The Ultimate Intimacy

'I don't consider you a layabout, do I?'

'But he does.'

'I doubt that even he does, really.'

'So what makes him say it?'

'I don't know. I don't know him. Maybe he just wanted to hit out at you somehow. The pain of a slap passes quickly, the pain of injustice lasts longer.'

'But tell me why, why he should want to cause me pain? Why?'

'Maybe he's jealous of your son.'

'Why should he be jealous of my child?'

'You give him love he would like for himself

'And don't you find that horrible?'

'It's human.'

And would you be jealous of my Saša too?'

'No. No one has the right to deprive another of his share of love.'

'I know. You definitely wouldn't torture me.'

'I've done all sorts of bad things in my time, but so far I don't think I've been cruel to anyone.'

'You've done lots of bad things? There is only one that I know of. Tell me, why didn't you come for me long ago?'

'How could I come for you when I didn't know you?'

'Exactly. You weren't interested in any old Bára. You happily left me to the mercies of a fellow who hurls steel rulers at me.'

'Don't think about it any more.'

'You're right. I'm sorry. Here I am with you and I spend the time talking about another man. Tell me, do you still remember your first wife?'

'How do you mean?'

'Can you still bring her to mind?'

'Of course.'

'Often?'

'It depends what you mean by often. Less now than years ago. But most frequendy I remember some situation when we were really happy or, on the contrary, when we hurt each other.'

'You're able to hurt someone too?'

'Such as when I didn't do something she wanted or didn't protect her enough. When we were going out together, we lived a long dis-tance apart, several hours' journey. There were times when I didn't bother to make the trip because I didn't feel like trudging all that way. And once — it was when she was already expecting Eva — she was summoned to an interrogation. And I let her go there and didn't even wait for her outside the office because there were other things I had to do. Whenever I remember that, I feel regret that I didn't stand by her then.'

But it only bothers you because she is dead.'

'Yes, I can't make up for it any more.'

'You can make up for it with the living.'

'I've tried to ever since.' Then he says, 'And you remind me of her.'

Do you think I resemble her?'

'No. It's more a sense of familiarity, a sort of intimacy.'

'It must have been awful for you when she died. Tell me, did it ever strike you as unjust?'

'It's not the business of death to be just, is it?'

'And how about God?'

'God is just, but his justice is not the same as human justice.'

'Do you think there can be two sorts of justice?'

'It's not the question of a different sort, but of a different dimension.'

'You believe in the fourth dimension?'

'I mean the dimension in which God moves.'

'When my sister died I felt it to be an injustice. Why her, of all people?'

'Your sister died? You didn't tell me.'

'It's ten years ago now. I don't like speaking about it.'

'She was the one who found you when you wanted to kill yourself?'

'I only had one sister. Katka was so kind to me. The kindest of all next to Mum.'

'What was she suffering from?'

'Nothing. She got into a skid when she was driving her car. For five days she was conscious and they just thought she would never walk again. Then she lapsed into unconsciousness. They kept her for six more weeks on a life-support machine. When they switched it off, that was that. When does the soul leave the body? When they turn off the machine, or before?'

'I couldn't tell you.'

'Do you think it's fair that good young people should die?'

'Good and bad people die. We all must die.'

'Yes. Ever since then I've known that I can say cheerio in the morning to someone I love and I may never see them alive again. Or they me. It's sad. It's a sad arrangement, don't you think so?'

'And how would you like it to be? How would you have life arranged?'

'I'd like to know I have a few days left. For living. For loving you.'

'You're sure to have.'

'How can you tell?'

'I'll pray for it.'

'You'll pray for me not to die yet?'

He nods.

'I prayed for my sister too, that time. But it didn't help.'

'Don't think of death any more.'

'You're right. Don't be cross with me. Here I am with you and I'm talking about death. It's just the mood I'm in. Tell me, will you lie

down with me, or are you in too much of a hurry?' She gets up and finds the door to the bathroom without difficulty.

He hears water running. It is most likely rusty. It has been months since he ran any water here. He was unable to forget his first wife. Particularly during the first years after her death. Maybe that was the reason he was never able to be completely close to Hana. He was grateful to his second wife and he loved her. But he was incapable of loving her like his first wife. It seemed natural to him, in fact, that one could give oneself fully only to one person in a lifetime. What is it that he feels now? Real love? Or has he yielded to some comforting self-deception?

When Bára returns she is wrapped in a towel, in the same way his first wife used to wrap herself. 'I took it,' she says, referring to the towel. 'It belonged to your mum, but she would have been sure to lend it if she knew I was here with you and I loved you.' Then she asks him to turn off the light in the room, but to leave the one in the lobby burning as she is scared of the dark.

They make love on the old ottoman that he still remembers from his childhood. 'My darling,' Bára whispers, 'I love it when you put your arms around me. You're so attractive: I love your mouth, your teeth, your eyes. They're a greyish blue like the Prague sky. If I didn't have you, if you hadn't come to meet me, maybe I wouldn't be living now. I need love to live and without it I'd die. Without you I'd die.'

She groans in ecstasy and begs, 'Save me. You will save me, won't you?'

'From what?'

'From all evil. From cruelty. From the world. From me. From death. You can. You can do it. You can do anything.'

'I don't have that power, sweetheart. But I love you.'

'There you are. You have the power of love.'

The light from the lobby falls on her face that seems pale. But her hair has a coppery sheen and her eyes are dark.

'I've already told you I'm not God.'

'One doesn't need God for love, though. Love is in the human heart. In mine and in yours.'

What time can it be? How did he come to be here? Is it a sin? Is he betraying those he loves? Is he betraying himself? Or, on the contrary, would he be betraying himself if he weren't here, if he had renounced this moment when the love he feels overwhelms everything?

She puts her arms around him. 'Tell me you don't mind I dragged you out at night.'

'I'm glad.'

"We've never been together at night before. And never the whole night. And we won't be tonight either. But I'd love to wake up in the morning at your side. At least once.'

'So would I.'

'Would you go somewhere with me and spend a whole day and a night with me?'

He looks at her and into her honey-coloured eyes, and she says, 'Yes, it's me!'

'I'd go with you for a night and a day and a night and a day and.. '

'No, you know yourself it will never happen. And besides, when you woke in the morning you'd notice I had wrinkles, you'd notice I'm old.'