The short story

THE MOST OVERRATED THING

Hey there, free racoons. I'm glad to meet you, my name is Encho and I live at Sofia Zoo. My home is modest but neat. I have my own personal butlers wearing funny suits that bring me food every day and clean my house. From time to time I can hear the noises of other animals but I've never seen them. The most interesting thing that happens in the day except for the feeding and the sleeping is that all sorts of people and children come and stand in front of my window. I'm not lonely. Actually the lasting things in life are health and mood, at least that's what I think. I'm happy, I don't miss anything – food, a home or peace. And when I feel bored I just come closer to the window of my house and listen to people's conversations. I don't know if I should call them voyeurs or hangers-out but I notice that every day the people are different. It's a little depressing because you can't make an emotional connection. As soon as you start thinking someone looks really nice, they leave and you never see them again. I never missed friendship because I've lived alone ever since I was little, so that was never a thing. You miss something only if you have an idea in your head of what you don't have, right? I said I didn't miss it before because actually I did have a friend at one time. But I'll tell you about it later. First I want to say something about freedom. Actually, I'm locked inside my house. I've tried to go out (unsuccessfully) because out of my window I can see a little road that leads somewhere. Every road should lead somewhere. A road that doesn't connect two places would not be a real road but simply a destination. Maybe that's what the Buddha meant when he said that thing about happiness, haha. So I'm locked up. I suspect the butlers do it, because they can come in and go out. Apparently they have a key, drat them. It's logical.

I'm not claustrophobic or agoraphobic. Freedom is a state of mind, not of the lock or the bars. This cliché has always made me laugh. The truth is, while I have grub and it's clean around me, I don't mind the small living space. I'm not that fastidious about cleanliness, in fact. I also have to note that in my house there are no predators, and that improves the quality of life considerably. I can't imagine what it's like for you, free racoons, that have to toil every day to find food while you are being stalked everywhere by sharp predatory claws and teeth. When you've got a roof over your head and no one hunts you, the world is a much cozier place.

I find kids really interesting. Some of them are open to new things, i.e. me, because they look at me with such wide-open eyes and even ask their parents reasonable questions. But there are also the ones that are only paying attention to their own things - balloons, ice-creams, dolls, and hardly ever notice the world around them, including me. Quite often the kids want something from their parents – to ride some mythical train that I've never seen and don't know what it looks like. But every day I hear them at least a few times: „Mommy, I want to ride on the train! Grandpa, please take me to the train! When are we going to the train?” I wish I could understand what's so exciting about this train.

Except the kids, who are doubtlessly colourful and kick the boredom out of my day, there's another group of people that hang around under my window - the couples. They hold hands, kiss and coo, I've even seen them feeding each other. They don't pay any attention to me either because they're too busy with each other. When such a couple stays longer under my window, I start feeling a strange distant yearning for a mate of my own to cuddle. But this feeling passes quickly and I take up my daily activities again – gnawing branches, eating and sleeping. Sleeping takes up most of my time, to be honest. But I don't feel guilty at all, because I always do what I feel like doing. When I feel like eating, I eat. When I feel like sleeping, I sleep. This simple happiness fills my days with contentment.

Now I'll tell you what happened a few months ago – it was one hell of a party and I was the star. Suddenly, quite unexpectedly to me, a large crowd gathered in front of my house (my butlers were there, too). A man in a suit came forward. It turned out he was the zoo director. He was talking about how positive it was to adopt animals. Then it dawned on me that I was actually being adopted. On that day I got my name – Encho. Nice, isn't it? You, the wild ones, do you have names? True, Encho sounds like racoon, but that's where its charm lies, right? Encho the racoon. And the camera flashes when they announced it! It all made me feel like I was a Very Rare Species.

Adoption is a noble thing. The director explained that the adopters' generosity will include pecuniary donations for food. I didn't understand what pecuniary donations were but if they will get me food I approve wholeheartedly.

When you domesticate something, you become responsible for it – I heard that a man named Exupéry said that. I like that. I don't feel domesticated because the woods and bushes are in my heart, although I've never seen them. But I know that I'm dependent on my butlers for my meals. They are responsible for me in that sense. If they stop giving me my daily portions, I'll be doomed to painful starvation. Then my cozy home will turn into a concrete catacomb where I'll spend the remaining days in agony. Brrr...I don't even want to think about it! I hope my butlers will keep being as responsible as before.

After the adoption a sign appeared on my window that had my name on it. It said that I had been adopted by the company „ENIKOM-M”. I can't read but I know it because the people that stop in front of my window often read it aloud.

The other remarkable event in my predictably boring life took place on a lovely morning. I realised that something was wrong when I didn't get my usual breakfast. My guts were rumbling and I felt almost scandalised when a butler wearing gloves came in. He snatched me and while I was still confused I was put in a small cage and taken into an unknown direction.

I felt a mixture of fear and curiosity. The journey was short. When they opened the cage I found myself in a room that was mostly white. A moustached man, again wearing gloves, started shamelessly groping me. They took blood from me after a painful prick that made me squeal in insult. After a few lengthy hours the moustached man came in and said, „This raccoon is fit for breeding! You can take him back to his cage.” This didn't evoke any emotions because at that time the word breeding meant as much to me as the word socket, i.e. nothing. I had no idea that the words the man spoke would unleash an avalanche of events that would sweep away my peace of mind, and quite soon, too.

Firstly I noticed that the butlers were doing even better than usual. The food was more varied and abundant. And then came a day when the door of my house opened and in rushed a person that I could not describe even in a thousand words.

My first impression was that she was smaller than me and I noticed right away that she was different. She was a girl. When you think that she was the first female and the first living creature other than a human that I had ever seen, my confusion was understandable. It became clear instantly that she was rather talkative.

“It's scandalous! I'm absolutely disgusted! Idiots!” – these were her first words. I was speechless. “Now, I sit comfortably at home, minding my own business, and then suddenly some creep comes in, grabs me quite disrespectfully, puts me into a (she emphasised the word strongly) tiny cage and carries me away into the night! Then I get dangled around for two days and never even see the scenery and in the end they dump me into an even smaller house, and that's already taken!” I was still motionless, completely taken aback. “It's unheard of! So insulting!”, she concluded gloomily and went into the opposite corner. She struck the 'sick pigeon' pose and went on muttering under her breath. After about an hour she apparently got bored and came up to me. She sniffed me.

“What are you staring at, big boy?” she almost scolded me.

This creature was really getting on my nerves.

“Mhmmm,” I rumbled.

“You're rather fat, aren't you?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Hey, raccoon, can't you even talk?”

After this nasty hint I could no longer keep silent.

“Yes, I can!” I snapped.

“Then why are you snorting like some old ghoul?“

I could have answered with a couple of witty and caustic remarks, but unfortunately these came to my mind much later. At that particular moment I could only mutter: “I dunno”.

“You don't seem to be very sociable, do you?” said the intruder, vexed.

I wish I had said “And you don't seem to be very polite, do you?” but annoyingly enough I couldn't say a word. Now I know that's a special quality of female raccoons, rendering you speechless at the most inopportune moment.

“Why did they take me to this half-idiot, darn it?” she said, but I don't know if she was talking to herself or intending to insult me.

“Um...what's your name?” I heard myself ask. My voice, I'm ashamed to admit it, was trembling.

“Roberta”.

“I'm Encho, nice to meet you”.

“Ahahahaaa, what a funny name!” Her reaction pierced my heart.

“And yours is quite serious,” I said, trying to remain calm.

“Well of course it is!” she said after she'd stopped laughing. “I'm a serious raccoon, not some beaver!”

I was soon to find out that Roberta bore beavers a deep-seated and inexplicable grudge. I'd never even heard of beavers.

“What's a beaver?” I said, attempting to strike up a casual conversation.

“Have you been on Mars or something?” she exclaimed impatiently.

“I've only ever lived here, I don't know the world very well.”

“Very well? You don't know it at all,” she said bitingly.

I didn't mean to be rude but the words slipped out of my mouth: “Look, I may not know it, but lots of people come to see me and besides, I'm adopted!”

“Big deal! Who isn't nowadays?”

I had no smart answer to that so I kept an embarrassed silence. I thought “Goose!“ and smiled involuntarily.

“What's so funny?” she sniffed suspiciously. I didn't tell her the reason, I only said: “Nothing”.

On the next day, while I was still drowsy, I wondered if the insolent visitor had been just a dream but when I opened my eyes and saw her munching nuts I quickly realised she was absolutely real.

“Hey kiddo, you're quite a sleepyhead!“ I forgave her the teasing because she said it in a friendly voice.

“I was always like that,” I said, trying to justify myself.

„I already gobbled up heaps of nuts here...”

“Yeah, I noticed yesterday that you're a bit voracious.”

She was immediately insulted.

“As you can see, it doesn't make me fat,“ she almost hissed.

“Alright, I'm sorry.”

“You're the one who should be minding your figure, just look at that enormous belly,” she hit back.

“Ha-ha-ha!”

“I didn't say anything funny!”

“I don't care about my figure, I am well-built.”

“Large bones, huh?”

“Precisely.”

“All fat raccoons say they have big bones, you know.”

“Well it's true.”

“Aha, well, call me again when you drop dead from diabetes and a heart attack and high cholesterol.”

“I'll worry about it when I get old!”, I exclaimed cheerfully and continued: “Hey, Roberta, where do you come from?”

“From the Prague Zoo.”

“Never heard of it.”

“I'd be surprised if you had,” she smiled.

“It's just some zoo, they're all the same!”

“No, they aren't! In some zoos there are nasty beavers, in others there are none, as far as I know!”

“What is it that you've got against beavers?” I asked with earnest curiosity.

“Every raccoon must hate something, there must be some sort of counterbalance, an opposition to love. Hate and love are two sides of the same coin,” she kept on philosophising, “otherwise love will take over everything and life will be like a dragonfly orgy.”

I didn't get anything she said, so I changed the subject.

“These people that stop to look at us, do you mind them?”

“These flies that fly around, do you mind them?” she retorted.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well I don't. They've stopped troubling me long ago. People are annoying and stupid like parasites. They're always looking on, recording stuff with their phones and cameras and then they look at the pictures and videos to see what it 's been like. Because while they're living it they are too busy taking pictures and don't notice what's really happening to them.

“You are very experienced,” I said with candid envy.

„You can learn a lot about people if you keep your eyes open. They think they're watching us, but actually I'm watching them, and very carefully too!”

“It's a good thing to be observant...” I said approvingly.

“Yeah, you bet it is...And it's useful! When I think how many times it has saved my life...”

It dawned on me suddenly why she was so wise.

“Have you... have you been outside?”

„I was born outside, kiddo!” She gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Please tell me about it! What is it like?” I asked hopefully.

“Telling one who's been born in a cage what it's like in the open is like telling a blind person that the sky is blue – he might know what it is in theory but you can never be sure he'll understand you.

“Well, try me!” I insisted.

“Outside is ... heaven and hell at the same time, variety and sameness, all and nothing, potential for all you want and yet not more than your own abilities allow you.”

“Aha,” I said without understanding.

“There's one thing I've got to tell you about life outside though. It's tough.”

Life outside is tough.

Next morning I woke up expectantly. I was surprised at myself but I couldn't wait to chat with Roberta. She had got up before me and was chewing on a branch.

“Morning!” I nodded.

“Yeah, mornin',” she answered with her mouth full. Then she spat out a few pieces of bark and said cheerfully: “One needs to take care of their teeth, right?” Then she went on playfully: “Wanna do some chasing?” This surprised me. I wasn't much into aerobic exercise and muttered reluctantly:

“Yes, if you want to, but just a little.”

She started running around the house faster and faster, I went after her clumsily but in a few minutes I was out of breath and had to stop.

She came closer and said in a significant manner:

“It seems you haven't heard about the chicken's dilemma...”

“No?”

“Maybe I'm running too fast...?” she said and smiled mysteriously.

I thought about it but I didn't understand her and decided to keep silent. I'd already come across as a dumb guy a few times and I felt uncomfortable. Suddenly I thought that I didn't want to look dumb in Roberta's eyes. I had a tight feeling in my throat.

“I'm sorry. I am not...you know... particularly fit,” I explained myself.

“It's alright. We could play branch if there were other raccoons here.”

“How do you play branch?”

“Everyone stands in a circle, you throw the branch and you have to kiss the person that the bottle points to.”

“Kiss?”

“Oh, stop acting like a saint!” She was annoyed.

“But...”

Before I'd come up with something to say, she moved close to me and I felt her hot breath on my face.

“Eni...” She was poking her ear suggestively. “You've never kissed anyone, have you?”

I hadn't. Darn it, I didn't want to admit it.

She came even closer.

„Wanna try?” she whispered.

I did. I couldn't think of anything else. She snuggled against me and touched me with her lips. They were soft as an avocado, fleshy and warm. The moment of timelessness in which we stood there touching was either very short or very long, I don't know. She turned her back on me. I was surprisingly good at this because I intuitively knew what to do. Something was telling me. It was magical. Suddenly the world stop turning and stars exploded inside me. I only know I didn't want this mythically unreal moment to end. But sadly it only went on for a second or maybe two, and then suddenly Roberta turned into a different person. She jumped away from me at light speed. She became irritable and cross and there was no talking to her. This change pulled me from the clouds down onto the ground faster than a stick knocking down rotten apples from a tree.

I felt betrayed.

The next day relations were still icy. I was confused and sad. I was just thinking that I'd come up with the smartest speech to win her back when the door opened. A butler wearing gloves, who was otherwise quite nice, pitilessly snatched Roberta and threw her into a cage. It all happened very fast. A few seconds later I was alone again.

All alone.

There was a lump in my throat.

In the evening I didn't pay attention to the food because I was too sad and didn't feel like eating. A few days passed and I couldn't think of anything but her. Her last words to me were: “May nothing ever get you out of balance.” Oh, her words, her fur, her eyes, her lips. Her lips...

A butler came in. I looked at him hopefully but the hope vanished when I saw that he wasn't accompanied by my sweetheart but by another butler carrying an empty cage.

“Encho hasn't eaten again. Put him in.”

I didn't care where they were taking me. I would only care if they were taking me to her, but alas, they weren't. I found myself in the white room again. The moustached man started touching and prodding me. I was looking at him listlessly, I didn't feel like living any longer.

He turned to the butlers: “This raccoon is suffering from love sickness. He'll be fine.”

I didn't know what love sickness was and I wasn't happy about the statement that I was going to be fine. The only way to regain my balance was to see her. But it was not to be.

After a week or two – I don't know how long, as I had lost track of time because of my lost will to live – the door opened. At the other side there was a weird, slightly shabby person who looked scared.

“Hhhhelp!” she sobbed.

I looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and surprise.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Nedka,” she almost whispered.

After some conversations that were difficult for both of us, I found out that she was born in a zoo, but the one in Plovdiv, she was smaller than me and was afraid of two things – her shadow and her personal butler.

In my mind, though I didn't want to, I started comparing her to the wild and untameable Roberta. The wise and experienced Roberta. The beautiful and soft Roberta. My Roberta.

I had to check these dangerous thoughts, so decided to give the newcomer a philosophical test.

“What's freedom to you?” I asked point-blank.

She looked at me as if I was going to cut off her tail and said clearly: “Freedom does not exist. It is an illusory idea that was created so that the raccoons in the zoos are unhappy, so that they have what to think about, what to yearn for, what to complain about and what to dream of. In reality there is no freedom. The so-called free raccoons, the wild ones, are not free because they are dependent on their food, their enemies, water, and other raccoons. There's no freedom in this world. Everything is connected. Even in space there's no freedom because you can't go there without a space suit.” Here I got completely lost. “Freedom is the most overrated thing,” she finished passionately.

Rather surprised by her unexpected answer, I asked her: “Don't you want to be free from your endless fears?”

“No. Fear is a friend. It protects you, it makes you be reasonable and cautious. It is the voice of Racood in your head.”

“Racood?” I repeated. I didn't understand.

“Haven't you heard of the Creator of all Raccoons, the source of our civilisation, truth and reality?”

“Huh, how do you know so much?”

“Errrr...I know it from my mother,” she muttered in an embarrassed way.

“Well, tell me about this Racood then. In which zoo does he live?”

“In Gerald Durrell's, on Jersey island – it's the promised land.”

“Now you're getting unintelligible again,” I said, annoyed. “I never heard of Gerald Durrell but judging by his name, he must be a human.”

“That's right. He's the Saviour. He saves wild animals and breeds them in his zoo. Then he takes them back to nature. And he also teaches people not to kill animals and not to destroy nature.“

“That's noble.”

“And he also scribbles in these weird notebooks that people read and they laugh a lot at his scribblings.”

“Really? I've always thought that if you can make somebody laugh, you can change the world.”

“Yes, Gerald Durrell did change the world. He made it a better place.”

After a few days of philosophical conversations about Racood and the world, and to be honest, after some kisses, tumbling around and star explosions, Nedka was also separated from me. Forever.

I was left alone again.

But at least I understood what freedom is.

Freedom is having someone to love.

Impressum

Texte: Mila Strashimirova
Bildmaterialien: Mila Strashimirova
Cover: Mila Strashimiova
Lektorat: Minka Paraskevova
Übersetzung: Rumiana Pankova
Satz: Mila Strashimirova
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 27.02.2020

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Dedicated to Martin Karbowski