فصل 95

florian

I barricaded entry to the projection room, wedging items under and against the door so it could not be opened. The movie house was now overrun with refugees seeking warmth and shelter. Many had ventured upstairs and I turned them away. My pistol sat loaded and ready. If I was going to forge a pass, I couldn’t be disturbed.

The Polish girl knew. I approached her when she entered the movie house and she handed me her pass without a word. I memorized the Gothic style of the writing the hue of the ink, traced the stamp, and made note of the terms used. Joana’s pass was slightly different from the girl’s due to her assignment. It was helpful to see both.

My father was overjoyed when I showed drafting and visual memory aptitude. As a small boy I could briefly look at his maps and then draw them myself. But as I grew older, my interest wasn’t in creation, but duplication. I loved the challenge of trying to precisely re-create Father’s maps so he couldn’t distinguish the original from the copy.

He acknowledged and praised my talent, but wanted me to produce instead of reproduce. “You are so talented, Florian, why not create something of your own, something that comes from your imagination? As the philosophers say, ‘Life is short, but art is long.’ Contribute a piece of art instead of copying others, son.”

But I wasn’t interested. I loved the idea of restoring old treasures and pieces of art. And once in a while, I liked copying them too.

The handwritten parts of the boarding pass were black. The ink stamp was black. The pass would be simple to forge.