by Gy
I nodded but didn't say a thing because I knew that until you get questions fired at you, you don't really need to say much of anything, no, that can only spell trouble, so I waited for him to ask me something, but Iron Fist didn't say a thing, he just kept puffing his cigarette, at least he wasn't blowing the smoke on me anymore, and at last he spoke. He asked if I really did like those Homeland Defense competitions because he remembered well how angry I'd been when he dropped me from the team, and I just sort of half nodded and half shook my head, I didn't know what the proper answer was, if I said yes, that's why he'd slap me around, and if I said no, then that would be the reason, but I had to say something, because if I didn't I'd get slapped all the same, so finally I told him that what I really liked was shooting, not that I told Iron Fist why, I didn't say it's because when I was little my dad taught me to use an air gun and took me to the shooting gallery a lot, where the two of us always hit everything right on target, one time I even shot out a candle's flame. Anyway, all I told Iron Fist was that I liked to shoot, and he nodded and said he could tell that from the way I held a gun, which was just the way you're supposed to, I was a natural born talent, and he was really sorry when he had to drop me from the team, but he had no other choice, Comrade Principal told him flat out that on account of what happened to my father, I wasn't allowed to be on the team because I too had become unreliable from a political point of view, and what they teach at Homeland Defense competitions is a highly classified state secret, and it's best for me not to even know that stuff because I might get into trouble on account of it. And Iron Fist really was right about that, one time I almost got into big trouble because of what we learned about radioactivity, but that didn't matter a bit, I would have been angry at him all the same for taking me off the team, but I knew that these questions were just meant to soften me up and what he really wanted was for me to admit that I had taken the valve out of his motorcycle wheel, and so I didn't say anything else, I didn't even look into his eyes, no, instead I looked at those plastic models behind his back, the seventh graders said there was even one of the female genital organ and that it looked just like the real thing, but of course I didn't see that model anywhere, it must have been locked away in the lower cabinet.
So anyway, I was looking at those models and not saying a thing, Iron Fist was smoking his cigarette and not saying a thing, and I had no idea what he was planning, so I began getting more and more worried, and then I heard the bell ring, and I knew that physics class was about to begin, and I wanted to stand up, but Iron Fist told me to stay right where I was because he'd arranged for me to be let out of the next class, and that's when I really got scared because he'd never done that before with anyone, and I must have gone pale because right away Iron Fist asked, "Whatsa matter, why do you look like you're about to shit your pants?" and I said, "It's nothing at all," but Iron Fist just smiled and said, well, my face was pretty white, even though it really wasn't necessary to be scared of him because he'd never bothered anyone, and he didn't want to do me any harm, he just wanted to ask me for a little favor, but if I talked about this to anyone at all, I really would have something to be scared of because I wouldn't survive that, the same thing would end up happening to me as happened to my dad, and then I almost spoke up, I wanted to say that it's not true, my dad hadn't died, he was still alive, because if he did die, I'd know about that, but I didn't say anything after all, and then Iron Fist said that Horáciú, the boy who took my place on the Homeland Defense team, had been hospitalized on account of falling down the stairs and breaking his nose, and the city finals were being held today, and he needed someone to put in Horáciú's place, someone he could trust, and so he thought of me, but he didn't say that this was because I was the best shot in school, no, he said it was because I looked the most like Horáciú and we were going to the competition at School No. 16 just as if I were Horáciú, but he'd have me know again that I wasn't to speak about this to anyone, and he didn't ask if I wanted to do it or was willing to do it, no, instead he said it as if he was certain that this was how it would be because I had to do what he wanted, and he said that the city finals had already been held in cross-country, the 3,000-yard obstacle course, map reading, politics, and military history, the only thing left was shooting, and although we'd done pretty well in other areas, the competition in shooting was really stiff this year, we now had only a theoretical possibility, a mathematical one, he said, of getting through to the next round, and to do that I had to shoot at least 117 points out of 120, but even then, no more than two shooters on other teams could shoot better than me, true, with those cheap Czechoslovak air rifles this was hopeless anyway, especially since we had to save on ammunition, and everyone got no more than three practice shots, but still, there was a mathematical possibility, and then I said, "That means that if I shoot a perfect score, 120 points, the team will definitely get to the next round," and Iron Fist nodded, and again he blew the cigarette smoke at me, and he said, "Oh sure, that's all I need, for you to shoot a perfect score, how could you even think such a stupid thing," and he got really, really nervous, his mustache was quivering, I saw, and he was taking only little puffs on his cigarette, but I said didn't he think I could do it, because if not, he sure didn't remember how well I used to shoot, because I do know how to shoot, I do, I know how to feel the gun, how to become one with the bullet the moment I pull the trigger, I know how sharpshooters think because my dad taught me that, and I told Iron Fist that if he didn't believe it, he should go ahead and take me to that competition, I'd show him, I'd show him where those holes would be once I was done with the target because if I wanted, I sure could shoot 120 points if necessary, or even 130, because my hands had what it takes to switch one of the practice pellets for the tip of a ballpoint pen since if you need to, you can shoot with that too, yes, that's how I'd get my hands on an extra pellet, and then I could shoot even 130 points if I wanted because no one would notice that I'd taken not twelve shots but thirteen. And as I said all this, all of a sudden I got such a big slap that I almost fell off the chair, Iron Fist hit me so suddenly that his cigarette dropped right out from between his fingers and I had to grab hold of the back of the chair from the side, and the cigarette fell to the rug, I saw, where it was still giving off smoke, and I felt dizzy, that's how big a slap I got, but luckily my mouth just happened to be open when he hit me because I was still in the middle of a sentence, and so I didn't bite my tongue and nothing happened to my teeth, and then Iron Fist said I should be ashamed of myself for daring to talk to him in such a tone of voice, it was best if I didn't forget that we weren't born the same day, and he must have noticed that while he was talking I never once took my eyes off that cigarette smoldering there on the rug because he suddenly said he wanted his cigarette back, so I crouched down nice and easy and picked it up, and as I started putting the cigarette back in Iron Fist's hand I thought I should press the burning end right into his mouth, he was such a beast that he deserved it, and I knew he was about to make me apologize, but I decided not to if I could help it, not if I didn't need to, I would not apologize, and then Iron Fist snatched the cigarette from me and stuck it back in his mouth, and he took a big drag, except he didn't blow the smoke on me like he had at first but into the air. Then when he did speak again, he told me to get it through my head that we had to lose the competition because our school's team must not go on to the next round, and if one thing was for sure, it was that I mustn't say this to anyone, I shouldn't even know about this, and by telling me he'd put his head through the noose, and as he said this he poked at his neck with the hand that was holding the cigarette, almost getting ash all over himself, and then he said, but that didn't matter because now the noose was around my neck too, and I didn't need to know any more about this anyway, and he told me to get it through my head that no way should I shoot more than seventy points, for if I did so I'd put my school's future at risk because at the city finals it was School No. 3 that had to get through to the next round, and not our
team, so I should promise to do as he told me, that I'd shoot sixty points, or no more than seventy-five, and that was it.
While he was talking I kept looking into his eyes, but after a while he stopped looking at me, and my eyes also drifted away, back to those plastic models again, the ones there behind the glass. Two thick tubes stuck out of the top of the heart, one of them was painted blue and the other was painted red, and when Iron Fist got all quiet I looked at him again, straight into his eyes, and he asked me to promise, but right this instant, because we really did need to get going right away or else we'd be late for the competition. And then with one hand I grabbed the back of the chair, and I said, "No, I won't promise, no way, that wasn't what my dad taught me, sports are supposed to be fair, there's no room for cheating in sports, everyone who participates starts with an equal shot, it's only about how every single person performs," and I said I didn't care, he could go ahead and take me to the competition, but I was going to shoot as well as I could all the same, I'd give it my all, and while I was talking I got really scared from hearing my own voice, it was almost like it wasn't even me talking, and then my hand started really hurting from gripping the back of the chair so hard, and I knew I'd get slapped around in no time, I tried relaxing my mouth, but I was gritting my teeth so much that the pain shot right up into my temples, and I knew that this was it, that Iron Fist would beat my brains out, but not even then could I keep my mouth shut, no, try as I did to swallow my words, not even then could I stop talking. But Iron Fist didn't hit me, instead he just stubbed out his cigarette and put one of his index fingers in front of his mouth and hissed shhh, but that wasn't what made me shut up, it was when I saw him put his other hand in his pocket, because that meant he was about to pull out his brass knuckles, and that would be the end of me, I'd be lucky if I only ended up in the hospital, and in the meantime Iron Fist pulled his hand out, and he didn't have brass knuckles on it, instead he was holding something in his hand, I couldn't tell what it was, and then he held his fist right in front of me, he was wearing a really wide gold ring, I saw my own face reflected in it, and then he asked if I could guess what he had in his hand, but by then I was so scared that even if I figured it out, not even then would I have dared to say a word, that's how terrified I was, and so I only shook my head. Meanwhile I looked again at the heart behind the glass, and for some reason it occurred to me that cold blood flows from the heart through the blue tube and that hot blood flows through the red tube, but when I thought of that, I knew right away it was dumb.
And then Iron Fist said, fine, he could tell that I was giving up, I shouldn't rack my brains anymore because I'd get muscle fatigue doing that, and he opened his hand, and I saw right away what was on his palm, it was the valve of his motorcycle wheel, yes, that's what he was holding right there under my nose, and as soon as I saw it, I felt myself turn pale, I felt my body filling up with ice-cold blood, so cold that my skin would turn blue, and I felt almost as if my heart was about to stop altogether, that's how scared I was, and then Iron Fist said he knew everything about this little prank of ours, Feri had told him everything, that's right, Feri had more brains than I did, the day after our prank Feri realized it would be best to go ahead and fess up completely, because then maybe he could get out of this in one piece, yes, Feri was smart enough to realize that if Iron Fist figured out for himself who was responsible for his having to push his motorcycle up the hill he lived on, whoever it was would be a goner for sure, and then I thought of Feri, so that was why Feri had looked white as a ghost, and while Iron Fist went on talking, the whole time he held the valve right under my nose, and as his hand moved I could see that little ball moving in the valve, it was almost as big as an air-gun pellet, and then Iron Fist put the valve back in his pocket and turned his back to me as if he was looking out a window, and he stood there just like that as he said, "You know what you did, don't you. That wasn't just some school-kid prank, it was an act of sabotage, sabotage against the state." And he said that if he wanted he could not only kick me out of school but also see that I wound up in reform school, and the only reason I wouldn't end up in prison was because I was still under fifteen, "But don't you worry," he said, my mother was older, so I could rest assured that she'd wind up in a real prison and I'd never see her ever again, and then I thought I was about to cry, but I didn't want to cry if I could help it, so instead I only said, really quietly, "All right, I'll do it, I'll shoot as many points as you say, if need be, sixty, and if need be, forty, just like you want," and then I stood up and said we should go, that we should get it over with, and Iron Fist slapped me on the back and said, "Now that's talking," and then we left the science supply room and went all the way down the hall and down the stairs, and we went out the teachers' entrance, and the student monitor clicked his heels and saluted as he opened the door, but Iron Fist didn't return the gesture, and even I just barely raised my palm to my temple.
Comrade Principal let Iron Fist borrow his car, so we went in that, and Iron Fist let me sit up front, never in my life had I sat up front in a car, but I wasn't able to enjoy it, not now, because I kept thinking more and more about Feri, and Iron Fist kept smoking the whole way, and he didn't say a thing.
School No. 16, where they were holding the competition, wasn't far, so we got there fast, but before we got out of the car Iron Fist showed me the valve one more time, not that I was about to say anything if I could help it, and then we went into the school and out to the yard, which was decorated with pine boughs and panels of red felt with pictures and all sorts of quotations on them about the armed forces and about the nation's youth and about the Party General Secretary and about peace, and we got there just in time because the woman commander of the school's Young Pioneers was already greeting "all those assembled here today," she even gave a little speech, not that I paid much attention, no, I had my eyes on the firing positions. Judging from the blankets that had been laid out, it looked like we'd have to shoot lying down, but the targets hadn't been put out yet, and so I couldn't estimate the distance, and in the meantime the Young Pioneers commander was saying something about solidarity and peace, and then all of a sudden her speech ended and everyone saluted, and then we sang the national anthem, not only the first stanza and the last, as usual, but all the way through, I didn't even know the middle stanzas so well, they said something about some plows and, I think, some swords, but then that ended too, and then the school principal wished everyone much success, and then the competition really did begin.
First we drew lots for the weapons, all of us had to pull a number from out of a gas mask to decide which weapon we'd get to fire with and in which half, I pulled the number thirteen, but that didn't worry me because thirteen always brought me luck, besides, it now meant I'd be shooting in the second half with rifle number three. There were ten air rifles and ten ranges in all, and on purpose I didn't look to see how the person using rifle number three in the first half shot, although that would have given me an idea of how accurate that rifle was and which way it would take my hand, but I figured, what the hell, it didn't matter anyway, and so I didn't look there at all, no, instead I just walked around the yard and took a good look at the Corner of Peace, the word peace was written there in a whole bunch of languages, and it also said that the world's children wanted peace, and at the top were the pictures of the Party General Secretary and the commander in chief of the armed forces, and underneath there were pictures of war heroes and generals, and a couple of pictures of tanks and airplanes and of the armed forces' May Day parade, of all those tanks and mortars and missiles passing by the grandstand, the picture of the generals seemed strange, and when I took a better look, I noticed that it had been cut to pieces and taped back together again, which was pretty obvious because of how the wall behind the generals looked, and then it occurred to me that I knew this picture because it was in the appendix at the end of our fifth-grade textbook, but back then the picture still had seven generals on it, and now there were only five, meaning two
generals had disappeared from the picture, and it wasn't like I'd even heard anything about them being traitors, and in the meantime I saw that everyone had just about stood up already at their firing positions, which meant that they were done shooting and our round was coming right up, so I began moseying back there, and I noticed the teachers standing around and chatting away by the school entrance, Iron Fist was there too, he was still smoking, and he must have sensed it when I looked that way because he turned toward me and gave a smile and a wave of the hand, with the same hand that was holding the cigarette, and the whole time his other hand was in his pocket, and I knew he was holding the valve, and then all of a sudden I felt this heat surge through me, and as I stood there someone behind me said, "Horáciú," and I got really scared, but I turned around all the same and saw that it was the woman commander of the Young Pioneers, and when I noticed that she was reading my name from a sheet of paper I calmed down a bit because I figured she didn't know the real Horáciú, and so it wouldn't turn out that I wasn't really him, so I said, "Yes, that's me," and then she asked me what I'd been looking at in the Corner of Peace, and I said, "Nothing, Comrade Commander, it's just that before competitions I always look at the picture of the commander in chief of the armed forces, to bring me luck, I mean, because he's my role model," and then the commander of the Young Pioneers nodded and said, "It's just such patriotic thoughts that take the country forward on the path of peace," and then she jotted something down on a notepad and wished me much success, and I went over to my firing position and got down on the blanket.
One of the competition officials quickly handed out the three practice pellets because by then the practice targets had been set up, and I took the rifle, it was Czechoslovak, sure enough, but in really good condition, it was really easy to close, and on purpose I didn't aim for the center of the target but for the white line between the circles worth five points and six points, and as I squeezed the butt of the rifle to my shoulder, the rifle's weight was enough to calm me down, and when I aimed I didn't even need to pay attention to my breathing because everything just took care of itself, I fired the shot right when I exhaled, and when the competition officials then handed out the twelve competition pellets and gave us the practice targets to look at, I saw that every one of my shots really had gone right where I'd aimed it, so I knew I really could shoot a perfect score if I wanted, and then the other competition official set up the official targets, and I was really surprised because never before had I seen any like them, they were much bigger than plain targets, and each one looked like a human torso, and you had to aim for the left side, where the heart is, and I thought of the plastic model of the heart behind the glass, and it seemed to me that the bull's-eye, all ten points, was right between the two arteries, between the red and the blue blood vessels, and as I then took aim, somehow all I saw before me was that plastic model, and it did no good trying to aim at the circle worth six points because all I saw were those two holes, the red hole and the blue hole, and somehow it seemed like those two holes were Iron Fist's eyes, and then as I pulled the trigger for the first time, I knew the pellet would go there, right between Iron Fist's eyes, and that if I was in the Wild West, he'd drop dead just like that, and then I could also make out the tiny black hole in the middle of the bull's-eye, it looked only as big as a pinprick from where I was, but I shot there a second time, right into the circle worth ten points, and a third time and a fourth too, and even without looking at the target I knew that my every shot was there inside the bull's-eye, all ten points each time, and at the end I looked at the target, after all, and I saw that they really were all there, right beside one another, I'd shot 120 points, or 119, and as I set down the rifle I knew that meant big trouble, and I thought of the generals and I thought that Mother and I would now also disappear, and I would be removed from our class picture.