CHAPTER 1

A World Created after I Was Five

Life on earth must have been created after my fifth birthday. That isbecause I do not remember anything of life before my fifth birthday,but I remember a lot after it.

I remember I had a sweet little girlfriend, I lived in a friendlyneighborhood, and everyone liked me. There might have been a fewwho did not like me, but I chose to ignore them, just like I chose toignore life on earth before my fifth birthday.

I also remember some very peculiar adults who were great fun towatch and listen to, like the fellow who was called Your Highness,because he was the tallest man in town. Another one was calledMonster Abraham, not only because he was six feet tall, but becausehe was about that wide too. He looked like two sumo wrestlersinstalled on top of each other. The fact that his left eye sat in his faceabout an inch lower than the right eye did not add anything to hisbeauty either. Monster Abraham made a very good living by sellinglottery tickets, and most people believed that his unusual looks wouldbring them good luck.

There was also a man who looked like he was on loan fromanother planet. He was tall, very skinny, wore a long gray beard, andhad very pale skin. He always dressed in black. Looking at him, onefelt he might be reabsorbed back into the astral plane at any moment.He was called Mr. Egg because he measured the price of everything ineggs. For instance, if he would be asked how much he paid for a shirthe had just bought, he would have said something like, "twenty-fiveeggs." He believed money was not putting across a true picture ofwhat was spent to buy the shirt, but saying "twenty-five eggs" couldtrigger an image of "twenty-five breakfasts," and that was a morevisual understanding of the shirt's cost.

There was an undying story in town about the Egg Man debatinga local judge in a tax payment hearing. People loved to repeat thisstory to each other again and again even though most of them hadheard it several times.

The Egg Man owned and operated a haberdashery store, andsome of his taxes were delinquent. When he was summoned to courtfor a hearing, legend says the following conversation took placebetween the judge and Egg Man:

"Mr. Egg don't you have a real name?"

"No, Your Honor. If I did, no one would associate it with me. Iam known as Egg Man by everyone."

"Why did you not pay your taxes?"

"What taxes would they be?"

"Prosperity taxes."

"Your Honor, all my life I lived in poverty, and I have never seenprosperity."

"Nevertheless, your store will be sold to the highest bidder tosatisfy your unpaid taxes. Please ... sign where it is indicated."

"Why am I being asked to sign, Your Honor?"

"Because it is your store that is being sold."

"If it is my store, then I am not selling it!"

"This court has the authority, and I am selling it."

"In that case, Your Honor, it is more appropriate that you sign for it."

Egg Man's store was full of boxes, and each box had a sample ofwhat it contained (such as a zipper or a button) glued to the face ofthe box. His store was sold sight unseen to a bargain hunter who wasthe highest bidder. When the bargain hunter took possession of thestore and opened the boxes one by one, they were all empty. The EggMan, anticipating what the court would do, sold but never replacedall his merchandise.

The Egg Man was the hero in town for a long time. Even now,he is known as the man who defeated a very unpopular and unjusttax. When he was asked by a reporter of a local newspaper to makea comment, he said, "You couldn't get a dozen eggs for the entirecontents of that store."

Getting back to my girlfriend, I was close to six, and she waseight years old. That age difference was tremendous. She looked somuch more mature and grown up than me that everyone on thestreet was puzzled by our closeness. But she's the one who made thedecision. One day when I was playing soccer with kids my own ageon a dusty street, she came, took me by the hand, and said, "Let'sgo for a walk." We did, and we found that we had a wide variety ofinterests to talk about. After that, every time I came out of my house,she also came out, and we continued our talks. I used to get plentyof material for talking from reading old newspapers and listening toadults conversing among themselves. Once, while trying to walk andread a piece of old newspaper, I bumped my head on an electric pole,and I got a nasty bump on my forehead. I should have been angrywith myself for my carelessness, but I wasn't. I got a lot of loving carefor it from Tamar.

Yes that was her name: Tamar. She was a well-dressed,good-looking girl with long hair down to her waist and a veryconfidant smile. When she held my hand, I got an inexplicable feelingof well-being—just like the feeling I got when a strong wind madeher long hair swipe my face.

Tamar was by far the most beautiful creature in the neighborhood,and she was contrasted by an old man who lived in the same buildingas ours. His name was Samuel, and at the risk of being rude, I willhave to say he was the ugliest man in the neighborhood. At his veryadvanced age, he had wrinkled purpling skin and veins popping outall over him; he was somewhat scary. Samuel was wheelchair bound,and every time I passed by him, he would try to hand me some coins.He said something sounding like "chichiros" which made me evenmore scared, so I ran faster.

A few years went by before I found out that the old man, Samuel,was trying to tell me "cigarettes" when he kept on saying "chichiros."Because he was wheelchair bound and...