the glamrocks responded, then repeated it word for word in an out of tune chorus, only replacing ‘mama’ with the usual ‘mana’. Clearly their minds were unburdened with excess information, and so they could memorize and reproduce any word or phrase with ease.
“Well, what do you know!” said Matilda, surprised. “Okay, let’s go outside. It’s stuffy in here. Let’s go!”
The glamrocks obeyed and flocked behind Matilda who led them outside. But they could not calm down outside either. Overcome with emotion and very excited, they arranged themselves according to their custom in a circle and started stamping their feet, muttering their new gibberish.
“Mana-mia, hir a go egen…”
This time, they confidently uttered the letter, but the cheerful song had turned into a gloomy chant, like soldiers mechanically singing a boring drill song.
“Ma-na, dast ha mach a mist yu…”
Observing the stomping and mumbling, Matilda thought, ‘No, this is just another kind of frenzy. This won’t do. I need to get them going with something more positive.’
“Right, listen up!” commanded Matilda. “Stop where you are. Now we’re going to learn some new gibberish. In fact, it’s not just gibberish, it’s a song-dance. That’s even more! Even better! You will feel wonderful! Grip onto each other and repeat the movements and the words after me.”
The glamrocks were surprised, but obeyed, nonetheless. Matilda stood at the front of the line, placed the hands of the glamrock immediately behind on her waist warning him, ‘Don’t touch my bow!’, and began to sing, beginning the steps of a once fashionable dance.
Once late at night on an empty street,
I returned from a romance sad again.
Believe it or not, for some reason my feet
started dancing this dance themselves.
Again, the path led to my sweetheart,
again, I was at her door,
tapped at the window, waited a little.
Listen dear, come out quickly.
One, two, put on your shoe!
Still asleep? Shame on you!
Wonderful, sweet, funny jenka
Invites us to dance.’[4]
Awkwardly out of time at first, the glamrocks copied Matilda’s movements, becoming increasingly coordinated and merry as they went along. It turned out that they were even capable of reproducing the melody. Even though it was new to them, it was clear that they loved the song-dance.
Anyone who has ever seen the letkajenkha performed with dancers jumping back and forth making funny movements with their feet can imagine what a spectacle it was to see the same dance performed by the glamrocks. The diva knew how much the good old dance had been made trite by the glamorous divas of today. But she was not quite as trivial as her ‘fellow tradeswomen’. Matilda valued everything that was real, which was why she sang and danced like they did in the good old days, which she loved, just as much as she loved the twist.
The glamrocks quickly mastered the melody and words, and were happily singing along, jumping about enthusiastically and throwing their legs out from under their robes. They were engulfed in an unfamiliar feeling they had never experienced until now – happiness.
‘One, two, put on your shoe!
Still asleep? Shame on you!
Wonderful, sweet, funny jenka
Invites us to dance.’
Having danced to their heart’s content, they gathered around Matilda, and brimmingover with delight began to praise her in their own fashion.
“Mana-tida-enka! Mana-tida-enka! Invites us to dance!”
They would have gone on shouting for much longer, but Matilda waved her hands at them.
“Stop, that’s enough! I’m tired. I need a rest.”
As if filled with understanding, the glamrocks took her by the hands and walked her in the direction of the buildings shouting all the while.
“Mana-tida! Mana-tida-enka! You are our mana!”
They escorted her into the nearest house, carefully sat her down on something resembling a bed and left, respectfully stepping backwards as they went. The bed area was covered with hay. There was a table and a chair in the room, as well as some kind of toilet. The rest of the premises were empty and extremely austere. Round windows were positioned high up on every wall and there was just one door. Everything was made of the same unfamiliar, smooth material with which all the other buildings were trimmed. Despite being primitive, the construction of the dwelling was quite technically advanced, the only exception being the hay, who knows where that had come from here in the desert.
Matilda sighed with relief. They had left her alone at last. But not for long. Soon the door opened and a glamrock entered the house without knocking of course, (such were their manners), although carrying an offering. Only now did Matilda realize how hungry she was. The glamrock placed a tray on the table on which there was a cup, a spoon and a dish.
“What’s this?” asked Matilda.
“Food!” he answered concisely.
The cup contained water and the bowl, something that looked like beans. It did not smell too bad. Matilda tried the beans cautiously. Oddly enough the dish turned out to be quite tasty.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
“Hlevjun gives it to us. There is lots of food!”
’Bastards’ thought Matilda. ‘Why did you want to eat me then if you have shit loads of grub?’ But she did not say anything. The glamrock did not say much and she did not have the slightest desire to start interrogating him. He left, walking backwards away from her and closing the door behind him. Finally, it seemed, the ceremonies for today were complete.
Matilda ate quickly, climbed onto the simple bed and covered herself in the hay. The bed was not up to much but in circumstances like these, there was no point in hoping for comfort. The poor thing was so tired from the events and emotions of the day that she could not fall asleep and instead burst into tears. Yes, everything had turned out well in the end. The glamorous diva had become the glamrocks’ goddess. But what next? What could Matilda do here in the city of glamrocks? Why should she stay?
Matilda was overcome with deep sorrow. ‘Was she really not destined to return home? Would life really never be again as it was before? Her old life remained in a carefree past that had not been valued and might now be lost forever. And no-one would ever put her to bed in clean sheets, kiss her little forehead and affectionately call her ‘Tili, darling’. She could remember her mother doing that. How was she now? She must be worried. And what about the others? Were they looking for her?’
With these sad thoughts, now totally exhausted, Matilda fell asleep.
Mannequin City
Priestess Itfut looked around her frantically. She was not easily surprised by anything these days, but recent events and her surrounding reality were simply outrageous. After the sand timer or whatever it was had been turned over and started pouring sand again, reality had calmed down. The sky turned blue and the sand turned yellow but there was still
Song-dance ’Letkajenkha’, author unknown.
