Guy can’t handle it by himself, huh?
You donno beans! He’ll be with um right up till the end. You no, there’s no point. Well, he picked himself up. Quick and steady. Guy wasn’t drunk, he was just actin. I donno why. Hasta la vista, baby, he waved from the door. Then shut it behind him.
Another door that I thought I was the only one with a key to. I gave it a little kick. Kicked around the chair too. Slammed the table a couple times. Hard, from over my head, with both hands. Didn’t help much. I noticed he’d taken the bottle with him. Some slender bug was crawlin along the wall, killed him, left him there. Lay down on the bed. Then got up and opened the wardrobe. From bed to wardrobe, that was my path, about four steps. Behind the wardrobe the sink. And then the door, my den ends there. Then the world. It was a long trip to the toilet, all the way to the subway. Sometimes I’d dream about vitamin factories finally comin up with a food that didn’t make you shit. Mornings here my poetic states tended to be consistent: head empty, bowels full.
My wardrobe was full of disguises, threads. A box of calling cards. Interchangeable names and professions. Anyone who thinks they already know what they are suffers from a lack of imagination. And all the way in the back, several dresses and a jacket … women’s things, what remained of She-Dog. Some poetry books she was fond of. And a couple kerchiefs and barrettes … that was all I had left of her. That and my dreams.
It was beautiful when I’d find a hair of hers lying around every now and again. In a corner. In the dust on a shelf. All of a sudden on the ground when I got up in the morning. Blown there by some good wind. Hairs don’t rot. One of her kerchiefs I put on my pillow to carry me away. And fell asleep.
The buzzer woke me. I leaped out of bed, musta been night already. But I didn’t want to open the door, not anymore! I said to myself. I can’t … but the buzzing was steady, it wasn’t a signal, whoever it was was ringin nonstop. In my dreamy daze it occurred to me that if I opened the door, it’d be me standing there.
But you can’t think about these things or they happen. I tugged the handle and there stood Vasil with two reinforcements. Vasil was smiling.
Let’s go! Mother is waiting for you.
Vasil drove, the other two on either side of me in back, I guess to keep me from jumping out. An unpleasant arrangement. I looked to see where we were goin, crosstown, in total silence. Nighttime, not a soul. A couple bars with lights, but not a single Nachtigall flappin around.
Vasil knew the way, handling the machine with confidence, and then I realized we’d taken a turn out of town and were heading toward the pack’s old buildings. My new companions … Russians, I figured, both stocky, smiling. But there was something about them … somehow they were too neat. Suits, ties. Proud crewcuts. One even had a handkerchief in his breast pocket, they were clean, freshly shaven. Like they’d just stepped out of the bath. I smelled cologne. Peeked at their shoes: shiny, not a smudge. But the make was nothin much … bout twenty years behind, maybe more, I got an eye for this stuff. Unlikely gangsters. More like good-natured farmers … country bumpkins. Volga ship pullers died and gone to heaven. No river or ropes for them ever again. Muzhiks from Tuzex, I thought with a smile.
They smiled back at me, looking pleased. Smooth skin stretched taut over their cheeks, they were probably about forty but … not a single wrinkle. Weird people. Vasil stopped the car. We walked into the building. I was expecting to go to the pack’s flat … but Vasil veered off into the cellar. Vasil, no! I shouted, wheeling around. Behind me stood those two, politely smiling. No! I tried to shove past, but it was like they were made of granite. Vasil grabbed me by the shoulder, come! he said. Eto nado!
They dragged me down the stairs, and I walked the rest of the way on my own. Then I saw her. Sitting in a chair, back propped against the well railing. I walked toward her, something pulled me. Her eyes glowed out at me in the half-light, but I wasn’t afraid. It was the Great Mother.
I noticed another few … yokels around … Her face was broad and kind, a little swarthy, like in the photo. No extra color though. Neither old nor young. Her eyes glowed with … peaceful joy. She looked pleased to see me. All at once … I thought I saw … Micka, Bohler … it couldn’t be … I blinked, no. It was those peasants …
Where are your buddies, where are your friends? the Great Mother spoke to me. I knew what she was saying was just for me. I felt something like blissfulness, a caress, the voice was caressing me … like I was floating in a warm sea, bobbing in waves … where are the girls whom you were so fond of? Where is everyone, where have they gone? Vanished, scattered. Where are the little ones with whom you once played? Someone must be here still, you can’t be all on your own … did the water take them away, are they bound in wire, were they carried off on a train? There must be someone somewhere still. And your loved one … you wish to honor only her … you love only her … you would give your life for her … where is she … in distress? Alone? Frightened? In a house … on the street … lost in the forest? Perhaps she is all alone … in the dark … perhaps she cannot hear you … and perhaps she is you … where is everyone … why did it have to happen … and why is it always going on … the ball has gone flat, the sand castle has crumbled … the dragon has swallowed all of you up … you set loose the paper dragon, and for a while it laughed, for a while it fluttered on the string, and then it soared off into the distance, out of sight … and now it is returning from the heights … and it is a Monster and wants to devour … but I also have happy fairy tales … for Hansels and Gretels … that cottage, that was their mommy’s heart and they ate it … the heart of their mother … but mommy forgives them and takes them back … into her, into the earth … I am the Great Mother … and I will warm and soothe you all … you will be inside me and feel neither hunger nor fear … nor cold … I am the Great Mother … in me there is warmth, in me alone the sun shines … in me you will change, you forlorn little children … I am the Great Mother … and you, the children of change, Mother will gladden you and you will be children … safe and sound …
I think I didn’t hear or see anything else but the Great Mother’s voice and face. Her face, so beautiful … warm and splendorous … I walked slowly toward her, very slowly, so I could hear her as long as possible … and I knew all I had to do was nod and say: Okay! And everything would change and I could live in this feeling of bliss forevermore.
But … I looked into her face as I drew near … and saw her eyes and their splendor and felt myself wanting to sink into it, and then I saw her hair … her black hair, and jerked away.
It was the hair. It reminded me of my longing and brought me back.
I stood face to face with the Great Mother, about twenty centimeters away … and now … the face was toothless … ancient … the face of an old Gypsy soothsayer, she curled her lips and shot me a furious glance, and then turned her attention away from me.
She stood up and went over to Vasil. He was lying on the ground. The others … followed her. She grabbed him by the hair, speaking in Russian, rapidly, but I understood.
Liar, she snapped at him, fool, you thought you could run away from mommy, now I must punish you … she said more or less, it was a farce … and it was disgusting. Vasil lay there on the ground. You should know, the woman told him, there is nowhere for you to run … I went over to Vasil … she stepped back, everyone watching.