Ivan Klíma - Judge On Trial

Now they were driving along narrow lanes through a landscape of dark forests, but from time to time they would come out into open country and he would make out gentle slopes bathed in moonlight.

‘I loved you in those days, Adam,’ she said. ‘More than even I supposed; more than you knew.’

‘I loved you too.’

‘No, really, you don’t have to. I knew that you couldn’t love me to the same extent. It might not even have been your fault you weren’t capable of it.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘They hurt you when you were still a little boy. You couldn’t be like other people afterwards.’

‘Was I worse?’ It was a surprise that she thought of him in those terms.

‘You were different.’ He waited for her to go on, but she said no more.

2

It must have been gone midnight. He had been fast asleep — he had no idea how long the ringing had been going on — and then when he started to come to his senses, it took him a few moments to identify the troublesome sound and decide to get up.

‘Is that you, bro?’ He recognised the familiar voice.

‘Where are you calling from?’ His brother had been away for three years now and in that time they had only exchanged letters.

‘Where d’you think I’m calling from? From here, of course! But the university’s paying, in case you’re worried about the bill. We can chat as much as we like. I didn’t wake you did I?’

‘I’d only just dropped off. In trouble?’

‘What trouble could I be in? It’s ages since I last heard you, but your voice is the same. What’s new your side?’

‘Nothing in particular,’ he said evasively. ‘I’m sure you have a fair idea if you read the papers.’

‘Precisely. It looks a fucking mess to me.’

‘There are fourteen million or so people living here.’

‘There are countries with a lot more inhabitants, and it’s still a fucking mess.’

‘Listen, are you drunk?’

‘I’ve had a couple. So what?’

‘There are some things one can’t discuss over the phone.’

‘You’re right there,’ his brother agreed. ‘Are you playing any tennis?’

‘Not much.’

‘Is your second service still as bad as ever?’

‘Probably.’

‘You should practise more. I don’t play much here either. It costs too much, and anyway… Any mushrooms in the woods yet?’

‘A few maybe.’

‘The park’s the only place you might get some here. The forests have got barbed wire all round, like… you know what I’m talking about. The point is there’s hardly any forests here anyway. They just left a couple for the lords and their jolly old foxhunting. I prefer to stay in and do me sums. And what about you? Not kicked you out of your judgeship yet?’

‘Not so far.’

‘Hang in, then! Even if it’s not exactly a respectable occupation over there.’

‘And you didn’t choose it either.’

‘No I didn’t, thank God! Over here, though, judges are highly respected. They wear wigs and they have to be forty or there-abouts before they’re allowed to judge at all. But when they’ve made it nobody’s allowed to interfere with them.’

‘I’m well aware of that; there’s no need to give me a long-distance lecture.’

‘Mother wrote and told me to come home. It’s a daft idea, isn’t it?’

‘You know Mother,’ he said, desperately trying to evade a reply. ‘She wants to have us all together.’

‘But what do you think?’

‘You know you’re duty-bound to return, otherwise…’

‘For God’s sake stop drivelling like a Party speaker, I’m asking you as a brother. Or can’t you even tell your brother what you think over the phone any more?’

He was aware of his inadequacy. He, who was supposed to decide on others’ guilt or innocence, was too scared to give a straight answer to a question from his own brother. He couldn’t help being scared because if they were unlawfully monitoring his conversation, they could with equal unlawfulness see to it that he lost his job. And there was no court he would be able to appeal to afterwards.

‘Mum says I ought to take a leaf out of your book,’ Hanuš went on. ‘Meaning that you came back too. But things were different then, weren’t they?’

‘To other’s word or other’s deed it is best to pay no heed!’

‘You don’t want to talk about it, do you?’

‘There’s no sense me going into details — you know the score perfectly well. You must remember the times we used to go off together to try and earn a few quid?’

‘Yeah, it was great being poor then. There was that time we cut down those trees and they wouldn’t pay us anything. Those woods: do you remember? That’s something I really miss sometimes, the chance to wander through the woods. D’you think things would go the same way for me as they did for Dad?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. But what guarantee can I give you? As a general rule people can never believe that the worst will happen. It was the same during the war.’

‘But I’ve got to make up my mind one way or the other. Isn’t there any advice you could give me?’

‘No there isn’t, really.’

‘And there was the time we sat at the fire with the gypsies. But I was allowed to study in the end.’

‘None of that’s ever coming back — you were sixteen then. The most important thing is to decide what really counts for you in life. Do you get me?’

‘So I’m not going to get any advice from you?’

‘No one will give you any. The important thing is what matters to you most. For some people it’s money, for others it’s freedom. Some people want to be close…’

‘And you’ve no regrets?’

‘No…’

‘You’re saying that on their account?’

‘No, but it’d take me a long time to explain. When you come back I’ll try and explain it to you.’

‘And what if I don’t come back?’

‘Then you’ll come round to it yourself in time.’

‘Thanks for nothing!’

‘Everyone has different priorities. Some people are incurably homesick, others can’t live without freedom…’

But there was no one on the other end any more. Either they’d been cut off or his brother had hung up.

He held the mute receiver for a few moments longer; his hand was shaking. Not so long ago a telephone call like that wouldn’t have bothered him. Or at least not so badly that he’d feel afraid. Either things had taken a turn for the worse or he had. Both, most likely. His fear was beginning to exceed admissible bounds. He was fearful for his position, not so much because it mattered to him per se, but because he expected that this time his fall would be final. Most likely he would end up in a boilerhouse, a nightwatchman’s hut or a trailer; what options would he have left then?

Except that to bring him down they didn’t need to listen in to his conversations, they didn’t need anything at all. And should they need an excuse they’d always find one. Besides which they had already set a trap for him: it was called Karel Kozlík, and he knew full well what would happen if he failed to convict him as the powers that be demanded. And if he did what was required of him? Then they would set him another trap. There was no escape — that he knew: he had been through it before.

Before going back to bed he drank another glass of water; his hands were still unsteady. What sort of life was this? Damn it, he ought to have given his brother some sort of answer. Told him something of his worries; people over there tended to forget the relentless, debilitating pressure that usually ended up crushing one.

Maybe his anxiety about his job also stemmed from his constant worry about what use he could still hope to put his mind to, what might conceivably remain to lend some meaning to his life. He still had his family, of course. On the other hand, his parents were now old and batty, his brother was elsewhere, his wife was increasingly avoiding him, and it was hard to penetrate the darkness that enveloped her.