A Death: Notes of a Suicide by Zalman Shneour

Author:Zalman Shneour
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wakefield Press
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

THE 22ND OF TISHRE

It appears I drank a little too much beer the other night, spilling out my guts and saying too much. Who was I speaking to? To Mirkin. Why was I speaking? Just like that, for no reason. Disgusting, disgusting.

I console myself with the fact that at least I didn’t let anything slip about my revolver, or the box of bullets … No one must know about it, no one; mum’s the word!

I can’t contemplate the other night without shame. I’d felt the need for human sympathy, for pity—as I was lecturing Mirkin I noticed him preparing to take pity on me; he was almost there, but his sympathy fell away, and he showered me in rotten words.

If I hadn’t spoken so much he would certainly have stood up, placed a warm hand on my shoulder, and consoled me, calmed me, pouring weak, clichéd, Mirkinesque consolation over me from his satisfied cherry lips, like the few pennies you’d throw to a beggar from a stuffed purse, like the moldy piece of bread a baker gives to a hungry man, but I could not tolerate such pity. Get out of my room, once and for all, get out! I’d said. And now my Mirkin is gone.

I no longer feel the dismal self-resentment I experienced just after kicking Mirkin out. I was merely protecting what was dear to me, guarding my death wish. I chased him away because he’s a threat. He’s a threat to me now, with his beer and his dancing and his gang of playboys and the charming girls he introduces to his acquaintances every chance he gets … Henia is one of his, after all, or used to be at any rate. He’s dangerous. I’ve distanced myself from a danger. I’m left feeling like I’ve snuck up on a would-be attacker to get them before they get me.

But here’s the thing: only one acquaintance remains, the most dangerous of all: Henia. Dear Henia—no one realizes just how dangerous she is! I have to be rid of her, just like Mirkin. If she came in here now, I’d command her to leave! But she won’t come. A black cat has walked between us. It’s been a month since I last saw her. I haven’t visited since the wedding. She assumes I’m angry. I could go to her now and do something so abominable that she’ll be left with no choice but to cast me out herself.

I have to end things with Henia tonight. Then I’ll be free. Free with my will, free with my revolver. As a free man I’ll set off to the whorehouse.

But how will I end things with her? What will I say to her? My hands are shaking.

It’s a difficult operation, but I will go.

♦

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