I don’t very well recall how I grabbed her and shoved her into the armchair, how I squeezed her crackling neck and stared at her protruding eyes with malice; I don’t very well recall what it was I was preparing to get out of her. I looked at her like an executioner waiting for his victim to release his last breath, and I just couldn’t understand what was obstructing me more and more. Only after a few long seconds did I realize she was laughing, choking and suffocating in my grip, laughing soundlessly, and in the protruding eyes there was only a strange fascination and the smirk of a condescending, superior being. I let go, involuntarily wiped my palms on my pants, while she coughed, choked, and laughed, wiping away the tears that gathered in the drooping face’s wrinkles.
“So you’re still a madman,” she finally choked out. “Why, you’ll strangle me, Vytuk. And where will you put the corpse? You’re still the same; grab someone by the throat and don’t ask a thing. . Ask first! I’ll answer!”
“Where did you come from?” I was amazed that my voice was so weak and tired. “What hole did you crawl out of?”
“From the cheeriest house in Vilnius!” she announced with a strange joy. “Don’t you know it?”
“No.”
“Strange, everybody knows it — but not you.” She once more settled herself comfortably in the chair. “It’s the most important and most interesting house in Vilnius. . It’s the symbol of the city, its core. An infinitely BEAUTIFUL house, you just need to grasp its beauty. In every REAL city there is a house like that — sometimes open, sometimes hidden, sometimes it’s full of people, sometimes it’s empty and forsaken. But it’s definitely always there. . Come on, think about it, Vytuk, don’t tell me you don’t know? Once the Tsar’s Okhranka was in that house. . Then the Polish security. . Then the NKVD office — do you remember it was precisely there we separated?. . A house of miracles, a house of ghosts: have you noticed how easily entirely new inhabitants keep settling in there?. . Then the Gestapo was in it, and later still the NKVD again. And now the KGB. . Some come, some go, but the house still stands. . How many sounds there are in it — they’re in every brick of the walls. And how many smells! Someone should write a poem about it, a divine poem. But that would require a new Dante. . Vilnius will fall, but that house will still be standing!”
“What were you doing there?”
“What I’m still doing,” she said sharply and again stared at me wryly. “What do you think, what can I do? Always the same thing, Vytuk. . What works out best for me. . The very first interrogator talked me into it. He was almost refined; he even undressed me with his eyes politely. . I thought, two or three times should be enough. . but even two thousand wasn’t enough. . There were more and more interrogators all the time. . They put me into a separate, luxurious room. . Then they came in twos and threes, at whatever time of the day. . I didn’t keep track of the hours. . or even days. . or the faces. . or the uniforms. . I do the same thing over and over again, over and over. . I didn’t notice when the Germans showed up. Only the uniforms changed. . You say, the language? It seems to me they all spoke THE SAME language. Not Russian and not German, some language of THEIR OWN. The uniforms kept changing, and I tried; I did this and that, I sensed that in this way I’d accomplish something. They kept wanting more out of me, but I became absolutely necessary to them too. . More and more necessary. . By then it wasn’t they who were doing something with me, but I MYSELF started DOING something with them!”
Her voice softened, her face shone with a bright smile. She was changing in front of my eyes; it seemed something was driving a life force, an inner warmth, into her. She was becoming almost pretty, but she stank unappeasably.
“They need me, they can’t bear it without me! They can go without food or drink — but they won’t get by without me!. . I became important, oh, how very important! I’ve spread myself throughout the entire house; I’m everywhere, Vytuk. Year after year I spread roots in all directions. . They changed, but I stayed the same. . Together with the house. . We’re both unchanging; we two are eternal. It’s a pity you won’t understand WHAT I do in the most cheerful house in Vilnius. . You’re too weak, too primitive. . Or maybe? Maybe you have a hunch of WHAT your Irena used to do?”
I’d long since been short of air. I didn’t want to hear anything, to know anything. I was being pulled deep into a horrifying cave; its walls could collapse at any instant and bury me for eternity. I needed to run, but my legs had been taken away.
“I’m a queen, Vytuk, or maybe even a goddess.” I was no longer surprised to find that her voice had become melodious. “My roots reach everywhere. Our house is no more than a minor detail — they themselves are nothing more than little puny cogs, who don’t know what they do or why. . After all, the Gestapo or the KGB, Iran’s Savak or Haiti’s Tonton-Macoûte, they don’t concern us, or you. We both understand they’re nothing more than trained monkeys, who aren’t worth wasting time over. . We both know that only those who invented all of them, who contrived them, can be of concern. . You can’t even imagine how much I learned during those years upon years, learned without words. . even without thoughts. . I suck out their knowledge and secrets; come here, I’ll share it with you, I’ll teach you. Come here, Vytuk!”
She grabbed me again, the same way she always did, drew me closer; I couldn’t resist the inner strength that emanated from her — together with the hideous stench. She looked at me with her crooked irises and smiled indulgently.
“You little fool. . You’re afraid? You’re afraid of wrinkles, afraid of rags, afraid of the stench. . You see just the surface and you don’t comprehend the essence. . I told you, after all, that I’m a queen. .”
She began leisurely unbuttoning herself. I didn’t even want to imagine what I would see, but I didn’t close my eyes. I had seen the deformed joints and bones of insignificant little kanukai — so what sort of body could this one be! Many layers of clothes hid her body. She’d tear off one, another would turn up under it; she was something like an onion, and the smell wasn’t any less biting. At last she wriggled out of her clothes; I looked at the white body that was revealed and couldn’t pull my eyes away.
”Do you recognize me, do you recognize me?” she asked in a soft, trembling voice. “Come here, hurry!”
I couldn’t not recognize that body. It was my Irena’s body. Not similar, not just alike, but really her body, the body of the woman of the best years of my life. She knew I wouldn’t have the strength to resist. There was nothing I wanted — only to drown in it, to touch the rather small breasts and the mole on the belly that was as white as milk, to hear her voice once more. It was as if I were under a spell.
“You do recognize me,” the voice spoke gently. “Take me, come into me. . You’ll recognize me right away. . come inside me, I’m waiting. .”
I really did seem to be under a spell. By now I was standing next to her; I was already touching the smooth, cool skin with my fingers, fearing that Irena would suddenly disintegrate. At that moment I needed nothing more, I didn’t want to know anything more. It felt good. For moments like that anyone would give half their life. I missed only Irena’s face; it was in the shadows. I carefully grasped her fluffy hair, with the tips of my fingers caressed the earlobes I had not touched for so long. I gently pulled her head towards me; I tore it from the shadows. Into the vile dusk of the room appeared a wrinkled old woman’s face, greasy gray hair, and a craggy chin. Giedraitienė looked at me greedily and commandingly. I tore away from her hands as if she were hot iron, once again I sensed the boundless stench; it filled the entire room, the entire world. I felt my heart would jump out of my chest at any moment. She really knew what I needed. It’s nothing to defend yourself from exterior enemies. However, it’s almost impossible to resist when you’re attacked from within. It was hideous. It was unjust. They don’t pay attention to any rules; they stick needles into the softest, most defenseless spots. My feet carried me out by themselves. At that instant my running feet were all that was left of me. Behind my back Giedraitienė, the hellish monster with sacred Irena’s body and the disgusting, trembling head of an old woman, laughed hoarsely.