Ольга Токарчук - Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead

‘In truth, the dearly departed’ – at this point he made a gesture, as if trying to cross himself – ‘was a good friend of mine – we had many shared interests. He was also a keen mushroom picker, and I’m sure he would have joined us this year. In truth, he was a very decent man, of broad horizons. He gave people jobs, and in truth, for that alone we should respect his memory. Jobs don’t grow on trees. He died in mysterious circumstances, but in truth, the Police will soon get to the bottom of the case. In truth, we shouldn’t let ourselves be terrorised, or give in to fear. Life has its rules, and we cannot ignore them. Courage, dear friends, my lovely ladies – in truth, I’m all for putting an end to the gossip and groundless hysteria. In truth, we must trust the authorities and live according to our common values.’ He spoke as if he were a candidate in a forthcoming election.

I couldn’t help thinking that someone who overuses the phrase ‘in truth’ is sure to be a liar.

The people at the meeting went back to their chaotic debate. Once again someone brought up the topic of the beast lurking in the countryside near Kraków last year. Was it really safe to hold the ball in the firehouse, right at the edge of the biggest forest in the area?

‘Do you remember how the television followed the operation run by the Police in September to catch the mysterious animal in a village near Kraków? One of the locals happened to have filmed a predator on the run, probably a young lion,’ said an excited young man. I thought I recognised him from Big Foot’s house.

‘Nah, you must have got something mixed up. A lion? Here?’ said the man in khaki.

‘It wasn’t a lion, it was a young tiger,’ said Mrs Merrilegs; that was what I called her, because she was tall and nervous and sewed very elaborate costumes for the local ladies, so this name suited her best. ‘I saw the pictures on TV.’

‘He’s right, let him finish, that’s how it was,’ the women said indignantly.

‘The Police spent two days searching for that lion or tiger, that animal – they used helicopters and an anti-terrorist brigade, remember? It all cost half a million but they never found it.’

‘Perhaps it has moved here?’

‘Apparently it could kill with a stroke of its paw.’

‘It bit off heads.’

‘The Chupacabra,’ I said.

There was a silence. Even the two Woodcocks fixed their gaze on me.

‘What is a chupacabra?’ asked Merrilegs, sounding alarmed.

‘It’s a mysterious Animal that can’t be caught. A vengeful Beast.’

Now everyone was talking at once. I could see that Oddball was getting flustered. He was rubbing his hands, as if about to leap to his feet and strangle the first person to come along. Plainly the meeting was at an end and nobody could possibly restore order now. I felt rather guilty about bringing up the Chupacabra, but so what? I was conducting my own sort of campaign too.

No, no, people in our country don’t have the ability to club together to form a community, not even under the banner of the penny bun. This is a land of neurotic egotists, each of whom, as soon as he finds himself among others, starts to instruct, criticise, offend, and show off his undoubted superiority.

I think in the Czech Republic it’s totally different. The people there are capable of discussing things calmly, and nobody quarrels with anyone else. Even if they wanted to, they couldn’t, because their language isn’t suited to quarrelling.

We got home late, and in a stew. Oddball didn’t say a word on the return journey. I drove the Samurai via short cuts, down tracks full of potholes, and I enjoyed the way it kept throwing us from door to door as it jumped one puddle after another. We said goodbye with a curt ‘See you’.

I stood in the dark, empty kitchen and sensed that I was just about to be seized by the same thing as usual – weeping. So I thought it would be best if I stopped thinking and did something. To this end I sat at the table and wrote the following letter:

To the Police

As I have not received an answer to my previous letter, although according to law every public office in the country is obliged to respond within a period of fourteen days, I am forced to repeat my explanations concerning the recent, highly tragic incidents in our district, and in so doing to present certain observations that cast light on the mysterious deaths of the Commandant and of Innerd, owner of the fox farm.

Although it looks like an accident while performing the dangerous job of a policeman, or perhaps an unfortunate coincidence, one does have to ask if the Police have established WHAT WAS THE VICTIM DOING AT THAT TIME IN THAT PLACE? Are there any known motives, for to many people, including the undersigned, it seems extremely odd. Moreover, the undersigned was there on the spot, and found (which could be important to the Police) a vast number of Animal prints, especially the marks of deer hooves. It looked as if the deceased had been lured out of his car and led into the undergrowth, under which the fatal well was hidden. It is highly possible that the Deer he persecuted inflicted summary justice.

The situation of the next victim looks similar, although it won’t be possible to confirm the presence of any footprints after such a long time. However, the dramatic course of events can be explained by the form of death. Here we have a situation that is easy to imagine, where the victim is enticed into the bushes, into a spot where snares are usually set. There he falls into the trap and is deprived of his life (as to how, that would have to be investigated).

At the same time I wish to appeal to the gentlemen of the Police not to shy away from the idea that the perpetrators of the above-mentioned tragic incidents could be Animals. I have prepared some information that casts a little light on these matters, for it is a long time since we have had cases of crimes committed by these creatures.

I must start with the Bible, in which it is clearly stated that if an Ox kills a woman or a man, it should be stoned to death. Saint Bernard excommunicated a swarm of Bees, whose buzzing prevented him from working. Bees also had to answer for the death of a Man from the city of Worms in the year 846. The local parliament condemned them to death by suffocation. In 1394 in France some Pigs killed and ate a child. The Sow was sentenced to hang, but her six children were spared, taking their young age into consideration. In 1639 in France, a court in Dijon sentenced a Horse for killing a Man. There have been cases not only of Murder, but also of crimes against nature. Thus in Basel in 1471 there was a lawsuit against a Hen, which laid strangely coloured eggs. It was condemned to death by burning, for being in cahoots with the devil. Here I must add my own comment, that intellectual limitation and human cruelty know no bounds.

The most famous trial took place in France, in 1521. It was the trial of some Rats, which had been causing a lot of destruction. They were summoned to court by the townsfolk and were appointed a public defence counsel, a quick-witted lawyer named Bartolomeo Chassenée. When his clients failed to appear at the first hearing, Chassenée petitioned for a deferment, testifying that they lived in wide dispersal, on top of which many dangers lay in wait for them on the way to the court. He even appealed to the court to provide a guarantee that Cats belonging to the plaintiffs would not do the defendants any harm on their way to the hearing. Unfortunately, the court could not provide any such guarantee, so the case was postponed several times more. Finally, after an ardent speech by their defence counsel, the Rats were acquitted.

In 1659 in Italy the owners of vineyards destroyed by Caterpillars submitted to them a written summons to court. Pieces of paper with the wording of the summons were nailed to trees in the area, so the Caterpillars might become acquainted with the indictment.