Jáchym Topol - City, Sister, Silver

What’re you screamin, for God’s sake, what? You donno how to sleep, said Černá. No, you don’t. Either you grind your teeth or but now you were even screamin!

Sorry. If you knew what I dreamed though, hah! You’d be amazed!

Did the gentleman fly?

Yeah, actually no … it was a lot different this time. An it told me. See, you crawled into this hole an …

Yeah sure, listen. I practically didn’t sleep. Or else it was a dream. It was really weird. Listen, I got woken up by this awful din, this ruckus. Like machines, you know? I donno, I think I was awake, an it came from underground. I tried to wake you. The earth was shaking. Like there was some airport or factory or somethin underneath us. I walked around a while an then I went … she pointed to where the grassy plain sloped downward, I listened and it sounded familiar … over there, I wasn’t even scared, I kept lookin to make sure I could see you … an there’s a gorge there, man, I lie down an look, an there’s these little carts flyin around, an the people pushin em were totally emaciated, down to the bone, horrible … an in the side of the gorge were these metal doors with guards out in front … an there was this racket from inside, an this light like they were meltin down iron or whatever … the people had on these suits striped like zebras, but you know … that was enough for me, I got outta there, metal doors … there was ivy or somethin all over em, an it was rolled back. I donno if it was a dream.

Well … Černá, if you want, after the obligatory morning grooming … we’ll go take a look.

Yeah, let’s. Go ahead, there’s this little stream over there, past the trees, go wash up. I’ll wait, I already went. An … be back soon.

Her dream reminded me a lot of another one, is it logical, is it magical, is it at all? I jabbered to myself … Josef Novak the skeleton, I’ll never get rid of my dreams … underground death camp … there was the brook, I knelt down, bathing my fingers … well, Černá said to wash up … my fingers carved a furrow in the water, just for a moment, then the two streams merged, the water coursing over stones and pebbles, along and above the sandy bottom, stubbornly flowing into the unknown, always the same and ever changing … repeating itself and changing, goin somewhere, like speech and like time.

I stood up, took out my knife, and for the last time snapped open the blade, hah, I said to myself, this’ll fool em! I just won’t defend myself, I won’t be part of it … churi des, churi hudes, not anymore.

I tossed the knife into the stream and the water closed over it. It’s so simple, I thought, after all, I had that dream … about the tribe, we were five and I’ve got five senses … is it nonsense?

We were five, an if my sister is death, I don’t exactly hafta love her, but I can learn to live with her till the end. Death can’t suffer after all, death is scar-free … I’m gonna trust her. We’ll make it somewhere.

I was in a very humanistic mood when I sat back down on the stump next to Sister, smiling and saying: honey this, honey that … unlike her I had a hunch she hadn’t been asleep last night … I sang my good knife a little farewell tune … Černá pulled a package out of her jacket … imbued with benevolence and Saint Francisness, I gazed caressingly on every crawling bug and spider … my knife won’t threaten them ever again! Churi des, churi hudes, not anymore! … Černá slapped a mosquito … I frowned a little … but I had to get up and adjust my belt, the pistol was digging into me.

Hey, look what I got! I mean we.

What? Food … good woman!

Yeah … where’d I … swipe it, I don’t even know, I don’t get it … I mean I stuck a piece of … mortadella! … in my pocket for the trip. An now there’s a whole dead naked chicken … incredible! Did it ever occur to you that maybe we’re under a spell an what happened didn’t happen?

Occurs to me all the time, little sister … but try … I pinched myself hard … only pain is real.

An pleasure, said Sister. You want?

Yeah. Like a wolf.

We munched the chicken, it was so defenseless! grinning at each other and tearing the flesh from the bones, nibbling them clean, ripping out the veins with our fingers, just like kings.

So maybe, said Sister. We can go take a look. If that gorge is there?

We don’t have to, it’s there. I know it. I saw it, this fella, what I mean is, let’s just say I was advised it was there.

But shouldn’t we report it? To the police, the UN, UNESCO, I donno.

What, that your new dream confirmed my old dream?

They’ll come, take a peek …

You know how that goes.

You’re right. Let’s go, on your feet!

We struck out, refreshed and fortified, pores prosperously opening in the wind and the grass … we didn’t talk about what we’d done to those people. All in good time.

Though we remained on the alert, Gretel here and there climbing a tree, ripping a hole in her jeans, and me occasionally dashing off, looping through the woods, somersaulting through the grass, and relishing the open air, the trip proceeded without any further incidents or encounters.

Just once … far off in the valley, we saw some wagons riding single file, wooden wagons roofed with canvas, pulled by horses and mules, circled by men on horseback … those’re covered wagons, Sister, maybe there isn’t a train around here … no, they must be evacuees, hey look, there’s little kids in em too … who’s movin, I wonder, an where? … always somebody goin somewhere, big whoop, Sister said wisely … we also saw mountains in the distance … sparkling in the sun, maybe it was the air, maybe there was a storm over there, some of the cliffs glowed phosphorescent green, or swam in the blue of the distant sky … on top the snow glittered, if we’d been closer it would’ve hurt our eyes … I stopped, suppressing a howl with all my might … some day we’ll go there … yeah, an how bout the sea, said Sister, or both?

Both, get this, one time I met this Greek girl from Cyprus, maybe she was Turkish, but she told me that on their island you can ski downhill right onto the beach! Now, though, it’s all wired off, she said.

Maybe later, Sister suggested.

I can tell you wanna go, an that’s fabulous.

Of course, said Sister, kicking a stone … Odysseus preferred to be off fighting with Agamemnon an Menelaus … maybe you too?

Oh, not me, my dear, I’m exempt from the service, you know that, an besides, war …

And surely, Brother, you also know the first part of the Odyssey … where he made like he was crazy, threw his son in front of the machine … then he ended up likin the army, that was his son, but the two of us … you the brother, me the sister … I just laughed, because she didn’t know about my wolf dream … I hadn’t told her yet, all in good time, I thought back then.

In the dream we had babies.

BYTHE OLD WALL. IN THE HALL. GUYWITH A BRICK. BY TRAIN. AND ONWARD, ELSEWHERE.

Eventually the road broke off and we were standing in mud and dust, broken glass and plastic bags at our feet, with a little town spread out before us.

There was a sign, UŠANICA 3 KM. We didn’t much notice the buildings or look for anything at all. Just the train station.

Maybe some little boutique, dear, after recent events, have a drink, splash off the dust, ramrod the blunderbuss … cracking jokes, we stole along the walls, wondering whether they’d found our victims and whether finding them had upset anyone enough to call in the commandos.

The station was different than I remembered from my last, fleeting visit. Ticket window closed, not a soul. Then some hobo surfaced behind the bars. Shove a thousand crowns at him and he says, Here in Mezilavorie* … huh? Usanica’s a good 70 miles due east, he explained. But the sign? Ehh, signs’re a dime a dozen! Trains don’t run much, but if we’re goin to Prága … there’s one comes through right at midnight, but he doesn’t recommend … it’s very, he said some word that might’ve meant expensive … doesn’t bother us … well, just so long as we don’t get confused and end up paying too much.