War & War (33 page)

9.

They were going somewhere in the snow and it didn’t matter to Korin where it was, nor did it seem to matter much to the other man, who occasionally adjusted the tarpaulin covering the dummies, then bent forward and blindly dragged the cart behind him in the sharp wind blowing down the avenues oriented north to south so that every time they passed one of these, which they did frequently, they tried to escape from it as soon as they could, fleeing from it, saying nothing at all for a long time, until the man suddenly said something over his shoulder, something he must have been thinking for a while, but Korin didn’t hear him so the man had to drop the pole, go over to Korin so he could get his message through to him, which was that it was all very nice what he had told him about the manuscript in the Mocca restaurant, very nice indeed, he nodded, but of course he had invented the lot, admit it, for beautiful as the Cretan, the Venetian and Roman episodes were, he should calmly own up to the fact that they existed only in his imagination, to which Korin naturally responded with a firm no, that no, he had not made it up, the manuscript existed and what was more was there on his bed on 159 th Street if he wanted to see it, he said, quickly grabbing the back of the cart because he had let go of it for a moment, and yes, said the other man very slowly, because if it was true—he raised his head—it must be beautiful and it would really be very nice to see it, and surely there was something one could do about that road, that way out, and you know what? he asked, we should meet tomorrow night about six o’clock at my place, and Korin should bring that manuscript with him, that’s if it existed, for if it did exist it would be very beautiful and he would like to show a page or two to the woman he loved, he said gazing at the dummies under the tarpaulin, then produced a business card from his pocket, pointed to the address on it, saying, here, and gave it to Korin who put it away, and the place would be easy enough to find, so let us say six o’clock, he added before falling flat on his face and remaining motionless on the snow while Korin stared at him for a moment before letting go of the cart and taking a step toward the man to help him, but he lost his balance in trying to do so and fell beside him where he lay until the man, who might have been brought to his senses, or if not precisely to his senses at least to consciousness by the cold before Korin was, extended his arms, pulled Korin to his feet, and they stood there, with feet planted apart, facing each other, both of them swaying for a whole minute or more, until the man suddenly said that Korin was a likable guy but somehow lacked a center, and with that he took up his place at the front of the cart, raised the pole and set off along the snow once more, only this time Korin did not follow him, for he hadn’t the strength to do so, not even by clinging onto the cart, but gazed at the man with his dummies getting ever further and further away, reeled over to the nearest doorway, pushed at the outer door and lay down by the wall at the foot of the stairs.

10.

Four hundred and forty dollars, that was what most upset him when he found the money on him, for where does a dirty little nobody like this get four hundred and forty dollars from, while he, said the man in the yellow overalls pointing to himself, he clears the crap from the house, fixes the drains, takes out the garbage and sweeps the filthy ice in front of the house for a hundred and eighty a week working his guts out to earn a pittance, and this creature has four hundred and forty dollars right there in his coat pocket, just like that, as he guessed when he saw him at the bottom of the wet stairs, thinking there’s another filthy stinking bum lying in his own vomit, just as he suspected when he saw him at the bottom of the stairs, the sight of him making his blood boil, so he would happily have put a bullet in him, but contended himself instead with giving him a kick and was just starting to drag him outside when he found the four hundred and forty dollars in his pocket, counted the bills into his own wallet, and gave him such a kick his foot was still aching because he must have struck a bone his foot was hurting so badly; four hundred and forty, imagine it, his voice trembled with fury, well, he was so angry he booted him right out of that door and off the sidewalk too onto the street like the piece of shit he was, he was that disgusting, and boy was he disgusted, said the man in the yellow overalls grabbing the arm of the person living upstairs, and he was quite right to treat him the way he did, he thought, that’s the way to deal with them, let them freeze their asses off outside, he said, his face reddening, let him lie out there till a car runs over him, and he just lay there, unable even to open his eyes he was in so much pain, but eventually managed to do so, heard the terrible car horns, saw where he was and started dragging himself toward the sidewalk without quite realizing the gravity of his situation or understanding why his stomach, chest and face hurt so much, then lay for a while on the edge of the sidewalk until it seemed someone was asking him if he was all right and he didn’t know what to answer so he said yes, all right, but even as he did so it flashed across his mind that he wouldn’t want a policeman to find him there and he grew agitated, thinking he had to move on as quickly as he could, so clambered to his feet seeing that it was light and that two school-age children were looking at him sympathetically, asking him again if he was all right and whether they should call an ambulance, an ambulance, Korin echoed, oh, an ambulance and tried to tell them that they were on no account to call an ambulance because there was nothing really wrong with him, it was just that something had happened, he didn’t know what, but that everything was all right now and that they should leave him alone now, he’d be all right, until he realized that he was speaking Hungarian and quickly tried to find a few English words but nothing came, so he stood up and started down the sidewalk, walking with enormous difficulty, making it to the corner of Lexington Avenue and 51 st Street, then stumbled down into the subway and felt better among the swirling crowds where a battered figure like him would not be so conspicuous, because he was truly battered and shattered, he told his friend later, so utterly shattered he couldn’t imagine how he could ever be reassembled, but he got onto a train though he had no idea where it was going, nor did he care as long as it was away from there, and once he thought he was far enough away he got off and wandered over to a map and found the name of the station, which was somewhere in Brooklyn, but what could he do, what was there to do, he wondered in desperation, as he said later, and then he remembered what they had agreed when they parted, strange as it was that he should have forgotten everything about the last few hours except the fact that he had promised to deliver the manuscript to his new friend by six o’clock that evening, so the task was to get the manuscript, he said to himself, and he eventually found himself on a 7 train going back toward 42nd Street, but was very frightened, he said, since he realized how beaten up he was, not to say how dirty and stinking, with vomit all over him, frightened also that someone would stop him before he got home, but it was the last thing on anyone’s mind to stop him, everyone steering clear of him rather than confronting him, and so he reached West 42nd, transferred to a 9 train to get home, home as he kept muttering, home, the word itself like a prayer, dragging his body homeward, his body feeling as if it had been broken into a thousand distinct pieces, finally reaching the house and climbing the stairs still feeling so terrible that it never occurred to him that he had left the apartment for the last time the night before, though he should have given that a thought, he told the man later, because then he might have understood more clearly why he felt so much like a corpse.

11.

The two of them were in the kitchen among the boxes, the woman lying twisted and spread-eagled, her face completely beaten in, the interpreter hanging on the central heating duct but the blood all over his face showing he had been shot several times with a machine gun at close range—and he couldn’t scream, couldn’t move, as he stood in the open door, but slowly opened his mouth without any sound coming out of it, and then he wanted to go back the way he came, to get out of there but his limbs simply wouldn’t move, and when he was eventually able to move his legs they took him forward, closer to them, ever closer, and he felt a terrible pain in his head, so he stopped and stood still once again rooted to the spot and remained there for ages, standing and staring, unable to take his eyes off them, his face filled with horror, suddenly aged, and he opened his mouth again still without success, still silent, and took one more step forward but stumbled over something, the telephone, and almost fell, but instead of falling squatted down beside it and slowly punched in a number and listened a long time to the busy signal before realizing that he had dialed himself, and then he began searching in his pocket, but whatever he was looking for in an ever greater panic he couldn’t find, not for ages, and then it was there, the business card; uh, he grunted into the receiver, repeating the sound idiotically, uh, uh, uh, they’re dead, the pair of them, dead, the young lady and Mr. Sárváry, the man at the other end telling him to speak up and stop whispering, to tell him clearly what the matter was, but I’m not whispering, Korin whispered, they’ve killed them, both of them are dead, the young lady’s waist is twisted right out of shape, and Mr. Sárváry is hanging there; then get out of there as quick as you can, the man shouted into the phone; uh, and everything is smashed up, said Korin, then held the receiver away from his mouth, looked up with a terrified expression, then rushed out onto the stairs, pushed open the door of the toilet, leapt onto the seat, raised the tile and removed the money, gripping it in his hands, then rushed back into the apartment, picked up the phone and told the man that he knew, he knew at last what must have happened and started telling him about his landlord’s new job, about all his shopping, about the money in his hands, about the packets of white powder and the place where they were hidden and how he had discovered them, babbling on in ever greater confusion, ever more terrified by what he himself was saying as the man at the other end asked him again to stop whispering because he couldn’t hear him properly, but it was quite certain now, Korin continued, and he never once thought it would be Mr. Sárváry, not while he …, and he began crying, uncontrollably sobbing, so whatever he said the other man could not hear him for the sobs, sobs that shook him and went on shaking him so he couldn’t even hold the receiver, but then he picked it up again and listened and there was the man at the other end saying hello, are you still there? and when Korin replied that he was, the man told him to get out, and seeing that he had the money, hold on to it and bring it with him, definitely bring it with him and not to touch anything now but to leave the place, leave it now and come to his apartment or anywhere else he wanted to meet, can you still hear me? are you still there? the question hanging in the silent petrified air a long time but not receiving an answer because Korin had put the receiver down, screwed the money up in his coat and had started backing away, continually backing and weeping once more, finally stumbling down the stairs and out into the street, walking a couple of hundred yards and then beginning to run, to run as fast as he could, rushing on with the business card in his hand, gripping it so hard that his hand was all the time shaking with the effort.

12.

They were sitting in the three bucket chairs, the store dummy facing the TV, the man beside her and Korin beside him, and all was silent but for the hum of the television with the sound turned off and a washing machine in the bathroom grumbling, bucking and sloshing, none of them saying anything, the man having sat Korin down on his arrival and taking his place beside him but not asking anything for a very long time, just staring in front of him and thinking very hard, then eventually getting up, taking a glass of water and sitting back down again to reassure Korin that they would think of something but that first they had to clean his clothes because he couldn’t move a step dressed like that, and then he helped him strip the clothes off though it was obvious that Korin did not really know what was going on or why it was necessary which meant that it was only with the greatest difficulty the man succeeded in unbuttoning him, but eventually his garments lay in a heap at his feet, and the man gave him a bathrobe, then removed anything that remained in the clothes before taking them into the bathroom and putting the lot—coat, underwear and all—into the washing machine, starting it up, then returning to the armchair to sit there and think even harder; and so they sat there a whole hour until the washing machine in the bathroom, with one final gasp, came to the end of its cycle, and the man said he had better know, roughly at least, what had happened otherwise he couldn’t help to which Korin only answered that he had noticed the hiding place in the toilet before, but had believed one of the occupants downstairs to be responsible for it, since anyone could use the toilet on their floor, at which point the other interrupted him to ask what he meant by hiding place, and Korin simply repeated that it was a hiding place and that one day he found that the white packets in it had been replaced by money, and though the other tried to stop him asking what packet? which day? Korin went on saying he didn’t think it had anything to do with them, that it was so far from his mind in fact that he forgot to say anything about it, because suddenly there was all this chaos, a lot of people arriving at the apartment, taking everything away then returning the next day bringing things back, and this so confused the young lady that he felt he had to look after her, and he had no idea that it was the hidden stuff that was the cause of everything, and once again began to cry in the armchair, and was quite unable to answer another question the man put to him, so that he had to do everything himself, to look through his belongings, find his passport, examine it to check that it was valid at all, then spread the clothes out in the bathroom to dry and count to see how much money there was, finally working out what to do next, then sitting down beside him again, to tell him quite quietly there was only one solution, and that was that he should get out of the country as soon as possible, but Korin did not answer and just sat beside the dummy and cried.