CHAPTER 18 - One Last Try

"PAUL, moc nadržený. You are stupid shit man."
"Fuck you, Pavel! What are you talking about?" It was Wednesday afternoon. Pavel and I had agreed to meet every Wednesday, somewhere in the center, in order to exchange lessons in complicated grammatical theory. One hour of Czech for one hour of English. This was our first class and in a café-restaurant we had chosen that we both knew. Unfortunately, I told Pavel, I couldn’t stay for more then three hours. Char had invited me over to her and Luke’s place for the evening. She was vegetarian too and had promised some good eats.
"Paul, is one woman this Eva. Why you go crazy? Is incredible one girls go... What it word?" Pavel contorted his face in thought, "Always stay wif same man. What is word?"
"What?"
"Like Eva. You say wif..."
"With ..." I cut him short. "Look, you keep saying wiF, but its wiTH. TH. Put your tongue between your teeth like this – TH, TH, TH! With."
"Yes, yes. Fank you. TH, TH, TH. With."
"Better."
"Yes, wiTH.. Fank you very much... So, what I say before? Yes! So what is word? Like Eva. You say wiTH boyfriend. Always and don’t leave. What is word?"
"Better. Um, I think the word you’re looking for is ‘faithful’."
"Yes, yes. You choosing one girl is faithful. Is incredible! All Czech girls is no and you want one is faithful. Why?"
I couldn’t really answer Pavel. I didn’t know myself. I just shrugged my shoulder and went to take a sip from my coffee cup. Nothing. I had finished it without even realizing it. The waiter came over and took away the cup. Pavel said something to him.
"Paul, you hungry?"
"No, no."
"Firsty?"
"Well, yeah. I guess a little."
"Dvě piva, prosím," he told the waiter.
"No, no! No beer! We came here to study, remember?" I interrupted before the waiter had a chance to leave.
"Oh, Paul. Come. Is Czech Republic. Beer is good. So? We have only one. Only one."
"Well, okay. Only one," I agreed with Pavel and the waiter went on his way.
Pavel kept shaking his head. "I no understand Paul, why go crazy for Eva. I know, is nice Czech girl. Very beautiful. But is no sexiest girl. In Prague, there is many sexy girls! And many more wiTH sexiest!" he finished and winked at me.
"Yeah, yeah. I know Pavel." I couldn’t respond with a logical thought. Everything Pavel was telling me was what I already knew. I had given the advice he was giving me to countless others and had regarded it as sound. If the tables were turned, I’d be telling Pavel the same thing. It’s just that it didn’t seem to click. It never does when Eros takes control. "But I have a chance. I’m sure I can still get Eva! She invited me to her birthday party this weekend. Why would she do that? She must still want me. I’ll do it, Pavel, trust me! I’ll use some of that Repy magic!"
Pavel shook his head disapprovingly. The waiter dropped off two half-liters of beer and Pavel grabbed his and lifted it, "Nazdraví."
We both took a long, refreshing gulp. "Anyway, forget it. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s study. I’ll teach you some English grammar first. I was thinking about starting with something basic like Present Simple and Present Continuous."
"Yes, is okay. But first, you know who call me yesterday?"
"No, who?"
"Eva! No your Eva but Horní Planá Eva! She want sex!"
"No way! Really? How long has it been since you’ve talked to her?"
"Long time. Since New Year. But she call me and say, ‘When you will come to Horní Planá again?’ She is very, very... nadržený. Shit! How you say, Paul?"
"Horny."
"Yes, yes. I know. Very horny and wanting sex... Like you!!"
"Ha. Ha. Very funny Pavel."
"Why? Is no true? How long you have with no sex?"
"Since I came here."
"Shit!" Pavel couldn’t believe his ears. "Is many monfs!" He took another long sip of beer. "Is because you only think Eva. You have other nice student in class, yes?"
"Well yeah. I’ve already told you. A few are pretty sexy."
"And everywheres in Prague is sexy girls too. Why you don’t forget Eva and go..."
I didn’t learn much Czech that afternoon and Pavel didn’t learn that much English. We just sat there, talking about women and our lives, ordering one beer after another. We had a number of laughs and forgot completely that this was meant to be our first English/Czech grammar lesson. In fact, it was our last. We never taught each other a single grammar point until the day I left. Wednesdays, or at least the Wednesdays we managed to meet, turned into nothing more than a chance for two friends to meet, drink, talk, and pass the afternoon away.
Well after the sun had set on that particular Wednesday, we paid for our drinks and food (two bowls of salted nuts), stumbled outdoors, and headed our seperate ways towards home – content with sleeping until morning.
Luke sent me a text message the next day telling me that Char swore she would never invite me to dinner again.

Saturday soon came around and I still had no idea what to buy Eva for her birthday. I figured I would just leave the Dum an hour before her party was scheduled to begin and wander the streets with the hope of finding something nice and within my price range, namely, two hundred koruna (around six bucks).
And so, I soon found myself strolling up and down Václavské námestí, the commercial center of Prague, unable to afford any shop window diversion that seemed to suit my needs. What could I get her? It needed to be nice and worthy of such a beautiful creature, but not too extravagant. Not only didn’t I have the money for extravagance, but I didn’t want her to think I was trying too hard either. I still had to preserve some of my dignity. Still had to use, or at least try and use, some Řepy magic. A cheap ring or necklace? No, it would be too cheap. A book? Not exactly seductive. A box of chocolates? Too overdone. Fuck it. I’d buy her some flowers. Girls always love flowers and, more importantly, they wouldn’t be over the top.
But, after I had already bought a few roses, it hit me. What would my little Eva like even more than flowers? Water! A nice liter of bottled spring water! Crystal clear and beautiful, just like my beautiful hydrologist-to-be. I bought the sealed bottle and headed off to meet her, flowers and H²O in hand.
The bar was already half-filled with Eva's friends. She had reserved a room with two large tables towards the back. I walked in and searched for my princess. She was standing in the middle of one room, surrounded by other girls, talking away. She looked absolutely stunning – as usual. Her long blonde hair, creamy skin and, of course, skin tight clothes. As I approached her, she noticed me, broke off from her conversation, and hurried towards me.
"Paul!" She came up to me, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me on the cheek.
Whatthefuck briefly formed on my face. No kiss on the lips? I thought it was customary? Custom, damn it! "Um, these are for you Eva," and gave her the flowers. "Happy Birthday." I glanced around and saw the tables were already covered with flowers.
"Thank you," she smiled politely and smelled them. Then she leaned over the table closest to her and placed them alongside the countless other flora.
Good job, I thought. Real unique with those three roses. "But, I have something else for you too! I think you’re really gonna like it."
"Yes? What?" her eyes lit up. I knew she would love it. I took out the bottle of water from the bag I was carrying and gave it to her. She lost that look of anticipation, turned the bottle around with her delicate fingers a while, and looked up at me with a newfound look of confusion. "Water?"
"Well, well... It’s not just water. It’s special water. Bottled in the Alps. Well, at least I think that’s what the label says – you know I can’t read Czech. And it’s glacial water too. You know, with a lot of minerals and properties and stuff." What an idiot I must have been! What was I thinking? A bottle of water?! Who the fuck buys a bottle of water as a birthday present?!?
But just as these thoughts started to overwhelm my brain, Eva broke out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I’d never seen her laugh so hard before. "Water! Ha ha ha!" She turned around, said something in Czech which caught everyone’s attention, and raised the bottle of water for all to see. The room filled with boisterous guffaws. Eva turned back around and hugged me once again, "It’s great joke, Paul! Great!! I like these jokes very much!"
"Yeah, well. You know... I, um, I try."
Once the laughter died down, Eva took me around the tables and introduced me to everyone. Her friends all seemed nice enough and congratulated me on thinking of such a funny birthday present. I told them it was nothing. Finally, she introduced me to the group of girls she had been talking to before I arrived. Two of them were other students from our class and gave me a friendly "Hello Paul!" followed by a hug and kiss on the lips. The others, after I had been introduced, gave Eva an inquisitive ‘so-THIS-is-Paul’ look and started whispering amongst themselves.
Eva told me I could sit down at one of the tables if I wanted, which I did, while she went to get me a beer. The girls standing in the middle of the room, including my two students, Petra and Lenka, immediately started chatting again, interrupted only by the occasional giggle or glance in my direction. Everyone else around me resumed their conversations as well. As I sat there, waiting for my beer and isolated in my English-speaking mind, I could wish for nothing more than to be able to speak at least some Czech. The damn language was too difficult. I guess my lesson with Pavel earlier in the week hadn’t really paid off the much.
Eva soon returned with my beer and that was the last I saw of her for the next few hours. Well, not exactly. I kept watching her sitting or standing and speaking, imagining what she looked like without any clothes on and what I would do with her during a passionate night alone. But she was too busy for me, only occasionally glancing in my direction to see if I was okay because she was too wrapped up in her own celebration and friends. After all, it was her birthday.
Some of the people sitting at the table with me eventually started talking to me. They asked me the same old questions I had been hearing since the day I had arrived in Prague: What are you doing here? Do you like the Czech Republic? Where are you from? Tell us some differences between Philadelphia and Prague. And I, of course, answered with the same old responses: Exploring the world. It’s very nice here. Philadelphia, the United States. Prague has older buildings and better beer. We chatted about other things in general too, but my eyes kept wandering towards Eva. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t stop looking at her. I knew I had to take Pavel’s advice and just focus on getting another girl, but I couldn’t. I needed something else to lure her. Something spectacular. Something that would make me, once and for all, stand out above and beyond her boyfriend. Something that would place me on such a high pedestal that she would forget fidelity altogether. Then it came to me. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Of course! Chicks love money – as Marilyn said, "Diamonds are a girl’s best friend!" But I couldn’t do it now. I couldn’t tell her now. She was too busy. So I just waited, bided my time, speaking to the people around me and building up my courage with alcohol.
Eventually, Eva sat down by my side. About three hours had passed since I had first arrived and, although I wasn’t completely drunk, I was well on my way there and the false courage it provided.
"Sorry, Paul. I am very busy today with friends. You are okay?" as she showed me that angelic smile of hers. How could I ever not be okay when she was around?
"Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it. I mean, it is your birthday. I understand."
Her smile grew brighter and melted my heart. Or, rather, my loins. "You are having a good time?"
My eyes kept wandering south of her face and onto her chest each time I tried to look into her eyes. I would have loved to grab them right there and then. Her breasts, I told myself, not her eyes. Alcohol will do that to you too. "Yeah, everything’s great. I’m having a wonderful time. Thanks for inviting me."
"Is nothing," Eva lost her smile for a moment, "Listen, Paul. I want to say something to you. Is about last week. I am sorry. I do like you like we say, a lot. But I have boyfriend. You understand? I must to wait for him."
"Eva," I cut in as soon as I could, "Don’t even talk about it. Of course I understand," and I gently placed my hand on her firm leg to show her that I sympathized. God, I loved sympathizing with Czechs.
That smile reappeared on her face instantly. "Thank you Paul. You are very nice."
"Yeah..." I slowly gulped down some beer and stared blankly at the table in front of me.
"What is wrong, Paul? You are sad? Why?"
Of course I was sad. And I’m sure she knew why. But then it hit me. Now was the time to act. To use my secret weapon. The one I hadn’t thought of before that night. The moment was right. "Ah, nothing," I sighed. "I was just... just thinking about something that happened a while ago back home."
"What is it? Do you want to talk about it?"
"Well, I don’t know..."
"If you want. I will not tell any persons." Her curiosity was building. I would tell her now. The time had come.
I looked up from the table, straight into Eva’s eyes with a piercing gaze and asked, "Okay, but promise me you won’t tell anyone, right? No one knows about this." That much was almost true. Outside of the person that had lived with me at the time in Georgia, Luke (and I guessed now his girlfriend Char too), my parents, and Marie – the only other person I had ever told – no one was the wiser.
"Yes, of course. I promise you, Paul. What is it?"
"Well, it’s about money," I smirked, sat up straight, and finished what was left of my beer. "Three years ago. You know how much money I made nearly three years ago? How much I declared earned at the end of the year?"
"No. How much?"
"Two hundred and fifty thousand Dollars," I let the number sink in.
"What is it in koruna?" She did the calculations quickly in her head and, the moment she had worked out the numbers, her jaw dropped. "Seven millions koruna! You made seven millions koruna in one year?! You still have this money?"
"No, none of it. But I can make it again. Just as easily. The thing is... I don’t really want to."
"But why no Paul?" Eva was more curious than ever. "How did you made this money?"
Then I realized why I didn’t like recalling that fateful year in my head or, even worse, telling others about it. Most people didn’t understand. You can’t really unless you’ve lived it. All that money and for no work at all. Many spend their entire lives trying to get that kind of cash. To be on the top. But when it comes so easily, so quickly, and with no effort, you change. You don’t realize it, but you do. I would always question myself, analyze, probe, when thoughts went back to that period in my life. Was it just in me, or was it in Everyman? It was a difficult topic to talk about with anyone, especially with myself. And so, from that moment on, the discussion definitively turned away from me trying to impress Eva. I suppose that, subconsciously, I had known it would take that course all along. This would no longer be a conversation between me and the beautiful creature I yearned for by my side. No, it would become an introspection, a conversation of sorts between me and Everyman. Eva faded into the distance and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Instead of her, Everyman was now sitting by my side.

"Well, I made the money on the stock market. I started with only two thousand dollars and worked my way up. I know, I know. It sounds incredible. All in a little less than a year’s time. But all you really need is research. It’s true what they say, you know. Knowledge is power. And, man, was it easy. Too easy."
"Sure. But that sounds a bit too easy. I mean, what exactly did you do?"
"Well, it’s a little complicated, but basically, I just took advantage of stocks that were already going up. Already booming and full of momentum. I discovered this technique after about a month of just tracking different sectors, different percentage gainers and losers, and by taking meticulous notes. When I was sure, I opened a brokerage account and put it into practice. After that, whenever I spotted some share performance that fit my criteria, I jumped on for a ride – never longer than a day or two – and then quickly cashed out. It was nothing but profits after profits. And always exponential. But I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the Internet. Information at your fingertips... While everyone else was locked away in their dorm-rooms downloading porn and playing RPGs, I was searching for stock tips."
"Wow. Incredible! Do you still have the money?"
"No. Like I said before, it’s all gone. Every last penny. You see, I kept the money in the same brokerage account, my one and only investment account. It was with an online brokerage firm. Well, about ten months after I had started investing – it was sometime in February, a cold and snowy February day I’ll never forget – I placed an order to sell some shares I had purchased the day before. It was for a small profit, about four thousand dollars (I was used to far greater trading gains by that time). So, I placed my order with my online brokerage, clicked for it to go through, logged off, and went to my afternoon class confident that another four thousand dollars would be waiting for me once I got home.
"It wasn’t. What I found was that my account had actually gone down by fifty-five thousand dollars! The share price had plummeted about a half-hour after I had placed my order, but the brokerage hadn’t executed. I, in fact, still owned the shares. I called the brokerage in New York. I was furious, but no response. The line was busy. When I clicked on the website again, the page went blank. A malfunctioned website and busy phone line. There was nothing to do but keep trying. And so, after continuously refreshing the brokerage’s webpage, to no avail, and continuously dialing their Wall Street offices, I finally got though to an operator – three hours after the market had closed. My fifty-five thousand Dollar loss had become a ninety thousand Dollar loss... over one-third of my year-old fortune gone!
"I complained and complained, asking to speak to everyone’s director, and telling them all, unequivocally, that I would not be forced to take a ninety thousand dollar loss because, first, they had ignored my order-to-sell for thirty minutes and, subsequently, were unable to execute due to technical difficulties. They told me to sell my shares the next day, take the loss, and that they would ‘look into it.’ I refused, telling that I wouldn’t sell, I wouldn’t do anything, unless I had a guarantee they would reimburse me. The next day, the stock opened at half its value."
"And what did you do?"
"Nothing. What could I do? I phoned the brokerage again and told them I would not sell my shares, not take such a large loss, on account of their inaptitude."
"So, what happened in the end?"
"Well, a week later, the company which had issued those shares shut its doors to the public, was delisted from the NASDAQ, and forced to liquidate. I too, was forced to liquidate because, by that time, the brokerage had taken action against me and frozen my account."
"What are you trying to say? That you lost all the money, all two hundred and fifty thousand?"
"Yes... Well, not exactly. I sued the brokerage for negligence and breach of duty. I wanted my two hundred and fifty thousand dollars back. But then, the bastards, they counter-sued me a week later, claiming that I should have cut my losses short the day after our disagreement and not waited until the shares dropped to zero. In fact, they were asking ME for fifty thousand dollars because, they claimed, they had also taken losses due to the fact that I had hung on to the shares for so long."
"What? Can they do that? That doesn’t even make sense!"
"Well, in corporate America it does! God bless it! Fuck, anyway. To make a long a long story short, in the end we settled out of court. My lawyer convinced me it was best. I received fifteen thousand dollars, and all charges were dropped."
"That’s it? From a quarter million dollars, you got only fifteen thousand?"
"Well, yeah. But it wasn’t that bad. It was enough to pay off any college loans I had left and, with the rest, along with some part-time work money, I was able to travel across Europe. Get into this little life raft of mine. In fact, when you look at it, it helped me get here to Prague!"
"But why didn’t you just start trading on the market again. You know, with the money the brokerage gave you in the end? You said you had started with only two thousand dollars the first time and, in less than a year, it had turned into two hundred and fifty grand! You could’ve easily done it again, couldn’t you?"
"Yes, of course. But the real question is..." I leaned forward and gazed into those soul-searching eyes, "Did I want to? I know what you’re thinking. So much money. And so easily acquired. Why not just do it again? I’d be a millionaire in just a couple of years. But no. No. I didn’t want to. I don’t want to."
"I don’t understand. Why not? So many people work their entire lives, work long, hard hours. And for what? Nothing but a mere pittance. Struggling from day to day in the hopes that they’ll, one day, hit it big. And here you are, Paul. You had the key. You still do! But you’ve turned your back to it. Why? I can’t understand."
"Many people can’t. Look, I never earned that money. Well, actually, technically I did. But I didn’t sweat for it. I just sat in front of a computer and clicked on a mouse a few times. It was nothing. In fact, it became a game. How many zeroes could I add onto that figure in front of me on the screen? How big could my bank account actually get?"
"And there’s something wrong with that?"
"Something seemed wrong – but only after the whole ordeal had run its course. Only when I had once again turned into a financially destitute college grad. When I was making that money though, I was on top of the world. Ha! You know? I used to walk around campus with five hundred dollars in my pocket at all times. How many college students do that? No, I’ll tell you what college students do. They go out with friends, laugh the night away, and walk back home with a freshman girl and without a care in the world. That’s what’s life. Not what I had. Spending hours in front of a computer doing research and, when I did venture out, always thinking that I was better than everyone around me because I had a few more banknotes in my pocket. I wasn’t better. I was pathetic. A creature who lived just to make money."
"But, Paul, we all do that in the end."
"In the END. Exactly. You see, I was fortunate. Fortunate in losing my fortune. I didn’t have to wait until the end to realize how empty that kind of pursuit is. It dawned on me before I ever even entered the job market! Money be damned, I want life! This is life! Traveling the world. Exploring what there is. Meeting new people and experiencing this little green and blue planet of ours. Not sitting in some office, hoping to get a pay-raise in a few years time. Hoping to be able to buy a new car."
Silence from Everyman.
"A new car... You know what I had thought when I first started investing? I’d save up enough money to buy a car. But that money came so quickly. In just a couple of months. So I decided I’d just keep investing until I had enough to buy my dream car – a nice cherry red 67’ Mustang. And, wouldn’t you know it, I reached that goal a few months later. This is too easy, I thought. Who needs an old Mustang? I’ll just make enough to afford a new, fully equipped Ferrari. Hell, I couldn’t even drive a manual back then! But did it really matter? Thank God I lost that money. Thank God. If not, I’d still be in Philadelphia, hunched over a flickering screen, saying to myself, ‘I’ll just make enough to buy a tiny tropical island, and then I’ll stop.’ But I know even that wouldn’t make me stop. Only a heart-attack, or a bullet to the head, would."
"And so, this is what you’ve chosen? This is ridiculous. Traveling to strange countries and teaching English? You save no money and have nothing to your name."
"On the contrary. I’m wealthier now than I could have ever imagined back during my investment days. The American Dream, strike it big and live in a mansion, isn’t a dream, it’s a nightmare. One that you never wake up from. And, what’s even more frightening, one that you don’t want to wake up from – unless it’s too late."
And there was nothing more to say. I had sparred with Everyman and held my ground. At least I thought I had. I could never be sure. He just chortled maniacally in my face and receded into the shadows from which he had come.

Then I saw Eva again. She had been sitting there, listening and observing the entire time. Her beauty thrust me back into reality and made me realize why I had started this conversation in the first place. But she just sat there, silently, in disbelief.
"What? What is it, Eva? Did you understand what I just told you? Why I don’t want to make the money again?"
"Yes, Paul. But is... well, is..."
"What?" I paused. "You don’t believe me, do you? That I made all that money."
"Well, is difficult story believe. And you don’t want money now? Why? Is very difficult."
"I told you why I don’t... But, I know," I sighed. "Believe me though, it’s true. Every word of it. And I can make it all, an entire fortune, again if I wanted to." I had moved away from my earlier introspection and back into my present priority, Eros. Impress her. That’s what I needed to do. Awe and impress.
But clearly she wasn’t impressed. "Paul, is great story. But sounds very... strange... to me. I don’t know what to say."
"But it’s true! True I tell you! You do believe me, don’t you?"
"Yes." She hesitated a bit, "Yes of course. But excuse me now. I must go for one minute."
Eva got up to say goodbye to some of her friends that were leaving. She hugged the girls goodbye, kissing them once on each cheek, and kissed the boys lightly on the lips, one by one.
I didn’t feel like staying much longer either. The evening’s alcohol had filtered through my system completely by then and I could feel that I was definitely drunk. I got up, put on my jackets, and walked over to Eva.
"So, Eva. Have a Happy Birthday and thank you for a good evening."
"Paul, you are leaving?" she seemed a bit disappointed. Her beautiful face, as always, captivated me and made me rethink my departure.
But I was too drunk and too tired. I wanted to go home, even if it was without Eva. "Yeah, sorry. I’m really tired." But then, I thought, why not give it one more shot. Beer logic. "Eva, can you walk me outside one second?"
"Why, Paul? Are you fine?"
"Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just... I just want to tell you something."
"Well," she was a bit skeptical, "But okay. Let’s go."
I waved goodbye to everyone and let out a communal "Dobrou noc!" as Eva accompanied me.
We stepped outside and stood there in the cold. Face to face. So close it seemed.
"So Paul, what is wrong? I can help you?"
"Well, Eva," I gently grabbed her arms and pulled her a bit closer. "Yes, you can help me. I forgot to give you one birthday present. Every time I look at you. I can’t help myself. I just have to, I want to..." and I leaned in to kiss her.
Eva pushed me away immediately. "Paul! I told you before! I cannot! I have boyfriend!"
"OK, okay. I’m sorry. So goodnight then..." Whatthefuck. "Can I at least get a kiss goodnight?"
"Yes, of course. I like you. You are nice person. But not on your lips. Only cheek."
"What the fuck, Eva?!" I burst out. I don’t know where it came from. But there was no stopping it now that it was loose, "You kiss everyone on the fucking lips when you say goodbye! What the fuck do you think I’m gonna try and do? Stick my tongue in there when you’re not looking? Jesus Christ! I don’t need this fucking aggravation. Good night! And keep your kiss on the cheek for some other sorry bastard!" I stormed off into the night, leaving Eva behind me and not turning once to see how she had reacted. I knew I had been harsh, but I was fed up. I had had enough.
I walked to the night tram, waited for about fifteen minutes, and then took it to where I needed to transfer onto a forty-minute night bus ride to the Dum. Once I got onto the bus and had sufficiently calmed down, I started to regret how I had reacted to Eva’s refusal to kiss me. I was in the wrong. I knew it despite my drunken state or, perhaps, because of it – so I took out my cell phone and sent her a text-message apology.