Then we moved on again and arrived at the Holýs’, where the stabbed and stitched-up altar boy lived, and Mr and Mrs Holý came out and Commander Žinka gave them a sheet of paper, and they signed it and they also fetched a bottle and poured a drink for Mr Kropáček as well, and for anyone else who wanted one, but not us, and Mrs Holý was holding her hankie to her eyes and sobbing, and she said, ‘So we haven’t been forgotten by them in Prague! And how’s that nice Mr Dubček?’ And Commander Žinka had his stumps jammed firmly in the ladder, and he was attaching the loudspeaker wires with pliers, and he called down, ‘Sasha Dubček’s okay!’ and they all shouted ‘Hurrah!’ and ‘Hurrah!’ and Mr Holasa’s ‘Hurrah!’ was the loudest. He had brought a whole pail of sausages and frankfurters, and Mrs Holasa carried a tray full of bread!
Everyone helped themselves and Mr Holasa even came over to us — the Bandits! — and he said, ‘All right, lads, you have some too… Today’s a great day!’
Our front line swarmed around the bucket and cleaned it right out.
Then we moved on. The whole village was on the march and some people were waving Czechoslovak flags and red, white and blue banners, some of which had slogans like THE TRUTH PREVAILS stitched on them, and the old women of Siřem were at the church, but the church was closed. Father Francis wasn’t there any more. Hadn’t been for a long time. The church was all boarded up, and Commander Žinka ordered a loudspeaker to be erected in front of the church, and we helped him with it.
Dýha knew which wires he needed. Páta handed him the pliers, and Mikušinec the hammer. Me and Chata, we held the ladder… but I felt queasy.
It was warmer among the houses than down by the stream. The great big sun was unbearable, pounding away at the white walls of the cottages. The heat bore down on me and I didn’t know whether I could take it. I felt hot inside as well. I was supposed to be holding the ladder while Žinka swung on it, but it felt more like I was holding on to support myself.
We were in the middle of a great free-for-all. We were surrounded by the entire populace of Siřem. I looked at the people between the rungs of the ladder, breathing the hot air. Over by the church I could see a girl in a yellow dress and next to her a girl in a red dress. They waved and their gazes cut right into me. I looked away and there was a girl in a green dress standing right by the ladder; we were so close that we could have touched cheeks. She was smiling at me, holding out a tray of little glasses. Men’s hands immediately reached for the tray, so then all I could see were their sweaty vests and shirts and their sweaty necks, and then the girl slipped out of the circle of thirsty men, taking her tray with her, and she was gone.
I half-turned my head towards the church and glimpsed the fluttering red dress. It disappeared in the crowd and the fluttering of red, white and blue flags. I kept blinking, because of the glare of the sun bouncing off the church walls and all the white-painted house-fronts right into my eyes, and Chata thumped me on the shoulder, because I’d stood on his foot, and he said, ‘Hold the ladder!’
This time there were far more people in front of the church than when Commander Baudyš was trying Dýha and Chata, and as Commander Žinka clambered down from the ladder one of the old village women knelt down and kissed his hand, saying, ‘We’ve got our freedom at last!’ and she was crying. In front of the church two old women were pushing Mr Cimbura along in a wheelchair, and there were more girls either side of him. But no Hanka! In no time at all, they had laid a plank across two crates and Mr Cimbura floated round to the other side of the plank, and he had something. A wodge of something or other, which he was handing out. I watched. The altar boys were milling around him, and Dýha! — Dýha as well — joined them, as cool as a cucumber. Mr Cimbura was handing out pictures of Czechia. Dýha was followed by Mikuš and then Mikušinec came back and showed us the pictures of Czechia! I wanted one too, but me and Chata were busy folding away the ladder, so I couldn’t get one.
People were passing bottles around and eating, and gangs of Siřem boys were running about everywhere. Dýha was back with us. Us Bandits were together again.
Then Mr Dašler turned up and he had loads of tarts in the cab of his pickup. They were still warm. I know, because we got some as well. And Commander Žinka was sitting down and Mr Holasa and Mr Dašler and Mr Moravčík were standing up in the back of the pickup and chatting. Mrs Kropek was waving a banner saying THE TRUTH PREVAILS and Mrs Holasa and Mrs Dašler and other people were waving Czech flags and various religious banners like those I saw inside the church… And Commander Žinka told everyone there that the evil times under the scourge of Sovietism and bolshevism would never return and that our leadership with Sasha Dubček at their head (‘Hurrah! Hurrah!’ everyone roared at this point, even us Bandits) would never betray the people! Then Mr Holasa took the microphone and read from a sheet of paper, saying that it came from Prague, declaring the creation of the Siřem Autonomous Zone — Siaz! — and that in many places all over the country zones of resistance were springing up against the incursion of foreign troops. And everybody clapped like crazy, then Commander Žinka spoke into the loudspeaker and said that the Soviet Union was standing ready on the borders, but that this time the West wouldn’t abandon us and that there would be no repetition of Munich! Then Mr Holasa grabbed the loudspeaker from him and bellowed, ‘Just let ’em come! We’ll give ’em what for!’ and everybody clapped and shouted and rejoiced. People sounded the horns on their cars and tractors, which they drove around covered in flags, then they sang: ‘Where is my home? Water murmurs among the meadows…’ and so on. That’s our national anthem. We used to learn it. And none of us was allowed to move, and I looked round and the ones who had been kneeling quickly got up and they’d all taken off their hats and caps, and some of them were crying, goodness knows why! Stupid buggers. Mikušinec and Páta also started snivelling, but they were just taking the piss… And then there was a moment’s silence, so they could all wipe away their tears.
Then total mayhem broke out with shouts of ‘Hurrah!’ and ‘Three cheers!’ and hats and caps flying through the air, and the people with flags swished them this way and that. I was all agog, forgetting to keep my wits about me — then someone grabbed me and dragged me into a side street, and then I was lying on the ground and the altar boy Holý was standing over me and there were two others with him, and Holý said, ‘Ciao, Avar!’ and then they twisted my arms and dragged me off somewhere between the cottages.
11: Making friends. Nuns is nuns. Killing
They hauled me off into someone’s backyard and there was Martin sitting there, lounging in the sun and munching something, and when he saw me he shouted, ‘Hi there!’
I still expected to get a good beating, but the altar boys just stood around, so I said to Martin, ‘Hi! Everything okay?’
And he said, ‘Sure. You’re going to be our negotiator, man.’ Then he told the altar boys, as if he were pals with them, ‘He’s a saboteur, guys.’
Holý came over to me and said, ‘So you’re a Russian saboteur, are you? You Russian?
‘Bollocks, man!’ shouted Martin. ‘That’s Ilya.’
And the boy with freckles said, ‘You a real Czech? Say something in Czech.’