Catapult

by Paral, VladimIr

  INTO OVERTIME

  Everyone will eventually find the sort of paradise he is able to imagine.

  —Armand Lanoux

  Part VI — Flight — twenty-one

  Jacek laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks, he poured out another cognac for himself and one for Tomas Roll: “…and what was that you told them about fried mushrooms, Tom?”

  “I told them about that widow of yours in Teplice,” the imp grinned.

  “Who? I keep a file, but I can’t remember any widow in Teplice…”

  “She’ll never see forty again, you often go visit her instead of going to Brno, all night long you two fry mushrooms and play duets on the ocarina…,” the dwarf giggled.

  “But why a widow of forty…”

  “It has more effect on them than a broad from a hotel or a young eighteen-year-old chick,” the imp explained, with his horse’s teeth he clasped the thin edge of the glass and sucked the cognac out through a gap where once an incisor had been, Jacek laughed till he choked, a widow with an ocarina is in the last analysis only a dry advertisement in comparison with an illustrated Oriental fairy tale with seven naiads, Jacek poured again and raised his goblet in a toast, “Here’s to freedom, Tom—” “to the two Lenkas, my lord Jost—”

  The two Lenkas came home with Grandma at dusk, every day they come home later and later, “Uncle Woll, make a circus—” Lenicka cried, the midget jumped down from his chair onto his hands and somersaulted through the kitchen and the living room, with a single wave of his monstrously strong arms he swept the mattresses and cushions from the sofa onto the carpet, nimbly he arranged them in a semicircle and with his teeth he placed the kitchen chair in front of the audience, “And what will it be, little one?” he croaked, “A show,” Lenicka gasped, and she clapped her hands in joy, the dwarf picked her up and tenderly seated her, Lenka and Grandma were already seated, and the imp was serving them full goblets, only Jacek didn’t feel like sitting on the floor with his chin on his knees watching those silly puppets— “They aren’t silly!” croaked the pygmy, for just an instant Jacek felt the clasp of his gorilla arms and then he too was sitting on the pillow-strewn floor with a goblet in his hand.

  Holding the puppets’ copper wires, Roll’s hands flashed over the back of the chair and on the bright seat that acted as the stage, between a china mug and a box of matches, figure after figure appeared and greeted the public, the king, the queen, the princess, and the nice old lady, “She gets eaten up by the wolf—” Lenicka cried, “—and then Wed Widing Hood comes—,” but Tomas Roll was enacting a new tale, the queen and the nice old lady jumped around the box of matches and stuck one match after another into the white mug, each match required tremendous exertion and the princess was jumping around behind them like a puppy, she wanted to play with them but there was no time for play, match after match followed the hard road and dropped with great effort into the mug, the king was lying next to the chair leg and going -zzzz-, now he gets up and enters the action—no, he doesn’t get up but only turns over onto his other side and goes on snoring, meanwhile match after match went up and into the mug, the little princess climbed up to the very top of the chair, then she fell down on her back like a beetle and the dwarf faithfully screeched on her account, it’s nothing, one more match and, with all their efforts, the last one—just then the king jumped up and snatch! there were no more matches in the mug (the dwarf had put them back in the box) and at once the weird ballet of the queen and the old lady commenced again around the box, the princess was once again clambering up to the top of the chair, she’ll fall down again in no time and by the chair leg the king was snoring again, and again match after match up and into the white mug, the princess had fallen down boom! again and the dwarf had squealed again, this time Lenicka squealed too, and now Lenicka got up and went for the king, “…he’s still beddie-bye and we mustn’t wake him!” the dwarf croaked, “… and we mustn’t wake him…,” Lenicka repeated in a whisper and then squealed out, “—that’s Daddy!”

  Lenka drank her glass straight down and even Grandma took a mighty slurp, from behind the chair back two powerful arms reached out and filled their glasses to the brim, Jacek didn’t get any, the dwarf threw the wires of the three female figures over his arm and just by jerking his elbow kept the three figures incessantly dancing, with one hand he grabbed the king’s wires and with his other he fished for something behind him, the king sat up and traveled on his bottom across the chair seat, ch-ch-ch-ch went the dwarf, ch-ch-ch-ch and suddenly hop hop, a water-nymph leaped onto the stage, a new figure, she and the king grabbed at each other and hoppity-hop a dance together, they sat down together and shoveled it in, “They’re eating fried mushrooms from the Black Forest,” the dwarf commented, and again he raised them for a new dance, hop hop, hop hop, and hoppity-hop, Lenka drank her glass straight down and Grandma took a mighty slurp, quick as lightning the powerful arms had filled their glasses to the brim and quick as lightning they were back behind the stage, Jacek didn’t get any, hop hop, hop hop, and hoppity-hop, exhausted from this hellish dance the king plumped down on his rear and again to the sound of ch-chch-ch he traveled across the seat, ch-ch-ch-ch to the white mug and again made a—

  “Gwab!” screeched Lenicka, “Grab,” Grandma whispered, captivated by the story, “Grab!” said Lenka, and she drank her glass straight down, and Grandma downed the hatch as well.

  The king was snoring again next to the chair leg, the queen and the nice old lady were carrying match after match to the mug, and the princess was lying on her back like a beetle, “Ith the king coming home today?” the dwarf lisped.

  “But he came back last night,” said Lenka, and this time she did the pouring for herself, for Grandma too, Jacek didn’t get any.

  “Daddy din’t come!” Lenicka squealed.

  “But you’ve got your third pistol from him and I’ve got my fourth cocoa,” Lenka called, “so hop into your pants!”

  “Daddy put on pants!” cried Lenicka.

  “Shh—Daddy’s still beddie-bye and we mustn’t wake him!” cried Lenka, “I want to wake him!” cried Lenicka, ch-ch-ch-ch—the dwarf responded and already the king was riding again over the smooth surface and here again was the water-nymph and they grabbed each other, hop, hop, and hoppity-hop, the king exhausted on his rear and ch-ch-ch-ch back to the white mug, “We won’t give you any!” shrieked Lenicka, she jumped up and grabbed the cup with both hands, the king kept trying to reach it, “Go way—” squealed Lenicka, and boom! she smashed the king with her fist so hard his head flew off, the head which had only been temporarily fastened on after that last trouncing, and out of his neck popped a copper spring, “Let him gorge himself,” the half-drunk Lenka clamored, and she crammed the remains of the king into the mug, “Take that—” Lenicka cried, and she and the queen beat him down into the mug, and then the imp handed her the water-nymph, and Lenicka stuffed it into the mug as well, “And both of you take that—” and she thumped them around in the mug as if it were a mortar, the six female hands took over and the fairy tale turned into a bloody bacchanalia, Jacek put his empty glass down on the carpet and clapped his hands, “That’s enough!”

  Obligingly the dwarf pulled up all the wires and the puppets were borne aloft, the story was almost over, so sit down again, the queen and the princess and the nice old lady were kind enough to sit.

  All of a sudden clop-clop-clop and the prince was here, he kissed the queen’s hand and blew a kiss to Lenicka and Grandma, the puppets grabbed each other’s hands and together hoppity-hop around the mug, hoppity-hop, hoppity-hop, hoppity-hop dancing around the porcelain grave, Lenicka must go beddie-bye now, hoppity-hop and that’s the happy ending to our fairy tale.

  Tomas Roll tossed the puppets into a box and took Lenicka off to her crib for beddie-bye, with Grandma he picked over the rice and with Lenka he made Swiss steak, he soaked some peas for tomorrow, at the next meal he told a dozen amusing stories, after dinner he sent Grandma to bed and went off to
wash the dishes and wipe up the floor.

  “He’s beginning to get on my nerves,” Jacek whispered when he was left alone on the living room sofa with Lenka.

  “You’re the one who brought him home…,” she whispered, we have to whisper in our house now on Mr. Roll’s account, and now the imp’s back in here again.

  “It was an awful lot of fun,” said Lenka.

  “Terrific,” Jacek said.

  “You can never have too much fun,” croaked the dwarf, “and you have to have it, even if they hang your old man— Just sit there, I’ll turn down the covers for you,” and he disappeared through the glass doors of the bedroom.

  “What have you got to tell me, Jacek?”

  “Tomorrow I’m going to Brno and please put two white shirts—”

  “Can I help with anything, dear?” they heard from the other side of the door.

  “Go to bed, you’ve had enough with your trip,” Lenka called mechanically, and then she caught herself, “Excuse me, Jacek…,” she whispered.

  “OK. OK now,” the imp continued his tomfoolery, “Beddie-bye and good night, dear.”

  Lenka stared fixedly at Jacek, Jacek avoided her glance and poured himself another drink.

  “Tomorrow I’m going to Brno,” they heard through the door, “pack two white shirts in my satchel, and don’t give me any lunch…”

  “OK,” said Lenka, “and don’t forget to bring me the white plush!”

  “This time I really won’t forget,” the dwarf croaked through the door.

  “It’s just a trifle,” Lenka said, “and I don’t ask anything else from you…”

  “I’ll bring it, really I will,” Tomas Roll promised.

  “You’ve promised it to me for so long…,” Lenka whispered.

  “You know how it is, when a man has to travel…,” the imp sighed insincerely.

  “Then don’t bring it,” said Lenka. “Do you hear? I don’t want to give you any trouble!”

  “Ch-ch-ch-ch,” came from behind the door. “I’m here now, my love—but I forgot that plush again!”

  “I told you I didn’t want it.”

  “OK. OK now,” the imp mocked from behind the door. “Zzzz, I don’t feel sleepy yet, yesterday she couldn’t… come give me a kiss! Lenunka…”

  “You even told him that?” Lenka hissed from the sofa.

  “Lenunka, darling…,” the dwarf croaked through the door of our bedroom, luckily he couldn’t have anything left to lampoon, “It’s never been like this before…,” croaked the imp, “… and now I’m off to Brno. Pack two white shirts in my satchel, and no lunch…”

  The best cure for depression is good cognac, the depression doesn’t go away but it no longer bothers you so much, Jacek and Tomas Roll were drinking cognac in the living room while in the kitchen Grandma was beating the pans as a sign of defiance, dusk was just arriving at the balcony door when the pygmy left to get another pint, but suddenly he dashed back into the living room, “Come and look at something—,” with a powerful tug he raised Jacek from the sofa and pushed him into the kitchen, Grandma was pounding the lids and directly beneath the window, on the playground, the two Lenkas with Trost.

  Trost was actually trying to pick up those two dear creatures, he lifted Lenicka onto his shoulders and Lenicka laughed and grabbed him by his ears, he whispered something to Lenka and Lenka laughed and shamelessly leaned his way. “What are they up to with that slob…,” Jacek whispered in horror.

  “As chance would have it, he’s a respectable man!” said Grandma and bang! with the lids.

  “Let him talk to his own Mrs. and play with his own brat!”

  “But he’s got his little Pavel out there, too,” said Grandma, and with her dried-up finger she pointed out some kid who was Lenicka’s age, “and now he’s the boy’s papa and mama both, for Mrs. Trostova’s taken to sleeping around.”

  “No wonder she’s sleeping around, with a jerk like him…”

  “He’s a respectable man!” Grandma shouted, and bang! with the lids, “You could never touch him, Jacek! As those things happen, she was transferred out of her office and put on the road and she started sleeping around, they say she took up with some Ethiopian…,” and Grandma crossed herself.

  “Just so he doesn’t hang around Lenka…,” Jacek stormed dejectedly and hiccuped, “let him place an ad…”

  “It isn’t easy, Jacek,” said Grandma, “you’re always away and there isn’t even anyone to help with the laundry, now Mr. Mestek’s on vacation. And Mr. Trost fixed the switch for us and made us a key for the drying room and he knocked down those boxes on the balcony so Lenicka wouldn’t trip over them—he’s a crackerjack with his hands, O Lord!”

  “I’ll knock them off him…,” Jacek muttered as he was seized by a powerful attack of hiccups, the dwarf hit him on the back until it passed, at last Lenka and Lenicka came home, but only for a second, Mr. Trost has promised to take them to see the monument with the lion, which they’d never seen though he said it was very close, “Uncle Twost’s got a gweat gweat big motocycle,” Lenicka pointed, “wif a gweat big sidecar on it—” “I’ll take you to see the lion in my car,” squeaked the dwarf, “Don’t want any car, want motocycle—” Lenicka screamed, and she bit the imp on the arm.

  “The gentlemen are having a good time—” Lenka grinned, and she tapped her finger on the empty bottle of Georgian cognac, Jacek received a perceptible whack on the back from the dwarf, he opened his mouth but only a mighty hiccup came out, “Huwwy, Mommy,” called Lenicka, “We mustn’t wet Uncle Twost get way—” and the door banged after the Lenkas, Grandma clattered the lids like cymbals on Corpus Christi, the dwarf planted cruel blows on Jacek’s back, and down the concrete road past the playground Trost drove off with the Lenkas, if you ever bring him into my home I’ll turn on the gas, but only till it makes an explosive mixture with the air, then I’ll light a match, IF NOT ALONE, CAPTAIN, THEN I’LL MAKE THE FLIGHT WITH MY ENTIRE FAMILY—

  VI — twenty-two

  Stylish pearl-gray furniture on blue shag carpets and a bluish-silver brocade on the king-size bed, Anna nice and tanned in a silvery dressing gown by the illuminated mirrored cavern of the bar, and just the right music coming stereo from two speakers, the roar, muted by the window, of the far-off capital, and on the ceiling the shadow play of car lights, stay here—

  DO NOT OPEN BEFORE THE TRAIN STOPS!

  Reddening wild roses around the steps up to the house, a pure kiss, a clean white apron, four heavy antique place settings, the clean smell of roast meat and the glass jug with the ten-crown note on the bottom, strong tan men in clean white shirts on red garden chairs under a green linden in the silence of an eternally blue canopy and clean sheets for the clean strawberry loving of purity itself, or here—

  NICHT ÖFFNEN BEVOR DER ZUG HÄLT!

  Arnostek and Janicka in Indian headbands took Lida captive at the edge of the woods and led her through the tall grass to her martyr’s stake, Arnostek expertly tied his mother up with laundry cord while Janicka approached her with a box of clothespins, she attached the first one to the hem of her skirt, she attached the second to her shin, “That hurts—” Lida cried, “you’re leaving again, don’t go—,” how ‘bout here—

  NE PAS OUVRIR AVANT L’ARRET DU TRAIN!

  Tanicka’s eager face turned upwards toward the window of the car, the train stops here for just two minutes, her slender shoulders and slim body at the very start of its life, hungry for instruction, eager to give itself and to go through the entire alphabet, “Everything is so terrifically wonderful—,” here—

  NON APRIRE PRIMA CHE IL TRENO SIA FERMO!

  “I’m so huungry—” cried Mojmira from the exit of Brno Main Station, right across the street the heavy chrome swinging doors into the airline building stirred, for a moment a red No. 1 streetcar passed and hid the view, we used to ride that line to and from our school, that line goes past the theater and the Kiosk to the old Luzanky Park behind my home, I have a room the
re all to myself, a desk and a lamp that illuminates just the surface of the desk, and on the wall a wooden saber and a globe from Dad, with a briefcase in his hand an air force officer jumped off the platform of the streetcar and was running right this way, Mojmira drew Jacek to the left toward the Petrov Cafeteria and Jacek kept looking back, the red streetcar was pulling away, he had time to jump on, and across the way the heavy chrome swinging doors into the airline building stirred, “Watch where you’re going!—” Mojmira shouted when Jacek, still looking back, banged into a passerby, “That’s just what I’m doing,” said Jacek, and Mojmira had to drag him by force into the Petrov and up to the second floor.

  “Since when do you drink red wine?” Mojmira wondered aloud when Jacek ordered some. “I was once a commissary officer in the army, and each branch of the service had different levels of cuisine. The pilots had it best: they got game, chocolate, and red wine,” Jacek explained to her.

  Just then two noncoms in blue-gray uniforms stopped in the entry, they had submachine guns and red armbands, and Jacek stiffened, “A patrol,” Mojmira said, the airmen gave a sharp look over the room, “An escort,” Jacek whispered. “They must be looking for someone who’s gone AWOL,” Mojmira laughed. “I know who,” said Jacek, “definitely,” and he rose, “I’ll be right back,” he said, and he smiled at Mojmira, “I’ll be back again,” and he went out of the restaurant behind the two men and downstairs and out into the street, the escort stopped in front of the Petrov and Jacek ran on alone, he made his way through the crowd and rushed through the heavy chrome swinging doors, down the corridor, through the doors with wings painted on them, and up to the counter, “A ticket, please.”

  “Where to?” asked a girl in a blue-gray uniform.