Catapult Read online

  Jacek Jost pushed his raincoat aside and stood up, stared at Nada’s inquisitive face, and went out of the compartment into the corridor, where, badly shaken, he staggered and clutched at doors and walls, locked himself in the little room at the end of the car, and looked at himself in a quivering mirror.

  Lenka is on her way to school now to pick up Lenicka, in her bag a bottle of milk and on her palm calluses from that eternal bag, even on Sundays she doesn’t get enough sleep, she never leaves anything undone, a wife a hundred times better than we deserve, so loving, never with anyone else but you, and she’s a perfect mother to our clever, pretty little girl, Sunday mornings we take her into bed with us and after lunch we go to the zoo. It’s true, in our civilized age the life of a father doesn’t offer many experiences that are particularly exciting, in fact it doesn’t offer any, however, instead of that—but five years of married life without the least shadow of infidelity aren’t worth spoiling now for the sake of that.

  Jacek Jost washed his hands and face with cold water and went back along the vibrating corridor to compartment E, he stopped short in the door—Trost was lounging on his seat, No. 64, alongside Vlasta on No. 62, he had even dared to take his coat with him and to hang Jacek’s opposite, above No. 63, “Excuse me,” he blared with his hand already resting on the shoulder of his new neighbor, Vlasta, “but in Brno you said that you wanted to sit there, and anyway that’s the seat you’ve got a reservation for!”

  “We worked it out this way,” Vlasta giggled.

  “Of course, only if you don’t mind…,” Nada added sweetly from the window, Jacek shrugged his shoulders and settled down very close to her on the green imitation leather seat. To be thrown out of your seat three times is obviously good luck on purpose, all the more when all flights have the same direction—when catapulted, there’s nothing to do but fly.

  The train sped smoothly over the remaining hundred kilometers, no one else would come in now. Opposite the mutual and constantly growing admiration of Trost and his already “darling” Vlasta, Jacek and Nada sat together on the settee designated for them, Nos. 61/63, and in the rocking rhythm of the warm green waves of the imitation leather seats they swam out toward the sun. The eleventh and final tunnel came just before Prague. Even before, Trost was panting heavily on darling Vlasta’s neck, the golden aurochs had already fulfilled its fairy-tale destiny, and in the glowing eleventh tunnel the happy prince, no longer bewitched, kissed his laughing princess, now at last released from her wall.

  When they got out at Prague the other two disappeared, and Jacek and Nada easily caught the 4:45 to Berlin.

  “All my life I’ve never gone any farther on this train…,” Jacek whispered as it pulled into the station at Usti, and Nada grinned. Fine nylon lines twitched painfully on his wrists and ankles and around his body, the sensation of tugging straps with felt lining, like a horse’s harness, and the train pulled silently out along the shore and down the springtime river, but then Decin is only twenty minutes from Usti and the next stop on the express.

  I — two

  A feeling of vertigo on leaving the Decin station, the stream of passengers quickly poured into buses and streetcars, all going by the shortest route to their Lenickas and Lenkas…. Jacek Jost was suddenly left alone on the empty sidewalk with Nada.

  “What sort of program do you propose, my lord?” she said.

  “Dinner with champagne, dancing, two cognacs, and the longest way home to your place….”

  “Hmm, I’ve read that somewhere. How about a swim?”

  “Now?!—”

  “Why not? I don’t have hot water at home and the baths are only a few steps away. But we’ve got to hurry.”

  “But I don’t have any trunks and….”

  “Leave it to me.”

  They seemed to be closing up the baths, but Nada had no problem arranging things, laughing she picked out a large pair of canvas trunks for Jacek. As for Nada, she had her own, the warm glow of golden brown flesh in stiff white nylon, “How do you like me?”

  “Very much,” said Jacek, self-consciously drawing together the excess folds of his bathing suit, “you don’t have to give your opinion of me.”

  “Except for the fabric, you’ll do,” laughed Nada, she pushed Jacek off the edge into the pool, he swallowed a lot of chlorinated water and as soon as, sputtering, he could see again, he grabbed her legs and pulled her in with him, they dunked and pushed each other around, she taught him the proper way to dunk and he taught her how to make a star, and in the glow of floodlights they swam together in the warm green waves.

  “And now for dinner!” Nada cried on the dark, now silent street illuminated by the flickering light of TV sets in the homes they passed.

  “What’s the best you’ve got here?”

  “The Grand, I suppose, but you can’t smoke there and there’s a lot of unnecessary hoity-toity. I know a great place, even if it is third-category.”

  “Whatever you want, but…”

  Nada’s third-category didn’t look too bad, no more than ten tables with checkered tablecloths, bright landscapes in thick frames of stained wood, and above a copper counter a stag’s antlers with fourteen points, Jacek sat with his back to it, wondering whether the place would have champagne.

  “Boy am I thirsty,” said Nada. “Two beers, Mrs. Vasata.”

  On the menu the only stand-out was something called Belgrade cutlet, otherwise just some humdrum dishes, and chocolate pudding.

  “Two Belgrades—” was the order Jacek gave to Mrs. Vasata.

  “Jacek, I’d much rather have the Slovak sausage… Don’t you like it?”

  “Very much, but after all…”

  “So, two helpings of the Slovak with bacon… And a heap of peppers in oil!”

  It was a wonderful meal, the beer was smooth and light, in the corner by the cast-iron stove sat a group of boys singing along with a guitar, their heads turned up toward the low ceiling:

  Blue mists on the lake

  Vanished like far-off desire

  “You’re wonderful, Nada, really, and I…”

  “Oh shush! Listen to those kids instead.”

  “No, really… I just wanted to let you know… You see, I’m really not used to… There are circumstances which… which…”

  “You want to tell me something about yourself?”

  “Look, Nada, I don’t have to tell you again, really… that… well… Of course…”

  “Will you tell me without lying?”

  “No, Nada, look, I only thought…”

  “You won’t. Then don’t tell me anything.”

  Oo, oo, the song of the Manitou.

  “You’re really such a special girl, that really…”

  “Oh shush with that, I know when it’s April Fools’ Day. Tell me something more about Opatije in Yugoslavia. I may go there this summer.”

  “You tell something, you do it better…”

  Jacek ran his fingers along the ridge of his hand and, really quite involuntarily, he looked at his watch: 10:07. Lenicka has been asleep for a long time with her thumb in her mouth, while Lenka, worried, has put the bottle of milk away in the refrigerator and she’ll stay up until the arrival of the night express, he ran his fingers along his wrist and looked straight into Nada’s expectant face.

  There the redskins stood,

  Wild horses flew,

  Oo, oo, the song of the Manitou.

  Suddenly he stood up. “Let’s go—” Nada was already on her feet.

  The restless gray of TV screens flickered out onto the dark, empty street. “I live over there,” Nada pointed, it was hardly more than a hundred and fifty feet away, and: “We really stuffed ourselves, didn’t we?” she said, and then she stopped. She wasn’t making it any too easy, what could you talk about in the course of a hundred and fifty feet, and to kiss in front of a restaurant—

  “Isn’t there a park over there?” Jacek pointed at random.

  “In the opposite direction. Why?�
�

  “Nothing, I just thought… You know what, we could have those two cognacs now.”

  “I’d prefer Egyptian brandy… But that’s awfully expensive.”

  “So let’s have six of them!”

  “OK, Jacek dear, I’ve already come to realize that you’re the rich señor from Rio, but—”

  “From Usti nad Labem, and I make 1,800 a month, but—”

  “—but what do you really care for most? No pretending.”

  “Nadenka…”

  “You see. So come on.”

  Quickly they traversed those hundred and fifty feet in silence, and inside the lobby Jacek tried to at least pinch her, but Nada pushed him away: “I smell sauerkraut, phooey—” she laughed quietly, and she pushed him toward the stairs.

  Nada’s room wasn’t very big, a couple of pieces of light-colored furniture and a cream-colored kitchen chair, a large bay window looking out on the harbor, and beside it a drafting board on a stand. Jacek played with the jointed weight-beam, tried out the T square, and managed to recall a couple of drafting techniques.

  “You look as if you knew something about that sort of thing.”

  “At technical school I majored in construction.”

  “I thought you said you were a chemist.”

  “After high school I wanted to study architecture, but that was the year they transferred the school away from Brno, so I had to take chemistry instead.”

  “Which they’d just transferred to Brno.”

  “No, they had it there already.”

  “Then why didn’t you start with it?”

  “Because I wanted to be an architect.”

  “But why didn’t you become one?”

  “Because they transferred the… For whom does everything turn out the way he wants…”

  “For me, for instance. And how did you get from Brno to Usti?”

  “Laugh if you must, but they transferred me.”

  “That is something to laugh about. And what, really, do you do in the chemical factory there?”

  “It’s actually a textile mill, you know, for cotton… But I don’t have much to do with it, I travel mostly, our main office is in Brno.”

  “That’s not something to laugh about—Jacek, Jacek, you can build houses and concoct explosives, and you’re a traveling man in textiles…”

  “You know, I didn’t have things easy and there was the pressure of circumstances which… which…”

  “…which kept pushing you somewhere, or there was a vacuum which kept sucking you somewhere— Like me from the train here.”

  “But I really did want to come with you…”

  “So you only had to wait for the pushing and the sucking to work.”

  “Life often…”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  OK, sure, laugh all you want, but why really?, and then in an animated tone carry on your pre-rutting conversation, why really?, still Jacek stubbornly tried to talk, but in silence Nada looked into his eyes with ever growing derision, finally she yawned, without even putting her hand over her mouth, and heedlessly interrupted Jacek in the middle of a sentence: “I think you’re sleepy too.”

  “Nadenka…”

  “Wouldn’t you rather get some sleep… before…?”

  Jacek got up quickly and embraced her, no easy task since she remained seated in her chair, still he tried, he hunched his shoulders, bent over, attempted different approaches, knelt down, sat on the floor for a moment and then got up again, just cooperate a little for God’s sake—how could one cope with the difference in height, bend one leg at the knee and spread the other far out in back, that might do it, a little more, on the edge of the sole and now on tiptoe—but everything suddenly gave way with thunder and the cracking of wood, everything landed on the floor, and behind the overturned chair Nada was shrieking with laughter.

  He’d had it up to here with these April Fools’ jokes, he stepped over the legs and seat of the chair and as if storming a trench he attacked Nada from behind, an open cuff link cut him on the wrist, let’s hope it isn’t an artery, on, on with hand-to-hand combat, but hell, how does that unbutton, how many years has it been now since Lenka and I, Nada was laughing again, they make them without buttons now, sure, but howdo you—

  “I haven’t got the stamina for this,” Nada finally said, and she got up and went to the door. “But never fear, I’ll be back.”

  Sure, enough reasons to clear out of here for good, but when wasted opportunities pain you so much later on, and then come depression and neurosis—if it weren’t for fear of them, we’d have long ago been at home in bed—what a joy it will be to find out how little is left when forbidden pleasures have been realized and then we’ll be glad to get home again, sure, meanwhile why not make the bed, and Jacek, as he was accustomed to do at home, spread out the sheet, tucked it in neatly at the corners and smoothed it out, put the plumped-up pillow at the head, and carefully turned down the blanket, then he stood a while admiring his decorating efforts. “You don’t want coffee now, do you?” came from behind the door, “No,” he called, as was expected of him, he turned off the light, undressed, and climbed into bed.

  Nada came back in a black bathrobe and turned the light back on. “I knew you wanted to sleep.”

  “No, no I…”

  “So let’s get some sleep, all right? Do you have anything against making love in the morning?”

  “OK, Nadenka, I’ve come to realize that you’re the unconventional girl in a Swedish movie, but—”

  “Look at him, he’s almost turned into a man in that bed. OK, I’ll take charge now. Get up— oh, I see…” Nada took a nightgown out of a drawer, threw it to Jacek, and again went out, while Jacek put on the gown Nada pushed the other kitchen chair into the room, placed the two chairs opposite each other, sat down on one of them and said, “Come and sit across from me.”

  “Still the Swedish film?”

  “No, it’s a game now.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “Train. Let’s start at the beginning. Come here.”

  Before Jacek could sit down, she’d brought in his coat over her arm, a hammer under her arm, and a nail in her teeth, she pounded the nail into the wall above his chair and sat down on her own across from him.

  “Your ticket says seat No. 63, but you’re sitting in No. 64,” she said. “You’d like to sleep and you don’t want to be awakened by somebody trying to claim your seat. Oo—oo—we’re pulling out of Brno, ch-ch-ch-ch—so far you’ve never missed the 4:45 to Berlin. By six you’ll be home in Usti. Now throw the coat in front of yourself and close your eyes. Ch-ch-ch-ch—”

  Jacek shrugged his shoulders under the open-work nightgown with a bow, still April Fools’, but at least the masquerade would come to an end now, he hung his wrinkled old raincoat on the nail and threw it in front of himself, why didn’t we take the new iridescent, he closed his eyes.

  “Repeat after me: ch-ch-ch-ch,” Nada whispered.

  “Ch-ch-ch-ch,” Jacek whispered diligently behind his coat.

  “Ch-ch-ch—I liked you the first time I saw you—ch-ch-ch-ch—I wanted to get to know you—ch-ch-ch-ch—you didn’t pay any attention to me—ch-ch-ch-ch—so I’ll wait until you get a little sleep—ch-ch—repeat after me: ch-ch.”

  “Ch-ch-ch-ch.”

  “Ch-ch-ch-ch—now you’ve been sleeping for an hour—ch-chch-ch—if you’d only go to the dining car to eat— ch-ch-ch-ch—but what to do with that stupid Vlasta— ch-ch-ch-ch—let’s wait till Trebova and by then we’ll think of something—ch-ch. And here we are at last, bang—smash! The trains crash and Jacek is flying toward me—”

  Nada stamped her foot, Jacek jumped up from his chair and came to rest on Nada, then he grabbed her shoulders and breasts, fell kneeling to the floor, his face in her lap, and then, when he set his right cheek on her thigh and looked up, he saw the girl smile and saw his pale hands on her black bathrobe.

  “Dear Jacek…,” Nada said tenderly, and wit
h warm hands she pressed his hands to her, the magic of the eleventh tunnel returned and quickly grew.

  “I like you, Nadenka…”

  “Don’t tell lies, go back and sit down again. Crawl behind your coat, sleep some more and repeat after me: ch-ch-ch-ch.”

  “Ch-ch—but I didn’t go to sleep after that—ch-ch-ch-ch.”

  “Ch-ch—I’m glad of that—ch-ch—but what were you doing behind that coat—ch-ch-ch-ch.”

  “I was thinking of you—ch-ch-ch-ch—I was remembering what you looked like—ch-ch-ch-ch—I was longing for you—”

  “And you didn’t even open your eyes, my sleepy man—ch-chch-ch—I always wanted a man like you—ch-ch- ch-ch—slim 23-year-old blonde looking for a man—”

  “Ch-ch—number sixty-one is called Nada, Nadezda—ch-ch-chch.”

  “I never knew a man like you—ch-ch-ch-ch—I always wanted to have one—ch-ch-ch-ch.”

  “Ch-ch-ch-ch—the Residence, the Belvedere, the Jeannette, the Palma, the Stefanie, the Kvarner, the Naiad, the Speranza, and Speranza is the same as Nadezda! Nada, I love you—”