STORIES

Aleksandar Novaković

CELTIC TALE

SYNOPSIS FOR „CELTIC TALE“

(Sub) genre mixture:
Urban novel
On the road novel
Mythological novel
Picaro novel
Satyrical novel

Time and place:
Scotland and Serbia, 2007

Movie-alike:
„Dogma“ by Kevin Smith

Structure:
Short, movie-alike chapters, 42 of them

Pages:
118 (in Serbian)

All rights reserved by:
Aleksandar Novaković

First published in Serbia, winning „Mali Nemo Award“ by publishing house „Mali Nemo“, Pančevo, Serbia, 2008

            Velizar (30) Serbian journalist, Celtic-loving intelectual, arrives on international summit of journalists in Edinburgh. Velizar tries to, haunted by flashbacks of his „previous life“ in Serbia (unhuman conditions of living, ghosts of civil wars, lack of love, street violence)  disappointed in life and love, challenge ancient gods by attacking Aongas Og, Celtic god love. He continues his despearate search even though there are metaphorical signs not to continue  and even though Slavic gods tell him not to do so. At first he steps back, taking advantage of being in such a splendid city on someone elses expence but his obsession becomes too strong. Finally, Velizar finds Aongas, who is drug addict and street singer. Aongas shows his uneasy yet cheerful personality, introducing Velizar to pagan deities and thier unusual lives but also to Tessa, attractive London girl. The additional problem is that their strange friendship is endangered by Lokki, Scandinavian god of darkness who controls Aongas being his drug dealer. Lokki threatens Velizar. At first, Velizar is petrified and cannot help Aongas but, faced with terror of Lokki and his mad plans he joins his forces with Aongas. Lokki is running the bar in the centre of Edinburgh, where, due to Aongas’s powers, people make love to complete strangers, observed by Lokki. Tessa is one of Lokkis victims. So, Aongas and Velizar fight against Lokki and win but Aongas dies and his soul incarnates in big oak  in Royal Botanic Garden, Edinburgh.

Notice: in this short chapter Velizar is desepratelly searching for Aongas Og, looking for hidden signs.Nightclubbing in Edinburgh is one of  „good“ approaches. Translated by Aleksandar Novakovic

Ceoil na choille [1]

Velizar had realised how big fool he was while walking slowly, one foot in front of the other, down Nicolson Street. No Aongas here. If he had visited www.wikipedia.com he could have realised the harsh truth: Aongas's adress is Newgrange, river Boyne, Eire. He missed the whole country, for starters. What is Aongas doing in Scotland, anyway? Who and what is he, honestly? Just a silly thought mistaken for a physical sensation - pain in his stomach. Velizar is certain that it is not the pain that is haunting him so long but excitement, fear that airplane with 134 souls, will fall down in the middle of Northern Sea. Strange thoughts can pop up every now and then. It's not a good idea - he will only make fool of himself.

Maybe Scots will extradict him to Serbia, guilty as charge for being obsessed with name of Aongas? What to hell?! He never knew anyone with that name. Maybe the best idea is to go to some quiet, hidden place and drink liquid antidepressive. And so, after few interceptions of passers-by of which half of them were foreign (every citizen of Edinburgh has his own tourist) he found a place overcrowded with „indie music“ fans, adornated with holly druidic title pulsing in green neon lights - „The Forest“, not far from George Square. Velizar looked at the neon sign and it had whistled like Jedi sword and started sending sparkles around in David Lynchish manner. Green light went down. Riksha-bike cut Velizar's path, driven by guy wearing „dreadlocks“. On the backseat, standing tall and straight, stood the girl with small square shield which was adornated with strange, crooked lines in one and long javeline in another hand. She wore tight blue and white tricot and it seemed, at first glance at least,  that she was naked and that her whole body, as all of her face, was covered with paint only. She was waving with her javeline and shouting in Pictish: 

„Ettocahets! Iratodaerus! Bes meg qnanam! Canutu-lachama!“

Strange vehicle had turned to Crichton Street and continued straight forward, to history. Maybe she wanted to help British tribe of Iceni and their queen Boudica struggling with Roman Empire?

He is going to come in, in spite of all. He bumps into two smiling girls on the entrance to this ex-church/cathedral. Good sign for a change. And then - vast smoky space, big leather sofas, bizare objects hanging from  walls, little tables with green lamps in corners, pictures drawn by a four year old, strange creatures armed with axes and scary faces are dancing on big cinema screen. He breathes in curry, bear and sweat and many teenagers are mingling around, looking like those from Belgrade „indie“ clubs  in season 1995/1996. One more illusion - all kids look alike, with their confused hormons and day in day out depressions.  And so it is-when you turn 21 you wonder how you survived. Many kids from his ex country did not manage to do so. Milosevic and his fellow dictators Tudjman and Izetbegovic never gave them a chance.

Velizar waves to guy with green-red hair, thin lad  covered with pearcings all over his face and points on a half of pint bottle of beer -  „Burning car“. Such a promising title. He takes a sip and then falls on black sofa, cut in a middle, with yellowish spungie intestines coming out. Beer label is very interesting - underground comics showing crash of two cars with passengers jumping out while merry flames are dancing on their back. Heads of drivers are laid over driving wheels and he presumes that they are dead. He has to buy another bottle - to find out what's in next episode. Tenth episode equals Fair the well my brain!

- Have you seen Aongas-asks young, slim and tall Jamaican girl, dressed in something that looks like a big grocery bag.

- No. Do you know where he is? - asks Velizarboth with anticipation and trepidation.

Suddenly, tall read headed guy, Korean with spectacles drawn on his face and Indian, both wearing the same paper bags, are running in.

- Have you seen the Aongas, have you seen the Aongas?! - they shout simultaneously.

- He has seen him! - shouts Jamaican girl and points on Velizar. Title: „Have you seen Angus?“ Interactive Theatre Squarepants, Peebles appears on movie screen.

Histrionic gang runs to Velizar, poking, touching, inquiring.

- I am Aongas! - shouts someone at the end of room.

- Really?

- Nah, I am Liam and I am just pulling your leg!

Velizar is getting up, gently pushing the read headed guy.

- Stay a bit more, honey. We shall find him - whispers girl on his ear.

- No, thank you, I am not interested - replies Velizar and runs towards exit. On his way out inscription awaits with dart pointed towards the stairs on his l: „One choice“. Is it Gaelic „аen gus“? Aongas? Why not folllow the rules? There is nothing to lose.

He makes his way through the idle crowd on the stairs. Someone is smoking joint. Velizar enters big hall with very few people in it. Some people are leaving the gig of  „Tea and Toast Band“ with long, grim faces. This band is really funny- wearing purple aprons over their, say, normal clothes,  with winter hats on their heads, adornated with yellow ribbons. And there is another title: They did the best they could do written in big, black, greasy letter over their heads. Such a lie! Singer has sad, little  broken down voice fighting crusades against harmony playing two chords tops and girl next to him plays Casio keybords, relict from eighties. Ah, yes, there are also drummer and bass player. Velizar cannot see their faces even though he stretches himself standing on his tiptoes. Maybe they are hiding their faces in shame? There is an empty chair in the corner and bagpipes near it. There is just a piece of paper on which is written: Aongas. All for this...

Frontman stops with music and approaches to the microphone in the middle of the stage. Music stops and he takes rubber frog from his pocket and brings it towards mike. He presses frog,  mildly. Queck, queck! Velizar starts to laugh uncontrolably. Tears are running to his eyes. If it is for „Burning cars“ than it is the best drink in the world! What do they think about him now - girlfriends, sisters, aunts and friends of band? He does not care. He runs out like he is not thirty and this evening, as every evening before it, gives big promisses never to be remembered.

***

Notice: In this chapter Velizar is warned that his search for Aongas Og is watched by his native Slavic gods, and furthermore, the deity of thunder, Perun.

Cnoc [2]

Stranger's „Kaboom!“ turns into real explosion. There is no bar, just wet grass of  Arthur's Seat. His drinking buddy ascends from clouds riding low and silvery glimmers are dancing around his head. Edinburgh underneath them flickers, frightened.  

- Velizar, you big sceptic, you! Can't you see what I had to do because of you!??  Come on, tell me you are kidnapped and fire of St. Elmo is dancing around my head!

Velizar slaps his own face, mildly. Read headed guy points his finger to him and strikes him with thunder. And then Velizar comes back to life. He has died so quickly that death semed to him as absolete thing. It has lasted less than a second and then he realised that he did not see the light at the end of the tunnel,there is nothing at all, and it has quite saddened him.

- Don't worry, it was only simulation of death.

- Who are you?

- I am messenger and my job ends here. Anyway, I am on foreign teritory too long and this place is very dangerous, so...
Glowing of messenger's head had died out and heavy crocodile hide boots had slowly landed in heather.

- I am Perun and our major God, Sviatovid had sent me. Maybe you know my christian modification, St. Iliya?

- You are Slavic god of thunder?! What are you doing here?

- You mean: what am I doing here if you don't believe in me? Let me explain to you: your ancinet Slavic ancestors were pagans and they believed in me and their new found faith, Christianity, did not diminsh us. Anyway, what's that to you? You are an atheist, libertine with no prejudices whatsoever, cynical guy and what can I do with a guy like you. Nothing. I don' t have any real power over you - I can show you couple of simulations, do some tricks with translations like that one in discotheque, drinking without getting hammered up, shouting „Kaboom!“ and live forever.

- Hold on a sec! You have given me all those signs: thunder, heated up mobile, bathroom, neon sign exploding....

Perun's face had slightly blushed. Whether it was to his pale complexion or flattering, Velizar was not sure.

- Neon sign has only burned out. Nothing important. It seems scary to you but, believe me, it's not as much as I could do in good old pagan times. If there were not some remains of that culture among temporary Slavs i don't know whether I would be dead or alive.

Velizar got up hesitating. Perun gave him the glass with dark ale.

- There, now I am paying you my debt.

There was big heat in Velizar like someone had installed an oven in his belly. He drank it all in one sip.

- Sidefects of thunder simulation. It shall pass after the third glass.

- Good method for fire extinguishing.

- The best one. Let me explain to you why are we here. They are least likely to expect us here.

- Who?

- They. Natives. The other interested party. Comprende? This is also the safest place because in these wee wee hours there is no one except loonies running cross the hills, junkies, drunken kids ad few weirdos practicing druidic-alike rituals. Merlin wannabees. Anyhow - you are in a big problem and you have created the whole bunch of incidents from lending here and you are here two days. We do not want to intervene. Us, Slavic gods, are leading isolated lives - Troglav is skiing instructor in Škofja Loka, Slovenia, Veles is demented kettleman in Pirin Macedonia, Vesna runs bordello in Ekaterinburg, Svitaovid works as extrasense in Montenegro and Mokosha is doing weather forecast on TV Poland. I am doing quite well, thank you very much for asking, as minister of energetics in Slovakia and I am not interested in baptised ones but, you have stepped on pagan ground and it is our jurrisdiction. Unfortunatelly, I am here without passport in my hand and some Japanese clients are in my schedule for tomorrow.

- What pasport? Your country is in European Union.

- Not THAT passport. I am talking about passport issued by endangered side, whose name I would not mention at the moment, because it is  geas or geise,make your choice about that one. More preciselly: it is taboo but heregeas or geise also means spell, obligation, pledge, witchcraft. Don’t make fuss and don’t give us a bad name. Forget your idea and have a nice time while being in Scotland. Anbd now I must taree as they say. By the way, if you cannot comprehend some of the things I just said - google it out, will you?

Velizar appears, out of the blue, in „Liquid House“. Two dark ales are in front of him. He takes his wallet but waiter replies on fluent Serbian that everything is OK. Redheaded gent has payed for him. Once again Fire in stomach rises. Ale may put it out but it cannot pacify that pain that still lingers on, two miles above Dun Eadan like invisible sword of Damocles.

 ***

Notice:  in this chapter Velizar is informed by Aongas Og about secerets of gods living in Edinburgh.

Doire [3]

The very next moment, one chapter later, here they are under a century old oak on the other side of the park.

- Come on, talk to me.

- I did not want to kill you. Not really, anyway - replies Velizar.

- And what did you want, to give massage to my achie throat?

- No, you don’t understand. I just wanted someone to give me a sign, any sign at all. Look, when I was leaving Belgrade, to be more occcurate - at the moment I placed myself in the airplane seat I have realised, that I am finally, after a long time, alone with myself. I could think about everything that happened in my life, to make a clean slate. I had to climb few miles above the ground to see where I am, got it?

Sure. I am high every day.

- Yeap but I don’t need a drug to do this.

Aongas was quite displeased with Velizar’s words but Velizar had avoided his burning gaze and looked away.

- I got it straight: whole my life, avoiding of conflicts, responsability, facing this terrible world. People have gone numb, gritty with blood and I don’t trust them at all. I don’t have faith, not this much! I don’t have faith in myself because I know that I am not better than them. I have not found love within me and, hence, I think that there is no life in world. I am good example for that - I am not the best, I am not the worst yet there is no love in me. Not at least. For me - it is where love ends. Who has it if I don’t?

God, what have I been doing all this time? I have never rebeled against people who do not have in them not a spark of empathy, my country was bloodbathing and I have not said or done nothing. I studdied, got myself a job. Demented  society obsesed with purchase power came along and me? I have become both user and used. Where is the man in this whole story? If I ever learned something from my unfortunate existence it is only this: I have seen, being someone who has grown up on Balkans,more clearly and brutally the truth of entire world - we are here to dismantle ourselves and our work is almost done. And so, when airplane started to rotate over Edinburgh I have decided - I must prove myself,  in any way possible, that love still existsts. How to do that? I have read lot of books about mythology of Slavs, Celts, Germanic tribes and so- arrival to Edinburgh gave me the logical solution. If I am, in any way, bump into Aongas Og, Celtic god of love, I will fight him on the spot, attack him.  If I kill him - I don’t care less! That deed would not skip unnoticed and gods will wake up. Let them scorch me, let them testify there is something, something more than soiled day to day life!

Aongas started giggling. Cheerfull geezer and God in the same body.

- Perun was right - you are the one of a kind!

- You spoke to Perun?

- Well, someone had to smuggle him to the world of Celtic gods. I know him long time ago when I was hitchiking in Slovakia and having certain problems.

- With medications, you mean?

- It does not matter now. The thing that matters is this: your attempt of murder would not change a thing. Even though you have tried to kill the whole Consortium no one will ever know.

- Consortium?

- Consortium is assembly of Celtic gods. Most of us live in Highlands,National Park of Trossachs, arshes of Western Ireland and on tops of Welsh mountains so we can hardly gather. Our get together was once upon a time great feast- 365  of us were there but today there are only 21.

- You are mortal?

- I think that something of this had mentioned Perun. Yes, we are immortal and youthfull but, if someone wants to kill us - sky is the limit. Power? We still have it and we can hear if someone is calling us, with his or heart,  soul or voice. If it was for Tuatatis - you would be dead.

- Who saved me? You?

- Nope. Tautatis. He is having therapy for long time - anger management, you have heard of this, no? He is doing quite OK if you forget the fact that Tautatis is god of war and destruction. We just rang Cuchulain to do the business when Tautatis calmed down and said this won’t happen again and that he said it all in blind rage. I know that it all seems topsy-turvy to you but, let me explain it to you this way...

Aongas took Velizar’s hand and placed it on oak.

- Feel something?

- Bark, wet and cold.

- And this is all? People that lived here two milenia ago felt their gods in this bark. These gods WERE this tree and world around them. Picts was their name. And then came along the Celts, Irish invaders in 5th century AD. Most of them were Christians although their national tradition had saved much of paganism, intwined with Christianity. Dail Riada was founded and three centuries later Celtic influence prevailed. But the tree was made of two matters - Christian and pagan, Celtic one. Scots have given their skies, water, air, their everything to new God, one and only. Their new God was mercifull and left us alive with something of our old glory. But, there was no God in 20th century - any God at all! OK, you are atheists now, but you need something to believe in. You could believe in love, love as such! Life? Keeping your word?  But, you don’t believe in anything, (those few Pictish gods are living as bums undereneath North Bridge) and that is why, my friend, you feel nothing but wetness and coolnes of this beautifull, holy tree.....

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Music of forest, Gaelic [1]

The hill, Gaelic [2]

Oak, Gaelic [3]