CHAPTER 20 - Where's The Birthday Boy?

LUKE, Char and Pavel talked me into having a large birthday party at the beginning of May. I would be turning twenty-three. I was still a young man with nothing but fresh memories in my head and untested ideals in my heart.
I agreed to the party and thought, What better place to hold the festivities than in the Dum? It was large and could accommodate a lot of people and, what’s more, I wouldn’t have to rent out a bar or other space. But, most importantly, I could stumble to my room down the hall with ease after a heavy night of partying. Sure, other people would have to trek halfway across the city in order to get there, but they would understand. It was my birthday.
And so, the day before my Saturday celebration, Pavel drove me to a beverages distributor and I bought a keg of beer. The hotel guard at the Dum was a little hesitant about letting us take it upstairs but, after inviting him for a beer or two the next day, he even agreed to help us carry it up to the eighth floor. We left it on the balcony outside the dining room and bade it farewell for the next twenty-four hours.
I invited a lot of people to that party. All of my students (a dozen agreed to come – including Eva), everyone I knew from various poetry readings and chess night (most notably those two travel-weary and bearded masters, Arthur and Jordan), and everyone that lived on my floor and the seventh.* (* Margaret and her roommate Kate, unfortunately, told me that they couldn’t make it because they were moving into their new apartment that day. And Kyle, well I hadn’t seen him since that night in his room.) After all, I didn’t want any problems with the neighbors. The best way to get rid of an irritated neighbor during a party is to make him or her part of it. Finally, of course, I also invited Luke, Char, and Pavel along with all of his friends that I had bonded with at Horní Planá. In total, I was expecting a whopping forty people to fill the halls outside my door as I went to bed that night.

"Hey Dan, can I come in?" I asked as I knocked on his door.
"Sure." I entered. "What is it?"
"How are you? Well, I need to get some bags of ice for the barrel of beer on the balcony. You know, let it chill. You mind coming down to the supermarket and helping me carry some up?"
"Of course, Paul! Let me just throw some proper trousers and shoes on."
Dan and I bought six large bags of ice, brought them upstairs, and covered the keg with them.
"So, what time are you expecting your guests tonight, Paul?"
"Well, I told everyone that we’d be starting at around nine."
"Sounds good. We should have a great time tonight."
"Yeah. By the way," I patted Dan on the shoulder, "thanks for helping me with the ice."
"Cheers. Don’t mention it."
"And, you know," I added, "I’m sorta glad I’m having a party here in the Dum. We can finally talk over a drink together!"
Dan exposed a somewhat uncomfortable smile, "Well, yes, you know... Paul, sorry about not being the most social of flatmates. It’s just that..."
"Hey man," I cut him off with another firm pat to the shoulder, "You don’t have to justify anything to me. As long as you promise me you’ll have a great time tonight, alright?"
Dan’s smile became more confident. "Of course!"
"Say, you know what time it is?"
"Um, quarter to six."
"Okay, well. Listen. I’m gonna go take a shower now and, what do you say you and me have a drink from the barrel when I’m done?"
"Sure. Actually, that sounds great!"
I pumped the first two beers out of the keg at a quarter past six – more than two hours before the first guests were even expected to arrive. The ice had barely had an effect on the beer yet but the outside temperature, still fairly cold even in early May, had done its job overnight.
"Cheers, Paul! Happy birthday!" Dan said as we lifted our glasses and clinked.
"Thanks." We took a long, refreshing drink.
"Ahh! That’s superb!" Dan wiped his mouth with his hand. "I haven’t had a beer in a while... Oh! Before I forget... I have something for you." He got up, went to his room, and returned to the dining room with a gift. "This is for your birthday."
"Thanks! You shouldn’t have." I unwrapped it and found a fine quality tee-shirt with the word PRAHA professionally stitched on the front. "Wow! This is great. Thanks." Dan really was a nice guy. I good person to live with too. It was just a shame... We had been roommates for six months and had never even had a drink together before.
"So, how old are you now, Paul?"
"Twenty-three."
"That’s all? My God you’re young!"
"Well... Come on. Not that young. Why? How old are you?"
Dan grinned. "An old man. At least compared to you. Thirty-six."
"No way, really?" Incredible! Six months in the same apartment and I didn’t even know his age!
"Absolutely... So, are you the youngest in the family?"
"Yeah. I have an older brother. He lives in Chicago now."
"Separated from your family, are you? Just like me."
"Oh, you have an older brother too?"
"Well yes, I have a brother. Younger actually. But I wasn’t talking about that family. I was talking about my wife."
"What? You’re married?" Incredible!! Six months in the same apartment and I didn’t even know he was married!!
"Well... Yes... And no. She actually passed away about a year ago." Dan tried to change the frown that had formed on his lips into a smile, but it wasn’t working to well.
"Oh, Jesus. Sorry. I had no idea. I mean... Jesus."
"No, no. It’s okay. But I’d rather not speak about it."
"Yeah, yeah. I understand. So..." I tried to change topics, "Tell me about your brother. Is he my age?"
"No, he’s older than you." Dan looked up at me and grinned, "But he seems to enjoy traveling like you! He actually lives in Brazil now."
"Wow, really? That’s interesting. What does he do there?"
"Well, some recruiters from a large software company came to Belgrade a few years ago. He decided to apply and, well, he got the job. So, off Dan went to South America!"
"Dan? What do you mean? You?"
"No, no. Dan. My brother. That’s his name, Dan."
"What are you talking about? YOUR name is Dan?"
"Well, no. It isn’t. My name is Dejan. D-E-J-A-N. He’s Dan. Or Daniel."
"Shit! Really? Well, I mean... Sorry. I’ve been calling you Dan since the day we first met." Incredible!!! Six months in the same apartment and I didn’t even know his name!!!
Dejan and I went through a fair amount of beer, about six large glasses each, before the next person arrived. It was Herman. He walked down the hall at about a quarter past eight, into the dining room, wished me a happy birthday, and placed what seemed to be a bottle of fairly expensive vodka onto the table.
"Hey Paul! I came a bit early, but to je jedno."
"Yeah, yeah, Herman. No problem. Thanks for showing up. Pull up a seat. You want a beer?"
"Is a Czech woman a kurva?" he laughed. "Of course I do!"
I went to the kitchen, got Herman a glass, and went out to the balcony to pour him a drink. When I walked back in, the bottle of vodka was open and three shot glasses of the stuff were waiting on the table. I handed Herman his glass and he handed me and Dejan ours.
"So, Happy Birthday! Hezky Narozeniny!
"Happy Birthday, Paul!" Dejan chimed in.
We downed our vodka and slammed the empty glasses on the table.
"Woo! That’s excellent vodka!" Dejan smacked his lips.
Herman let out one of those forced laughs underneath his moustache that I had become so accustomed to. "Ano, ano. Well, I normally don’t splurge. But this time, I said FUCK IT!" he licked what seemed like a drop or two of vodka off of his bushy upper lip and ran his forearm under his crooked nose in order to make sure it was dry. "So, how old are you Paul?"
"Twenty-three today." I washed down the vodka with some beer. Vodka was always a little too strong for me.
"Twenty-three! Ty vole! That’s how old I was when those FUCKERS in California refused to publish my poetry. That was good shit, I tell you, good shit. But nooo, those FUCKERS wouldn’t hear of it. It was too much for them, that’s what it was. I’ll show them all..." He put the glass of beer to his lips and downed a quarter of it in one go.
"So, you’ve never told me that you write, Herman," Dejan added. I was amazed that they knew each other. Well, I mean, I’m sure they had run into each other before – in the TV room or elsewhere in the Dum – but I always assumed that they had never actually communicated. I always imagined Dejan as being too shy and retreating back into his bedroom and Herman too busy focusing on whatever task was at hand, usually drinking, to ever strike up a conversation.
"Sure I write! Been writing since I was in college. Wrote a book of poetry back then but, like I said, those FUCKERS in California wouldn’t publish it. Fucking kurvas... I tell you Dejan! I’m a great writer! I’ve written so much great stuff. Incredible stuff!"
"Really?" Dejan was genuinely interested. I though Herman was just spinning one of his stories again. "Have you ever had anything published?"
"Sure! I got a novel of mine published."
"Come on Herman," I wasn’t buying this tall tale at all. "What’s it about then?"
"It’s an international love thriller. Takes place all over the world. England, Africa, Italy... even Greece!"
"Come on, you’re full of shit man!"
"FUCK YOU! You don’t believe me? I have some copies in my room. I’ll go get it now!"
"Okay, okay," Dejan interjected with his calm, composed voice. He reached for the bottle of vodka and unscrewed the top. "Calm down, Herman. You don’t have to prove anything. Sit back down and we’ll take another glass."
"Well," Herman grinned," I’m never one to give up some vodka! So I’ll tell you what... Pour the shots and I’ll be right back," and with that he left the room. He came back a minute later, plunked a hardcover book onto the table with his name written in bold red letters, and picked up the glass of vodka, "Nazdraví!"
We all gulped the clear liquid and I, once again, washed it down with some beer. I then picked up Herman’s book from off the table, "Wow, sorry for doubting you Herman. You actually have written and published a book."
"And I’ll tell you what," he let out that laugh of his again. "There ain’t no better way to get girls than by showing them your book. Trust me! I carry a copy with me wherever I go! Ha ha ha!
We all had a good chuckle. Then I turned my attention back to his book and noticed it... The title was written in Czech. I flipped the book around and saw the summary. Czech. I looked inside the book cover and there was a black and white photo of Herman with his hair caught romantically blowing in the wind. The picture must have been at least over a decade old because he didn’t really have any hair now. And, below the photograph, a short biography – also written in Czech.
"Wow! Incredible Herman. I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I mean... Wow! Hey, Dejan, look at this," I handed him Herman’s book. "He’s even been translated into Czech!"
Herman had a glow of pride on his face and it didn’t look set to disappear anytime soon.
Dejan turned the book around in his hands, "That’s great, mate! Fascinating. Translated even into a language like Czech..." Dejan flipped through the pages and handed it back to Herman. "Fascinating... How many languages has it been translated into?"
"What do you mean?" Herman’s brow furled in confusion.
"Well, what I meant to say was that you didn’t actually write it in Czech, did you? You must have written it in English and then it was translated into Czech, wasn’t it?"
"Yeah, of course. Of course I wrote it in English. I can’t write in FUCKING Czech! Ježiš Maria! I can barely read a newspaper in Czech!"
"OK then, well, what I’m asking is: Other than Czech, what other languages has your novel been translated into? Like Spanish or French, for example," Dejan repeated.
"Well, none," Herman was clearly confused. "You know, it was translated into Czech. It was published in Czech."
Dejan and I looked at each other with blank stares. "Wait, wait Herman," I interrupted the awkward silence. "You mean to tell us that your book was actually published in Czech? Not translated into it? I don’t get it. I’m confused."
Herman was growing restless with us. It must have been clear as day to him but we were still in the dark. He sighed, "Listen guys! I wrote the book in English, but published it in Czech. Is that so difficult to understand?"
"Well, yeah, actually it is. How did that happen?"
"Simple! Three years ago, I was teaching English to this guy who worked in a publishing company. I told him I wrote a book and he wanted to see it. So, I showed it to him. He liked it so he had my manuscript translated, published it, and BAMM! – there it went on bookshelves all over Česka Republika! Now you get it?"
"Yes, yes. Of course. It makes sense now."
"But, wait Herman, there’s still one thing I’m not too clear on," I added. "So the book was never actually published in English, right?"
"FUCK NO! You think those FUCKERS back in America would publish me? I’m too good for them. Too creative."
"Uh-huh. So then... Well... How can I put this? Well... You can’t actually read your own book, can you? I mean, your Czech isn’t good enough, is it?"
"No way, Paul! Like I said, I can’t even read a Czech newspaper. But who gives a shit? Why would I want to read my own book? I’m the one who FUCKING wrote it! I know what it’s about!!"
"Aha..." Dejan and I took a long sip of beer and stared at each other once again. "So, he can’t even read his own book..."
"Anyway, so what exactly is it about, Herman?"
Herman shook his head, "No, no, no. I’m not gonna tell you. If you want to find out, you’ll just have to buy the book and read it!"
I was getting irritated, "Herman! How the FUCK am I supposed to buy the book and read it – in Czech – when you, the goddamn author, can’t even read it?!"
Herman grinned as if he knew the meaning of life but was too wise to tell anyone, "Well, there you go then. Learn Czech and you’ll be able to read it!"
"Well, at the very least you’ve been published, right Herman?" Dejan interrupted, as usual, with his calm, soothing manner. "That’s what counts. A difficult stepping stone overcome... Do the Czechs like your book? How have sales been?"
"Ty vole! FUCKING HORRIBLE! This country’s full of FUCKING KURVAS who wouldn’t know literary talent if it bit them in the ass!" He finished off the rest of his beer. "Fuck it... I need some more pivo. Hey Dejan, pour us another round of vodka while I go fill this up."
When Herman came back, we changed the topic of conversation. At first, we talked about nothing in particular but then Herman began to tell us why he was in the Czech Republic. Many years ago, he said he had fallen in love with a woman from Prague and eventually decided to come here and live with her. They even had a child together. A few years on, they split up though and, as it always seemed to happen to Herman, she turned out to be nothing but a FUCKING KURVA. In fact, he claimed, she wouldn’t even let him visit their son. That’s how he ended up in the Dum, without a home or a family. Herman asked Dejan if he had any kids. Dejan said no and quickly changed the topic of discussion. And so we sat there, talking and drinking, until the first guests started arriving from the Dum and beyond. By that time, we had finished the vodka and Dejan and I were already quite drunk.
Most people that came to my party bought either a bottle of wine or liquor. Those that brought the latter always insisted that I do at least one "birthday shot" with them. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle all of it. There would be too much alcohol in my system by night’s end.
At about half past nine, we started running out of glasses for the beer. Fortunately, Alpha had extra bags of plastic cups in his room and went to get them. He also brought up a small stereo and music soon filled the halls of the eighth floor.
When my students arrived, there wasn’t much room left in the dining so they decided to take half of the party into the TV room. Eva was among them. I went and joined them for a while and took a shot, as I had been doing all night, with whoever had brought a bottle. My party hadn’t officially been going for more than an hour and a half when I knew it. My head was spinning and I couldn’t stand on my own two feet. I would either vomit, pass out, or both... and very soon.
The last thing I remembered from that night was seeing Pavel, Tonda, Honza, Robert, and Jarda walk in. They gave me a goldfish in a bag as a present* (* They did this specifically because they knew I was a vegetarian, didn’t have a fish tank, and wouldn’t want to see the animal die in a measly plastic bag. Czechs have a very dark sense of humor.) and had each brought with them their own pint-glass for beer. They were prepared to do some heavy drinking. I welcomed them and walked away...

I put the previous night’s events together, piece by piece, over the next few days. The only thing I actually remembered after welcoming Pavel was waking up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, seeing Pavel and the rest of the Horní Planá bunch sprawled out and soundly asleep on my bedroom floor, and, upon opening Dejan’s and my PRIVATE bathroom, Herman asleep on the toilet bowl with his pants around his ankles. Poor bastard, I thought, he must have passed out during mid-shit. I had no idea, though, why he hadn’t just gone to his private bathroom right down the hall. I woke him up, helped him pull up his pants, and pushed him out of the door in the direction of his own room.
Pavel told me as much as he could remember the next morning over coffee in the Dum. We all had pounding headaches or, as the Czechs called hangovers, monkeys jumping on our backs.
"You are okay, Paul?"
"Ohh man... What a headache though. Jesus, I don’t think I ever got so drunk. Horrible, I can’t even remember what happened at my own party."
"Yes, but super parties! Best than Horní Planá! But you is shit man. Very bad drinkers. You and you friend from here. Serbian man... What is name?"
"Dan... no, no. Wait. I mean Dejan."
"Yes. You two, lives here but eleven of clocks, where is Paul and Dejan? Everybody is looking. Where is? Where is?"
"And where were we?"
"Where were you? Sleeping is where were you! Sleepings like babies! Everyone come to wakes you. I come. Luke come with Char."
"Wait. Luke and Char came? I don’t remember them coming."
"Of course they come! With video too! All party is on video. But they want say hello and you nothing... sleepings! Even Eva come to waking you up. But nothing! Sleepings. From eleven of clocks, sleepings! We party to three or four in morning and let you and Dejan sleepings in bed like babies."
"Fuck, really? Oh well, at least I’m awake now. Dejan must still be out cold. You guys started drinking at ten. That’s nothing. Dejan and I were going since six! Incredible, I got drunk before my own party even started and fell asleep an hour or so into it."
"Yes, is incredible."
"I’ll tell you why though. Herman! He brought this strong ass vodka and we all just sat there and finished the bottle in about an hour. And then, I had to take a shot with every new person that came."
"Yes, yes, Paul. Is stories for you. Stories for... How do you say?"
"Not sure... But I think you’re trying to say ‘excuses.’"
"Yes, yes! Stories for excuse. Drinking with new persons. Drinking with Herman person."
"Fuck off. I don’t need this," I took a long sip of coffee. "Speaking of Herman – Guess where I found him this morning."
"Herman? Who is Herman?"
"Come on, I’m sure you met him last night. He had a moustache, crooked nose, bald head..."
"Ah, yes... And with many hairs on side of head. Einstein!"
"What?"
"We call him Einstein yesterdays. We don’t know names but he looks like drinking Einstein. Big hair on side but bald and moustache... Is like crazy professor. Einstein!"
"Einstein?! Whatever. Anyway, I found ‘Einstein’ sleeping on the toilet seat in my bathroom... with his pants off. He was taking a shit and then fell asleep!! Ha ha ha!"
Pavel stopped laughing just long enough to tell Robert, Tonda, Jarda, and Honza what I had just said. They then joined in as well. Once it died down, Honza started telling a story. Pavel then translated.
It turned out that, at around midnight, the beer finally ran out. Honza, Tonda, and Jarda had been talking about how they were upset because they hadn’t really had that much beer. Pavel and Robert, in the meantime, had left the Dum in search of neighborhood convenient store that was still open at that time of night. And so, while Tonda, Honza, and Jarda were talking about what to do about the alcohol situation, Herman, who had passed out in his seat in the dining room and was sitting next to them, suddenly sprang to life and leaned into to them, whispering in Czech, "You want alcohol? I have alcohol." Then he put his forefinger to his moustache, "If you like whiskey... Shh! Follow me," and he got up and led them to his room. He presented a bottle of half-finished whiskey and they just sat there, on the floor of his bedroom, drinking and talking about how all women, as they said Herman kept putting it, are FUCKING KURVAS. When they left him, at about one in the morning, he was sound asleep on his bedroom floor.
"That’s incredible!" I added. "If he was asleep in his room, then how did he end up a few hours later, taking a shit in my bathroom?!"
"Ha ha ha! Is Einstein! Einstein brain is genius!"
"Yeah, I guess you’re right. Einstein. Ha!" I finished off the last of my coffee. "And you, Pavel? You weren’t with Herman? I mean, Einstein. Where were you?"
It turns out Pavel and Robert had left the party just before the beer had run out. They had brought two bottles of rum with them and were on a mission to find some Coke. Unfortunately, the only store open in the vicinity of the Dum at that time of night was a McDonald’s down the street – and only the drive-thru at that. So Pavel and Robert walked through the drive-thru, banged on the little window, and convinced the only three employees left in the store at that time of night to close half an hour early and let them in. I couldn’t believe it. Pavel and Robert, inside a McDonald’s with three employees drinking Rum & Coke, while a few customers, as they later told me, were waiting at the drive-thru window futilely honking their horns in the hopes of getting some food before the midnight closing hour. Meanwhile, Pavel, Robert, and the three employees just sat there drinking and laughing – eventually turning up the volume of the store-wide stereo system in order to drown out the increasingly annoying car horns. McDonald’s had lived up to its marketing slogan – They were lovin’ it!
"You miss great party, Paul. Great party! And is your party. But you sleepings... crazy man!"
"Jesus. I guess you’re right, Pavel. It sounds like it was a blast."
"Yes, yes. Was very blast... And fish? You like fish present?"
"Like it? You bastards! You know I’m a vegetarian. You know I don’t like killing animals!"
"Ha ha! Yes we know. Is good joke. But..." Pavel looked around the dining room and into the kitchen, "Where is now?"
"Fuck, I don’t know." Pavel, Robert, Honza, Tonda, and Jarda helped me search the entire eighth floor. There was no sign of the fish. A few minutes later, they all gathered their things, wished me a happy birthday once again, thanked me for a wonderful party, and waited for the elevator to arrive and take them to the ground floor where Pavel’s car was waiting in the parking lot. One of the three elevators wasn’t working – Pavel thought he might have broken it the night before, but he couldn’t quite remember the details.* ( *Kyle actually found the fish the next day. He went to the eighth floor kitchen to cook, opened the refrigerator door and – there in the freezer – was a frozen bag of water with a goldfish suspended in the center. It turns out that Reinhard, who had come to the party quite late, also didn’t want to see the poor creature die and, therefore, decided to take it upon himself and stick it in the freezer in order to preserve it until a proper home could be found. “We can just thaw it out and bring it back to life later,” he told me when I asked him why on Earth he would do such a thing. I was too dumbfounded by his logic to even consider getting angry at him.)
Char and Luke invited me over to their place that Sunday so that I could watch the video Luke had taken of my birthday bash.
"Great party, Paul! Had a wonderful time there!" Char started off.
"Yep, it sure was super. Too bad you fell asleep only an hour into it," Luke added.
"Ha ha," I started off sarcastically. "Fuck, I don’t remember much of it. I mean, I don’t know how it happened. How I passed out so early."
"Well, actually, you threw up before you passed out. Luke didn’t film it, but Eva and I were there with you."
"What? Eva saw me throw up? God, I must have seemed like such a pussy."
"Naw, naw. She was so nice. She was real sweet about it. What a nice girl, Paul. I hope you have more luck with her. She was helping you, holding your head, asking you if you wanted any water. Real sweet!"
"Wow, really?"
"Yep," Luke added, "Even after you kept feelin’ her up all night."
"What? Are you serious? Ah, shit. I must have been a complete asshole."
"Aw, come on now, Luke. It wasn’t that bad."
"Did you guys see it? I mean, how was I acting?"
"You were all right," Char assured me. "We got to your place a little bit past ten and there you were, in the TV room with all your students and Pavel and your other Czech friends... And Eva was sittin’ on your lap."
"What? Really? God, I must’ve made an ass of myself!"
"Yeah, but she wasn’t angry or anything. She knew you were drunk. And you weren’t really feelin’ her up and all, like Luke said."
"Come on! Of course he was!"
Char gave him a stern look, "He was just huggin’ her! Hell, fell asleep in that chair there a few times too. But you were harmless, Paul. Trust me. And she knew it too. I’ve seen a lot worse with drunk guys."
"Anyway, I got it all on video if you wanna see, Paul."
"Yeah, of course I do! Put it on." Luke got up and hooked up his camera to the television. "I wasn’t that bad Char, was I? I hope I didn’t embarrass myself that much."
Char showed me a smile of confidence, "Don’t worry, Paul. You were fine."
"Okay, it’s starting..." Luke sat back on the couch next to Char.
The first shot was of the inside of an elevator. As the doors opened, you could hear pounding music and people just standing around or walking by. I noticed Arthur’s long grey beard as he greeted Luke and Char. They asked where I was and he directed them to the TV room. All one could hear was indiscriminate Czech conversations drowned out by Czech rock music. Someone else other than Alpha must have brought another stereo too. And there, in the corner, was I – sitting in a chair with one arm firmly wrapped around Eva’s waist as she sat on my lap and the other clenching a bag with a goldfish inside. I looked like I was half-asleep. Char came over and woke me up a bit, kissed me on the cheek, and wished me a happy birthday. I saw Luke’s hand stretch out as he patted me on the back and wished me the same. Eva then turned around and asked, "You want I get up so you can talk to friends?" It looked like I pulled her even closer before I replied, "No! You stay here!"
"God! Look at me! I’m such a mess!"
"It gets better," Luke answered.
I held up the goldfish to the camera and started going off about how I was a vegetarian and didn’t want to kill it. But I kept shaking the bag and banging it against the camera lens. The poor creature would have been better off dead, especially after what awaited it later on that night in the hands of Reinhard. The camera panned the crowded TV room and captured the image of a dozen or two young adults drinking beer from plastic cups and occasionally downing shots from the countless bottles scattered about. Then the camera focused in on me again, the only one struggling to stay awake and not speaking. Luke added his first commentary of the video, "And that’s Paul. The birthday boy."
The camera then left the room, went down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the densely packed dining room. Bob Marley was coming from the speakers. It panned the room just as it had done in the TV room and revealed yet another dozen or two individuals, all of them older than the ones in the TV room, this time speaking in English but drinking in the same manner. Only Dejan was silent – with his head wrapped in his arms and resting on the table.
"Who’s that, Paul?" Char asked as the camera zoomed in on him.
"That’s my roommate, Dejan. We were drinking since six. Shit! He looks worse than me!"
I recognized most of the people in the video. Alpha was there. Mikko, the Finnish guy from down the hall; Eric, his American roommate; Lea, the middle-aged American woman who lived next to Herman’s room; and a number of others from the seventh and eighth floors of the Dum. I didn’t even remember all those people had come. There were also a few faces I had never seen before. Girlfriends or boyfriends of the other guests probably. Or just friends – I had told my students and the people I knew from chess night and poetry readings that they could bring another person with them if they wanted. "Hello everyone! " came from behind and the camera turned to focus on Reinhard. "So, where’s the beer?" he asked. The camera then turned to the keg of beer, on the balcony and surrounded by Pavel, Honza, Tonda, Jarda, and Robert. They were all taking turns filling their pint-glasses with brew. Then the image faded to black.
"I stopped it for a while," Luke said. "I forgot to buy a new tape that night and only realized when I started filmin’ that I had about fifteen minutes worth left... The next shot is about an hour later."
The first shot after the fade-out was of me lying in my bed. I was completely clothed, except for one bare foot – the other still had even the shoe on. I was lying on my stomach and snoring. The only other people in the room were Char, Eva, and another one of my students, Lenka. They were just staring at me, shaking their heads. Then Luke started his commentary again, "So, Luke disappeared from his party about half an hour ago. We been searching for him everywhere but couldn’t find him. When we tried to open the door to his room, it was locked. Fortunately, we found this security guard in the TV room drinking shots of Slivovice – that’s a kind of Czech moonshine – with some other guys. He had a key and came and opened the door. And this is how we found Paul. Asleep at his own party. At least he’s alright."
The camera then left my bedroom, zoomed into Dejan’s, and showed him in the same condition as I was, except that he still had both shoes on. One of us must have locked the main door accidentally after we had stumbled into our apartment. The next five minutes or so of film was of the dining room, hall, and TV room. Some of the Czechs in the TV room were now even dancing. The image went black again.
"And now, this is just before we left," Luke told me.
"So, I think we’re gonna leave soon," Luke’s camera commentary started. "It’s gettin’ late and we don’t wanna miss the last bus." The filming this time started in the dining room. There were clearly less people in there, but still more than a dozen. The camera zoomed in on bottles of liquor and wine – some empty, some half-empty – on the table. "The beer ran out a while ago so we’ve all been drinkin’ the hard stuff. " The camera then went out of the dining room and through the kitchen. There were a lot more people in the hallway now. Some were waiting for the elevator, others were just talking. Char was talking to Herman and the camera zoomed in on them. "So you know," Herman slurred as he leaned in closer to her, "I’ve actually published a book." He was swaying back and forth, barely able to hold himself up. "It’s back in my room... I can show it to you if you want," he leaned in even closer and grinned. "Gawd No!!" Char yelled out loud and took a step back.
"That guy was such a creep! He kept hittin’ on me all night. And always the same ol’ thing! Tellin’ me about his book and stuff. Eww, what a dirt-bag!"
"Ha ha ha!" I laughed loudly. "That’s Herman for you!"
"So, the film’s about to run out," Luke interrupted. "But this is the best part y’all!"
Soon, cries for help rang out from the section of the hall where the elevators were located. They grew louder and louder as the camera and everyone else ran towards them. The middle elevator door was open only about an inch and, from the bottom half of it right next to the floor, a finger was sticking out. "Pomoc! Help! Pomoc!" Some Czech followed and then some broken English, "Help! Door is no function! Door is no function!"
"Oh my Gawd!" Char cried out from next to the camera, "It’s Pavel!" Everyone went over to the elevator doors and eventually pried them open. Apparently, someone had pressed the Emergency Stop button inside the elevator on its way up and, after it had stopped, those inside were unable to either get it started again or completely open the doors manually from inside. The people that had gathered there in the hall were, fortunately, able to open it from the outside. The elevator lift was stuck a quarter of the way up the eighth floor with only a small crawl space left as an opening. Luckily for those trapped within, it was big enough for people to fit through. Out crawled Pavel, Robert, and two boys and a girl no one had ever seen before – dressed in McDonald’s uniforms.