Izba 304 má výhľad

Bolo po jedenástej, keď Marcos konečne dorazil do hotela. Jeho let pristál s dvojhodinovým meškáním a taxikár ho viezol okľukou cez celé mesto. Postavil kufor na podlahu v hale a pozrel sa na ženu za recepciou.

It was past eleven when Marcos finally reached the hotel. His flight had landed two hours late and the taxi driver had taken the long way through the city. He set his suitcase down on the lobby floor and looked at the woman behind the desk.

"Rezervácia na meno Marcos Soto," povedal. Túto vetu si precvičoval v lietadle. Žena chvíľu písala na klávesnici, potom urobila grimasu, ktorú nedokázal rozlúštiť.

"Reservation under Marcos Soto," he said. He had practiced the sentence on the plane. The woman typed for a moment, then made a small face he could not read.

"Prepáčte," povedala. "Vaša izba už nie je k dispozícii. Mali sme problém s rezervačným systémom. Ale máme jednu voľnú izbu na treťom poschodí." Zastavila sa. "Má balkón. Rovnaká cena."

"I am sorry," she said. "Your room is no longer available. We had a problem with the booking system. But we have one room left, on the third floor." She paused. "It has a balcony. Same price."

Marcos si vzal kľúč bez námietok. Výťah bol starší ako on sám. Zaškrípalo to, keď sa šplhal nahor. Keď otvoril dvere izby 304 a odtiahol záclony, mesto sa rozprestieralo pod ním — strechy domov, osvetlené okná, malé námestie s fontánou, ktorá stále tiekla.

Marcos took the key without arguing. The elevator was older than he was. It groaned as it climbed. When he opened the door of 304 and pushed back the curtains, the city spread out below him — rooftops, lit windows, a small square with a fountain still running.

Vyšiel na balkón v kabáte a pozoroval dvoch ľudí, ako si pri fontáne podávajú cigaretu. Vietor bol studený. Dlho sa nepohol.

He stepped onto the balcony in his coat and watched two people share a cigarette by the fountain. The wind was cold. He did not move for a long time.