Ismail Kadare - The Successor

Her brother was standing in the half-light in the middle of the hallway, nervously biting his fingernails. Before she had time to ask him, What’s going on? he nodded toward the bedroom door. A narrow slit of light shone from underneath, unnervingly, like the last time.

A very distinct but muffled noise could be heard coming from the room.

“They’re firing shots in Papa’s bedroom,” the young man whispered in explanation.

“What?” she exclaimed.

“They’re firing a gun. But don’t be afraid.”

“You’re out of your mind!” the young woman replied.

Her brother did not respond. Instead, he stretched his head toward the door, almost losing his balance on his long legs. Suzana realized that his nightshirt must be open, revealing his bare chest; her mind a blank, she tried to do it up, but could not find the buttons.

Then there was another thud, clearly audible in spite of its dull tone. You’re all completely insane! Suzana thought. In her sleep-waking mind, the idea that someone was assassinating her father anew, or rather, murdering his corpse, seemed as plausible as it was insane.

She felt that her brother was about to rush toward the door, and she grabbed his hand tightly.

“Wait!”

They stood side by side, almost glued to each other, in total silence, hearing only each other’s breathing, until the door opened. Against the light that streamed forth from it they could make out the shape of a man hurrying out. He was holding a revolver, without any doubt the one he had just fired.

The young woman felt she was not in a state to ask the question “So what are you doing here?” or even the words “madness” or “horror.” Through the half-open door, on the heels of the man with the gun, came two others, wearing white coats and holding various implements in their hands. Oh no! Suzana groaned to herself. The implements looked as if they had been splashed by blood. Then, to make bad worse, a fourth man emerged, carrying in his outstretched arms a receptacle containing a huge chunk of raw meat.

What a nightmare! Suzana thought as she buried her head on her brother’s shoulder. It was probably only one of those bad dreams she’d been having more and more of lately. She dug her nails into her brother’s hand, but that didn’t help to wake her up at all. “Don’t be afraid,” he kept saying to comfort her. “They’re doing weapons trials.” One of the experts had just explained it all to him. “Do you understand?”

Suzana wasn’t listening. He put his mouth to her ear, to explain the details that were most painful to understand. “They’re conducting tests, to check whether the gunshot could or could not have been heard outside, got it? The trials had to be done by shooting into flesh, in this case a hunk of beef, because a gunshot has a sound like nothing else when it’s fired point-blank.”

Some part of all that was at last making its way into Suzana’s brain.

“Where did you get all these details?” she butted in. “Are you collaborating with them?”

Now it was the young man’s turn to say, “You’re out of your mind!”

For days on end, the two of them had shared their suspicions about this or that member of their clan they thought had been involved in the murder.

The young man put an arm around his sister’s shoulder, to lead her back to her bedroom. She was grateful to him for not having said, So you aren’t satisfied with being the cause of this catastrophe, you also have to get on our nerves with your stupid questions! The bloodied implements that had so scared her a moment ago were there, like all the rest of the setup, for their own good. Thanks to these tests, she and her family might possibly be going back to the life they had known before.

Once she was alone, she passed her right hand over her breast, then her belly, then lower down. The feeling was still very diffuse, but it prompted her to think that she had not made love for five months now. Desire, which she thought she would never feel again, had returned, and it was more insistent than ever.

Five months, she thought. How could that be? She had always thought she could not go more than a week without making love, yet she’d been living like a nun for five months!

The memory of her last stay with Genc, at the villa by the sea, began to unfold in her mind. It had been in mid-September, after the engagement party. It was the end of the season, and the villas all around were closing up one by one. Though it had not been cold, they had made a fire in the hearth. Then they lay down stark naked, something they had recently come to like doing. His desire, and shortly after, her groans, had been unusually intense. Though it was not his habit, he too had moaned a little, sounding like a wounded man.

“Anything wrong?” she asked immediately, still panting for breath. Then with a bitter smile she remarked that right after an orgasm partners’ minds always switch back to what they had been worrying about that day.

Genc looked her straight in the eye. “Have you heard anything at all?”

She nodded. Of course she had heard certain rumors that were making the rounds, even inside the Bllok . But she’d told herself they were not as important as they might seem. It’s a well-known fact that engagements always prompt gossip.

He said nothing.

Suzana gently stroked the fluffy edges of his hair. “Even if you won’t admit it, you felt the effect,” he said.

She didn’t deny being annoyed, but not for the reason he supposed.

“It’s not easy for me to explain it to you … It’s connected to a kind of obstacle that’s been bothering me for a long time … Do you understand? … I mean … I so much wanted this thing to happen … more than you can even imagine … and now this is happening — to me?”

“But what has happened to you?” Genc broke in. “You yourself pointed out that wagging tongues are run-of-the-mill in these kinds of circumstances …”

“Of course, that’s the way things are … That doesn’t prevent it from being like a barrier, a disenchantment, I don’t know how to explain it … In something as delicate as love, a mere trifle can sometimes wreck all the joy you feel.”

Out of the corner of his eye he studied her wavy auburn hair, as if he was trying to guess what path the thoughts beneath it were taking. That was something she had said, on that unforgettable day when for the first time they had gotten undressed and lain down together in the same bed. With trembling hands she had taken off her summer dress, then her underclothes. Her eyes were clouded by desire, and she did not notice his hesitation. She was whispering things she never dreamed she would be able to say while stroking him so brazenly … “I love to make love, especially this way, like that … you see? … you put me in such a state” … when she suddenly became aware he was not at ease. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not a virgin,” she whispered, thinking she had guessed the reason for his holding back. “Haven’t been for a long while, you know … Come on, my darling,” she began again, in a throaty plea, offering herself to him even more provocatively, almost exasperatedly, as if she was under the sway of some blind rage, whereas he only turned his head to the side, as if he had been found out. No, he couldn’t do it, he started explaining. It was the first time. It had never happened to him before with anyone else.

She had tried to hang on to the outrage that the words “anyone else” had provoked. Knowing full well she was in the wrong, that she was acting like a spoiled brat, she could not manage to break free of her anger: So, it all went swimmingly with anyone else , but what she got was sweet nothing!

“Listen, will you listen to me” … He tried to explain in straightforward terms that things were not at all as she thought. Not only was that not the reason, it was the opposite of the truth. His incapacity was the direct result of how much he adored her.