‘Ha-ha, when did I ever have nothing to do with it? Sometimes I think problems get so terribly lonely if they don’t have me for company.’
‘You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘Oh come on, everything is falling down…’
The emptiness of dots now beckoned from the other side as well.
‘You’re a liar, you. I can hardly keep myself together. One real cough and my body will fall apart, why do you have to bring this foolishness up now?’
‘But I didn’t say a word about how you look, although I see that your relationship to beauty hasn’t changed. You still hold it captive, don’t you? The Stockholm syndrome is at work, it must be.’
The driver cleared his throat.
‘When was the last time you paid somebody a compliment? A little practice wouldn’t have killed you.’
‘What are you two blabbing about? The laws of physics are going extinct here!’
‘So the laws of logic shouldn’t get off any more lightly.’
The driver laughed.
‘I’m happily married, if you’re implying something, and I have four children, so don’t imagine too much. I just mentioned it. I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you?’
‘Look at all those stars. Where did all those stars come from? Would you two prefer to sit together?’
‘To be perfectly honest, I don’t know whether there is anything left of me that might have any sort of qualitative state, so I guess the question should rather be: Are you?’
‘Ah, come on. I look at you and I see you. You’re here. How is everything perfectly fine? How?’
‘Come on, man, tell them, just tell them to take their heads out of their arses and to look at what’s going on. This is not fine. Nothing is fine at all.’
The cloud ahead of them was spreading. They were getting closer and closer.
‘Have you gone a little soft, Evan? Were the years hard on you? Where’s your spirit?’
‘I’ll show you spirit.’
‘This is a little embarrassing. Aren’t you going to tell her? Don’t you want to talk about it?’
‘What was it?’
‘I do not know if it is ok for me to say something.’
‘La-la-la-la-la.’
Kras looked at her and shook his head. Zoja raised her eyebrows and her shoulders.
‘I’ll be fine, man. Now we’re together. Nothing can hurt us.’
‘You always act like – you always did act like – it’s nothing.’
‘And now here I am, just like you. It seems that our relationship with reality has no impact on our destiny.’
‘Wow, Kras, what happened to that cynic who only had armed resistance on his mind? Don’t touch me, please, I’m not clean.’
‘But isn’t your back all bloody? What the hell’s going on now?’
‘Undress a cynic and you’ll find an idealist.’
‘If I remember correctly, I was naked just a few moments ago, so the absence of blood is not so surprising. And who undressed you?’
‘No. It was the other woman that was bloody. Where did she go?’
‘I don’t know? I was just on my way to the airport, because God commanded me to do something. Now, to be perfectly honest, I’m a little lost.’
‘God, upper-case?’
‘The years have obviously soured both of your brains.’
‘Kronos? Upper-case, of course.’
‘You…believe?’
‘No. Come on, just a moment, please, come on, everyone together, let’s focus on our situation.’
‘We’re on a rock hurtling through the universe.’
‘We exist.’
‘Is there anything stranger than that?’
‘You’re crazy. You’ve gone crazy.’
‘I have in my possession a mechanical thing that has me in its possession, otherwise I’m a ghost.’
‘That sounds like something I’d be inclined to doubt.’
‘Matter is energy.’
‘We depend on thought.’
‘We depend on dead things.’
‘No, seriously. You…believe?’
‘I have to pee.’
‘I love you guys.’
‘Who said that?’
‘It came from outside.’
‘There’s nothing outside! Look, look out!’
‘I think my father is going to commit suicide.’
‘He won’t make it.’
‘Who said that?’
‘From outside?’
‘You can’t even see the end, there’s no more end, it just stretches and stretches, there’s just emptiness, everywhere.’
‘Is that what you wanted?’
‘Absolutely not. Perhaps. I don’t know. It’s also much easier, in a way.’
‘Without edges? A rift? A hole?’
‘How do you feel?’
‘Terrible, for as long as I don’t get rid of the feeling that I’m alone.’
‘So you understand?’
‘Who said that?’
‘I can only be honest with you. Only with you can I be myself. Am I putting too much of a burden on you? I don’t want you to feel responsible for me.’
‘What’s all this fucking responsibility? An empty word. I’m all for activability.’
‘For love?’
‘Is that it?’
‘That’s what I want to believe in.’
‘You can lean on me if you want.’
‘Just let me be me. I’m not here to hurt anyone. Don’t feel threatened. Please.’
‘Danger always arrives with exactly that on its mouth.’
‘Would you like to be safe? What does that mean?’
‘Do you know how much effort is needed for me to make at least a somewhat clear picture?’
‘One that’s a lie?’
‘Only if you’re lying. Are you lying?’
‘I’d like to be honest.’
‘That’s dangerous.’
‘For whom?’
‘You, primarily.’
‘And for us?’
‘Us?’
‘Well, then, go ahead and be honest.’
‘Who did you say that to?’
‘The thermal death of the universe. The Boltzmann constant. I can’t believe I can still remember that. Hard to believe I was ever even at school. Is that it? Is that what you wanted to show us?’
‘It’s just an illusion, right? Calm down.’
‘If this is an illusion, then I am delusional, and if I am delusional, how am I supposed to calm down? Maybe I am also de-lingual, and de-emotional, and de-aware. Maybe I’m in a straitjacket somewhere, right now, and the pre-death DMT is pumping into my veins, I am recalling my miserable life in dreamy gusts and quickly departing into the eternal nothing.’
‘So we, your long-lost friends, are so important to you that you incarnated us in your last moment? That’s a lovely thought, I suppose, although I am a little concerned about the ease with which you’re taking on my personality.’
‘About this DMT…’
‘Didn’t he get death high on acid in one of his stories?’
‘He? Who are you talking about?’
‘The old person with the scythe? The dead man in black? A zombie? That loathsome personification.’
‘No, that’s just it – death must be something young and juicy. It becomes what it takes from you. It feeds itself on that.’
‘I’m dying.’
‘Me too!’
‘I would have expected a little less enthusiasm.’
‘What do you know about enthusiasm?’
‘Just a little more…’
‘And how did he get it high?’
‘That I’ve forgotten.’
‘I’m thirsty.’
‘Didn’t you just say you had to pee?’
‘I’m thirsty and I have to pee. Our bodies are just one big hole.’
‘Nobody’s hungry?’
‘Hungry for sense.’
‘H
ow presumptuous. Either way, you end up just flushing the toilet.’
‘A choice thought.’
‘Exactly this one out of all of them, right?’
‘Oh come on, now the stars are going out. Come on, come back, well, at least the stars, at least that, please. I don’t care if there are no more fields and signs and blades of grass, I can give that up, but the stars…’
‘Is this by any chance the first time you’re eye to eye with this?’
‘I’d rather pluck them out.’
‘Pull them out.’
‘Aaaaaaaaaaaa!’
‘Anyone else cold?’
‘No.’
‘Me neither, I’m just asking because since everything is fading out, I think cold would have to follow.’
‘Logic.’
‘I know.’
‘Darkness. Pure green darkness.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘The universe is green.’
‘That’s such a human sentence.’
‘Well, sorry. That’s the only kind I have.’
‘Just a little bit more…’
‘Do you have any children?’
‘Uh, can we change the subject?’
‘Out of the blue?
‘And you?’
‘God forbid.’
‘Upper-case?’
‘Lowly, lowly, lower case.’
‘Come on, something else, please.’
‘I have four of them.’
‘Can I have one?’
‘Be my guest.’
‘Just kidding.’
‘Me too, probably.’
‘What are we even driving on? I can’t see anything. Before there was asphalt at least, orange asphalt. It’s disappeared. The car’s not even shaking any more. Are we even moving?’
‘The cloud is bigger. Maybe it’s growing or maybe we’re getting closer and closer.’
‘Perspective, right? We’re all dependent on perspective.’
‘I hope so.’
‘So that cloud is our goal?’
‘So it was said.’
‘By whom?’
‘They’re all dead.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Look at the cloud. That’s a cruel cloud. That’s a killer, for sure, look at it. All grey and curled and furious. That’s what killers look like. Do you think it left something underneath? That it didn’t position itself over ground zero, over the naked desert? It got everything.’
‘You can’t even begin to imagine how happy I am to have met you.’
‘Do you think he really won’t make it? That he’ll jump up and grab the raven by the claws and fall up into the slot in the sky, into some sort of celestial womb? Be born in reverse?’
‘In my experience, till now things have all gone straight down. But given the current state, I would not be surprised in the least if something took off in the wrong direction.’
‘So you accept it?’
‘Not in the least. I’m just saying.’
‘We’re safe?’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I’m worried it will just end, that I’ll open my mouth and let out a simple word that will be cut in half.’
‘That seems like a legitimate concern to me.’
‘Hold your breath.’
‘Tense up every muscle in your body.’
‘Any minute now.’
‘Be prepared.’
‘It’s getting tense.’
‘I’m drooling.’
‘So you are hungry.’
‘I’ve never been so hungry.’
‘Starving.’
‘I could eat that whole cloud, skin and bones and all.’
‘And I’m the crazy one?’
‘Have you ever eaten clouds?’
‘If you must know, I have.’
‘And?’
‘Rather empty.’
‘Entirely empty.’
‘You too?’
‘No. By feel.’
‘Any second now.’
‘I’ve been holding my breath for five minutes.’
‘What’s five minutes?’
‘In relation to?’
‘You know.’
‘If there’s still time, tell me what you mean by I’m nowhere at home.’
‘Look.’
‘Look.’
‘We’re here.’
The missile had flown straight into the middle of the car park. The shock wave scattered cars around the edges and formed a metal wall out of them. The walls on the side of the building facing the car park have disappeared and the building has tipped onto its side. There are flames everywhere. The smoke is white and thick. A few people, naked and hairless, stagger around over the cracked concrete. Their eyes radiate a greed for life. No blood to be seen. Their bodies are intact.
Kras, Evan and Zoja get out of the car and look around. Silence lies over everything. No one dares speak. A crumpled-up black car rolls off a pile of other cars and lands on its roof. A naked couple crawls out of it. Pleasure has narrowed her pupils. Her hands hang freely at her sides. The boy gets up, pounds his fists against his chest and roars. The sound rattles the scene. Like an echo, one hears the roaring of a tiger from the opposite side of the car park. Courage is in the air. Courage.
‘He isn’t coming?’ asks Evan.
‘Who?’ asks Zoja.
Kras returns to the car and pulls a whirl of smoke to himself. The door opens.
Zoja gets weak in the knees.
A muffled scream resounds over the car park. At the foot of a building a huge rock moves and reveals a dark hole. Out of it, into the white mist, steps the outline of a naked young man with a heavenly body. He turns and looks back to where he came from. There’s a hazy tattoo on his back. Swearing nastily, he gives the finger to the darkness. He moves backwards from a pile of crushed gravel and almost keels over. As he catches his balance, he looks towards the limousine.
‘Zoia?’
He breaks into an easy jog. His face is obscured, so no one knows whether he poses a threat. Evan takes a step back, Kras steps in front of Zoja.
‘Zoia?’
‘Hi.’
He stops in front of them and puts his hands on his knees.
‘What a load of crap, Zoia. I’ve had enough. Totally enough. So that’s it, no? We’re dead. We’re all dead. I know, don’t you dare try to tell me we aren’t. Because if you say we aren’t, I have no other choice than to believe you. And if I believe you, then I’ll have to, as soon as possible, find a way to kill myself. Because this is too much. If there’s anything that’s too much, it’s this. I just saw them eat my brother. Can you imagine? Can you image that I would ever say that sentence out loud, without lying? That the meaning of that sentence would ever be completely bound to the truth? I saw them eat my brother. And he let them do it. He spoke of Osiris and cats and Bacchus and Christ when he put himself into their mouths. He said they’d stay alive because of him. That, compared to his, your wonders are fairy tales. And they believed him. They rushed him, I just watched. He laughed as they devoured him, Zoia. We’re dead. And this hell is unacceptable. This hell is unacceptable. I don’t feel any different. Nothing’s changed. This is unacceptable, Zoia.’
‘Where is Marjorie? Anwar? Did they stay inside?’
‘Go inside and take a look at those bloody lunatics. This hell is an unacceptable one, and even if I talk about it this fact doesn’t change. What kind of sentences are these? How could anyone expect to get by with these sentences? You read your stuff, you see, everything was still all right, that was still bearable, you read and when you turned your back to us, even that was all right, that I accept, it’s your artistic prerogative, to turn any way you want, I have no problem with that, but then everything became completely not all right and very, very wrong. Somebody I only later realized was my own brother – can you imagine? – climbed on stage and made for you, for your back, with a knife in his hands, and he stabbed you as hard as he could
and we all cried out and he stabbed you, stabbed you right there, in front of all of us, my own brother – can you imagine? – never in a thousand years would I have expected something like that, it’s true, my brother was always a little weird, but that sort of thing, and you collapsed on the floor, but, and this was the weirdest thing of all, you see, how should I accept that, how should I even imagine that nothing I’ve said till now was the weirdest, but the weirdest thing was that it wasn’t even you up there but some stranger, some complete stranger, I know, because I looked her in the face, when you collapsed, when she collapsed, and the people were screaming, but I just stayed silent, because it was entirely obvious, suddenly, that this was no longer real, and that there was no point adding my bodily sound to that stupidity, so I fell silent and I would have liked most to close my eyes if I hadn’t then slowly come to understand that the man who stabbed you, who stabbed her, was in fact someone I know very well and with whom I spent a considerable part of this foolish existence together and for whom in the right world my feelings would come out and I would try somehow to change or I don’t know what, I mean, what are you going to do, you understand me? This is unacceptable. This you just can’t accept. As a matter of fact I don’t even want to hear what you’re going to tell me. I am just saying this out loud in order to convince myself of how stupid it all sounds. And then from one side of the stage some idiot with a guitar came running and started hitting him with it and from the crowd of people that, gradually, like some sort of retarded earthly slide, moved closer to the stage, two beasts jumped out, angry, two truly livid, tough motherfuckers, huge, twenty-three and a half stone each, rushed him so that the air was crackling with static and all our hair stood up. How stupid it all is. I can’t believe that happened in my head. Why did that happen in my head, Zoia? No, don’t say anything. Then there was a loud bang and a flash over everything, utter darkness, utter silence and I had just enough time to thank the emptiness that finally cut short that madness before the fire came. Fire, Zoia. Waves and waves of fire, one after another and with each wave the people cheered like they were at a stadium, but in the blinding sunlight that the flames washed over us, in the endless hot flames, we all remained unscathed. Unscathed, Zoia. Our clothes were singed and our hair was singed, look at my eyelashes, can you see them? No. They’re gone. I no longer have any hair on my body. But look at me. Touch me. No, you don’t have to. Do you see me? Do I seem alive to you? This is unacceptable. The pipes cracked open and the water rushed over us, immediately there was steam all over the place and vapour and sweaty naked human bodies, and Anwar stood up and shouted that we should all drink water, bloody fool, who cares about water at a time like that? But he cupped his hands under the jets and drank long gulps and a few followed him because, what can you do, the people were completely lost, whatever line of sense that might come upon them at that time would find followers, no matter what kind of a line it was, and that’s why they probably also listened to Jerry, who found himself alone on stage and immediately exploited that mental void, that chaos, that collapse of everything that was normal, and started to scream that he now had come to earth to save humanity from death, bloody lunatic, oh that bloody lunatic, Zoia…but I’m crying? Am I really crying? You know how long it’s been since I cried? This is unacceptable.’
In/Half Page 34