Nothin down there. Past that’s Bukovina. Galicia, ever heard of it? Hasn’t been anything down here for ages. Yeh, he waved to the north, you mighta run into the Milkman up there, useta be villages. Then the bolsheviks said they were buildin a dam an evacuated everyone. Never even built the thing, probly wanted to get rid a those people is all, bastards. May they an those engineers a theirs rot in hell. Understand, the Ruthenians’d been livin up there with their own customs forever. Bolsheviks came along an slapped their National Committees on top of em, but the Ruthies just kept on goin same as ever. Didn’t even learn the language. Eight villages. An they were self-sufficient. Well, you get the drift … when their power got cut off, they lit candles. Didn’t have fridges anyway. Didn’t give a damn. Only thing they ever came down for was vodka. Rather cook their own stuff. All that’s ancient history. Yep, they were Christians, you saw the crosses on the graves … but hey, in the woods around here! You watch your ass. An they all had shotguns, poachers. All the fronts rolled through here. Benderites* too. An there were partisans from the Uprising* here right up to the fifties. Started lockin em up after the war. It was all mixed out here. An that over there, the Cow Boss waved, that’s Lupkow Pass … mighta heard of it … not in the textbooks. Germans marched through once on their way into Ukraine, an once on their way out. What was left of em. Then the Russkies an then our guys. Sposedly an entire army clean disappeared. People saw em comin, they hid … oh yeah, they hid from all of em. With their cattle too. Just ask old Varhola! what it was like in the caves … an when they crawled out, not a soul. They say a whole army corps sank into the swamps, that’s a crock. You wouldn’t believe the stories the locals tell, things goin on underground. Not too many left though. Cops were still scared out here in the sixties. Only reason anyone comes out here now’s to escape. Yep an then … a dam, hah! Yeah, doesn’t surprise me the Milkman told you, that guy was obsessed. Churches all got blown up. Varhola says it was one a them, a Ruthenian, ran the whole thing. Then the Zmijak came an took him. Those’re the kina fairy tales they got out here. Say this Zmijak lives underground. My first few days out here I didn’t feel too good an I was drinkin a lot. An with all that talk a theirs, I saw him too. Know what helps? I mean if you’re not useta solitude an trees … an stuff. I picked that bush over there an got used to it. It was spooky at night sometimes, like a head. Like somethin. But then I got used to it an it was fine. An when it was a head, I’d say to myself, yeah, so? An it was fine. You don’t mind me talkin all the time? It’s a novelty havin someone around.
No.
You might think this is old stuff, but time out here is … preserved. You don’t mind me talkin about it?
No.
It suited Tomas that I liked running up the hill. He knew what it was like already. The cows did their grazing on the slopes above the hill, and when the dogs drove them into the corral the herder had to stand there and pay attention. Because some of those clunkers were so dense they would’ve just kept going. Once they’d bothered to start. I nearly fled the first time the herd came thundering down, all horns and hoofs … the cows’ bodies, the sun in my eyes, I was scared they would sweep me away, and Suka chasing after them, and Shorty … he was still learning, from time to time he’d catch a hoof and tumble head over heels, catch one in the skull … but he was a tenacious mutt.
Old Varhola gave me him … said he’d hafta put him under otherwise … know how I started out here? I come walkin up to the old man with my backpack on, lookin forward to the natural life, an the guy doesn’t even talk practically, just cocksucker this an cocksucker that … an, man, on a stump there’s a TV set. Runnin on batteries, nonstop. So I ask … what’s this yellow flower here, sir? … an he’s … cocksuckin yeller flower … an goes an kicks Shorty here in the head … I’m standin there like, aw no, this is what I ran away from … an then I find out, two days back the pooch stole his meat. So I go, that dog doesn’t even remember that now. An Varhola’s like: Whudda yew know, yew heap a dung! So I shut up. Shorty really is a thief, though. I don’t beat him, but the second I leave … he’s a goner.
I stood on the hill, stick in hand, for appearance’ sake … and the cows streamed past me, the first ones still at a dignified pace, then the middle of the herd, moving faster, and finally the last ones … Suka had fun rounding up the stragglers … and Shorty, what a clown … barking and snapping, rolling around in the grass … and the cows lumbered past me, snorting and snuffling … Git along, big girl, git along, little girl, ho there, Whitey, get a move on, Bessie, an you too, Sonya, ho there! ho! … and they rumbled past me, spotted and brown, handsome Mona and cunning Mordvina, little Bekta, and Beka too, lolling an eye my way and chewing … and chewing … cows, nice cows, git along there now … yep, cows don’t ask why, all they do’s chew, get wet when they’re expectin their bull, nothin against em though … beautiful cows … hola ho, go cows go, git, Mahulena, move your bones, Stáza, keep it rollin, Polka, Žveka … ho, hop to it, ladies, ur-Slav mothers … slide along now, Goddess, you too, Huna, ho Donna, let’s go! hey there, Okta, c’mere, Muna, I slapped the cow’s behind, she whipped her tail … into my eye, it was symbiotic, I was recuperating … leave her be, Shorty, or I’ll take a stone to you. I put myself in tune with the hillside to keep the cows from falling off. Shorty would’ve chased them over the side … and sometimes I had to close my eyes as the pain inside me melted … where is she? Traitor. And who betrayed who, I said to myself, and it was unbearable.
Where’s my gun?
On the shelf. Behind the books.
I gotta go.
You’re crazy! Potok … what’ve you got to look forward to? Elevators? Video games? Don’t be a jerk, there’s plenty of time. Got any cash?
No.
Then wait. I’m goin down for a week. You can take over for me, I was watchin yesterday. Suka let you pet her. So it’s cool.
What good’s a week?
I wanna have a drink. Go to the movies. An there’s a whorehouse in Usanica. That’s right, eight months now. Last winter I was up at this one chalet. An sposedly there’s girls out in Kysunica too, or whatever it’s called. Know anything about it?
No. Drop it.
When he left, I didn’t need to get used to any bush. I slept out by the corral, with the cows, it did me good.
I was totally empty, alone. And at night … after the beauty of the roundup I’d have dreams. They came to me from the valley. Every night, before I fell asleep, I saw the lights down there.
When Old Varhola went for supplies, Tomas gave me some cash and an old jumpsuit. A clean one.
I’ll buy the pistol offa you … sometimes wolves come out this way. From Poland. How bout it?
I want it. Only one left in it anyway.
I could come up with more. Well, have it your way. Later!
Thanks. Later.
And I left another way station behind. Now I knew where I wanted to go: to the place with the sign and into the cellar. I knew that the pile of coal wouldn’t be there anymore. But the old time might be. I’d lost Černá. I’m always losing myself, with each move of my heart. But the pistol’s cool butt kept my belly warm and I hadn’t forgotten anything.
Maybe if we had met each other sooner … back then in Berlun … when I first saw the end … stood next to death.
Černá, she’d been there too around that time, like lots of people I knew, hung around the same places as me. I asked her once what she’d done there. She laughed. What else … I sang, an stuff. Where at? Around. Maybe we saw each other. Yeah, maybe. I’d say I saw you there.
But the time we’d had together was so jam-packed that to ask all those questions … I just didn’t care.