The Best Book in the World by Peter Stjernstrom Read Free Book Online Page A

oven and dries them, slowly but surely. Just like us humans in the autumn. We are shut up inside our houses with boiling hot radiators that pour out regulated heat while we wither up and whimper. Yes, prawns could very well be autumn.’
    ‘All right, then, if prawns are autumn, then what are mushrooms ?’ the pizza guy goes on, having now joined the match. ‘Mushrooms must be autumn, surely. Wild mushrooms are picked in the autumn. Not by me, I mean, but by people who pick mushrooms.’
    ‘Yes, damn it, of course you’re right about that,’ says Titus and puts his hand thoughtfully on his chin. ‘Okay, mushrooms are autumn and shrimps are summer. But what about the ham and mussels?’
    The pizza guy laughs as he slides the peel under the pizza and loads it into the oven. ‘You are a funny one, mister. I have never thought about that before.’
    ‘So, what do you think? Aren’t mushrooms just as much summer as prawns?’
    ‘No, no. Mussels are women. Women are spring. When life awakens in the spring, it’s full of women. I know, we Italians love mussels. They open up in the spring. Like flowers that produce buds and then come into bloom, you know. Mussels are spring. The best season, that’s obvious’
    ‘Then ham must be winter. And that goes with Christmas ham and so on.’
    ‘Yes, perfect! We have solved the pizza mystery, mister.’
    ‘Have we? Are you sure?’
    ‘Absolutely. It was easy!’
    ‘But we haven’t finished. The artichoke in the middle. What’s that then? It can’t be a fifth season. Is it the sun, perhaps?’
    ‘No, not the sun. It’s grey. A bit brownish, sort of. That’s no sun. The sun is yellow. Then there would have been a pepper.’
    ‘But what is it then?’ Titus wonders, sincerely worried by the mystery.
    ‘God, perhaps?’ the pizza guy hazards, and makes the sign of the cross on his white shirt.
    ‘Greyish-brown… yes, perhaps,’ says Titus, almost to himself. ‘An elderly man with a beard. Like in the pictures of God at primary school. Yes, perhaps it is God… who watches over the world…’
    ‘You know, not all pizza bakers have artichokes in their Quattros.’
    ‘No? Why not?’
    ‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. Perhaps they think it’s a tastier pizza without it.’
    ‘Deism. Deism-baker. God has left the world,’ says Titus thoughtfully and looks into the oven. ‘He is no longer a part of the pizza. He only watches it from a distance.’
    The surface of the pizza bubbles a bit. It begins to turn nice and brown. A little part of the rim of the pizza is even burnt. God is certainly still on this pizza. The planet is in flames and he sits like a Buddha in the middle, his arms crossed, without so much as lifting a leaf of his artichoke overcoat. He is seemingly completely unperturbed and still has the same nuance that he had when he first came to the pizza. Why doesn’t he do anything? What’s he waiting for? The Big Bang?
    The pizza guy takes the beautiful newly baked Quattro out of the oven. He puts it on a large plate, shakes a little oregano over it and slides it over to Titus.
    ‘
Bon appétit
!’
    Titus devoutly tucks into the part with the prawns. But hang on a minute. You must surely start eating a Quattro in the middle ofwinter, after New Year? The seasons can’t begin in the middle of summer. There must be some damned order, even on a pizza. That means that you must begin about one third of the way into the ham. Then you eat your way clockwise with the mussels, the prawns and the mushrooms, ending with the ham again.
    Titus starts afresh. He turns the plate round and puts the knife into the New Year’s night of the ham.
    Then he discovers something horrific. The prawns come after the ham! The seasons come in the wrong order! This was bad news, very bad news. But he makes up his mind not to say anything to the pizza guy. Why trouble him with it? He has been friendly and helped Titus to sort out all the difficult Quattro concepts.