And there was plenty of room, she discovered: there was even space left between her and the gloomy passenger, who turned out to be very skinny: it was his coat that took up the most room.
The girl decided she would go ahead and tell them she didn’t know anything.
The driver, too, was very thin; otherwise they couldn’t have made themselves so comfortable in that tiny cabin. The driver’s nose was very stubby, and he was pretty ugly; he was completely bald and yet seemed very merry-he was constantly laughing, baring all his teeth. In fact, he never stopped grinning but somehow never made a sound. The other passenger kept his face hidden under his hood and was silent. The girl was silent, too: she had forgotten everything. They were passing empty streets, riddled with holes. The residents of that neighborhood must have been fast asleep in their homes.
“Where to?” asked the merry driver, showing all his teeth.
“I need to get home,” replied the girl.
“And where would that be?” the driver asked, laughing noiselessly.
“Well, we should take a right at the end of this street,” the girl said hesitantly.
“And after that?” the driver asked, chuckling.
“And then we’ll just keep going straight.”
The girl was afraid they’d ask for the exact address.
The truck was going very fast, but making no sound, even though the road was all holes.
“Where now?” asked the merry driver.
“Right here is good, thanks,” said the girl, and she began to open her door.
“And who’s going to pay?” the driver widened his cavern of a mouth. The girl once again searched her pockets and again found matches, a scrap of paper, and a key.
“I don’t have money on me,” she confessed.
“Don’t accept rides if you can’t pay,” cackled the driver. “We didn’t charge you the first time, and so you decided to make it a habit. Bring us money or we’ll eat you. We’re skinny and starved, isn’t that right? Isn’t that right, you dummy?” he addressed the other passenger with a laugh. “We feed on the likes of you! Just kidding.”
They all got out of the truck together. They were in some empty lot now, sparsely strewn with new apartment buildings that appeared deserted (at least, there were no lights). Some lonely streetlamps cast light on the lifeless windows.
The girl, still hoping for something to happen, walked as far as the last building and stopped. Her companions also stopped.
“Well, is it here?” the grinning driver asked her.
“Maybe,” the girl said, as if she might be joking, but she felt very awkward: in a moment they’d discover she’d forgotten everything.
They entered the building and began to walk up the dark stairs. Luckily, one could see the steps. The stairwell was very quiet. The girl chose a random floor and stopped at the first apartment, took out a key, and easily unlocked the door. The foyer was empty, and they walked through the apartment. The first room was empty too, but in the second room they discovered a tall pile of rags in the far corner.
“You see, there’s no money, but you can take these things,” said the girl to her guests.
She noticed, as she spoke, that the driver’s mouth was still open in a grin, while the other man kept looking away, hiding his face.
“And what is all this stuff?” asked the driver.
“These are my things. Take them-I won’t need them.”
“You mean it?” the driver asked.
“Of course.”
“Well, then,” the driver said, bending over the pile. Together with the passenger he examined the pile, and they began putting some of the things into their mouths.
The girl stepped back noiselessly and tiptoed into the corridor.
“I’ll be right back,” she called out, seeing the two heads turn in her direction.
In the corridor she tiptoed to the door and then out onto the stairs. Her heart was pounding, and she couldn’t catch her breath. “Thank God the very first door opened with my key. No one noticed that I don’t remember anything,” she thought.
She walked down one flight and heard loud steps behind her.
Immediately she thought of trying the key again and, to her surprise, it opened another door. She sneaked inside and locked the door behind her.
The apartment was empty and dark.
No one was pursuing the poor girl; no one was knocking at the door. Who knows, maybe the two strangers finally gave up on her and walked away with their pile of rags.
Now she could consider her situation. The apartment wasn’t very cold-that was good. She’d found a shelter, finally, albeit a temporary one, and she could lie down somewhere in the corner. Her neck and spine ached with fatigue. The girl walked quietly through the apartment. The windows let in light from the street, and the rooms were completely empty. When she entered the last room, her heart began to beat faster-she noticed a pile of rags in the corner, the same corner as in the apartment upstairs.
The girl waited for something else to happen, but nothing happened, so she walked to the pile and lay down on the rags.
“Are you crazy?” She heard someone’s choking voice and felt the rags moving beneath her like snakes. Immediately two heads and four arms poked through them: her two companions were vigorously making their way through the pile until, finally, they were free.
Her knees weak, the girl fled to the stairwell. Directly behind her, someone was slithering into the corridor. Then suddenly she saw a streak of light underneath the nearest door. Again, the girl used her key to unlock that apartment.
A woman stood on the doorstep, holding a burning match.
“Please,” whispered the girl, “please save me.”
Behind her, her two companions slithered down the stairs.
“Get in,” said the woman, lifting the match.
The girl tumbled inside and shut the door.
The stairs were quiet; they must have stopped to think.
“What do you think you’re doing, bursting into other people’s apartments at this hour?” the woman asked her roughly.
“Please, let’s get away from this door. Let’s go somewhere we can talk,” pleaded the girl.
“I can’t, the match will die if I walk,” the woman said hoarsely. “We only get ten matches each.”
“I’ve got some right here-please, take them.”
She found the matchbox in her pocket and offered it to the woman.
“Light one yourself,” the woman said.
The girl lit a match, and in its flickering light they walked down the corridor.
“How many do you have?” asked the woman, glancing at the matchbox.
The girl shook the box.
“Not many,” said the woman. “Now you probably have only nine left.”
“Do you know how to escape?” whispered the girl.
“You can wake up, but not always. I won’t wake up anymore. My matches are all gone-bye-bye,” and she began to laugh, baring her large teeth. She was laughing quite noiselessly, as if she simply wanted to stretch her mouth.
“I want to wake up,” said the girl. “I want to end this horrible nightmare.”
“As long as your match is burning, you can escape. I’ve just used my last match to help you. Now I don’t care what happens. In fact, I’d rather you stay. You know, it’s all very simple-you don’t have to breathe. You can fly wherever you want. You will need neither light nor food. The black coat will protect you from all your problems. I will soon fly over to check on my children. They were little brats-they never listened to me. The younger one spat at me when I told them their father wasn’t coming back. He cried, and then he spat. I can’t love them anymore. I dream of how I’ll fly to look at my husband and his new girlfriend. I don’t care about them, either. I’ve understood everything, finally. What a fool I was!”
And she laughed again. “With the last match my memory came back. I’ve remembered my entire life and know I was wrong. Now all I can do is laugh at myself.”
Indeed, she was grinning widely and soundlessly.