I waited till he shut the door, then pounded. Now I couldn’t turn back. I stood in a dark hallway between two metal doors. Just a chilly little light blinking over the last one. Looks like a bunker … I shuddered and pounded again.
Doctor! It’s me, Potok! He came to see me … little Kučera … from the well. If it’s just you in there, girls, open up, I don’t care anymore … Doctor …
The door opened, I don’t know how, he was sitting in an armchair in the corner. Vats, scalpels, flasks everywhere, water bubbling …
I see you. He said.
Now I knew why Montague had left so quickly. This wasn’t the voice of old Doctor Hradil, the clever Mohawk beast … this was the Beast itself talking … he stood up, I gazed into the flat gloss of his silvery eyes.
I reached for my throat.
He tore the cord with the scalpel off his neck and tossed it on the desk in front of me.
I know everything, the voice croaked. It’s a good thing you came. An don’t be afraid. I’m not like them yet … but I will be. It’s getting closer.
What about your girls?
He pointed to one of the vats.
Of course I could tell right away, I’m their father … I finished them off. They would’ve killed my other children.
That grating voice … broke. Or seemed to. He sat down.
I donno what force brings you here, old Potok, by the way you look ghastly, like some scarecrow or somethin, but you’re just in time. I tried … I know that one of my sons has to do it. I tried, but I can’t bring myself to tell them. I had em lock me in here so I couldn’t, you know … but I can already tell, another door or two, he waved his hand. Take this upstairs, he patted the silver scalpel … an one of em has to come, tonight. Tell him what he has to do. I know about Kučera, they’re … they were linked. The boys’ll get over it, you can explain. An you donno how sweet those daughters of mine were. Nobody knows. Now they never will. Marie and Anna were their names. They were … lovely, they were sweet girls. I donno why it happened.
I took the scalpel and carefully stuck it in my pocket.
Wait, said the Doctor. Look at this.
On the table sat a vat. Inside it a transparent liquid. The surface quivering. I could see through the smooth glass sides. The smell drifted over to me. It smelled good and I felt a great hunger. I wanted to touch the vat, clutch it tight. I knew this was what I wanted. I stood at the table. Doctor Hradil’s hand flashed through the air and the glass shattered against the wall.
Yep. That’s it, he said. I finally did it. You’re probly the only person who’s ever seen the Elixir. In today’s era.
Elixir? But …
This is the genuine stuff. But it’s made of … that. They’re in it. You wanted it bad, huh?
It was strong.
Again I inhaled the aroma. As it faded into the walls’ dampness.
Now go tell them.
Aright, M.D., I understand. I’ll tell em how to do it. An I’ve got a great sorrow inside me. For everything. Bye. I’m goin.
Tell them … to sort it out with the Vondráčeks somehow, put an end to it. It’s what I want.
If that’s what you tell em, they’ll do it.
Maybe. An one more thing … which one’s it gonna be?
Montague.
Montague! My favorite … why does it have to be him …
He’s the only one I know. An Doctor, surely you know the old Jewish joke. Why me?
Why not. Said the Doctor. But you’ve got it mixed up, that’s from the old Doctor’s Heap of Anecdotes … it’s the patient that asks … hah, well, same difference.
I guess so. Later then.
Yeah. Later.
I wasn’t in any hurry. First I told Montague okay, a bath. Climbed into the tub and instantly fell asleep. He shook my shoulder, the water was cold. What time is it? There was still time … Montague brought me some of his older brothers’ clothes … we torched that getup a yours … I felt a little jolt inside me … yeah, no big deal, I said … there were some papers too, my sisses read em … And? I was all ears … Well, Montague blushed, some of em said good an all … an some, he turned away … What? What’d they say?! Well, they were laughin. He handed me the pages, but I was in the tub, the poems got soggy, tossed em on the floor … Montague passed me the clothes … Here ya go, jeans, black … zip or buttons? Rivets, said Montague … Some dress shirt, green silk … World War II parachute, Montague alerted me … I nodded … the only T-shirt he had was one with Batman on it, whatever … tall leather boots … those’re my oldest bro’s, David’s … huh, who … David, you know, the one that stayed with the Mohawks … aha … want a cap, it’s yellow … not a chance! … here’s a dark green one … give it here! Next an excellent coat and a belt around my waist. All dressed up. And after what I’d been through at the Dump, deep down in my soul I began to consider myself a new man. You look a little like the old Potok, said Montague.
Then I gave him the scalpel. Told him. What he had to do. Left him alone.
It occurred to me in the kitchen that it wouldn’t be bad to stay a spell … if only for the sake of my tongue, on my last two stops I’d lost the habit of speaking normally … and some of my expressions weren’t at all appropriate around the girls … I felt for Montague, but maybe because of what I’d just been through … I was at peace inside, like fatalism or somethin … the daughters leaned over the fire, roasting a lamb … I felt a stab in my heart, Černá, where are you, I couldn’t stand the way one of the girls moved as she arched her back, carrying a pot, I got up … Montague escorted me out through the corridors, it’d floored him when he first heard, but now he was calm … he’d been through more than enough for his age, and knew the things of the box, he’d been able to answer the ancient question on his own … he locked the door behind me.
Again I was leaving somewhere … but not clearing out hastily, fleeing madly, slinking off in a fever … walking, with the city in front of me. Even fingered … my clothing a little, I was walking without Madonna, and I hissed through my teeth, I’m goin to see Černá, I’m comin to see you, my sweet … because if you’re dead, then I’ll make it through my time here without you somehow … dreaming of a woman … and we’ll meet afterwards, in eternity. It’s the only way. Walking, neither avoiding people, nor feeling the need to crash into them, walking … and then I saw the stone.
It spoke to me. Not that I heard anything, no talking stone. None a that mysticism. It just captivated me. A cornerstone, the kind they used to give buildings so the carriage wheels wouldn’t bang up the plaster. That stone was somewhere in my memory, something was going on … and then I glanced up, I was on that street. The street above the German Embassy, I was back at the beginning, from here it stretched uphill … it was after a rain, the air was cool … I saw roofs and house signs, there was the lion, I’d aimed here without even knowing it … I felt my hands and throat and breath again … and raised those hands … to clasp them … and then something hit me on the back, like wing-stirred air, I fell, and flew a while, and for an instant felt my skull, the bones, the walls of the depths, the bony walls of my world, and I fell on the stone headfirst. It hurt, and then it went dark.