War & War (32 page)

5.

A king among stone carvers: the idea shocked everyone in Babylon, for it meant that whatever laws had governed them so far were now invalid and that there was no longer any foundation on which order might be built, and, this being so, from now on it would be the unpredictable, the sensational and the senseless that ruled their lives, and yet he walked among the stone carvers as any man might do, treading the length of the Marduk road, through the Ishtar Gate, over to the hill opposite, acting against all the ruling conventions and thereby advertising the fact that power was no longer with the empire, for leaving the palace without the appropriate retinue and the presence of the court, with just four guards as escort and, of course, the fearsome moon-faced chief adviser at his side was more than Babylon could bear, and when the chief adviser cried, The King, and the armed escort carelessly echoed the words, the stone carvers on the hillside thought someone was playing a joke on them and did not even rise to their feet and stop working at first, but when they saw it
really
was the king they threw themselves on the ground facedown until the adviser, communicating the king’s wishes, ordered them to rise and to continue what they were doing, for such were the king’s commands, he said, the king’s expression stern and frightening, but somehow disturbing too, the eyes faintly idiotic, the eyes of a man bearing the authority of Nimrod’s robes and scepter,
but among workmen
, and that’s how the priests of Marduk knew that the last judgment must be near though sacrifices continued undisturbed on the altars, but there was the king, engaged in direct conversation with the stone carvers on the hillside, and news of this apocalyptic event quickly spread and terrified even those who had given themselves over to fierce pleasures and the evils of forgetfulness behind the thick but now useless walls of the city; and the four of them threw themselves on the ground once more but none of them dared answer such questions as they did not understand, for their hearts were in their mouths, loudly drumming in fear that the mighty Nimrod was standing before them in an act of madness, that the king himself was asking them whether the stone was hard enough, and they went on nodding, saying, yes, yes, hard enough, but the king gave no sign of having heard their answer and stepped away to join the guards who were openly grinning, then stood on a ledge that offered a perfect view with a deep chasm at his feet, the vast tower of Etemenanki rearing up before him on the far side, and stood immobile, a dry scalding breeze above the river blowing directly into his face; so Nimrod watched the builders at work, laboring at the enormous monument, that impossible structure rising before him, almost ready now, a perfect silence at his back, the hammers and chisels frozen in the workmen’s hands as he surveyed his creation, Nimrod’s challenge to the world, a triumph, a work of genius, an edifice of godless majesty designed to confront time itself—that, at least, was how Nimrod imagined it, said Korin to his new friend, for what else could it be, as they sat down for a drink at the Mocca restaurant, what else could it be if we are to believe Breughel rather than Koldeway, and he did believe Breughel in preference to Koldeway, for that was what he had assumed from the beginning, that Breughel’s painting was correct, since after all one had to, in fact absolutely had to assume something, for there had to be a reason for him being in New York, and there had to be some mysterious guiding hand to lead him here so that he might accomplish his own humble task and receive a clear explanation of all these references to Babel, and why should all this be as it was, smiled Korin, his head swaying, if not to enable us to comprehend that this is what God’s absence leads to, to the production of a miraculous, brilliant and utterly captivating kind of human being who is incapable, and always will be incapable, of just one thing, that is of controlling that which he has created, his own feeling being, he declared, that it was true, that there really was nothing more miraculous than man, for think, to take a random example, of computers, of satellites, of microchips, motor cars, medicines, televisions, of unmanned stealth bombers, a list so long we could continue it forever, and this was probably the reason and explanation for his own presence in New York, so that he should be able to sort the essential from the banal, in other words to understand that
that which is too big for us is altogether too big
, and having understood this to convey this understanding to others, because, and he couldn’t emphasize this strongly enough, he, Korin, had to point out the true state of affairs, and he did not merely imagine but felt most clearly that something had taken him by the hand and was leading him.

6.

Oh yes, they knew Gyuri Szabó, the proprietor of the Mocca remarked as she was chatting with her friend on the phone that night, having got home, showered, turned on the TV and pulled the phone over, and he had taken the opportunity of bringing over some lunatic, giving him a table to sit at, yes, they let Gyuri in, he is no problem, he just sits himself down at the table and shifts about in his chair a bit, he’s been there a week now among the customers, a quiet well-behaved decent enough kind of guy, with, yes, some strange ideas, but he was welcome to sit there, the problem was the other one, the one with a face like a bat, they never had this screwball before, the woman exclaimed, and he did all the talking, producing such a torrent of nonsense, she cried, well, you have no idea, and they drank Unicum with beer, the Hungarian way, eleven shots each, from four in the afternoon to two in the morning, so you may imagine, she said, the bat-faced one talking and talking and Gyuri Szabó listening, though he was drunk too just like the other guy, nor was there any point in telling him to behave himself when he came out of the john, they just went on as before though she should have closed up hours ago, the cash long having been dealt with, and still they didn’t want to go, so in the end she had to say something, to turn off the light, which was something she hated doing as it reminded her of being back in Hungary where they do this lights-off-all-out business all the time, but there was nothing else she could do, she had to turn the lights off a couple of times until, thank heaven, they finally noticed, got to their feet and went out, though it was Gyuri Szabó she was sorry for, him being the son of old Béla Szabó from his second marriage, she told her friend, the one who was in charge of a department at Lloyds, yes, old man Béla’s boy, yes and we always thought he was the artistic type, in other words a real decent guy, all heart, but the other man she knew absolutely nothing about, and to be honest, she was genuinely frightened of him, because you never knew what that kind of person was thinking or what he’d do next, though, truth to tell, he can’t have been thinking much in particular and in any case, he paid, thank God, and, true, he upset a couple of chairs on his way out, but at least he was leaving and hadn’t done anything to upset anyone, but as he left he complained of feeling sick saying he had to throw up, and the other guy said, go ahead, throw up, so Korin went a little way down into the doorway by the entrance and vomited and vomited until he felt better, then feeling fine, he went straight over to the cart to help push it even though his friend told him not to bother as he was used to doing it himself and he’d do it by himself this time too, but Korin paid no attention to him since that was what the man had told him the first time that afternoon when he had stopped a block away, down 81st Street, and Korin had asked whether he could help, at which point his accent gave him away, and they both immediately realized that the other was Hungarian, this being pretty simple with Korin’s can I
help you
, and not much more difficult with the other’s
no thanks
, Korin having spent several hours summoning up the courage to talk to someone without succeeding in finding either the courage or indeed anybody who looked Hungarian until suddenly he noticed a strange figure and was astonished to see that this figure was in the process of leaning a full-size store dummy against a bus stop on 81 st Street, arranging it so it looked as though the dummy were waiting for a bus, having done which he chained the dummy’s hands and feet to the bus stop and turned its head to face the oncoming traffic, raising its left arm a little so it would seem that the dummy was hailing a bus, after which he returned to his cart, ready to pull it further up the street, which was the point at which Korin first approached him and asked him if he needed a push for if he did he would be glad to help.

7.

He was used to doing this alone and would like to continue alone, the man told him, but having said it allowed Korin to help even though it was clear he had no need of it, for the plastic hands and feet protruding from under the loose tarpaulin cover of the cart showed that the whole thing was full of store dummies and would therefore weigh very little; but Korin did not let that discourage him and began pushing the back of the cart while the man got hold of the pole at the front and pulled it, the whole lot rattling and giving a considerable jolt each time there was a bump in the icy snow beneath, so that dummies began to slide off right and left and Korin or the man had to thrust them back among the rest; and so they pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled and within a few minutes had gotten pretty well used to it, arriving in the busy traffic of Second Avenue where Korin finally dared to ask whether the other, by any chance, could tell him where the Hungarian quarter was because he was looking for it, to which he received the answer that they were in the Hungarian quarter right now; in which case, Korin continued, perhaps the other might help him with some business, the business, Korin cleared his throat, that is, of buying a gun; an inquiry greeted by the other with a solemn echo—ah, gun—his face suddenly serious, telling him a gun could be bought almost anywhere, and this seemed for a while to conclude the conversation, neither of them saying a word until the man applied the brakes, dropped the pole on the stones, turned round and asked Korin directly to tell him what it was he was actually after, in response to which Korin repeated, a gun, a gun of any kind, no matter if it be big, small or of middling size, just a gun, and that he had five hundred dollars to spend on it, that sum comprising all his money, and that he was prepared to spend it all on a gun, just a gun; not that he wanted to frighten the other man with all this, he hastily added, for he meant absolutely no harm and would be quite happy to tell the whole story but wasn’t there somewhere they could sit down and eat and drink something while he told it, he asked, and looked around for some such place because he had, after all, been out on the street since dawn and was chilled through to the bone, so a little warmth would be most welcome, and some food and drink too, and yes he’d love to drink something; but the other man would not let the matter rest and examined him further and at some length on the subject of the gun, Korin responding with further invitations to go and eat, pressing the man to be his guest and telling him that all would be revealed once they were sitting down together, so the man hemmed and hawed and said there were plenty of restaurants nearby and within a few minutes they were sitting in the Mocca, its walls lined with mirrors and decorative crockery, its ceiling papered in relief using some synthetic material, with just three melancholy looking guests at the tables and the crow-faced proprietress wearing oval glasses, her hair cut froufrou fashion, who suggested they eat something as well as drink, and though she did this in the most friendly manner only Korin took her advice and drank a goulash soup with pinched noodles, the other man refusing anything, merely taking one of the sugar packets provided on the table, tearing the end off and pouring it down his throat, flicking at the packet with his index finger to get all the sugar out, repeating this a few times in the course of their conversation; all he wanted, he said, being something to drink, which indeed they both did, downing one Unicum with beer, followed by another Unicum with beer, and another and so on while Korin talked and the man listened.

8.

The dummy sat by itself at a table near the counter and looked so convincing one might have thought it was a real person sitting there though it was of the same plastic material as the other dummies in the cart and as life-sized as those outside, and yet, in the light of the diner, its pink skin seemed more transparent and its gaze more meditative than theirs as it sat with its legs tucked under the table with perfect propriety, a propriety it was forced to exercise in order that it should be able to sit at all, with one hand in its lap and the other on the table, its head turned away a fraction, tipping slightly, so as to make it seem the face was gazing into the distance somewhat lost in thought—and as soon as the man saw it he immediately went to sit beside it, so that by the time Korin had removed his coat he too had to sit with the dummy and clearly found it difficult not to query its presence at first, though once he got used to it being there he accepted it and no longer felt any need to ask any questions, just glanced at it every so often, and after the fifth or sixth round of drinks, once the Unicum had well and truly gone to his head, he accepted the dummy to the extent that he even started including it in his conversation, a conversation that consisted primarily of his monologue of course, whose intention was to enlighten the other by telling him about the headaches, about his own revelation concerning Babel and to continue with his account of the time in the records office, the weeks at Sárváry’s, the journey to America passing on to the manuscript, eternity, the gun, then, eventually, Kasser, Bengazza, Falke and Toót, and the way out, how they couldn’t find it and how he carried them about inside him but felt extremely worried now even though earlier he thought he’d be perfectly calm, because they somehow stayed with him, were clinging to him, and he felt he couldn’t get rid of them just like that, but what could he do, where and how could he solve the problem, he sighed, then went to the toilet on returning from which he was confronted in the corridor by the proprietress with the froufrou hairdo who begged his pardon but asked him, a little awkwardly, not to ply his companion with drink, because they knew him very well in the restaurant, and he was neither used to it, nor able to cope with it, to which Korin answered that neither could he himself, though the woman, rather impatiently, cut him short, saying it would do his companion no good at all, and adjusted her froufrou hair as she did so, because he was a very sensitive, good-hearted boy and he has this obsession with store dummies, populating the whole district with them, and it wasn’t just in her restaurant he planted one but wherever they would let him, and they let him because he is such a quiet, gentle, decent sort of man, and he had left three dummies in Grand Central Station, as well as others in the public library, one at McDonald’s, another at the cinema at 11 th Street, and one at a nearby newsstand in front of the magazine shelves, but people said he had more at home, one sitting in the armchair in his room watching the TV, one at the kitchen table and one at the window supposedly looking out, in other words, said the proprietress, she couldn’t deny that he was somewhat cranky but he was not mad, and he was only doing all this on account of some woman because, they say, he very much loved her, and she was simply asking Korin to understand, and more than understand, to look after him if he could, because you couldn’t fill him with drink, it was just asking for trouble, to which Korin readily agreed, saying yes, he understood now, and that he would certainly look after him most carefully as he too thought he was a really nice man, confessing that as soon as he set eyes on him he really liked him, so, yes, he would look after him, he promised, but then immediately broke his word for as soon as he sat back down with the man at the restaurant he immediately ordered another round, nor could he be dissuaded from more on top of that, so he was truly asking for trouble, and this eventually did lead to trouble, though not in the form the proprietress had anticipated, for it was Korin who felt ill, extremely ill in fact once they had finished and while vomiting helped, it only relieved him for a few minutes, then he was ill again, and worse, no longer pushing the cart but clinging onto it, constantly telling the other man, whom he now referred to as his friend, that death meant nothing to him, while clinging on, almost allowing himself to be drawn, his feet repeatedly slipping on the snow, which by this time, that is to say about four or half past four, had frozen solid.