City, Sister, Silver, page 37
We drank tea, spared words. It was all too obvious. I didn’t know if Smoothy … who else he was working for, but I couldn’t imagine Hunter not knowing. He wasn’t a bit surprised to see me turn to stone as he walked into the room in a suit. I remembered the way he’d drifted into Kučera’s flat that time … and I shuddered. He knew I knew. I was hoping he hadn’t forgotten that souvenir on the shoulder he’d given me. The tattoo’d been erased from his face. He laid some cash on the table, plenty. I jabbed my index finger into my T-shirt, he nodded. Contract, byznys, payoff, nothing personal. I wrapped it up. Smoothy smirked in the background.
But I folded. Afterwards … in the car, when Smoothy got all chatty and started tellin those horror stories … the fella we were bringin back from Slovakia, bout fifty I’d say, laughed raspily as Smoothy prattled on in that way a theirs they got. In the pub where we ate, he showed it to me. It covered his whole chest, plus his arms. Even the back of his neck. Some came from the camp, some from the sharks that almost got him when he climbed in a dinghy and pushed off from the shore of his cruel homeland.
This gentleman here ate his children before he’d crossed the ocean, Smoothy informed me with a sugary smile. A piece of the ocean, that is. And not having any fingernails hampered him at first in his work in the chemical industry.
They didn’t try to make me finish my fried cheese. What he’d eaten in order to cross the ocean … had been for the sake of his mission, there was no need for Smoothy to stress that. I figured Smoothy … was a sicko, but probly the reason he kept feedin me his people’s sagas of suffering was because they ate at his brain.
I get paid to drive an talk, leave the rest out of it.
History spins in circles, Mr. Potok, note that the gentleman whom we are going to see, and whom we hope to find today, was an officer. A very able paratrooper, we have his dossier. Our superior, whom we may refer to as General Vang, truly values him. Just imagine, this man executed an entire village of traitors with his own two hands … in the Mekong Delta … and truly, he took his lumps as well … when they captured him, you see, they took bamboo chips …
Enough! I roared at Smoothy, pulling the car over. He was laughing. Aright then, I started the wheels back up.
My working hours were unlimited. And something happened to my time. I might’ve been out racin around with Smoothy all day, but when I got back … Černá was there.
The first night I came home from the Laotians’ and collapsed next to her sleeping body. I awoke to something touching my face … her fingers … and the way they touched me, every second my skin lived a life of its own …
Sorry, you’re snorin like crazy …
What, like a dog?
Like a pig.
I was a little insulted. But … she’d come back. All those touches brought me back to me, so I could fly out into normal life and come back to her at the end of the day.
We didn’t bother with whether our touches were sensual, sensuous, or total nonsense those first few nights, because that was the only time we had to see each other, I didn’t even know if she stayed in the flat the rest of the time … and I didn’t ask … I discovered that being with her in reality was actually all there was.
Černá, hey … this is gettin … freaky.
But it wasn’t, not with her, with her it just … was, I swept my head clean of all the rags, splinters, and bandages a person wraps around his brain over the years, out of self-defense … to better survive in a world full of mystery.
But even though I was nearing bliss … even though I was with her, I still had dreams. Sometimes they just come out of your head. I used to have to dance because of them, wear myself out in the day so I wouldn’t live at night, but now: even despite my work with Smoothy and his horror stories, despite all the everyday, chaotic, waking stuff, only she was in my dreams. Daytime, nighttime, she was my love, my buttress against the world, she herself became my world, but in my dreams … many times I saw her face and reached out, body straining, but the face would turn into a grimace, a sneer … that time in the cellar, She-Dog had turned into an old lady … Černá, on the other hand, turned into something … monstrous, I wanted to scream but couldn’t make a sound, then woke up, relieved, her above me again, naked, smiling, I laid my hands on her chest and the face began to fade into a grimace, an unfeminine mask, the shining paths of fangs traveling up through her skin, I screamed and woke again, Černá, I blurted … What is it? You want more? I snuggled up to her … and her smile rippled and the lips disappeared, exposing the flesh and the empty darkness beyond it … I would travel like that from dream to dream, and sometimes, sometimes I couldn’t take it and would ricochet out of the dream, plunging down and down, until at the last second, using all my brainpower, I would stop myself and reascend … rebounding off the bottom … and there was my love and it wasn’t a dream, I could feel her touch, her lips … and she opened her eyes, leaning over me, speaking soothingly … her hair on my shoulders, and I opened my eyes and the Monster was back again.
That was how I lived at night, it lived in me, through me. Rising up out of the dark pit to find my loved one gone and a pendulum swishing through the air.
But I also knew if I stayed down there in the depths, fleeing the sneer of the one that I loved, I would never return.
Well that sucks, she said. Should I leave?
No.
My mate, my unearthly star, the one who gathers up the ashes of my heart, my sparkling jewel, made breakfast. A couple of times we even went out. To look at the Czech kings’ graves, for instance. She’d never seen them before. She quickly picked up my habits, tapping her ashes into the coffee grounds too. Sometimes she washed the dishes. I guess it was like being married. I let her go through my wardrobe and look at She-Dog’s clothes. She didn’t think much of them.
This one’s too modern. An this one … too postmodern. This is cool, she triumphantly whipped out a white, polka-dotted dress … the one She-Dog wore to her confirmation.
That evening I’d come home after some especially unproductive talks with the board of an aluminum factory … had to convince em we were shooting a film about the Vietnamese. Talk about stupid, who’d be interested. I buttered them up though. What a drag. Better to go with the envelope strategy, like I did with the Organization. But I oughta explain, this was real fast work … I had no idea when Vohřecký would turn up again, and whenever I asked Smoothy where he was shipping his foundlings to, he’d just laugh and launch into his horror stories … I didn’t have time to figure out who to give the envelope to, the boss or the janitor … so I could find out.
One day I walked through a gate … it was near the Austrian border, and despite the barbwire fence all around the dorm, the wheeling and dealing proceeded unchecked … I walked up with an armful of stockings, guard stretched out his hand, gave him a pair of kneesocks or two … lively place, I tripped on a bone and rammed into a baby carriage, the tot started bawlin, I was intrigued … rocked the little shaver and sang him a tune, a teeny-weeny half-breed … damn, what’ll he speak … the hallway was plastered with busty singers, giant white women, and yep: Bruce Lee with nunchuks, he was all over the place … three guys came up and I suddenly forgot the name of the fella we were after … left the stockings there. Smoothy wrote it down on a piece of paper, I went back. Get lost, said the guard, this time empty-handed. Crime unit, I told him with delight and an exclamation point, flashing my ID. He didn’t look sure … I shoved the paper at one of the three … waiting faithfully by the stockings, studying the Latin characters … Whe’e Mis’er Viet who wri’e dis? Out in the car. You ou’ frien’, ti? Huh? Ti, li’e drink? All right, thanks, just for a minute.
In the room the television mesmerized. Couple guys loungin in sweats on the beds, sound turned off on the TV, I looked at the pictures, my new hosts … weren’t like the Laosters, who’d come illegally, true, but it wasn’t the same … some, caught up in the folklore, merrily flung themselves onto the path … the sweats, the TV, I sucked in the air … weariness, flat beer, and nasty questions, all boiling down to a very unsettling one underlying it all: What’re we doing here? What next? Where else? And why?
Couple a them got up and slipped out, I noticed, a machete lay under the bed, dust balls all around, but not a speck on it … right, in this place, surrounded by wire … and this here was slavery and the tea was nice and hot.
Peered out the window and all at once the gate opened and a cop car pulled up in front of the dorm, guard hustled over eagerly, guess I didn’t fool him … picked myself up, my hosts, catching on to my motion, very quickly and understandingly got to their feet … no worry, no worry, said one, leadin me down the hall to a window, washroom was pretty wild, showerheads torn outta the wall like there’d been some kinda battle … wash, here, what for? in these kindsa places people gave up on more than just keepin clean, I squeezed through the window and jumped … hunched down in the nettles, bolted out back, cut through some woods toward the car, came out on the road … one of the ones I’d given the paper to was sittin in the ditch, head on his chest, the other two had Smoothy sandwiched … I broke into a run, they scuffled without a word … I let loose: Hola ho! They jumped back, saw it was me, took off, but I blew right by em, hopped in the car, and as soon as I sensed the gasping Smoothy — after all those trips, we knew each other by sound — climb in back, I stepped on it.
We drove in silence. I was just starting to wonder whether Cerná had any cash, maybe enough to get to Vienna, Budapest … anywhere, when Smoothy said: Stop the car. I did, under a bridge, figured maybe he was wounded or somethin … but then someone knocked at the window, it was that Vietnamese I’d seen in the ditch … I yelped, clutching the wheel, but Smoothy patted me on the shoulder: Why, that’s the gentleman! Things have worked out beautifully today. That’s Captain Zueng … or something like that.
Great, Smoothy, whatever you want, but I’m pullin off for some coffee.
It was truly a beautiful roadside restaurant. The Vietnamese were refused service and I couldn’t use the toilet. Since I wouldn’t order without them. We drove on, Smoothy chuckling and jabbering away with his new acquisition, and me … I was ashamed. Even if it ended up the only … manly act of my life. I pulled a U-turn and started back in the other direction. Mr. Potok, ahem, said Smoothy … we have a mission, there is no point in getting upset … motherfuckers, bloated dumplings, I fumed … screw the mission, Smoothy … this is the mission, I’ll crush him, I muttered, picturing the waiter in my mind … worthless bum, half-wit European mishmash, talks like a TV show, dreamless heathen … a Czech pig, one of millions … I pushed that machine like a horse outta hell … Smoothy tried to reason with me: But Mr. Potok, that will not give us satisfaction … the captain kept quiet, sittin there in his jumpsuit, probably couldna cared less … who we were after … I parked the car, flew in there … not a sign of the waiter … I ran into the toilet, the kitchen … Who’re you looking for? a short blonde girl asked kindly, reminded me of Elsa … uhh, he’s not here, I went into the dining room … Smoothy and the captain were at a table drinking beer, heads still foamy … they do an outstanding svíčková here, I’ll take mine with six dumplings, and for the captain here as well, have a seat, Mr. Potok, now now, as the driver perhaps you shouldn’t … I pounded down his beer.
It was an outstanding idea to come back, you show great initiative, the general is very pleased with you … then Smoothy started in with an analysis of the Czech Foreign Ministry’s current policy vis-à-vis the Communist states of Southeast Asia, he knew from experience that had a soporific effect on me … the captain fed his face … I started laughing … the blonde bustled past, back and forth … Mr. Smoothy, tell me one thing … Yes, of course, that is what I am here for, my dear friend … Who’m I workin for?
You are working for a just cause, have no doubts, and by the way you have not heard the story of the captain here yet, he is a pilot, and when he came home from the reeducation camp after fifteen years … you see his mother was head of the Religious Confederation in Hue, and when the captain returned to the house where he was born, in a little village, his mother was out in the field, hanging … you see the Communists had crucified her …
Černá sat there, music playing, candles on the table, waiting for me. She had the white dress on and a different hairdo. Up in a knot. I took the dress off her, didn’t go easy on the thing, it wasn’t important to me anymore, she just took a quick look but liked it, we fell on the bed and made love … and from that moment on I stopped having those dreams. It’s great, I said … And it’ll stay that way, she said. Long as you don’t have anyone … No, just you … I was thinkin, that dress belongs to somebody. Where is she? … It’s just a dress now. And you’re on your own? … Yeah … What do you say we go out some time, some night? Yeah. If you’re thinkin about that guy you beat up, he’s all right now. You don’t hafta hide. He’s gone. I know. So why’re you holed up here, I mean … I’m takin a break, you know. Just tired … Uh-huh.
Then we went to her place, first thing next day. She lived out across from Ohrada. Attic flat. It was a sizable room with a kitchen and … no more plastic bags and no walkway. Just stairs and dens, it was excellent. Table and some shelves. Music stuff. Looked like she coulda wriggled outta there at any moment. Books. Those’re … mostly presents, she said.
Yep, assorted Holans* and Senecas, plus Anthologies and Libraries of Wisdom, even Sunshine Meditations, stuff you give in the family on name days … in packages tied with ribbon. I threw a fit in front of the bookshelf once … yep, those’re givers, all right! Jeffers and the Lyres of Love, for relatives an smart folks it’s a can’t-miss … just so long as the girl reads, heh-heh, they say to themselves, tuggin at their caps, that stuff’s been boiled to death in the textbook pot, bout as dangerous as milk … won’t give the little one crazy ideas, but sometimes … sometimes she outwits em … lyin around and whatnot … nothin goin on … maybe she’s got her period, a hangover, the blues, maybe a combination … peace and quiet reign and there’s nobody on the phone, no godforsaken visitor to interrupt the moment, and the girl reaches for the book and it happens … the words and sentences come to life, a miracle, how many times has it happened already … aright aright, if the books bother you I’ll throw a blanket over em. I just keep em here for the noise, when I rehearse, the neighbors, soundproofing, get it?
I solemnly presented her with the Solingens, she disappeared into the kitchen, and I went through my jacket … the photos I’d taken from that old guy were gone. Černá … but I left it alone. She took em, I lost em … same difference, like when I told her about my search. Bolkon? Never heard of it, maybe it used to be called somethin different … my folks lived on Lenin, I donno … Dernet, donno him … I’ve met some junkies, who hasn’t, but in that part of town? Aright, Černá, it was probly a false trail, I’m glad.
I took a look around the attic, but there was just one other flat up there. In the back. That’s Max, said Černá … quiet type … that Mr. Dráp guy mighta moved out, haven’t seen him for a while.
Sometimes pigeons landed on the windowsill at night, Černá told me she used to give them food. I kept examining her face, her body … when I wasn’t out driving with Smoothy, I would just sit still and, say, pretend like I was reading … even managed to keep my mouth shut … and that says a lot, when you don’t have to fill the agonizing dying of time with words, that’s intimacy … to call it a happy time wouldn’t be right, it was nonstop tenderness, and that’s beyond words.
Hey, you haven’t turned a page, half an hour now.
I was havin a little dream about you.
I’m right here.
We drank. But the Fiery had a different effect on me now. It was like being rocked in a cradle as we wove our words together, and at times our tongues … I had a feeling she sensed my need and at first just went along because she didn’t have any way out, or just happened to have an urge to be with somebody right that second, but then again … especially when we were side by side, her touching me … it was entirely possible she needed it too, that she was hungry for the same thing as me.
She didn’t wear any protective stuff, her body was clean, almost … I don’t need silver, she told me, and I believed her. But I didn’t take the Madonna off, even though … Černá wanted me to … get totally naked … I can’t stand when guys’ve got circles an hoops. But I never removed that silver of mine.
She told stories, the sound of her raspy voice beside me … I liked that she’d also acted before, not in Prague, and to my surprise … you worked at a paper? You, a secretary, I think I’m gonna faint! In TV, no shit? I couldn’t picture it. And then she started to get into singing, into getting somewhere with singing … including into people.
Was it fun workin … at Černá’s?
There no. But it was fun singin … fuckin with those assholes’ dicks. An seein how bad they wanted it, seein em go for it …
C’mon, they’re not all …
From up there they’re just faces. One big face. Sometimes they all merge.
No time to choose?
Sometimes yeah, sometimes you choose … I chose you. An here you are. I remember, know what we used to call you guys?
No.
The quiet table. There weren’t a lot of em. Always … someone grabbin my ass.
I thought you liked that … an Hadraba told me … never mind.
I hated that … there was this kid that used to sit with you, big beak … kina skinny, dark … I liked him too.
Sharky!
Uh … David, he told me his name was …
Nope. That’s another guy.
Well he said he was David, I donno why. An I been meanin to ask … why’d you climb into that receptacle that time … cut yourself up …
