24

As time went by, winter was making its presence more and more felt, and people’s faces betrayed a heightened sense of expectation every time they encountered Kosef J. It would have been fair to say that as the days got shorter and shorter, as well as colder and colder, people had become needier and needier. Fabius had long come to terms with repeatedly losing at dice, and every time Kosef J rolled the dice, he’d break out in cries of wonder. It seemed obvious that both guards were quite happy when they lost.

Dice games would take place mainly in Rozette’s kitchen after dinner. Almost every time Franz Hoss would produce some greenish liquor, and they’d take turns sipping it from the bottle. Rozette would often make an appearance, too, and watch them while standing behind them for hours.

‘Impossible! Impossible!’ Franz Hoss would warm up after the first round, taking a sip from the bottle. He’d then turn to Rozette and ask: ‘Did you see this? Did you?’ In case the short, stocky and cheerful man was present, he’d turn to him, too and ask: ‘What do you make of this? Well?’ And in case the child was also there, he’d paternally place a hand on his head and tousle his hair: ‘Well, what do you think, ey?’

The kid would shake his head disgruntled, since nothing annoyed him more than having his hair tousled.

‘Fantastic, fantastic!’ Fabius would say, leaning back in his chair in order to take a better look at Kosef J.

Each time the mood would heighten gradually, cigarette smoke gently shrouding them, alcohol taking its effect and making them feel better, Rozette letting out the odd giggle, and the short, stocky and cheerful man embarking on yet another amusing story. And yet, Kosef J would occasionally hear random phrases whispered in his ear that had no connection whatsoever with the chatter taking place around him.

In the most unlikely moments, someone would slip in the odd question, such as ‘And tomorrow? As before?’ or, in an even more ambivalent tone, ‘Have you thought of what’s next?’

Only very rarely did he manage to identify who exactly had spoken. At times everyone would be leaning over the table to count the dots on the dice, and suddenly someone would say, ‘I trust that you won’t forget about me.’ Or while everyone was roaring with laughter at one of Franz Hoss’s stupid jokes, somebody would slip in a comment like ‘Still, you should pay heed.’ Obviously, there would be no specification as to what exactly he should be paying heed to.

Every so often he’d manage to catch the person who had just spoken in the act, and when finding the right moment he’d hasten to re-open the conversation.

‘What did you mean by . . . ,’ he’d begin, at which point the person in question would start fidgeting and immediately change topic. Or, akin to the old man in town, they’d simply decamp.

So he soon gave up these attempts to find out who’d address him and to understand what exactly their words would mean. He’d simply stick to memorizing the words, sentences and phrases that bombarded him.

‘Don’t forget what I said,’ he could hear in his right ear as Rozette was collecting the dirty dishes.

‘You’ll be on your own there, so do pay attention, people can be mean,’ he kept hearing in his right ear while the short, stocky and cheerful man was in the middle of explaining how he had managed to save two storeroomful of clothes all thanks to Kosef J.

‘It’s very important to look him in the eye,’ someone whispered in his neck as he was about to roll the dice.

‘Now it’s time for you to decide,’ he heard from somewhere above his left shoulder, as he was taking a sip of the greenish and bitter liquid.

‘You are the only truly free person,’ a voice whispered through the air.

‘You are still very young,’ another voice whispered above his right shoulder.

‘The very first day is the really important one,’ a voice muttered from among the dirty dishes.

‘After all, this is something you are entitled to,’ he could again hear the voice in the air.

‘We are aware,’ someone mumbled, from beyond those gathered around him.

‘Would you like another sip?’ Franz Hoss asked and he could immediately hear a voice saying: ‘Make sure to tell us about everything you see.’

‘Some more soup?’ Rozette asked and straightaway he heard the voice: ‘You are the only person who can do this.’

‘Another beer?’ Mr Bruno asked, followed by the voice: ‘Remember, secrecy above all.’

‘Another round?’ the nameless publican asked, whispering in a feverish voice: ‘The main thing is to keep your mouth shut.’

‘Would you happen to have a lighter?’ old Adam asked, the voice following on: ‘The day is approaching . . . ’

The voices would at times cut across one another and overlap in his ear, tangling and wriggling about as if they were some invisible and highly irritable creatures. At times he was simply assaulted by them, he couldn’t keep track as to where they were coming from, not to mention that he couldn’t make any sense of it all. The voices had become extremely edgy and would only utter completely random words, mainly odd and disparate ones at that.

‘Exactly,’ a voice noted.

‘Peace and quiet indeed,’ a second voice commented.

‘Now,’ a third voice said.

‘Well?’ a fourth voice asked.

‘Deadly,’ a fifth voice added. ‘Mortal.’

‘Six,’ the sixth voice said.

‘So?’ the seventh voice wondered.

‘Oh,’ the eighth voice mused.

‘Enough!’ Kosef J screamed in his thoughts, trying to move away from the others a bit, so he could spend at least an hour on his own.

The voices had suddenly died down the day Franz Hoss asked Kosef J to go to town on his own in order to pick up bread.

‘I have an unbearable pain in my loins,’ the guard complained with the look of an old and ill man.

Kosef J had no idea how he could turn him down, although the thought of making his appearance in town all alone didn’t appeal to him.

‘What would my mother say?’ he wondered.

He tried to shoo away the thought by speeding his journey up. He didn’t go to the beerhouse and didn’t even stop in front of his house to say hello to his mother. He helped the man at the bread factory to load the bread into the cart as fast as possible. He was simply afraid to look left or right, and only once back at the prison did he sigh with relief.

‘Thank you,’ Franz Hoss said upon his return, looking at him as if he were a faithful dog.

Kosef J wanted to respond, in fact he would have wanted to say that he’d rather not do this journey again on his own, but the found himself interrupted by the sound of the kid’s voice.

‘Come,’ the child said, so Kosef J smiled at Franz Hoss and followed the kid out.

The child seemed rather agitated, so Kosef J didn’t dare to ask him anything.

The fugitive with the cheerful face also seemed restless.

‘The committee would like to see you,’ the man with the cheerful face said, but Kosef J didn’t respond. He followed the man through the interior courtyards he was so familiar with, and then through the rubbish heaps which had turned into some sort of intimate geography. He arrived at a place he would have never expected, a place that looked like an abandoned railway station. He was able to make out several rail tracks under the anthills and bushes. The carcass of a disused water tower also appeared on the horizon. The very moment they had crossed the first rail track the man with a cheerful face couldn’t refrain from pausing for a second and said to Kosef J: ‘You have now entered the free world.’