Agota Kristof - The Book of Lies

We say:

"Pray to God."

The orderly arrives with other soldiers. They put us on stretchers and carry us out to the ambulance. The officer sits beside us. The policeman, flanked by several soldiers, is taken off in a jeep driven by the orderly.

At the army base, a doctor examines us immediately in a big white room. He disinfects our wounds, gives us shots for pain and tetanus. He also takes X-rays. We haven't broken anything except a few teeth, but they're only baby teeth.

The orderly takes us back to Grandmother's. He puts us in the officer's big bed and lies down on a blanket beside the bed. In the morning, he goes to fetch Grandmother, who brings us warm milk in bed.

When the orderly has left, Grandmother asks us:

"Did you confess?"

"No, Grandmother. We had nothing to confess."

"That's what I thought. And what happened to the policeman?"

"We don't know. But he certainly won't come back anymore."

Grandmother sniggers:

"Deported or shot, eh? The pig! We'll celebrate that. I'll go heat up the chicken I cooked yesterday. I haven't eaten any of it either."

At midday, we get up and go to the kitchen to eat. During the meal, Grandmother says: "I wonder why you wanted to kill her. You had your reasons, I suppose."

Just after the evening meal, an old gentleman arrives with a girl who is bigger than us.

Grandmother asks him:

"What do you want?"

The old gentleman speaks a name, and Grandmother says to us:

"Go out. Go for a walk in the garden."

We go out. We circle the house and crouch down under the kitchen window. We listen. The old gentleman says:

"Have pity."

Grandmother replies:

"How can you ask me such a thing?"

The old gentleman says:

"You knew her parents. They entrusted her to me before they were deported. They gave me your address in case she was no longer safe with me."

Grandmother asks:

"You know what I'd be risking?" "Yes, I know, but it's a matter of life and death." "There's a foreign officer in the house." "Precisely. No one will look for her here. All you'll have to say is that she's your granddaughter, the cousin of those two boys."

"Everyone knows I have no other grandchildren but those two."

"You can say she's from your son-in-law's family." Grandmother sniggers: "I've never even seen my son-in-law!" After a long pause, the old gentleman goes on: "I'm only asking you to feed the little girl for a few months. Till the end of the war."

"The war may go on for years." "No, it won't last much longer now." Grandmother starts to snivel:

"I'm just a poor old woman killing herself with work. How can I feed so many mouths?" The old gentleman says:

"Here's all the money her parents had. And the family jewels. It's all yours if you'll save her." A little later, Grandmother calls us in: "This is your cousin." We say:

"Yes, Grandmother." The old gentleman says:

"You'll play together, the three of you, won't you?" We say:

"We never play." He asks:

"What do you do, then?"

"We work, we study, we do exercises."

He says:

"I understand. You're serious men. You don't have time to play. You'll look after your cousin, won't you?" "Yes, sir. We'll look after her." "Thank you." Our cousin says: "I'm bigger than you." We answer:

"But there are two of us." The old gentleman says:

"You're right. Two are much stronger than one. And you won't forget to call her 'cousin,' will you?" "No, sir. We never forget anything." "I'm depending on you."

Our cousin is five years older than us. Her eyes are black. Her hair is reddish because of something called henna.

Grandmother tells us that our cousin is the daughter of Father's sister. We say the same thing to those who ask questions about our cousin.

We know that Father has no sister. But we also know that without this lie, our cousin's life would be in danger. And we've promised the old gentleman to look after her.

When the old gentleman has gone, Grandmother says:

"Your cousin will sleep with you in the kitchen."

We say:

"There's no more room in the kitchen."

Grandmother says:

"Straighten it out yourselves."

Our cousin says:

"I'm quite willing to sleep on the floor under the table if you give me a blanket."

We say:

"You can sleep on the seat and keep the blankets. We'll sleep in the attic. It's not very cold now." She says:

"I'll come sleep in the attic with you."

"We don't want you. You must never set foot in the attic."

"Why?"

We say:

"You have a secret. We have one too. If you don't respect our secret, we won't respect yours." She asks:

"Would you be capable of denouncing me?" "If you go up to the attic, you die. Is that clear?" She looks at us for a moment in silence, then she says: "I see. You two little bastards are completely crazy. I'll never go up to your filthy attic, I promise."

She keeps her promise and never goes up to the attic. But everywhere else, she bothers us all the time. She says:

"Bring me some raspberries." We say:

"Go in the garden and get some yourself." She says:

"Stop reading out loud. You're splitting my ears." We go on reading. She asks:

"What are you doing there, lying on the floor for hours without moving?"

We continue our immobility exercise even when she throws rotten fruit at us. She says:

"Stop being so quiet, you're getting on my nerves!"

We continue our silence exercise without answering.

She asks:

"Why aren't you eating anything today?"

"It's our fasting day."

Our cousin doesn't work, doesn't study, doesn't do exercises. Often she stares at the sky, sometimes she cries.

Grandmother never hits our cousin. She never swears at her either. She doesn't ask her to work. She doesn't ask her to do anything. She never speaks to her.

The same evening our cousin arrives, we go and sleep in the attic. We take two blankets from the officer's room and lay hay on the floor. Before going to bed, we look through the holes. In the officer's room there is nobody. In Grandmother's room there is a light on, which doesn't happen very often.

Grandmother has taken the oil lamp from the kitchen and hung it over her dressing table. It's an old piece of furniture with three mirrors. The one in the middle is stationary, the other two move. You can adjust them to see yourself in profile.

Grandmother is sitting in front of the dressing table, looking at herself in the mirror. On her head, over her black shawl, she has placed something shiny. Around her neck hang several necklaces, her arms are covered with bracelets, her fingers with rings. She is talking to herself as she contemplates her reflection:

"Rich, rich. It's easy to be beautiful with all this. Easy. The wheel turns. They're mine now, the jewels. Mine. It's only fair. How they shine, how they shine!"

Later, she says:

"And what if they return? What if they want them back? Once the danger is over, they forget. They don't know what gratitude is. They promise the moon and the stars, and then… No, no, they're already dead. The old gentleman will die too. He said I could keep everything.… But the girl… She saw everything, heard everything. She'll want them back, that's for sure. After the war, she'll claim them. But I don't want to give them back, I can't. They're mine. Forever.

"She'll have to die too. Then there'll be no proof. No one'll be any the wiser. Yes, the girl will die. She'll have an accident. Just before the end of the war. Yes, it will have to be an accident. Not poison. Not this time. An accident. A drowning in the stream. Hold her head under the water. Difficult. Push her down the cellar steps. Not high enough. Poison. There's only poison. Something slow. Small doses. An illness that eats away at her slowly, for months. There's no doctor. A lot of people die like that in wartime for lack of care."