“Boys, have you gone completely nuts?” There you go, my voice squeaks like a mouse whose tail’s been stepped on; it trembles and breaks off. “Žilvinas, I could almost be your mama.”
“Yeah, it ain’t worth picking up old women,” one of them agrees with me, Dolby it seems. “She’s probably worn out.”
“What do you know, my child,” Žilvinas says to him in a dreamy voice; they’re talking over my head, not paying attention to me at all, I’m just a thing. “What are you talking about!? An old woman? She’s a woman in the prime of life. A specialist. An expert! She’ll get into it; you’ll see, she’ll knock us out! We’ll have to hide from her yet, you’ll see!”
I can no longer get a word out: I’m just opening and shutting my mouth; Žilvinėlis’s clear eyes are already undressing me, I feel faint, but when they start undressing me with their hands I suddenly get my strength back: it seems I’m struggling, it seems I’m biting, where’s my dagger — you don’t even need to stab, it’s enough to turn its blade in the light; the blow is sudden, short, brutal — jujitsu? Karate? Kung fu? It’s even better this way: the fear subsides, I feel faint and my head spins a bit, God knows, it’s almost pleasant.
“It’s okay for Dad, but for the son, you say no way? That’s not nice, Aunt Stefanija, it’s simply not right.”
“It’s no fun with an old woman,” one of them muses to himself. “Once, when I was maybe sixteen, this widow glommed on to me. Phew! I tell you for real — phew!”
“Listen, Roza,” Žilvinas calmly lectures, “so, you go catch yourself some local bimbo, fuck her — and what of it? She’s a little fool, she’s powerless. And this is a mature woman, old enough to be your mother, and you. . Don’t you get what the thrill is? Use your brains! Think about it!”
He shuts up, because suddenly I get my voice back:
“Boys, come to your senses. . Boys. . Boys. . I can’t. . I have my period. . Really, really. . It’s my period, I can’t. . I bought gauze, see, gauze — there, in my purse. .”
Žilvinas’ face twists up unpleasantly, probably it’s a smile; even Stadniukas didn’t know how to toss off grimaces like that.
“Aunt Stefanija, what do you take us for!?” he snarls, his voice not at all velvety anymore. “What kind of childish excuse is that, what kind of lie? You know we’ll check.”
He snaps his fingers, I try to resist, but that’s naïve and in vain, the gangsters in training know how to hold on, and it’s Žilvinas who checks, who else; he really does look, I’ve never experienced a feeling like that before, it’s indescribable, after that all that’s left is to die, while Žilvinas calmly raises his finger to the light, he even sniffs at it — what’s going on here, maybe it’s a dream — I stand there a mess, my skirt turned up, my underwear pulled down and there’s nothing, nothing, I can do against this impossible villainy: this is a dream, this kind of helplessness is possible only in a dream.
“It’s true,” Žilvinas says with a strange gaiety. “And here I was thinking: why is that dog sticking to her? Aunt Stefanija isn’t lying. The tampon’s bloody too, and it stinks to high heaven.”
“The old lady won’t suck. Probably doesn’t even know how,” says Roza disappointedly, he’s called Roza, I’ll remember that nickname all my life. “It’s useless.”
“So what, if she doesn’t suck. We’ll get one on anyway — what’s the difference. Don’t tell me you’re going to go out looking again?” This one was quiet up until now; don’t tell me they’re going to, after all, it hurts me, it hurts, boys, it hurts me, you can’t during my period, the first day, I’ll die; have pity on me, boys.
”Come on, it’s not that bad,” Žilvinas firmly contradicts me. “But it’s a subtle thing — the blood could get infected, then she’ll die. Are we some kind of murderers?”
I start laughing out loud, hysterically, everything is mixed up inside me: death, menstruation, gang rapes and the massacres after the war, the churches of Vilnius and wads of gauze, the fog of the swamp, Lolka’s little finger in Martis’s pocket. I laugh uproariously, they pull back, talk among themselves, paying no attention to me, and I laugh: screw me, yes, I was the earth and I belonged to everyone, but I won’t belong to you, screw me, shit on me, try and force me — I’ll bite you, I’ll taste fresh blood; too bad I have my period: I’d surrender my whole body to you, torture you, put you to sleep, and then I’d trample your wretched balls, I’d take revenge for Martis, and Gedka, and Tedis, and Vargalys, and for myself. For myself.
Probably they’ll just scare me and throw me out, I need to remember the apartment number, maybe something can be done to them, but what — I no longer have anyone to advise or help me: I look closely at Žilvinas’s face, Žilvinas was the king of the snakes, this one’s a snake too, his face is calm and pretty again, elegant men like that always give women their seat on the trolleybus, his buddies would scare you to death in a dark alley, and you’d run to him looking for help, I’ve long since stopped laughing because his gaze stops my heart — what have they thought up now, what else can you think up?
“I don’t know. .” Roza breaks off doubtfully.
But Dolby even licks his lips, that one’s really insane, he could do anything; for the moment I don’t believe my ears; this is unreal, this doesn’t happen, it’s really not me they grab, force face down onto the couch stinking of sour sperm; it isn’t me whose clothes they’re taking off, my body’s totally limp, but I still resist, I can’t scream anymore, I’ve probably torn my vocal cords, I resist again, my shoulder really hurts, they must have sprained the joint, but now it makes no difference, now it makes no difference at all, I’m not here or I won’t be soon — what’s the difference.
“Hand me the cream,” Žilvinas mutters, “And hold her.”
They lift me, put me down on all fours, my body’s completely limp, all of my muscles are slack, I’m as calm as a corpse, my thoughts are numb, how nice it is that they hit me on the neck, uh-oh, I’m gonna let loose in a minute, says Dolby, I see him when I turn my head, he’s sitting on a chair; Žilvinėlis presses up to me, aims at me, I feel his thighs against my thighs, his pubic hair on my fanny and — oh, it almost doesn’t hurt, how hopelessly calmly I’m thinking, or maybe I’m not thinking at all anymore, I just try to move my shoulder where it won’t hurt so badly anymore, I just hear my farting, smell the double stench — from both fore and aft; it’s not true, it can’t be true, I’ll die, this is a nightmarish dream, it almost doesn’t hurt, it’s just revoltingly unpleasant, no, this isn’t happening for real, I’m not here, I’m not, I’m not, my rear hurts, but does that matter — I’m already dead, I’m being done in by the dragon, then I’ll turn into a dragon myself too.
“Well, guys, cool!” says the dragon in Žilvinas’s velvet voice.
“Oh yeah, sure,” Roza doubts, “you’re all shitty.”
“What do you know,” mutters Dolby, he’s taking off his pants; opening my eyes, I see his hairy thighs right here, I quickly close my eyes again.
This isn’t true, this isn’t even a dream, it doesn’t exist at all, my butt stings even worse, it doesn’t just sting anymore — it seriously burns — it’s the flame of a bonfire, it’ll burn out my guts and I’ll die — that would be best.
“Blood!” Dolby announces, charmed. “Like a hymen, huh?”
“Bloody shit,” Roza corrects him angrily. “I’m not interested. Let her get dressed.”