Ivan Klima - Waiting for the Dark, Waiting for the Light

Perhaps she was genuinely interested in him after all.

'If only. If only you were making the decisions.' He paused. 'It would be nice. But I can scarcely imagine it myself. I haven't even thought about it much. I'm not in the habit of thinking ahead. I've spent so long up to my neck in the present. It was like a spider's web with a lot of spiders in it, not just one. They lay in wait for you at every corner of the web. Once you got caught in it you couldn't get free. And they didn't suck your blood right away, they'd just very slowly wind you into their web: they'd approve this, censor that, come down on you for showing something that shouldn't be shown, or for not showing something that should have been shown. They'd involve you in meetings, briefings, political training sessions where you were told how to work by people who'd never done anything in their lives. If you told them what you thought of them, you'd be fired on the spot. Sometimes I thought I couldn't take it any longer.'

'But you took it.'

He nodded. He still wanted to find a way to vindicate himself in her eyes. He explained that the world could not be neatly and clearly divided by a line that separated good from evil, that separated him from her. 'When I was in Mexico we got to see a television studio,' he said, recalling an incident that had brought this truth home to him. 'They showed us their fantastic equipment. Their network is well

endowed and it's in a wealthy neighbourhood. We thought we might be able to find a spot nearby to get a view of Popocatepetl. So we walked up a hill past magnificent villas and luxurious haciendas and all of a sudden, it was as though we'd stepped over an invisible borderline. We found ourselves surrounded by shacks nailed together from old crates and sheet metal. The paving came to an abrupt end and the streets were a sea of mud with lots of children wading in it. Some of them shouted at us and begged for money; an adolescent mestiza invited us into a shack that didn't even have a door. Then a little girl in tattered rags ran up to us. She was barely four, and she held out a wilted flower, a chrysanthemum or something, and tried to sell it to us. That's when I thought that no matter where you are, you get tangled up in some kind of spider's web that you can't get free of.'

'Wait a minute, look at this,' she said, interrupting him.

They were now broadcasting a clip of the student demonstration that had started the whole thing. It showed the moments before the police attacked: a phalanx of men in uniforms with plastic shields protecting their faces, a crowd of students singing the national anthem, girls sticking flowers in the policemen's shields. There was no movement, each side waiting for the other to advance, young men and women sitting on the ground with burning candles set on the paving-stones in front of them, chanting: Our hands are empty! Then the phalanx of policemen began to shuffle forward. The first frenzied punches. Screams of pain, and then the noise of crunching blows, angry shouts, the pounding of boots on the pavement, the cries of the beaten.

Alice sobbed. There was absolute silence. Everyone was looking at the screen. Once it was over, Alice wiped her eyes. 'That was awful,' she said quietly, 'But the fact that you broadcast it, that's. . it's the beginning of freedom.' She embraced him. For a moment all he could see was the dark blue of her eyes, which were again full of tears.

Back at television headquarters he went straight into the garage, where a very emotional meeting was just winding up. They were discussing, as they had been constantly

over the past few days, whether future demonstrations should be broadcast live. The management were still refusing to allow this. Most of the technical staff, as Little Ivens told him when he sat down beside him, were making live broadcasts an unconditional demand, otherwise they were prepared to go on strike. 'Are you going to get up and say something?'

'I don't know what's already been said.'

'It's obvious we should do it live. After all, we broadcast every stupid hockey game live,' said Little Ivens.

Pavel nodded. He listened for a while to the passionate speeches, speeches that he would have found entirely persuasive and reasonable were they not being delivered by the very same people who, only a few days before, had been willing to say the exact opposite. During the day, when he had been running from faculty to faculty and freezing on the square, the course of events had apparently shifted so radically that the trend now seemed almost irreversible. That was why everyone was scurrying over to the side of the victors before it was too late.

But who' would testify on their behalf should they all be considered the losers?

We have no witnesses, we have no one to appeal to and our work will be used against us.

He dialled a familiar number. 'Is that you, Ali? You're not asleep yet?'

'No, not yet. I'm reading. I don't even know what time it is. Has something happened?'

'No, nothing. It's just that I can't get to sleep.'

'I'm glad you called.'

'I've been lying here for an hour staring at the ceiling. I see beetles swarming about up there. They're having races. I'm watching them and betting on this angry beetle who's losing and biting the leg of the one in front of him. Then I realized they're not beetles, they're people. I can even recognize their faces.'

'Darling, is something wrong?'

'No, nothing, it's just those beetles. They're closing in on me.'

'Have you been drinking?'

'It's beetles I'm seeing, not white mice.'

'Should I come over?'

'It's too late.'

'But I'm used to that. You know I'm used to night shifts.'

"That's different. But I'd like to see you. I'll drive over and pick you up. At least you'll see I haven't been drinking.'

'You don't have to come for me. I'll take a taxi.'

She was there in half an hour. She kissed him standing in the doorway. 'Aren't you feeling well?'

'Why do you think that?'

'I can tell'

'I'm a lot better now. I suddenly felt I couldn't breathe, but it was just a brief sensation.'

'Should I call a doctor?'

'I can't stand doctors. Only someone afraid to take his own life will put himself in the hands of doctors.'

'Then you should lie down at least.' She made him swallow a pill, then put a cold compress on the left side of his chest.

'The work's been piling up on me,' he said. 'I have to finish everything before I go, and there's so little time left.'

'Don't talk to me about your work, or about going!' She put her hand on his forehead. Her hand was soft and warm and smelt of leaves.

'When I come back, we'll get married,' he said.

'I know. But we don't have to get married. It's not important.'

'Fine. Come and lie down with me.'

'I'd rather sit beside you.'

'Lie down with me. I want you to be as close to me as possible.'

'You want me as close as possible, and yet you're going away to the other side of the world.'

He watched her undress. 'I'll only be gone a month, but if you don't want me to go, I won't.'

'No, I don't want anything of the kind. I just feel anxious. But it's no big deal. It's my condition.'

'There's nothing to be afraid of. I'll come back whenever you want.'

'It's not you who decides when you come back. You

can't just go and leave the rest of them there.'

'I've always made my own decisions.'

'Don't be so arrogant. No one ever makes decisions about himself alone.'

'So who makes them, then?'

'God, or the angels.'

His boss, Halama, was warning them not to get caught up in the mood of the crowds. Of course, we're all trying to improve living and working conditions and achieve greater freedom, but at this moment in time the very foundations of our system are in danger — everything that generations have worked for, that people have not hesitated to give their lives for.