Only the Strongest Survive (18 page)

After a
while, the people around him began to irritate
and disgust him.

At one
o’clock, slightly drunk and fed up, he looked around for a woman
who could finish off his evening. It was too late to make an
appointment with one of the beauties from the catalogue, so he
drove to his old spot where around ten scantily-dressed women were
pacing the sidewalk.

He drove past
slowly the first time, looking at them carefully. They all puckered
their lips and stuck out their chests in the hope of attracting a
client. When he drove past for the second time, he stopped his
muddy vehicle in front of a girl who didn’t look like she was much
over eighteen. She kept shuffling from foot to foot, smiling, and
looking at her colleagues in the hope they would indicate to her
what she should do next. It was clear she was embarrassed and the
other women waved to her to get in the car. They were well aware of
the saying that opportunity knocks only once.

When they had
arrived at a hotel room twenty minutes later, the young woman
admitted that she had hardly any experience. “I’m very glad you’re
not really old,” she said, and laughed in a silly
fashion.

He watched her shuffling awkwardly and lit a
cigarette. “Take off your clothes,” he told her.

“I beg your pardon?”

He leaned
back lazily in the armchair, his legs apart, and then slowly
exhaled the smoke. “Take off your clothes so that I can see your
body.”

“But there’s no music.”

“Imagine there is.”

This was not
something she had anticipated. Frightened, she began unbuttoning
her skirt and swaying, with her legs pressed together, as if she
needed to go to the toilet. John watched the funny scene and felt
aroused. He dragged on his cigarette and poured beer down his
parched throat. Finally, when she was naked he spanked her bottom
so that the poor girl jumped onto the bed, shrieking.

John got out of the chair and nailed her to
the mattress. She was terrified and nearly cried for help, afraid
he was going to hit her. But he just threw himself on top of her
and took his pants off.

“Oh, you’re so heavy,” she said.

He rolled off
her like an old log and lay on his back. The girl was perfectly
still, not knowing what he wanted from her.

He
said,
“I don’t really feel like it. You
get on top of me.”

She was glad
to oblige and clambered on, then began kissing his neck and face
while rhythmically swaying her behind. She liked him but was afraid
of him because of his roughness. She had no way of knowing what
horrific pictures were going through John’s head and that he was
barely able to maintain his erection. Her colleagues had told her
that it would take ten minutes at the most. “Men are usually very
aroused and some can’t last even five minutes,” they had
said.

The
couple swapped positions, John on top. He was
like a rabbit, but what he really wanted was to clear his head. His
brain was tortured by images of a dead body, horrible smells, soil,
and darkness.
Emely, all the
time. What’s the matter with me? Why can’t she leave me
alone?

The young
girl kept
glancing at her watch in
despair. It had been an hour and a half already. They had been in
this position for so long that she was completely numb down there,
while her head was throbbing. She wanted him to leave her alone. If
she hadn’t been afraid of him she would have stopped it after ten
minutes and thrown his money back at him.

H
e began breathing deeply and
shaking like an old steam engine. He huffed and puffed and was glad
to have reached the end. It had been an arduous journey and he had
to try as hard as never before. He would have stopped long ago but
didn’t want to let those wretched hallucinations spoil his
evening.

The girl, on
the other hand, lay there exhausted, feeling like the bottom part
of her body had been severed. When she sat up her legs tingled and
the muscles of her behind hurt badly. She got up like an old
woman.

“Get dressed already. I haven’t got all
night,” he said.

When a few minutes later he dropped her off,
her colleagues shouted and laughed as the poor girl sat on a nearby
bench, looking pale. Her hair that a few hours earlier had been
fixed with hairspray, was now sticking up all over so that she
looked like an old broom. She had to light a cigarette
immediately.

Comforting
her and laughing to each other
, they
said, “You’ll get used to it.”

*

On the drive
home
John smoked cigarette after
cigarette so that the inside of the car looked like a Turkish
sauna.
What’s happening to me?
Why can’t she leave me alone?
For the
first time he doubted his belief that God did not exist. He put his
hand on his head and thought,
What if this is punishment for our horrible deed? Maybe I
should ask Ron if he’s experiencing anything like this.

John
slept badly that night. He dreamt that someone
had thrown him into the sea and had tied a heavy weight to his legs
that was pulling him down into the water … but by trying really
hard he was able to keep his head above the surface. So he thrashed
around, holding his head high to stop water getting into his lungs.
His strength was diminishing and he knew he wouldn’t last much
longer. Finally he gave in and felt an incredibly strong pain in
his lungs. He wanted to swim up and save himself but … he wanted to
scream …. And then he woke up. Breathing heavily and covered in
sweat, he stared at the ceiling for a while.

When he
closed his eyes again, he found himself in a dark grave
next to the dead Emely. He wanted to lift her
and pull her out, when soil began falling on top of them—large
quantities of soil.
Who’s
trying to bury me?

He wanted to
climb out but the soil was too heavy. His mouth was
dry with dirt and he was running out of air. He
began shouting.

*

The next day,
John had to sort some things out at home. When he
went into his apartment he found it empty and
strange, as if he had never lived there. For the first time he
became aware of the lack of any daylight in there, the furniture
seemed old, and the walls were yellow even though they were painted
white. He opened a small fridge and got rid of some sausages that
were starting to smell bad. The long ride had made him hungry.
Luckily he found a few canned goods and satisfied his hunger with
those.

He paid some
old bills, made a few phone calls
, and
lay on his bed in the hope of getting an hour’s sleep. His eyes
were smarting from lack of sleep and he knew that he’d soon get a
headache.
Maybe I really
should see a shrink,
he thought.
No, I have nothing to say to
him.

He felt an
incredible need to talk to someone,
though, anyone, to be hugged and comforted. Never in his
life had he felt so lonely. He thought of Emely and all the
wonderful moments he had spent with her recently and caught himself
imagining her hugging him and caressing him all night long.
I could confide in her.
He shook his head.
No, no, what could I tell her? That I have nightmares about
dead bodies? She’d tell me to let her go and everything would be
OK.
He took a quick breath.

How selfish I am, thinking only about my dreams. Who knows
what she dreams. After all
,
she’s the one who was buried alive. Maybe her dreams are a hundred
times worse than mine.
He put his chin in
his hands while his body shook with horror. A wave of freezing
coldness spread over him.

John
imagined thick tears running down Emely’s cheeks
and he was drying them with his lips. He moved his head and began
breathing calmly.
Then I’d
embrace her gently and stay like that all night.
The next moment he slapped his right cheek.
What stupid thoughts have been going
through my head! This crazy woman will make my head explode. I’m
turning into a sentimental sap. A real man shouldn’t behave like
this.

He lay on the
bed and slowly closed his eyes. A pleasant feeling
drifted from his head to his feet and he purred
like a cat. He could feel himself slipping away and entering a
place where there was perfect peace.

But only for those who deserved it.

*

John and Ronald were strolling around a
deserted construction site. A hole with a circumference of a few
yards appeared in front of them and John looked down to see how
deep it was. He was bending forward when he felt a hand on his back
push him in.

While he was
rolling down, his fingers tried to find a grip on the sharp stones
but kept sliding over them instead. Then he lay at the bottom,
looking up. When he had looked at it from above, the hole seemed
not much more than six feet deep, but now that he was in it, he saw
it was at least twice that. It was impossible for him to climb out.
He called to his brother to stop this silly game and help him out.
At that moment, his calls were interrupted by a loud noise of a
huge digger pushing an enormous heap of soil. Ronald was driving
the machine, laughing as loud as he could. John could not believe
his ears.

“
Ronald, no!
Stop it! Nooooo
….”

He was still
shouting for a few seconds after he opened his eyes and
saw the white walls in his bedroom. The clock on
the wall showed that he had slept for only twenty minutes. He wiped
his sweaty face on the sheet and decided to quickly do everything
he had to do and then return to the house in the woods.
To Emely,
he thought.

He called his
doctor and mentioned he was having trouble sleeping, and the doctor
told him to come pick up a prescription for three packets of
sleeping pills, which John did before seven in the evening. When he
had accomplished everything he intended to do, he stopped at his
local bar, where he had often spent his free time in the past. All
the neighbors and friends he used to drink with nearly every night
were there. As soon as they saw him, they welcomed him and
reproached him for keeping away so long. They asked him all sorts
of questions and teased him that he must have found a girl or
something. The first drink was followed by another and another and
before he realized how much time had passed it was eight
o’clock.
Oh no, Emely, the
poor thing has been in her room all day. I’ve got to go back so
that she can at least have a hot shower before bed.
He paid for the drinks and quickly took leave
from his drunken friends.

*

When Emely
heard the alarm at eleven o’clock, she
sighed.
Finally he’s
back.
It had been an incredibly boring
day. In the morning she didn’t bother to follow the trading on the
stock exchange because without John she couldn’t buy or sell
anything anyway. Immediately after finishing her morning fitness
routine she concentrated on the thoughts that were occupying her
mind most of the time:
How can
I escape from this hell?

She spent at
least two hours thinking, only to reach the same conclusion as
always.
The only solution is
to get his trust. Once he becomes less watchful, I’ll have to
launch a serious attack, without mercy.

After a while
her anger turned to sadness as her thoughts wandered to
Philip.
What’s he doing? Does
he think about me at all?
She could see
his face clearly and wished she could touch him.

Sally and her
other friends were also in
Emely’s
thoughts. She was no longer crying, the tears having turned into an
inner pain that was even worse than crying. Her heart felt as if
something was squeezing it and at times she had a feeling that her
insides were being torn apart. She had no energy or will to live.
For the first time in her life she was able to experience the
trials and tribulations that prisoners must endure. The thought of
having to spend the rest of her life in there made her
shudder.

She thought
of her company and felt a burning pain in her stomach.
I wonder who’s making all the crucial
decisions now.
Every day, she used to
have to sign invoices for amounts that were rarely less than a
hundred dollars. Now she could only hope that everything would be
alright.
I hired capable
people,
she told herself.

After spending time worrying she tried
reading a book, but could not get involved.

Where is he?
She kept
concentrating on the words in the book, trying to get engrossed in
the story. Her stomach still felt tense so she tried some breathing
exercises in order to calm herself. She felt as if she had stuffed
herself with something heavy and her digestive system had shut
down. It was her nerves, she knew, but was unable to help herself.
The words she was reading kept flying past without her really
absorbing them and often she had to go back to the beginning of a
paragraph.