Catapult

by Paral, VladimIr

  Through the blossoming grass Jacek sped down the mountain to the forest ranger’s and involuntarily reached for his key ring, but here they don’t lock their doors, with a cry of joy Arnostek slid down a ladder and from the woodshed Janicka came running, in the yard Lida was feeding the hens from a wicker basket, and already she was tossing it aside, “Jacek, you’ve come—”

  “I’m here now, my love—”

  “Wouldn’t you like to go for a walk?”

  “Later, first I’ll quiz Arnostek on his new vocabulary.”

  In the foyer Jacek took off his shoes and put his feet into the enormous leather slippers of the late Adalsky, “Uncle gwab me—” Janicka begged, so hold her in his arms a while and then set her up on the cupboard the way neighbor Mestek does, Janicka was afraid and ecstatic, “Uncle don’t go way—,” he wouldn’t go, but now Arnostek must recite the thirty new words he’s learned, the boy must get ready to go out into the world.

  In early evening behind Lida along the path to the woods, then turn off the path and straight up through the glades to the grassy dunes, “My husband used to call this our Nude Beach…,” said Lida, “It must be nice to sunbathe here…,” said Jacek, “It is, people come here from Prague and some of them don’t bother wearing suits…”

  A cigarette on a stump in front of the forest ranger’s, in the lighted window two children’s silhouettes and their little faces pressed to the glass, “You’re a good man, Jacek,” Lida whispered, “but here life isn’t easy, there’s a lot of work to do, the house, the farming, the children… It would be fine to begin again from nothing, to be young again from the very beginning…”

  Jacek stepped out of the express and hurried across the tracks of the Svitavy station, it’s right across the street, on the warm dark staircase grope and find in the mass of keys the one for this place, big as a church key, under the tin picture of the Eiffel Tower the little Jeannette beach, Tanicka was mending a stocking, and already she was tossing it aside, “Jacek, you devil—”

  “I’m here now, my love—”

  “Wouldn’t you like to hear what I’ve written?”

  “Later, first I’d like to change my shoes…”

  Jacek took off his shoes and looked around in vain for something to put on, all Tanicka had were three pairs of shoes under the bed and otherwise nothing, “I go barefoot at home, but I’ve heard that in Prague they’ve got real Chinese sandals for sale…”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to buy a table and chairs first?”

  “They’re dull, unnecessary things—” Tanicka threw all the bedding off her bed and under the yellow tin Parisian sky they rocked on the cross-wires as on a canoe, Tanicka read eighteen new poems aloud and then suddenly fell asleep. Scarcely had Jacek begun to read the newspaper than a skinny arm slipped before his eyes a chewed-up piece of paper containing the nineteenth:

  With my longest nail

  on my master’s back

  I’ll engrave

  childish obscenities.

  Surely

  it will get through to him then that

  this is no time

  to read the paper!

  A cigarette by the window looking out onto the sad Svitavy station, through the bubbly windowpane plain little parcels wrapped in oiled paper, “Jacek,” Tanicka whispered, “I’ll die here longing for the big city, where the store windows shine and the streetcars clang…”

  Jacek stepped out of the express and hurried with the crowd through the din of the Brno station to the cafeteria, over a stale beer Mojmira was reading The Trade Fair of Wishes Come True and suddenly she lit up, “Jacek, welcome, all happiness—”

  “I’m here now, my love—”

  “Wouldn’t you like to go to the publisher’s, I have to take you there sometime to explain to them that you’re not ready to come right now…”

  “Later, first let’s stuff ourselves. I’m so huuungry—”

  The magnificence of the city of Brno begins right outside the station, streetcar after streetcar in three rows, directly across the square the airline office with its heavy chrome swinging doors, and on both sides a gleaming, unending strip of shop windows and glass doors.

  Through glass doors, swinging doors, and turnstiles, down from refrigerated glass shelves, out of bowls and out from behind curtains, onto spattered counters, onto wood, and onto ever new damask tablecloths and paper trays, plates made of plastic and of gilded porcelain, crackling sausages, crunchy french fries, and meat from the spit, and into steins, paper cups, crystal goblets everything that can conceivably flow, at first icy and then warmer and warmer, “You’re the last man left who knows how to eat—” Mojmira said, “You’re the first woman I’ve enjoyed food so much with—” said Jacek, and gargantuan kisses in front of the dried-up cloakroom attendant at the Hotel Conti-nental.

  A cigarette inside the glass doors, along the garden wall down under the tops of the old trees the street leads to our house, the street is pasted up with a thousand posters on which long ago we used to dream of seeing our name in huge letters, “I’m ashamed now I made such a hog of myself,” Mojmira whispered, “but I’ve been hungry all my life, before the war, during the war, since the war, and I’m still hungry now, it’s wonderful not to have any money, but sometimes a sense of horror comes over me…”

  Jacek jumped from the funicular seat and hurried up the hill to the Mosquito Tower, on the spiral stairs he took out the key ring, from the round windows now the crests of the Krusne Mountains, now the peaks of the Czech Central Range, and now the view into Germany, this thin skeleton key belongs to the Belvedere beach, Tina lying on the bed smoking a cigarette, and already she was tossing it aside, “Jacek—”

  “I’m here now, my love—”

  “Wouldn’t you like to go down to the bar? We just got our quota of Dubonnet—”

  “Later, now I’d like to be with you. Do you have anything for me?”

  Tina gave Jacek some paper money fastened with a hairpin, each bill from a different country, the prettiest of all, like a postage stamp, a colorful franc note, “But now you have to go down to the bar, Jacek. Right away.”

  Without a word Jacek changed into heavy half-boots with tire-tread soles, in these he could go up and down the stairs like a ghost, they could serve for attack or defense, “You won’t need them today,” said Tina firmly, “wait till I come down. Scoot!”

  On the way downstairs Jacek passed a huge fellow with a thick cigar in his bared, vulgar teeth, in the bar Jacek drank Dubonnet and in hot breakers again and again he beheld Tina’s tormenting gold-and-orange skin, he breathed in deeply like a drowning man that hitherto unknown smarting sensation, and again hot wave after wave.

  A cigarette by the window, Tina’s hair let down and quivering like an animal’s, he poured another two glassfuls and looked out in silence, “Jacek,” Tina whispered from behind him, “I’d like some milk now, sweet white warm milk…”

  The funicular down to Bohosudov, the bus at 5:34 and in Usti at 6:05 as if from the 4:45 to Berlin, streetcar No. 5 to Vseborice, Jacek hurried along the road past the playground, on the well-scrubbed staircase he pulled out his mass of keys, opened the Residence with the one with the letters FAB and the dog’s head, Lenka was wiping the foyer with a rag, and already she was tossing it aside, “Jacek, you came back today, already—”

  “I’m here now, my love—”

  “Wouldn’t you like some strawberries, they’re fresh from our garden…”

  “Later, first I’d like something to drink. You didn’t forget the milk… No hot cereal, just warm up the milk for me and put in five cubes of sugar…”

  “You forgot the white plush again, didn’t you—”

  “Yes, I did, darling, but I’ll bring it, really I will—” said Jacek, putting on his old slippers worn smooth to a shine.

  “Daddy—” our little darling calls, her chin on the brass pole, down with the netting at once and his rough chin on her sweet little tummy, Lenicka cried out with p
leasure, nothing’s so sweet to kiss as our little one, “Daddy gwab me—” cries our pretty little girl, and so swing her back and forth and set her up on top of the cupboard, Lenicka is afraid and ecstatic, but now she must go beddie-bye, “Daddy don’t go way—” and stay by her bedside until she goes to sleep with her thumb in her mouth.

  A cigarette by the window, outside children being called home to bed and now the stars like urchins on a fence slide on their rumps down the antennas into cribs with netting, just across the way Trost with a cigarette by the window… that fellow’s gawking right this way, from that window he’s goggling right at my face—

  By bus at 3:55 from the main square through the canyon of facades none of which can be skipped, down the row of old chestnuts, around the sharp curve past the gas works, and through the mountains of dead soil torn up from the earth to the monument with the lion eaten up by verdigris, now the linden tree with the sign and along the clay road up to the retreat, the yellow house isn’t ours, it belongs to Mrs. Heymerova, who’ll come back again very soon, on the oval table and on the wall stags bellowing in rut, they don’t bellow but they’re embroidered with open jaws, and out the window of the retreat the undulation of gleaming emerald grass rearing up to the gleaming sky like the coast to the sea, we’ve already set sail, but we forgot to pull up the anchor, the boat has only a lookout deck and the train keeps hauling us around and around and back to the launching-pad at home, try it once on foot or perhaps on a horse, MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE that will carry us away from the plain of too many victories and hurl us into the bloodspill of salvation because it is the bloodspill of a single defeat, MY KINGDOM FOR A KICK-OFF so that instead of going a little way with a satchel of dirty clothes we can take off once and for all with the cosmonaut’s luggage, I already know the timetable by heart, CAPTAIN, I REQUEST THE SIGNAL TO TAKE OFF— This is the last time I’ll ask.

  Part V — Autosynthesis — sixteen

  Late, as usual, express No. 7 from Bucharest, Budapest, and Bratislava was just pulling into Platform One at Brno Main Station. In the midst of the usual confused rush of travelers Jacek took in the always unexpected sequence of numbers on the reserved cars until, sufficiently amused, he finally caught sight of his own car, No. 53, hooked up between Nos. 28 and 32.

  In compartment F by the window on seat No. 67 a fat old man looked up, we have No. 68 across from him, Jacek put his traveling satchel up into the net, hung his beige iridescent raincoat beneath it, and when he’d sat down another passenger entered the compartment with a seat ticket in hand, he had the odd number 69, next to the fat man, he put his suitcase up into the net and he hung beneath it his blue-gray raincoat of the same material and cut as Jacek’s.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” said the fat man by the window, “do either of you play chess by any chance?”

  “I do,” said Jacek.

  “I wouldn’t mind a game,” the third passenger said simultaneously, he and Jacek looked at each other, laughed, and the train pulled quietly out.

  “So you two come to an agreement which of you I’m to demolish,” the fat man roared joyously, “meanwhile I’ll set up the pieces—” and he was already sticking them into his portable chess board.

  “You play, since you’re sitting there,” the third passenger said to Jacek, “I’ll kibitz. To myself.”

  “You can do it out loud,” Jacek smiled as he opened P-Q4.

  The fat man opened up on the same column, P-Q4, mechanically Jacek moved P-KB4, the fat man again the mirror image, P-KB4, another couple of moves and similar countermoves and we’ve achieved that double interlocking barrier known as a stonewall.

  The train rushed on through meadows and forests, a girl waiting behind a lowered barrier flashed by, she was wearing a red polka-dot dress, and on the little table by the window two players sweating over their total blockade, nothing could come of it, both were waiting for their opponent to make a mistake and that’s a terrible bore, “I’ve got to step out a minute…,” Jacek grumbled a good quarter hour before reaching the Svitavy station, and he stood all that time by a window in the corridor.

  Tanicka Rambouskova had been waiting at the far end of the Svitavy station and she ran up to Jacek’s window, we stop here for just a minute, “Don’t think I came here just to see you—” she lied, out of breath from her gallop.

  “I wouldn’t have imagined it even in my sleep—do you sell lemonade here?”

  “You’re a disgusting cynic and I don’t want to see you ever again, ever—understand!”

  “I’ll jump off the train!”

  “That would be wonderful… I’d lay your bloody head in my lap… Jacek, please, get out—”

  “It isn’t that simple…”

  The train pulled quietly out and Jacek waved to Tanicka until she disappeared around the bend, why didn’t we get out, he sighed and went back to his compartment, on the table that nightmarish unfinished game and both passengers preoccupied, making faces over it, “You said you’d like to play,” Jacek told the third passenger, “so if you’re still inclined—”

  “If it’s OK with you—” said the third passenger, and he eagerly moved over into Jacek’s seat No. 68 opposite the indefatigable chess player, while Jacek moved into the thus emptied No. 69 and with relief he now observed how his substitute was tormenting himself, he tormented himself another hour, as far as Chocen, where the two of them, quite exhausted, settled for a draw rather than an endless repetition of the same moves.

  The third passenger fished a timetable out of his suitcase and compared it with his watch, “Twenty minutes late, right—” said Jacek. “Yep,” the passenger agreed, “I wonder if we’ll catch the 4:45 to Berlin—” “You can rely on it—” Jacek assured him, “are you going to Usti by any chance?” “Yes, and you?” “Me too. For a long time?” “Possibly for good. You know the place?” “For ten years now almost too well. What would you like to know?” “Do you know anything about the chemical plant?” “Everything. I work next door at Cottex. You’re a chemist?” “Yes. If you’ll permit me—” and the passenger pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to Jacek,

  ENGINEER NORBERT HRADNIK

  Jacek read the card, got up, and almost embraced him. “We’re in the same profession then, I’m very happy…” “It really is a lucky coincidence…” “Most happy to do anything for you…” “You’re really very kind….” “With the greatest pleasure…” expressing their affability they rushed to the dining car and shared a large dinner, Hradnik was running away from his wife and two children, from an awful job in Brno to Usti, we from Usti to Brno, two more beers, “I’m Jacek—” “I’m Nora—” and two carafes of wine, “I’ll find you jobs, Nora, as many as you want—” “I’m more worried about a place to stay, Jacek, they’ll stick me in some dorm—” “Tonight you can stay at our place—” “At home, Jacek, I had to cook hot meals twice a day—” “Nora, I’ve got fantastic chicks in Svitavy and Brno—” “Two cognacs!” Nora ordered, “Georgian!” Jacek added, and just before Prague they stumbled back to their compartment, in the dark of the tunnel they fell laughing into their exchanged seats and here was Prague Main Station already, both got up and put on their raincoats, “But Jacek, you’ve got on mine—” Nora guffawed in Jacek’s beige iridescent, “And you’ve got on mine, Nora—” Jacek giggled in Nora’s aviation blue-gray, they fit and suit us, CAPTAIN, NOW I UNDERSTAND YOUR CODE—

  “Why you’re like twins,” the fat man grinned from his window, “Let’s exchange them,” Jacek cried out, “I’m awfully fond of this aviation color—” “Sold!” Nora cried out, “we’ve both got a new coat for free—”

  “Darling—” Anna Bromova called from the exit of Prague Main Station, and she ran up to Nora, only a step away from him did she realize her error, “Jacek…,” she whispered in terrible embarrassment, Jacek laughed and put his arm around her slender shoulders, “Jacek, stay in Prague today…,” she said on their swift trip through the little park, “…you know no one’s expecti
ng you in Usti…” “Today I’ve got something very important to arrange,” Jacek muttered like a conspirator, “for both of us…,” and at least Anna was able to see him off at Prague Central Station, Jacek and Nora easily caught the 4:45 to Berlin and Jacek had time to come out to the window in the corridor, Anna stood for a long time by the car, she kissed her palm, blew the kiss up to him, and the train pulled quietly out over bridges high above the streets of Prague, it passed through the green shadows of Stromovka Park and then beneath a hillside of millionaires’ mansions and the Byzantine skyscraper of the Hotel International.

  “With your right foot!—” Jacek called out at the Usti station, and Nora had to step out right foot first for good luck, streetcar No. 5 to Vseborice, the last stop, the two men hurried past the playground, the steps up to our place have multiplied considerably again, “You go first—” Jacek pushed Nora, reshod in his old slippers and carrying Jacek’s black satchel, into the dark foyer, Lenka came out to meet them with a smile, “Who are you bringing home, Jacek?” she said to Nora, she took the traveling satchel from him and went back into the kitchen, Jacek stepped ahead of Nora and entered behind Lenka, “Mr. Norbert Hradnik.”

  Nora kissed Lenka’s hand and she took it unexpectedly well, heaven knows when the last time was that anyone had greeted her that way, Nora moved through the kitchen with agility and prepared a marvelous omelet, but then he’s had the training provided by five years of married life, Lenka clapped her hands in admiration, Nora took Lenicka by the legs and taught her to do backward somersaults, you can see the routine of a father of two children left behind in Brno, after supper he talked about the Margrave Jost and Lenka showed a surprising familiarity with Moravian history, she must have read up on it sometime, the substitute had taken and they put him to bed in the living room with two pillows under his head, depleting Jacek’s customary stack.

  From Cottex home as slowly as possible through the town, at the Hranicar movie house they’re playing No One Will Laugh for the third week in a row so let’s go to the movies for a change, herring and onions at the Svet Cafeteria and a small carafe of white Burgundy at the Zdar, everywhere he goes a bachelor lives it up, even when he’s alone, paradise must be solitude with the possibility of choice, Jacek stopped in at the barbershop and spent a pleasant time in Kamilka’s soothing hands, “Why didn’t you come that day at ten…,” she whispered when he kissed her on the elbow, “That day I couldn’t, but today’s no problem…” “Today my Dad’s here from Mimon, but come tomorrow—,” Jacek inhaled his cologne and gazed contentedly at the travel agency display next to the notice agency, two pretty girls invite us to visit the Czech Paradise and on a green sea a white boat sails along, on the column a new poster with Candy in a red tux, LAST APPEARANCE BEFORE OUR GRAND TOUR—