The Country from Hell
"Mom, I'll be right with you," you call from the bedroom. In a moment, you will have to go to her, lift her off the floor, place her on the bed, take away her pills. She'll tell you yet again, as though she hasn't told you a hundred times before, about how promising and pretty she once was. You could recite her whole auto-biography in your sleep, yet each time you must let her begin again from the depths of her despair, thoroughly exhausting herself and you before you are both released into dreamless sleep. She will not be safe if you leave the house. It was only last month that she was nearly killed by that streetcar. But if she had been killed, then you'd be free to leave tonight. Why does she do this to you? It wasn't enough for her own youth to be destroyed, she now has to take yours as well? Your impotent frustration seems to push from out of every skin cell, threatening to rip you to pieces.
Blinking through the tears that you are now free to let fall in the privacy of your home, you pull out Szil's card from your ragged shoulder bag. You force open the stiff glass door leading from the bedroom to your narrow concrete balcony. Ducking under the overloaded clothesline, you place your trembling hands on the railing. The cool metal rail calms your pounding heart as your gaze is drawn towards the street.
Even Iad recognizes the universal symbol of Friday night. On the street below, a seemingly endless flow of battered automobiles streams by your block. Their red taillights join together to form a single illuminated arrow pointing in the direction of that other universal concept: fun. A Minti pulls up onto the sidewalk in front of your building. You can feel the bass line of a song blasting from the speakers, pushing its way through the many feet of concrete to reach you. You recognize the song instantly as the summer's big hit. For the last few weeks, it has been omnipresent, pouring out of cafes, playing on televisions everywhere, rushing by in fast cars. You had heard this song so many times that it had finally begun to wear on you. But now, in the unexpected balminess of this summer night, it seems to call to you. That boy in the car could have been Szil. He could have been waiting for you, not for the other girl who is at this very moment dabbing on the final touches of her makeup before dashing out the door to claim her piece of fun. You look down at the cement floor so you don't have to see her stealing away into the darkness. You open your eyes again only when the driving beat has faded down the busy road. In the block opposite yours, you see many windows brightly lit. One is full to the brim with moving shadows that seem to sway back and forth as though adrift on a gentle wave. The reflections flicker in and out of sight, in and out of existence. Ephemeral and lovely, you know that tomorrow will bring them back to the same hard gray world in which you are currently standing alone. But tonight, tonight is inviolably theirs.
Smiling once more at the unpronounceable name on the card, you tear at it until it sits in a dozen crumpled shreds in your hand. You breathe in deeply. Opening your hand, you let the warm breeze lift the little pieces into the air. Having given up your sacrificial offering to Friday Night, you turn quickly back inside. You don't look back, but turn off the bedroom light behind you as though you had never been there.
Blinking through the tears that you are now free to let fall in the privacy of your home, you pull out Szil's card from your ragged shoulder bag. You force open the stiff glass door leading from the bedroom to your narrow concrete balcony. Ducking under the overloaded clothesline, you place your trembling hands on the railing. The cool metal rail calms your pounding heart as your gaze is drawn towards the street.
Even Iad recognizes the universal symbol of Friday night. On the street below, a seemingly endless flow of battered automobiles streams by your block. Their red taillights join together to form a single illuminated arrow pointing in the direction of that other universal concept: fun. A Minti pulls up onto the sidewalk in front of your building. You can feel the bass line of a song blasting from the speakers, pushing its way through the many feet of concrete to reach you. You recognize the song instantly as the summer's big hit. For the last few weeks, it has been omnipresent, pouring out of cafes, playing on televisions everywhere, rushing by in fast cars. You had heard this song so many times that it had finally begun to wear on you. But now, in the unexpected balminess of this summer night, it seems to call to you. That boy in the car could have been Szil. He could have been waiting for you, not for the other girl who is at this very moment dabbing on the final touches of her makeup before dashing out the door to claim her piece of fun. You look down at the cement floor so you don't have to see her stealing away into the darkness. You open your eyes again only when the driving beat has faded down the busy road. In the block opposite yours, you see many windows brightly lit. One is full to the brim with moving shadows that seem to sway back and forth as though adrift on a gentle wave. The reflections flicker in and out of sight, in and out of existence. Ephemeral and lovely, you know that tomorrow will bring them back to the same hard gray world in which you are currently standing alone. But tonight, tonight is inviolably theirs.
Smiling once more at the unpronounceable name on the card, you tear at it until it sits in a dozen crumpled shreds in your hand. You breathe in deeply. Opening your hand, you let the warm breeze lift the little pieces into the air. Having given up your sacrificial offering to Friday Night, you turn quickly back inside. You don't look back, but turn off the bedroom light behind you as though you had never been there.
