I also found some members of my congregation on the list. They included Brother Kodet who always used to smile at me so affably — just as he still does.
When I'm home alone
I finish a prayer
and cold wafts from the windows
my stove is old
I open its door
and in the flames I see
those dear faces
I shall see here no more
my first wife Dad
and now Mum as well
I listen to their silence
until the fire goes out
and I'm left alone
in the cold again
Yesterday I shouted at Hana because she wanted me to take out the rubbish when I happened to be writing my sermon. What's the point of preaching about God's love when I'm incapable of showing kindness to those nearest to me? We talk together so seldom nowadays. Maybe it's tiredness or not having enough time. Or my inability to be intimate? We have nothing to conceal from each other, at least as regards our behaviour. But at the same time it's as if we avoid mentioning anything fundamental about our lives. As if we never manage to stumble our way to it.
It took me almost a year before I could bring myself to tell her about finding Dad's name on the list. Whenever I am overcome with doubts about what I'm doing or what I believe, I never mention it to Hana. Maybe things that are fundamental to me she doesn't find important. She wants the children to be healthy and she's always dashing from one doctor to another with Magda on account of her eyes. Marek used to suffer from tonsillitis a lot when he was small and she'd get up and see to him several times a night, and the same thing with Eva whenever she was ill. She'd no doubt get up on account of me if it weren't for the fact I'm rarely ill. She treated my mother as if she were her own, particularly over this past year when Mum had become infirm, helping me to care for her as much as she possibly could. She brings the children up impeccably, to be hard-working, polite, truthful, modest and say their prayers. The children are the most important thing in her life. And I'm the next maybe. She makes sure I've got clean clothes to put on, that I'm never hungry, that I have a healthy diet and that I feel contented. She knows I love music and suggests we go to concerts together, even though she always falls asleep. If she sees me studying some book, she'll ask me what it's about, in the same way that she asks me what we talked about on the ministers' course. When I start to tell her, she hears me out but I get the feeling that she's not taking it in, that she just grasps individual words and sentences. The substance of what I'm saying doesn't interest her, it doesn't concern her, or it concerns her only on account of me. She is pleased when I like something and is distressed when I am distressed, even though she may be unfamiliar with the causes — so I quickly change the subject to something more familiar to her.
Jitka and I were in love with each other, body and soul. I love Hana
and am grateful to her for always having shared the good and bad with me, and there were more bad, or at least difficult, times than good ones. Maybe it's all inside me: maybe I'm incapable of awakening in her what is concealed in every human being… Or maybe I'm incapable of awakening it in myself. Maybe I lack experience of women. Jitka's death took me unawares. It's as if it thrust me into some enclosed space that I couldn't get out of, not even when I met Hana, not even when I was already living with her. Maybe we got married before we had a chance to cross the barrier that separates people from each other, to discover true intimacy.
In the absence of intimacy — the ability to confide one's most secret fears or the thoughts that scare one and that one is reluctant even to admit or put into words for oneself- love wastes away.
It looks as if they'll be releasing Petr on probation next week. So his lawyer tells me, at least. Petr is in a state of agitation about it. The last time I visited him he promised me he would start a completely new life when he came out. Steal? Never again, Reverend. I am a different person since you baptized me. Whoever is in Christ is born anew. . What is old has passed. That's how you told me it, wasn't it? He has a good memory for quotations and the ability to smile like a little boy. He looks the very picture of innocence. I praised him and told him I was pleased with him, and that Jesus was sure to be pleased with him also.
I am aware of being proud of having possibly turned one person aside from the path that led to self-destruction and evil in general. I remind myself that I am at best only the intermediary, but we're not entirely responsible for our feelings. I even mentioned Petr on television when I was invited to do a religious broadcast. I gave him as an example of how one ought not to condemn anyone out of hand. Whenever we reject people on grounds of prejudice, as many reject not only those who have transgressed in some way, but also all Romanies solely because they are different, we banish them to where they can be the butt of our judgement and censure. Conversely, whenever we are able to accept and trust, and support what is good in people, we reduce the level of social evil.
An extremely vivid dream. I saw Dad standing as if in a pillory. He was naked and he had a barrel stuck on his head. The barrel was transparent so I could see that he was bleeding from the temple. Then a uniformed guard appeared and struck the barrel with a long stick. Dad started to sway and then fell down dead on the ground.
When I found his name on the list, I was determined to investigate all the circumstances. To find out whether it was a mistake, a police forgery or Dad's attempt to ease his lot somehow. Only by then he was dead and apparently no one else has the right to check the facts of the case. Maybe I should have done a bit more investigating off my own bat, but it would have taken up too much time and I had so little of it to spare then. I was also afraid of what I might discover. Now it occurs to me that what I feared most was discovering the truth on account of Mum. Could I tell her at all? And could I keep on visiting her and not tell her? But now she's dead it's only myself I'd be sparing. I have asked Dr Wagner to advise me what action I might take in this matter. One is obliged to bury one's relatives with all possible dignity, Antigone knew that a long time ago.
3
Daniel invited Petr to dinner the day after his release. Alois, whom he had also invited, welcomed Petr with a hug, Hana even kissed him. Yet whenever the conversation at table turned to prison she would quickly change the subject. She wanted to protect Magda at least from such talk. After dinner she preferred to take her out of the room.
After they had gone, Alois voiced a thought that he had apparently been mulling over for some time. 'There's a difference. Petr stole and they released him, Jesus was innocent and he was crucified.'
'I'd rather not compare the two,' Daniel interrupted him.
'All the same, what you were saying in your sermon on Sunday about Pilate offering the Jews the release of Jesus, I found that a bit odd.'