Jáchym Topol - City, Sister, Silver

No. Just a few.

Why did you take down that picture?

Huh?

I told her about the woman’s face, the picture I’d seen my first night. That upset her. She was holding a book she’d brought me, nearly dropped it on the floor.

So you saw her … no kiddin, yeah?

She ran out of the room. About an hour later returned … I tried to sit up straight or whatever … this was the first time I was seeing the other nuns, they had different habits … there were three, just one young one … and she looked strict … the two older ones had an air of kindness … they were ladies … I mean you can tell, whores or ladies, even when they merge, that was the sinful abomination that flashed through my bandaged head, I admit … Maria stood beside me, unpainted eyes not even blinking, apparently it was a serious moment.

They wanna know if you saw her besides the first night.

Yeah. Yes. Can you hear them?

Yes. They already taught me that. They want to know how you feel and whether your head hurts.

Tell them I’ve tried walking already and I feel fine. Just weak is all.

They can hear you. Wait a sec, she turned to them.

They’d like to see what you have on your skin.

You mean the dragon?

She blushed. I undid my pajama top, personally I’ve never owned any. Then I thought of something and froze.

So can they hear what I’m thinkin too? I asked Sister Maria.

One of the older nuns looked at me, smiled, and … shook her head.

Just in case, I said.

They leaned over me and inspected the Madonna. But didn’t touch me.

It seems weird me not seein a doctor, I declared.

They say you don’t need one. Not anymore.

Then they left us alone. Maria had already told me a lot about the order. But apparently she didn’t know that much herself. She said they came from Spain and that a lot of the sisters were South American. The first thing I asked about was the bells.

You see, said Sister Maria Coseta, you’re Catholic, I suppose … weelll, I said, I didn’t even mention that stuff about Bog, not me, I was glad to be there … the sisters feel themselves bound by their mission, so it’s just … the chapel where they assemble, the bell’s in there … uh-huh, I said, attempting to catch a pesky fly … they care for the Divine Child, the Baby Jesus, all through Latin America … the Indians worship it … you’ve no doubt heard of the Carmelites, my little sister lectured me, she’d brought in a chair, not like at the beginning when she’d sat on the edge of my bed … this order split off from them in the seventeenth century, but wasn’t recognized … seventeenth, that’s baroque, right? I inquired craftily, Sister Maria had brought me a book of poems called Rose of Wounds* with some old and beautiful words in it … even read the flaps, out of boredom.

It was only when I asked her how she came to the order that she wouldn’t give me an answer … but one day, as I pried insistently while hunting flies, and by then we were pretty much buddies, she said: Just like you.

Huh?

I’ll tell you, why not. They found me. I recovered here. I stayed.

What’d you do before?

What’s it to you?

You’re right.

The first few days I felt sick, my head hurt, the string began to make itself heard again in the distance … I was scared of it, scared to sleep even, because of the dreams, Maria brought me some tea, though, that made me sleep like a rock … sometimes I told her I couldn’t stand it there … and after a very long time and much begging and pleading Maria brought me a cigarette, I smoked it in the bathroom, fighting off a couple faints, she laughed. Steered me back into bed. I guess that cigarette messed me up, I touched her. She sprang back.

Cut it out! Do that one more time and you’ll never see me again. I’m Maria Anna Fatima Coseta now … an I belong to the order of the Silent Sisters. Don’t forget it! Don’t ever forget.

Sorry. Forgive me, Sister.

Ever since the three nuns’ visit, Maria had been casting mysterious glances at me, puffing up my puffed-up pillow, walking around the room, telling stories … what’s goin on? I asked. What’s it mean, that visit a theirs?

Oh, she said, that was a big honor for you, a great honor, the mother superior spoke about you at the staff meeting, I mean, you know, they don’t talk, but … Why not? I’d asked that one several times now, she always gave an evasive answer. So as not to defile … their tongue! I guessed … the paths to the Lord, they say … and anyway they don’t need to, I mean, you know, since they can … tell me, Sister Maria, what secret’re they protectin, some of em have their tongues cut out, I read something somewhere … she put her hands in front of her mouth, I donno, she gasped, maybe some … but listen, they really did talk about you, and that’s a big honor … what’d they say? She got flustered again … listen, you know how much this treatment would cost you anywhere else, and you have a room to yourself … and you … yes, and I’m free to come here and talk with you whenever I want, it’s unbelievable, you know you’re the first person I’ve spoken with normally for any length of time since I came … why, Maria, whadda they want from me?

You know … Mr. Potok, she flashed a smile, it may sound fantastic to you, but nothing surprises me anymore, that woman who appeared to you was Sister Samaritas, some say Samargas, and this order reveres her and is searching for her, truly searching! That’s their mission.

How … I don’t get it.

I found out, Maria said softly, she’s alive, that is, just an incarnation of her, of course, but she’s out there somewhere!

Well, why not, I wriggled on the bed.

And she, Maria swallowed, she was from the tribe of the Samaritans and knew Jesus, she knew him well! They met by the well that time, and this order believes that Jesus … the Samaritans were shoved aside like dogs, you know, it’s in the Bible …

Way things were then, I said, why not … I mean, Mary too, but sayin that kina stuff scares me, Sister, I can’t … so this is the order of the Baby Jesus, the Child?

Exactly, said Maria, it’s connected … that’s the connection! and they might want you to go somewhere, carry out an assignment for them.

Gladly, Maria, gladly.

It might be another country, they might send you somewhere, you have the sign, they said so yesterday at the staff meeting, and listen, you’re getting bored here, huh.

Not at all, I sleep a lot, catchin up from all those crazy nights, an I dream an get beautiful books an talk with you.

The sisters say you’ve tried a lot of things, that you’ve done harm even.

Uh-huh, lots … Maria! So they know … and out it came.

Maria … I really love this one woman, but she, she became a whore, see, I couldn’t stand it … and my first night here she spoke to me, she’s out there somewhere … I abandoned her, betrayed her, and now, if I could have her, I’d chop off my hand, or do whatever, I really long for her an I donno where she is. A harlot, sold herself, get it?

Lie down … she pushed me back into the covers and grabbed my hand … you can’t talk that way about her, you don’t have the right … maybe she had to … what do you know about women, what do you know about her, lemme tell you somethin. You wanna know if their tongues’re cut out … tongues, pfeh, what about me! An what was I sposta do? An what can I say? I’m standin outside, back then, I’d left, and I say to myself: Where do I go? Where am I supposed to go now? And then I fell, bad, you’re not the only one. To the bottom. That’s all there are here. Just people who come back. To life. You have to hang on, you have to. You have to hang on to life.