Authors: Attila Bartis
“Fourteen fifty,” she said, and the man began to fumble in his pockets and at the same time threaten to report this incident to the Public Health Authority and have this filthy joint shut down. “Don't forget to wash your hands if you go there,” said Jolika and pocketed the nine fifty, because she knew the man was fumbling in vain for more.
Jolika should have let him be, I thought, even though she was absolutely right. Nine fifty is exactly the price of a glass of beer, and if that's all you have you shouldn't order a mug. Then I was bothered by my first reaction to let the man off the hook. I finished my drink to the last drop, put out my cigarette and took the number six streetcar to Oktogon Square, and from there I walked on Andrássy Road toward the Opera. When I saw that the lights were on, I almost turned around. I should have called ahead, I thought, and then I thought that maybe tomorrow, but I felt as if someone were watching me, how I'm hesitating and how ridiculous I look, and I walked up the stairs and after a short wait rang the bell briefly, twice.
“I thought you decided to buy a new pen,” she said, while locking the door. “You couldn't have come at a better time. You speak French, don't you?”
“No, I don't,” I said.
“English?”
“Barely,” I said.
“That you must learn,” she said and introduced me to her guests. “They're from a publisher in Paris and I am offering them some of our books. Your name has come up too,” she added, and I sat down on the moquette-covered sofa because the two Frenchmen were sitting in the easy chairs. While she was in the kitchen, the three of us were silent because we didn't have anything to say to one another, but luckily she returned within seconds, with a pitcher of iced tea.
“He is the only Hungarian writer who drinks only iced tea. But of course that's not the reason why he should be published,” she said in English so I could understand it too, and I felt like a caged animal to whom anyone can throw crackers. The two men smiled, then they went back to speaking French, and I would have liked to ask for my fountain pen but felt it was impossible just then. Then the guests stood up, but it was obvious I couldn't leave together with them, so we shook hands and said our au revoirs, and I heard that she locked the door again.
“They liked you very much. This may lead to something good,” she said and sat next to me on the sofa.
“Maybe it's premature,” I said.
“Leave it to me,” she said. “May I pour some wine for you now?”
“No, thanks. I've only come for my pen.”
“You'd never have come up for just that, not in your life,” she said and poured red wine into my tea while I thought this would be the time to throw a matchboxful of dead flies into the cup and then the whole thing into her face; and along with the wine I felt the insects sliding down my gullet.
“You're probably right,” I said and got up; she, however, remained seated so that only the fabric of my pants separated her face from my swelling phallus. In my stomach, green bottle flies began to swarm. My chest was filled with them as well as my brain; I felt they were gnawing at me, devouring everything inside, and in place of my heart only a mangled stump was dangling on the aorta.
“Don't you dare stick your nose into my life, not in Hungarian and not in French,” I said and didn't recognize my own voice.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Are you going to fuck me at last or what?” she asked and grabbed my balls, and in the very next second I yanked her sweater off her, threw her on the bed and while with one hand I tore off her skirt, she tore apart the zip on my fly. She didn't even unbuckle my belt, the metal scraped her stomach bloody. Her skin was bitter. Bitter and smelled of almonds, like my mother's sheets. When I shoved two fingers up her ass, as if two people were fucking her, she was writhing with pain.
“Don't you dare stick your nose in my life, you understand?! Never! Never again, you slut!” I shouted into her face, clutching her throat with one hand.
“More! Screw me to pieces! Fuck me to death!” she roared. “My clit! Tear off my clit!” she screamed, and she sounded like ice splitting on the surface of a frozen lake, and all I could feel was an enormous nothingness coursing through me, almost bursting my veins.
.   .   .
I left her on the bed like some washrag. My sperm dribbled out of her and on the wrinkled moquette, one of her legs dangled from the bed, the shoe had fallen off her foot. Her hip was still convulsing, but she stopped whimpering; I fixed my zipper, took a cigarette from the box and turned
off the light. Then the taxi came and I had a chat with the cabbie about the regime change. He was dissatisfied with the communists, collectively and individually, because they refused to blow their own brains out; he thought this was the least they could have done, but I didn't agree with him, because everybody has the right to admit his mistakes, close the door, and never show his face again. Let them live in peace with their shame, I told the cabbie, but he said not to hope for that because scoundrels don't feel ashamed about anything, not even for a second, that's how the Almighty contrived it. Then I fiddled with the security chains but couldn't undo them, so finally I rang the bell briefly, twice, which would make Mother open the door since that was my signal.
.   .   .
I dawdled over an unfinished text until the following afternoon. When it seemed finished, I went over to Eszter's place, the way I usually would, since what had happened hadn't happened to me.
“Will you give me a bath?” I asked.
“Don't hold your breath,” she said.
“But I am,” I said and she filled the tub with water, put in a green cube that turned everything into foam, and the bathroom smelled like pines.
“Not fair, I can't see any part of you,” she said because the foam covered me. I stuck my head under the water and began counting. I reached one hundred and twenty and still she wouldn't attempt to pull me up.
“I could drown here for all you care,” I said when I couldn't hold my breath any longer.
“I'm not worried about you. You can survive even at the bottom of the sea, like a pearl oyster,” she said.
“Thanks for not saying a leech,” I said, and then she dried me off, and
when I pulled the plug, the foam spread through the grating of the drain and flooded half the bathroom. We tried by hand to gather it and throw it back into the tub, and then I took a half a bottle of red wine from the fridge and read her the story I had completed that afternoon.
“It's good. But you shouldn't confuse sincerity with obscenity,” she said.
.   .   .
I didn't hesitate before the entrance, didn't check if anyone was watching, and did not ring the bell briefly, twice, as she instructed me in our first telephone conversation. One long ring should suffice, as it does everywhere else, I thought, so that I had to wait for a long time.
“Two short rings,” she said while closing the door.
“This way it's better,” I said.
“Next time lock me in,” she said, using the familiar form of address, and pressed a key into my hand, which I put down on the gas meter.
“I'd rather we use the formal address,” I said.
“As you wish. Tea? I mean, lukewarm tea?”
“Not even lukewarm tea. I've only come for my manuscript.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” she said and sank into a worn leather armchair.
“That's all right,” I said. “If it's in the office, please mail it to me.”
“It's at the printer's. Proofs in a week.”
“I won't do the proofs.”
“I'm sorry, but you won't get it back. Incidentally, my work doesn't determine who I sleep with. I had hoped that was clear to you.”
“It was, yes. But my work does,” I said.
“Naturally. Only in the long run it's not very pleasant to shit in your pants when looking into the mirror you see a mad dog instead of your two beautiful eyes.”
I was trying to light a cigarette, and she watched with great satisfaction how I was breaking one matchstick after another.
“Your girlfriend, by the way, is very nice,” she said.
“Not my girlfriend,” I said.
“Pardon me, your love. I did not intend to degrade your relationship. All I meant to say was that poor girl would be shattered if she found out that away from home you are a first-class beast.”
“Don't even try that tack, because I'll strangle you. Leave Eszter out of this,” I said and stood up.
“You've misunderstood me,” she said and poured. “It's not me but you who have to leave her out of this. Women in general put up with sharing their men so long as they can pretend not to know about it.”
“She does not share me,” I said and took the glass proffered me, and by the time the brandy burnt my throat I didn't have a trace of hatred in me. I looked her over as if she were a too-well-restored statue, out of which one can hear the ticking of the woodworm. Neither the auburn hair and almond-smelling skin nor the red claws at the end of the five-thousand-year-old fingers irritated me anymore. I felt I'd be walking out of this luxury whorehouse cleaner than I had been at birth.
“Every woman shares,” she said and looked into my eyes. “Your mother, for example, shared your father with me.”
.   .   .
The blow got her on the chin. She fell into the armchair but, grabbing her by the hair, I wrestled her to the floor and with a single shove turned her on to her stomach.
“Just like your father,” she fumed.
“Don't you dare talk about my father! I don't want to hear his name, do
you understand?!” I screamed and pried open her legs with my knee and among the ripped shreds of her clothes I reached up into her snatch.
“More!” she panted.
“Never, you bitch! And not my mother's name either!”
“Tear me apart! Do it, tear me apart!” she screamed and somehow managed to break free. Her nails slashed my thigh, yanked open my zipper and clutched my hate-filled testicles. I felt I was about to spit all the filth of my gonad into her throat, but I tore myself out of her mouth because never in this life would I want to come into this heaving piece of meat.
“Ram it in me!”
“Never!”
“Fuck me! Fuck me properly!”
“Nobody, never! Nobody shares me with you!” I said breathlessly and held down her waist so I can stab my five fingers up to her stomach. As if knocking apart a stone wall, I was tugging and pulling her cursed butt for as long as she was able to whimper. One, two, three, I kept drawing lines across the cortex of my brain, and then she pressed the carpet between her legs, and I took a cigarette out of the box and slammed the door behind me.
.   .   .
My mother was peeling her morning apple in the kitchen. The red apple skin spiraled downward like a flatworm.
Who is this Ãva Jordán? I asked, and the knife froze in her hand. She stared at my disheveled shirt and slashed pants, and I thought she wasn't going to answer.
You bastard! Into your room, you animal! she screamed and the half-peeled apple exploded like dynamite on the doorpost.
All right, I said and went to my room. I should have washed my teeth
at least, I thought as I lay down on my bed. My mouth tasted like raw fish, my wrist hurt, and from the dried-off vagina goo both my hands looked as if I had some skin disease; but in a moment I fell asleep.
When I awoke, everything was as dark as a curse. I groped for the light switch and looked at the clock because I remembered that Eszter was going to wait for me at six in front of the library. I'd tell her I had a temperature, I thought, and began to rummage in one of the drawers; among the pencils I did find a piece of old chalk but I managed to eat only half of it. Then I found a box of blood cartridges and thought that saying I had been mugged might be a better idea. Yes, they called me a dirty Jew and beat me; and I chewed open all the capsules and smeared the dye around my mouth, but then realized that it made no sense at all. If she waited for me at six, and now it's ten, and I got beaten up now, then where was I at six; so I just ate what was left of the chalk, including its paper label, even though I was retching, bringing up rubbery chalk turning red, and water was oozing from every pore of my body.
.   .   .
This was my best pair of pants, I thought, well, nothing to be done about it, tomorrow I'll put on a thicker pair, I thought, actually it would be good to know something about my father, I thought, at least what he looked like, I thought, tomorrow I'll ask that slut, I thought, that can't lead to anything, I thought, but first I'll clip her claws, I thought, or maybe not, her nails are all right, I thought, rather the hair should be scraped off her twat, I thought, and maybe I'd need a dildo, I thought, or a blackjack, I thought, there is nothing better than a dried pizzle, I thought, because you won't touch mine, I thought, you can rely on that more than on the Lord's Prayer, I thought, there are plenty of other writers, they'll screw
you properly all right, I thought, the two of us will do it only like this, I thought, and don't you dare talk about my father any more because I'll tear off your clit, I thought, I'll use it to turn you on and off like a TV set, I thought, what's more, it's not such a bad thing to beat a woman, I thought, our father wasn't such a big fool, I thought, though it wasn't very kind to vomit into a child's bed, I thought, that's not a very nice thing for a father to do, I thought, and to beat the shit out of an expectant mother, I thought, don't think I don't remember, I thought, I remember everything, you prick, I thought, I saw you fucking my mother in the ass, I thought, at six months one is no longer stupid, I thought, only can't handle the kitchen knife yet, I thought, but don't think that I don't know you, I thought, like my own palm, I thought, you frustrated prick, I thought, probably from one of the lower classes, I thought, worn down by misalliance, I thought, though the little mother was also a whore, I thought, probably fucked as many as five at a time, I thought, that's not a shame, I'd do it too, I thought, or at least with three, I thought, this bitch could really visit my mother now and then, I thought, and Eszter, too, I thought, if it's all right separately why not together, too, I thought, but maybe not Eszter, I thought, after all I am not an animal, I thought, Eszter is positively sensitive, I thought, not like us, I thought, then maybe Judit, I thought, she keeps her heart in a case, anyway, I thought, true, she practices on it twelve hours a day, I thought, plus the appearances, I thought, someone like her has no time to screw in a trio, I thought, ten years or so ago she didn't even have time to write a letter, I thought, of course you had the nerve to write that I shouldn't close our mother's eyes, I thought, well, don't hold your breath, I thought, I'll close them with a hammer, I thought, and then I'll throw every bit of scenery out of this crypt, I thought, I'll throw it all out and over there we'll have
the nursery, I thought, and I won't puke in your baby's bed, I thought, and I won't fuck you in the ass while you nurse the baby, I thought, I am not an animal, I thought, truth be known, I didn't really fuck that mummy, I thought, only grabbed her cunt, I thought, and I didn't fuck Mother, either, I thought, though it was a pity not to, I thought, next time our cock won't be so hesitant, I thought, at least one of us could have come, I thought, me, for example, I thought, no, not me, definitely not me, but she could have, I thought, maybe I'm just frustrated because I couldn't satisfy my mother, I thought, that's pretty shitty though, I thought, and she so cleverly kept stroking my cock, I thought, and she at least shaved her cunt, I thought, really, dumb as she is, she probably shaves it even today, I thought, I should take a look, I thought, but she shouldn't salt her dugs, I thought, and she should drop dead already, I thought, her dresses would be perfect for Eszter, I thought, this is not obscenity, my dear, I thought, I have never confused obscenity with sincerity, I thought, you are the one who mixes up the leech with the pearl oyster, I thought, yes, those dresses are really fine, I thought, maybe they'd have to be taken in a bit around the boobs, I thought, and you'd have at least a few moth-eaten fur coats, I thought, you could wear one of them when going for your abortion, I thought, by the way, you could have told me that, pardon me, dear, today I'm going to have an abortion, I thought, after all it was my spunk they scraped out of your crack, I thought, and it would be nice if you introduced me to your papa at last, I thought, just for the sake of good manners, I thought, he and I would puff on our cigars and you'd hold your jaw, I thought, and your old man would tell me why his little girl is mute, I thought, but you won't play this game anymore, I thought, not with me, I thought, there won't be any don't pry anymore, because you'd be bouncing off the walls, I thought, don't think I'm afraid to hit you, I thought, I'll beat out of you all your
disadvantaged former life, I thought, and I'll be writing with your blood, I thought, and then you can type it all up, I thought, and you can also look for a publisher, I thought, you wanted a writer, I thought, yes, you sent me there, I thought, you sent me to that slut, I thought, and now you're up shit creek, I thought, but I'm not having any more chalk for breakfast, I thought, just don't let Judit notice it, I thought, it was her chalk, I thought, tomorrow I'll steal another one for her, I thought, stay out of my drawer, she said, I will steal one for you and write your Hungarian homework for you too, I said, I don't care what you write, she said, forgive me, I said, you've always been a worm, she said, that's not true, I said, a lousy little nobody, she said, I am not a nobody, I said, where did you put my violin, she asked, I didn't touch it, I said, give it back right now, she said, I won't, I said, my train leaves soon, she said, I'm not staying here alone, I said, then learn to play the violin, she said, you're not going anywhere, I said, I don't have time for this, she said, in the hamper, I said, you miserable little, she said, you are unable to love, I said, well, in that we are alike, she said, yes, I should have hidden it, I thought, put it in the dirty laundry, I thought, she'd never find it there, I thought, that's where I'd look first, she said, among your semen-stained kerchiefs, she said, none of your business, I said, that's true, everyone finds happiness wherever they can, she said, at least my lover doesn't cheat on me with my own mother, I said, you do better the other way around, she said, shuttup! I said, from behind, like our father used to, she said, shut your mouth! I said, except he could always get a hard-on, she said, shut it or I'll kill you! I said, you're so brave you'll kill everybody, she said, get the fuck out of here! I said, don't be afraid, I only want to close your eyes for you, she said, let go of me, you snake! don't, not my eyes, never my eyes!