Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2004 - Ljudmila

Szilárd Podmaniczky
hand I had buttoned it up to the neck so as not to freeze. I was simply
loitering, but then it occurred to me that if I was going to steal anything,
I would have to be snappy about it, before I became conspicuous.
I half unbuttoned my jacket and made my way along the row of
stallkeepers like someone who had business there. On one trestle stood
piles of carrots and apples; the vendor was deep in discussion with her
neighbour, before whose stall there was a small queue of customers for
eggs. I lifted a few grubby carrots and apples, whisked them under my
jacket, buttoned it back up, and dodged past the queue.
The icy-cold carrots and apples pressed on my stomach; my hands were
so cold they had lost aIl sensation. If I were to leave the village, I would
freeze, so I had to stay there, and I longed, with every fibre in my body, to
get myself under cover. Without much further ado, I set off back towards
the old man’s house.
It was strange how much at home I felt moving around that unfamiliar
place. I let myself in, dumped the stuff from my jacket in the kitchen then
looked in on the old chap; he was lying there just as before, but as I stepped
closer my nose was assailed by the stench. He had shit himself and wetted
the bed. I dithered for a while: this was unbearable, it had quite taken my
appetite away. I thought the whole thing over afresh; my head was clear
by now.
I chopped up some kindling in the yard, lit a fire in the kitchen range,
put on water to heat up. Within minutes warm air was wafting through
the kitchen, so I opened the connecting door to the other room. Having
washed in the hot water, I felt a great deal better. I turned the old man
over onto my bed, wiped his arse, yanked the soiled sheet off his bed,
shoved it into a bowl of steaming, soapy water, laid my own sheet under
the old chap, then aired the room. Only at this point did I pause for a
moment: how come the beds had been made for two? No matter, maybe it
was the doctor, I thought to myself.
The walls soon warmed through, and I took the soiled sheet in the
bowl of water out into the yard. I inspected my hands, and it struck me,
for no particular reason, what a lot of things they had handled already. I
rinsed the carrots and apples, pealed them, and chopped them up onto a
plate for the old man.
I sat him up in the bed; he did not open his eyes, though from time to
time there was a flash of the whites of the eyeballs, but I could only get a
few morsels down him, and three sips of water. He swallowed mechanically;
I had to hold his head tight so he would not choke, and told him in
a loud voice what to do: Swallow! Chew! Sip!
I went back into the kitchen and slumped onto the chair; I was exhausted.
I slowly nibbled up the carrots and apples, stoked the fire, took
my jacket off, then tried to gather my wits in order to work out how I was
going to get home. I was not going to set off that day - that I was sure of.
And I also thought to myself that anyway the doctor would be coming the
next morning, maybe I could trust him, tell him everything, scrounge some
money, and clear off.
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