Alina Bronsky - Just Call Me Superhero

The truth is, I found it fun to shoot video. I zoomed in on the plates. On Friedrich’s greasy glistening lips. On Janne’s hand, which had wandered into the crook of Marlon’s arm. Looking through the display I no longer saw it as something that drove me crazy but rather as a thrilling visual motif. I zoomed in on Janne’s full plate. She’d eaten only the beans and cut off a tiny piece of her veal cutlet. It was the only plate that wasn’t eaten completely clean.

She’s anorexic on top of it all, I thought. Then I zoomed in on her fingers playing with Marlon’s arm, and my compassion had reached its limit.

I was so engrossed that I totally missed the guru’s lecture on what our collective purpose was here. I watched Janne’s face in the display. And it was clear as day that she didn’t like the sound of the plans. She wanted to stay at the villa. The guru said, no problem, then the others would be the only ones on camera.

Bull’s-eye.

I pointed the camera at the guru’s face. I zoomed in to get the little wrinkles around his eyes. He was older than I had first thought, and no longer as frantic as at the start. But he still didn’t look exactly relaxed, more like a nervous, tattered teddy bear. His lips were closed tightly and the corners of his mouth drooped. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he was just gone one morning and we found out that the rent for the villa had not been paid and all our valuables were gone.

I turned off the camera and sat down again at my place at the table. The platter of potatoes was empty. So was the pan with the veal. Friedrich, I thought angrily, and looked across the table at Janne’s plate.

“Are you finished with that? Can I have it?”

She pushed it across to me without looking at me. I ate it with her fork, which was still on her plate, and looked at her the whole time, until she shook her head contemptuously.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. You’re so young and yet already such an asshole.”

That summed things up perfectly.

There was a wood fireplace in the house but no dishwasher. So it fell to Friedrich to build a fire and to me to wash the dishes. We both protested, but the guru acted like a dictator and wouldn’t discuss it. He untied his apron and handed it to me. I took it and threw it on the table. Then I set up in front of the sink.

“It’s been ten years since I washed a dish by hand.”

“Then it’s about time.” He watched as Friedrich put a big, round log into the fireplace and pulled a long match out of the pack. It hissed, then broke off, and Friedrich dropped the box of matches and the long matchsticks went all over the floor.

I wasn’t sure if I would have done any better, which is why I didn’t laugh.

I let hot water run into the sink and dribbled in dish soap. Marlon was still sitting at the table. It was almost as if he wanted to watch me. The guru clicked his tongue in commiseration as Friedrich screwed up his fifth attempt to light a match and shoved a dish towel into Marlon’s hand.

“Help Marek dry the dishes.”

To my surprise, Marlon didn’t object. He came over and stood next to me, too near in fact, and I moved over a little. I put dripping wet dishes into his hand. He dried them and stacked them on the counter. The guru documented the cooperation between Blind and Deformed.

I dunked my hand into the warm foamy water and watched as Richard went over to the fireplace with a few sticks and a piece of paper. He pushed aside the nearly-sobbing Friedrich, kneeled down, and stacked the twigs into a sort of tent. Soon enough flames were dancing behind the glass doors, which Richard wiped clean with a damp cloth.

“Nicely done, Richard,” called the guru, and you could clearly hear the former kindergarten teacher in him. “Don’t worry about it, Friedrich.”

Richard gave him an annoyed look and the guru fell silent, embarrassed. Then suddenly a smile spread across Richard’s face. Behind me I heard the sound of Janne’s wheels on the wood floor.

“Are you cold?” asked Richard standing up to let Janne get close to the fire. She shook her head but did pull closer to the fire and stared at the flames. If she had stared at a lake the same way I would have grabbed her to keep her from jumping in. The guru turned the camera around. She straightened her shoulders and pushed a lock of black hair from her forehead.

Marlon had heard her, too. His whole body had tensed. I had the feeling he was vibrating.

“Will it take you much longer?” Janne asked him as if he were all alone.

He can’t see how much is left, I nearly said. Though he had probably been counting the plates. What did I know about how he perceived the world. What did any of us know about each other.

“We’re done,” we said simultaneously.

“Have you seen my room yet?” Janne asked Marlon. “Would you like to?”

“Yes,” answered Marlon, and then it got so quiet that we could hear the fire crackling.

I didn’t get a wink of sleep that night. I thrashed around in bed, threw off the covers, picked them up off the floor, opened the window, closed it again. I barely managed to sit still for ten minutes. My heart felt as if it were beating in my throat and threatened to stay there. I turned to the wall so I wouldn’t have to look at Marlon’s empty bed. The bedspread with the lemons and parrots was still on it, the pillow was still indented in the shape of the back of Marlon’s head.

Marlon was with Janne. The whole night. I forbid myself to leave the room and creep around the villa. To put my ear to Janne’s door. To storm in there and smash everything to bits. A few times I couldn’t hold back the tears and I cried for a couple minutes like a wounded animal — until I stuffed a corner of the blanket in my mouth. Outside it was quiet and I felt like the last human being on earth.

Marlon’s bag sat there still unpacked next to his bed. On his nightstand was an iPod with headphones. I couldn’t think of anything better than to throw it out the window. It smacked with a dull sound into the flowerbed.

An hour later I felt bad. I pulled on my pants and slipped out of my room. To get out I had to go past Janne’s room. The floor creaked under my feet. It was silent all around. Everyone but me was asleep.

I carefully pushed open the heavy entrance door but couldn’t keep it from closing behind me with a dull thud. I crawled around the roses beneath my window but couldn’t find the iPod. I looked everywhere, it was just gone. I laid down on the lawn and stretched out all four of my limbs. The grass was moist and the cold crept under my skin. I closed my eyes.

And opened them when the door closed again. On the steps stood Richard in tight sweatpants and a tank top. It was suddenly light out, too light out. I must have fallen asleep. I quickly shielded my face with my hands. Richard looked at me at that same moment. His legs, aside from his prosthetic, were knotted ropes of muscle. His long hair was held back with a headband.

“What time is it?” I asked from the lawn.

“Six-thirty.” He waved and set off. I struggled to my feet and stumbled up the steps.

The next person I saw was Kevin. His friendly face with the lurid lipstick was looking down at me.

“Don’t growl, it’s only me. Breeeeeaaaakfast,” he sang melodically and pulled on my blanket. I grabbed it, too, and held it on me. I didn’t want to be naked in front of him.

“Ten o’clock,” said Kevin. “Everyone’s waiting.”

He stood next to the bed, nodded his head, and looked at me as if he would only leave the room together with me. I pulled the covers up to my chin.

“Get out.”

“You’re welcome.” He stomped out, hurt.

I leaned my head over the edge of the bed and looked at the floor, where my dew-soaked clothes were lying. Then I looked at Marlon’s bed. There was a damp towel there now. His bag was still in the same spot but the zipper was open.