Peter Pišťanek - The Wooden Village

“ Zwei tausend ,” he repeats. “ Wenn wollen Kinder kaufen, um zehn Stunde hier . If you want to buy the baby, come here at ten.”

Feri shows his wristwatch and points his finger at ten. Then he runs back to the Wooden Village.

The Heiligs are stunned.

“Did you understand him?” asks Siegfried Heilig.

“I think I did,” says Mrs Heilig. “Didn’t you?”

“I did, too.” Heilig says.

They silently pass the façade of the hotel Ambassador.

Heilig gives his wife a close look. Her long silence is getting on his nerves.

“Don’t tell me you want to buy that baby!” he blurts out.

Mrs Heilig raises her head and looks at him.

“I’ll do anything to have that baby,” she says firmly.

“You’re stupid,” says Heilig. “It’s too risky!”

“Risky!” Mrs Heilig says contemptuously. “As soon as I saw the baby, I decided to take it. I knew right away that it was our child. Do you understand? Not theirs, but ours!”

“You’re insane!” Heilig says in disgust.

“I don’t understand how it could be that our child was born to those two,” Mrs Heilig ponders aloud.

“It’s not our child,” Heilig says.

“Yes, it is,” says Mrs Heilig. “Even the baby senses it. It’s ours!”

“You need to see a psychiatrist,” the husband suggests.

“Pay for the hotel,” says Mrs Heilig. “We’re leaving right away. At ten, we get our little girl from that man; we’ll pay him off, and set off for Prague. Are you listening to me at all?”

Heilig is startled.

“And what’s the name of our little girl?” he asks his wife.

“Well, Felicitas, of course,” says Mrs Heilig. “Felicitas Heilig.”

* * *

Around ten o’clock, Feri sends Eržika to unblock the men’s lavatory. When Eržika is out of sight in the lavatory, Bartaloš takes Lady from her pram, taking care that he can’t be seen from the snack bar, and hurries to the front of the Ambassador, to the place he indicated to the Germans.

The Heiligs are already waiting for him.

“Bitte!” says proud Feri Bartaloš and hands the child to Mrs Heilig.

Siegfried Heilig motions him to follow them to the car.

The Volkswagen is already loaded and ready to leave. Mrs Heilig takes the baby and sits in the back; Heilig points Feri to the passenger seat; he himself sits in the driver’s seat. He takes out his wallet and counts two thousand marks into Bartaloš’s trembling hand.

“ Danke schön ,” says Feri. “ Viel Glück , good luck!”

He slides out of the car like a snake.

When he runs into the Wooden Village, Eržika is already pacing up and down, desperately looking for Lady.

“Where is Lady?”

“They kidnapped her!” says Feri says.

“Who?” the horrified Eržika asks.

“Those bloody Germans! I ran after them, but they got in their car and took off.”

“What car?” shouts Eržika.

“A white Mercedes,” Feri lies.

Without a word, Eržika runs after the policemen who are patrolling outside the Ambassador.

In his pocket Feri feels the four five-hundred-mark banknotes and their silky surface calms him down.

* * *

Needless to say, Lady’s kidnappers were never caught.

For some time, it seemed as if the wind had been knocked out of Eržika, but then she got over the loss of her child. Her fickle character reconciled her to the situation, especially as it meant that she had one less thing to worry about.

Proud Feri Bartaloš is broke again; he has lost the lot. The savings account is empty and closed. The money he got from selling Lady was to be used to win everything back. It didn’t work. Feri is tearing his hair. He could at least have had a child, now he has shit-all.

The card group has acquired another gypsy, Šípoš’s brother. This renewed Feri’s optimism and his will to play and win. Šípoš junior seems to have trouble counting up to five. When he plays he sometimes even confuses the jack and the queen. He loses badly. But his brother wins it all. Unfortunately, Feri isn’t doing as well as he thought he would. Lately, he’s been toying with the idea that the gypsies might be cheating him. He sits in the boiler-room, holding his cards close to his vest and keeping an eagle eye on the other players, Berki, Čonka, and the two Šípoš brothers. No suspicious move could escape him, but the gypsies don’t make any suspicious moves. They hardly move at all. When Feri looks at his cards they exchange discreet eye signals.

Eržika now has more work than she can cope with. She is faced not only with the lavatories, but with Feri’s work, too. These days he’s rarely to be seen in the Wooden Village. He is always off somewhere. “Got to make money,” he emphasizes. He wants to take good care of his wife. You can’t make any money here in the snack bar. Things have been going from bad to worse for Feri and Eržika ever since Lady died. That’s why Feri is looking for new openings.

Eržika says nothing. She’s modest, obedient, and hard-working. Because she’s working so hard, she has quickly stopped grieving for Lady. The police have got nowhere and the little girl seems lost for good; in any case, Eržika has already got over it.

On Tuesday, Feri and Eržika are off. Feri brings a wooden box from somewhere. He paints it white and leaves it to dry in the boiler-room. He carefully removes from a parked van, a big self-adhesive sign Algida Ice-Cream and sticks it on the front of the wooden box.

“What’s it going to be, when it’s ready?” Freddy Piggybank asks, looking at Feri’s enthusiastic efforts.

“Can’t you see?” Feri asks. “Ice-cream!”

“What about it?” the fat attendant won’t be fobbed off.

“Why don’t you bring me your collection bag?” Feri says. “Better, two. Do you have two bags?”

“I do,” Piggybank says. He had one for the weekdays and one for holidays.

Remembering the good old days at the car park, Freddy gets soppy and sentimental. The feeling doesn’t last long. That’s all over; now he has to look ahead. “And what do I get?” he asks Bartaloš.

“A share of the profit,” promises Feri.

Piggybank has no more questions; he brings two red leatherette bags from his trailer.

Bartaloš takes off the straps and nails them to the box. Then he tries it on; the Algida hangs on his chest like an accordion. “What do you think?” he winks at Piggybank.

“OK,” says Freddy. “And what next?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Feri says mysteriously. “But we have to wait until Fraňo Fčilek comes, so that I don’t have to explain it twice.”

“Is that box part of the plan?” Freddy asks, pointing at it.

“You’ll see,” Feri Bartaloš laughs.

* * *

On Saturday morning, Feri Bartaloš, Fraňo Fčilek, Freddy Piggybank and Eržika set out from the Wooden Village. From the hotel Ambassador they take a trolley bus to a wooded park outside the city. This is where they separate. Each of them knows what to do. Eržika gets the ice-cream box, slings it over her chest and walks further down the neat criss-crossing paths to the outlying parts of the park.

Feri, Freddy, and Fraňo follow her along a parallel path. Soon Feri signals Eržika with a quiet whistle. Eržika comes to a halt where two paths intersect. Her companions hide in the bushes. Feri presses his finger to his lips: talking strictly forbidden.

Freddy Piggybank is more excited than the others. His path to the lower depths of society will be completed by this act. His longing for a criminal future in order to punish the disgusting city council for beggaring him will soon be satisfied.

Soon they all hear the muffled, but distinct rattling sound of a bicycle approaching. A child on a mountain bike is coming towards Eržika. The mountain bike is big and the child is small: it sits on it like a monkey on an elephant. Feri takes a look at his companions. He gestures to them to get ready.