The Marco Effect: A Department Q Novel by Jussi Adler-Olsen Page A
Authors: Jussi Adler-Olsen
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this is not the case for all of us. But fear not, for we are all of us brought together by God.”
Everyone sat as though hypnotized, but not Marco. He stared at the ground and tried to focus his gaze on a blade of grass. Zola said they were not all family. What then?
Zola spread his arms as though to embrace them all. “Yesterday it came to me that Almighty God created one singular day on which nothing whatsoever occurred in the world. A day when everything stood still. Yes, yesterday I read about this one unique day on which no plane fell from the sky, no wars raged, no event of significance found its way to the front page of any newspaper. On this day, not one notable personage died or was born. The wheels of history ceased to turn, if only for a day, for God desired that this day should be the purest, least eventful day on earth. And it was surely on a day such as this that the Lord Jesus was born.” He nodded pensively. “And why did God create such a day? I shall tell you. He did so to perfectly frame one, single momentous event that took place on exactly the day in question.” He closed his eyes tight. “And do you know what day that was, children?”
Once more, the majority shook their heads, even many of the adults could not refrain.
“The day was April 11, 1954, the least eventful day of our time. And several of us present here know why he chose that very day, and why the silence of sudden peace in the world descended in veneration of one special occurrence that was to outshine all others. And now I shall reveal to you all what it was.” His face lit up in a smile wide enough to expose his gums. It had been a long time since he had smiled so much.
“The reason God did so was because this was the day on which I was born.”
Nearly all the adults broke into applause, but most of the children merely stared blankly at Zola as though having failed to truly grasp the momentous nature of that fantastic day. Marco was among them.
For he believed it to be a lie.
Zola lifted his head and gestured for them all to be quiet. And then he told them of how as a young man in Little Rock he had fled the draft that would have sent him to the war in Vietnam, and of how later in Italy he saw the flowers of peace and love bloom among like-minded peers in the Damanhur movement.
The garb of the hippies became his uniform and during those first months he became enthralled by northern Italy, soon joining up with the other flower children who would become his family. And on one particularly enchanting night when the stars were out in their multitudes they vowed to establish their own community on the plains of Umbria, where they would live together like the Roma in solidarity with the fate and circumstances of that martyred people.
There were many difficult words, but Marco understood what they meant. The grown-ups had lied to him and the other children. They were not Roma at all, and from that moment, being Marco would be so much harder, no matter what Zola said. It was like having your skin removed and replaced by another.
Marco looked around at the other children. They were silent and motionless. He didn’t like it at all.
Behind him stood two of the adults with somber faces. Once, Marco had heard them whisper that Zola had been expelled by the Damanhur movement for stealing. The other adults seemed not to have paid attention to this seditious comment, for they stood like an arcade of statues, as entranced as the children.
Zola raised his arms above them. “Just as with the Jews, God sentenced the Roma to wander the earth until they made themselves deserving of his grace. A curse lay upon them, as it had upon Job, so they were compelled to beg, steal, and rob their way through life. Yet this was but one example of the trials imposed by God, as when Abraham was instructed to sacrifice his own son. But friends, I say to you: we no longer need to bear the chalice of the Roma, for I have received a message from God and
Everyone sat as though hypnotized, but not Marco. He stared at the ground and tried to focus his gaze on a blade of grass. Zola said they were not all family. What then?
Zola spread his arms as though to embrace them all. “Yesterday it came to me that Almighty God created one singular day on which nothing whatsoever occurred in the world. A day when everything stood still. Yes, yesterday I read about this one unique day on which no plane fell from the sky, no wars raged, no event of significance found its way to the front page of any newspaper. On this day, not one notable personage died or was born. The wheels of history ceased to turn, if only for a day, for God desired that this day should be the purest, least eventful day on earth. And it was surely on a day such as this that the Lord Jesus was born.” He nodded pensively. “And why did God create such a day? I shall tell you. He did so to perfectly frame one, single momentous event that took place on exactly the day in question.” He closed his eyes tight. “And do you know what day that was, children?”
Once more, the majority shook their heads, even many of the adults could not refrain.
“The day was April 11, 1954, the least eventful day of our time. And several of us present here know why he chose that very day, and why the silence of sudden peace in the world descended in veneration of one special occurrence that was to outshine all others. And now I shall reveal to you all what it was.” His face lit up in a smile wide enough to expose his gums. It had been a long time since he had smiled so much.
“The reason God did so was because this was the day on which I was born.”
Nearly all the adults broke into applause, but most of the children merely stared blankly at Zola as though having failed to truly grasp the momentous nature of that fantastic day. Marco was among them.
For he believed it to be a lie.
Zola lifted his head and gestured for them all to be quiet. And then he told them of how as a young man in Little Rock he had fled the draft that would have sent him to the war in Vietnam, and of how later in Italy he saw the flowers of peace and love bloom among like-minded peers in the Damanhur movement.
The garb of the hippies became his uniform and during those first months he became enthralled by northern Italy, soon joining up with the other flower children who would become his family. And on one particularly enchanting night when the stars were out in their multitudes they vowed to establish their own community on the plains of Umbria, where they would live together like the Roma in solidarity with the fate and circumstances of that martyred people.
There were many difficult words, but Marco understood what they meant. The grown-ups had lied to him and the other children. They were not Roma at all, and from that moment, being Marco would be so much harder, no matter what Zola said. It was like having your skin removed and replaced by another.
Marco looked around at the other children. They were silent and motionless. He didn’t like it at all.
Behind him stood two of the adults with somber faces. Once, Marco had heard them whisper that Zola had been expelled by the Damanhur movement for stealing. The other adults seemed not to have paid attention to this seditious comment, for they stood like an arcade of statues, as entranced as the children.
Zola raised his arms above them. “Just as with the Jews, God sentenced the Roma to wander the earth until they made themselves deserving of his grace. A curse lay upon them, as it had upon Job, so they were compelled to beg, steal, and rob their way through life. Yet this was but one example of the trials imposed by God, as when Abraham was instructed to sacrifice his own son. But friends, I say to you: we no longer need to bear the chalice of the Roma, for I have received a message from God and
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