Page 93 - To Family with Love

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Life went back to normal. I stopped being a hero after a while, and Pythagoras started throwing math problems my way again, and even that stupid history teacher of ours dared give me an oral exam in front of the whole class – even though I was the one who helped create history. The way this is going, even my physics teacher could decide to give me one, even though he knows all too well that he has nothing to ask me. These teachers really have a narrow-minded job. In fact, everyone has already forgotten about my successes, and I’m so glad that they are so oblivious because I’m not as ashamed of any of my failures as I am of this greatest success of mine, and I’m the only one who can’t seem to forget it and stop thinking about it. And this damn watch; I told everyone I found it, so no one knows who I got it from, and it drives me up the wall and keeps me up at night. It shows me enemy time, it is wickedly accurate, and it makes me wonder: can a hero wear an enemy watch, even if it is a gift from a friend?
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At home, my folks forgave each other everything, both the infidelity my old man had heard about back in Dubrovnik, and my dad’s defection from the family to the war, but real warmth is still returning to our family rather slowly, all because of that damn iceberg and its chemical composition and state of matter, and a bit also because of the airing out of the apartment, since everything now is as it once used to be, and my ma airs out even more than before, as if our happiness depended on that, and as if we all had to study, and not just me.
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