Tomorrow Pamplona

by Jan Van Mersbergen

  Did you really think it was going to work?

  Yes.

  All the way home?

  So what the hell am I supposed to do? He taps his thumb on the wheel.

  A cat slinks behind the car, a ginger one with white patches. It moves silently past the wheels, crosses the pavement and walks along the wall. Then it sits on a step in front of a door with a roll-down shutter and licks its paws before continuing on its way. Danny watches as it disappears behind the building by the water.

  I can drive, he says.

  They look at each other, Robert’s eyes small, pensive, blinking; Danny squinting in the sun. Robert leans back, tilts his head.

  You don’t have to do that.

  But I can.

  Robert shakes his head. I’d rather go back on the train, he says. He rests his hands on the top of the wheel.

  I’ll drive, says Danny.

  Are you sure?

  Do I have to ask a hundred times?

  He waits. Robert stares through the windscreen.

  Tell you what, says Danny. I’ll go over there for a quick piss and when I get back, you can tell me what you want to do.

  He walks over to the edge of the water and unzips his jeans. The water ripples gently beneath him. He looks around for the cat, but it’s vanished. When he gets back to the car, Robert’s still sitting in the driver’s seat. Danny leans against the door.

  Why did you just stand there? Robert asks quietly.

  Danny doesn’t answer.

  You just going to keep quiet? Like you always do? He runs his hand through his hair. Did you think I’d let you just stand there with those bulls coming?

  Yes.

  You were wrong.

  Danny puts his foot up on the front wheel. I never asked you for anything.

  You think I asked for this? Robert places both hands on his thighs, rubs them on his jeans. You’re not going to tell me, are you?

  Danny pushes the tyre with his foot and the car rocks. No, I’d rather not.

  Then you’d better go.

  What about you?

  I’ll think of something.

  Danny rests his forearms on his knee. The sole of his shoe squeaks on the tyre. What about the car?

  I’ll get someone to pick it up.

  I’m going to drive you home.

  This time he says it in a tone that Robert can’t argue with. He just says: Fine. He tries to get out of the car, but he can’t manage by himself. Danny helps him into the wheelchair, pushes him around the car and parks him next to the tree. I’ll get the car out onto the road first, he says. He walks back around the car, climbs in, starts the engine and manoeuvres the car onto the road. Then he gets out and helps Robert into the passenger seat. Danny folds up the wheelchair, lifts it into the boot, puts the rucksack on the back seat and gets into the driver’s seat.

  Robert says: Could you get a clean shirt out for me?

  Danny takes a T-shirt from one of the plastic bags. He passes it to Robert.

  Not that one.

  Something wrong with it?

  Not a white one. There’s another one in there.

  Danny finds a green T-shirt at the bottom of the bag. Robert takes off his dirty shirt, tosses it into the back of the car and puts on the clean one. They sit there for a moment, looking at the river, the cathedral and the red roofs. Danny says a silent farewell to Pamplona.

  He reaches for the lever under the seat and pushes it back. Then he starts the car and returns to the main road. He takes the turn for the bridge and heads to the hospital, drives into the car park and stops at the main entrance. While Robert waits, he takes the wheelchair from the boot, unfolds it and pushes it through the sliding doors and into the lobby. I’ll just leave it here, he says to the receptionist.

  Don’t you need it? she asks. You’re welcome to borrow it.

  No, thanks. It’s okay.

  He drives west along the river. The sun is up high above the hills. The route they followed down to the river that morning winds up the slope on the opposite bank in the blazing sunshine.

  *

  She was on her elbows, her head on the pillow, her buttocks in the air. With every thrust, she moaned, rhythmically, powerfully. He put his hands on her hips, held her in place, and gave it to her. She pressed her face into the pillow. He watched her dark hair swishing from side to side. He heard her muffled moans rising up from the pillow, slowly becoming a pleading repetition of his name. Danny, Danny, Danny. He tensed the muscles in his abdomen and felt himself drain empty.

  Later she said: Know what? You’re a real boxer, you are.

  How do you recognize a real boxer?

  She put her hand on his crotch, squeezed his balls.

  He laughed.

  She got up, walked over to the chair and took her cigarettes from her trousers. Standing there naked and small in his attic room, she lit a cigarette and looked over at the window. It was getting light in the east. She took a drag on her cigarette and said: Believe me, I know how to recognize a real boxer.

  So do you fuck all of your boxers?

  She walked around the bed, took another drag on her cigarette. No, not all of them.

  Silly cow, he said. He picked up the pillow and threw it at her. She held the cigarette close to her body.

  Hey, watch out, she said.

  He picked up another pillow, waved it in the air and grinned at her. He said: I’m going to knock that fag clean out of your paws.

  Cut it out.

  I will if you will.

  Ragna smiled. I only fuck real boxers, she said.

  Yeah? Well, I’m the only real boxer around here.

  Right, Ragna said slowly. I’ve seen the photos for Leipzig. For the poster. Now those guys look like real boxers.

  Who?

  The ones from Leipzig.

  Was Ramos on the poster?

  Yes.

  So you think he’s a real boxer?

  She sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him, and said: Yeah. A very real one.

  What do you mean?

  You know, just saying.

  He grabbed hold of her shoulders and pulled her towards him. Then he pushed her down onto the mattress and nuzzled into her neck, giving it a nip. She yelped. He slipped his hands under her armpits and picked her up. I’ll show you a real boxer, he said.

  5

  They’re driving along a three-lane toll road, passing through rolling, ochre-coloured countryside. American music is playing on the radio – Danny’s found a different station. He stays in the right-hand lane. Occasionally, other cars overtake them, quickly disappearing into the distance. His hands rest loosely on the bottom of the steering wheel. The sun is on his side of the car. The road turns and the sun turns with it. Now it’s shining in his eyes. He pulls down the sunshade. Robert’s slumped beside him. His paunch looks bigger, but his tic appears to have calmed down.

  Where did you put that bottle of water?

  In the bag, I think.

  Where’s the bag?

  Back seat.

  Robert turns around and looks over his shoulder at the back seat. Damn it, he says.

  Want me to stop?

  Stop somewhere later.

  She asked me to let her know what’s going on.

  What did you say?

  That I would.

  Robert rubs his neck and quietly clears his throat.

  You can call her when I stop somewhere, Danny says.

  How am I going to get to a phone?

  I’ll help you.

  It’d be easier if you just gave her a quick call.

  She’s your wife.

  You’re the one who promised to call.

  Robert’s sitting at an angle, his leg jammed awkwardly beneath the dashboard.

  First let’s find somewhere to stop, says Danny.

  As they approach a petrol station, Danny points at the sign. Robert says: No, let’s stop at the next one.

  Thought you were thirsty.

  For a l
ong time, the hum of the engine and Robert’s heavy breathing are the only sounds inside the car. They roll northwards, kilometre after kilometre. They pass close to a city and go through a cloverleaf interchange, then under several flyovers. Now and then, Robert swears and rubs his thigh. Danny holds on tight to the steering wheel. His thumbs point to the sky. A lorry with a huge double trailer loaded with concrete sewer pipes overtakes them. They can feel the suction as it passes. Danny turns the wheel to compensate.

  Do you think she’s angry?

  I don’t know.

  Robert stares at the tarmac. He shifts to the middle of the seat, slides one hand under his leg and supports the plaster. A blue Mercedes with a German number plate flies past. When it’s just a dot in the distance, Robert says: Well, she’s not exactly going to be happy about it, is she?

  *

  The air in the zoo’s nocturnal house was humid. The voices of schoolchildren rang along the dark hallway where the enclosures lay behind low barriers. They stopped at one of the enclosures. He pointed out the crocodile to her. It was a spectacled caiman, lying with its tail in the sand and its body in the water, with its nose up close to the glass. A little one, he said. Ragna put her hand on his back and hooked her finger through one of his belt loops.

  Beside him, a group of five boys pushed against the barrier.

  Go on, touch it, said one of the boys. The other boys laughed.

  I can’t reach, another boy replied.

  He’s too scared.

  I’m not. I just can’t reach.

  One of the other boys looked at Danny. What about you? he said. You could reach.

  Do I look like I’m crazy?

  But it’s asleep.

  Yeah, right.

  You can see it’s asleep.

  Ragna pinched him.

  Fine, said Danny. More children came over. Danny rolled up his sleeves.

  Are you lot certain it’s asleep?

  Sure.

  I’ll give it a go then.

  He’s going to do it, Sam. You’ve got to see this.

  Two girls who’d just joined them squealed with excitement. He’s going to do it. He’s going to do it!

  The boy called Sam said: Told you so. His hair was in cornrows. He had light brown skin and was wearing a baseball shirt. He smiled at Danny and said: I knew you’d do it.

  The other boys nodded.

  Danny leant over the barrier, a sheet of glass with a metal railing. There was a ridge of Plexiglas around the bottom and warning stickers all over the enclosure showing pictures of a mouth with sharp teeth.

  Are you absolutely certain it’s asleep?

  The boys whooped. One of the boys shouted: Yeah, of course. It’s hibernating.

  Okay then.

  Danny bent forwards, his stomach on the railing, and slowly lowered his arm. The crocodile didn’t move. Danny wiggled his fingers. He glanced at Ragna. She prodded him. Go on, she said.

  So Danny did. He hesitated as he touched the water. The crocodile seemed to be looking at him. Then he scooped up a handful of water and yelled as he splashed it over the children. They scattered. The girls at the front screamed. A blond boy tripped over one of the pillars that were designed to look like mounds of mud or jungle trees. When the children realized what had happened, they laughed and came back to stand beside Danny.

  That was a good one, said Sam.

  Yeah, I thought so.

  Ragna smiled at him and put her arm back around his waist. They walked past the other dark enclosures to the exit. He bought two drinks at the kiosk outside and the two of them sat down and leant against the glass of the hippopotamus enclosure. The hippo was nowhere to be seen and there was no water in its pen.

  Nice kids, said Danny.

  Yes.

  Especially that mixed-race boy. Danny pinched her leg.

  Cut it out, Danny, she said.

  You could try sounding a bit more enthusiastic.

  What do you mean?

  Well, you know. I mentioned the mixed-race kid for a reason.

  Ragna took a swallow of her drink and felt the bubbles in her stomach.

  *

  Danny sees the service station. He points the car at the exit lane and leaves the motorway. He drives around the curves, past the petrol pumps and parks just beyond the building. The radio’s silent. He can’t see a telephone by the shop. Hang on, he says. He gets out and walks around the back, where he finds a payphone on the wall beneath a little plastic shelter. When he gets back to the car, he says: There’s a payphone back there.

  Robert points at his leg.

  Come on, says Danny. He takes hold of Robert’s arm and helps him out of the car. Robert doesn’t cooperate. His body feels heavy. Once he’s out, he stands beside the car, putting his weight on his good leg. Danny helps him to the telephone. There’s a litter bin beside the building. Danny pushes it over to the telephone and Robert sits on the lid.

  Got any change?

  Yes.

  Robert digs some coins out of his pocket. Could you get that bottle first?

  Danny fetches the bag from the back seat, walks back to the telephone, takes the bottle out of the bag, unscrews the top and passes it to Robert. He takes a few big gulps.

  I’ll just go and get some petrol, Danny says when Robert hands back the bottle. He walks back to the car, drives over to one of the pumps and fills it up. Then he parks up and goes over to look at the newspapers in the rack outside the shop. All French. He walks around the back of the building and watches Robert talking on the phone, his eyes half-closed. He heads inside the shop and wanders past the shelves. When he hears Robert calling him, he walks back to the telephone.

  Everything okay?

  Yes.

  What did she say?

  Take me back to the car first.

  Danny puts his arm around Robert’s shoulders. Robert hops to the car. He settles into his seat and Danny hands him the bottle.

  Have you paid?

  No.

  Robert gives him some money. Danny goes inside to pay, comes back, starts the car in silence and drives to the exit.

  She was furious, says Robert. Holding his cast with both hands, he slides across the seat. Danny grips the steering wheel really hard. His knuckles are white.

  But she’s glad I’m coming back.

  Danny wants to ask what else she said. But he keeps quiet, cranks up the speed and stays in the left-hand lane for a long time. There are no other cars in the rear-view mirror.

  *

  The saucer that she used as an ashtray was on the wooden floor beside the bed. He watched the smoke as she blew it out. He stroked her neck and she tipped her head back.

  His body was tired from the evening training session. His legs lay leaden on the mattress. Even though his head felt so light, the arm supporting it still tingled. He moved his arm and rested his head on the pillow. If he closed his eyes, he’d be asleep within a couple of seconds. He kept looking at her.

  She took one last drag and stubbed out her cigarette. She picked up the lighter from the floor and ran it through her fingers, spun the wheel. He slid one hand under her stomach, which felt soft.

  I’m going back to Thailand, she suddenly announced.

  Danny didn’t say anything.

  For a few months.

  That long? When?

  Soon, she said. I’m going to visit some people.

  She took a fresh cigarette from the packet and tapped it on her temple.

  Yeah, I’m free to go. I can visit whoever I like.

  You are coming back, aren’t you?

  Of course.

  The beams and shadows on the ceiling formed a web, with them at the centre, just him and her. He found it hard to imagine suddenly being alone again.

  Really?

  Don’t worry.

  He watched her as she played with her cigarette. Don’t worry, she’d said. He thought about that. Then he said: If you don’t come back, I’m coming to get you.

  I’ll
hold you to that.

  She turned onto her side and put the cigarette down on the bed, with the lighter beside it.

  When exactly are you going?

  Two weeks’ time.

  I’ll take you to the airport.

  Are we walking?

  We’ll get a taxi.

  Ragna thought about it. No, I’ll take the train.

  Then we’ll take the train together. I want to see you off.

  She nodded.

  How long’s the flight?

  About ten hours.

  They won’t let you smoke, will they?

  I was planning to give it up anyway, she said. She lit her cigarette, placed the lighter beside the saucer and blew a thin column of smoke towards the ceiling. He looked at her face. He kissed her neck, slid the sheet aside and kissed the small of her back. She pressed her face into the pillow. He stroked her back, her shoulders. Pressed his cheek against her shoulder blade. Her scent was stronger than the smell of the cigarette. He growled and Ragna made small sounds that were buried in the pillow. Then he pulled her pants down and she turned over.

  What’s wrong?

  I don’t know.

  He lay beside her.

  You’re going to have problems on that plane if they don’t let you smoke.

  I told you, she said, I’m giving it up. Her hand with the cigarette hovered above the floor. Some ash fell, missing the saucer.

  *

  The road rises slowly and the horizon stretches away into the distance. They crawl towards the horizon, crest the hill and see a new horizon in front of them, even more distant than the previous one. As they drive down the other side, Danny asks: Are you going next year?

  Robert looks over at him. Why do you ask?

  Or won’t she let you?

  Robert thinks. I didn’t even see that bull, he says.

  Which bull?

  The one that hit me. I didn’t see one single bull. It’s the first year I haven’t seen a single bull.

  So you want to go back next year to see another bull.

  Maybe.

  Danny moves his hand to the bottom of the steering wheel, wraps his thumb around it and says: It was brown.

  Brown?