So I expect we'll do a bunk together.
Pavel, who has already done his military service and astounded us with card tricks and by making tea disappear from a cup in front of our very eyes, says this place is just like the sort of hassle they got in the army: fatigue duty, kitchen rota, pigs and goats. And the punishments are the same: most often being confined to barracks. I wasn't allowed a leave pass yet anyway, so they couldn't take it away from me. Whenever our dear Radek, who was helping us to be normal people again, found that the floor wasn't completely clean, it had to be washed again. In the first week alone I had to scrub our bedroom floor three times. I was also put in charge of our four hens and a duck with some ducklings. They were always running away from me, especially the little ones, and last week a pine marten got one of them. Radek said it was fate and told me not to be too upset; pine martens were God's creatures too. I wasn't upset at alclass="underline" I was glad I had one little bugger less to keep an eye on. I called the pigs 'sausage dogs' 'cos they were so tiny, and when they were hungry, which was all the time, they squealed and set all the dogs around barking.
Apart from that, Radek is great, and he's cool in a way. He's got about eighteen children of his own and he still finds time to visit us in the evening. Sometimes he tells us about his life. He wasn't allowed to study 'cos he went to church — he was in a secret church or something, so he had to work for a living and has done almost every possible kind of job: roofing, laying pavements, doing deliveries, and working in a dry-cleaner's where they used to boil up clothes in some acid; when it evaporated it was more narcotic than regular dope. Sometimes his life was a bit like in an action movie 'cos he was always doing stuff with that church. Once, the Communist cops picked him up and tried to make out he'd got drunk and run over some kid. He told them he couldn't have run anyone over 'cos he didn't have a car and had never driven and those creeps said that was even more suspicious so they were arresting him. They told him they were taking him to the nick for interrogation and on the way they talked about how they'd say he'd been shot trying to escape. He didn't really believe them, 'cos if they'd been meaning to shoot him they wouldn't talk about it in front of him, but even so when they got there he refused to get out and they had to carry him. And that really happened: they carried him out and chucked him in some cell and left him there all night in the total cold without food and then they let him go the next evening. And he told us as well that he never even lost his rag over those cops 'cos according to him they didn't know what they were doing, and they were just totally demented due to the training they'd been given and also because of TV.
The thing is that Radek really knows how to take people apart. That allows them to form an attitude about themselves. He doesn't rabbit on about drug-taking being dreadful, he just helps us to think positively and realize why we needed to take dope and others didn't. I've already realized that I took dope to spite Dad because he thought that after they discovered the Big Bang it was all right to do your own thing and not give a damn about others. And that's what
he did. Radek had the feeling that what I'd wanted to be was different from him, and different from Mum too.
I get the feeling that I now know almost everything there is to know about me, as well as about Mum and Dad. It's really crucial to have an attitude to yourself and to people around you.
I really enjoy it when we sit and talk about each of us. Pavel, for instance, told us seriously that once when he was on a trip he wanted to bonk his own mum, and she was in such a state of shock she kept saying, Pavel, you must have mistaken me for someone; it's me, your mum — simply horrendous.
Last week when I was on kitchen rota I forgot to order the spaghetti that was supposed to be for lunch and as a punishment I was put on kitchen rota again the next day and in the evening I had to muck out the animals. I felt like dumping the shit under Radek's window, but it wouldn't have done me any good 'cos I'd have had to clear it up and then wash the lawn with a rag. So at least I broke two plates instead and then pretended to be all upset and said they'd slipped out of my hands by accident because they were wet.
The boys here are fairly ace and I think they fancy me. The other day Pavel picked me some daisies and swept the kitchen for me. And Lojza, who's due to go home soon, offered to help me with maths. But I told him I hadn't yet reached the stage where I could do any swotting. For the time being I have to concentrate my efforts on fighting with myself and beating my bad habits. Another time he told me he was sure I'd get over it; he told me I needed to believe in myself. I don't know whether I'll get over it; what I want is to get out of here. But apart from that I believe in myself.
One little crud who came here right after me did a runner two weeks later. I was curious what Radek would say about it, but all he said was if someone didn't want to stay here he was welcome to
go.
The day before yesterday I got my first letter from Mum. She
says she's missing me and has talked to Radek on the phone; he says he's fairly pleased with me. Would you believe it: after me forgetting to order the spaghetti and smashing those plates. He knew very well they didn't just slip out of my fingers and that I was putting it all on. Mum also sent me two hundred crowns for when I get a leave pass, and she said she'd drive down and was looking forward to seeing me. Not a word about that ginger bloke of hers; she didn't even give him the letter to sign. Maybe he's already chucked her over like Dad; I'd be really sorry for her if he did. And I've started to miss her a lot too and Ruda — I remembered what a great time we had, but most of all I miss my little room where no one came poking their nose in and no one yelled 'Wakey wakey!' at me at six in the morning.
Yesterday when Monika went shopping she swigged a bottle of beer in the supermarket and one of the cows that works there grassed on her to Radek. So Monika was immediately 'confined to barracks' and on top of that she had to wipe all the passages and stairs. Horrendous! She told me in the evening that she'd had enough of being hassled. She was going to do a runner and asked me if I wanted to come too. I told her I'd been thinking about it since the first day and if she was going I'd go with her, except I didn't know where I'd make for.
She suggested an aunt of hers near Písek. She wouldn't kick us out and we could even help her on the farm until we decide what next. I've got an aunt in Tábor, but she knows Radek so I expect she'd tell us to get lost.
Radek happened to be at some therapists' meeting or something so the only person in charge was Madla, a girl not much older than us who was only starting her training. She used to prat around with us in the evenings and sing songs and play the guitar. Then we'd have to wake her up in the morning. I was a bit sorry for her that she'd be in the shit on account of us, but Radek wasn't that sort. He'll say it was fate and if someone doesn't want
to stay in his heavenly Sunny Graveside they are welcome to leave.
So in the afternoon when we were all supposed to go somewhere to the forest for firewood I pretended I had a terrible headache. Monika was on kitchen rota and had to do the washing-up. As soon as the rest of them were gone we packed our rucksacks and left too, but in the opposite direction.
It was a glorious day and neither of us could understand how we'd managed to put up with it for so long: feeding the goat, mucking out, licking the lino and having to rabbit on about ourselves. When we got out of the forest we managed to thumb down a Trabant with some local dumbo at the wheel who was taking his wife to the dentist's in Blatná.