Саманта Швеблин - Mouthful of Birds

“With all this money we could buy part of the land, we could at least live independently…”

“The train has to stop,” resolves Gong, with a seriousness he hasn’t shown before.

“What do you want to do?” asks Gruner. “How do you stop a train? We have to be realistic here, objectivity is the foundation of any good plan.”

“Tell us, Gruner—why do you think the train doesn’t stop?” asks Gong.

And Cho replies anxiously:

“It’s because of Pe, he signals that there are no passengers.”

“We know the signal for ‘Don’t stop.’ What we don’t know is the signal for ‘Do stop,’” says Gong.

“I see,” says Gruner. And then, illuminated: “And did you already try the negative?”

“The negative?” asks Gong.

“If ‘the signal’ means ‘Don’t stop,’” says Gruner, “‘the negative’ is…”

“No signal!” cries Cho.

“We’ll have to pray,” says Gruner.

“We’ll have to pray,” repeats Gill, wiping his eyes with a paper napkin.

It all happens just as it should, as they’d set out in the plan. First of all, dawn breaks. Fi pokes her head through the kitchen door and calls the family to breakfast. The little office workers, each one in his own room, put socks on their feet, jackets over their pajamas, slippers on their stockinged feet. Pe is the first to use the bathroom, and the others follow in order of their arrival: Gong, Gill, Cho, and finally Gruner, who, since he knows he’s last, uses the time to feed the dog, by that time already waiting by the door. Fi greets them all and hurries them along so breakfast doesn’t get cold. Then Cho distracts Fi, bringing her over to the window and pointing to something in the fields, maybe an animal that could be that day’s lunch or dinner. Meanwhile, Gong watches the bathroom door to be sure Pe doesn’t come out; after all, he is next in line and it’s not strange for him to wait outside. And that’s when Gruner and Gill dissolve the sleeping pills stolen from Fi’s nightstand into Pe’s big mug of coffee. They’re all sitting around the table and the breakfast ceremony can begin; at first the office workers do nothing but watch Pe’s mug. But Pe and Fi are focused on that first meal of the day, and neither of them notices their looks. But to judge from the delicacies they start heaping onto their plates, the office workers themselves seem to forget the matter. When they finish, Gill clears the table and Cho washes the dishes. Gong and Gruner declare they’re going to straighten up the rooms and make the beds, and under Fi’s permissive smile they withdraw.

They’d agreed that all four would meet in Gruner’s room once they’d pulled off the first part of the plan. Once there, the office workers—or rather, Gill and Cho, not Gong and Gruner—find themselves feeling nostalgic. Gill believes that, after all, Fi has been like his mother, and Cho admits that he has learned a lot about country living under the tutelage of a man like Pe. The hours of teamwork and the family breakfasts won’t be easily forgotten. Gong and Gruner keep moving as these ruminations take place: they pack some bags with a few little souvenirs, some small stones and other things Gill and Cho have collected, plus some apples to eat on the train.

Then Gong’s watch alarm goes off: it’s time. The train will be here soon, because this is the exact moment when, every day, Pe gets up from the sofa where he does his morning reading and walks to the field to stand beside the tracks and signal. Gruner gets to his feet, and so does Gong, and now everything is in their hands. Gill and Cho will wait on the station bench. In the living room they find Pe asleep on his sofa. They try strong, loud words: “Chomp!” “Attention!” “Scrutinize!” But Pe, sunk into the deep sleep the sedatives induced, doesn’t wake up. Gill kisses him on the forehead and Cho imitates him; there are farewell tears in his eyes. Gong makes sure that Fi is in the backyard watering her plants like every morning, and there she is. “Perfect,” they say to one another, and finally they all leave the house. Gill and Cho go toward the station, Gong and Gruner toward the field, walking along the tracks toward the train. They spot smoke on the horizon from a train they still can’t see, but that can already be heard.

After several steps, Gong stops. Gruner is supposed to go on alone—it takes only one man for the non-signal. After Gong slaps him on the back a few times, Gruner keeps walking. It’s going to be hard to see the train approach and want it to stop, and count only on the non-signal. To stand by the tracks and do nothing, to just pray, as Gill said, because maybe that’s the signal for God to stop the train.

The train comes closer, moving along one of the two tracks that cross the countryside from one horizon to the other. And soon it’s at the station. Gruner focuses. He stays as still as possible, and when the train passes him, it’s hard for him to tell if that’s the sound of a train speeding up or of one that’s going to stop. Then he moves his eyes down toward the wheels turning along the tracks, and he notices that the iron arms that push it along are starting to slow their movement. He doesn’t see Gong, doesn’t know where he is, but he hears his shouts of joy. The train moves past him and, finally, comes to a complete stop in the station. Gruner watches triumphantly as the station begins to fill up with passengers, but finally he realizes that, underneath the clamor of people, Gong’s cries are directed at him: he is very far from the station, and the train’s whistle is already announcing its departure. Gruner starts to run.

At the station, in order to board the train, Gill and Cho have to push through dozens and dozens of passengers who are still disembarking. People and luggage are everywhere. The same words are repeated like an echo along the length of the whole train platform:

“I thought we’d never get off.”

“Years, years, I’ve been on this train, but today, at last…”

“I don’t even remember the town anymore, and now, suddenly, we’re here…”

People shout and cheer, there’s almost no more room in the station. Then there’s another whistle, and the sound of the train as it starts to move off. Gruner is almost there. He sees Gong waiting at the end of the platform to help him up, and he jumps the steps. A group of men who have unpacked their instruments play a happy tune to celebrate the occasion. Gong and Gruner move among children, men, and women, and before they can reach the first door, the train is already moving alongside them. That’s when Gruner sees, among jubilant ex-passengers, the thin gray figure of the dog.

“Gruner!” yells Gong, who has now reached the first door.

“I’m not going without the dog,” declares Gruner, and as if those words give him the strength he needs, he goes back to the animal and picks him up. The dog lets him do it, and his terrified face goes with Gruner as he dodges the euphoric bodies. They reach the train’s last car and pull even with it. Gruner senses that from one of the windows Gill and Cho are watching him in anguish, and he knows he can’t fail them. He grabs hold of the back stairs of the train and the thrust of the machine plucks him from the platform, as though from a memory in which their feet had recently been planted, but that now grows smaller and disappears in the countryside.

The back door of the car opens and Gong helps Gruner up. Inside, Gill and Cho take the dog and congratulate Gruner. The four—now five—of them are there, and they’re saved. But, and there is always a but , in the door there is a window, and from that window they can still make out their station. A station full of happy people, overflowing with office supplies and probably also with change. It’s a stain that for them has been a place of bitterness and fear and that nevertheless now, they imagine, is something like the happy civilization of the capital. A final feeling, shared by all, is of fear: the sense that, when they reach their destination, there will be nothing left.