Chapter 2: In The Restaurant
Walking on the street, Schneider saw a ruined church, a few more similar cottages and huts, a small bread producing factory and lastly, a cozy restaurant located at the southern end of the town…..“nameless, the restaurant seemed” Schneider thought to himself. He strolled in and found himself in an empty middle-aged tavern. He walked slowly to a dining table and sat there motionlessly with his sniper rifle leaning against the back of his chair.
Arif Schneider was staring at nothing but air……He stared for a couple of seconds only but time seemed to have froze for him……All the memories came back, reminding him a place called Vienna, his home……the film strip in his brain was playing in the speed of lightning. “How did I come to this……?” whispered Schneider to himself in a restless tone. Just then, the owner of the restaurant came to him and says “Would you like to order something, sir?” “Yes….can I have a bowl of hot potato soup?” Schneider replied with little feelings, his eyes were still set on the invisible air while his mind was still in his true home.
Vienna, mother, friends……and that wooden door….Schneider could almost feel the handle with his hands. “Excuse me sir, here is your soup” the owner got Schneider’s attention with an old and father-like voice as the bowl of soup was presented in front of the young soldier. “Thank you very much” Schneider thanked the old man while the “overcrowded pearls” in his eyes fell onto the rough surface of the wooden table. The old restaurant owner was surprised. “Oh my……I can’t believe that you actually thanked me” the old man exclaimed. Schneider gave a blank look at first and sighed later because he knew that no German would show their manners towards other races nowadays.
The restaurant keeper was surprised not only because of Schneider has thanked him but was also because Schneider was the “first crying German” he found for the past five years. “Sir, I am Arendarski…. looks like you are new in town….erm…is there any problem that is bothering you?” the owner of the restaurant asked. “Sit down and talk, mister Arendarski.” Schneider asked politely. So, the restaurant’s owner, Arendarski sat opposite Schneider and they started a conversation.
“You can stop calling me sir, call me Arif instead, mister Arendarski?” Schneider told Arendarski. “Well, you should stop calling me mister, will you?” Arendarski joked. There was a sudden silence between the two friends……Both of them stare at each other for quite a moment.
The two friends talked for the entire day as if they were old friends who have not met each other for a very long time.“ Well, it seems pretty late, huh? ” Arendarski smiled. “Yes…I should go.” Schneider replied slowly while he stood up and picked up his rifle. “Still snowing…” Schneider looked out of the window as he thought to himself. “See you tomorrow!” Schneider left after hesitating at the doorstep to bid Arendarski farewell.
Arif Schneider was staring at nothing but air……He stared for a couple of seconds only but time seemed to have froze for him……All the memories came back, reminding him a place called Vienna, his home……the film strip in his brain was playing in the speed of lightning. “How did I come to this……?” whispered Schneider to himself in a restless tone. Just then, the owner of the restaurant came to him and says “Would you like to order something, sir?” “Yes….can I have a bowl of hot potato soup?” Schneider replied with little feelings, his eyes were still set on the invisible air while his mind was still in his true home.
Vienna, mother, friends……and that wooden door….Schneider could almost feel the handle with his hands. “Excuse me sir, here is your soup” the owner got Schneider’s attention with an old and father-like voice as the bowl of soup was presented in front of the young soldier. “Thank you very much” Schneider thanked the old man while the “overcrowded pearls” in his eyes fell onto the rough surface of the wooden table. The old restaurant owner was surprised. “Oh my……I can’t believe that you actually thanked me” the old man exclaimed. Schneider gave a blank look at first and sighed later because he knew that no German would show their manners towards other races nowadays.
The restaurant keeper was surprised not only because of Schneider has thanked him but was also because Schneider was the “first crying German” he found for the past five years. “Sir, I am Arendarski…. looks like you are new in town….erm…is there any problem that is bothering you?” the owner of the restaurant asked. “Sit down and talk, mister Arendarski.” Schneider asked politely. So, the restaurant’s owner, Arendarski sat opposite Schneider and they started a conversation.
“You can stop calling me sir, call me Arif instead, mister Arendarski?” Schneider told Arendarski. “Well, you should stop calling me mister, will you?” Arendarski joked. There was a sudden silence between the two friends……Both of them stare at each other for quite a moment.
The two friends talked for the entire day as if they were old friends who have not met each other for a very long time.“ Well, it seems pretty late, huh? ” Arendarski smiled. “Yes…I should go.” Schneider replied slowly while he stood up and picked up his rifle. “Still snowing…” Schneider looked out of the window as he thought to himself. “See you tomorrow!” Schneider left after hesitating at the doorstep to bid Arendarski farewell.
posted by Zackwise at 8:25 PM
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