The Eye Of The Leopard Read Online Free PDF Page A

doing
anything but waiting – with a crushing sense of being someone
who does not exist, not even to the person who takes the Room
Service orders.
    Hans Olofson sees that the waiter has a pair of shoes that are
almost falling apart. One heel is missing, and the sole of the other
is gaping like a fish gill. Unsure how much to tip, he gives far
too much, and the waiter gives him a quizzical look before
vanishing silently from the room.
    After the meal he takes a nap, and when he awakes it is already
evening. He opens the window and looks out into the darkness,
surprised that the heat is just as intense as it was that morning,
although the white sun is no longer visible.
    A few street lamps cast a faint light. Black shadows flit past,
a laugh comes from an invisible throat in a car park just below
his window.
    He looks at the clothes in his suitcase, uncertain what would
be proper for the dining room of an African hotel. Without actually
choosing, he gets dressed and then hides half of his money
in a hole in the cement behind the toilet bowl.
    In the bar he sees to his surprise that almost all the guests are
white, surrounded by black waiters, all wearing bad shoes. He
sits down at a solitary table, sinks down into a chair that reminds
him of the seat in the taxi, and is at once surrounded by dark
waiters waiting for his order.
    'Gin and tonic,' he says politely.
    One of the waiters replies in a worried voice that there isn't
any tonic.
    'Is there anything else you can mix it with?' asks Olofson.
    'We have orange juice,' says the waiter.
    'That will be fine,' says Olofson.
    'Unfortunately there is no gin,' says the waiter.
    Olofson can feel himself starting to sweat. 'What do you have
then?' he asks patiently.
    'They don't have anything,' a voice replies from a nearby table,
and Olofson turns to see a bloated man with a red face, dressed
in a worn khaki suit.
    'The beer ran out a week ago,' the man continues. 'Today there
is cognac and sherry. For a couple of hours yet. Then that'll be
gone too. Rumour has it that there may be whisky tomorrow.
Who knows?'
    The man finishes his speech by giving the waiter a dirty look
and then leaning back in his chair.
    Olofson orders cognac. He has the feeling that Africa is a place
where everything is just about to run out.
    By his third glass of cognac an African woman suddenly sits
down in the chair next to him and gives him an inviting smile.
    'Company?' she asks.
    He is flattered, although he realises that the woman is a prostitute.
But she arrived too early, he thinks. I'm not ready yet.
He shakes his head.
    'No thanks. Not tonight.'
    Unfazed and still smiling, she gazes at him.
    'Tomorrow?'
    'Perhaps,' he says. 'But I may be leaving tomorrow.'
    The woman gets up and disappears in the darkness by the
bar.
    'Whores,' says the man at the next table, who seems to be
watching over Olofson like a guardian angel. 'They're cheap
here. But they're better at the other hotels.'
    'I see,' replies Olofson politely.
    'Here they're either too old or too young,' the man goes on.
'There was a better arrangement before.'
    Olofson never finds out what the prior arrangement consisted
of, since the man again breaks off the conversation, leans back in
his chair, and closes his eyes.
    In the restaurant he is surrounded by new waiters, and he sees
that they too all have worn-out shoes. One waiter who sets a
carafe of water on his table has no shoes at all, and Olofson stares
at his bare feet.
    After much hesitation he orders beef. Just as the food is set
on the table he feels an attack of severe diarrhoea coming on.
One of the waiters notices that he has put down his fork.
    'It doesn't taste good?' he asks anxiously.
    'I'm sure it tastes excellent,' says Olofson. 'It's just that my
stomach is acting up.'
    Helplessly he sees the waiters flocking around his table.
    'There's nothing wrong with the food,' he says. 'It's just my
stomach.' Then he can't hold out any longer. Astonished guests
watch his hasty flight