Read The Notebook + The Proof + The Third Lie Online
Authors: Agota Kristof
He fumbles in his pockets under his cloak and gives us a few coins. We take them and say:
"That's not very much. It's too little. It isn't even enough to buy a loaf of bread."
He says:
"I'm sorry. There are a lot of poor people. And the faithful have almost stopped giving offerings. Everybody is in difficulties at the moment. Off with you now, and God bless you!"
We say:
"We can accept this sum for today, but we will have to come back tomorrow."
"What? What is that supposed to mean? Tomorrow? I shan't let you in. Get out of here immediately."
"Tomorrow we will ring the bell until you let us in. We will knock at the windows, we will kick at your door and tell everybody what you did to Harelip."
"I never did anything to Harelip. I don't even know who she is. She must be making these things up. The stories of a mentally deficient child will not be taken seriously. No one will believe you. Everything she says is untrue!"
We say:
"It hardly matters whether it's true or false. The point is the slander. People love scandal."
The priest sits down on a chair and mops his face with a handkerchief.
"It's monstrous. Have you any idea what you're doing?"
"Yes, sir. Blackmail."
"At your age . . . It's deplorable."
"Yes, it's deplorable that we've been forced to this. But Harelip and her mother absolutely need money."
The priest gets up, takes off his cloak, and says:
"It is a trial sent from God. How much do you want? I'm not rich, you know."
"Ten times what you have already given us. Once a week. We aren't asking you for the impossible."
He takes the money out of his pocket and gives it to us:
"Come every Saturday. But don't imagine for a moment that I'm doing this because I'm giving in to your blackmail. I'm doing it out of charity."
We say:
"That's exactly what we expected of you, Father."
Accusations
One afternoon the orderly comes into the kitchen. We haven't seen him for a long time. He says:
"You come help unload jeep?"
We put on our boots and follow him out to the jeep, which is parked on the road in front of the garden gate. The orderly hands us crates and cardboard boxes, which we carry into the officer's room.
We ask:
"Is the officer coming this evening? We still haven't ever seen him."
The orderly says:
"Officer no come winter here. Perhaps come never. He unhappy in love. Perhaps find another later. Forget. Stories like that not for you. You bring wood to heat room."
We bring wood and make a fire in the small metal stove. The orderly opens the crates and boxes and puts on the table bottles of wine, brandy, beer, and lots of things to eat: sausages, cans of meat and vegetables, rice, biscuits, chocolate, sugar, and coffee.
The orderly opens a bottle, starts to drink, and says:
"I heat food in mess kit on camp stove. Tonight eat, drink, sing with friends. Celebrate victory against the enemy. We soon win war with new wonder weapon."
We ask:
"So the war will be over soon?"
He says:
"Yes, very soon. Why you look like that at food on the table? If you hungry, eat chocolate, biscuits, sausage."
We say:
"There are people dying of hunger."
"So what? No think of that. Many people die of hunger or other things. We no think. We eat and not die."
He laughs. We say:
"We know a blind, deaf woman who lives near here with her daughter. They won't survive this winter."
"Is not my fault."
"Yes, it is your fault. Yours and your country's. You brought us the war."
"Before the war, how they do to eat, the blind woman and daughter?"
"Before the war, they lived on charity. People gave them old clothes and shoes. They brought them food. Now nobody gives anything anymore. People are all poor or are afraid of becoming so. The war has made them stingy and selfish."
The orderly shouts:
"I no care all that! Enough! Silence!"
"Yes, you don't care, and you eat our food."
"Not your food. I take that in barracks stores."
"Everything on that table comes from our country: the drinks, the canned food, the biscuits, the sugar. Our country feeds your army."
The orderly goes red in the face. He sits down on the bed and holds his head in his hands:
"You think I want war and come to your filthy country? I much better at home, quiet, make chairs and tables. Drink wine of my country, have fun with nice girls at home. Here everybody unkind, you too, little children. You say all my fault. What I can do? If I say I no go to war, no come in your country, I shot. You take all, go take all on table. Celebration finished. I sad, you too mean with me."
We say:
"We don't want to take everything, just a few cans and a little chocolate. But from time to time, at least during the winter, you could bring us some powdered milk, flour, or anything else to eat."
He says:
"Good. That I can. You come with me tomorrow to blind woman's house. But you nice with me after. Yes?"
We say:
"Yes."
The orderly laughs. His friends arrive. We leave. We hear them singing all night.
The Priest's Housekeeper
One morning, towards the end of winter, we are sitting in the kitchen with Grandmother. There is a knock on the door; a young woman comes in. She says:
"Good morning. I've come for some potatoes for . . ."
She stops speaking and looks at us:
"Why, they're adorable!"
She takes a stool and sits down:
"Come here, you."
We don't move.
"Or you."
We don't move. She laughs:
"Come on, come here. Are you afraid of me?"
We say:
"We're afraid of nobody." We go over to her; she says:
"Heavens! How beautiful you are! But how dirty you are!"
Grandmother asks:
"What do you want?"
"Potatoes for the priest. Why are you so dirty? Don't you ever wash?"
Grandmother says angrily:
"It's none of your business. Why didn't the old woman come?"
The young woman laughs again:
"The old woman? She was younger than you. But she died yesterday. She was my aunt. I'm replacing her at the priest's house."
Grandmother says:
"She was five years older than me. She died, just like that . . . How many potatoes do you want?"
"Ten kilos, or more, if you have them. And some apples. And also . . . what else have you got? The priest is as thin as a rake, and there's nothing in his larder."
Grandmother says:
"You should have thought of that in the autumn."
"I wasn't there in the autumn. I've only been there since yesterday evening."
Grandmother says:
"I'm warning you, at this time of year, food of any sort costs plenty."
The young woman laughs again:
"Name your price. We don't have any choice. There's almost nothing left in the shops."
"Soon there'll be nothing left anywhere."
Grandmother sniggers and goes out. We are left alone with the priest's housekeeper. She asks us:
"Why don't you ever wash?"
"There's no bathroom, no soap. It isn't possible to wash."
"And your clothes! What a mess! Don't you have any other clothes!"
"We have some in the suitcases under the seat, but they're all dirty and torn. Grandmother never washes them."
"The Witch is your grandmother? Wonders never cease!"
Grandmother comes back with two sacks:
"That'll be ten silver coins or one gold coin. I don't take bills. They'll soon be worth nothing at all, they're just paper."
The housekeeper asks:
"What's in the sacks?"
Grandmother answers:
"Food. Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it. I'll bring you the money tomorrow. Can the boys help me carry the sacks?"
"They can if they want to. They don't always want to. They don't obey anybody."
The housekeeper asks us:
"You will do that for me, won't you? You'll each carry a sack, and I'll carry your suitcases."
Grandmother asks:
"What's all this about suitcases?"
"I'm going to wash their dirty clothes. I'll bring them back tomorrow with the money."
Grandmother sniggers:
"Wash their clothes? Well, if you've got nothing better to do . . ."
We go off with the housekeeper. We follow her to the priest's house. We see her two blond braids dancing over her black shawl, two long, thick braids. They reach down to her waist. Her hips dance under her red skirt. We can just see a bit of her legs between the skirt and her boots. Her stockings are black, and the one on the right has a run.
The Bath
We arrive at the priest's house with the housekeeper. She lets us in by the back door. We put the sacks down in the larder and go to the washhouse. There are lots of ropes stretched across the room to hold the washing. There are receptacles of every kind, including a zinc bathtub of odd shape, like a deep armchair.
The housekeeper opens our suitcases, puts our clothes in cold water to soak, then starts a fire to heat water in two big cauldrons. She says:
"I'll wash what you need for now right away. While you're bathing, it will dry. I'll bring you the other clothes tomorrow or the day after. They also need mending."
She pours hot water into the bathtub; she adds cold water to it:
"Well, who's first?"
We don't move. She says:
"Who's it going to be, you or you? Come on, get undressed!"
We ask:
"Are you going to stay here while we bathe?"
She laughs very loudly:
"What! Of course I'm going to stay here! I'll even rub your backs and wash your hair. You're not going to be embarrassed in front of me, are you? I'm almost old enough to be your mother."
We still don't move. So she starts to undress:
"Oh, well. Then I'll go first. You see, I'm not embarrassed to undress in front of you. You're only little boys."
She hums to herself, but her face goes red when she realizes we're staring at her. She has taut, pointed breasts like overinflated balloons. Her skin is very white, and she has a lot of blond hair everywhere. Not only between her legs and under her arms, but also on her belly and thighs. She goes on singing in the water, rubbing herself with a washcloth. When she gets out of the bath, she quickly slips into a robe. She changes the water in the tub and starts to do the washing with her back turned to us. Then we get undressed and get into the tub together. There's plenty of room for both of us.
After a while, the housekeeper hands us two large white towels:
"I hope you scrubbed yourselves well all over."
We sit down on a bench, wrapped up in our towels, waiting for our clothes to dry. The washhouse is full of steam and very warm. The housekeeper comes over with a pair of scissors:
"Now I'm going to cut your nails. And stop making a fuss; I won't eat you."
She cuts our fingernails and our toenails. She also cuts our hair. She kisses us on the face and on the neck; and she never stops talking:
"Oh! What pretty little feet, how sweet they are, all clean now! Oh! What adorable ears, what a soft, soft neck! Oh! How I'd love to have two pretty, handsome little boys like you all to myself! I'd tickle them all over, all over, all over."
She strokes and kisses our whole bodies. She tickles us with her tongue on our necks, under our arms, between our buttocks. She kneels down in front of the bench and sucks our penises, which swell and harden in her mouth.
She is now sitting between us; she presses us to her:
"If I had two beautiful little babies like you, I'd give them lovely sweet milk to drink, here, like this."
She draws our heads to her breasts, which are sticking out of her robe, and we suck the pink ends, which have become very hard. She puts her hands under her robe and rubs herself between the legs:
"What a pity you aren't older! Oh! How nice it is, how nice it is to play with you!"
She sighs, pants, then stiffens suddenly.
As we are leaving, she says to us:
"You'll come back every Saturday to bathe. You'll bring your dirty clothes with you. I want you to be always clean."
We say:
"We'll bring you wood in exchange for your work. And fish and mushrooms when there are any."
The Priest
The following Saturday, we go back to have our bath. Afterward, the housekeeper says to us:
"Come to the kitchen. I'll make some tea and we'll have some bread and butter."
We are eating the bread and butter when the priest comes into the kitchen.
We say:
"Good morning, sir."
The housekeeper says:
"Father, these are my protégés. They're the grandsons of the old woman people call the Witch."
The priest says:
"Yes, I know them. Come with me."
We follow him. We go through a room in which there is nothing but a big round table surrounded by chairs, and a crucifix on the wall. Then we go into a dark room whose walls are lined with books from floor to ceiling. Opposite the door, a prie-dieu with a crucifix; near the window, a desk; a narrow bed in a corner, three chairs in a row against the wall: that's all the furniture in the room.
The priest says:
"You've changed a lot. You're clean. You look like two angels. Sit down."
He pulls two chairs up opposite his desk; we sit down. He sits down behind his desk. He hands us an envelope:
"Here's the money."
As we take the envelope, we say:
"Soon you'll be able to stop giving these. In the summer, Harelip manages by herself."
The priest says:
"No. I shall go on helping these two women. I'm ashamed that I did not do so earlier. And now, let's talk about something else, shall we?"
He looks at us; we say nothing. He says:
"I never see you in church."
"We don't go there."