Elena steals flowers from in front of houses. That’s how it was this morning while we were walking in Grbavica. The gates of the yard were open, and velvet flowers were visible in the yard. She entered without thinking. It’s the same as with the big wooden gates of the yards or apartment buildings. Whenever she sees them, she must take a photo at that spot. It’s like a reflex. We were waiting for her in front of the gates and Max was talking about the TV subscription.
“The problem with subscriptions is that we all pay the same TV network. And then they make programs for everyone. Imagine making the same lunch for everyone. What would it be? Maybe potatoes and schnitzels. That simply doesn’t suit everyone. It might even bother some. The residents should choose who they will pay a subscription to. Every TV, radio, or newspaper should be able to receive a subscription. Do you know what that would bring? We would have a jazz radio that would survive without a problem. We would have a quality TV channel dedicated to video games. Look, there are two thousand people in the country whose main hobby is some video game or social game. Do you know what a small percentage of the population that is? With two thousand subscriptions, a specialized radio or magazine for that hobby could be sustained. Everyone wins. Some would even get much more than they need to survive, and they would have the chance to improve, to constantly progress. And so, slowly, you create an export product. Abroad, they also want specialized programs; that market segment exists.”
It seemed like I was the only one uncomfortable with Elena being in someone else’s yard.
“Max, someone is going to shoot at us one day like this.”
“No, they won’t. Women are hard to decide on shooting, and if a man saw her, he’d be glad she’s stealing in his yard.”
“Yeah. It’s hard to imagine professor Anđelić approving her exchange.”
“The other day, the topic with Iovana and Ian’s girlfriend was how to show up for that committee interview. Without makeup and dressed a bit poorly.”
“The problem is, if she wore a tent-like coat, her figure would still show. Useless.”
Elena finally appeared with flowers that had soil at the bottom to transplant.
“What are you two talking about?”
“About respect.”
Max had an answer ready.
“What kind of respect?”
“In general, what is respect? Is it necessary, why does it exist? Who should we respect?”
“Who do you respect, Maxim?”
“Uncle Boshko. He’s the first person who comes to mind. And you?”
“Professor Biljana.”
“Biljana the witch?”
“Yes. Somethings tells me that if I respect her, I won’t have to respect anyone else if I don’t want to.”
We were supposed to go to Fruška Gora1 when Max’s phone rang.
“We’ve been invited to Petar’s current work place. He’s in the city center.”
Now we wouldn’t make it to Fruška Gora to sit under our project tree. We called it that because we often sat there and talked about our game. Elena was fine with not going, as she was trying to convince us to go to Štrand2 instead. On the way to Petar’s place, we talked about how none of us knew what we would be doing in October. We didn’t know if something positive would happen with the game. Elena didn’t know if she would stay at our university or get the exchange, in which case she would leave her job. Max hoped his girlfriend from Brazil would come to Novi Sad; he didn’t consider the scenario where she wouldn’t come, and my uncle had again mentioned that he had something good for me, but I would have to return to Banja Luka and work there. He said it wouldn’t be hard, and I could also work on something of my own while on the job. I realized my parents would also like me to return. They were always worried about whether I was eating properly. Max said it was important to always have something hot on a spoon, and then he started laughing loudly.
We arrived at Petar’s place. He was with an artist from the Netherlands. Her most famous work so far had been dressing children’s dolls in prostitutes’ clothes. Petar, of course, was still photographing and adding text over the photos. Now she was sewing the clothes for the dolls, and then Petar would photograph them and add text. They had combined their work. All of this was funded by some European organization.
When we left the gallery, rented for this artistic project, I loudly asked,
“What did I just see?”
Max said I was jealous. Elena said I wasn’t jealous, that it wasn’t my character. She said I was primitive.
“I love being primitive.”
Max switched to my side.
“Gari, the Western civilization reminds me of the old decadent empires just before their fall. Let’s go to Štrand. Into the cold water.”
After a short silence, he referred back to our conversation before entering the gallery, and I think, to the gallery conversations too.
“No matter what happens in October, no matter what we end up doing, our lives are going in the right direction.”
1 A small mountain south of Novi Sad.
2 Strand is a city beach on river Danube in Novi Sad.
