They have created a whole field of science out of this question. Your words are sharp: betrayed their knowledge and belief for a piece of the pie . . . An academic, on the contrary, goes on to stretch it out, explaining from the dawn until the sun sets . . . They build layers and layers of paragraphs, touching the sky and the Sun, wordings gathered from dozens of glossaries . . . At the end of the day you lose your consciousness . . . You kneel down and pray to them . . . You plea them and honor them and heil them . . . Not out of respect, but out of tiredness. They've written books upon books about the peace of pie you came to mention – and have proven your point: when there are ninety-nine reasons for betrayal, there is only one for one to be just.
Mati (Jerman's mother brings tea, bread and chilly meat; they place it on the left side of the desk. Jerman takes a step to them, but his mother turns around silently and vamooses the scene.)
Jerman (grabs Kalander's hand, pulling him.) Sit, friend, for us to warm up.
Kalander. (Joins Jerman and sits.) To me it looks as though alienated hands of withdrawal and starch have brought us this meal.
Jerman. (Sluggish and pensive). Many future noshes of ours will be rotten and putrid; many nights to come shall be watchful; many times, walking this route, we will ask the devil to come save us, to end this suffering. (With glad.) We issued ourselves this meal, let us eat it up!
Kalander. (Takes a drink.) I am not afraid sir, and never was. That which I voiced is clear – I do not gather with adulterates by will; I ask god to divert me from such evils. The whole village is drunk. A drunkard has no carry for my mouthings! Preach to a bastard for an hour and longer.
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