Evald Flisar - My Father's Dreams

There was a pause, and because Grandpa Dominic did not object, Father began to read.

“We have reached a point at which we try to get by without acknowledging the inner life at all. We act as though there were no unconscious, no realm of the soul, as though we could live full lives by fixating ourselves completely on the external, material world, making more money, getting more power, starting a love affair. But we discover to our surprise that the inner world is a reality that we ultimately have to face.”

“Yes,” said Grandpa Dominic, “interesting.”

“But I always knew that,” Father said. “So how is it possible that, step by unnoticed step, this knowledge seeped out of me, and was replaced by a belief that I could serve my desires and the needs of other people at the same time?”

“Hard to say,” said Grandpa Dominic dryly.

“It wasn’t my son who was dreaming. I was the one who lost his grip on reality, dreaming that my actions were one thing, and I as a person another.”

“What can I say,” responded Grandpa Dominic.

“My dreams are over now,” Father said after a pause. “They ended when I realized what I had done. I used to grow bonsai plants in the basement. Forcing them into unusual, but visually stunning shapes. I did not realize that my soul was growing into an equally twisted shape, only ugly.”

“Nothing much to be done now,” Grandpa Dominic said.

“No,” Father agreed. “Except one thing.”

As Father got to his feet I darted back into my room and turned the key in the lock. I heard Father creak up the stairs again. I heard him moving from room to room, first to the library, then to the bedroom, then to the bathroom and back to the bedroom, opening and closing wardrobes and chests of drawers, as if looking for something, collecting things or changing clothes. Then I heard him coming down again, carrying something heavy.

Then everything happened very quickly, much too quickly for me to react. First there was the scrabbling sound of car tyres on the gravel, then a speeding car came to a screeching halt in front of the house, two doors were opened and slammed shut again. Someone rang the bell. Father opened the door and I heard a rapid exchange of words. Then the front door was closed and I heard steps moving away.

I expected to hear the car doors again, but instead I heard the squealing of the lid of the metal rubbish container. As if someone had opened it and was taking something out. Then the lid fell back in its place with the familiar twang. Only then did I hear three car doors being slammed one after another. Almost at the same moment the car reversed, made a turn and sped off down the driveway so fast that I heard gravel flying from under the spinning tires.

I pressed my face to the window. I was too late; the car had already turned onto the road and vanished behind the hedge.

There was a knock. I bolted to the door to unlock it. With my hand on the key, I paused to take a deep breath. I did not want Grandpa Dominic to see me distraught. When I finally opened the door I found his face looking down at me with the same expression of kindness as always, although there was sadness in his eyes I had not seen before. And a shadow of unusual anger and exasperation, which was not directed at me.

“Adam,” he said. “I’m expecting an important delivery. A truck will have to be unloaded. Will you come and help me?”

I nodded, overjoyed at the prospect. I immediately sat down on the bed and started to put on my shoes. Grandpa Dominic stood in the doorway, watching me.

“Have you got a travelling bag?” he asked. When I nodded, he continued, “Put some things in it, a change of clothes, extra socks, whatever you need for school. Unloading will take a while, no point in you going back and forth, far easier if you stay with me.”

And then, as an afterthought, “You can sleep in Eve’s room.”

For the first time in ages my heart was flooded with a wave of pure joy. To spend a few days with Grandpa Dominic in his house — it sounded too good to be true! The travelling bag was ready in less than five minutes.

I pointed to the glass jar on the cabinet. “I’d like to take Abortus with me, if I may. For the last fifteen years he has lived in formaldehyde. He is going through a patch of bad weather right now, but this will clear up. I can’t leave him alone.”

“In that case,” Grandpa Dominic said, “let him come with us.”

And so we set off. Grandpa Dominic carried my travelling bag, and I carried Abortus, pressing the glass jar to my stomach with both hands, treading carefully lest I stumbled and fell on top of the jar, breaking it. Grandpa Dominic adjusted his steps to mine, and so we slowly proceeded along narrow field paths toward his house. We met very few people, but those we did were visibly startled, and even stared after us. A grey-bearded sea captain in an elegant uniform with golden insignia, wearing a large cap with a silver-plated shield, two hundred miles from the nearest sea, could not have been an ordinary sight. If the liquid in the jar hadn’t turned cloudy, and they could have seen Abortus as well, most would have thought that we had stepped out of a fairy-tale.

“What about Father?” I asked.

Grandpa Dominic said nothing for a long time. He produced an uncertain cough, as if looking for words. When he finally spoke he did not look at me. “Father will be away for some time. It’s true he left without saying good-bye, but he was in a great hurry. He was running late for the special seminar he had been asked to attend. Some medical thing, I couldn’t really tell you exactly.”

“How long will he be away?” I asked. “A few weeks? Months?”

“Oh,” Grandpa Dominic shrugged, “more likely years, I’d say.”

“Mother is away, too,” I said. “She’s gone to look after Aunt Yolanda, who is very ill. Can I stay with you until they both return?”

“Of course, Adam,” he ruffled my hair. “You can stay with me until I leave for my final voyage.”

“When will that be?”

He gave a quiet laugh. “Not so soon, I hope.”

As we approached the house we could see a large petrol tanker standing on the road right in front of it.

“We’re in time,” said Grandpa Dominic.

But the truck driver disagreed, saying that he had been waiting for almost an hour, and was just about to turn around and take “the whole bloody thing” back.

“That would be a great pity,” said Grandpa Dominic.

“Adam,” he turned to me, “take your things to Eve’s room, which will be yours from now on. In the meantime this gentleman and I will try to work out the best way to accomplish what promises to be a complicated manoeuvre.”

He passed me the bag. “Will you manage?”

Although it wasn’t easy, I managed to get the jar and the bag as far as the big room with the African gods, where I placed Abortus on the oak table. I noticed that the three missing gods were back in their places. Then I carried my bag to the first floor and opened the door to Eve’s room.

The teddy bear was sitting in the middle of the bed and staring at me with its plastic eyes as if surprised to see me. I went down on my knees and dug my nose into the bed cover, hoping to trace any remaining smells of Eve, of her skin, of her hair. But all I could smell was dust which had accumulated in the blanket.

Suddenly I was overcome by complete exhaustion. I could almost feel the energy draining out of me. I fell asleep where I was, kneeling on the floor, resting my head on my arms, which I had crossed on the bed. It wasn’t a deep sleep, it was more a strange hovering on the border between sleep and wakefulness, and all the time I remained half aware of something going on behind the house. I heard the engine of the truck which kept moving backwards and forwards as if manoeuvring into place, then I heard unfamiliar whirring, splashing and gurgling, then some winding and metal banging, and finally two male voices, shouting and arguing, until finally the engine ran freely for some minutes before revving up again and moving away, followed by silence.