Alex smiled and gestured towards the homeless group again.
I shut my eyes and believed him.
The mental cases were still shuffling back and forth between our damaged town and the state-sanctioned territory of the Monument. They had eyes and ears everywhere. If there was something in the offing, they would know.
When I opened my eyes I saw the beautiful face of Maruška. She held my gaze for an instant, then shut her eyes. I lingered in the gentle movement of her eyelids as long as I could, then nodded.
Alex handed me the key to a locker at the airport and described what was in it. He told me when and where to wait for my go-between, who would take me to their homeland.
I said to Alex I thought the best go-between would be Maruška.
We looked at each other. I had no idea what he was thinking.
Doesn’t bother me that you guys are going under, Alex said. You had a good plan. Didn’t work out. Authorities weren’t on your side. Where we live it’s different. You’ll see.
I was really wishing he’d walk away.
I made up mind to go to see Lebo before I left. Maybe Sara, too. I’d already told Alex yes, but still, what would Lebo say? I had to ask.
As soon as the two of them had gone, I grabbed Bojek and crossed the grass to the mental cases, a few dozen metres away.
As I came close, they stiffened. All of a sudden they shrank into a hushed knot of tattered blankets, limbs and rags, booze fumes, a mix of eyes, hair, beards. Now what?
One of them chuckled.
Dumped, huh, big man? I heard a voice hiss from the hole. Got used to marchin’ around like the big man, didn’t cha? And now it’s over, huh? What cha gonna do now, eh?
So Alex was right, it’s been decided, this is the end of the Comenium. Bojek was rubbing against my leg. I slapped him on the back to move along. But he stayed. To my surprise a hand reached out of the knot with a bottle.
Stop yer starin’ and come warm up, ya cunt, someone muttered. I took the bottle. Went and sat down on the edge of their hideout, swinging my legs. Bojek chomped grass, eyeballing me. I had brought this red wine here with Sara, she picked it out, seemed like ages ago. Huh, they must’ve swiped it from the Comenium. Well, what do I care now?
I wanted to go and see Lebo, get up and go rouse the Comenium. But instead I sank down into the pit. A layer of newspapers, rags, strips of blanket protected us from the cold ground. We breathed on each other.
Then someone uncorked a jug of alcohol. We didn’t talk much after that.
And the bulldozers came in the morning.
6
Early the next day the yellow and orange machines rolled through the rubble around Manege Gate. In the dim light of dawn the excavators levelled the goat barn. Machines crushed walls and buildings, bulldozers and wailing sirens driving our students out of their bunk beds. Excavators ploughed into the kitchen, demolishing the ghetto pizza oven. Someone kicked me in the head as they scrambled out of the pit and I started to come round, a siren sinking its teeth into my hungover brain. I heard choppers too. Where’s Lebo? I wondered, clawing my way through the sparse bushes that camouflaged the hollow where I’d spent the night. From the top I could see the Comenium building. Jenda Kůs came up to me, an old guy, maybe he was the one who’d handed me the bottle last night. It was no use trying to get any closer. We saw a swarm of black-clad commandos on Central Square. The excavators and bulldozers tore away at the brick buildings as the members of the demolition crews walked around in orange vests. There were ambulances and students in shorts and T-shirts. Girls, all in a clump, surrounded by cops, walking them to the patrol cars. A couple of them tried to make a break for it, but this was an organized action, they were rounding up everyone. Even Lea the Great! She was wielding a huge pair of compasses, battering them from on high. Then they threw a net, pulled it in, and she was on the ground. I scanned the area for the big man, Lebo. I knew he would put up a fight. We won’t give up a single brick, a single bunk, those were his words. Maybe he had run off and hidden between the buildings somewhere, or maybe he’d already taken a baton blow to the head. Being tall is no help when it comes to a direct hit — he was probably the first one they dragged away. I’m sure he stood up for his people, though, especially now! A blond ponytail flashed behind the backs of the commandos. Sara? Most people went to the ambulances voluntarily. At least they were ambulances, I didn’t see any vans. The police had the Comenium surrounded, and they were taking Aunt Fridrich, who looked huge in her nightgown! I had to laugh. Kůs burst out laughing too. She carried it off pretty gracefully, raising her hands above her head like she was surrendering! Hee hee, Kůs chuckled. We watched the last act of the Comenium through the blades of grass. It was hilarious — cops and doctors all over the place on account of a couple of grannies. Someone tossed a blanket over Aunt Fridrich’s back. I didn’t see the other old ladies, maybe they were already sitting in the ambulances. But what about Lebo? I looked for him till my eyes hurt. No sign of the Belarusians, but that didn’t surprise me.
A helicopter made another circle over Central Square and disappeared into the sky. The action was over. The ambulances, escorted by patrol cars, slowly pulled away, until the only sound from the square and the surrounding streets was the clamour of demolition crews following in the bulldozers’ tracks with crowbars and hooks. I made up my mind and ran, crouching, down the hillside, which was probably only possible thanks to the general vertigo I felt after all that booze the night before. It only took a minute, down the hill, along the goat track, to the square, dodging the fallen beams and chunks of brickwork, avoiding the men in orange vests shining their lights in the gloom. A couple of cops were still wandering around. I crept closer. The Comenium doors were wide open: this was where they’d brought the students out. Lebo, are you in there? I shouted as loud as I could. Hey, Lebo! All around me machines were rumbling, excavator shovels crushing bricks and beams, stacks of bricks and roofing tiles. So this is a funeral march, I thought. What a strange tune, the town’s last military music. The men with hooks and the cops hadn’t made it this far yet. I slipped into the corridor, tripping over a trainer, a sweater, stuff that people had dropped as they were being dragged away. The bunkroom was still clammy with the breath of sleepers, blankets scattered all over the ground. I slipped into the computer corner, behind the partition. I’d known what I wanted to do for some time, so I got on with it.
I needed to wipe all my fingerprints off that computer — I didn’t want to go back to jail, I couldn’t. There were notebooks all over the place, floppy disks, CDs, all sorts of junk. I couldn’t wipe my prints off everything, I’d never manage it, so I grabbed a bottle of thinner from under the desk and popped back out to the corridor, where the aunts kept their cleaning things. I took all the thinner, a bottle of alcohol, snatched just one thing off the desk, stuck it in my pocket, a scrap of paper, a piece of shiny envelope with Mr Mára’s US address. Never played that game of his and now I never would. I tore the cap off the bottle with my nails and poured it over everything. One match and the flame went shooting up. Like an idiot I scorched my hair, singed my arms — it hurt so bad my stomach flipped. The plastic melted as the flames went creeping across the boards. I couldn’t believe the way the wood was curling up. Bang! The bottle exploded, red-hot splinters of glass flying every which way. When I opened my eyes again, there were thin flames licking at the bunks, wood crackling. I kicked the desk as I groped my way across the room, my foot slipped on a blanket, there was smoke everywhere. Suddenly I was startled by a squealing sound, a moan. A hand poked out from under the blanket, a tear-stained face, glasses. Come on! I wanted to scream, but instead I just squealed too. I pushed Rolf ahead of me. He was crawling on all fours, I couldn’t get past him. I felt heat on my back, the bunk frames were collapsing. Rolf was hopping on one leg. I gave him a kick and pushed him out of the door, into the corridor. We stood panting, gasping for breath in the smoke. Rolf held on to the door, pointing. But I couldn’t understand, couldn’t hear.