“Allow me.” He took me by the shoulders and set me under the candelabrum by the door. He shook out the towel, tucked it into my shirt collar, and spread it out so it covered my entire chest. Then he took the little dish and brush and with brisk movements began whipping the soap into a foam.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he said as he started daubing the white foam on my face. “I pray that I may?”
“Of course.”
He leaned toward me confidentially. “Whenever I get the chance, I stand in front of their door when we’re in a tunnel and I eavesdrop.”
He stepped back, inspected me, removed a bit a foam from under my nose with his finger and wiped it on the towel.
“I can’t hear all that well, but it’s enough. I get goose bumps every time. Her voice is angelic, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s divine.”
“Listening through the door has its advantages. You don’t see who’s singing and it’s easy to imagine that it really is her inside. Even though I know it isn’t, unfortunately . . . ”
He brought the hand with the brush to his mouth and bit the knuckle of his index finger. He stood there like that without moving, looking through me with sorrowful eyes.
“Forgive me,” he said, snapping out of his trance.
“Think nothing of it.”
“It’s hard, you know . . . ”
“I know.”
“But life goes on. What’s to be done?”
He set the dish and brush on the table. He unbuttoned the upper part of his uniform, then took off his belt. He handed me the end with the buckle.
“Hold onto it firmly, please.”
He grabbed hold of the other end of the belt and stepped back to the window, tightening it. Then he took the razor from the table, opened it, and started to draw the flat side over the belt, stropping the blade first on one side and then on the other.
“There’s only one thing I don’t like about the monks.”
“Oh, and what is that?”
“That ruse about choosing black or white chess pieces. Yes, that’s what it is. I won’t shrink at all from calling a spade a spade. A ruse. They know it’s dishonest, but they resort to it just the same. You’re lucky you didn’t play a match.”
“How do you know I didn’t?”
“It would be quite obvious if you had. Your head would be shaved, just like theirs.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t they tell you? They’ve really become deceitful. That’s the bet. That’s what you play for.”
“What if I’d won? What would be my prize? They don’t have anything to shave.”
“They would have to let their hair grow, and that would be much harder for them than it would be for you to have your head shaved. You hair would grow back, while they would no longer have the right to cut their hair. But they were in no danger of losing. They are true masters at backwards chess. They’ve only lost once so far. She beat them.”
“She? But they told me she didn’t play at all.”
“They told you that? Liars! They’re trying to cover their shame. She not only beat them, she completely outplayed them.”
He looked left and right down the corridor, then drew close to me, loosening the belt. “Why do you think the brother who sings has his hood on?” he asked in a low voice.
“I have no idea.”
“So you can’t see his hair,” he continued in a whisper. “It’s all grown out. But he won’t be able to use his hood much longer. When his hair grows a bit longer he won’t be able to hide it. We’ll just see what they do then.”
He laid the razor on the table, put on his belt, and buttoned his uniform. Then he took up the razor once again and started to shave me. His movements were light and skillful. I barely felt the touch of the blade.
He finished the left side of my face before speaking again.
“Ha, if I could only tell you what I know about the horned egg. Then none of it would look quite so idyllic. But I mustn’t. I’m sure you wouldn’t give me away, but that’s not the point. I don’t want to get either one of us into trouble. And it’s far from minor, believe me. You have to treat the horned egg with cautious respect. Many have paid a high price for being caught off-guard. You don’t want to come to unnecessary harm, do you?”
As he was then shaving around my mouth, I couldn’t take the risk of talking. I just mumbled something vague through closed lips.
“It’s a real joy to deal with a sensible man,” he continued.“That is a rare virtue nowadays. People generally act foolishly, even when I warn them about what’s awaiting them. Curiosity blinds them completely. As if the world will go to ruin unless they know what’s concealed behind the horned egg. They regret it afterwards, of course, but then it’s too late.”
He took a step backwards and began to inspect me. He nodded his head, then removed the towel and wiped my face with it. He placed the towel on the table, picked up the mirror and handed it to me.
“What do you say?”
I looked at myself.
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. We couldn’t have left that out. You can’t go any further unless you’re freshly shaved.”
He went up to the door of the third compartment, adjusted his tie a bit, then knocked. He didn’t employ a normal knock. First he knocked three times quickly, then two times slowly, then three times quickly again.
There was no immediate reply. The conductor turned briefly towards me and smiled in apology. Finally there came a from the compartment: three slow knocks, two fast, then three slow.
The conductor nodded with satisfaction and opened the door. He pushed the curtain halfway open and indicated with his other hand that I was to go inside.
I went in and the door quickly closed behind me.
There were only two passengers in the compartment. A painter was sitting next to the covered window on the left with an easel that held a square canvas. He had a broad beret, a red scarf around his neck, and blue overalls smeared with paint here and there. His right hand held a wooden palette and his left hand a brush. He was wearing glasses with a round frame and opaque black lenses. An unlit pipe with a curved stem hung from his mouth.
A dwarf was lying on the middle seat opposite. He was wearing a turquoise leotard and pink ballet shoes. His body was very muscular, which made him asymmetrical. His legs were raised in the air and his feet supported a large purple ball.
“Undress,” said the painter to me, not turning his head in my direction.
“Excuse me?” I asked in amazement.
“Undress, undress,” repeated the dwarf.
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“How do you suppose I am to paint you if you don’t undress?”
“Yes,” said the dwarf like an echo, “how do you suppose, how do you suppose?”
“I don’t suppose at all,” I replied angrily.
“Then why did you come?”
“Yes, why, why?”
“I thought that . . . ” I said, turning briefly towards the door. I wanted to mention the conductor, but couldn’t find the right words.
“So now what?”
“What, what?”
“Maybe the best thing would be for me to leave?”
“Leave? Out of the question. Every person who enters here must be in the picture. You certainly must realize that.”
“Certainly, certainly.”
“I didn’t know . . . ”
“So you won’t undress?”
“Won’t, won’t?”
“I won’t.”
“How about part way?”
“Part way, part way?”
I shook my head.
“Just your pants?”
“Pants, pants?”
I shook my head even harder.
“All right, then at least your tie.”
“At least, at least?”
“Is it really necessary?” I asked after hesitating briefly.
<
br /> “Extremely necessary. How can I paint you properly if you won’t take your clothes off in front of me? If I don’t see your soul? I am a painter of the soul, not the routine exterior.”
“Routine, routine.”
“I think I could take off my tie,” I said, falteringly.
“Wonderful! We’ll try to make up for the rest with questions.”
“Questions, questions!”
“Questions?” I repeated like the echo of an echo, barely stopping myself from saying it twice.
“Yes. I will ask you six questions so that I can discern some of your particulars. They are of a rather personal nature, but this cannot be helped. The questions would not be needed, of course, if you undressed, but since you don’t want to . . . ”
“Don’t want, don’t want . . . ”
I started to loosen the knot on my tie. “Can this not be helped either?”
“What?”
“What, what?”
“This.” I nodded towards the dwarf, although the painter was not looking in my direction, and even if he had it would have been hard to see anything through his blind man’s glasses. “This repetition of your words.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Bother, bother?”
“It grates on my nerves.”
The painter laid his brush on the little shelf at the bottom of the easel, then cracked his knuckles. The dwarf immediately started turning the ball with his feet. He did it very skillfully. The ball spun quickly in place.
“He hasn’t always been like that. Oh, no. If you’d only had the chance to hear him before. It was a real pleasure to listen to him.
Such eloquence, such oratorical skill! It’s hard to believe that now, wouldn’t you say?”
“It isn’t easy,” I agreed.
“And the things he used to talk about! The quintessence of wisdom! Pure philosophy, indeed! For me it was the ultimate inspiration. He would talk so magnificently about the wooden dummy, and I transformed his words immediately into paintings. Into a whole cycle of paintings. My life’s achievement. But I didn’t finish it. I was just about to start my last canvas, in which the wooden dummy would finally be unveiled, when she appeared. And she showed her true face at once. She punished him without mercy. And do you know why?”
“No.”
“Because of the ball!”
“Because of the ball?”
“Yes, because of the ball. This stupid, cheap, paltry ball!”
“Outrageous!”
“She wanted to take it away from him, but he, of course, couldn’t give it to her. He was completely unable to think without it. She, of course, had no use for it. But since she couldn’t get her hands on it, she took her revenge. You’ll never guess what she did.”
“I can’t.”
“She started to undress.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“Yes. The poor thing writhed and twisted, whined and groaned, but this didn’t move her in the least. She continued heedlessly to the end. When she was finally in her birthday suit, he clearly couldn’t bear it. He let out a terrible cry, then fell into this state. And she just laughed maliciously, put on her clothes and left. She didn’t even take the ball, even though he could no longer prevent her from doing so.”
“How cruel!”
“More than that. Brutal. But she’ll pay for it. Even if I’m not able to complete the cycle about the wooden dummy, I can paint her. Completely nude, so everyone can see what her soul is really like.”
“No one could hold that against you.”
“I’ll paint her for sure. But let’s forget that right now. Are you ready for the six questions?”
I deliberated a bit. “I think I am.”
“Very good. So, shall we begin?”
“All right.”
“Do you like to trample on young wild strawberries?”
“No, I don’t.”
“I see. And have you ever dreamed of snails swimming upstream?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Aha! Did you ever sneak snowballs into matinee shows at the cinema?”
“No.”
“You didn’t? And did you ever wonder how many stairs there are in the world?”
“No.”
“Interesting. Did you ever want to be a spyglass, perhaps?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Not even one single time?”
“Not a single time.”
“As you like. Here is the question. Did you ever make a phone call standing on one leg?”
“Never.”
“Wonderful. You can put your tie back on. Your pose is over.”
“And that’s it?” I asked as I knotted my tie.
“Yes.”
“You will paint me solely on the basis of those answers?”
“To someone who is perceptive they say a lot about you. Of course, it would be better if you’d agree to undress. you care to change your mind, perhaps?”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Fine, if there’s nothing to be done, then we’re finished. Please excuse me now. Soon there will be a tunnel, and I only paint when we’re in one.”
He cracked his knuckles. The ball stopped spinning at once. As supple as a spring, the dwarf jumped from his reclining position onto the floor. His feet touched the carpet runner the same moment the ball fell on his now empty seat. He bowed deeply to me and went to the door. First he put his ear against it, then after he heard something that I didn’t, he knocked: three fast, two slow, three fast.
The response came from the other side without a moment’s delay: three slow, two fast, three slow. The dwarf grinned from ear to ear, then opened the door theatrically and drew the curtain.
As I went out, I first heard “Good luck!” and right after it came the echo, “Good luck! Good luck!” I turned to offer my own greetings, but the conductor closed the door before I had a chance.
He was now wearing a white coat over his uniform, with several chrome instruments poking out of the breast pocket. He pointed to the right of the door and said, “Please sit down.”
A dentist’s chair with its accompanying paraphernalia was there. I regarded it hesitantly.
“Just a routine checkup. You have no reason to worry. Make yourself comfortable, it will soon be over.”
I sat down in the chair reluctantly. I squinted when he turned on the large round light, which brightly illuminated my head.
“Open your mouth, please.”
After a brief hesitation I complied.
“A little bit wider, if you please. That’s it.”
He took a dental mirror out of his pocket, brought his face up close to mine, and started to inspect the inner surface of my jaw.
“He’s a wonderful painter,” he said. “If you’d only had a chance to see his cycle on the wooden dummy.”
He grabbed me by the chin and pulled down a bit. My mouth was now yawning.
“But of course, that is no longer possible. He destroyed it. He told you, didn’t he?”
I shook my head faintly, uttering a gurgling sound.
“He didn’t? I see. I should have suspected as much. Then he must have told you that she is to blame for everything?”
I nodded my head, this time refraining from making any noise.
“Of course. The easiest thing is to point the finger elsewhere.”
He returned the mirror to his pocket, then took out a dental probe and started using it on my lower left molars. I jumped when I suddenly felt pain.
“Everything is fine. The enamel is a bit worn, though. You should take more vitamins and eat fresh fruit, particularly pineapple and kiwi.”
I tried to say something, but it was quite incomprehensible once again.
“As though the truth can be hidden. I’ll tell you what really happened.” His brow suddenly wrinkled. He stepped back a bit.
“You’ve got a bit of tartar here. We’ll remove it right away so it doesn’t put pressure on your gums.
Periodontal disease can quickly get the upper hand. You won’t feel a thing.”
In place of the probe he took up an instrument that resembled a miniature sword with a disproportionately long handle and started to scrape off the tartar.
“He had an argument with the dwarf, that’s what happened. They have a strange kind of relationship, if you get my drift. But let’s set that aside. In any case, after the argument the dwarf wouldn’t tell him about the wooden dummy anymore. To spite him, the painter burned all his paintings. Down to the last one. He almost set the place on fire.”
He took the sword out of my mouth. “Rinse, please.” He indicated a ceramic glass half filled with water.
I closed my mouth with relief. It felt completely unhinged. I sipped a bit of water and sloshed it about, then spat into the drain on my left.
“When he saw the incinerated paintings, the dwarf fell into a stupor. He still hasn’t recovered, and I’m not sure he ever will. She arrived when it was already all over. She tried to help. She gave the dwarf the ball and this revived him somewhat. And just see how the painter returns her favor. He spreads loathsome lies about her. Did he by any chance tell you that she took off her clothes?”
I verified this with a nod, not wanting to open my mouth just yet.
The conductor sighed deeply. “It’s simply appalling how ungrateful people can be. And not just anyone, but artists! That’s what is so devastating.”
He put the instrument on the tray next to the chair, then handed me a napkin.
“You should go to the dentist more often,” he said as I wiped my mouth. “Your teeth are in good shape, but at your age you need monthly checkups.”
“Most certainly,” I agreed.
“All right, we may now proceed.” He waited for me to get up, then took off the white coat and threw it over the back of the chair. He rubbed his hands together and headed for the next door.
Since it wasn’t closed, he just drew the curtain aside and motioned to me to go in.
When I entered the compartment, four tall girls sitting in the corner seats jumped to their feet. They were wearing camouflage uniforms and dark yellow helmets covered with netting, decorated with leafy twigs. The legs of their loose pants were rolled up to the middle of the calf, and their feet were in basins full of water.
“Salute!” rang out from the left-hand corner next to the window (whose curtain was drawn).
Impossible Stories II Page 3