Александр Молчанов - KillerFoulkner

OKSANA. She said she’d give us two grand and we’d have to earn the rest ourselves.

ANDREW. What the fuck did you do? I’ll talk to her.

OKSANA. Talk to her then. Won’t do any good.

ANDREW. She fucked it all up. My mum didn’t approve of her. My mum’s already decided she’s got no money, so she can’t give us any. Can’t change her mind now. We went back to the house, and I asked mum to come out on the porch with me. I talked to her for two hours. I tried reasoning every way I could. No money. Of course. End of story.

MAMA. No money. And that’s the end of it. I didn’t ask my parents for anything after the age of fourteen. They shouldn’t expect it. Or they’ll never stop asking. And anyway he’s too young to get married. Hang out, yes, live together even. That’s fine these days. Or get married quickly and divorced just as fast. Or worse, don’t get divorced and live the rest of your life miserable. No money. Final.

OKSANA. I pictured Seka. So calm and collected, most of the time. Especially when he’s playing. When he’s playing, you have to admire him actually. He’s polite. He smiles. The game, by the way, it’s called Sueca. That’s just a coincidence — the name Seka doesn’t come from the game. It’s from his surname. Sekushin. Everyone gets dealt two cards. They look. Then they stick or they ask for more. Then they bet. Really showy bets. Lots of raising. It’s like this really precise Blackjack. More than twenty-one? Lose. Less than twenty-one? Lose. Only way to win is with exactly twenty-one. If it’s a draw, leave the money in and start again. It can go on for days. Seka once told me a secret. Why he always wins. When he’s got a winning hand, he hears music. Every time. Music — he raises. Silence — he folds. And so he always wins. No cheating, just… music. I wish he was here instead of idiot-boy.

ANDREW. She was lying in bed in my white t-shirt. Just looking at me. And suddenly she held her hand out, said «Come here.»

OKSANA. I guess I’m spoiled but — he had no idea about kissing or what to do with a breast. Like a blind puppy looking for its mother’s tit.

ANDREW. Man, she was so hot. I stroked her, kissed her over and over… but it just didn’t happen. When it came down to it, nothing down there. No idea why. Maybe over-excitement. I wasn’t even drunk so it’s not like… just my fault somehow, I guess.

OKSANA. Didn’t want it that much anyway.

ANDREW. She turned over, faced the wall, didn’t say anything. I sat in a chair and looked out of the window for a long time. Today’s been the worst day of my life. Met a girl. Fell in love. Could have had a chance. Totally blew it. And now it’s fucked beyond repair. If I could go over like Casanova, don Juan, whoever, do that husky voice thing, say «Hey Baby, let’s give it another try.» Then take her places she’s never been before. But actually I’d fuck it up. Hesitate. She’ll just be «Leave it out, Mr. Soft’

OKSANA. What’s limp-dick doing over there? Is he going to sleep tonight? I’m freezing.

ANDREW. Could have been a fucking amazing final night. Anthony and Cleopatra. Let tomorrow do its worst! When mum finds out she’s gonna regret hanging onto the twelve grand. That’s like a day’s takings. Sacrificed her son’s future for that. It’ll be in all the papers. I’ll be a symbol. A movie. That’d be fun. Or they might make me the bogeyman. If you don’t sleep, Dyusha’s gonna come chop you up. What’s in Maronov’s head right now? Probably fast asleep. No idea he dies tomorrow. Where’s the best place to stab him to just get it over with? Not the heart cos of the ribs. Stomach. But they say that really hurts. I don’t want to hurt him, just kill him. Maybe I just won’t go. Hide. Then Seka sends someone for me. Go to the police? Not going to work. Look at Kustov. He wouldn’t exactly give a shit. What’s he going to do, put an armed guard on me? Arrest Seka?

My white t-shirt was on the floor. I went over to the bed quietly, lay down next to Oksana. She was sleeping. Naked. Lovely. I looked at the back of her head, her neck, her shoulders. She was so close and so far and I wanted to just scream. I’d die for her. Or kill.

OKSANA. In the morning we didn’t talk. His mum gave us breakfast. Dry buckwheat porridge, coffee, or whatever she was calling coffee. Then she called me out onto the porch and gave me twelve grand. Said on no account give it to Dyusha, take it straight to the super. And get a room on the sunny side of the building.

ANDREW. Mum took Oksana out on the porch after breakfast to give her a lecture on something. I was scared Oksana was gonna tell her the truth. She didn’t have a reason to pretend any more. She can’t have, though, cos they came back looking happy.

MAMA. Well my loves. A long goodbye’s a sad goodbye. Off you go to the bus station.

ANDREW. And mum wiped away a tear. And another, she gave Oksana a hug, shook her fist at me. Self-righteous old cow. Bye then. Sorry I’m such a let-down. Don’t faint when you see me on the six o clock news.

OKSANA. I wanted to tell him about the money straight away but he just stalked off like he didn’t know me. Walked all the way like that, like I wasn’t even there.

ANDREW. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I couldn’t speak. I thought she’d just laugh, or give me shit. So I walked a little bit ahead and led the way back.

OKSANA. And it was like that all the way to the bus station. So I thought, let him sweat a bit. I’ll tell him when we get to the city. And give him the money then. Not like I need it. He asked me to wait when we got to the bus station, went into a trailer to but something.

ANDREW. Good thing I remembered. I left my knife by the road when we were hitching. I went into the trailer, bought a folding knife with a metal handle. Then I went into the bus station. She was lying on a bench by the window and all the old women were staring. She was looking at some old guy trying to use the payphone.

OKSANA. Clown. The payphone’s just hanging there with no handset. Gramps comes up to it, puts a coin in, tries dialling. He works out something’s not right. Something’s missing. Takes him five minutes to work out there’s no receiver. Then he walks back to his wife and sits down.

ANDREW. I wend to the counter. Bought us two tickets to Oskol.

ANDREW. What do you get for murder? Eight years minimum. At least twenty-seven when I get out. Best years of my life wasted. Then what? Nothing I guess. Live out my life somewhere quiet. Do penance. Lord forgive this sinner. That doesn’t work though, does it? If I know I’m sinning already, do it anyway, then saying sorry won’t cut it. If I know killing’s wrong already I shouldn’t do it. I have go tell Seka to fuck himself. Then he’ll kill me. Suppose that’ll get me to heaven. But if there isn’t one? Nothingness I guess. How come with all this science everywhere we haven’t worked out if there’s a heaven? Or found God? Maybe he’s quantum. Maybe science has been fooling us and it’s all total bullshit. You read about Medieval times and you think, ignorant fuckers didn’t know the Earth orbits the Sun. This is elementary shit. And the scientists that suggested it got burned. Thinking about it, where’s Giordano Bruno, then? Heaven or hell? What if, when you die, you just get stuck in the last moment you were alive? That’s shit for the people who got burned. I heard about a woman from Shichengi who set herself on fire. Just an ordinary woman, lived with her son. He finished school, went to college. She was on her own and went quietly mad, and one night she took a van of gas, went into the fields, poured it on herself, and lit a match. That’s probably… I mean you’re on fire, you’re burning, the pain is indescribable, and you don’t die, you want so much to die so it’s over, but you just keep burning forever. And then you die, and you wake up on fire and it goes on and on and there’s no hope. Bit different to a knife in the belly. Although that’ll hurt too. I mean the intestines and stuff, it can take ages. Better in the heart, actually. Quicker. But you need the skills to get through the ribs. Am I really gonna kill him?