Four Sonyas

by Paral, VladimIr

  He didn’t even tell me when he would come back to knock for me, whether it would be just a minute again, like yesterday at the Hubertus — or actually the day before yesterday, like a hundred years ago … I left the door of my room open a crack, he wouldn’t even have to knock.

  I took great care combing my hair, and since Manek still hadn’t come (and so that I would be fresh for him), I lay down on my back and gazed at myself in the tilted mirror. In a little while the man who loves me will come for me.

  “What’s he like? Tender, understanding, kind, wise, cheerful, dreamy, sad, gentle, refined, clever, cultivated — he is something out of a fairy tale. A man who has seen Mount Everest and a prince who has taken me away—

  I looked at myself in the mirror after that long day which meant more than all the nineteen years before it. Suddenly I looked like a grown woman — I looked at myself in the mirror and my skin glowed softly with excitement.

  I woke up in the morning. Manek had not come for me during the night.

  I was sorry somehow and at the same time I was burning with gratitude … He had promised me security and he had given it to me.

  A rough happiness flooded over me, I took a bath and a shower until there was a knock on the door, the waiter was back with a marvelous breakfast, a tea rose from Manek and a letter with a hundred crowns and a note:

  I would like to have lunch with you in the hotel dining room at 1:00 P.M.

  Your Manek

  But why should I wait for you till lunchtime, darling, I want to have breakfast with you and be with you all day long, to make you happy, to help you, and to serve … When I take money from you, that is my job here and my vocation!

  And so I had breakfast and went for a walk, this time in the opposite direction, this city is beautiful all over, beneath a gigantic poster for the film Angelica, which we’d seen the day before (a princess in a coach gives her lace-sleeved hand to be kissed by King Louis on a white horse, in the background the red glow of battle) a sign called out POSITIONS AVAILABLE, in this city there are a thousand positions for anyone who’s not afraid of work, I’m not afraid of it and I’m used to it, Hiring a large number of saleswomen, earn 900 to 1300 — is it really possible, so much money just to stand around in a beautiful store, where I’d be happy to stand around for nothing … we train unskilled workers, that’s marvelous! 30 shop assistants, earn 1100-1500 crowns and two days off a week, that can hardly be possible, Looking for bus and streetcar drivers, lodgings for singles, Looking for a woman to take care of a child. Good pay — I want to be here in this city and this is where I’ll stay.

  At the top of the street that climbs past the Hotel Imperial was the gray railway station, and written on it was the word LIBEREC. So it is in Liberec that I shall live.

  I still had a great deal of time left, I went into the station, looked at the timetable, and found the train to Hrusov, it leaves early in the morning, at noon, and at night, it’s just nine crowns and I have a whole hundred, how quick and easy it would be to go back home … But for me home is a place I still have to find. I would like it to be here.

  In a small quiet shop run by an old lady, I bought a lovely green nightgown, a pale blue handkerchief for my husband and, with my last crown, a needle and white thread — at home I would sew the flounces back on my white dress, to make my husband happy … And no longer is this merely my job here and my vocation, MANEK, I LOVE YOU—

  And I will stay here with you as your wife — I was moved until I almost broke into tears, but still happy as never before, and so I ran quickly into the Imperial so that I could begin sewing my white dress, this time it must be the third time I am getting ready for my wedding—

  “Sonya!” someone called to me from in front of the hotel. On the sidewalk stood Jakub Jagr, and his rosy skin was almost white.

  “Sonya, I love you and I have come for you.”

  “But I love someone else and I want to stay here!”

  “I have come for you and I am going to take you home right away. Get in—” and he opened the door of a blue van.

  “I won’t go anywhere!” I cried.

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. Snap to it!” shouted an unknown man with a short crewcut, and he turned quickly toward me and grasped me tightly by the elbow.

  “Let me go, or I’ll call for help!”

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. Get in!” the gentleman with the crewcut commanded, and he pushed me toward the car.

  “Now not even holy water will help you,” an old lady, who evidently belonged to the gentleman and to Jakub, grabbed me by my other elbow and shoved me toward the door.

  I shouted, kicked, and scratched with my nails, the three of them surrounded me, dragged me to the back door of the van, and crammed me in as if I were a cow. When they tied my arms and legs with laundry cord, I began to scream, and then Jakub covered my face with a kerchief that smelled sweet and heavy, like something from a hospital … and then suddenly I lost consciousness.

  BOOK TWO

  SONYA UNDER REMOTE CONTROL

  The blue van with license number UL-30-85 arrived late in the afternoon in a northern suburb of Usti nad Labem and came to a stop in Valley Street near the blue fence of No. 4.

  “Gate!” the man beside the driver commanded, and the driver ran out to open both sides of the low, blue gate and then the garage doors. Mr. Jakub Jagr then sat down again behind the wheel and drove into the garage.

  “So what is it now!” shouted Staff Sergeant Jagr, Retired, while Jakub and Mother Jagr remained seated rigidly, in the parked car. “Get out! Take her inside!”

  Jakub walked around the car, carefully opened the back door, and said in a cajoling voice: “Sonya… Sonya… Get out, we’re home now. Sonya…” Still bound, Sonya Cechova rolled over on her side and employed all the strength in her legs to kick Jakub in the groin.

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. Keep calm and level-headed. Mother! Jakub! Both of you help me — Jakub!!” the staff sergeant barked at his son, who was leaning against the gate doubled over in intense pain. “You aren’t exactly seriously wounded—ha! Ha! Grab her by the legs. Mother and I will take her arms. Hey-rup! March!”

  To the lively commands of the high-spirited staff sergeant, the three Jagrs carried Sonya to the kitchen, where Zlatunka Jagrova was grinning.

  “Lower away! Clean and scrub her!” the sergeant commanded his wife and daughter. “If you need any help, we’ll be right outside the door! Hmm!”

  “I can manage her—” Zlatunka grinned, she grabbed the red down and skin on Sonya’s temple and twisted them until Sonya howled and stopped all movement.

  “Hmm! Be considerate—no brutality! But if she won’t obey, then we’re here behind the door. Jakub!”

  The sergeant and Jakub stood silently outside the kitchen door, listening to the sounds of water splashing and three women panting. Suddenly a falling object, one blow after another, and Sonya groaning.

  “Hmm! What’s going on in there!” the staff sergeant barked.

  “She kicked the brush out of my hand,” Zlatunka announced through the door, “and so I gave her a couple of —”

  “Hmm! Proceed!” the staff sergeant shouted, and then silently and with disgust he looked at the way Jakub trembled until the Jagr women unlocked the kitchen door. Sonya was standing next to the smoking washbasin, she was now wearing a blue-and-white striped dress, she was pale as the wall, a red scar on her temple and red stripes all over her arms.

  “Hm,” the staff sergeant said disapprovingly, reproachfully he looked at Zlatunka (his daughter smiled craftily) and commanded: “Snack time!”

  In the hall Mother Jagrova poured white coffee out into five large blue-and-white mugs and cut five slices of poppyseed strudel. The Jagrs sat down to eat while Sonya stood silently over them,

  “Eat with us, girl,” Mother said to her. “You must be hungry after that trip.”

  “Sit down and eat, Sonya!” the staff sergeant ordered. “You’ll need your strength!”

  Sony
a didn’t even turn her head.

  “Want me to sit her down?” asked Zlatunka, and nimbly she reached for the down on Sonya’s reddened temple.

  “Leave her alone!” the staff sergeant shouted at his daughter. “Hm. Mother will take her to her room.”

  And when Mother returned, he took the key from her, finished his snack, got up quickly, and commanded: “Jakub! Hmm! To the garage!”

  Jakub closed the heavy garage doors behind him and moved dejectedly to the left side of the van (his father always stood on the right).

  “Hmm! Hmm!! What’s wrong with you!” the staff sergeant shouted at his son. “Get a hold of yourself! Don’t stand there like a ghost! Get a hold of yourself—and do it right away! Or I’ll let you have it—hmm!”

  “Dad … I think now … maybe we overdid things…”

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. All is fair in love and war—ha! Everything! Understand! Ha! Ha!”

  “But when Sonya… I didn’t expect she’d be totally opposed to…”

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. Are you a man? All right! You must conquer her! Mission accomplished. Good! But conquering is the easiest part of war. The hardest is to hold the conquered territory—ha! And pacify it—ha! And this territory is worth it—ha! How she bit—ha! How she scratched—ha! Like a wildcat—ha! Like a tigress—ha! If I were younger, I’d keep her for myself—ha! Ha! Ha! Get a hold of yourself or I’ll let you have it! Hmm!”

  The staff sergeant went up to his workroom on the third floor, poured himself a large shotglass of cherry brandy, drank it down in three gulps as he paced, then lit a half cigarette in a brown-stained holder made of meerschaum, smoked it as he paced, and sat down to work.

  With a pair of long tailor’s scissors in his hand he read the newspaper columns with a trained eye, suddenly he shouted a joyous “Ha!” and cut out an article:

  A Canadian Air Force STARFIGHTER crashed near Frankfurt Airport. The pilot escaped with light injuries.

  He put the clipping into a box marked MILITARY AIRCRAFT (on the table he had more boxes, marked COMMERCIAL AIRCRAFT, PASSENGER AIRCRAFT, SPY AIRCRAFT, NIGHT FLIGHTS — in each of them a mass of clippings, except for one box labeled SEAPLANES) and with a red pencil he entered a further check along with the appropriate code number and date on his record sheet, to be appended to The Memorandum of Staff Sgt. Jagr to the Ministry of National Defense on the Destructiveness of Aviation (after being posted to an aviation squadron for three weeks, Sgt. Jagr had been transferred to the Engineers, with whom he had then served until his retirement), again he grabbed his scissors and newspapers, but unfortunately there were no more crashes, not even a hijacking, not a single premature landing — in a pensive mood he smoked the whole half cigarette in its brown-stained meerschaum holder, then put it out, drank a large shotglass of cherry brandy, bottom up, and with a pair of heavy infantry binoculars moved to the bay window, from which he could see every which way, down towards the ground and up to the airplane routes far above.

  Down in the yard, Mother Jagrova was going to empty the bones from Sunday’s duckling into the garbage (bones are for the junkman!), “Hm,” the staff sergeant said disapprovingly. Jakub was wandering through the garden like a jackass (instead of looking in on his splendidly young wife!), “Hmm!” Sergeant Jagr said with disgust. Zlatunka was marching off along the path, he opened the window and called out: “Where are you going? Back!”

  “But Daddy, I just need to run out for some shampoo…” Zlatunka called to the window above.

  “Hmm! Nonsense. Young girls don’t need shampoo. Soap is good enough for everything—just slice a few flakes off of it. Hmm!”

  Zlatunka turned back with a look of disgust on her face. When the sound of an airplane engine thundered from the heavens, the staff sergeant checked the time on his pocket stopwatch and with inward hope watched the regularly scheduled jet from Prague to Berlin (he was annoyed by the smoke trails left by jets: when a prop plane leaves that kind of smoke, it means it’s all up with the plane) until it disappeared over the horizon. “Hmm!” he said disapprovingly, and he lingered peacefully in his workroom until 6:44.

  At 6:45 he went down to the dining room: at the table Mother, Zlatunka, and Jakub, on the table five bowls of steaming soup.

  “Hm,” he said. “Mother will no longer put bones in the garbage, but in the box for collection. Hm!”

  “Yes, bones are for the junkman,” said Mother.

  “Zlatunka will cut up small cubes of laundry soap for her shampoo!”

  “But Daddy— Yes, Daddy,” said Zlatunka.

  “And Jakub will stop going around like a phantom—hmm! Hmm!”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Hm. Where’s Sonya?”

  “We invited her to come to the table, but she didn’t respond,” Mother sighed.

  “Should I go get her?” Zlatunka offered alertly, and already she was getting up.

  “Hmm! Sit down! Mother will take her supper up to her room.”

  “Right now?”

  “Right now—hm! She’s our guest and from now on she will eat with us. Even if she’s in another place.”

  After dinner (no talking during dinner) the staff sergeant made his inspection. Sonya was lying on her back in bed—her plate untouched.

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. Eat, Sonya. You must get strong. Don’t be angry—hmm. I’ll feed you myself. Like this. A nice little spoonful of good little soup—right into your pretty little mouth…”

  Sonya let him bring his hand right up to her mouth and then bit it as hard as she could.

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. It’s nothing, let’s wait a bit. Only don’t be angry. Why, you belong to our family already … right? And we like you—nonsense. Ha! Ha!”

  “A real tigress!” the staff sergeant said when he went back to the dining room and sucked blood from the ridge of his hand.

  “Heehee!” Zlatunka giggled slyly.

  “Hmm!” the staff sergeant shouted at her roughly. “At least she’s got the spark—ha! She isn’t like you—hm! You blimp—hmm! You’d eat up everything right away, sure enough! Hmm! Look how fat your hips are already—at twenty—hmm! My daughter ought to be a tigress—but all she is is a blimp! Hmm! Hmm!”

  Back in his workroom the staff sergeant worked hard on his Memorandum and licked the ridge of his hand.

  At 9:00, Jakub came to announce that so far Sonya hasn’t eaten a thing, and then the same announcement again at 10:00. “I’m beginning to have doubts about our success,” he sighed.

  “Hmm!! At the front I’d have you shot for that! Like a dog—hmm! My own son surrendering—hmm! To a woman—hmm! Hmm! Shot!”

  “At first she only shouted, scratched, and kicked. Now she’s biting and breaking the skin…”

  “Ha! Hmm! Nonsense. That’s because she has the spark—ha! And how—ha! Ha! A tigress—ha! She’s a treasure—ha! Ha! Ha!”

  At 10:28, Jakub stormed into his father’s workroom without knocking (normally unthinkable) and shouted with joy that Sonya has eaten everything to the last crumb and she is now sleeping beautifully—

  “So you see, you sissy—hm. And tomorrow be on your toes! Such a wonderful girl—ha! A tigress—ha! Ha! Good night!”

  “Good night, Dad … I’m so happy…”

  “I hope you’ll be even happier when—ha! Ha! Ha! Clear out now! Good night!”

  The staff sergeant smoked his last half cigarette, put it out, cleaned the meerschaum holder out with a wire, and put it away in its leather case. Then he did ten squats, drank three large shotglasses of cherry brandy, each one bottom up, lay down on his back with the blanket up to his chin, said “Ha!” to himself several times, and fell asleep happy.

  At 7:00 in the morning, he got up briskly, did ten squats and, with his pair of heavy infantry binoculars, went to the bay window.

  Barefoot and wearing her blue-and-white dress, Sonya was jumping in the wet grass and picking early red apples. Slender, supple, and nimble, her red mane gleamed and her sun-burned arms and calves re
minded him of Marikka Rökk in that film of hers—ha! Ha! Ha!

  The staff sergeant sharpened the focus on his binoculars and with the white filament in its field of vision he caressed his beautiful daughter-in-law-to-be.

  On his chair made of metal tubes Engineer Jakub Jagr sat at his tubular desk, in deep concentration he tapped on his notebook with a green pencil (green: the color of extrapolation…) and stared at the 355 square feet of spines of technical books, scifi, and mysteries. Sonya remained a big unknown X.

  No longer does she shout, kick, or bite, she eats with us in the dining room, she takes baths, and she walks in the garden—but so far she hasn’t spoken so much as a word. Absolutely no progress there … What are the psychological motivations and mechanisms of her stubborn silence — WHY AM I SO REPUGNANT TO HER—

  The psychological state of a person unjustly imprisoned, of course. But Sonya has been in that psychological state forever … at least for the past two years. Her undiluted repugnance to my person is unlikely, why just before the episode with Ruda Mach we had become so close…

  Sometime later repeat to me once more what you told me this morning, she begged me when I offered her our home that morning at the Hubertus, our second floor, our garden … I keep offering them to her every day and Sonya responds with stubborn silence.

  If we exclude pure repugnance to my person—in view of the violence of Sonya’s conveyance from Liberec, let’s still assign that a 15% probability—the only remaining factor of deviation would be attraction to another person. Let’s assign this attraction rough percentages of possibility:

  Volrab (inertia) 5%

  The Stranger from Prague (only a 38-hour aquaintanceship) 10%

  Ruda Mach (what’s left of the 100%) 70%

  However, Ruda Mach deserted her, and why would Sonya (who in any case had enough time to get him back) go off to the Hotel Imperial in Liberec with the stranger from Prague if she still loved Ruda Mach? So Mach’s 70% drops to 0% and the probability spectrum of Sonya’s behavior is mysterious to the tune of 70%. It’s all a mystery.