Translated Accounts (8 page)

There is not money for food, but food smells from the kitchen are free. I also was hungry. We would eat later. We would wait here longer, twenty minutes.

These waiters watching her. Yes, beautiful woman. I saw the elder waiter observing also, not antagonistic, inventing our story. He would say it to his wife this afternoon, home for two hours,
again returning here for evening. Yes, now he wondered, perhaps I was a different one to what he supposed, suspected. The waiters knew that she was not a tourist, not foreign, they knew that, only
seeing her. And now of myself, observing how we were together. I had the second cigarette then, gave it to herself, she smoking it, having her peace, later returning it to me, sipping her coffee.
Yes and soon all attention was gone of individuals, frantically, oh what upheaval now waiters and customers, the disturbance proper had come from the designated building and onto the street, beyond
proper eyeview, people crowding to the windows overlooking the harbour, all action, screams and more shooting, rapid fire, more rapid fire, now pistol shots. We remained in our seats. Outside was
further activity. I continued talking to her, she staring away from me to those who stood by the window watching the scene beyond, customers also, and securitys, I saw them arriving down from our
side and farther along men were carrying a body and many securitys now rushing here, there, to there, to here, again. We also were moving, up from the table, bag over my shoulder, leaving money for
the drinks, the waiters by the door shifting slightly, one staring to us, them allowing us to squeeze our way past, as if not seeing us, not seeing us. The elder waiter did not notice our
leave-taking, his face turned towards the extraordinary event now taking place on the street beyond their window, and it was wonder there, his eyes were wide, how such a thing might happen! yes,
how so, it is extraordinary, how life may be, for many it is so, always.

We walked by the promenade, away from these other places, and I spoke of my time in the restaurant, impressions of the waiters, the boy and the elderly fellow, great-grandparent, silver brushes,
uncles in America, what future, no future, if within these areas perhaps already dead, but such is a common story and I said so to her. She hesitated a moment, looking to me, her hand to my arm. I
saw that we passed a modern bar now and at the entrance women were sprinkling something and it was onto a liquid thick liquid, a rancid liquid, as buttermilk, something, that odour. They sprinkled
onto this liquid, a disinfectant and methodically, their mind elsewhere, worlds lost.

I had risen early, unable to sleep, and was preparing to leave. My companion was sleeping. I saw her box there and looked into it. I had given the box to her, having found it
in a place I cannot remember, it was wooden, decorative. She kept articles there, trinkets, also her notebook. She said notebook, it was not notebook, child’s diary. I opened this
child’s diary to read, as she said, as her thoughts were there. I read, now seeing my thoughts also were written there. She said to me she would write down my thoughts and had done it. I did
not want her to do this. I told her. She smiled, if I was pretending, I was not. It gave a strange feeling for myself. She said, You are superstitious, I did not suppose you were. She smiled and
touched my face but something now in myself and she withdrew her hand. What is it?

If you write then you write, what I may say to you, I cannot stop you.

It is to keep our thoughts by me. You have your mind, your memory.

I can lose my memory. What is wrong?

Nothing is wrong, I do not want you to write our thoughts into the notebook.

You are superstitious.

No, only I do not want you to do it, it says a thing of the future.

Superstition.

I had said nothing more to her. I sounded foolish, yes, superstitious. Now when I looked I saw in her diary words I remembered,
if there are children, and there are, what is it we are to do,
there is that. I do not believe in God. There is nothing else. Only continuation
. These words of my thoughts, her words.

I heard her breathing, she was on her back, her mouth opened a little, it is true I saw then how she would be if older, an old woman but now we would die, of course I would die. Herself, I think
so. How long it would be for us. I turned the pages. More. These words were drunken thoughts were drunken. So, when I had said these to her, I was drunk. I must have been so. Where we then had
been? I could not remember, but not this town.
Would we live beyond that time. Always
. I spoke nonsense. She wrote down my nonsense.

If she had written this as expressed by myself, foolish foolish, childish arrogance.
There is no god, only continuation, we shall live forever. Can a future be there for ourselves
. Yes. I
had said this to her, yes, but the answer to her question is no, there will come no future. Herself myself. If we might remain as man to woman together, beyond that time. The light
extinguished.

No. I have said, no.

I could not read further. I watched her sleeping. Her eyelids flickered, she dreamed. I was tired but could not return to her side. Yet I could not sleep, had I, if I so could return. There was
no time, no time, what is time, we had none, time for continuation, such words always words and my thoughts of my thoughts, what thoughts were. So much more, and that I could not say to her, as my
first thought, if I would awaken.

But beyond also was life. I knew it. This only was a room and we were guests of one family, now to be gone. I prepared for the departure, put her box into one bag, roused her, kneeling, laying
my hand to her brow, my hand to cup her skull. She quickly was awake, in that moment looking to myself, so, I am the one, yes, she smiled. I kissed her lips. Her lips were softer at this time,
morning and from sleep, her lips drawing me once more under the covering and her warmth always softness, I kissed her and the roughness there. She said that my moustache made a rash on her. There
was no razor.

I had water for her to wash, some bread had been left for us by the family. There had been a meeting of people the previous night. Later we made to leave, I said to her, I can knock on their
door, we will say goodbye.

No.

No?

They do not want it.

There is the children, they played with us.

We should go now. She took my hand, looking to the bags there, and she had our equipment also. I took the larger bag from the floor, very heavy, settled it onto my shoulder, adjusting that
weight, now seeing the bottle of wine from last night, we had brought it. There are spoils, I said, pointing to the side of the pallet. My companion looked, waiting if I would say more but nothing
and so she nodded, reaching to the door handle.

Her key was in the lock, moments ago. I saw my eyes in the mirror, they did not look tired. This now was evening and work was there, it was to be done. I can say work. This
town with thousands of people, thousands and many many thousands, tens thousands. If she was not exhausted beyond all, if she might return outside, there was a cafe and the people were of
colleagues, family, and safety. I would take her to it. She had been gone for six days. How she would be now, if the time had been difficult and for these colleagues beside her, how had they been
and had all survived it. People do not survive, of course it is true, awkward times difficult times, but she had survived. I knew this, having received advice. But what also was there, something
also there, it was at my brain, now into my brain, and I was preparing for something from her, something. What it was, I did not know. If what was expected, that I might expect it from her, it so
could not be, she would do differently, always. But what would happen, something had happened or would to happen. I could not think it but knew it.

And her key in the lock, yes, she had entered, hearing now her movements beyond the door. My memory also returned, yes, she would sense it, myself, presence of my life, as suffocating her, why I
was here, it was her room, if I had forgotten.

Yes I had forgotten, what lay between us.

If she also had forgotten.

She entered. She had not forgotten. I saw this at once. Neither speaking to me, nor looking to me, if what I could do, nothing. She had bags and inside the room now she unpacked these bags, two
bags, and put things into the drawers, cupboard that she had. I had none. My things were in one bag, where was the bag, the bag was under the bed, I had no cupboard, it was for her, all was for
her, in her room.

I greeted her. She did not reply. If she did not hear my words, perhaps I thought these words only, not speaking them, if I do not exist but in my own mind, people can so exist, not exist. I
turned from her, looking from the window, outside this building, high building, number of floors high, numbering six, seven, something, I did not count them, perhaps now, keeping my mind active,
how many floors high are we now in this building,

for she could not say to me how are you, not even that, how are you. If I exist in my own mind. She could not greet me! No! I asked her what it is. I said to her. What is wrong? Something, what
is it? I said.

Now she looked and I saw at once the distance in her, distance from myself was there in her eyes, I saw it there and it was great.

I smiled. If I challenged her, I think so. I did not want her to hurt me, knowing that she had. Yes she had hurt me. We had been together now weeks, many weeks, sharing all matters, enduring
these. What I am to say of it, this is as it was, my love. What do women do, if I knew, I did not know but also having to turn from her, seeing from the window, how outside that it was now dark,
even since her return it so had become. I was silent, looking. She also looked to the window, there were the mountains. Night sky. Here high up, higher, seeing it, her chair by the window. From
this place it is also beautiful, there is not the sea, we observe no sailing vessels, the world does now lie beyond, or if so, may it, this world is bounded, there are perimeters, perimeter, one
sense of that world which is our world, forced onto ourselves, we ourselves, our people. If we might sail somewhere. I said it to her. Perhaps so, sailing from here, so far and onward, to the
ocean, new lands far from us now. Could we? Why not, we two, our lives together. I said it to her, if we might sail somewhere.

She did not move. I waited. The night grew darker so too light in the room, diminished, I did not move to press the switch, neither she nor myself, could she move, I could not. This then was the
death silence. I supposed it. I may speak of it. I was sitting, we two were sitting, I on the bed she on the chair by the window. Before she had left these days ago I was sleeping she would be on
this chair, unable to sleep, wondering that I did so, why was that. I said to her why not. You have no guilt, yes, I have no guilt, I can sleep, easily. I cannot, she said, I am so tired but
cannot. She waited I waited, yes, also, for she was to speak. I would have spoken. Then, later. When, then. Anytime, or once more, if so. But it was to her firstly. She was to speak, it was her.
Long minutes had passed. We make our shapes, our own fictions. We see these blueblack clouds and shadows, all presences, people now dead in life, living inside our brains. Recall where we then
were, and plunging through clouds, such a thought was with me, should I jump, yes, I could jump, she did not know, none did know but certainly I could. If they would push not push, if they might
request then I would jump, perhaps she also, she also. She too is human being, having seen all such troubles, we too. What is it that she thinks, thinking I should be there if she is, only that she
is therefore I am unable to move. And with work to do, my work is to be done and it is necessary work.

Now to the window once more. I am saying that she did not look to me but to the window and I did not to her but also to the window and I smelled her, knowing her, only if to touch her, yes,
wanting to touch her and hold her to myself, of course. Into the night sky, we stared into it, yes, I would jump from here, plunging through clouds, what life is it that we have, people gone and so
plunging when so pushed as this woman who thought I was only there, and without her I might jump from here, to my death, leaping, death is escape, death is now being safe, resting, resting, I would
jump from there, if she looked to me in a certain manner, if only she looked in that manner certainly I would jump plunging through clouds, certainly I would do this, it is certainement, yes madam
colleague my love, companion-colleague how are you today, it is evening, bonne nuit for you, buenas noches, it is good that we are alive, hullo, is it good. If what she wanted from me I do not
know, do not know, what it is, I am to do and say, what I can I do, I do not make revolution, what this is, I do not know, surviving to age naturally, what we individual people are, human beings,
my love, she cannot bear that she is with me, I saw this in her, she did not

offensive to her, I was offensive, to her

Still she could not say anything, speak to me, why can she not, not to speak to me, this long time together, through much that we had been these many many weeks and then nothing, who she had
met, she had met someone, of course she had, if not, if she had not what was she, godlike being, woman of all earth and heaven, woman from planet Mars, whose body I so know who knowing, my body
also

I was trembling, shivering now, trembling, one, yes, what happened, I say how she gave one cigarette to myself, another to her. She had cigarettes. She gave one to myself, one to her, herself.
But if we smoked we smoked together, it is how that we did so, smoking one cigarette, together. Now here separate, she gave one to myself and to herself. This was significant for me. I might be
angry. Of course. I was not. I might be sad, no, I was not. Let us clear matters here. I did work as was necessary. Work that I did, I can say she did not approve. She said so, that it had no
importance in this world that we share, she said this to me. Meanings. She said of meanings, no meanings. What are meanings? Who can say what meanings may be. This and that, both have meanings, are
meanings, I do not know but that she spoke of these. I did not listen too closely, angry by her, what choice as though that I had, I had none, we had none. Yes angry but not as at her but as
childishly, she acted such, this reasoning was childish, and said so to her, I did so say it to her and also how that it was necessary. It is necessary work that we do. I said to her, Nothing is
wrong in it. How do we value it, if in this meaning is to lie, if as you say meanings, what meanings are in this world, this world is not in common, you think our world is in common? That is
childish.