Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2004 - Ljudmila

Szilárd Podmaniczky
though some creature were trying to enter my head, just at the point where
the dull ache was throbbing. I gingerly drew back and turned over. I was
lying in a twin bed, and there was somebody sleeping beside me; only the
top of the head was showing, the hair spread in clumps on the pillow, and
a long arm, the fingertips of which had slipped onto the nape of my neck.
I clambered out of bed. It was daybreak already, and it could have been
no more than a few degrees above freezing in the room. I found my clothes
at the foot of the bed and dressed, but I could not find my briefcase.
The place was unfamiliar but that did not surprise me; I was used to
that sort of thing by now and merely thought to myself, another fine mess...
I went out of the room and in the kitchen drank some water and rinsed
my face. From the kitchen window I was able to look out on a yard in
which stood piles of dry, chopped-up trees and beside them a smallish
fruit tree-cherry, perhaps. The sky was overcast and an autumn mist spilled
down the bole of the tree. I stepped out into the yard to take a breath of
fresh air. A man greeted me from next door, and I returned the greeting.
I went into the house to look for my briefcase and push off home. It
grew lighter whilst I was searching. The somebody in the bed stirred,
pulled down the bedclothes from over its head, but did not open its eyes.
An old man. He was champing, trying to swallow his spittle. My fear suddenly
pervaded the whole house. I had no idea how I had come to be
there, or who the old man I had slept next to might be. I attempted to
retrieve the last image from my memory, but I could no longer put even a
day on what I did remember.
With a great effort, the old chap twisted halfway round in the bed, and
said something in a high-pitched voice, almost whistling and whining:
»You’ve come?«
I didn’t know whether he was just talking to himself or I was also expected
to answer. I felt diabolical. I dithered a bit longer on account of
my briefcase before deciding that it didn’t matter, the main thing was to
clear off. No sooner had I made up my mind, though, when a car drew up
under the window and its headlights switched off. I started to sweat again
in my clammy and stinking clothes. I was so jumpy that I trembled all
over. It was too late now to make a bolt from the house. I have to hide, I
thought to myself. But the whole house was made up by just two bare
rooms; there was nowhere to go. I looked out of the window: it was not a
police car. I calmed down a little at that, but the next instant there was a
knock at the door. Having tidied my clothes and also my hair, there was
nothing for it but to open the door. Good morning, said the man in yellow
overalls, a doctor’s bag in one hand. Good morning, doctor, I replied,
come in. How is the old fellow, he asked. Well..., I said, but without waiting
for an answer the doctor went straight into the room and pulled a
chair across to the bed. You came yesterday, he asked. Something like that,
yes, I said, and started slowly to feel my way into the role, or rather it
occurred to me that I might scrape through if I were to enter into the
swim of it.
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