A Sensitive Person by Jachym Topol

Author:Jachym Topol
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yale University Press
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

19

REUNION WITH SCALES THE FISHERMAN. HER FADING FACE. AT HOME WITH SCALES. WASHED-UP STUFF. LOVE IN THE SHACK. THE COLONISTS’ REVENGE. INTO THE BOAT. AND IN THE FLOW.

And that someone bending the grass is hastening toward them.

The boy tugs on Papa’s leg.

Hey there, ladies!

From up close he’s more stocky, a square-built man, smelling of aqueous ozone laced with the scent of rot. Black hair curls from under the hood of his rain slicker. He clutches his fishing rod like a gleaming sword.

But suddenly he wavers. Takes a closer look at them, bursts out laughing.

Papa rubs his eyes.

Stares a brief moment.

Hello, Slavoj, he says.

Tab. Well fuckin A, Tabby! What’re you doin here?

What about you?

Look, get yourselves together, we’re gettin outta here, the fisherman orders them, still grinning as he scours them with his eyes. I’m talkin now, yeah?

So they stand, Papa scooping up the younger boy, sleepy little head bobbing on his father’s shoulder. Birds chirp nervously as they make their way down the slope. A blanket of mosquitoes descends out of nowhere, clogging their pores. They can’t even close their eyes without wiping away a bloody shred.

The fisherman leads the way. Papa stumbles along right behind, and trudging in the rear is the boy, water clasping his ankles with every touch of his foot to the ground. As he scrambles to keep up with the men, the young puck’s tears, both caked-on and presently gushing, combine with the grease from the grill shack on his face to form a much-needed antimosquito mask.

He wants to call her forth within himself and bring her to life. Her face. He could scrawl her name in the mud with his finger. He remembers his mother’s scent. Then forgets it so quickly he’s almost amazed. He is absorbed in everything going on. Looking out for sharp branches. For stones beneath the soggy moss. Her image within him dims with every step, with every nearly obscene slurp as his sandals sink into the footprints of the men ahead of him.

The man in the slicker patters along at a brisk pace. Papa clomps along elephant-style. As the humans squish across the vivifying floor, a vibration of the subtlest frequencies seeps up toward them out of the algae, visible only under a microscope, multiplying in numbers quantifiable only by astronomy. Myriads of tiny shells move in copulatory bliss amid the tracks left behind in the soddening moss. Intoxicated springtails and whole armies of stone flies, bacchanalian revelers of the aquatic realm, frolic in the splashings. Creatures that live hours, days, only to serve as sanctuaries for larvae, planktonic organisms, and enormous water bugs, mandibled warriors, water-striding boyars of the insect kingdom. The humans make their way through this kingdom with great self-assurance. Yet it seems the orator in Papa has perished entirely under the onslaught of all the stinging and sucking and biting.

Now, nothing but sonuvabitch, piece of shit, and cunt spews from his mouth as he strains to exhale the insect bodies crushed in his teeth.

Every few

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.