Corsican Rock II - Breeding dangerous pets part two - Building my own past time
Uncle Leon introducing me to QSI Int'nal School in Sarajevo.
Told me: make yourself quite a bit scared, not too much.
Be yourself, the new Zulfikar Ahmetovic we've been building up for you, kid.
Last survivor of an extinguished bosniak family, only relative this dusky American uncle of mine, no genealogy required.
Me: a loner.
Let all of them - schoolmates, teachers - guess what I am.
Mixed blood.
True.
Bosniak.
Just by nationality, basic necessity.
Dark skin.
A black soldier’s unofficial sprout.
Totally false, big set up.
Gypsy.
True just inside myself. Never let THEM guess the truth about who Zulfikar Ahmetovic in reality is.
Me a loner.
Uncle Leon ordered me to.
Best marks.
Best athlete in single sports.
Unneeded by teams - feature them all American (basketball, baseball).
No soccer - can’t stand it at all - except when Ibrahimovic plays.
Be partial to Bosnia. Always.
Never question the Nation’s Founder’s biography.
Be a good student, best grades.
Be a lonely gifted disciplined dark skinned mixed bag Bosnian student.
Make it to America.
Time rolls when getting old, sooo slow when you’re young.
Best student ever.
Time out: uncle Leon picking me up, his dented Audi.
Driving me out of town. Slow careful driver especially if some car or motorcycle seemed to tail us.
Then fast down some dirt road - never the same. Then turnarounds then some paved road then other dirty roads.
Then the US base.
Training. Fitness. Shooting with different weapons.
Most of them rifles.
He rejoiced my sharpshooter skills always developing.
Back to school then.
One day I countered my orders.
Had a once in a while girlfriend.
Fair haired blue eyed.
It was she who picked my cherry, not me her own.
She turned out to be the daughter of a German officer.
My first time ever.
It was late May.
Her name Hannelore.
I passed the exams.
Uncle Leon my non Jewish dark skinned uncle picked me up once again, he urged me to get my stuff packed and leave.
“Congrats, kid. Time to leave forever, now.”
Guess some heat around me.
“Your grandpa’s remains have been discovered by Bosnian police. You need not to be questioned at all. Sorry for old Zulfikar, may he rest in peace. Sorry for you, kid. You’re almost alone on your path in this life.”
I felt stoned.
“Almost?” I dared to ask.
Then I thought of the lanky old man in the shadows, the one with a roaring laugh.
“Almost” he confirmed.
“My other granddad is a big shot I guess.”
He kept driving for a while.
“Forget about him” he said twenty minutes later.
“Snake of the snakes he is. Think he’s immortal. Never mention him anymore until you’ll kick off this transient existence.”
