Jáchym Topol - City, Sister, Silver

“I HAD A DREAM.”

We sat there in our club chairs and luxurious leather armchairs … the truth had spoken from the mouth of an innocent babe … David sat all crumpled up, positively reeking of intense city sorrow … I had an urge to uncork the Fiery and take myself a little vacation … Micka wrung his hands, gnashing what few teeth he had left, Bohler leafed through his dog-eared copy of The Married Priest … then he slammed the book down and said firmly: Self-criticism! He was right, we all sensed it. It was time for suicidal self-criticism, the byznys day was down the drain.

It was only extremely exceptionally that we engaged in self-criticism, only in those heavy-duty cases when we’d seriously crushed someone, not that we ever broke the rules of our little entente, oh no, but every now and then the dictates of the market economy obliged us to pull a dirty trick or two. Our victims we didn’t care about; if someone gets under the wheel, doesn’t know how to use his power, that’s his business. We performed self-criticism in order to be purer … more ardently prepared for the coming of the Messiach.

Supposedly self-criticism was an old bolshevik class invention developed to perfection by that bloody Mao, a teacher. We dusted it off so we could use it, not abuse it, in freedom. Bohler always went first.

I had a dream, he said. I was walkin around that old city of ours, slacks an a sport jacket on, decked out in my civvies, makin the rounds of the bars an the usual spots, keepin my eyes peeled for sinners, some infected whores I might persuade to leave behind their disgusting ways, a scamp or two to reel in, you know how it is, guys. An I admit my bosom was warmed with satisfaction an heinous pride, because the day before I’d snagged three little goons, herded em into an old garage, trampled their toyfils, an baptized em. After some deliberation I let em keep their weapons, they wouldn’t get far without em, an they seemed to be genuinely contrite, so I went ahead an sanctified their little guns an knives. An the day before that I set a few hookers straight an also succeeded in heavily stigmatizin this one disgusting sinner I caught abusin his kids … so now Bog’ll easily recognize the fiend … an O my pals, that selfsame day, I overcame stiff resistance from a band of revoltingly bloody butchers to save two blind old forsaken horses from slaughter an set em free on our lawn … I admit, as I strode along, I felt nothin but good feelings. Well … as we all know, our first free president’s lovely new vision, namely clean quiet streets an cozy little pubs an delightful little shops sellin all kindsa grub, is becoming a reality all over the place, lots of folks’re enjoyin vitamins in the comfort of their homes an plenty of folks’re movin outta the village up to the castle, but we also know that the cellars’re full. So I’m walkin around, an I see the human misery an the vice an the falsehood, an the sinners an their victims, people whose hearts’re red with rancor an people whose hearts’re broken in two, an as I’m strollin toward the landing in the stench of the toxic Moldau, I’m warmed with pride that I’m on the right side … doin what I can to aid His coming … an then I see this derelict standin outside a taproom … a disgusting old guy in lousy rags … face totally ravaged with goose blotches, the skin drippin off … an his filthy body was shakin all over from booze, or the lack of it … an people were stoppin to laugh at him, subjectin him to ridicule an scorn, this guy was absolutely under the wheel, an I mean deep … just these baggy things smeared with shit for pants … whimperin for change in this shaky voice … an little scamps were chuckin mud an dirt clods, one of em hit him smack in the face an he didn’t even feel it … so I stop next to the freak an start fishin around in my pocket … I admit I too felt scorn an contempt … the bozo … starin down at the ground the way old panhandlers do … but just then he lifts his watery eyes … an I see it’s my father, my dad … an he recognized me too, an he’s so out of it he says: Michal, Michálek, get me outta here … which was what he always said when my mom sent me to bring him home from whatever dive he’d blown all his cash in that night, an he’d be just sittin there blitzed in the corner, an the guys’d all laugh an say … your angel’s come for you, Bohler, get up … an I’d take him home, an he’d always find enough strength left to take a few swipes at me … coulda killed him, that piece a shit … then I split … left my mother to deal with him, since she was the cow who’d married him … an it didn’t take him long to drive her into the grave either … an now here he was, standin right in front of me, the creep, an his eyes livened up a little … but he was just too out of it, an he goes: Help a poor soul, mister … didn’t know who I was anymore … but I knew … an I knew he could sense I was there … caught that greedy flash in his eyes, an suddenly I didn’t give a damn about all the people around, an I go: Do you know who I am? Do you recognize me? Pop! An that ugly mug opens its eyes an says: Yeah, you’re my son Michal, course I know you … I’m tellin you, guys an buddies a mine, I felt like deckin him on the spot for all the things he’d done, for what he’d done to himself … but then came pity an I realized he was in there somewhere … there musta been somethin we’d never talked about, some evil spirit that cut him down … somethin I didn’t understand … now he was really bad off, worse than a battered animal … an I was scared to death that we would never get to talk about it … scared it was too late … an it was, he didn’t know me anymore … an, O my friends, I asked a couple lamebrains in the crowd to wait there with him while I raced off to find a doctor, or whoever it is you go for in those kinds of situations … but I couldn’t find anyone, an by the time I got back that old lush, my pop, was gone of course … an when I burst into the taproom they probly thought I was nuts, nobody knew him, nobody’d seen him. An that’s that. I figure by now he’s gotta be dead. An I never did give him that change he was askin for …

Bohler concluded to the pack’s guardedly approving grumbling. We took hold of our partner’s shoulders, where the sources of pity are, and whacked them a little here and there, and in the course of our efforts to provide effective aid our partner also got a slap or two, and then his shoulders straightened up again and he was basically all right.

Next in line was Micka. I had a dream, he said. I was maybe ten, give or take, an I was playin around the garden of our kultchured family’s old Prague home. An it was a weird day, the kina day when the air is new an a little guy gets in a weird mood, the kina mood where he feels like tryin out worlds an testin his power to see what it can do. A little annoyed an a little antsy, I poked around the old sheds an the raspberry bushes a while, but they didn’t hold any more mystery for me. I kept lookin, waitin for somethin to happen, there was definitely some kina force pullin me. I scratched around in the dirt a while an tried to lift this great big rock, but nope, it was no go. I kicked around the cracked old swimming pool, built in the pre-bolshevik era, actually it wasn’t ours anymore, actually neither was the house, but anyway the tenants used it to store their coal, so I got in there an started tunnelin around. But somehow that wasn’t any fun either. I wanted to break through the surface, an get to somethin new. I moped around back an forth, then tried to lift the rock again. Still no go, I fell down an banged my head. An I think right then the Devil possessed me. I picked myself up, a little dazed, an spotted a bird’s nest up in the tree. It was full of all these bald little crows, cheepin an stickin their long bald necks up towards the mama, who was feedin em a worm. I’d never seen anything like it except in pictures at school. It was new, it was interesting. I snuck over to the tree so I wouldn’t frighten the mama, but she spotted me of course, an started flappin around the nest an beatin her wings. I donno why but I guess it freaked me out a little, so I grabbed this rake off a pile of leaves. The little chicks were really startin to squawk, an I wanted to get a better look, so I took the rake an like tipped the nest up a little. They started cheepin even louder, an I could see em wigglin their heads all weirdlike, snappin their beaks open an closed. I got goose bumps, it was a funny feeling, all of a sudden I was their master. I could decide what would happen to them. They were so cute I got this totally burning desire to cup them in my hand an pet them an cuddle them. But at the same time I got excited at the thought of suddenly clenchin that friendly hand into a fist an squashin em to pieces. I felt both at once. I still could’ve stopped it all, but instead I lifted the rake up, bit by bit, till the nest began to wobble. I needed to know so bad what it would do, what would happen. I guess I needed to know how my new power worked on living creatures. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but I guess I needed to find out how death works. An that there really is such a thing. The first baby fell onto the ground. I went over to get a look up close, an when I touched it I could feel its frenzied little heart poundin away under the down. An somehow that frenzy got inside me, or I got scared the mama crow was gonna punish me. She started dive-bombin me, disappearin into the branches an then swoopin down, closer an closer to my face each time, her wings even touched me a couple a times. I guess I got scared she was gonna call in the other crows, or my parents, or I donno what … but I realized whatever I wanted to do I had to do it right away, an what it was to this day I’ve yet to figure out. I took the rake an started bashin the nest an the little birds started fallin down, an then the nest tore open. I think I was screamin. When the nest came down, the babies started cheepin an squirmin around on the ground … an all at once they were disgusting, like some kina worms or somethin, an I jumped on the nest an stomped it to bits. I stomped those baby crows to a pulp, an then I took the rake an knocked down the mama an she started to wail … don’t anyone tell me birds don’t cry, I heard it, anyone says different … I’m warnin you … an I started hackin her up with the rake, over and over, till she was all mangled an just crawlin over her children … an then, O my brothers, I pissed on them … I was so fired up, I just had to keep goin. So I urinated all over em, an I knew what I was doin was evil, but it was also beautiful, it was strange … an it wasn’t over yet, cause there I was peein all over those birds an pokin em with my shoe, when all of a sudden I hear: Lukáš! Lukáš, what’re you doing out there, what’re you playing around with? It was my mom an she was standin right there an all at once she saw everything … an there we were, face to face, me with my fly undone … an the birds … an if I’d broken down, maybe, or at least started crying, I might’ve been able to snap out of it … but instead I let out this awful scream, I was scared I was gonna get punished an I hated my mom for catchin me. I punched her in the mouth an shouted every swear word I could think of. She got all frazzled an turned to get away, but that only got me more riled up, so I took the rake an whacked her one, an then another … an she went down, bleedin from her nose, an suddenly it hit me. I threw myself down on the ground next to her an said: Mommy! It’s okay, it’s okay … but she just pushed me away an staggered off. I went an locked myself up in the shed an stayed there, I donno how long, but I guess pretty long, cause when I came out again it was nighttime an the birds were all cleaned up. I noticed right away cause the moon was shining. Somehow I snuck back into the house, an the next day I stayed in bed with a fever. I wished so bad it’d been just a dream. But it wasn’t. My parents never even talked to me about it, just sent me to see some fuckhead psychiatrist, who I told to take his cuntlick questions an shove em up his ass. An my mom never spoke to me again, except for the usual: Do you want milk, or tea? Finish your food, bring me this, show me that, an all that stuff, never asked how I was or … gave me a friendly pat or anything, wouldn’t touch me at all, that was when she cut me loose for good.