Jáchym Topol - City, Sister, Silver

We were on a hill, we’d come up out of a gorge and now we were standing on top, hidden by trees, beech trees. Below us shone the white roof of a hideous one-story building made of plywood boards, plastic, and sheet metal. The kinda thing people leave behind in godforsaken places.

Smoothy went ahead of me, teeth shining in a smile … you are our only guest, Mr. Potok, the only one, we hope … notice if you will, he showed me what he had in his hand … a pinecone … this highly remarkable and exotic fruit is worth more to us than all the supergadgets put together … he threw the cone onto the roof below and another one right after … ponk! ponk! … the woods around the building rippled … at first I only spotted movement, then them, hopping out … like this: hop, hop … from the bushes on this late afternoon … the tank driver and I gawked, he was overjoyed … we started off downhill.

The building was just camouflage, they had pits in the bushes, that’s where they lived … waiting. Greetings like barking, they didn’t waste time … I gave em a nod … the captain slapped me on the back, but I didn’t trust him anymore … but the scariest character was Smoothy junior. He was no smoothy, he was … a mankurt.* I don’t think he knew he was living. Looked at his dad like he was air, didn’t rush over or anything. His eyes hung on Hunter. Aw, shut up, I told myself … What do I know what kina hell they got inside em. Anyway I’m on their side, although … They’d given up trying to convince me that we’d be going to track someone else down still. The day was fading, slowly and surely. I tried hard to absorb. The things of the world whipped me like ivy.

They had a car there. Roomy enough for the seven I’d dragged outta the factories, plus the boss. Plus Smoothy. I don’t think they were figurin on a spot for me. They were on a mission. Mine was apparently at its end.

I wanna talk to the general, I told Smoothy. He isn’t a general … and he doesn’t have time. I went up to Hunter an let loose in French, panting like some kinda Gavroche. The general refuses to speak the language of the colonizers, Smoothy translated for me. I tried Russian. No dice. Then kiss my ass, you nimrod! Smoothy grinned.

Let’s go inside, he took me by the elbow, I had no choice. Smoothy … You have betrayed us from the beginning. No, I’m on your side. Don’t lie! For once I’m not lyin. You would lead them here. I don’t wanna, screw em. You took money from them. They wouldn’t’ve trusted me otherwise, all I wanna do is grab Sister an split … I know, said Smoothy. And do you trust her? I stopped … like he’d bitten me. You know her, Smoothy? I am asking whether you trust her … yeah … but. Precisely, said Smoothy.

Inside it was scorching, they didn’t air it out. Everything was bent, banged up, who knew how long that place’d been standin there. Formica looked fresh though. I went and opened a window, turning my back to Smoothy. Wait a moment, he said. It’s still too light. Huh? You lied to me constantly, Mr. Potok … all those words of yours … nilly, noo-noo, figling, mickiwick … bimbam, thupdoodle, frickter … I went through every one of my dictionaries, those words don’t exist … Hah, they do now, Smoothy! How true, did you know that I am a professor … of comparative literature … does that mean anything to you? Not even close, but what’s it matter now, right? An what’d you mean about the light … Not only am I a professor, Mr. Potok, but I have been trained … and Smoothy took a running start, it was tough in that little room, but he’s a nimble little guy, rammed his head into the wall, face first … I thought he’d gone nuts, here I am, the only normal one, surrounded by loonies, I mean look at Černá, she’s psycho too … he looked a little stunned but took another run-up, this time it made a crunching sound, his knees sagged a little, he wagged his head … seeping blood, his nose, I guess … I am releasing you, Mr. Potok, and I am doing this so they will think that you overpowered me, which, he laughed, will astound them … I am a Christian, Mr. Potok, but my family, what is left of it, are Buddhists … and I am going to tell you something, some words you do not know, he pulled a small figurine from his pocket, some little demon … gold probly … I curbed my comments … this is Sakya Muni, said Smoothy, I had it made in Paris, and he is my family’s God of Happiness and Good Fortune, I am releasing you so that in turn perhaps someone will release … one of my people … is night falling yet? Is dusk upon us? Is … twilight drawing near? I guess he was a little giddy from the blows, but he’d been trained … so he sat down an pulled out a gun … with a silencer, I knew it from the movies … an said … if night is falling, then run along, and please, don’t let them get you, because I cannot give you a second chance and the general may not give me even a first one, and did you see my son? I smashed my face in, but at least you have kept me amused, perhaps I shall yet reach the end … min-ding, thupdoodle … pantoong, yes, the borders of poetry are as flexible as the borders of the Chinese provinces … I was already outside, but I leaned in through the window … thupdoodle, but my sis came up with that one … Go! Hurry! And he fired, thup! … and again, thup! and I didn’t make up that exclamation point, and I was halfway up the hill before I looked back and saw that Smoothy wasn’t in the chair anymore … I ran … but when I got to the top I checked myself, only fools rush into the woods … and it started … hop, hop … they went flashing past … ahead of me and on either side, and I snuck off, slow and silent, in the other direction … but they were no dodos, that was obvious. My only advantage perhaps was a childhood of make-believe, this was my forest and I was a robber, only now the king’s men were menacingly real … I crept slowly … they ran, I think, silent and bowed … and the first beech to offer me its trunk and branches I accepted, and stayed there … toward morning I spotted two of em, goin along, sniffin the wind, and in their hands … all they had were these thin little canes, it scared the hell outta me … next day I stole across the hillside, allowing myself some speed now, swooping in and out of the rocks … and I came around a stone mound and there was Smoothy’s son.

He just sat there, holdin a cane, lookin at me, didn’t breathe a word. I started shakin, couldn’t control it. I think I said: Oh. But he didn’t stir, was it a dream? I kicked the stone, the mankurt waved his hand. I walked around him … waiting, waiting. But then … he got tears in his eyes. Shook his head, and a great big one dripped off his chin. Strange creature. I headed back into the woods. He waved after me.

At last I made it to a road. It was falling to pieces, at every bend I was worried the gravel would give out. And after … some time, I donno how long, I heard a familiar drone, it stabbed right through me … it was the weirdest thing, totally unnatural, I didn’t hear any technological stuff at all in the area, no robots, buzzsaws, engines, planes, no silver birds in a streak of exhaust … no traffic lights beeping, nothing. Don’t get that much anymore.

It was a junker, patchwork job, the guy took a start when I came outta the trees, but he pulled over. Hello, scuse me, could I get a lift? I had a humble expression on and more language tricks in reserve. What … where ya goin? he asked. Big guy, black sweater, older than me. And around his neck … silver! I couldn’t believe it.

He was a milkman with a pickup full of milk jugs. Came in handy. Did a pretty good business, I gathered. We rode along, he told stories.

He’d left the city. This here all useda be military, strategic area, he said, elbow propped out the window … vacuated alla the villages. Just opened it up now, after the revolution. Soldiers cleared out, Russians too. Was it a revolution, whadda you think? I gave some answer. Over there, he waved his hand, ya got Poland, over there Ukraine, this here’s Slovakia, I think, an over there’s nothin, he kidded. We had a good time.