Ian invited everyone to meet at the Little Sava’s pub because he’s leaving early tomorrow morning. He says his workplace is like a circus. If things fall apart, only those two colleagues who are never around will survive. He’s moving to Vienna. He already landed a job there.
We all chipped in to buy Ian a gift. Max was running late. While it was just Elena and me, we mentioned how our game had likely improved because Max had so many requests, some of which were actually justified. But when Max arrived, we didn’t tell him that. He arrived and declared, “People who sleep late are worth waiting for.”
A lot of people were moving abroad for work. It was the same in Banja Luka. My uncle says it’s important for as many people as possible to leave. I brought up his viewpoint. Elena asked why he thought it was good for people to leave. I asked him earlier and he did not manage to answer, the conversation went In other direction. I joked that maybe it was to reduce pollution from overcrowding, but my uncle said that wasn’t the reason. I thought it might be related to his theory that my friend group doesn’t stand upright but instead rotates at a twenty-three-degree angle around Uncle Dane, their source of energy. But it wasn’t that, either.
Elena asked if it might have something to do with roof he made. I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t see the connection.
Then she remembered that my grandfather used to make bricks. She asked if the roof had anything to do with bricks.
“I don’t know. All I know is that everything my uncle says and does makes sense, but I often don’t understand what that sense is. His actions are like free jazz—off-key to me, but he’s actually more in tune than anyone. He just has his own scale. It’s probably good that people are leaving, but I don’t know why. I’ll ask him.”
We bought Ian a thermos bottle. Max wrote on the card: “I long to walk down your street, at 4:20, like we used to..”
For much of the evening, Ian retold office anecdotes, almost as if he were justifying why he had to leave. His freshest memory was the arrival of the new color scanner-copier. Ever since it was installed, the older colleagues had been copying newspapers on it. Now they only buy one copy of the paper each morning and make duplicates for everyone.
Ian left first because of his early trip. There wasn’t much of a big farewell or sentimentality. He’s heading to a good position, and the move is beneficial for his career. But when we shook hands, I noticed everyone’s eyes were slightly damp.
As soon as Ian left, Elena turned to me and asked, “What was a married woman in a Partizan jersey doing at your apartment?”
I realized Mirna had a boyfriend.
“Elena, I have no idea why she came by—ask her. And she’s not exactly married.”
At this, Max said Elena applies the scientific method to every sphere of life. She always questions whether something is true, whether it could be better, and she tests and verifies everything. And when something is proven, if new evidence emerges pointing to a different truth, she reopens the issue and reevaluates everything all over again. I sarcastically added that this process is totally not exhausting.
I can’t deny that Elena’s critical nature was starting to wear on me. I even thought that if I ended up working with my uncle and moved out of Novi Sad, I wouldn’t miss that part too much. Max had also worn me out this year with his constant demands. Now that we’ve finished programming the game, things are a bit more relaxed again. I think it’s an achievement that we’re still hanging out, able to set the game aside and talk about other things.
When I got home, I saw a message from Abigail. She said she’s still working out the concept of the game and that the document detailing what needs to be developed isn’t ready yet. I replied that there was no rush on my end and that it’s good to define everything thoroughly before starting the project.
