People don’t like freemasons.
Photograph: Photograph © Ray Metzker from the book Light Lines published by Steidl
Freemason by Andrzej Bursa
No one would ever suspect that our quiet, mild-mannered clerk, Stephan, might be a freemason. And yet it turned out to be true. The news brought by one of our colleagues spread through the office like a wildfire and on the second day reached even the director. Director's reaction fell somewhere between 'nah...' and 'hm...' but then after hours he sat alone in his office for a long time drumming fingers on his desk.
On the third day the manager B, a stout and impulsive man, out of the blue turned to Stephan:
'Have you seen my square and compasses? Don't know where I put them...'
Stephan looked confused. For as long as he could remember no one had used a square or a pair of compasses in the office. He stuttered out - 'N-no... ha-haven't seen any...' - and quickly lowered his head over the papers. A triumphant whisper swept through the office. There was no doubt now. That same day Director decided to investigate the matter himself.
Director had been with us only a few months, having been transferred from a recently closed institution where the preferred management tool was the psychological method. It was with this method that he decided to solve the mystery. He summoned Stephan to his office and without any pussyfooting employed the method.
'So how are we today, Stephan?'
Stephan flushed red, started mumbling something, tried to smile. All that did not escape the Director's sharp eye.
'Because you know,' Director pressed on, 'life is terribly boring. Terribly boring. What would you say to a weekend of shooting? I have a lovely lodge...'
Stephan smiled ever so evasively. He began to make suspicious movements with his body and rub his hands. Director knew he had him.
'You will be very comfortable in the lodge, won't you?' he said. 'In the lodge, you know... in the lodge,' he repeated with emphasis.
'But... of course,' mumbled out Stephan and then suddenly Director rose to his feet and stretched out his hand.
'Very well, that's all for now. Please go back to your work.'
Before long Stephan was summoned to Director's office again. This time Director told him that for reasons which are too numerous to list here his services were no longer required.
When the news of the Director's decision got out no one felt sorry for the quiet mild-mannered clerk. People don't like freemasons.
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Born in Kraków, Poland, in 1932, Andrzej Bursa grew up amid war and terror and died aged twenty-five. He first published in 1954, the year following Stalin's death, and in the span of just two years he wrote a diverse body of work - poems, prose, plays, lyrics - remarkable for its precocious maturity.
Freemason is translated by Wiesiek Powaga. A collection of Andrzej Bursa's writing, Killing Auntie, is published by CB editions in October
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Monday, 7 September, 2009
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