Marek Hlasko - Killing the Second Dog

“What do you mean?”

“Can I talk to you man to man?”

“You can try.”

“It seems that my mom loves you, you know?”

“I know,” I said.

“Do you love her, too?”

“Yes, I do, John.”

“Listen,” he said, “did either of you think what is gonna happen when my daddy finds out? He’s gonna kick the shit out of you!”

“I’ll have to defend myself. That’s all I can do.”

He looked at me with a crooked smile. “Man, you don’t stand a chance!”

“Even if I don’t, I’ll still have to fight. Wouldn’t you?”

“Sure I would. But I feel sorry for you. I know my daddy. Look, have you kissed my mom?”

“Yes, I have.”

“And she kissed you?”

“She’s kissed me, too.”

“Then it looks real bad for you. Listen, just don’t tell my daddy that. I know it’s not right, but I worry for you all the same. If my daddy finds out, he’s gonna kill you. As things stand, he might do it anyway. Listen, did I ever tell you about the time some bums picked a fight with him in a bar on Russian Hill in San Francisco?”

“No.”

“Actually there isn’t much to tell. When he was done with them, they were barely breathing. Anyway, remember what I just told you.”

“Okay. I will.”

He turned to leave, then stopped. “Actually, you’re okay, you know? You weren’t bad in that fight with the lifeguard. You’re quick.”

He walked away, taking the dog with him. All in all, a lovable kid. Then I groaned softly; the lifeguard had landed a few good ones. I felt so lousy I decided to get drunk that evening. I thought the thief crucified next to Jesus must have been meek as a lamb compared to little Johnny. No doubt about it. And then, after a while, I began to think of Johnny’s father, and that made me feel even worse.

But I didn’t get drunk in the evening. I lay in bed with her head resting on my shoulder as we watched the sea, motionless and silent, through the open balcony door. The moon seemed glued to a sky suffocating under a heavy fog; the world looked empty and dark.

“When this goddamn wind stops blowing, he’ll start talking again,” I said.

“Who? You mean the sea?”

“Yes”

“Why do you think of the sea as masculine? English grammar is of a different opinion.”

“I don’t give a damn. I just wish he’d start talking again. That’s all.”

“California is by the sea, too,” she said softly.

“Don’t.”

“Wouldn’t you like to go there?”

“No.”

“Every time I look at you and Johnny …”

“Then stop looking at us. I’m not going to California.”

“But you want to go to Australia.”

“I have a job there.”

“Listen, you think there aren’t jobs in America? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m too old for America. It scares me. I love America too much to risk disappointment. It probably seems strange to you, but that’s the way I feel. I’m a Pole. All Poles are cripples. America doesn’t need cripples.”

“Why do you call yourself that?”

“Because it’s true,” I said. “And it can’t be changed. I wanted to be an actor once, but it didn’t work out. I didn’t finish high school, so the Actors’ Studio rejected me. I could have tried again some years later, but my nerves gave out. I started writing, but that didn’t get me very far, either, goddamn it. Then I came here, because I wanted to see the place immortalized in the Bible. I don’t have a work permit, so I have to report to the police every two weeks and explain how I manage to survive. But soon it’ll all be over.”

“Calm down. Take it easy. It’s all because of this wind. It’s making everybody crazy. You’ll come with me.”

“I never said that.”

“You will, tomorrow.”

“Listen,” I said. I, too, had started saying “listen.” She and Johnny had taught me that. “Listen, it’s not only that. I’m a loser. And I’d keep on losing on the other side of the ocean. I like clear situations. For me, Australia is the end of the road, and I know it. In America it would take me more time to free myself from new illusions.”

“I don’t care about America or Australia. I care about us.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” I said. “Listen, when you’re twenty years old, you despise compromises. Later, you begin to accept them because there isn’t any other way. Then one day you learn to feel happy just because the woman you love is alive somewhere. And who she is with ceases to be important. You’re happy because she’s alive and breathing.” I paused a long time, then added, “And that’s the onset of old age, which comes too soon.”

“Have you had so much love in your life you can reject this love?”

“I’m not rejecting it. Like I said, it’ll be with me the rest of my days. As a beautiful memory to be cherished forever. Something that has nothing to do with the goddamn rat race of having to explain to everybody why after so many years I still don’t have a secure job.”

“I don’t have much,” she said. “But my father did leave some money when he died. Why don’t you take it and do something with it?”

“I don’t know what to do with money.”

“Look, we’ll find some way of investing it. Let’s just try to be happy as long as we can.”

“That’s not possible,” I said. My jaw still ached from the lifeguard’s blows. There was a buzz in my head and I couldn’t concentrate. I didn’t remember what I was supposed to say to her next, and I didn’t feel like going down to the lobby and phoning Robert. I remembered seeing a huge gorilla of a man that morning lying on the beach watching little Johnny. I imagined Johnny playing some prank and the gorilla losing his temper and going after me. I shuddered. I heard my rasping breath in the darkness; I got up, turned on the light, and approached the mirror. I leaned my forehead against the glass but got no relief; the mirror was warm and slippery.

“Go to your room,” I said.

“I won’t leave you alone now.”

“Go away, I want to sleep. This is all so incredibly stupid, and the wind is getting on my nerves. Go to hell. I don’t want you or the money your father left you. I moved into this hotel to con you out of some dough; Robert was going to help me. Some other things were to happen, too, but I’m glad it’s all over now.” I turned away from the mirror and closed my eyes, but the instant I did that, I saw the gorilla coming at me, his jaw clenched in fury. I opened my eyes and met her stare; the expression on her face was both amused and watchful. “I hustled other women before,” I said. “But right now I’ve had enough. Not that I’ve become more sensitive all of a sudden, or that I want to reform. I’d be happy to live this way for a thousand years. But I don’t feel too well today. I’ll be going to Tiberias next, together with Robert, where we’ll try to swindle some other girl. I have no plans to leave for Australia. I don’t even know where it is.”

She laughed. “Why don’t you tell me you have a wife and kid, and that’s why you need money?”

“I don’t have any kids. I’ve spent more money on abortions than there is in the Vatican budget. Even though I’m careful. As you’ve probably noticed.” I went over and sat on the bed.

“Easy,” she said. “Easy. It’ll pass. It’s all because of this wind. Don’t talk. There’s no need to talk. I’m here with you.”

She put her arms so tightly around me I couldn’t move. The silence was total: I could hear the slow, painful beating of my heart and her quiet whispering. This is probably how she had spoken to Johnny when he was very small and had trouble falling asleep. I think God created her so that she would give men love, peace, and rest. So that she could make them tired and then make them sleep. I’m sure He forgave her everything.