Forget it, an don’t get upset, laughed Spidey, but that was nothin, I coulda flattened you if I’d wanted.
Zat right?
Yep. You know it.
Aright then, bring in her stuff, huh. Do as you’re told.
Just as long as you clear out ASAP. I’ll call a car.
He walked out.
I know your address! I hollered.
You, my dear little Potok, pokin his head back in the door with her clothes, you I’m not worried about.
I yanked her things outta his hands and pressed them to my face, they were clean … and I felt strength in those important colors, Hunter, the Laoster, sprang to mind … and all at once I knew I’d track him down, no matter what Rudolf and Vohřecký were settin me up for, cause if there was one word of truth in that story about the mysterious general, I wanted to know … about him and his people, who cares if they used the Organization and lied to us, there was probly a reason, I wanna know … and I’m not the only one.
You might be surprised, Spider.
Let’s drop it, huh, he said. Maybe another time.
Fair enough. Shoes?
I stood her up on the towel. She sat right back down. Somehow I managed to dry her off. It took both of us to get her dressed, she was still loaded and put up a struggle. At least she wasn’t so bloated now. Her face was starting to come back to life. Even kept her eyes open a second or two, but her gaze was totally glassy. When it came to the shoes, I waved Spidey off. Tall boots like these call for delicacy. He had to hold her a minute as we dragged her across the room, though, while I performed a full-steam flying kick into the bottles, busted up a few. Stomped em to pieces. Spidey stared, exasperated. But kept his mouth shut. We put her in a cab. Careful with the knees.
Bye now, said Spider, take care.
Ciao.
We took off. I didn’t tell the driver the real address till after a couple blocks. My little sister was snoring a bit. It was tremendously cute. I made the vehicle stop its wheels and climbed in back. She slept, holding my hand. I didn’t even move. I didn’t want to wake her yet. That would’ve been nuts.
And it began. I could see she was a little scraped, so I rubbed her with ointment before she woke up. I was glad Jícha was dead now. Once upon a time this strong female ointment had belonged to She-Dog. Like everything else here. But it still smelled good, so I risked it. There were a few other tiny scars scattered around Černá’s body. It was weird … they were all almost exactly the same as the one on her chin. Sown at random, not in rows.
She threw up yellow foam. I was afraid it might be brain poisoning. But her breathing was regular. Then I noticed her hands were clenched in fists, and tried to pry apart the fingers, I could see the nails gouging into her skin. Guess it was her dreams.
I slept on the floor. Next morning she wasn’t on the bed, I never knew I could jump two meters high. From on my back. But then I heard water, she was standing behind the wardrobe. At the sink. She must’ve been amazed how clean she was. Černá, I said so she wouldn’t get frightened, and took the two steps. I guess thanks to the booze, she wasn’t fast, the pan just swiped my shoulder, and then I caught hold of her wrists and looked in her eyes and saw fury, the blanket wrapped around her body dropped, leaving her naked, I shut my eyes and let go, because this was it … you fuckin bastards, she hissed through her lips … they must’ve been swollen still … leave me alone aready, you beasts … Černá, I screamed, you got it all wrong! You can … I’m just askin you to stay, no one’s … keepin you prisoner, go if you want, but …
Who’re you?
My name’s Potok, you know me.
She tossed the pan on the floor, it made a clanging sound, we let it die out. I stepped away from the door so the way was clear … if she wanted, but I didn’t want to move in her direction unless I had to … and in that small space it was difficult. She stood by the bed, blanket on again, rubbing her wrists, I could see her body’s outline. She was more petite than I’d thought.
Got a cigarette?
It’ll make you sick.
I know. I’m … they call me Černá.
Like I didn’t know. Get dressed.
The blanket’s fine.
Over coffee we agreed that we did know each other. That we had absolutely definitely and totally positively been eyeing each other for a pretty long time.
You sang that time, that Tuesday night, or was it … Wednesday?
Yeah, you were sittin with some redhead. You were smokin!
Yeah, that’s it. But with … Táňa … she’s blonde!
Get out … I coulda sworn …
Well … hm … yeah, an you left with Pikna!
No, impossible … actually, wait, but he was just escorting me!
That’s it. An then at the coat check, you lost your jacket …
Riiight … so you were the one that had my ticket!
Ticket? … I donno bout that.
Ah, never mind. Anyway … I always liked you. How you’d look.
Really?
Why’d you close your eyes … back there by the sink?
I couldn’t take it.
I saw some a your plays. Way back when.
Yeah an … what do you think?!
Mm-hm … good. My head hurts.
I really love your songs. Want some pills?
Sure. What kind?
Are you hungry? What do you eat?
Our words … as we talked, merged. I didn’t know this voice of hers. We assured each other we understood. She wasn’t in the mood to go out. She told me Hadraba promised he’d hide her. Didn’t say why, guess she figured I knew, or that it was none a my business. And then … her face twisted in disgust. I didn’t tell her Jícha was dead. Didn’t bring up the sailor either. It was a little bit low-down of me, I know.
Being in a confined space didn’t bother us at all. We got to know each other. Breath is crucial for that. She didn’t know what was going on yet. I was filling the time till it hit her and she realized … She laughed and laughed. Still looked tired though. I clowned around … crawled the walls. She gave answers. Put my Chinese cap on and made silly faces, tried on some corset left from the whores … her body might’ve fooled me, but her eyes gave her away … I quickly realized she was a grown woman putting on an act.
I pulled out my photos, because the words were running out and the monumental silence after our initial mutual attraction was tearing up my insides … it was just like holy Sunday in the cultured Prague families of olden times … minus the Sacher tortes … she flipped through my collection of butterfly and mouse pictures, occasionally brushing a finger over the face of a common acquaintance. We debated back and forth what they might be doing in the new era … and from our confrontations, blathering, and disputations we came up with our best guesstimates … and not a single gesture of weariness in the flowing veil of her beauty escaped me.
Then I pointed out my assortment of caged hedgehogs and the various household enigmas of keys, hot plates, and so forth. I knew I didn’t need to show off with some kinda hotshot outlook on life, none a that manliness, masochism, or machismo stuff, not to mention political convictions. It wasn’t the next night I was angling for, but every night. And every day. She accepted me easily, like an open gate. We didn’t talk about it, I knew she was holding back. I was actually glad she was so wiped out from the booze … even her face. I could sense she was the one that I’d had under my eyelids ever since a woman’s face had first gone flashing past. I knew that She-Dog … was cleverly guiding my steps. From out there, wherever she was. If Černá had been standin here in all her nighttime beauty … I don’t think I could’ve controlled myself. This way we began the day slowly, her emerging from her hangover the way she had from the foam the day before. Then she said she wanted to lie down.