The Ultimate Intimacy

And wine?' she asked.

'You can have wine too.'

He ordered them each a glass of wine. Not even her arms were tanned; they were just freshly covered in lots of freckles. He pictured to himself a hypodermic syringe and a needle puncturing that skin, heaven knows what kind of needle. The very thought was nightmarish — surely it couldn't happen to the little girl opposite, his little girl.

It was a fact that he seldom found the time to talk to his daughter,

to ask about her worries, her pals, to hear some of the things she thought about, what her concerns were, whether the poem she had shown him was her only one or whether she wrote verse more frequently, and who she showed it to. Admittedly he saw her every evening at the dinner table and at the Sunday service, and was endlessly giving her orders, making sure she prayed, taking note of the marks on her school reports and the names of her teachers, studying literary and general history with her, and even telling her about those things that were either deliberately omitted from the curriculum or lied about. But she herself was so unknown to him that at the moment when she clearly needed him, he sat here as if with a strange young woman. He was incapable of intimacy even with his own daughter.

'How are you planning to spend the rest of the holidays?'

'I expect I'll go and spend a week with Mum. And then Marek and I were thinking of going for a couple of days to protest against the Temelín nuclear power station.' She sat rather stiffly and answered him like a model pupil or a model daughter.

'I don't know whether that's a particularly good idea, whether Marek would be capable of protecting you if the need arose.'

'You keep on staring at me as if I've committed a terrible sin, Daddy.'

'It's not a question of sin, just the fact you could completely ruin yourself!' He knew about her failings, she didn't know about his. Which of them was ruining themselves more? What was more excusable, or understandable, at least? 'And I'd also like to know if you intend to give it up!' It was possible, or probable in fact, that if one deceived those around one, one influenced them even if they knew nothing about one's deceit. Because people who deceive behave differently from those who have nothing to hide.

'I wanted to tell you that it's not Petr's fault. He tried to talk me out of it.'

'Why are you always talking about Petr and not about yourself?'

'I don't want you to do Petr an injustice.'

'I don't intend to. But you must realize that I'm more concerned about you than about Petr. But while we're on the subject — am I supposed to be grateful to him for teaching you another bad habit?'

'He didn't start it. And he persuaded me not to inject anything. After I'd got hold of the hypo myself.'

'Where did you get it?'

'At school, of course.'

'But you haven't answered my question about whether you intend to give it up.'

'I already have, thanks to Petr.'

'Thanks to Petr, who in place of one bad habit taught you another?' He was having trouble suppressing his anger.

'Daddy, you don't know anything about it. Petr isn't wicked. On the contrary, he wants to help people. And he talked me out of speed because I might get hooked on it. Marijuana isn't addictive. And anyway I've given that up too. Down at Grandma's I only drank milk and ate vitamins.'

'What made you start it at all?'

'I just wanted to try it. I sold that sweater you gave me on account of it. Are you cross with me?'

'On account of the sweater?'

'It was a present from you.'

'To hell with the sweater,' he said, unable to control himself. "What made you go looking for the muck in school?'

'Because almost everyone in our class had tried it.'

'That's an exaggeration.'

And they also drink, smoke cigarettes and marijuana, and all of them have a steady. Almost all the girls have slept with someone,' she explained.

'But surely you don't have to do everything you see the others doing.'

'Not everything, but at least something. Particularly when. .' She checked herself.

'Particularly when your father is a pastor?'

'Everybody looks at me as if I was made from something else.'

'I regret that, but have you chosen the best way to prove you're made from the same stuff?'

'I chose the worst way — deliberately,' she said, with a sudden display of wilfulness.

'I have no doubt that it upset you the way the others looked at you, but I'm sure that they didn't all look at you that way. I'm sure that you had friends in your class too. So that probably wasn't the main reason.'

She raised the glass of wine and slowly sipped it. 'But I told you not long ago — the reason.'

'You did?'

'Emptiness.'

'Yes, I know. Emptiness at home with us.'

'And in myself.'

'I'm sorry. I'd hoped — I'd imagined that we were giving you something to fill that emptiness. More than some drug.'

That didn't fill it either. You just forgot about it for a while.'

'How?'

'You really want to know?'

'What do you forget about? The emptiness?'

'Everything. Yourself. That you're lonely, for instance. Speed becomes your friend. And I also felt stronger after it, that I could do all sorts of things.'

'What, for instance?'

'Be good at school. Be good to people. To love them. I had the feeling I'd be able to do anything I tried. Such as being able to carve a figure like you. Playing the piano the way you expect me to. And after grass, I had the feeling that time almost stood still, and that when time stands still you won't ever die. And I had this incredible urge to laugh at everything. I found that beautifuclass="underline" that I could laugh. And I thought up tunes and poems. Really, fantastic poems.'

'Did you write them down?'

'No, that seemed totally pointless. Why write? I was just happy I had thought them up.'

'Happier than you'd feel normally?'

'Differently. But without it I never have felt very happy anyway'

'I'm sorry to hear that.'

'It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. It's just the way I am.'

'Evička, you know yourself that it won't make you happy. And there's an awful price to pay for that brief moment of happiness.'

'I know, Daddy. I've already given it up. I really have.'

8 Letters

Dear Dan,

I've arrived safely with Magda and Marek. As usual, we are occupying the little bedroom at the top of the house under the roof. It has a beautiful view

of the countryside with all three ponds clearly visible. Such splendid peace prevails everywhere. And then in the evening I was watching television and they showed the hospital where they had just admitted a little girl whose arm had been torn off and other people mutilated in the conflict and I began to be ashamed of indulging myself here, and of taking an extra month off, and it occurred to me that I could offer my services to them during this month. Apparently they have a shortage of doctors and medical staff of any kind. What do you think?

It would seem only right to me, but I was mentioning it to Mother and Magda overheard. She leapt on me and started to waiclass="underline" Mummy, I'm not going to let you go anywhere. You'd get killed!

Magda is a good girl but she is incredibly lazy. When I ask her to pop to the shop for some yeast she looks at me as if I'd asked her to load a wagon with bricks. Today she slept in until ten thirty and was even astonished that I'd woken her. Yesterday a hornet flew into our room and she was so terrified she started to yell like a mad woman and crept under her bed. She stayed there until I had got rid of it. Marek, on the other hand, has mowed Mother's entire garden and whitewashed her pantry. Apart from that he has his head stuck in that thick book about the universe. When I happened to open it, I discovered some indecent pictures cut out from somewhere. I know there are nude pictures all over the place: on the television and on calendars, but even so, I'm disappointed in Marek. I haven't said anything to him, but perhaps you should have a talk with him and explain to him that it's not a good way to look at women. I know he argues with you sometimes, but you're the person he sets most store by. He'll be coming home in a few days' time as he wants to go with Eva to the protest camp near that nuclear power station. I don't know whether it's a sensible thing to do.