Peter Pišťanek - The Wooden Village

As they go downhill, Freddy Piggybank brakes with the others; the swish of the tyres, the quiet clicking of the free wheel, and the occasional screech of the front brake awakens a strange nostalgia in him. He feels as if he has been through this before. Yet, Freddy realises that he could not have had this experience before; such a feeling of happy fulfilment occurred only in his childhood dreams, at the age when he was trying to assemble a bicycle, tormented by despair that his gang of classmates might escape from him on their bikes forever. Finally Freddy is now experiencing those happy moments in reality, too: a feeling of camaraderie mingling with the intoxication of cycling at speed. These are a few fleeting seconds of real bliss.

When the party is back at the Wooden Village, Feri and Eržika hide the bicycles in the broom closet.

“Who are we going to sell them to?” Piggybank asks Bartaloš.

“I have a man who’ll take anything,” says Feri. “He comes to the Wooden Village for beer. I’ll take a look, he could be here.”

“A collector?” Freddy asks.

“No,” Feri says, “he has a second-hand shop. He buys anything.”

Freddy Piggybank is amazed. That’s how he had imagined it. To be a criminal without a twinge of conscience! Let them all see! The whole of society can suffer Freddy’s vengeance for his horrible humiliation.

To celebrate his successful fall, he queues for a Montenegro steak.

* * *

A week later Eržika is once more patrolling the wooded park with her Algida on her chest. Bartaloš, Piggybank, and Fčilek crouch in the bushes and listen out for the familiar clicking of a bicycle free wheel.

A child comes towards Eržika on a mountain bicycle. He has trouble turning the pedals, since he can barely reach them. His expression is serious, as he’s sure that everybody is looking at him. At this precise moment, the child is quite right.

Proud Feri Bartaloš gestures from his hiding place to Eržika.

“Have an ice-cream, young man!” Eržika calls to the child.

The child stops and gets off his bicycle. He turns round, as if he is waiting for someone.

However, Feri and Fraňo have already burst out from the thicket. The child tries to shout, but Fčilek’s giant hand has gagged him. Freddy stands nearby; he likes being evil, very evil. He gets pleasure from seeing a child terrified. He hates children.

Just then, where the path bends, the child’s father and mother come riding on two more bicycles.

The gang immediately scatters. Eržika has already vanished; now Feri and Fraňo run for it, too.

Only Freddy Piggybank is slow to react. He notices that the man is braking and jumping off his bicycle. Not until then does he decide to run. Wheezing, he makes a run for it, but the vengeful child trips him up with his foot, and Freddy’s mouth hits the ground.

The man takes a leaps at Freddy. With his last ounce of strength, Freddy recovers and hurls himself into the darkest and thickest bush. The man jumps after him and grabs him by the shoulder. The fat man almost shits himself with fear. He throws himself to the ground like a big, plump weasel and slides under some branches and roots. He quickly slithers a few yards through the thorny undergrowth, hugging the ground and holding his panting breath, and plays dead. The blood pounds in his ears and he feels he is about to faint.

The child’s father seems to have taken the wrong direction. He is beating the bushes close by, but the sound recedes in the opposite direction. Piggybank’s face is dug deep into the soft moist black soil. He doesn’t breathe.

The man furiously combs the bushes for a while and then gives up. Silence reigns.

Freddy can’t believe his luck. For a long while he stays motionless, hugging the ground. The adrenaline level in his blood slowly goes down. His genitals start to hurt from the stress. He can feel ants crawling over his hands and the back of his neck. He shakes them off. Finally, he finds the courage to emerge cautiously from the bushes. Only now does he feel burning pain on his face and hands, scratched by rushing through the thorny undergrowth.

The wooded park is abandoned. Freddy dusts the soil off his trousers and jacket and sets out for the trolley-bus stop.

When he arrives in the Wooden Village, he finds Bartaloš, Eržika, and Fraňo Fčilek sitting with their heads mournfully bent over their beer.

“What’s going on?” Piggybank asks, when he joins them.

“The bastard boss came,” Feri Bartaloš says. “He says he doesn’t need us anymore. He says we can pack up and go.”

“He fired you?” Freddy asks.

Proud Feri Bartaloš nods. Yes, the bastard boss fired Feri and Eržika. He says he’s not satisfied with them. But Freddy can say: was there ever any mess? Wasn’t the lavatory always clean? And the sink, too? But the bastard boss didn’t fire them because of the mess. When they had Lady, Feri and Eržika paid him huge sums of money. Now Lady’s dead. How can they get as much money as the bastard boss is demanding?

Freddy nods, pretending to be concerned.

The bastard boss appears at the counter.

“Are you still here?” he asks Feri Bartaloš sternly.

Proud Feri Bartaloš keeps a dignified silence and avoids his gaze.

But Eržika is outraged. What business is it of his? Eržika and Feri are customers, if you don’t mind. They’re as good as anyone else. They are sitting here having a beer. By the way, the beer is foul. And warm. Kindly bring the Customers’ Complaints Book at once!

The bastard boss can’t believe his ears. He clenches his tiny fists and his eyes pop even more than before.

“The Customers’ Complaints Book?” he asks. “I’ll show you the Customers’ Complaints Book. Get out of here right now!”

The manager arouses the attention of everyone around. The permanently drunk and stinking Majerník and his parasitic band of savages are only mildly entertained. The hairy poets with rucksacks on their backs are amused: Feri had often drenched them with a bucket of dirty water when he wanted to stop their competitive recitals. The stokers and the other beer drinkers are, however, upset. They quietly mutter in protest. Feri and Eržika are their friends: why can’t they sit here?

The bastard boss motions to Four-Eyes who is standing by in his white coat, following everything that is happening. Four-Eyes is glad to help; he’s been sick of Feri and Eržika for a long time.

“Throw them out!” says the manager and points to the Bartaloš couple. Four-Eyes nods.

“Get moving, you stinking bastards!” he says and grabs proud Feri Bartaloš by the neck.

Eržika begins to scream in a shrill high-pitched voice.

The whole of the Wooden Village follows the quarrel at their table.

Four-Eyes drags Feri off his bench and won’t even let him finish his beer. Bartaloš is quite submissive, he’s afraid of the tall bony man. But Eržika is not afraid. She takes a beer mug and smashes it from behind over Four-Eyes’s bony round head. Four-Eyes turns round. Behind the lenses of his black glasses his one eye fills with blood.

“You stinking turd!” he says and slaps Eržika’s face.

It would have been better if killer Fraňo Fčilek hadn’t seen that. Whatever he may be, he’s still a gentleman. He gets up and taps Four-Eyes on the shoulder. The tall man turns and offers his face to Fčilek’s withering blow.

The dark glasses fly all the way to the pavement. Something cracks, like a branch snapping, and Four-Eyes’s white teeth fall onto the asphalt. Four-Eyes silently collapses to the ground.

Eržika’s screams are drowned out by a much louder sound, as if a circular saw and a siren were switched on simultaneously. Four-Eyes’s wife, sitting by the lavatories, has seen what Fčilek did to her husband.