima, s bermudama do ispod koljena, pomalo sputani
u svojoj krutoj odjeći, i djevojčica s velikom ružičastom mašnom, u crnim lakiranim
cipelama. Za njima golema majka, u smeđoj svilenoj haljini, i otac, uredno obučen čovjek
kojeg poznajem iz viđenja. Nosio je slamnat šešir ravna oboda i leptir kravatu, a u ruci štap.
Gledajući ga tako sa ženom, shvatio sam zašto u našoj četvrti govore onjemu da je otmjen.
Nešto kasnije prođoše mladići iz predgrađa, zalizane kose i crvenih kravata, u
kaputima pripijenim uz tijelo, s izvezenim rupčićem u džepiću i u cipelama kockastog vrha.
Pomislio sam da idu u jedno od velikih pozorišta u centru grada. Zato su i krenuli tako rano i
žurili se na tramvaj smijući se grohotom.
Iza njih je ulica malo-pomalo opustjela. Bit će da su predstave posvuda već počele. Na
ulici su ostali samo trgovčići i mačke. Nebo je bilo vedro, ali bez sjaja, ponad smokava uz rub
ceste. Na pločniku preko puta trafikant je iznio stolac, postavio ga pred vrata, opkročio ga i
nalaktio se na naslon. Još maloprije puni tramvaji bili su sad gotovo prazni. U kafani »Kod
Pierotta«, pokraj trafike, konobar je u pustoj dvorani meo piljevinu. Uobičajeno nedeljno
popodne. ...
Okrenuo sam stolac i postavio ga isto onako kao i trafikant, jer sam zaključio da je
tako udobnije sjediti. Popušio sam dvije cigarete, ušao u sobu da uzmem komadić čokolade i
vratio se da je pojedem na prozoru. Malo zatim nebo se naoblačilo pa sam pomislio da će
izbiti ljetna oluja. Malo-pomalo se ipak razvedrilo. Ali, prolazak oblaka kao da je nagovijestio
kišu pa je na ulici postalo mračnije. Dugo sam posmatrao nebo.
U pet sati tramvaji su počeli bučno pristizati. Dovozili su sa stadiona iz predgrađa skupine
gledalaca gdje je bio fudbalski meč. Idućim tramvajima vraćali su se igrači koje sam
prepoznao po njihovim kovčežićima. Derali su se i pjevali iz sveg grla da njihov klub neće
nikad propasti. Jedan od njih me pogledao i doviknuo, „Sredili smo ih!“ Klimnuo sam
glavom i odgovorio, „Dobar posao!“ Tada su počeli pristizati brojni automobili.
Nebo se opet promjenilo, iznad krovova zažarilo, a kako je padao mrak, ulice su
oživjele, šetači su se pomalo vraćali. Zapazio sam, među ostalima, opet onog otmjenog
gospodina. Djeca su plakala ili su ih morali vući. Odmah zatim iz kina u našoj četvrti izlio se
val gledalaca. Među njima su mladići mahali rukama odlučnije nego obično, pa sam zaključio
da su gledali nekakav pustolovni film. Oni koji su se vraćali iz kina u gradu
stigli su nešto kasnije. Činili su mi se nekako ozbiljniji. Još su se smijali, ali su na mahove bili
nekako umorni i zamišljeni. Zadržavali su se na ulici, hodajući gore-dolje po pločniku preko
puta. Gologlave djevojke iz naše četvrti držale su se za ruke. Mladići su se poredali da im
presijeku put i dobacivali im šale kojima su se one smijale okrećući glave. Neke su me od
njih, moje poznanice, pozdravljale.
Ubrzo nakon toga se upališe ulične svjetiljke, a od njihova blijeska poblijedješe prve
zvijezde što su sinule u noći. Osjetih da su mi se oči zamorile od gledanja pločnika punih ljudi
i svjetla. Vlažni pločnik blistao je na svjetlu, a tramvaji su u pravilnim razmacima bacali
odsjaj na nečiju sjajnu kosu, na pokoji smiješak ili srebrnu narukvicu. Tramvaji su sve rjeđe
prolazili, mrkla se noć spustila na drveće i svjetiljke, četvrt se neopazice praznila, sve dok
prva mačka ne prijeđe lagano preko iznova opustjele ulice. Tada pomislih da bi trebalo
večerati. Malo me bolio vrat što sam onoliko sjedio naslonjen na stolici. Siđoh da kupim
hljeba i tjestenine, napravih večeru i pojedoh je stojećki. Htjedoh popušiti cigaretu na prozoru,
ali je bilo zahladjelo pa mi je bilo malo hladno. Zatvorih prozore, a u prolazu opazih u
ogledalu dio stola na kojem su, kraj svjetiljke na žestu, ležali komadići hljeba. Pomislih da je
prošla još jedna mučna nedjelja, da je mama već pokopana, da ću ponovo na posao i da se, sve
u svemu, ništa nije promijenilo.