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Chapter I I have just returned from a visit to my landlord the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist’s heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name. ‘Mr. Heathcliff?’ I said. A nod was the answer. ‘Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts ‘ ‘Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,’ he interrupted, wincing. ‘I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it walk in!’ The ‘walk in’ was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the sentiment, ‘Go to the Deuce:’ even the gate over which he leant manifested no sympathising movement to the words; and I think that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself. When he saw my horse’s breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded me up the causeway, calling, as we entered the court, ‘Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood’s horse; and bring up some wine.’ ‘Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose,’ was the reflection suggested by this compound order. ‘No wonder the grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedgecutters.’ Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old, perhaps, though hale and sinewy. ‘The Lord help us!’ he soliloquised in an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent. Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff’s dwelling. ‘Wuthering’ being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones. Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date ‘1500,’ and the name ‘Hareton Earnshaw.’ I would have made a few comments, and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting the penetralium. One stop brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here ‘the house’ preeminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been under-drawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villainous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three gaudily-painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade. In an arch under the dresser reposed a huge, liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses. The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn countenance, and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in kneebreeches and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his arm-chair, his mug of ale frothing on the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of five or six miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after dinner. But Mr. Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He is a darkskinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose. Possibly, some people might suspect him of a degree of under-bred pride; I have a sympathetic chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort: I know, by instinct, his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of feeling to manifestations of mutual kindliness. He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved or hated again. No, I’m running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes over-liberally on him. Mr. Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar reasons for keeping his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be acquaintance, to those which actuate me. Let me hope my constitution is almost peculiar: my dear mother used to say I should never have a comfortable home; and only last summer I proved myself perfectly unworthy of one. While enjoying a month of fine weather at the sea-coast, I was thrown into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real goddess in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I ‘never told my love’ vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed I was over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return the sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it with shame shrunk icily into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake, persuaded her mamma to decamp. By this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate. I took a seat at the end of the hearthstone opposite that towards which my landlord advanced, and filled up an interval of silence by attempting to caress the canine mother, who had left her nursery, and was sneaking wolfishly to the back of my legs, her lip curled up, and her white teeth watering for a snatch. My caress provoked a long, guttural gnarl. ‘You’d better let the dog alone,’ growled Mr. Heathcliff in unison, checking fiercer demonstrations with a punch of his foot. ‘She’s not accustomed to be spoiled not kept for a pet.’ Then, striding to a side door, he shouted again, ‘Joseph!’ Joseph mumbled indistinctly in the depths of the cellar, but gave no intimation of ascending; so his master dived down to him, leaving me VIS-A-VIS the ruffianly bitch and a pair of grim shaggy sheep-dogs, who shared with her a jealous guardianship over all my movements. Not anxious to come in contact with their fangs, I sat still; but, imagining they would scarcely understand tacit insults, I unfortunately indulged in winking and making faces at the trio, and some turn of my physiognomy so irritated madam, that she suddenly broke into a fury and leapt on my knees. I flung her back, and hastened to interpose the table between us. This proceeding aroused the whole hive: half-a-dozen four-footed fiends, of various sizes and ages, issued from hidden dens to the common centre. I felt my heels and coat-laps peculiar subjects of assault; and parrying off the larger combatants as effectually as I could with the poker, I was constrained to demand, aloud, assistance from some of the household in re-establishing peace. Mr. Heathcliff and his man climbed the cellar steps with vexatious phlegm: I don’t think they moved one second faster than usual, though the hearth was an absolute tempest of worrying and yelping. Happily, an inhabitant of the kitchen made more despatch: a lusty dame, with tucked-up gown, bare arms, and fire-flushed cheeks, rushed into the midst of us flourishing a frying-pan: and used that weapon, and her tongue, to such purpose, that the storm subsided magically, and she only remained, heaving like a sea after a high wind, when her master entered on the scene. ‘What the devil is the matter?’ he asked, eyeing me in a manner that I could ill endure, after this inhospitable treatment. ‘What the devil, indeed!’ I muttered. ‘The herd of possessed swine could have had no worse spirits in them than those animals of yours, sir. You might as well leave a stranger with a brood of tigers!’ ‘They won’t meddle with persons who touch nothing,’ he remarked, putting the bottle before me, and restoring the displaced table. ‘The dogs do right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine?’ ‘No, thank you.’ ‘Not bitten, are you?’ ‘If I had been, I would have set my signet on the biter.’ Heathcliff’s countenance relaxed into a grin. ‘Come, come,’ he said, ‘you are flurried, Mr. Lockwood. Here, take a little wine. Guests are so exceedingly rare in this house that I and my dogs, I am willing to own, hardly know how to receive them. Your health, sir?’ I bowed and returned the pledge; beginning to perceive that it would be foolish to sit sulking for the misbehaviour of a pack of curs; besides, I felt loth to yield the fellow further amusement at my expense; since his humour took that turn. He probably swayed by prudential consideration of the folly of offending a good tenant relaxed a little in the laconic style of chipping off his pronouns and auxiliary verbs, and introduced what he supposed would be a subject of interest to me, a discourse on the advantages and disadvantages of my present place of retirement. I found him very intelligent on the topics we touched; and before I went home, I was encouraged so far as to volunteer another visit to-morrow. He evidently wished no repetition of my intrusion. I shall go, notwithstanding. It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him. Chapter II YESTERDAY afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend it by my study fire, instead of wading through heath and mud to Wuthering Heights. On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B. I dine between twelve and one o’clock; the housekeeper, a matronly lady, taken as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend my request that I might be served at five) on mounting the stairs with this lazy intention, and stepping into the room, I saw a servant-girl on her knees surrounded by brushes and coal-scuttles, and raising an infernal dust as she extinguished the flames with heaps of cinders. This spectacle drove me back immediately; I took my hat, and, after a four-miles’ walk, arrived at Heathcliff’s garden-gate just in time to escape the first feathery flakes of a snow-shower. On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. Being unable to remove the chain, I jumped over, and, running up the flagged causeway bordered with straggling gooseberry-bushes, knocked vainly for admittance, till my knuckles tingled and the dogs howled. ‘Wretched inmates!’ I ejaculated, mentally, ‘you deserve perpetual isolation from your species for your churlish inhospitality. At least, I would not keep my doors barred in the day-time. I don’t care I will get in!’ So resolved, I grasped the latch and shook it vehemently. Vinegar-faced Joseph projected his head from a round window of the barn. ‘What are ye for?’ he shouted. ‘T’ maister’s down i’ t’ fowld. Go round by th’ end o’ t’ laith, if ye went to spake to him.’ ‘Is there nobody inside to open the door?’ I hallooed, responsively. ‘There’s nobbut t’ missis; and shoo’ll not oppen ‘t an ye mak’ yer flaysome dins till neeght.’ ‘Why? Cannot you tell her whom I am, eh, Joseph?’ ‘Nor-ne me! I’ll hae no hend wi’t,’ muttered the head, vanishing. The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cot, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful apartment where I was formerly received. It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the ‘missis,’ an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected. I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me take a seat. She looked at me, leaning back in her chair, and remained motionless and mute. ‘Rough weather!’ I remarked. ‘I’m afraid, Mrs. Heathcliff, the door must bear the consequence of your servants’ leisure attendance: I had hard work to make them hear me.’ She never opened her mouth. I stared she stared also: at any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable. ‘Sit down,’ said the young man, gruffly. ‘He’ll be in soon.’ I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance. ‘A beautiful animal!’ I commenced again. ‘Do you intend parting with the little ones, madam?’ ‘They are not mine,’ said the amiable hostess, more repellingly than Heathcliff himself could have replied. ‘Ah, your favourites are among these?’ I continued, turning to an obscure cushion full of something like cats. ‘A strange choice of favourites!’ she observed scornfully. Unluckily, it was a heap of dead rabbits. I hemmed once more, and drew closer to the hearth, repeating my comment on the wildness of the evening. ‘You should not have come out,’ she said, rising and reaching from the chimney-piece two of the painted canisters. Her position before was sheltered from the light; now, I had a distinct view of her whole figure and countenance. She was slender, and apparently scarcely past girlhood: an admirable form, and the most exquisite little face that I have ever had the pleasure of beholding; small features, very fair; flaxen ringlets, or rather golden, hanging loose on her delicate neck; and eyes, had they been agreeable in expression, that would have been irresistible: fortunately for my susceptible heart, the only sentiment they evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of desperation, singularly unnatural to be detected there. The canisters were almost out of her reach; I made a motion to aid her; she turned upon me as a miser might turn if any one attempted to assist him in counting his gold. ‘I don’t want your help,’ she snapped; ‘I can get them for myself.’ ‘I beg your pardon!’ I hastened to reply. ‘Were you asked to tea?’ she demanded, tying an apron over her neat black frock, and standing with a spoonful of the leaf poised over the pot. ‘I shall be glad to have a cup,’ I answered. ‘Were you asked?’ she repeated. ‘No,’ I said, half smiling. ‘You are the proper person to ask me.’ She flung the tea back, spoon and all, and resumed her chair in a pet; her forehead corrugated, and her red under-lip pushed out, like a child’s ready to cry. Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person a decidedly shabby upper garment, and, erecting himself before the blaze, looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as if there were some mortal feud unavenged between us. I began to doubt whether he were a servant or not: his dress and speech were both rude, entirely devoid of the superiority observable in Mr. and Mrs. Heathcliff; his thick brown curls were rough and uncultivated, his whiskers encroached bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands were embrowned like those of a common labourer: still his bearing was free, almost haughty, and he showed none of a domestic’s assiduity in attending on the lady of the house. In the absence of clear proofs of his condition, I deemed it best to abstain from noticing his curious conduct; and, five minutes afterwards, the entrance of Heathcliff relieved me, in some measure, from my uncomfortable state. ‘You see, sir, I am come, according to promise!’ I exclaimed, assuming the cheerful; ‘and I fear I shall be weather-bound for half an hour, if you can afford me shelter during that space.’ ‘Half an hour?’ he said, shaking the white flakes from his clothes; ‘I wonder you should select the thick of a snow-storm to ramble about in. Do you know that you run a risk of being lost in the marshes? People familiar with these moors often miss their road on such evenings; and I can tell you there is no chance of a change at present.’ ‘Perhaps I can get a guide among your lads, and he might stay at the Grange till morning could you spare me one?’ ‘No, I could not.’ ‘Oh, indeed! Well, then, I must trust to my own sagacity.’ ‘Umph!’ ‘Are you going to mak’ the tea?’ demanded he of the shabby coat, shifting his ferocious gaze from me to the young lady. ‘Is HE to have any?’ she asked, appealing to Heathcliff. ‘Get it ready, will you?’ was the answer, uttered so savagely that I started. The tone in which the words were said revealed a genuine bad nature. I no longer felt inclined to call Heathcliff a capital fellow. When the preparations were finished, he invited me with ‘Now, sir, bring forward your chair.’ And we all, including the rustic youth, drew round the table: an austere silence prevailing while we discussed our meal. I thought, if I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it. They could not every day sit so grim and taciturn; and it was impossible, however ill-tempered they might be, that the universal scowl they wore was their every-day countenance. ‘It is strange,’ I began, in the interval of swallowing one cup of tea and receiving another ‘it is strange how custom can mould our tastes and ideas: many could not imagine the existence of happiness in a life of such complete exile from the world as you spend, Mr. Heathcliff; yet, I’ll venture to say, that, surrounded by your family, and with your amiable lady as the presiding genius over your home and heart ‘ ‘My amiable lady!’ he interrupted, with an almost diabolical sneer on his face. ‘Where is she my amiable lady?’ ‘Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean.’ ‘Well, yes oh, you would intimate that her spirit has taken the post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering Heights, even when her body is gone. Is that it?’ Perceiving myself in a blunder, I attempted to correct it. I might have seen there was too great a disparity between the ages of the parties to make it likely that they were man and wife. One was about forty: a period of mental vigour at which men seldom cherish the delusion of being married for love by girls: that dream is reserved for the solace of our declining years. The other did not look seventeen. Then it flashed on me ‘The clown at my elbow, who is drinking his tea out of a basin and eating his broad with unwashed hands, may be her husband: Heathcliff junior, of course. Here is the consequence of being buried alive: she has thrown herself away upon that boor from sheer ignorance that better individuals existed! A sad pity I must beware how I cause her to regret her choice.’ The last reflection may seem conceited; it was not. My neighbour struck me as bordering on repulsive; I knew, through experience, that I was tolerably attractive. ‘Mrs. Heathcliff is my daughter-in-law,’ said Heathcliff, corroborating my surmise. He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction: a look of hatred; unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul. ‘Ah, certainly I see now: you are the favoured possessor of the beneficent fairy,’ I remarked, turning to my neighbour. This was worse than before: the youth grew crimson, and clenched his fist, with every appearance of a meditated assault. But he seemed to recollect himself presently, and smothered the storm in a brutal curse, muttered on my behalf: which, however, I took care not to notice. ‘Unhappy in your conjectures, sir,’ observed my host; ‘we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy; her mate is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law: therefore, she must have married my son.’ ‘And this young man is ‘ ‘Not my son, assuredly.’ Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too bold a jest to attribute the paternity of that bear to him. ‘My name is Hareton Earnshaw,’ growled the other; ‘and I’d counsel you to respect it!’ ‘I’ve shown no disrespect,’ was my reply, laughing internally at the dignity with which he announced himself. He fixed his eye on me longer than I cared to return the stare, for fear I might be tempted either to box his ears or render my hilarity audible. I began to feel unmistakably out of place in that pleasant family circle. The dismal spiritual atmosphere overcame, and more than neutralised, the glowing physical comforts round me; and I resolved to be cautious how I ventured under those rafters a third time. The business of eating being concluded, and no one uttering a word of sociable conversation, I approached a window to examine the weather. A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow. ‘I don’t think it possible for me to get home now without a guide,’ I could not help exclaiming. ‘The roads will be buried already; and, if they were bare, I could scarcely distinguish a foot in advance.’ ‘Hareton, drive those dozen sheep into the barn porch. They’ll be covered if left in the fold all night: and put a plank before them,’ said Heathcliff. ‘How must I do?’ I continued, with rising irritation. There was no reply to my question; and on looking round I saw only Joseph bringing in a pail of porridge for the dogs, and Mrs. Heathcliff leaning over the fire, diverting herself with burning a bundle of matches which had fallen from the chimney-piece as she restored the tea-canister to its place. The former, when he had deposited his burden, took a critical survey of the room, and in cracked tones grated out ‘Aw wonder how yah can faishion to stand thear i’ idleness un war, when all on ‘ems goan out! Bud yah’re a nowt, and it’s no use talking yah’ll niver mend o’yer ill ways, but goa raight to t’ divil, like yer mother afore ye!’ I imagined, for a moment, that this piece of eloquence was addressed to me; and, sufficiently enraged, stepped towards the aged rascal with an intention of kicking him out of the door. Mrs. Heathcliff, however, checked me by her answer. ‘You scandalous old hypocrite!’ she replied. ‘Are you not afraid of being carried away bodily, whenever you mention the devil’s name? I warn you to refrain from provoking me, or I’ll ask your abduction as a special favour! Stop! look here, Joseph,’ she continued, taking a long, dark book from a shelf; ‘I’ll show you how far I’ve progressed in the Black Art: I shall soon be competent to make a clear house of it. The red cow didn’t die by chance; and your rheumatism can hardly be reckoned among providential visitations!’ ‘Oh, wicked, wicked!’ gasped the elder; ‘may the Lord deliver us from evil!’ ‘No, reprobate! you are a castaway be off, or I’ll hurt you seriously! I’ll have you all modelled in wax and clay! and the first who passes the limits I fix shall I’ll not say what he shall be done to but, you’ll see! Go, I’m looking at you!’ The little witch put a mock malignity into her beautiful eyes, and Joseph, trembling with sincere horror, hurried out, praying, and ejaculating ‘wicked’ as he went. I thought her conduct must be prompted by a species of dreary fun; and, now that we were alone, I endeavoured to interest her in my distress. ‘Mrs. Heathcliff,’ I said earnestly, ‘you must excuse me for troubling you. I presume, because, with that face, I’m sure you cannot help being good-hearted. Do point out some landmarks by which I may know my way home: I have no more idea how to get there than you would have how to get to London!’ ‘Take the road you came,’ she answered, ensconcing herself in a chair, with a candle, and the long book open before her. ‘It is brief advice, but as sound as I can give.’ ‘Then, if you hear of me being discovered dead in a bog or a pit full of snow, your conscience won’t whisper that it is partly your fault?’ ‘How so? I cannot escort you. They wouldn’t let me go to the end of the garden wall.’ ‘YOU! I should be sorry to ask you to cross the threshold, for my convenience, on such a night,’ I cried. ‘I want you to tell me my way, not to SHOW it: or else to persuade Mr. Heathcliff to give me a guide.’ ‘Who? There is himself, Earnshaw, Zillah, Joseph and I. Which would you have?’ ‘Are there no boys at the farm?’ ‘No; those are all.’ ‘Then, it follows that I am compelled to stay.’ ‘That you may settle with your host. I have nothing to do with it.’ ‘I hope it will be a lesson to you to make no more rash journeys on these hills,’ cried Heathcliff’s stern voice from the kitchen entrance. ‘As to staying here, I don’t keep accommodations for visitors: you must share a bed with Hareton or Joseph, if you do.’ ‘I can sleep on a chair in this room,’ I replied. ‘No, no! A stranger is a stranger, be he rich or poor: it will not suit me to permit any one the range of the place while I am off guard!’ said the unmannerly wretch. With this insult my patience was at an end. I uttered an expression of disgust, and pushed past him into the yard, running against Earnshaw in my haste. It was so dark that I could not see the means of exit; and, as I wandered round, I heard another specimen of their civil behaviour amongst each other. At first the young man appeared about to befriend me. ‘I’ll go with him as far as the park,’ he said. ‘You’ll go with him to hell!’ exclaimed his master, or whatever relation he bore. ‘And who is to look after the horses, eh?’ ‘A man’s life is of more consequence than one evening’s neglect of the horses: somebody must go,’ murmured Mrs. Heathcliff, more kindly than I expected. ‘Not at your command!’ retorted Hareton. ‘If you set store on him, you’d better be quiet.’ ‘Then I hope his ghost will haunt you; and I hope Mr. Heathcliff will never get another tenant till the Grange is a ruin,’ she answered, sharply. ‘Hearken, hearken, shoo’s cursing on ‘em!’ muttered Joseph, towards whom I had been steering. He sat within earshot, milking the cows by the light of a lantern, which I seized unceremoniously, and, calling out that I would send it back on the morrow, rushed to the nearest postern. ‘Maister, maister, he’s staling t’ lanthern!’ shouted the ancient, pursuing my retreat. ‘Hey, Gnasher! Hey, dog! Hey Wolf, holld him, holld him!’ On opening the little door, two hairy monsters flew at my throat, bearing me down, and extinguishing the light; while a mingled guffaw from Heathcliff and Hareton put the copestone on my rage and humiliation. Fortunately, the beasts seemed more bent on stretching their paws, and yawning, and flourishing their tails, than devouring me alive; but they would suffer no resurrection, and I was forced to lie till their malignant masters pleased to deliver me: then, hatless and trembling with wrath, I ordered the miscreants to let me out on their peril to keep me one minute longer with several incoherent threats of retaliation that, in their indefinite depth of virulency, smacked of King Lear. The vehemence of my agitation brought on a copious bleeding at the nose, and still Heathcliff laughed, and still I scolded. I don’t know what would have concluded the scene, had there not been one person at hand rather more rational than myself, and more benevolent than my entertainer. This was Zillah, the stout housewife; who at length issued forth to inquire into the nature of the uproar. She thought that some of them had been laying violent hands on me; and, not daring to attack her master, she turned her vocal artillery against the younger scoundrel. ‘Well, Mr. Earnshaw,’ she cried, ‘I wonder what you’ll have agait next? Are we going to murder folk on our very door-stones? I see this house will never do for me look at t’ poor lad, he’s fair choking! Wisht, wisht; you mun’n’t go on so. Come in, and I’ll cure that: there now, hold ye still.’ With these words she suddenly splashed a pint of icy water down my neck, and pulled me into the kitchen. Mr. Heathcliff followed, his accidental merriment expiring quickly in his habitual moroseness. I was sick exceedingly, and dizzy, and faint; and thus compelled perforce to accept lodgings under his roof. He told Zillah to give me a glass of brandy, and then passed on to the inner room; while she condoled with me on my sorry predicament, and having obeyed his orders, whereby I was somewhat revived, ushered me to bed. Chapter III WHILE leading the way upstairs, she recommended that I should hide the candle, and not make a noise; for her master had an odd notion about the chamber she would put me in, and never let anybody lodge there willingly. I asked the reason. She did not know, she answered: she had only lived there a year or two; and they had so many queer goings on, she could not begin to be curious. Too stupefied to be curious myself, I fastened my door and glanced round for the bed. The whole furniture consisted of a chair, a clothes-press, and a large oak case, with squares cut out near the top resembling coach windows. Having approached this structure, I looked inside, and perceived it to be a singular sort of oldfashioned couch, very conveniently designed to obviate the necessity for every member of the family having a room to himself. In fact, it formed a little closet, and the ledge of a window, which it enclosed, served as a table. I slid back the panelled sides, got in with my light, pulled them together again, and felt secure against the vigilance of Heathcliff, and every one else. The ledge, where I placed my candle, had a few mildewed books piled up in one corner; and it was covered with writing scratched on the paint. This writing, however, was nothing but a name repeated in all kinds of characters, large and small CATHERINE EARNSHAW, here and there varied to CATHERINE HEATHCLIFF, and then again to CATHERINE LINTON. In vapid listlessness I leant my head against the window, and continued spelling over Catherine Earnshaw Heathcliff Linton, till my eyes closed; but they had not rested five minutes when a glare of white letters started from the dark, as vivid as spectres the air swarmed with Catherines; and rousing myself to dispel the obtrusive name, I discovered my candle-wick reclining on one of the antique volumes, and perfuming the place with an odour of roasted calf-skin. I snuffed it off, and, very ill at ease under the influence of cold and lingering nausea, sat up and spread open the injured tome on my knee. It was a Testament, in lean type, and smelling dreadfully musty: a fly-leaf bore the inscription ‘Catherine Earnshaw, her book,’ and a date some quarter of a century back. I shut it, and took up another and another, till I had examined all. Catherine’s library was select, and its state of dilapidation proved it to have been well used, though not altogether for a legitimate purpose: scarcely one chapter had escaped, a pen-and-ink commentary at least the appearance of one covering every morsel of blank that the printer had left. Some were detached sentences; other parts took the form of a regular diary, scrawled in an unformed, childish hand. At the top of an extra page (quite a treasure, probably, when first lighted on) I was greatly amused to behold an excellent caricature of my friend Joseph, rudely, yet powerfully sketched. An immediate interest kindled within me for the unknown Catherine, and I began forthwith to decipher her faded hieroglyphics. ‘An awful Sunday,’ commenced the paragraph beneath. ‘I wish my father were back again. Hindley is a detestable substitute his conduct to Heathcliff is atrocious H. and I are going to rebel we took our initiatory step this evening. ‘All day had been flooding with rain; we could not go to church, so Joseph must needs get up a congregation in the garret; and, while Hindley and his wife basked downstairs before a comfortable fire doing anything but reading their Bibles, I’ll answer for it Heathcliff, myself, and the unhappy ploughboy were commanded to take our prayer-books, and mount: we were ranged in a row, on a sack of corn, groaning and shivering, and hoping that Joseph would shiver too, so that he might give us a short homily for his own sake. A vain idea! The service lasted precisely three hours; and yet my brother had the face to exclaim, when he saw us descending, ‘What, done already?’ On Sunday evenings we used to be permitted to play, if we did not make much noise; now a mere titter is sufficient to send us into corners. ‘’You forget you have a master here,’ says the tyrant. ‘I’ll demolish the first who puts me out of temper! I insist on perfect sobriety and silence. Oh, boy! was that you? Frances darling, pull his hair as you go by: I heard him snap his fingers.’ Frances pulled his hair heartily, and then went and seated herself on her husband’s knee, and there they were, like two babies, kissing and talking nonsense by the hour foolish palaver that we should be ashamed of. We made ourselves as snug as our means allowed in the arch of the dresser. I had just fastened our pinafores together, and hung them up for a curtain, when in comes Joseph, on an errand from the stables. He tears down my handiwork, boxes my ears, and croaks: ‘’T’ maister nobbut just buried, and Sabbath not o’ered, und t’ sound o’ t’ gospel still i’ yer lugs, and ye darr be laiking! Shame on ye! sit ye down, ill childer! there’s good books eneugh if ye’ll read ‘em: sit ye down, and think o’ yer sowls!’ ‘Saying this, he compelled us so to square our positions that we might receive from the far-off fire a dull ray to show us the text of the lumber he thrust upon us. I could not bear the employment. I took my dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dogkennel, vowing I hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to the same place. Then there was a hubbub! ‘’Maister Hindley!’ shouted our chaplain. ‘ Maister, coom hither! Miss Cathy’s riven th’ back off ‘Th’ Helmet o’ Salvation,’ un’ Heathcliff’s pawsed his fit into t’ first part o’ ‘T’ Brooad Way to Destruction!’ It’s fair flaysome that ye let ‘em go on this gait. Ech! th’ owd man wad ha’ laced ‘em properly but he’s goan!’ ‘Hindley hurried up from his paradise on the hearth, and seizing one of us by the collar, and the other by the arm, hurled both into the back-kitchen; where, Joseph asseverated, ‘owd Nick would fetch us as sure as we were living: and, so comforted, we each sought a separate nook to await his advent. I reached this book, and a pot of ink from a shelf, and pushed the house-door ajar to give me light, and I have got the time on with writing for twenty minutes; but my companion is impatient, and proposes that we should appropriate the dairywoman’s cloak, and have a scamper on the moors, under its shelter. A pleasant suggestion and then, if the surly old man come in, he may believe his prophecy verified we cannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we are here.’ I suppose Catherine fulfilled her project, for the next sentence took up another subject: she waxed lachrymose. ‘How little did I dream that Hindley would ever make me cry so!’ she wrote. ‘My head aches, till I cannot keep it on the pillow; and still I can’t give over. Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond, and won’t let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says, he and I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house if we break his orders. He has been blaming our father (how dared he?) for treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right place ‘ I began to nod drowsily over the dim page: my eye wandered from manuscript to print. I saw a red ornamented title ‘Seventy Times Seven, and the First of the Seventy-First.’ A Pious Discourse delivered by the Reverend Jabez Branderham, in the Chapel of Gimmerden Sough.’ And while I was, half-consciously, worrying my brain to guess what Jabez Branderham would make of his subject, I sank back in bed, and fell asleep. Alas, for the effects of bad tea and bad temper! What else could it be that made me pass such a terrible night? I don’t remember another that I can at all compare with it since I was capable of suffering. I began to dream, almost before I ceased to be sensible of my locality. I thought it was morning; and I had set out on my way home, with Joseph for a guide. The snow lay yards deep in our road; and, as we floundered on, my companion wearied me with constant reproaches that I had not brought a pilgrim’s staff: telling me that I could never get into the house without one, and boastfully flourishing a heavy-headed cudgel, which I understood to be so denominated. For a moment I considered it absurd that I should need such a weapon to gain admittance into my own residence. Then a new idea flashed across me. I was not going there: we were journeying to hear the famous Jabez Branderham preach, from the text ‘Seventy Times Seven;’ and either Joseph, the preacher, or I had committed the ‘First of the Seventy-First,’ and were to be publicly exposed and excommunicated. We came to the chapel. I have passed it really in my walks, twice or thrice; it lies in a hollow, between two hills: an elevated hollow, near a swamp, whose peaty moisture is said to answer all the purposes of embalming on the few corpses deposited there. The roof has been kept whole hitherto; but as the clergyman’s stipend is only twenty pounds per annum, and a house with two rooms, threatening speedily to determine into one, no clergyman will undertake the duties of pastor: especially as it is currently reported that his flock would rather let him starve than increase the living by one penny from their own pockets. However, in my dream, Jabez had a full and attentive congregation; and he preached good God! what a sermon; divided into FOUR HUNDRED AND NINETY parts, each fully equal to an ordinary address from the pulpit, and each discussing a separate sin! Where he searched for them, I cannot tell. He had his private manner of interpreting the phrase, and it seemed necessary the brother should sin different sins on every occasion. They were of the most curious character: odd transgressions that I never imagined previously. Oh, how weary I grow. How I writhed, and yawned, and nodded, and revived! How I pinched and pricked myself, and rubbed my eyes, and stood up, and sat down again, and nudged Joseph to inform me if he would EVER have done. I was condemned to hear all out: finally, he reached the ‘FIRST OF THE SEVENTY-FIRST.’ At that crisis, a sudden inspiration descended on me; I was moved to rise and denounce Jabez Branderham as the sinner of the sin that no Christian need pardon. ‘Sir,’ I exclaimed, ‘sitting here within these four walls, at one stretch, I have endured and forgiven the four hundred and ninety heads of your discourse. Seventy times seven times have I plucked up my hat and been about to depart Seventy times seven times have you preposterously forced me to resume my seat. The four hundred and ninety-first is too much. Fellow-martyrs, have at him! Drag him down, and crush him to atoms, that the place which knows him may know him no more!’ ‘THOU ART THE MAN!’ cried Jabez, after a solemn pause, leaning over his cushion. ‘Seventy times seven times didst thou gapingly contort thy visage seventy times seven did I take counsel with my soul Lo, this is human weakness: this also may be absolved! The First of the Seventy-First is come. Brethren, execute upon him the judgment written. Such honour have all His saints!’ With that concluding word, the whole assembly, exalting their pilgrim’s staves, rushed round me in a body; and I, having no weapon to raise in self-defence, commenced grappling with Joseph, my nearest and most ferocious assailant, for his. In the confluence of the multitude, several clubs crossed; blows, aimed at me, fell on other sconces. Presently the whole chapel resounded with rappings and counter rappings: every man’s hand was against his neighbour; and Branderham, unwilling to remain idle, poured forth his zeal in a shower of loud taps on the boards of the pulpit, which responded so smartly that, at last, to my unspeakable relief, they woke me. And what was it that had suggested the tremendous tumult? What had played Jabez’s part in the row? Merely the branch of a fir-tree that touched my lattice as the blast wailed by, and rattled its dry cones against the panes! I listened doubtingly an instant; detected the disturber, then turned and dozed, and dreamt again: if possible, still more disagreeably than before. This time, I remembered I was lying in the oak closet, and I heard distinctly the gusty wind, and the driving of the snow; I heard, also, the fir bough repeat its teasing sound, and ascribed it to the right cause: but it annoyed me so much, that I resolved to silence it, if possible; and, I thought, I rose and endeavoured to unhasp the casement. The hook was soldered into the staple: a circumstance observed by me when awake, but forgotten. ‘I must stop it, nevertheless!’ I muttered, knocking my knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little, ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, ‘Let me in let me in!’ ‘Who are you?’ I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. ‘Catherine Linton,’ it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) ‘I’m come home: I’d lost my way on the moor!’ As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child’s face looking through the window. Terror made me cruel; and, finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes: still it wailed, ‘Let me in!’ and maintained its tenacious gripe, almost maddening me with fear. ‘How can I!’ I said at length. ‘Let ME go, if you want me to let you in!’ The fingers relaxed, I snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramid against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer. I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, the instant I listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on! ‘Begone!’ I shouted. ‘I’ll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years.’ ‘It is twenty years,’ mourned the voice: ‘twenty years. I’ve been a waif for twenty years!’ Thereat began a feeble scratching outside, and the pile of books moved as if thrust forward. I tried to jump up; but could not stir a limb; and so yelled aloud, in a frenzy of fright. To my confusion, I discovered the yell was not ideal: hasty footsteps approached my chamber door; somebody pushed it open, with a vigorous hand, and a light glimmered through the squares at the top of the bed. I sat shuddering yet, and wiping the perspiration from my forehead: the intruder appeared to hesitate, and muttered to himself. At last, he said, in a half-whisper, plainly not expecting an answer, ‘Is any one here?’ I considered it best to confess my presence; for I knew Heathcliff’s accents, and feared he might search further, if I kept quiet. With this intention, I turned and opened the panels. I shall not soon forget the effect my action produced. Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt and trousers; with a candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as white as the wall behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like an electric shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance of some feet, and his agitation was so extreme, that he could hardly pick it up. ‘It is only your guest, sir,’ I called out, desirous to spare him the humiliation of exposing his cowardice further. ‘I had the misfortune to scream in my sleep, owing to a frightful nightmare. I’m sorry I disturbed you.’ ‘Oh, God confound you, Mr. Lockwood! I wish you were at the ‘ commenced my host, setting the candle on a chair, because he found it impossible to hold it steady. ‘And who showed you up into this room?’ he continued, crushing his nails into his palms, and grinding his teeth to subdue the maxillary convulsions. ‘Who was it? I’ve a good mind to turn them out of the house this moment?’ ‘It was your servant Zillah,’ I replied, flinging myself on to the floor, and rapidly resuming my garments. ‘I should not care if you did, Mr. Heathcliff; she richly deserves it. I suppose that she wanted to get another proof that the place was haunted, at my expense. Well, it is swarming with ghosts and goblins! You have reason in shutting it up, I assure you. No one will thank you for a doze in such a den!’ ‘What do you mean?’ asked Heathcliff, ‘and what are you doing? Lie down and finish out the night, since you ARE here; but, for heaven’s sake! don’t repeat that horrid noise: nothing could excuse it, unless you were having your throat cut!’ ‘If the little fiend had got in at the window, she probably would have strangled me!’ I returned. ‘I’m not going to endure the persecutions of your hospitable ancestors again. Was not the Reverend Jabez Branderham akin to you on the mother’s side? And that minx, Catherine Linton, or Earnshaw, or however she was called she must have been a changeling wicked little soul! She told me she had been walking the earth these twenty years: a just punishment for her mortal transgressions, I’ve no doubt!’ Scarcely were these words uttered when I recollected the association of Heathcliff’s with Catherine’s name in the book, which had completely slipped from my memory, till thus awakened. I blushed at my inconsideration: but, without showing further consciousness of the offence, I hastened to add ‘The truth is, sir, I passed the first part of the night in ‘ Here I stopped afresh I was about to say ‘perusing those old volumes,’ then it would have revealed my knowledge of their written, as well as their printed, contents; so, correcting myself, I went on ‘in spelling over the name scratched on that window-ledge. A monotonous occupation, calculated to set me asleep, like counting, or ‘ ‘What CAN you mean by talking in this way to ME!’ thundered Heathcliff with savage vehemence. ‘How how DARE you, under my roof? God! he’s mad to speak so!’ And he struck his forehead with rage. I did not know whether to resent this language or pursue my explanation; but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took pity and proceeded with my dreams; affirming I had never heard the appellation of ‘Catherine Linton’ before, but reading it often over produced an impression which personified itself when I had no longer my imagination under control. Heathcliff gradually fell back into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke; finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an excess of violent emotion. Not liking to show him that I had heard the conflict, I continued my toilette rather noisily, looked at my watch, and soliloquised on the length of the night: ‘Not three o’clock yet! I could have taken oath it had been six. Time stagnates here: we must surely have retired to rest at eight!’ ‘Always at nine in winter, and rise at four,’ said my host, suppressing a groan: and, as I fancied, by the motion of his arm’s shadow, dashing a tear from his eyes. ‘Mr. Lockwood,’ he added, ‘you may go into my room: you’ll only be in the way, coming downstairs so early: and your childish outcry has sent sleep to the devil for me.’ ‘And for me, too,’ I replied. ‘I’ll walk in the yard till daylight, and then I’ll be off; and you need not dread a repetition of my intrusion. I’m now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.’ ‘Delightful company!’ muttered Heathcliff. ‘Take the candle, and go where you please. I shall join you directly. Keep out of the yard, though, the dogs are unchained; and the house Juno mounts sentinel there, and nay, you can only ramble about the steps and passages. But, away with you! I’ll come in two minutes!’ I obeyed, so far as to quit the chamber; when, ignorant where the narrow lobbies led, I stood still, and was witness, involuntarily, to a piece of superstition on the part of my landlord which belied, oddly, his apparent sense. He got on to the bed, and wrenched open the lattice, bursting, as he pulled at it, into an uncontrollable passion of tears. ‘Come in! come in!’ he sobbed. ‘Cathy, do come. Oh, do ONCE more! my heart’s darling! hear me THIS time, Catherine, at last!’ The spectre showed a spectre’s ordinary caprice: it gave no sign of being; but the snow and wind whirled wildly through, even reaching my station, and blowing out the light. There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied this raving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drew off, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at having related my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony; though WHY was beyond my comprehension. I descended cautiously to the lower regions, and landed in the back-kitchen, where a gleam of fire, raked compactly together, enabled me to rekindle my candle. Nothing was stirring except a brindled, grey cat, which crept from the ashes, and saluted me with a querulous mew. Two benches, shaped in sections of a circle, nearly enclosed the hearth; on one of these I stretched myself, and Grimalkin mounted the other. We were both of us nodding ere any one invaded our retreat, and then it was Joseph, shuffling down a wooden ladder that vanished in the roof, through a trap: the ascent to his garret, I suppose. He cast a sinister look at the little flame which I had enticed to play between the ribs, swept the cat from its elevation, and bestowing himself in the vacancy, commenced the operation of stuffing a three-inch pipe with tobacco. My presence in his sanctum was evidently esteemed a piece of impudence too shameful for remark: he silently applied the tube to his lips, folded his arms, and puffed away. I let him enjoy the luxury unannoyed; and after sucking out his last wreath, and heaving a profound sigh, he got up, and departed as solemnly as he came. A more elastic footstep entered next; and now I opened my mouth for a ‘good-morning,’ but closed it again, the salutation unachieved; for Hareton Earnshaw was performing his orison SOTTO VOCE, in a series of curses directed against every object he touched, while he rummaged a corner for a spade or shovel to dig through the drifts. He glanced over the back of the bench, dilating his nostrils, and thought as little of exchanging civilities with me as with my companion the cat. I guessed, by his preparations, that egress was allowed, and, leaving my hard couch, made a movement to follow him. He noticed this, and thrust at an inner door with the end of his spade, intimating by an inarticulate sound that there was the place where I must go, if I changed my locality. It opened into the house, where the females were already astir; Zillah urging flakes of flame up the chimney with a colossal bellows; and Mrs. Heathcliff, kneeling on the hearth, reading a book by the aid of the blaze. She held her hand interposed between the furnace-heat and her eyes, and seemed absorbed in her occupation; desisting from it only to chide the servant for covering her with sparks, or to push away a dog, now and then, that snoozled its nose overforwardly into her face. I was surprised to see Heathcliff there also. He stood by the fire, his back towards me, just finishing a stormy scene with poor Zillah; who ever and anon interrupted her labour to pluck up the corner of her apron, and heave an indignant groan. ‘And you, you worthless ‘ he broke out as I entered, turning to his daughter-in-law, and employing an epithet as harmless as duck, or sheep, but generally represented by a dash . ‘There you are, at your idle tricks again! The rest of them do earn their bread you live on my charity! Put your trash away, and find something to do. You shall pay me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight do you hear, damnable jade?’ ‘I’ll put my trash away, because you can make me if I refuse,’ answered the young lady, closing her book, and throwing it on a chair. ‘But I’ll not do anything, though you should swear your tongue out, except what I please!’ Heathcliff lifted his hand, and the speaker sprang to a safer distance, obviously acquainted with its weight. Having no desire to be entertained by a cat-and-dog combat, I stepped forward briskly, as if eager to partake the warmth of the hearth, and innocent of any knowledge of the interrupted dispute. Each had enough decorum to suspend further hostilities: Heathcliff placed his fists, out of temptation, in his pockets; Mrs. Heathcliff curled her lip, and walked to a seat far off, where she kept her word by playing the part of a statue during the remainder of my stay. That was not long. I declined joining their breakfast, and, at the first gleam of dawn, took an opportunity of escaping into the free air, now clear, and still, and cold as impalpable ice. My landlord halloed for me to stop ere I reached the bottom of the garden, and offered to accompany me across the moor. It was well he did, for the whole hill-back was one billowy, white ocean; the swells and falls not indicating corresponding rises and depressions in the ground: many pits, at least, were filled to a level; and entire ranges of mounds, the refuse of the quarries, blotted from the chart which my yesterday’s walk left pictured in my mind. I had remarked on one side of the road, at intervals of six or seven yards, a line of upright stones, continued through the whole length of the barren: these were erected and daubed with lime on purpose to serve as guides in the dark, and also when a fall, like the present, confounded the deep swamps on either hand with the firmer path: but, excepting a dirty dot pointing up here and there, all traces of their existence had vanished: and my companion found it necessary to warn me frequently to steer to the right or left, when I imagined I was following, correctly, the windings of the road. We exchanged little conversation, and he halted at the entrance of Thrushcross Park, saying, I could make no error there. Our adieux were limited to a hasty bow, and then I pushed forward, trusting to my own resources; for the porter’s lodge is untenanted as yet. The distance from the gate to the grange is two miles; I believe I managed to make it four, what with losing myself among the trees, and sinking up to the neck in snow: a predicament which only those who have experienced it can appreciate. At any rate, whatever were my wanderings, the clock chimed twelve as I entered the house; and that gave exactly an hour for every mile of the usual way from Wuthering Heights. My human fixture and her satellites rushed to welcome me; exclaiming, tumultuously, they had completely given me up: everybody conjectured that I perished last night; and they were wondering how they must set about the search for my remains. I bid them be quiet, now that they saw me returned, and, benumbed to my very heart, I dragged up-stairs; whence, after putting on dry clothes, and pacing to and fro thirty or forty minutes, to restore the animal heat, I adjourned to my study, feeble as a kitten: almost too much so to enjoy the cheerful fire and smoking coffee which the servant had prepared for my refreshment. Chapter IV WHAT vain weathercocks we are! I, who had determined to hold myself independent of all social intercourse, and thanked my stars that, at length, I had lighted on a spot where it was next to impracticable I, weak wretch, after maintaining till dusk a struggle with low spirits and solitude, was finally compelled to strike my colours; and under pretence of gaining information concerning the necessities of my establishment, I desired Mrs. Dean, when she brought in supper, to sit down while I ate it; hoping sincerely she would prove a regular gossip, and either rouse me to animation or lull me to sleep by her talk. ‘You have lived here a considerable time,’ I commenced; ‘did you not say sixteen years?’ ‘Eighteen, sir: I came when the mistress was married, to wait on her; after she died, the master retained me for his housekeeper.’ ‘Indeed.’ There ensued a pause. She was not a gossip, I feared; unless about her own affairs, and those could hardly interest me. However, having studied for an interval, with a fist on either knee, and a cloud of meditation over her ruddy countenance, she ejaculated ‘Ah, times are greatly changed since then!’ ‘Yes,’ I remarked, ‘you’ve seen a good many alterations, I suppose?’ ‘I have: and troubles too,’ she said. ‘Oh, I’ll turn the talk on my landlord’s family!’ I thought to myself. ‘A good subject to start! And that pretty girl-widow, I should like to know her history: whether she be a native of the country, or, as is more probable, an exotic that the surly INDIGENAE will not recognise for kin.’ With this intention I asked Mrs. Dean why Heathcliff let Thrushcross Grange, and preferred living in a situation and residence so much inferior. ‘Is he not rich enough to keep the estate in good order?’ I inquired. ‘Rich, sir!’ she returned. ‘He has nobody knows what money, and every year it increases. Yes, yes, he’s rich enough to live in a finer house than this: but he’s very near close-handed; and, if he had meant to flit to Thrushcross Grange, as soon as he heard of a good tenant he could not have borne to miss the chance of getting a few hundreds more. It is strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in the world!’ ‘He had a son, it seems?’ ‘Yes, he had one he is dead.’ ‘And that young lady, Mrs. Heathcliff, is his widow?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Where did she come from originally?’ ‘Why, sir, she is my late master’s daughter: Catherine Linton was her maiden name. I nursed her, poor thing! I did wish Mr. Heathcliff would remove here, and then we might have been together again.’ ‘What! Catherine Linton?’ I exclaimed, astonished. But a minute’s reflection convinced me it was not my ghostly Catherine. Then,’ I continued, ‘my predecessor’s name was Linton?’ ‘It was.’ ‘And who is that Earnshaw: Hareton Earnshaw, who lives with Mr. Heathcliff? Are they relations?’ ‘No; he is the late Mrs. Linton’s nephew.’ ‘The young lady’s cousin, then?’ ‘Yes; and her husband was her cousin also: one on the mother’s, the other on the father’s side: Heathcliff married Mr. Linton’s sister.’ ‘I see the house at Wuthering Heights has ‘Earnshaw’ carved over the front door. Are they an old family?’ ‘Very old, sir; and Hareton is the last of them, as our Miss Cathy is of us I mean, of the Lintons. Have you been to Wuthering Heights? I beg pardon for asking; but I should like to hear how she is!’ ‘Mrs. Heathcliff? she looked very well, and very handsome; yet, I think, not very happy.’ ‘Oh dear, I don’t wonder! And how did you like the master?’ ‘A rough fellow, rather, Mrs. Dean. Is not that his character? ‘Rough as a saw-edge, and hard as whinstone! The less you meddle with him the better.’ ‘He must have had some ups and downs in life to make him such a churl. Do you know anything of his history?’ ‘It’s a cuckoo’s, sir I know all about it: except where he was born, and who were his parents, and how he got his money at first. And Hareton has been cast out like an unfledged dunnock! The unfortunate lad is the only one in all this parish that does not guess how he has been cheated.’ ‘Well, Mrs. Dean, it will be a charitable deed to tell me something of my neighbours: I feel I shall not rest if I go to bed; so be good enough to sit and chat an hour.’ ‘Oh, certainly, sir! I’ll just fetch a little sewing, and then I’ll sit as long as you please. But you’ve caught cold: I saw you shivering, and you must have some gruel to drive it out.’ The worthy woman bustled off, and I crouched nearer the fire; my head felt hot, and the rest of me chill: moreover, I was excited, almost to a pitch of foolishness, through my nerves and brain. This caused me to feel, not uncomfortable, but rather fearful (as I am still) of serious effects from the incidents of to-day and yesterday. She returned presently, bringing a smoking basin and a basket of work; and, having placed the former on the hob, drew in her seat, evidently pleased to find me so companionable. Before I came to live here, she commenced waiting no farther invitation to her story I was almost always at Wuthering Heights; because my mother had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that was Hareton’s father, and I got used to playing with the children: I ran errands too, and helped to make hay, and hung about the farm ready for anything that anybody would set me to. One fine summer morning it was the beginning of harvest, I remember Mr. Earnshaw, the old master, came down-stairs, dressed for a journey; and, after he had told Joseph what was to be done during the day, he turned to Hindley, and Cathy, and me for I sat eating my porridge with them and he said, speaking to his son, ‘Now, my bonny man, I’m going to Liverpool to-day, what shall I bring you? You may choose what you like: only let it be little, for I shall walk there and back: sixty miles each way, that is a long spell!’ Hindley named a fiddle, and then he asked Miss Cathy; she was hardly six years old, but she could ride any horse in the stable, and she chose a whip. He did not forget me; for he had a kind heart, though he was rather severe sometimes. He promised to bring me a pocketful of apples and pears, and then he kissed his children, said good-bye, and set off. It seemed a long while to us all the three days of his absence and often did little Cathy ask when he would be home. Mrs. Earnshaw expected him by supper-time on the third evening, and she put the meal off hour after hour; there were no signs of his coming, however, and at last the children got tired of running down to the gate to look. Then it grew dark; she would have had them to bed, but they begged sadly to be allowed to stay up; and, just about eleven o’clock, the door-latch was raised quietly, and in stepped the master. He threw himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly killed he would not have such another walk for the three kingdoms. ‘And at the end of it to be flighted to death!’ he said, opening his great-coat, which he held bundled up in his arms. ‘See here, wife! I was never so beaten with anything in my life: but you must e’en take it as a gift of God; though it’s as dark almost as if it came from the devil.’ We crowded round, and over Miss Cathy’s head I had a peep at a dirty, ragged, black-haired child; big enough both to walk and talk: indeed, its face looked older than Catherine’s; yet when it was set on its feet, it only stared round, and repeated over and over again some gibberish that nobody could understand. I was frightened, and Mrs. Earnshaw was ready to fling it out of doors: she did fly up, asking how he could fashion to bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had their own bairns to feed and fend for? What he meant to do with it, and whether he were mad? The master tried to explain the matter; but he was really half dead with fatigue, and all that I could make out, amongst her scolding, was a tale of his seeing it starving, and houseless, and as good as dumb, in the streets of Liverpool, where he picked it up and inquired for its owner. Not a soul knew to whom it belonged, he said; and his money and time being both limited, he thought it better to take it home with him at once, than run into vain expenses there: because he was determined he would not leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was, that my mistress grumbled herself calm; and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, and give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children. Hindley and Cathy contented themselves with looking and listening till peace was restored: then, both began searching their father’s pockets for the presents he had promised them. The former was a boy of fourteen, but when he drew out what had been a fiddle, crushed to morsels in the great-coat, he blubbered aloud; and Cathy, when she learned the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour by grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing; earning for her pains a sound blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They entirely refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; and I had no more sense, so I put it on the landing of the stairs, hoping it might he gone on the morrow. By chance, or else attracted by hearing his voice, it crept to Mr. Earnshaw’s door, and there he found it on quitting his chamber. Inquiries were made as to how it got there; I was obliged to confess, and in recompense for my cowardice and inhumanity was sent out of the house. This was Heathcliff’s first introduction to the family. On coming back a few days afterwards (for I did not consider my banishment perpetual), I found they had christened him ‘Heathcliff’: it was the name of a son who died in childhood, and it has served him ever since, both for Christian and surname. Miss Cathy and he were now very thick; but Hindley hated him: and to say the truth I did the same; and we plagued and went on with him shamefully: for I wasn’t reasonable enough to feel my injustice, and the mistress never put in a word on his behalf when she saw him wronged. He seemed a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to illtreatment: he would stand Hindley’s blows without winking or shedding a tear, and my pinches moved him only to draw in a breath and open his eyes, as if he had hurt himself by accident, and nobody was to blame. This endurance made old Earnshaw furious, when he discovered his son persecuting the poor fatherless child, as he called him. He took to Heathcliff strangely, believing all he said (for that matter, he said precious little, and generally the truth), and petting him up far above Cathy, who was too mischievous and wayward for a favourite. So, from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house; and at Mrs. Earnshaw’s death, which happened in less than two years after, the young master had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent’s affections and his privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries. I sympathised a while; but when the children fell ill of the measles, and I had to tend them, and take on me the cares of a woman at once, I changed my idea. Heathcliff was dangerously sick; and while he lay at the worst he would have me constantly by his pillow: I suppose he felt I did a good deal for him, and he hadn’t wit to guess that I was compelled to do it. However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse watched over. The difference between him and the others forced me to be less partial. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he was as uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him give little trouble. He got through, and the doctor affirmed it was in a great measure owing to me, and praised me for my care. I was vain of his commendations, and softened towards the being by whose means I earned them, and thus Hindley lost his last ally: still I couldn’t dote on Heathcliff, and I wondered often what my master saw to admire so much in the sullen boy; who never, to my recollection, repaid his indulgence by any sign of gratitude. He was not insolent to his benefactor, he was simply insensible; though knowing perfectly the hold he had on his heart, and conscious he had only to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes. As an instance, I remember Mr. Earnshaw once bought a couple of colts at the parish fair, and gave the lads each one. Heathcliff took the handsomest, but it soon fell lame, and when he discovered it, he said to Hindley - ‘You must exchange horses with me: I don’t like mine; and if you won’t I shall tell your father of the three thrashings you’ve given me this week, and show him my arm, which is black to the shoulder.’ Hindley put out his tongue, and cuffed him over the ears. ‘You’d better do it at once,’ he persisted, escaping to the porch (they were in the stable): ‘you will have to: and if I speak of these blows, you’ll get them again with interest.’ ‘Off, dog!’ cried Hindley, threatening him with an iron weight used for weighing potatoes and hay. ‘Throw it,’ he replied, standing still, ‘and then I’ll tell how you boasted that you would turn me out of doors as soon as he died, and see whether he will not turn you out directly.’ Hindley threw it, hitting him on the breast, and down he fell, but staggered up immediately, breathless and white; and, had not I prevented it, he would have gone just so to the master, and got full revenge by letting his condition plead for him, intimating who had caused it. ‘Take my colt, Gipsy, then!’ said young Earnshaw. ‘And I pray that he may break your neck: take him, and he damned, you beggarly interloper! and wheedle my father out of all he has: only afterwards show him what you are, imp of Satan. And take that, I hope he’ll kick out your brains!’ Heathcliff had gone to loose the beast, and shift it to his own stall; he was passing behind it, when Hindley finished his speech by knocking him under its feet, and without stopping to examine whether his hopes were fulfilled, ran away as fast as he could. I was surprised to witness how coolly the child gathered himself up, and went on with his intention; exchanging saddles and all, and then sitting down on a bundle of hay to overcome the qualm which the violent blow occasioned, before he entered the house. I persuaded him easily to let me lay the blame of his bruises on the horse: he minded little what tale was told since he had what he wanted. He complained so seldom, indeed, of such stirs as these, that I really thought him not vindictive: I was deceived completely, as you will hear. Chapter V IN the course of time Mr. Earnshaw began to fail. He had been active and healthy, yet his strength left him suddenly; and when he was confined to the chimney-corner he grew grievously irritable. A nothing vexed him; and suspected slights of his authority nearly threw him into fits. This was especially to be remarked if any one attempted to impose upon, or domineer over, his favourite: he was painfully jealous lest a word should be spoken amiss to him; seeming to have got into his head the notion that, because he liked Heathcliff, all hated, and longed to do him an ill-turn. It was a disadvantage to the lad; for the kinder among us did not wish to fret the master, so we humoured his partiality; and that humouring was rich nourishment to the child’s pride and black tempers. Still it became in a manner necessary; twice, or thrice, Hindley’s manifestation of scorn, while his father was near, roused the old man to a fury: he seized his stick to strike him, and shook with rage that he could not do it. At last, our curate (we had a curate then who made the living answer by teaching the little Lintons and Earnshaws, and farming his bit of land himself) advised that the young man should be sent to college; and Mr. Earnshaw agreed, though with a heavy spirit, for he said ‘Hindley was nought, and would never thrive as where he wandered.’ I hoped heartily we should have peace now. It hurt me to think the master should be made uncomfortable by his own good deed. I fancied the discontent of age and disease arose from his family disagreements; as he would have it that it did: really, you know, sir, it was in his sinking frame. We might have got on tolerably, notwithstanding, but for two people Miss Cathy, and Joseph, the servant: you saw him, I daresay, up yonder. He was, and is yet most likely, the wearisomest self-righteous Pharisee that ever ransacked a Bible to rake the promises to himself and fling the curses to his neighbours. By his knack of sermonising and pious discoursing, he contrived to make a great impression on Mr. Earnshaw; and the more feeble the master became, the more influence he gained. He was relentless in worrying him about his soul’s concerns, and about ruling his children rigidly. He encouraged him to regard Hindley as a reprobate; and, night after night, he regularly grumbled out a long string of tales against Heathcliff and Catherine: always minding to flatter Earnshaw’s weakness by heaping the heaviest blame on the latter. Certainly she had ways with her such as I never saw a child take up before; and she put all of us past our patience fifty times and oftener in a day: from the hour she came down-stairs till the hour she went to bed, we had not a minute’s security that she wouldn’t be in mischief. Her spirits were always at high-water mark, her tongue always going singing, laughing, and plaguing everybody who would not do the same. A wild, wicked slip she was but she had the bonniest eye, the sweetest smile, and lightest foot in the parish: and, after all, I believe she meant no harm; for when once she made you cry in good earnest, it seldom happened that she would not keep you company, and oblige you to be quiet that you might comfort her. She was much too fond of Heathcliff. The greatest punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him: yet she got chided more than any of us on his account. In play, she liked exceedingly to act the little mistress; using her hands freely, and commanding her companions: she did so to me, but I would not bear slapping and ordering; and so I let her know. Now, Mr. Earnshaw did not understand jokes from his children: he had always been strict and grave with them; and Catherine, on her part, had no idea why her father should be crosser and less patient in his ailing condition than he was in his prime. His peevish reproofs wakened in her a naughty delight to provoke him: she was never so happy as when we were all scolding her at once, and she defying us with her bold, saucy look, and her ready words; turning Joseph’s religious curses into ridicule, baiting me, and doing just what her father hated most showing how her pretended insolence, which he thought real, had more power over Heathcliff than his kindness: how the boy would do HER bidding in anything, and HIS only when it suited his own inclination. After behaving as badly as possible all day, she sometimes came fondling to make it up at night. ‘Nay, Cathy,’ the old man would say, ‘I cannot love thee, thou’rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God’s pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!’ That made her cry, at first; and then being repulsed continually hardened her, and she laughed if I told her to say she was sorry for her faults, and beg to be forgiven. But the hour came, at last, that ended Mr. Earnshaw’s troubles on earth. He died quietly in his chair one October evening, seated by the fire-side. A high wind blustered round the house, and roared in the chimney: it sounded wild and stormy, yet it was not cold, and we were all together I, a little removed from the hearth, busy at my knitting, and Joseph reading his Bible near the table (for the servants generally sat in the house then, after their work was done). Miss Cathy had been sick, and that made her still; she leant against her father’s knee, and Heathcliff was lying on the floor with his head in her lap. I remember the master, before he fell into a doze, stroking her bonny hair it pleased him rarely to see her gentle and saying, ‘Why canst thou not always be a good lass, Cathy?’ And she turned her face up to his, and laughed, and answered, ‘Why cannot you always be a good man, father?’ But as soon as she saw him vexed again, she kissed his hand, and said she would sing him to sleep. She began singing very low, till his fingers dropped from hers, and his head sank on his breast. Then I told her to hush, and not stir, for fear she should wake him. We all kept as mute as mice a full half-hour, and should have done so longer, only Joseph, having finished his chapter, got up and said that he must rouse the master for prayers and bed. He stepped forward, and called him by name, and touched his shoulder; but he would not move: so he took the candle and looked at him. I thought there was something wrong as he set down the light; and seizing the children each by an arm, whispered them to ‘frame upstairs, and make little din they might pray alone that evening he had summut to do.’ ‘I shall bid father good-night first,’ said Catherine, putting her arms round his neck, before we could hinder her. The poor thing discovered her loss directly she screamed out ‘Oh, he’s dead, Heathcliff! he’s dead!’ And they both set up a heart-breaking cry. I joined my wail to theirs, loud and bitter; but Joseph asked what we could be thinking of to roar in that way over a saint in heaven. He told me to put on my cloak and run to Gimmerton for the doctor and the parson. I could not guess the use that either would be of, then. However, I went, through wind and rain, and brought one, the doctor, back with me; the other said he would come in the morning. Leaving Joseph to explain matters, I ran to the children’s room: their door was ajar, I saw they had never lain down, though it was past midnight; but they were calmer, and did not need me to console them. The little souls were comforting each other with better thoughts than I could have hit on: no parson in the world ever pictured heaven so beautifully as they did, in their innocent talk; and, while I sobbed and listened, I could not help wishing we were all there safe together. Chapter VI HINDLEY came home to the funeral; and a thing that amazed us, and set the neighbours gossiping right and left he brought a wife with him. What she was, and where she was born, he never informed us: probably, she had neither money nor name to recommend her, or he would scarcely have kept the union from his father. She was not one that would have disturbed the house much on her own account. Every object she saw, the moment she crossed the threshold, appeared to delight her; and every circumstance that took place about her: except the preparing for the burial, and the presence of the mourners. I thought she was half silly, from her behaviour while that went on: she ran into her chamber, and made me come with her, though I should have been dressing the children: and there she sat shivering and clasping her hands, and asking repeatedly ‘Are they gone yet?’ Then she began describing with hysterical emotion the effect it produced on her to see black; and started, and trembled, and, at last, fell a-weeping and when I asked what was the matter, answered, she didn’t know; but she felt so afraid of dying! I imagined her as little likely to die as myself. She was rather thin, but young, and fresh-complexioned, and her eyes sparkled as bright as diamonds. I did remark, to be sure, that mounting the stairs made her breathe very quick; that the least sudden noise set her all in a quiver, and that she coughed troublesomely sometimes: but I knew nothing of what these symptoms portended, and had no impulse to sympathise with her. We don’t in general take to foreigners here, Mr. Lockwood, unless they take to us first. Young Earnshaw was altered considerably in the three years of his absence. He had grown sparer, and lost his colour, and spoke and dressed quite differently; and, on the very day of his return, he told Joseph and me we must thenceforth quarter ourselves in the back-kitchen, and leave the house for him. Indeed, he would have carpeted and papered a small spare room for a parlour; but his wife expressed such pleasure at the white floor and huge glowing fireplace, at the pewter dishes and delf-case, and dog-kennel, and the wide space there was to move about in where they usually sat, that he thought it unnecessary to her comfort, and so dropped the intention. She expressed pleasure, too, at finding a sister among her new acquaintance; and she prattled to Catherine, and kissed her, and ran about with her, and gave her quantities of presents, at the beginning. Her affection tired very soon, however, and when she grew peevish, Hindley became tyrannical. A few words from her, evincing a dislike to Heathcliff, were enough to rouse in him all his old hatred of the boy. He drove him from their company to the servants, deprived him of the instructions of the curate, and insisted that he should labour out of doors instead; compelling him to do so as hard as any other lad on the farm. Heathcliff bore his degradation pretty well at first, because Cathy taught him what she learnt, and worked or played with him in the fields. They both promised fair to grow up as rude as savages; the young master being entirely negligent how they behaved, and what they did, so they kept clear of him. He would not even have seen after their going to church on Sundays, only Joseph and the curate reprimanded his carelessness when they absented themselves; and that reminded him to order Heathcliff a flogging, and Catherine a fast from dinner or supper. But it was one of their chief amusements to run away to the moors in the morning and remain there all day, and the after punishment grew a mere thing to laugh at. The curate might set as many chapters as he pleased for Catherine to get by heart, and Joseph might thrash Heathcliff till his arm ached; they forgot everything the minute they were together again: at least the minute they had contrived some naughty plan of revenge; and many a time I’ve cried to myself to watch them growing more reckless daily, and I not daring to speak a syllable, for fear of losing the small power I still retained over the unfriended creatures. One Sunday evening, it chanced that they were banished from the sitting-room, for making a noise, or a light offence of the kind; and when I went to call them to supper, I could discover them nowhere. We searched the house, above and below, and the yard and stables; they were invisible: and, at last, Hindley in a passion told us to bolt the doors, and swore nobody should let them in that night. The household went to bed; and I, too, anxious to lie down, opened my lattice and put my head out to hearken, though it rained: determined to admit them in spite of the prohibition, should they return. In a while, I distinguished steps coming up the road, and the light of a lantern glimmered through the gate. I threw a shawl over my head and ran to prevent them from waking Mr. Earnshaw by knocking. There was Heathcliff, by himself: it gave me a start to see him alone. ‘Where is Miss Catherine?’ I cried hurriedly. ‘No accident, I hope?’ ‘At Thrushcross Grange,’ he answered; ‘and I would have been there too, but they had not the manners to ask me to stay.’ ‘Well, you will catch it!’ I said: ‘you’ll never be content till you’re sent about your business. What in the world led you wandering to Thrushcross Grange?’ ‘Let me get off my wet clothes, and I’ll tell you all about it, Nelly,’ he replied. I bid him beware of rousing the master, and while he undressed and I waited to put out the candle, he continued ‘Cathy and I escaped from the wash-house to have a ramble at liberty, and getting a glimpse of the Grange lights, we thought we would just go and see whether the Lintons passed their Sunday evenings standing shivering in corners, while their father and mother sat eating and drinking, and singing and laughing, and burning their eyes out before the fire. Do you think they do? Or reading sermons, and being catechised by their manservant, and set to learn a column of Scripture names, if they don’t answer properly?’ ‘Probably not,’ I responded. ‘They are good children, no doubt, and don’t deserve the treatment you receive, for your bad conduct.’ ‘Don’t cant, Nelly,’ he said: ‘nonsense! We ran from the top of the Heights to the park, without stopping Catherine completely beaten in the race, because she was barefoot. You’ll have to seek for her shoes in the bog to-morrow. We crept through a broken hedge, groped our way up the path, and planted ourselves on a flower-plot under the drawing-room window. The light came from thence; they had not put up the shutters, and the curtains were only half closed. Both of us were able to look in by standing on the basement, and clinging to the ledge, and we saw ah! it was beautiful a splendid place carpeted with crimson, and crimson-covered chairs and tables, and a pure white ceiling bordered by gold, a shower of glass-drops hanging in silver chains from the centre, and shimmering with little soft tapers. Old Mr. and Mrs. Linton were not there; Edgar and his sisters had it entirely to themselves. Shouldn’t they have been happy? We should have thought ourselves in heaven! And now, guess what your good children were doing? Isabella I believe she is eleven, a year younger than Cathy lay screaming at the farther end of the room, shrieking as if witches were running red-hot needles into her. Edgar stood on the hearth weeping silently, and in the middle of the table sat a little dog, shaking its paw and yelping; which, from their mutual accusations, we understood they had nearly pulled in two between them. The idiots! That was their pleasure! to quarrel who should hold a heap of warm hair, and each begin to cry because both, after struggling to get it, refused to take it. We laughed outright at the petted things; we did despise them! When would you catch me wishing to have what Catherine wanted? or find us by ourselves, seeking entertainment in yelling, and sobbing, and rolling on the ground, divided by the whole room? I’d not exchange, for a thousand lives, my condition here, for Edgar Linton’s at Thrushcross Grange not if I might have the privilege of flinging Joseph off the highest gable, and painting the housefront with Hindley’s blood!’ ‘Hush, hush!’ I interrupted. ‘Still you have not told me, Heathcliff, how Catherine is left behind?’ ‘I told you we laughed,’ he answered. ‘The Lintons heard us, and with one accord they shot like arrows to the door; there was silence, and then a cry, ‘Oh, mamma, mamma! Oh, papa! Oh, mamma, come here. Oh, papa, oh!’ They really did howl out something in that way. We made frightful noises to terrify them still more, and then we dropped off the ledge, because somebody was drawing the bars, and we felt we had better flee. I had Cathy by the hand, and was urging her on, when all at once she fell down. ‘Run, Heathcliff, run!’ she whispered. ‘They have let the bull-dog loose, and he holds me!’ The devil had seized her ankle, Nelly: I heard his abominable snorting. She did not yell out no! she would have scorned to do it, if she had been spitted on the horns of a mad cow. I did, though: I vociferated curses enough to annihilate any fiend in Christendom; and I got a stone and thrust it between his jaws, and tried with all my might to cram it down his throat. A beast of a servant came up with a lantern, at last, shouting ‘Keep fast, Skulker, keep fast!’ He changed his note, however, when he saw Skulker’s game. The dog was throttled off; his huge, purple tongue hanging half a foot out of his mouth, and his pendent lips streaming with bloody slaver. The man took Cathy up; she was sick: not from fear, I’m certain, but from pain. He carried her in; I followed, grumbling execrations and vengeance. ‘What prey, Robert?’ hallooed Linton from the entrance. ‘Skulker has caught a little girl, sir,’ he replied; ‘and there’s a lad here,’ he added, making a clutch at me, ‘who looks an out-andouter! Very like the robbers were for putting them through the window to open the doors to the gang after all were asleep, that they might murder us at their ease. Hold your tongue, you foulmouthed thief, you! you shall go to the gallows for this. Mr. Linton, sir, don’t lay by your gun.’ ‘No, no, Robert,’ said the old fool. ‘The rascals knew that yesterday was my rent-day: they thought to have me cleverly. Come in; I’ll furnish them a reception. There, John, fasten the chain. Give Skulker some water, Jenny. To beard a magistrate in his stronghold, and on the Sabbath, too! Where will their insolence stop? Oh, my dear Mary, look here! Don’t be afraid, it is but a boy yet the villain scowls so plainly in his face; would it not be a kindness to the country to hang him at once, before he shows his nature in acts as well as features?’ He pulled me under the chandelier, and Mrs. Linton placed her spectacles on her nose and raised her hands in horror. The cowardly children crept nearer also, Isabella lisping ‘Frightful thing! Put him in the cellar, papa. He’s exactly like the son of the fortune-teller that stole my tame pheasant. Isn’t he, Edgar?’ ‘While they examined me, Cathy came round; she heard the last speech, and laughed. Edgar Linton, after an inquisitive stare, collected sufficient wit to recognise her. They see us at church, you know, though we seldom meet them elsewhere. ‘That’s Miss Earnshaw?’ he whispered to his mother, ‘and look how Skulker has bitten her how her foot bleeds!’ ‘’Miss Earnshaw? Nonsense!’ cried the dame; ‘Miss Earnshaw scouring the country with a gipsy! And yet, my dear, the child is in mourning surely it is and she may be lamed for life!’ ‘’What culpable carelessness in her brother!’ exclaimed Mr. Linton, turning from me to Catherine. ‘I’ve understood from Shielders‘‘ (that was the curate, sir) ‘“that he lets her grow up in absolute heathenism. But who is this? Where did she pick up this companion? Oho! I declare he is that strange acquisition my late neighbour made, in his journey to Liverpool a little Lascar, or an American or Spanish castaway.’ ‘’A wicked boy, at all events,’ remarked the old lady, ‘and quite unfit for a decent house! Did you notice his language, Linton? I’m shocked that my children should have heard it.’ ‘I recommenced cursing don’t be angry, Nelly and so Robert was ordered to take me off. I refused to go without Cathy; he dragged me into the garden, pushed the lantern into my hand, assured me that Mr. Earnshaw should be informed of my behaviour, and, bidding me march directly, secured the door again. The curtains were still looped up at one corner, and I resumed my station as spy; because, if Catherine had wished to return, I intended shattering their great glass panes to a million of fragments, unless they let her out. She sat on the sofa quietly. Mrs. Linton took off the grey cloak of the dairy-maid which we had borrowed for our excursion, shaking her head and expostulating with her, I suppose: she was a young lady, and they made a distinction between her treatment and mine. Then the woman-servant brought a basin of warm water, and washed her feet; and Mr. Linton mixed a tumbler of negus, and Isabella emptied a plateful of cakes into her lap, and Edgar stood gaping at a distance. Afterwards, they dried and combed her beautiful hair, and gave her a pair of enormous slippers, and wheeled her to the fire; and I left her, as merry as she could be, dividing her food between the little dog and Skulker, whose nose she pinched as he ate; and kindling a spark of spirit in the vacant blue eyes of the Lintons a dim reflection from her own enchanting face. I saw they were full of stupid admiration; she is so immeasurably superior to them to everybody on earth, is she not, Nelly?’ ‘There will more come of this business than you reckon on,’ I answered, covering him up and extinguishing the light. ‘You are incurable, Heathcliff; and Mr. Hindley will have to proceed to extremities, see if he won’t.’ My words came truer than I desired. The luckless adventure made Earnshaw furious. And then Mr. Linton, to mend matters, paid us a visit himself on the morrow, and read the young master such a lecture on the road he guided his family, that he was stirred to look about him, in earnest. Heathcliff received no flogging, but he was told that the first word he spoke to Miss Catherine should ensure a dismissal; and Mrs. Earnshaw undertook to keep her sister-in-law in due restraint when she returned home; employing art, not force: with force she would have found it impossible. Chapter VII CATHY stayed at Thrushcross Grange five weeks: till Christmas. By that time her ankle was thoroughly cured, and her manners much improved. The mistress visited her often in the interval, and commenced her plan of reform by trying to raise her self-respect with fine clothes and flattery, which she took readily; so that, instead of a wild, hatless little savage jumping into the house, and rushing to squeeze us all breathless, there ‘lighted from a handsome black pony a very dignified person, with brown ringlets falling from the cover of a feathered beaver, and a long cloth habit, which she was obliged to hold up with both hands that she might sail in. Hindley lifted her from her horse, exclaiming delightedly, ‘Why, Cathy, you are quite a beauty! I should scarcely have known you: you look like a lady now. Isabella Linton is not to be compared with her, is she, Frances?’ ‘Isabella has not her natural advantages,’ replied his wife: ‘but she must mind and not grow wild again here. Ellen, help Miss Catherine off with her things Stay, dear, you will disarrange your curls let me untie your hat.’ I removed the habit, and there shone forth beneath a grand plaid silk frock, white trousers, and burnished shoes; and, while her eyes sparkled joyfully when the dogs came bounding up to welcome her, she dared hardly touch them lest they should fawn upon her splendid garments. She kissed me gently: I was all flour making the Christmas cake, and it would not have done to give me a hug; and then she looked round for Heathcliff. Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw watched anxiously their meeting; thinking it would enable them to judge, in some measure, what grounds they had for hoping to succeed in separating the two friends. Heathcliff was hard to discover, at first. If he were careless, and uncared for, before Catherine’s absence, he had been ten times more so since. Nobody but I even did him the kindness to call him a dirty boy, and bid him wash himself, once a week; and children of his age seldom have a natural pleasure in soap and water. Therefore, not to mention his clothes, which had seen three months’ service in mire and dust, and his thick uncombed hair, the surface of his face and hands was dismally beclouded. He might well skulk behind the settle, on beholding such a bright, graceful damsel enter the house, instead of a rough-headed counterpart of himself, as he expected. ‘Is Heathcliff not here?’ she demanded, pulling off her gloves, and displaying fingers wonderfully whitened with doing nothing and staying indoors. ‘Heathcliff, you may come forward,’ cried Mr. Hindley, enjoying his discomfiture, and gratified to see what a forbidding young blackguard he would be compelled to present himself. ‘You may come and wish Miss Catherine welcome, like the other servants.’ Cathy, catching a glimpse of her friend in his concealment, flew to embrace him; she bestowed seven or eight kisses on his cheek within the second, and then stopped, and drawing back, burst into a laugh, exclaiming, ‘Why, how very black and cross you look! and how how funny and grim! But that’s because I’m used to Edgar and Isabella Linton. Well, Heathcliff, have you forgotten me?’ She had some reason to put the question, for shame and pride threw double gloom over his countenance, and kept him immovable. ‘Shake hands, Heathcliff,’ said Mr. Earnshaw, condescendingly; ‘once in a way, that is permitted.’ ‘I shall not,’ replied the boy, finding his tongue at last; ‘I shall not stand to be laughed at. I shall not bear it!’ And he would have broken from the circle, but Miss Cathy seized him again. ‘I did not mean to laugh at you,’ she said; ‘I could not hinder myself: Heathcliff, shake hands at least! What are you sulky for? It was only that you looked odd. If you wash your face and brush your hair, it will be all right: but you are so dirty!’ She gazed concernedly at the dusky fingers she held in her own, and also at her dress; which she feared had gained no embellishment from its contact with his. ‘You needn’t have touched me!’ he answered, following her eye and snatching away his hand. ‘I shall be as dirty as I please: and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty.’ With that he dashed headforemost out of the room, amid the merriment of the master and mistress, and to the serious disturbance of Catherine; who could not comprehend how her remarks should have produced such an exhibition of bad temper. After playing lady’s-maid to the new-comer, and putting my cakes in the oven, and making the house and kitchen cheerful with great fires, befitting Christmas-eve, I prepared to sit down and amuse myself by singing carols, all alone; regardless of Joseph’s affirmations that he considered the merry tunes I chose as next door to songs. He had retired to private prayer in his chamber, and Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw were engaging Missy’s attention by sundry gay trifles bought for her to present to the little Lintons, as an acknowledgment of their kindness. They had invited them to spend the morrow at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had been accepted, on one condition: Mrs. Linton begged that her darlings might be kept carefully apart from that ‘naughty swearing boy.’ Under these circumstances I remained solitary. I smelt the rich scent of the heating spices; and admired the shining kitchen utensils, the polished clock, decked in holly, the silver mugs ranged on a tray ready to be filled with mulled ale for supper; and above all, the speckless purity of my particular care the scoured and well-swept floor. I gave due inward applause to every object, and then I remembered how old Earnshaw used to come in when all was tidied, and call me a cant lass, and slip a shilling into my hand as a Christmas-box; and from that I went on to think of his fondness for Heathcliff, and his dread lest he should suffer neglect after death had removed him: and that naturally led me to consider the poor lad’s situation now, and from singing I changed my mind to crying. It struck me soon, however, there would be more sense in endeavouring to repair some of his wrongs than shedding tears over them: I got up and walked into the court to seek him. He was not far; I found him smoothing the glossy coat of the new pony in the stable, and feeding the other beasts, according to custom. ‘Make haste, Heathcliff!’ I said, ‘the kitchen is so comfortable; and Joseph is up-stairs: make haste, and let me dress you smart before Miss Cathy comes out, and then you can sit together, with the whole hearth to yourselves, and have a long chatter till bedtime.’ He proceeded with his task, and never turned his head towards me. ‘Come are you coming?’ I continued. ‘There’s a little cake for each of you, nearly enough; and you’ll need half-an-hour’s donning.’ I waited five minutes, but getting no answer left him. Catherine supped with her brother and sister-in-law: Joseph and I joined at an unsociable meal, seasoned with reproofs on one side and sauciness on the other. His cake and cheese remained on the table all night for the fairies. He managed to continue work till nine o’clock, and then marched dumb and dour to his chamber. Cathy sat up late, having a world of things to order for the reception of her new friends: she came into the kitchen once to speak to her old one; but he was gone, and she only stayed to ask what was the matter with him, and then went back. In the morning he rose early; and, as it was a holiday, carried his ill-humour on to the moors; not re-appearing till the family were departed for church. Fasting and reflection seemed to have brought him to a better spirit. He hung about me for a while, and having screwed up his courage, exclaimed abruptly ‘Nelly, make me decent, I’m going to be good.’ ‘High time, Heathcliff,’ I said; ‘you HAVE grieved Catherine: she’s sorry she ever came home, I daresay! It looks as if you envied her, because she is more thought of than you.’ The notion of ENVYING Catherine was incomprehensible to him, but the notion of grieving her he understood clearly enough. ‘Did she say she was grieved?’ he inquired, looking very serious. ‘She cried when I told her you were off again this morning.’ ‘Well, I cried last night,’ he returned, ‘and I had more reason to cry than she.’ ‘Yes: you had the reason of going to bed with a proud heart and an empty stomach,’ said I. ‘Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. But, if you be ashamed of your touchiness, you must ask pardon, mind, when she comes in. You must go up and offer to kiss her, and say you know best what to say; only do it heartily, and not as if you thought her converted into a stranger by her grand dress. And now, though I have dinner to get ready, I’ll steal time to arrange you so that Edgar Linton shall look quite a doll beside you: and that he does. You are younger, and yet, I’ll be bound, you are taller and twice as broad across the shoulders; you could knock him down in a twinkling; don’t you feel that you could?’ Heathcliff’s face brightened a moment; then it was overcast afresh, and he sighed. ‘But, Nelly, if I knocked him down twenty times, that wouldn’t make him less handsome or me more so. I wish I had light hair and a fair skin, and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance of being as rich as he will be!’ ‘And cried for mamma at every turn,’ I added, ‘and trembled if a country lad heaved his fist against you, and sat at home all day for a shower of rain. Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit! Come to the glass, and I’ll let you see what you should wish. Do you mark those two lines between your eyes; and those thick brows, that, instead of rising arched, sink in the middle; and that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them, like devil’s spies? Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes. Don’t get the expression of a vicious cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are its desert, and yet hates all the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.’ ‘In other words, I must wish for Edgar Linton’s great blue eyes and even forehead,’ he replied. ‘I do and that won’t help me to them.’ ‘A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,’ I continued, ‘if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we’ve done washing, and combing, and sulking tell me whether you don’t think yourself rather handsome? I’ll tell you, I do. You’re fit for a prince in disguise. Who knows but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each of them able to buy up, with one week’s income, Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange together? And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors and brought to England. Were I in your place, I would frame high notions of my birth; and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer!’ So I chattered on; and Heathcliff gradually lost his frown and began to look quite pleasant, when all at once our conversation was interrupted by a rumbling sound moving up the road and entering the court. He ran to the window and I to the door, just in time to behold the two Lintons descend from the family carriage, smothered in cloaks and furs, and the Earnshaws dismount from their horses: they often rode to church in winter. Catherine took a hand of each of the children, and brought them into the house and set them before the fire, which quickly put colour into their white faces. I urged my companion to hasten now and show his amiable humour, and he willingly obeyed; but ill luck would have it that, as he opened the door leading from the kitchen on one side, Hindley opened it on the other. They met, and the master, irritated at seeing him clean and cheerful, or, perhaps, eager to keep his promise to Mrs. Linton, shoved him back with a sudden thrust, and angrily bade Joseph ‘keep the fellow out of the room send him into the garret till dinner is over. He’ll be cramming his fingers in the tarts and stealing the fruit, if left alone with them a minute.’ ‘Nay, sir,’ I could not avoid answering, ‘he’ll touch nothing, not he: and I suppose he must have his share of the dainties as well as we.’ ‘He shall have his share of my hand, if I catch him downstairs till dark,’ cried Hindley. ‘Begone, you vagabond! What! you are attempting the coxcomb, are you? Wait till I get hold of those elegant locks see if I won’t pull them a bit longer!’ ‘They are long enough already,’ observed Master Linton, peeping from the doorway; ‘I wonder they don’t make his head ache. It’s like a colt’s mane over his eyes!’ He ventured this remark without any intention to insult; but Heathcliff’s violent nature was not prepared to endure the appearance of impertinence from one whom he seemed to hate, even then, as a rival. He seized a tureen of hot apple sauce (the first thing that came under his gripe) and dashed it full against the speaker’s face and neck; who instantly commenced a lament that brought Isabella and Catherine hurrying to the place. Mr. Earnshaw snatched up the culprit directly and conveyed him to his chamber; where, doubtless, he administered a rough remedy to cool the fit of passion, for he appeared red and breathless. I got the dishcloth, and rather spitefully scrubbed Edgar’s nose and mouth, affirming it served him right for meddling. His sister began weeping to go home, and Cathy stood by confounded, blushing for all. ‘You should not have spoken to him!’ she expostulated with Master Linton. ‘He was in a bad temper, and now you’ve spoilt your visit; and he’ll be flogged: I hate him to be flogged! I can’t eat my dinner. Why did you speak to him, Edgar?’ ‘I didn’t,’ sobbed the youth, escaping from my hands, and finishing the remainder of the purification with his cambric pockethandkerchief. ‘I promised mamma that I wouldn’t say one word to him, and I didn’t.’ ‘Well, don’t cry,’ replied Catherine, contemptuously; ‘you’re not killed. Don’t make more mischief; my brother is coming: be quiet! Hush, Isabella! Has anybody hurt you?’ ‘There, there, children to your seats!’ cried Hindley, bustling in. ‘That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely. Next time, Master Edgar, take the law into your own fists it will give you an appetite!’ The little party recovered its equanimity at sight of the fragrant feast. They were hungry after their ride, and easily consoled, since no real harm had befallen them. Mr. Earnshaw carved bountiful platefuls, and the mistress made them merry with lively talk. I waited behind her chair, and was pained to behold Catherine, with dry eyes and an indifferent air, commence cutting up the wing of a goose before her. ‘An unfeeling child,’ I thought to myself; ‘how lightly she dismisses her old playmate’s troubles. I could not have imagined her to be so selfish.’ She lifted a mouthful to her lips: then she set it down again: her cheeks flushed, and the tears gushed over them. She slipped her fork to the floor, and hastily dived under the cloth to conceal her emotion. I did not call her unfeeling long; for I perceived she was in purgatory throughout the day, and wearying to find an opportunity of getting by herself, or paying a visit to Heathcliff, who had been locked up by the master: as I discovered, on endeavouring to introduce to him a private mess of victuals. In the evening we had a dance. Cathy begged that he might be liberated then, as Isabella Linton had no partner: her entreaties were vain, and I was appointed to supply the deficiency. We got rid of all gloom in the excitement of the exercise, and our pleasure was increased by the arrival of the Gimmerton band, mustering fifteen strong: a trumpet, a trombone, clarionets, bassoons, French horns, and a bass viol, besides singers. They go the rounds of all the respectable houses, and receive contributions every Christmas, and we esteemed it a first-rate treat to hear them. After the usual carols had been sung, we set them to songs and glees. Mrs. Earnshaw loved the music, and so they gave us plenty. Catherine loved it too: but she said it sounded sweetest at the top of the steps, and she went up in the dark: I followed. They shut the house door below, never noting our absence, it was so full of people. She made no stay at the stairs’-head, but mounted farther, to the garret where Heathcliff was confined, and called him. He stubbornly declined answering for a while: she persevered, and finally persuaded him to hold communion with her through the boards. I let the poor things converse unmolested, till I supposed the songs were going to cease, and the singers to get some refreshment: then I clambered up the ladder to warn her. Instead of finding her outside, I heard her voice within. The little monkey had crept by the skylight of one garret, along the roof, into the skylight of the other, and it was with the utmost difficulty I could coax her out again. When she did come, Heathcliff came with her, and she insisted that I should take him into the kitchen, as my fellow-servant had gone to a neighbour’s, to be removed from the sound of our ‘devil’s psalmody,’ as it pleased him to call it. I told them I intended by no means to encourage their tricks: but as the prisoner had never broken his fast since yesterday’s dinner, I would wink at his cheating Mr. Hindley that once. He went down: I set him a stool by the fire, and offered him a quantity of good things: but he was sick and could eat little, and my attempts to entertain him were thrown away. He leant his two elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands and remained rapt in dumb meditation. On my inquiring the subject of his thoughts, he answered gravely ‘I’m trying to settle how I shall pay Hindley back. I don’t care how long I wait, if I can only do it at last. I hope he will not die before I do!’ ‘For shame, Heathcliff!’ said I. ‘It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.’ ‘No, God won’t have the satisfaction that I shall,’ he returned. ‘I only wish I knew the best way! Let me alone, and I’ll plan it out: while I’m thinking of that I don’t feel pain.’ ‘But, Mr. Lockwood, I forget these tales cannot divert you. I’m annoyed how I should dream of chattering on at such a rate; and your gruel cold, and you nodding for bed! I could have told Heathcliff’s history, all that you need hear, in half a dozen words.’ Thus interrupting herself, the housekeeper rose, and proceeded to lay aside her sewing; but I felt incapable of moving from the hearth, and I was very far from nodding. ‘Sit still, Mrs. Dean,’ I cried; ‘do sit still another half-hour. You’ve done just right to tell the story leisurely. That is the method I like; and you must finish it in the same style. I am interested in every character you have mentioned, more or less.’ ‘The clock is on the stroke of eleven, sir.’ ‘No matter I’m not accustomed to go to bed in the long hours. One or two is early enough for a person who lies till ten.’ ‘You shouldn’t lie till ten. There’s the very prime of the morning gone long before that time. A person who has not done one-half his day’s work by ten o’clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.’ ‘Nevertheless, Mrs. Dean, resume your chair; because to-morrow I intend lengthening the night till afternoon. I prognosticate for myself an obstinate cold, at least.’ ‘I hope not, sir. Well, you must allow me to leap over some three years; during that space Mrs. Earnshaw ‘ ‘No, no, I’ll allow nothing of the sort! Are you acquainted with the mood of mind in which, if you were seated alone, and the cat licking its kitten on the rug before you, you would watch the operation so intently that puss’s neglect of one ear would put you seriously out of temper?’ ‘A terribly lazy mood, I should say.’ ‘On the contrary, a tiresomely active one. It is mine, at present; and, therefore, continue minutely. I perceive that people in these regions acquire over people in towns the value that a spider in a dungeon does over a spider in a cottage, to their various occupants; and yet the deepened attraction is not entirely owing to the situation of the looker-on. They DO live more in earnest, more in themselves, and less in surface, change, and frivolous external things. I could fancy a love for life here almost possible; and I was a fixed unbeliever in any love of a year’s standing. One state resembles setting a hungry man down to a single dish, on which he may concentrate his entire appetite and do it justice; the other, introducing him to a table laid out by French cooks: he can perhaps extract as much enjoyment from the whole; but each part is a mere atom in his regard and remembrance.’ ‘Oh! here we are the same as anywhere else, when you get to know us,’ observed Mrs. Dean, somewhat puzzled at my speech. ‘Excuse me,’ I responded; ‘you, my good friend, are a striking evidence against that assertion. Excepting a few provincialisms of slight consequence, you have no marks of the manners which I am habituated to consider as peculiar to your class. I am sure you have thought a great deal more than the generality of servants think. You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles.’ Mrs. Dean laughed. ‘I certainly esteem myself a steady, reasonable kind of body,’ she said; ‘not exactly from living among the hills and seeing one set of faces, and one series of actions, from year’s end to year’s end; but I have undergone sharp discipline, which has taught me wisdom; and then, I have read more than you would fancy, Mr. Lockwood. You could not open a book in this library that I have not looked into, and got something out of also: unless it be that range of Greek and Latin, and that of French; and those I know one from another: it is as much as you can expect of a poor man’s daughter. However, if I am to follow my story in true gossip’s fashion, I had better go on; and instead of leaping three years, I will be content to pass to the next summer the summer of 1778, that is nearly twenty-three years ago.’ Chapter VIII ON the morning of a fine June day my first bonny little nursling, and the last of the ancient Earnshaw stock, was born. We were busy with the hay in a far-away field, when the girl that usually brought our breakfasts came running an hour too soon across the meadow and up the lane, calling me as she ran. ‘Oh, such a grand bairn!’ she panted out. ‘The finest lad that ever breathed! But the doctor says missis must go: he says she’s been in a consumption these many months. I heard him tell Mr. Hindley: and now she has nothing to keep her, and she’ll be dead before winter. You must come home directly. You’re to nurse it, Nelly: to feed it with sugar and milk, and take care of it day and night. I wish I were you, because it will be all yours when there is no missis!’ ‘But is she very ill?’ I asked, flinging down my rake and tying my bonnet. ‘I guess she is; yet she looks bravely,’ replied the girl, ‘and she talks as if she thought of living to see it grow a man. She’s out of her head for joy, it’s such a beauty! If I were her I’m certain I should not die: I should get better at the bare sight of it, in spite of Kenneth. I was fairly mad at him. Dame Archer brought the cherub down to master, in the house, and his face just began to light up, when the old croaker steps forward, and says he ‘Earnshaw, it’s a blessing your wife has been spared to leave you this son. When she came, I felt convinced we shouldn’t keep her long; and now, I must tell you, the winter will probably finish her. Don’t take on, and fret about it too much: it can’t be helped. And besides, you should have known better than to choose such a rush of a lass!‘‘ ‘And what did the master answer?’ I inquired. ‘I think he swore: but I didn’t mind him, I was straining to see the bairn,’ and she began again to describe it rapturously. I, as zealous as herself, hurried eagerly home to admire, on my part; though I was very sad for Hindley’s sake. He had room in his heart only for two idols his wife and himself: he doted on both, and adored one, and I couldn’t conceive how he would bear the loss. When we got to Wuthering Heights, there he stood at the front door; and, as I passed in, I asked, ‘how was the baby?’ ‘Nearly ready to run about, Nell!’ he replied, putting on a cheerful smile. ‘And the mistress?’ I ventured to inquire; ‘the doctor says she’s ‘ ‘Damn the doctor!’ he interrupted, reddening. ‘Frances is quite right: she’ll be perfectly well by this time next week. Are you going up-stairs? will you tell her that I’ll come, if she’ll promise not to talk. I left her because she would not hold her tongue; and she must tell her Mr. Kenneth says she must be quiet.’ I delivered this message to Mrs. Earnshaw; she seemed in flighty spirits, and replied merrily, ‘I hardly spoke a word, Ellen, and there he has gone out twice, crying. Well, say I promise I won’t speak: but that does not bind me not to laugh at him!’ Poor soul! Till within a week of her death that gay heart never failed her; and her husband persisted doggedly, nay, furiously, in affirming her health improved every day. When Kenneth warned him that his medicines were useless at that stage of the malady, and he needn’t put him to further expense by attending her, he retorted, ‘I know you need not she’s well she does not want any more attendance from you! She never was in a consumption. It was a fever; and it is gone: her pulse is as slow as mine now, and her cheek as cool.’ He told his wife the same story, and she seemed to believe him; but one night, while leaning on his shoulder, in the act of saying she thought she should be able to get up to-morrow, a fit of coughing took her a very slight one he raised her in his arms; she put her two hands about his neck, her face changed, and she was dead. As the girl had anticipated, the child Hareton fell wholly into my hands. Mr. Earnshaw, provided he saw him healthy and never heard him cry, was contented, as far as regarded him. For himself, he grew desperate: his sorrow was of that kind that will not lament. He neither wept nor prayed; he cursed and defied: execrated God and man, and gave himself up to reckless dissipation. The servants could not bear his tyrannical and evil conduct long: Joseph and I were the only two that would stay. I had not the heart to leave my charge; and besides, you know, I had been his foster-sister, and excused his behaviour more readily than a stranger would. Joseph remained to hector over tenants and labourers; and because it was his vocation to be where he had plenty of wickedness to reprove. The master’s bad ways and bad companions formed a pretty example for Catherine and Heathcliff. His treatment of the latter was enough to make a fiend of a saint. And, truly, it appeared as if the lad WERE possessed of something diabolical at that period. He delighted to witness Hindley degrading himself past redemption; and became daily more notable for savage sullenness and ferocity. I could not half tell what an infernal house we had. The curate dropped calling, and nobody decent came near us, at last; unless Edgar Linton’s visits to Miss Cathy might be an exception. At fifteen she was the queen of the country-side; she had no peer; and she did turn out a haughty, headstrong creature! I own I did not like her, after infancy was past; and I vexed her frequently by trying to bring down her arrogance: she never took an aversion to me, though. She had a wondrous constancy to old attachments: even Heathcliff kept his hold on her affections unalterably; and young Linton, with all his superiority, found it difficult to make an equally deep impression. He was my late master: that is his portrait over the fireplace. It used to hang on one side, and his wife’s on the other; but hers has been removed, or else you might see something of what she was. Can you make that out? Mrs. Dean raised the candle, and I discerned a soft-featured face, exceedingly resembling the young lady at the Heights, but more pensive and amiable in expression. It formed a sweet picture. The long light hair curled slightly on the temples; the eyes were large and serious; the figure almost too graceful. I did not marvel how Catherine Earnshaw could forget her first friend for such an individual. I marvelled much how he, with a mind to correspond with his person, could fancy my idea of Catherine Earnshaw. ‘A very agreeable portrait,’ I observed to the house-keeper. ‘Is it like?’ ‘Yes,’ she answered; ‘but he looked better when he was animated; that is his everyday countenance: he wanted spirit in general.’ Catherine had kept up her acquaintance with the Lintons since her five-weeks’ residence among them; and as she had no temptation to show her rough side in their company, and had the sense to be ashamed of being rude where she experienced such invariable courtesy, she imposed unwittingly on the old lady and gentleman by her ingenious cordiality; gained the admiration of Isabella, and the heart and soul of her brother: acquisitions that flattered her from the first for she was full of ambition and led her to adopt a double character without exactly intending to deceive any one. In the place where she heard Heathcliff termed a ‘vulgar young ruffian,’ and ‘worse than a brute,’ she took care not to act like him; but at home she had small inclination to practise politeness that would only be laughed at, and restrain an unruly nature when it would bring her neither credit nor praise. Mr. Edgar seldom mustered courage to visit Wuthering Heights openly. He had a terror of Earnshaw’s reputation, and shrunk from encountering him; and yet he was always received with our best attempts at civility: the master himself avoided offending him, knowing why he came; and if he could not be gracious, kept out of the way. I rather think his appearance there was distasteful to Catherine; she was not artful, never played the coquette, and had evidently an objection to her two friends meeting at all; for when Heathcliff expressed contempt of Linton in his presence, she could not half coincide, as she did in his absence; and when Linton evinced disgust and antipathy to Heathcliff, she dared not treat his sentiments with indifference, as if depreciation of her playmate were of scarcely any consequence to her. I’ve had many a laugh at her perplexities and untold troubles, which she vainly strove to hide from my mockery. That sounds ill-natured: but she was so proud it became really impossible to pity her distresses, till she should be chastened into more humility. She did bring herself, finally, to confess, and to confide in me: there was not a soul else that she might fashion into an adviser. Mr. Hindley had gone from home one afternoon, and Heathcliff presumed to give himself a holiday on the strength of it. He had reached the age of sixteen then, I think, and without having bad features, or being deficient in intellect, he contrived to convey an impression of inward and outward repulsiveness that his present aspect retains no traces of. In the first place, he had by that time lost the benefit of his early education: continual hard work, begun soon and concluded late, had extinguished any curiosity he once possessed in pursuit of knowledge, and any love for books or learning. His childhood’s sense of superiority, instilled into him by the favours of old Mr. Earnshaw, was faded away. He struggled long to keep up an equality with Catherine in her studies, and yielded with poignant though silent regret: but he yielded completely; and there was no prevailing on him to take a step in the way of moving upward, when he found he must, necessarily, sink beneath his former level. Then personal appearance sympathised with mental deterioration: he acquired a slouching gait and ignoble look; his naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable moroseness; and he took a grim pleasure, apparently, in exciting the aversion rather than the esteem of his few acquaintance. Catherine and he were constant companions still at his seasons of respite from labour; but he had ceased to express his fondness for her in words, and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses, as if conscious there could be no gratification in lavishing such marks of affection on him. On the before-named occasion he came into the house to announce his intention of doing nothing, while I was assisting Miss Cathy to arrange her dress: she had not reckoned on his taking it into his head to be idle; and imagining she would have the whole place to herself, she managed, by some means, to inform Mr. Edgar of her brother’s absence, and was then preparing to receive him. ‘Cathy, are you busy this afternoon?’ asked Heathcliff. ‘Are you going anywhere?’ ‘No, it is raining,’ she answered. ‘Why have you that silk frock on, then?’ he said. ‘Nobody coming here, I hope?’ ‘Not that I know of,’ stammered Miss: ‘but you should be in the field now, Heathcliff. It is an hour past dinnertime: I thought you were gone.’ ‘Hindley does not often free us from his accursed presence,’ observed the boy. ‘I’ll not work any more to-day: I’ll stay with you.’ ‘Oh, but Joseph will tell,’ she suggested; ‘you’d better go!’ ‘Joseph is loading lime on the further side of Penistone Crags; it will take him till dark, and he’ll never know.’ So, saying, he lounged to the fire, and sat down. Catherine reflected an instant, with knitted brows she found it needful to smooth the way for an intrusion. ‘Isabella and Edgar Linton talked of calling this afternoon,’ she said, at the conclusion of a minute’s silence. ‘As it rains, I hardly expect them; but they may come, and if they do, you run the risk of being scolded for no good.’ ‘Order Ellen to say you are engaged, Cathy,’ he persisted; ‘don’t turn me out for those pitiful, silly friends of yours! I’m on the point, sometimes, of complaining that they but I’ll not ‘ ‘That they what?’ cried Catherine, gazing at him with a troubled countenance. ‘Oh, Nelly!’ she added petulantly, jerking her head away from my hands, ‘you’ve combed my hair quite out of curl! That’s enough; let me alone. What are you on the point of complaining about, Heathcliff?’ ‘Nothing only look at the almanack on that wall;’ he pointed to a framed sheet hanging near the window, and continued, ‘The crosses are for the evenings you have spent with the Lintons, the dots for those spent with me. Do you see? I’ve marked every day.’ ‘Yes very foolish: as if I took notice!’ replied Catherine, in a peevish tone. ‘And where is the sense of that?’ ‘To show that I DO take notice,’ said Heathcliff. ‘And should I always be sitting with you?’ she demanded, growing more irritated. ‘What good do I get? What do you talk about? You might be dumb, or a baby, for anything you say to amuse me, or for anything you do, either!’ ‘You never told me before that I talked too little, or that you disliked my company, Cathy!’ exclaimed Heathcliff, in much agitation. ‘It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered. Her companion rose up, but he hadn’t time to express his feelings further, for a horse’s feet were heard on the flags, and having knocked gently, young Linton entered, his face brilliant with delight at the unexpected summon she had received. Doubtless Catherine marked the difference between her friends, as one came in and the other went out. The contrast resembled what you see in exchanging a bleak, hilly, coal country for a beautiful fertile valley; and his voice and greeting were as opposite as his aspect. He had a sweet, low manner of speaking, and pronounced his words as you do: that’s less gruff than we talk here, and softer. ‘I’m not come too soon, am I?’ he said, casting a look at me: I had begun to wipe the plate, and tidy some drawers at the far end in the dresser. ‘No,’ answered Catherine. ‘What are you doing there, Nelly?’ ‘My work, Miss,’ I replied. (Mr. Hindley had given me directions to make a third party in any private visits Linton chose to pay.) She stepped behind me and whispered crossly, ‘Take yourself and your dusters off; when company are in the house, servants don’t commence scouring and cleaning in the room where they are!’ ‘It’s a good opportunity, now that master is away,’ I answered aloud: ‘he hates me to be fidgeting over these things in his presence. I’m sure Mr. Edgar will excuse me.’ ‘I hate you to be fidgeting in MY presence,’ exclaimed the young lady imperiously, not allowing her guest time to speak: she had failed to recover her equanimity since the little dispute with Heathcliff. ‘I’m sorry for it, Miss Catherine,’ was my response; and I proceeded assiduously with my occupation. She, supposing Edgar could not see her, snatched the cloth from my hand, and pinched me, with a prolonged wrench, very spitefully on the arm. I’ve said I did not love her, and rather relished mortifying her vanity now and then: besides, she hurt me extremely; so I started up from my knees, and screamed out, ‘Oh, Miss, that’s a nasty trick! You have no right to nip me, and I’m not going to bear it.’ ‘I didn’t touch you, you lying creature!’ cried she, her fingers tingling to repeat the act, and her ears red with rage. She never had power to conceal her passion, it always set her whole complexion in a blaze. ‘What’s that, then?’ I retorted, showing a decided purple witness to refute her. She stamped her foot, wavered a moment, and then, irresistibly impelled by the naughty spirit within her, slapped me on the cheek: a stinging blow that filled both eyes with water. ‘Catherine, love! Catherine!’ interposed Linton, greatly shocked at the double fault of falsehood and violence which his idol had committed. ‘Leave the room, Ellen!’ she repeated, trembling all over. Little Hareton, who followed me everywhere, and was sitting near me on the floor, at seeing my tears commenced crying himself, and sobbed out complaints against ‘wicked aunt Cathy,’ which drew her fury on to his unlucky head: she seized his shoulders, and shook him till the poor child waxed livid, and Edgar thoughtlessly laid hold of her hands to deliver him. In an instant one was wrung free, and the astonished young man felt it applied over his own ear in a way that could not be mistaken for jest. He drew back in consternation. I lifted Hareton in my arms, and walked off to the kitchen with him, leaving the door of communication open, for I was curious to watch how they would settle their disagreement. The insulted visitor moved to the spot where he had laid his hat, pale and with a quivering lip. ‘That’s right!’ I said to myself. ‘Take warning and begone! It’s a kindness to let you have a glimpse of her genuine disposition.’ ‘Where are you going?’ demanded Catherine, advancing to the door. He swerved aside, and attempted to pass. ‘You must not go!’ she exclaimed, energetically. ‘I must and shall!’ he replied in a subdued voice. ‘No,’ she persisted, grasping the handle; ‘not yet, Edgar Linton: sit down; you shall not leave me in that temper. I should be miserable all night, and I won’t be miserable for you!’ ‘Can I stay after you have struck me?’ asked Linton. Catherine was mute. ‘You’ve made me afraid and ashamed of you,’ he continued; ‘I’ll not come here again!’ Her eyes began to glisten and her lids to twinkle. ‘And you told a deliberate untruth!’ he said. ‘I didn’t!’ she cried, recovering her speech; ‘I did nothing deliberately. Well, go, if you please get away! And now I’ll cry I’ll cry myself sick!’ She dropped down on her knees by a chair, and set to weeping in serious earnest. Edgar persevered in his resolution as far as the court; there he lingered. I resolved to encourage him. ‘Miss is dreadfully wayward, sir,’ I called out. ‘As bad as any marred child: you’d better be riding home, or else she will be sick, only to grieve us.’ The soft thing looked askance through the window: he possessed the power to depart as much as a cat possesses the power to leave a mouse half killed, or a bird half eaten. Ah, I thought, there will be no saving him: he’s doomed, and flies to his fate! And so it was: he turned abruptly, hastened into the house again, shut the door behind him; and when I went in a while after to inform them that Earnshaw had come home rabid drunk, ready to pull the whole place about our ears (his ordinary frame of mind in that condition), I saw the quarrel had merely effected a closer intimacy had broken the outworks of youthful timidity, and enabled them to forsake the disguise of friendship, and confess themselves lovers. Intelligence of Mr. Hindley’s arrival drove Linton speedily to his horse, and Catherine to her chamber. I went to hide little Hareton, and to take the shot out of the master’s fowling-piece, which he was fond of playing with in his insane excitement, to the hazard of the lives of any who provoked, or even attracted his notice too much; and I had hit upon the plan of removing it, that he might do less mischief if he did go the length of firing the gun. Chapter IX HE entered, vociferating oaths dreadful to hear; and caught me in the act of stowing his son sway in the kitchen cupboard. Hareton was impressed with a wholesome terror of encountering either his wild beast’s fondness or his madman’s rage; for in one he ran a chance of being squeezed and kissed to death, and in the other of being flung into the fire, or dashed against the wall; and the poor thing remained perfectly quiet wherever I chose to put him. ‘There, I’ve found it out at last!’ cried Hindley, pulling me back by the skin of my neck, like a dog. ‘By heaven and hell, you’ve sworn between you to murder that child! I know how it is, now, that he is always out of my way. But, with the help of Satan, I shall make you swallow the carving-knife, Nelly! You needn’t laugh; for I’ve just crammed Kenneth, head-downmost, in the Blackhorse marsh; and two is the same as one and I want to kill some of you: I shall have no rest till I do!’ ‘But I don’t like the carving-knife, Mr. Hindley,’ I answered; ‘it has been cutting red herrings. I’d rather be shot, if you please.’ ‘You’d rather be damned!’ he said; ‘and so you shall. No law in England can hinder a man from keeping his house decent, and mine’s abominable! Open your mouth.’ He held the knife in his hand, and pushed its point between my teeth: but, for my part, I was never much afraid of his vagaries. I spat out, and affirmed it tasted detestably I would not take it on any account. ‘Oh!’ said he, releasing me, ‘I see that hideous little villain is not Hareton: I beg your pardon, Nell. If it be, he deserves flaying alive for not running to welcome me, and for screaming as if I were a goblin. Unnatural cub, come hither! I’ll teach thee to impose on a good-hearted, deluded father. Now, don’t you think the lad would be handsomer cropped? It makes a dog fiercer, and I love something fierce get me a scissors something fierce and trim! Besides, it’s infernal affectation devilish conceit it is, to cherish our ears we’re asses enough without them. Hush, child, hush! Well then, it is my darling! wisht, dry thy eyes there’s a joy; kiss me. What! it won’t? Kiss me, Hareton! Damn thee, kiss me! By God, as if I would rear such a monster! As sure as I’m living, I’ll break the brat’s neck.’ Poor Hareton was squalling and kicking in his father’s arms with all his might, and redoubled his yells when he carried him upstairs and lifted him over the banister. I cried out that he would frighten the child into fits, and ran to rescue him. As I reached them, Hindley leant forward on the rails to listen to a noise below; almost forgetting what he had in his hands. ‘Who is that?’ he asked, hearing some one approaching the stairs’-foot. I leant forward also, for the purpose of signing to Heathcliff, whose step I recognised, not to come further; and, at the instant when my eye quitted Hareton, he gave a sudden spring, delivered himself from the careless grasp that held him, and fell. There was scarcely time to experience a thrill of horror before we saw that the little wretch was safe. Heathcliff arrived underneath just at the critical moment; by a natural impulse he arrested his descent, and setting him on his feet, looked up to discover the author of the accident. A miser who has parted with a lucky lottery ticket for five shillings, and finds next day he has lost in the bargain five thousand pounds, could not show a blanker countenance than he did on beholding the figure of Mr. Earnshaw above. It expressed, plainer than words could do, the intensest anguish at having made himself the instrument of thwarting his own revenge. Had it been dark, I daresay he would have tried to remedy the mistake by smashing Hareton’s skull on the steps; but, we witnessed his salvation; and I was presently below with my precious charge pressed to my heart. Hindley descended more leisurely, sobered and abashed. ‘It is your fault, Ellen,’ he said; ‘you should have kept him out of sight: you should have taken him from me! Is he injured anywhere?’ ‘Injured!’ I cried angrily; ‘if he is not killed, he’ll be an idiot! I wonder his mother does not rise from her grave to see how you use him. You’re worse than a heathen treating your own flesh and blood in that manner!’ He attempted to touch the child, who, on finding himself with me, sobbed off his terror directly. At the first finger his father laid on him, however, he shrieked again louder than before, and struggled as if he would go into convulsions. ‘You shall not meddle with him!’ I continued. ‘He hates you they all hate you that’s the truth! A happy family you have; and a pretty state you’re come to!’ ‘I shall come to a prettier, yet, Nelly,’ laughed the misguided man, recovering his hardness. ‘At present, convey yourself and him away. And hark you, Heathcliff! clear you too quite from my reach and hearing. I wouldn’t murder you to-night; unless, perhaps, I set the house on fire: but that’s as my fancy goes.’ While saying this he took a pint bottle of brandy from the dresser, and poured some into a tumbler. ‘Nay, don’t!’ I entreated. ‘Mr. Hindley, do take warning. Have mercy on this unfortunate boy, if you care nothing for yourself!’ ‘Any one will do better for him than I shall,’ he answered. ‘Have mercy on your own soul!’ I said, endeavouring to snatch the glass from his hand. ‘Not I! On the contrary, I shall have great pleasure in sending it to perdition to punish its Maker,’ exclaimed the blasphemer. ‘Here’s to its hearty damnation!’ He drank the spirits and impatiently bade us go; terminating his command with a sequel of horrid imprecations too bad to repeat or remember. ‘It’s a pity he cannot kill himself with drink,’ observed Heathcliff, muttering an echo of curses back when the door was shut. ‘He’s doing his very utmost; but his constitution defies him. Mr. Kenneth says he would wager his mare that he’ll outlive any man on this side Gimmerton, and go to the grave a hoary sinner; unless some happy chance out of the common course befall him.’ I went into the kitchen, and sat down to lull my little lamb to sleep. Heathcliff, as I thought, walked through to the barn. It turned out afterwards that he only got as far as the other side the settle, when he flung himself on a bench by the wall, removed from the fire and remained silent. I was rocking Hareton on my knee, and humming a song that began, - It was far in the night, and the bairnies grat, The mither beneath the mools heard that, when Miss Cathy, who had listened to the hubbub from her room, put her head in, and whispered, ‘Are you alone, Nelly?’ ‘Yes, Miss,’ I replied. She entered and approached the hearth. I, supposing she was going to say something, looked up. The expression of her face seemed disturbed and anxious. Her lips were half asunder, as if she meant to speak, and she drew a breath; but it escaped in a sigh instead of a sentence. I resumed my song; not having forgotten her recent behaviour. ‘Where’s Heathcliff?’ she said, interrupting me. ‘About his work in the stable,’ was my answer. He did not contradict me; perhaps he had fallen into a doze. There followed another long pause, during which I perceived a drop or two trickle from Catherine’s cheek to the flags. Is she sorry for her shameful conduct? I asked myself. That will be a novelty: but she may come to the point as she will I sha’n’t help her! No, she felt small trouble regarding any subject, save her own concerns. ‘Oh, dear!’ she cried at last. ‘I’m very unhappy!’ ‘A pity,’ observed I. ‘You’re hard to please; so many friends and so few cares, and can’t make yourself content!’ ‘Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?’ she pursued, kneeling down by me, and lifting her winsome eyes to my face with that sort of look which turns off bad temper, even when one has all the right in the world to indulge it. ‘Is it worth keeping?’ I inquired, less sulkily. ‘Yes, and it worries me, and I must let it out! I want to know what I should do. To-day, Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I’ve given him an answer. Now, before I tell you whether it was a consent or denial, you tell me which it ought to have been.’ ‘Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know?’ I replied. ‘To be sure, considering the exhibition you performed in his presence this afternoon, I might say it would be wise to refuse him: since he asked you after that, he must either be hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool.’ ‘If you talk so, I won’t tell you any more,’ she returned, peevishly rising to her feet. ‘I accepted him, Nelly. Be quick, and say whether I was wrong!’ ‘You accepted him! Then what good is it discussing the matter? You have pledged your word, and cannot retract.’ ‘But say whether I should have done so do!’ she exclaimed in an irritated tone; chafing her hands together, and frowning. ‘There are many things to be considered before that question can be answered properly,’ I said, sententiously. ‘First and foremost, do you love Mr. Edgar?’ ‘Who can help it? Of course I do,’ she answered. Then I put her through the following catechism: for a girl of twenty-two it was not injudicious. ‘Why do you love him, Miss Cathy?’ ‘Nonsense, I do that’s sufficient.’ ‘By no means; you must say why?’ ‘Well, because he is handsome, and pleasant to be with.’ ‘Bad!’ was my commentary. ‘And because he is young and cheerful.’ ‘Bad, still.’ ‘And because he loves me.’ ‘Indifferent, coming there.’ ‘And he will be rich, and I shall like to be the greatest woman of the neighbourhood, and I shall be proud of having such a husband.’ ‘Worst of all. And now, say how you love him?’ ‘As everybody loves You’re silly, Nelly.’ ‘Not at all Answer.’ ‘I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches, and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions, and him entirely and altogether. There now!’ ‘And why?’ ‘Nay; you are making a jest of it: it is exceedingly ill-natured! It’s no jest to me!’ said the young lady, scowling, and turning her face to the fire. ‘I’m very far from jesting, Miss Catherine,’ I replied. ‘You love Mr. Edgar because he is handsome, and young, and cheerful, and rich, and loves you. The last, however, goes for nothing: you would love him without that, probably; and with it you wouldn’t, unless he possessed the four former attractions.’ ‘No, to be sure not: I should only pity him hate him, perhaps, if he were ugly, and a clown.’ ‘But there are several other handsome, rich young men in the world: handsomer, possibly, and richer than he is. What should hinder you from loving them?’ ‘If there be any, they are out of my way: I’ve seen none like Edgar.’ ‘You may see some; and he won’t always be handsome, and young, and may not always be rich.’ ‘He is now; and I have only to do with the present. I wish you would speak rationally.’ ‘Well, that settles it: if you have only to do with the present, marry Mr. Linton.’ ‘I don’t want your permission for that I SHALL marry him: and yet you have not told me whether I’m right.’ ‘Perfectly right; if people be right to marry only for the present. And now, let us hear what you are unhappy about. Your brother will be pleased; the old lady and gentleman will not object, I think; you will escape from a disorderly, comfortless home into a wealthy, respectable one; and you love Edgar, and Edgar loves you. All seems smooth and easy: where is the obstacle?’ ‘HERE! and HERE!’ replied Catherine, striking one hand on her forehead, and the other on her breast: ‘in whichever place the soul lives. In my soul and in my heart, I’m convinced I’m wrong!’ ‘That’s very strange! I cannot make it out.’ ‘It’s my secret. But if you will not mock at me, I’ll explain it: I can’t do it distinctly; but I’ll give you a feeling of how I feel.’ She seated herself by me again: her countenance grew sadder and graver, and her clasped hands trembled. ‘Nelly, do you never dream queer dreams?’ she said, suddenly, after some minutes’ reflection. ‘Yes, now and then,’ I answered. ‘And so do I. I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind. And this is one: I’m going to tell it but take care not to smile at any part of it.’ ‘Oh! don’t, Miss Catherine!’ I cried. ‘We’re dismal enough without conjuring up ghosts and visions to perplex us. Come, come, be merry and like yourself! Look at little Hareton! HE’S dreaming nothing dreary. How sweetly he smiles in his sleep!’ ‘Yes; and how sweetly his father curses in his solitude! You remember him, I daresay, when he was just such another as that chubby thing: nearly as young and innocent. However, Nelly, I shall oblige you to listen: it’s not long; and I’ve no power to be merry to-night.’ ‘I won’t hear it, I won’t hear it!’ I repeated, hastily. I was superstitious about dreams then, and am still; and Catherine had an unusual gloom in her aspect, that made me dread something from which I might shape a prophecy, and foresee a fearful catastrophe. She was vexed, but she did not proceed. Apparently taking up another subject, she recommenced in a short time. ‘If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely miserable.’ ‘Because you are not fit to go there,’ I answered. ‘All sinners would be miserable in heaven.’ ‘But it is not for that. I dreamt once that I was there.’ ‘I tell you I won’t hearken to your dreams, Miss Catherine! I’ll go to bed,’ I interrupted again. She laughed, and held me down; for I made a motion to leave my chair. ‘This is nothing,’ cried she: ‘I was only going to say that heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the other. I’ve no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven; and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low, I shouldn’t have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he’s handsome, Nelly, but because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton’s is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.’ Ere this speech ended I became sensible of Heathcliff’s presence. Having noticed a slight movement, I turned my head, and saw him rise from the bench, and steal out noiselessly. He had listened till he heard Catherine say it would degrade her to marry him, and then he stayed to hear no further. My companion, sitting on the ground, was prevented by the back of the settle from remarking his presence or departure; but I started, and bade her hush! ‘Why?’ she asked, gazing nervously round. ‘Joseph is here,’ I answered, catching opportunely the roll of his cartwheels up the road; ‘and Heathcliff will come in with him. I’m not sure whether he were not at the door this moment.’ ‘Oh, he couldn’t overhear me at the door!’ said she. ‘Give me Hareton, while you get the supper, and when it is ready ask me to sup with you. I want to cheat my uncomfortable conscience, and be convinced that Heathcliff has no notion of these things. He has not, has he? He does not know what being in love is!’ ‘I see no reason that he should not know, as well as you,’ I returned; ‘and if you are his choice, he’ll be the most unfortunate creature that ever was born! As soon as you become Mrs. Linton, he loses friend, and love, and all! Have you considered how you’ll bear the separation, and how he’ll bear to be quite deserted in the world? Because, Miss Catherine ‘ ‘He quite deserted! we separated!’ she exclaimed, with an accent of indignation. ‘Who is to separate us, pray? They’ll meet the fate of Milo! Not as long as I live, Ellen: for no mortal creature. Every Linton on the face of the earth might melt into nothing before I could consent to forsake Heathcliff. Oh, that’s not what I intend that’s not what I mean! I shouldn’t be Mrs. Linton were such a price demanded! He’ll be as much to me as he has been all his lifetime. Edgar must shake off his antipathy, and tolerate him, at least. He will, when he learns my true feelings towards him. Nelly, I see now you think me a selfish wretch; but did it never strike you that if Heathcliff and I married, we should be beggars? whereas, if I marry Linton I can aid Heathcliff to rise, and place him out of my brother’s power.’ ‘With your husband’s money, Miss Catherine?’ I asked. ‘You’ll find him not so pliable as you calculate upon: and, though I’m hardly a judge, I think that’s the worst motive you’ve given yet for being the wife of young Linton.’ ‘It is not,’ retorted she; ‘it is the best! The others were the satisfaction of my whims: and for Edgar’s sake, too, to satisfy him. This is for the sake of one who comprehends in his person my feelings to Edgar and myself. I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff’s miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and HE remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I AM Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. So don’t talk of our separation again: it is impracticable; and ‘ She paused, and hid her face in the folds of my gown; but I jerked it forcibly away. I was out of patience with her folly! ‘If I can make any sense of your nonsense, Miss,’ I said, ‘it only goes to convince me that you are ignorant of the duties you undertake in marrying; or else that you are a wicked, unprincipled girl. But trouble me with no more secrets: I’ll not promise to keep them.’ ‘You’ll keep that?’ she asked, eagerly. ‘No, I’ll not promise,’ I repeated. She was about to insist, when the entrance of Joseph finished our conversation; and Catherine removed her seat to a corner, and nursed Hareton, while I made the supper. After it was cooked, my fellow-servant and I began to quarrel who should carry some to Mr. Hindley; and we didn’t settle it till all was nearly cold. Then we came to the agreement that we would let him ask, if he wanted any; for we feared particularly to go into his presence when he had been some time alone. ‘And how isn’t that nowt comed in fro’ th’ field, be this time? What is he about? girt idle seeght!’ demanded the old man, looking round for Heathcliff. ‘I’ll call him,’ I replied. ‘He’s in the barn, I’ve no doubt.’ I went and called, but got no answer. On returning, I whispered to Catherine that he had heard a good part of what she said, I was sure; and told how I saw him quit the kitchen just as she complained of her brother’s conduct regarding him. She jumped up in a fine fright, flung Hareton on to the settle, and ran to seek for her friend herself; not taking leisure to consider why she was so flurried, or how her talk would have affected him. She was absent such a while that Joseph proposed we should wait no longer. He cunningly conjectured they were staying away in order to avoid hearing his protracted blessing. They were ‘ill eneugh for ony fahl manners,’ he affirmed. And on their behalf he added that night a special prayer to the usual quarter-of-an-hour’s supplication before meat, and would have tacked another to the end of the grace, had not his young mistress broken in upon him with a hurried command that he must run down the road, and, wherever Heathcliff had rambled, find and make him re-enter directly! ‘I want to speak to him, and I MUST, before I go upstairs,’ she said. ‘And the gate is open: he is somewhere out of hearing; for he would not reply, though I shouted at the top of the fold as loud as I could.’ Joseph objected at first; she was too much in earnest, however, to suffer contradiction; and at last he placed his hat on his head, and walked grumbling forth. Meantime, Catherine paced up and down the floor, exclaiming ‘I wonder where he is I wonder where he can be! What did I say, Nelly? I’ve forgotten. Was he vexed at my bad humour this afternoon? Dear! tell me what I’ve said to grieve him? I do wish he’d come. I do wish he would!’ ‘What a noise for nothing!’ I cried, though rather uneasy myself. ‘What a trifle scares you! It’s surely no great cause of alarm that Heathcliff should take a moonlight saunter on the moors, or even lie too sulky to speak to us in the hay-loft. I’ll engage he’s lurking there. See if I don’t ferret him out!’ I departed to renew my search; its result was disappointment, and Joseph’s quest ended in the same. ‘Yon lad gets war und war!’ observed he on re-entering. ‘He’s left th’ gate at t’ full swing, and Miss’s pony has trodden dahn two rigs o’ corn, and plottered through, raight o’er into t’ meadow! Hahsomdiver, t’ maister ‘ull play t’ devil to-morn, and he’ll do weel. He’s patience itsseln wi’ sich careless, offald craters patience itsseln he is! Bud he’ll not be soa allus yah’s see, all on ye! Yah mun’n’t drive him out of his heead for nowt!’ ‘Have you found Heathcliff, you ass?’ interrupted Catherine. ‘Have you been looking for him, as I ordered?’ ‘I sud more likker look for th’ horse,’ he replied. ‘It ‘ud be to more sense. Bud I can look for norther horse nur man of a neeght loike this as black as t’ chimbley! und Heathcliff’s noan t’ chap to coom at MY whistle happen he’ll be less hard o’ hearing wi’ YE!’ It WAS a very dark evening for summer: the clouds appeared inclined to thunder, and I said we had better all sit down; the approaching rain would be certain to bring him home without further trouble. However, Catherine would hot be persuaded into tranquillity. She kept wandering to and fro, from the gate to the door, in a state of agitation which permitted no repose; and at length took up a permanent situation on one side of the wall, near the road: where, heedless of my expostulations and the growling thunder, and the great drops that began to plash around her, she remained, calling at intervals, and then listening, and then crying outright. She beat Hareton, or any child, at a good passionate fit of crying. About midnight, while we still sat up, the storm came rattling over the Heights in full fury. There was a violent wind, as well as thunder, and either one or the other split a tree off at the corner of the building: a huge bough fell across the roof, and knocked down a portion of the east chimney-stack, sending a clatter of stones and soot into the kitchen-fire. We thought a bolt had fallen in the middle of us; and Joseph swung on to his knees, beseeching the Lord to remember the patriarchs Noah and Lot, and, as in former times, spare the righteous, though he smote the ungodly. I felt some sentiment that it must be a judgment on us also. The Jonah, in my mind, was Mr. Earnshaw; and I shook the handle of his den that I might ascertain if he were yet living. He replied audibly enough, in a fashion which made my companion vociferate, more clamorously than before, that a wide distinction might be drawn between saints like himself and sinners like his master. But the uproar passed away in twenty minutes, leaving us all unharmed; excepting Cathy, who got thoroughly drenched for her obstinacy in refusing to take shelter, and standing bonnetless and shawl-less to catch as much water as she could with her hair and clothes. She came in and lay down on the settle, all soaked as she was, turning her face to the back, and putting her hands before it. ‘Well, Miss!’ I exclaimed, touching her shoulder; ‘you are not bent on getting your death, are you? Do you know what o’clock it is? Half-past twelve. Come, come to bed! there’s no use waiting any longer on that foolish boy: he’ll be gone to Gimmerton, and he’ll stay there now. He guesses we shouldn’t wait for him till this late hour: at least, he guesses that only Mr. Hindley would be up; and he’d rather avoid having the door opened by the master.’ ‘Nay, nay, he’s noan at Gimmerton,’ said Joseph. ‘I’s niver wonder but he’s at t’ bothom of a bog-hoile. This visitation worn’t for nowt, and I wod hev’ ye to look out, Miss yah muh be t’ next. Thank Hivin for all! All warks togither for gooid to them as is chozzen, and piked out fro’ th’ rubbidge! Yah knaw whet t’ Scripture ses.’ And he began quoting several texts, referring us to chapters and verses where we might find them. I, having vainly begged the wilful girl to rise and remove her wet things, left him preaching and her shivering, and betook myself to bed with little Hareton, who slept as fast as if everyone had been sleeping round him. I heard Joseph read on a while afterwards; then I distinguished his slow step on the ladder, and then I dropped asleep. Coming down somewhat later than usual, I saw, by the sunbeams piercing the chinks of the shutters, Miss Catherine still seated near the fireplace. The house-door was ajar, too; light entered from its unclosed windows; Hindley had come out, and stood on the kitchen hearth, haggard and drowsy. ‘What ails you, Cathy?’ he was saying when I entered: ‘you look as dismal as a drowned whelp. Why are you so damp and pale, child?’ ‘I’ve been wet,’ she answered reluctantly, ‘and I’m cold, that’s all.’ ‘Oh, she is naughty!’ I cried, perceiving the master to be tolerably sober. ‘She got steeped in the shower of yesterday evening, and there she has sat the night through, and I couldn’t prevail on her to stir.’ Mr. Earnshaw stared at us in surprise. ‘The night through,’ he repeated. ‘What kept her up? not fear of the thunder, surely? That was over hours since.’ Neither of us wished to mention Heathcliff’s absence, as long as we could conceal it; so I replied, I didn’t know how she took it into her head to sit up; and she said nothing. The morning was fresh and cool; I threw back the lattice, and presently the room filled with sweet scents from the garden; but Catherine called peevishly to me, ‘Ellen, shut the window. I’m starving!’ And her teeth chattered as she shrank closer to the almost extinguished embers. ‘She’s ill,’ said Hindley, taking her wrist; ‘I suppose that’s the reason she would not go to bed. Damn it! I don’t want to be troubled with more sickness here. What took you into the rain?’ ‘Running after t’ lads, as usuald!’ croaked Joseph, catching an opportunity from our hesitation to thrust in his evil tongue. ‘If I war yah, maister, I’d just slam t’ boards i’ their faces all on ‘em, gentle and simple! Never a day ut yah’re off, but yon cat o’ Linton comes sneaking hither; and Miss Nelly, shoo’s a fine lass! shoo sits watching for ye i’ t’ kitchen; and as yah’re in at one door, he’s out at t’other; and, then, wer grand lady goes acourting of her side! It’s bonny behaviour, lurking amang t’ fields, after twelve o’ t’ night, wi’ that fahl, flaysome divil of a gipsy, Heathcliff! They think I’M blind; but I’m noan: nowt ut t’ soart! I seed young Linton boath coming and going, and I seed YAH’ (directing his discourse to me), ‘yah gooid fur nowt, slattenly witch! nip up and bolt into th’ house, t’ minute yah heard t’ maister’s horse-fit clatter up t’ road.’ ‘Silence, eavesdropper!’ cried Catherine; ‘none of your insolence before me! Edgar Linton came yesterday by chance, Hindley; and it was I who told him to be off: because I knew you would not like to have met him as you were.’ ‘You lie, Cathy, no doubt,’ answered her brother, ‘and you are a confounded simpleton! But never mind Linton at present: tell me, were you not with Heathcliff last night? Speak the truth, now. You need not he afraid of harming him: though I hate him as much as ever, he did me a good turn a short time since that will make my conscience tender of breaking his neck. To prevent it, I shall send him about his business this very morning; and after he’s gone, I’d advise you all to look sharp: I shall only have the more humour for you.’ ‘I never saw Heathcliff last night,’ answered Catherine, beginning to sob bitterly: ‘and if you do turn him out of doors, I’ll go with him. But, perhaps, you’ll never have an opportunity: perhaps, he’s gone.’ Here she burst into uncontrollable grief, and the remainder of her words were inarticulate. Hindley lavished on her a torrent of scornful abuse, and bade her get to her room immediately, or she shouldn’t cry for nothing! I obliged her to obey; and I shall never forget what a scene she acted when we reached her chamber: it terrified me. I thought she was going mad, and I begged Joseph to run for the doctor. It proved the commencement of delirium: Mr. Kenneth, as soon as he saw her, pronounced her dangerously ill; she had a fever. He bled her, and he told me to let her live on whey and water-gruel, and take care she did not throw herself downstairs or out of the window; and then he left: for he had enough to do in the parish, where two or three miles was the ordinary distance between cottage and cottage. Though I cannot say I made a gentle nurse, and Joseph and the master were no better, and though our patient was as wearisome and headstrong as a patient could be, she weathered it through. Old Mrs. Linton paid us several visits, to be sure, and set things to rights, and scolded and ordered us all; and when Catherine was convalescent, she insisted on conveying her to Thrushcross Grange: for which deliverance we were very grateful. But the poor dame had reason to repent of her kindness: she and her husband both took the fever, and died within a few days of each other. Our young lady returned to us saucier and more passionate, and haughtier than ever. Heathcliff had never been heard of since the evening of the thunder-storm; and, one day, I had the misfortune, when she had provoked me exceedingly, to lay the blame of his disappearance on her: where indeed it belonged, as she well knew. From that period, for several months, she ceased to hold any communication with me, save in the relation of a mere servant. Joseph fell under a ban also: he would speak his mind, and lecture her all the same as if she were a little girl; and she esteemed herself a woman, and our mistress, and thought that her recent illness gave her a claim to be treated with consideration. Then the doctor had said that she would not bear crossing much; she ought to have her own way; and it was nothing less than murder in her eyes for any one to presume to stand up and contradict her. From Mr. Earnshaw and his companions she kept aloof; and tutored by Kenneth, and serious threats of a fit that often attended her rages, her brother allowed her whatever she pleased to demand, and generally avoided aggravating her fiery temper. He was rather too indulgent in humouring her caprices; not from affection, but from pride: he wished earnestly to see her bring honour to the family by an alliance with the Lintons, and as long as she let him alone she might trample on us like slaves, for aught he cared! Edgar Linton, as multitudes have been before and will be after him, was infatuated: and believed himself the happiest man alive on the day he led her to Gimmerton Chapel, three years subsequent to his father’s death. Much against my inclination, I was persuaded to leave Wuthering Heights and accompany her here, Little Hareton was nearly five years old, and I had just begun to teach him his letters. We made a sad parting; but Catherine’s tears were more powerful than ours. When I refused to go, and when she found her entreaties did not move me, she went lamenting to her husband and brother. The former offered me munificent wages; the latter ordered me to pack up: he wanted no women in the house, he said, now that there was no mistress; and as to Hareton, the curate should take him in hand, by-and-by. And so I had but one choice left: to do as I was ordered. I told the master he got rid of all decent people only to run to ruin a little faster; I kissed Hareton, said good-by; and since then he has been a stranger: and it’s very queer to think it, but I’ve no doubt he has completely forgotten all about Ellen Dean, and that he was ever more than all the world to her and she to him! At this point of the housekeeper’s story she chanced to glance towards the time-piece over the chimney; and was in amazement on seeing the minute-hand measure half-past one. She would not hear of staying a second longer: in truth, I felt rather disposed to defer the sequel of her narrative myself. And now that she is vanished to her rest, and I have meditated for another hour or two, I shall summon courage to go also, in spite of aching laziness of head and limbs. Chapter X A CHARMING introduction to a hermit’s life! Four weeks’ torture, tossing, and sickness! Oh, these bleak winds and bitter northern skies, and impassable roads, and dilatory country surgeons! And oh, this dearth of the human physiognomy! and, worse than all, the terrible intimation of Kenneth that I need not expect to be out of doors till spring! Mr. Heathcliff has just honoured me with a call. About seven days ago he sent me a brace of grouse the last of the season. Scoundrel! He is not altogether guiltless in this illness of mine; and that I had a great mind to tell him. But, alas! how could I offend a man who was charitable enough to sit at my bedside a good hour, and talk on some other subject than pills and draughts, blisters and leeches? This is quite an easy interval. I am too weak to read; yet I feel as if I could enjoy something interesting. Why not have up Mrs. Dean to finish her tale? I can recollect its chief incidents, as far as she had gone. Yes: I remember her hero had run off, and never been heard of for three years; and the heroine was married. I’ll ring: she’ll be delighted to find me capable of talking cheerfully. Mrs. Dean came. ‘It wants twenty minutes, sir, to taking the medicine,’ she commenced. ‘Away, away with it!’ I replied; ‘I desire to have ‘ ‘The doctor says you must drop the powders.’ ‘With all my heart! Don’t interrupt me. Come and take your seat here. Keep your fingers from that bitter phalanx of vials. Draw your knitting out of your pocket that will do now continue the history of Mr. Heathcliff, from where you left off, to the present day. Did he finish his education on the Continent, and come back a gentleman? or did he get a sizar’s place at college, or escape to America, and earn honours by drawing blood from his foster-country? or make a fortune more promptly on the English highways?’ ‘He may have done a little in all these vocations, Mr. Lockwood; but I couldn’t give my word for any. I stated before that I didn’t know how he gained his money; neither am I aware of the means he took to raise his mind from the savage ignorance into which it was sunk: but, with your leave, I’ll proceed in my own fashion, if you think it will amuse and not weary you. Are you feeling better this morning?’ ‘Much.’ ‘That’s good news.’ I got Miss Catherine and myself to Thrushcross Grange; and, to my agreeable disappointment, she behaved infinitely better than I dared to expect. She seemed almost over-fond of Mr. Linton; and even to his sister she showed plenty of affection. They were both very attentive to her comfort, certainly. It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn. There were no mutual concessions: one stood erect, and the others yielded: and who can be ill-natured and bad-tempered when they encounter neither opposition nor indifference? I observed that Mr. Edgar had a deep-rooted fear of ruffling her humour. He concealed it from her; but if ever he heard me answer sharply, or saw any other servant grow cloudy at some imperious order of hers, he would show his trouble by a frown of displeasure that never darkened on his own account. He many a time spoke sternly to me about my pertness; and averred that the stab of a knife could not inflict a worse pang than he suffered at seeing his lady vexed. Not to grieve a kind master, I learned to be less touchy; and, for the space of half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless as sand, because no fire came near to explode it. Catherine had seasons of gloom and silence now and then: they were respected with sympathising silence by her husband, who ascribed them to an alteration in her constitution, produced by her perilous illness; as she was never subject to depression of spirits before. The return of sunshine was welcomed by answering sunshine from him. I believe I may assert that they were really in possession of deep and growing happiness. It ended. Well, we MUST be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering; and it ended when circumstances caused each to feel that the one’s interest was not the chief consideration in the other’s thoughts. On a mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a heavy basket of apples which I had been gathering. It had got dusk, and the moon looked over the high wall of the court, causing undefined shadows to lurk in the corners of the numerous projecting portions of the building. I set my burden on the house-steps by the kitchen-door, and lingered to rest, and drew in a few more breaths of the soft, sweet air; my eyes were on the moon, and my back to the entrance, when I heard a voice behind me say, ‘Nelly, is that you?’ It was a deep voice, and foreign in tone; yet there was something in the manner of pronouncing my name which made it sound familiar. I turned about to discover who spoke, fearfully; for the doors were shut, and I had seen nobody on approaching the steps. Something stirred in the porch; and, moving nearer, I distinguished a tall man dressed in dark clothes, with dark face and hair. He leant against the side, and held his fingers on the latch as if intending to open for himself. ‘Who can it be?’ I thought. ‘Mr. Earnshaw? Oh, no! The voice has no resemblance to his.’ ‘I have waited here an hour,’ he resumed, while I continued staring; ‘and the whole of that time all round has been as still as death. I dared not enter. You do not know me? Look, I’m not a stranger!’ A ray fell on his features; the cheeks were sallow, and half covered with black whiskers; the brows lowering, the eyes deep-set and singular. I remembered the eyes. ‘What!’ I cried, uncertain whether to regard him as a worldly visitor, and I raised my hands in amazement. ‘What! you come back? Is it really you? Is it?’ ‘Yes, Heathcliff,’ he replied, glancing from me up to the windows, which reflected a score of glittering moons, but showed no lights from within. ‘Are they at home? where is she? Nelly, you are not glad! you needn’t be so disturbed. Is she here? Speak! I want to have one word with her your mistress. Go, and say some person from Gimmerton desires to see her.’ ‘How will she take it?’ I exclaimed. ‘What will she do? The surprise bewilders me it will put her out of her head! And you ARE Heathcliff! But altered! Nay, there’s no comprehending it. Have you been for a soldier?’ ‘Go and carry my message,’ he interrupted, impatiently. ‘I’m in hell till you do!’ He lifted the latch, and I entered; but when I got to the parlour where Mr. and Mrs. Linton were, I could not persuade myself to proceed. At length I resolved on making an excuse to ask if they would have the candles lighted, and I opened the door. They sat together in a window whose lattice lay back against the wall, and displayed, beyond the garden trees, and the wild green park, the valley of Gimmerton, with a long line of mist winding nearly to its top (for very soon after you pass the chapel, as you may have noticed, the sough that runs from the marshes joins a beck which follows the bend of the glen). Wuthering Heights rose above this silvery vapour; but our old house was invisible; it rather dips down on the other side. Both the room and its occupants, and the scene they gazed on, looked wondrously peaceful. I shrank reluctantly from performing my errand; and was actually going away leaving it unsaid, after having put my question about the candles, when a sense of my folly compelled me to return, and mutter, ‘A person from Gimmerton wishes to see you ma’am.’ ‘What does he want?’ asked Mrs. Linton. ‘I did not question him,’ I answered. ‘Well, close the curtains, Nelly,’ she said; ‘and bring up tea. I’ll be back again directly.’ She quitted the apartment; Mr. Edgar inquired, carelessly, who it was. ‘Some one mistress does not expect,’ I replied. ‘That Heathcliff you recollect him, sir who used to live at Mr. Earnshaw’s.’ ‘What! the gipsy the ploughboy?’ he cried. ‘Why did you not say so to Catherine?’ ‘Hush! you must not call him by those names, master,’ I said. ‘She’d be sadly grieved to hear you. She was nearly heartbroken when he ran off. I guess his return will make a jubilee to her.’ Mr. Linton walked to a window on the other side of the room that overlooked the court. He unfastened it, and leant out. I suppose they were below, for he exclaimed quickly: ‘Don’t stand there, love! Bring the person in, if it be anyone particular.’ Ere long, I heard the click of the latch, and Catherine flew up-stairs, breathless and wild; too excited to show gladness: indeed, by her face, you would rather have surmised an awful calamity. ‘Oh, Edgar, Edgar!’ she panted, flinging her arms round his neck. ‘Oh, Edgar darling! Heathcliff’s come back he is!’ And she tightened her embrace to a squeeze. ‘Well, well,’ cried her husband, crossly, ‘don’t strangle me for that! He never struck me as such a marvellous treasure. There is no need to be frantic!’ ‘I know you didn’t like him,’ she answered, repressing a little the intensity of her delight. ‘Yet, for my sake, you must be friends now. Shall I tell him to come up?’ ‘Here,’ he said, ‘into the parlour?’ ‘Where else?’ she asked. He looked vexed, and suggested the kitchen as a more suitable place for him. Mrs. Linton eyed him with a droll expression half angry, half laughing at his fastidiousness. ‘No,’ she added, after a while; ‘I cannot sit in the kitchen. Set two tables here, Ellen: one for your master and Miss Isabella, being gentry; the other for Heathcliff and myself, being of the lower orders. Will that please you, dear? Or must I have a fire lighted elsewhere? If so, give directions. I’ll run down and secure my guest. I’m afraid the joy is too great to be real!’ She was about to dart off again; but Edgar arrested her. ‘YOU bid him step up,’ he said, addressing me; ‘and, Catherine, try to be glad, without being absurd. The whole household need not witness the sight of your welcoming a runaway servant as a brother.’ I descended, and found Heathcliff waiting under the porch, evidently anticipating an invitation to enter. He followed my guidance without waste of words, and I ushered him into the presence of the master and mistress, whose flushed cheeks betrayed signs of warm talking. But the lady’s glowed with another feeling when her friend appeared at the door: she sprang forward, took both his hands, and led him to Linton; and then she seized Linton’s reluctant fingers and crushed them into his. Now, fully revealed by the fire and candlelight, I was amazed, more than ever, to behold the transformation of Heathcliff. He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man; beside whom my master seemed quite slender and youth-like. His upright carriage suggested the idea of his having been in the army. His countenance was much older in expression and decision of feature than Mr. Linton’s; it looked intelligent, and retained no marks of former degradation. A halfcivilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite divested of roughness, though stern for grace. My master’s surprise equalled or exceeded mine: he remained for a minute at a loss how to address the ploughboy, as he had called him. Heathcliff dropped his slight hand, and stood looking at him coolly till he chose to speak. ‘Sit down, sir,’ he said, at length. ‘Mrs. Linton, recalling old times, would have me give you a cordial reception; and, of course, I am gratified when anything occurs to please her.’ ‘And I also,’ answered Heathcliff, ‘especially if it be anything in which I have a part. I shall stay an hour or two willingly.’ He took a seat opposite Catherine, who kept her gaze fixed on him as if she feared he would vanish were she to remove it. He did not raise his to her often: a quick glance now and then sufficed; but it flashed back, each time more confidently, the undisguised delight he drank from hers. They were too much absorbed in their mutual joy to suffer embarrassment. Not so Mr. Edgar: he grew pale with pure annoyance: a feeling that reached its climax when his lady rose, and stepping across the rug, seized Heathcliff’s hands again, and laughed like one beside herself. ‘I shall think it a dream to-morrow!’ she cried. ‘I shall not be able to believe that I have seen, and touched, and spoken to you once more. And yet, cruel Heathcliff! you don’t deserve this welcome. To be absent and silent for three years, and never to think of me!’ ‘A little more than you have thought of me,’ he murmured. ‘I heard of your marriage, Cathy, not long since; and, while waiting in the yard below, I meditated this plan just to have one glimpse of your face, a stare of surprise, perhaps, and pretended pleasure; afterwards settle my score with Hindley; and then prevent the law by doing execution on myself. Your welcome has put these ideas out of my mind; but beware of meeting me with another aspect next time! Nay, you’ll not drive me off again. You were really sorry for me, were you? Well, there was cause. I’ve fought through a bitter life since I last heard your voice; and you must forgive me, for I struggled only for you!’ ‘Catherine, unless we are to have cold tea, please to come to the table,’ interrupted Linton, striving to preserve his ordinary tone, and a due measure of politeness. ‘Mr. Heathcliff will have a long walk, wherever he may lodge to-night; and I’m thirsty.’ She took her post before the urn; and Miss Isabella came, summoned by the bell; then, having handed their chairs forward, I left the room. The meal hardly endured ten minutes. Catherine’s cup was never filled: she could neither eat nor drink. Edgar had made a slop in his saucer, and scarcely swallowed a mouthful. Their guest did not protract his stay that evening above an hour longer. I asked, as he departed, if he went to Gimmerton? ‘No, to Wuthering Heights,’ he answered: ‘Mr. Earnshaw invited me, when I called this morning.’ Mr. Earnshaw invited HIM! and HE called on Mr. Earnshaw! I pondered this sentence painfully, after he was gone. Is he turning out a bit of a hypocrite, and coming into the country to work mischief under a cloak? I mused: I had a presentiment in the bottom of my heart that he had better have remained away. About the middle of the night, I was wakened from my first nap by Mrs. Linton gliding into my chamber, taking a seat on my bedside, and pulling me by the hair to rouse me. ‘I cannot rest, Ellen,’ she said, by way of apology. ‘And I want some living creature to keep me company in my happiness! Edgar is sulky, because I’m glad of a thing that does not interest him: he refuses to open his mouth, except to utter pettish, silly speeches; and he affirmed I was cruel and selfish for wishing to talk when he was so sick and sleepy. He always contrives to be sick at the least cross! I gave a few sentences of commendation to Heathcliff, and he, either for a headache or a pang of envy, began to cry: so I got up and left him.’ ‘What use is it praising Heathcliff to him?’ I answered. ‘As lads they had an aversion to each other, and Heathcliff would hate just as much to hear him praised: it’s human nature. Let Mr. Linton alone about him, unless you would like an open quarrel between them.’ ‘But does it not show great weakness?’ pursued she. ‘I’m not envious: I never feel hurt at the brightness of Isabella’s yellow hair and the whiteness of her skin, at her dainty elegance, and the fondness all the family exhibit for her. Even you, Nelly, if we have a dispute sometimes, you back Isabella at once; and I yield like a foolish mother: I call her a darling, and flatter her into a good temper. It pleases her brother to see us cordial, and that pleases me. But they are very much alike: they are spoiled children, and fancy the world was made for their accommodation; and though I humour both, I think a smart chastisement might improve them all the same.’ ‘You’re mistaken, Mrs. Linton,’ said I. ‘They humour you: I know what there would be to do if they did not. You can well afford to indulge their passing whims as long as their business is to anticipate all your desires. You may, however, fall out, at last, over something of equal consequence to both sides; and then those you term weak are very capable of being as obstinate as you.’ ‘And then we shall fight to the death, sha’n’t we, Nelly?’ she returned, laughing. ‘No! I tell you, I have such faith in Linton’s love, that I believe I might kill him, and he wouldn’t wish to retaliate.’ I advised her to value him the more for his affection. ‘I do,’ she answered, ‘but he needn’t resort to whining for trifles. It is childish and, instead of melting into tears because I said that Heathcliff was now worthy of anyone’s regard, and it would honour the first gentleman in the country to be his friend, he ought to have said it for me, and been delighted from sympathy. He must get accustomed to him, and he may as well like him: considering how Heathcliff has reason to object to him, I’m sure he behaved excellently!’ ‘What do you think of his going to Wuthering Heights?’ I inquired. ‘He is reformed in every respect, apparently: quite a Christian: offering the right hand of fellowship to his enemies all around!’ ‘He explained it,’ she replied. ‘I wonder as much as you. He said he called to gather information concerning me from you, supposing you resided there still; and Joseph told Hindley, who came out and fell to questioning him of what he had been doing, and how he had been living; and finally, desired him to walk in. There were some persons sitting at cards; Heathcliff joined them; my brother lost some money to him, and, finding him plentifully supplied, he requested that he would come again in the evening: to which he consented. Hindley is too reckless to select his acquaintance prudently: he doesn’t trouble himself to reflect on the causes he might have for mistrusting one whom he has basely injured. But Heathcliff affirms his principal reason for resuming a connection with his ancient persecutor is a wish to instal himself in quarters at walking distance from the Grange, and an attachment to the house where we lived together; and likewise a hope that I shall have more opportunities of seeing him there than I could have if he settled in Gimmerton. He means to offer liberal payment for permission to lodge at the Heights; and doubtless my brother’s covetousness will prompt him to accept the terms: he was always greedy; though what he grasps with one hand he flings away with the other.’ ‘It’s a nice place for a young man to fix his dwelling in!’ said I. ‘Have you no fear of the consequences, Mrs. Linton?’ ‘None for my friend,’ she replied: ‘his strong head will keep him from danger; a little for Hindley: but he can’t be made morally worse than he is; and I stand between him and bodily harm. The event of this evening has reconciled me to God and humanity! I had risen in angry rebellion against Providence. Oh, I’ve endured very, very bitter misery, Nelly! If that creature knew how bitter, he’d be ashamed to cloud its removal with idle petulance. It was kindness for him which induced me to bear it alone: had I expressed the agony I frequently felt, he would have been taught to long for its alleviation as ardently as I. However, it’s over, and I’ll take no revenge on his folly; I can afford to suffer anything hereafter! Should the meanest thing alive slap me on the cheek, I’d not only turn the other, but I’d ask pardon for provoking it; and, as a proof, I’ll go make my peace with Edgar instantly. Goodnight! I’m an angel!’ In this self-complacent conviction she departed; and the success of her fulfilled resolution was obvious on the morrow: Mr. Linton had not only abjured his peevishness (though his spirits seemed still subdued by Catherine’s exuberance of vivacity), but he ventured no objection to her taking Isabella with her to Wuthering Heights in the afternoon; and she rewarded him with such a summer of sweetness and affection in return as made the house a paradise for several days; both master and servants profiting from the perpetual sunshine. Heathcliff Mr. Heathcliff I should say in future used the liberty of visiting at Thrushcross Grange cautiously, at first: he seemed estimating how far its owner would bear his intrusion. Catherine, also, deemed it judicious to moderate her expressions of pleasure in receiving him; and he gradually established his right to be expected. He retained a great deal of the reserve for which his boyhood was remarkable; and that served to repress all startling demonstrations of feeling. My master’s uneasiness experienced a lull, and further circumstances diverted it into another channel for a space. His new source of trouble sprang from the not anticipated misfortune of Isabella Linton evincing a sudden and irresistible attraction towards the tolerated guest. She was at that time a charming young lady of eighteen; infantile in manners, though possessed of keen wit, keen feelings, and a keen temper, too, if irritated. Her brother, who loved her tenderly, was appalled at this fantastic preference. Leaving aside the degradation of an alliance with a nameless man, and the possible fact that his property, in default of heirs male, might pass into such a one’s power, he had sense to comprehend Heathcliff’s disposition: to know that, though his exterior was altered, his mind was unchangeable and unchanged. And he dreaded that mind: it revolted him: he shrank forebodingly from the idea of committing Isabella to its keeping. He would have recoiled still more had he been aware that her attachment rose unsolicited, and was bestowed where it awakened no reciprocation of sentiment; for the minute he discovered its existence he laid the blame on Heathcliff’s deliberate designing. We had all remarked, during some time, that Miss Linton fretted and pined over something. She grew cross and wearisome; snapping at and teasing Catherine continually, at the imminent risk of exhausting her limited patience. We excused her, to a certain extent, on the plea of ill-health: she was dwindling and fading before our eyes. But one day, when she had been peculiarly wayward, rejecting her breakfast, complaining that the servants did not do what she told them; that the mistress would allow her to be nothing in the house, and Edgar neglected her; that she had caught a cold with the doors being left open, and we let the parlour fire go out on purpose to vex her, with a hundred yet more frivolous accusations, Mrs. Linton peremptorily insisted that she should get to bed; and, having scolded her heartily, threatened to send for the doctor. Mention of Kenneth caused her to exclaim, instantly, that her health was perfect, and it was only Catherine’s harshness which made her unhappy. ‘How can you say I am harsh, you naughty fondling?’ cried the mistress, amazed at the unreasonable assertion. ‘You are surely losing your reason. When have I been hash, tell me?’ ‘Yesterday,’ sobbed Isabella, ‘and now!’ ‘Yesterday!’ said her sister-in-law. ‘On what occasion?’ ‘In our walk along the moor: you told me to ramble where I pleased, while you sauntered on with Mr. Heathcliff?’ ‘And that’s your notion of harshness?’ said Catherine, laughing. ‘It was no hint that your company was superfluous? We didn’t care whether you kept with us or not; I merely thought Heathcliff’s talk would have nothing entertaining for your ears.’ ‘Oh, no,’ wept the young lady; ‘you wished me away, because you knew I liked to be there!’ ‘Is she sane?’ asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me. ‘I’ll repeat our conversation, word for word, Isabella; and you point out any charm it could have had for you.’ ‘I don’t mind the conversation,’ she answered: ‘I wanted to be with ‘ ‘Well?’ said Catherine, perceiving her hesitate to complete the sentence. ‘With him: and I won’t be always sent off!’ she continued, kindling up. ‘You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and desire no one to be loved but yourself!’ ‘You are an impertinent little monkey!’ exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in surprise. ‘But I’ll not believe this idiotcy! It is impossible that you can covet the admiration of Heathcliff that you consider him an agreeable person! I hope I have misunderstood you, Isabella?’ ‘No, you have not,’ said the infatuated girl. ‘I love him more than ever you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would let him!’ ‘I wouldn’t be you for a kingdom, then!’ Catherine declared, emphatically: and she seemed to speak sincerely. ‘Nelly, help me to convince her of her madness. Tell her what Heathcliff is: an unreclaimed creature, without refinement, without cultivation; an arid wilderness of furze and whinstone. I’d as soon put that little canary into the park on a winter’s day, as recommend you to bestow your heart on him! It is deplorable ignorance of his character, child, and nothing else, which makes that dream enter your head. Pray, don’t imagine that he conceals depths of benevolence and affection beneath a stern exterior! He’s not a rough diamond a pearl-containing oyster of a rustic: he’s a fierce, pitiless, wolfish man. I never say to him, ‘Let this or that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm them;’ I say, ‘Let them alone, because I should hate them to be wronged:’ and he’d crush you like a sparrow’s egg, Isabella, if he found you a troublesome charge. I know he couldn’t love a Linton; and yet he’d be quite capable of marrying your fortune and expectations: avarice is growing with him a besetting sin. There’s my picture: and I’m his friend so much so, that had he thought seriously to catch you, I should, perhaps, have held my tongue, and let you fall into his trap.’ Miss Linton regarded her sister-in-law with indignation. ‘For shame! for shame!’ she repeated, angrily. ‘You are worse than twenty foes, you poisonous friend!’ ‘Ah! you won’t believe me, then?’ said Catherine. ‘You think I speak from wicked selfishness?’ ‘I’m certain you do,’ retorted Isabella; ‘and I shudder at you!’ ‘Good!’ cried the other. ‘Try for yourself, if that be your spirit: I have done, and yield the argument to your saucy insolence.’ ‘And I must suffer for her egotism!’ she sobbed, as Mrs. Linton left the room. ‘All, all is against me: she has blighted my single consolation. But she uttered falsehoods, didn’t she? Mr. Heathcliff is not a fiend: he has an honourable soul, and a true one, or how could he remember her?’ ‘Banish him from your thoughts, Miss,’ I said. ‘He’s a bird of bad omen: no mate for you. Mrs. Linton spoke strongly, and yet I can’t contradict her. She is better acquainted with his heart than I, or any one besides; and she never would represent him as worse than he is. Honest people don’t hide their deeds. How has he been living? how has he got rich? why is he staying at Wuthering Heights, the house of a man whom he abhors? They say Mr. Earnshaw is worse and worse since he came. They sit up all night together continually, and Hindley has been borrowing money on his land, and does nothing but play and drink: I heard only a week ago it was Joseph who told me I met him at Gimmerton: ‘Nelly,’ he said, ‘we’s hae a crowner’s ‘quest enow, at ahr folks’. One on ‘em ‘s a’most getten his finger cut off wi’ hauding t’ other fro’ stickin’ hisseln loike a cawlf. That’s maister, yeah knaw, ‘at ‘s soa up o’ going tuh t’ grand ‘sizes. He’s noan feared o’ t’ bench o’ judges, norther Paul, nur Peter, nur John, nur Matthew, nor noan on ‘em, not he! He fair likes he langs to set his brazened face agean ‘em! And yon bonny lad Heathcliff, yah mind, he’s a rare ‘un. He can girn a laugh as well ‘s onybody at a raight divil’s jest. Does he niver say nowt of his fine living amang us, when he goes to t’ Grange? This is t’ way on ‘t:up at sun-down: dice, brandy, cloised shutters, und can’le-light till next day at noon: then, t’fooil gangs banning und raving to his cham’er, makking dacent fowks dig thur fingers i’ thur lugs fur varry shame; un’ the knave, why he can caint his brass, un’ ate, un’ sleep, un’ off to his neighbour’s to gossip wi’ t’ wife. I’ course, he tells Dame Catherine how her fathur’s goold runs into his pocket, and her fathur’s son gallops down t’ broad road, while he flees afore to oppen t’ pikes!’ Now, Miss Linton, Joseph is an old rascal, but no liar; and, if his account of Heathcliff’s conduct be true, you would never think of desiring such a husband, would you?’ ‘You are leagued with the rest, Ellen!’ she replied. ‘I’ll not listen to your slanders. What malevolence you must have to wish to convince me that there is no happiness in the world!’ Whether she would have got over this fancy if left to herself, or persevered in nursing it perpetually, I cannot say: she had little time to reflect. The day after, there was a justice-meeting at the next town; my master was obliged to attend; and Mr. Heathcliff, aware of his absence, called rather earlier than usual. Catherine and Isabella were sitting in the library, on hostile terms, but silent: the latter alarmed at her recent indiscretion, and the disclosure she had made of her secret feelings in a transient fit of passion; the former, on mature consideration, really offended with her companion; and, if she laughed again at her pertness, inclined to make it no laughing matter to her. She did laugh as she saw Heathcliff pass the window. I was sweeping the hearth, and I noticed a mischievous smile on her lips. Isabella, absorbed in her meditations, or a book, remained till the door opened; and it was too late to attempt an escape, which she would gladly have done had it been practicable. ‘Come in, that’s right!’ exclaimed the mistress, gaily, pulling a chair to the fire. ‘Here are two people sadly in need of a third to thaw the ice between them; and you are the very one we should both of us choose. Heathcliff, I’m proud to show you, at last, somebody that dotes on you more than myself. I expect you to feel flattered. Nay, it’s not Nelly; don’t look at her! My poor little sister-in-law is breaking her heart by mere contemplation of your physical and moral beauty. It lies in your own power to be Edgar’s brother! No, no, Isabella, you sha’n’t run off,’ she continued, arresting, with feigned playfulness, the confounded girl, who had risen indignantly. ‘We were quarrelling like cats about you, Heathcliff; and I was fairly beaten in protestations of devotion and admiration: and, moreover, I was informed that if I would but have the manners to stand aside, my rival, as she will have herself to be, would shoot a shaft into your soul that would fix you for ever, and send my image into eternal oblivion!’ ‘Catherine!’ said Isabella, calling up her dignity, and disdaining to struggle from the tight grasp that held her, ‘I’d thank you to adhere to the truth and not slander me, even in joke! Mr. Heathcliff, be kind enough to bid this friend of yours release me: she forgets that you and I are not intimate acquaintances; and what amuses her is painful to me beyond expression.’ As the guest answered nothing, but took his seat, and looked thoroughly indifferent what sentiments she cherished concerning him, she turned and whispered an earnest appeal for liberty to her tormentor. ‘By no means!’ cried Mrs. Linton in answer. ‘I won’t be named a dog in the manger again. You SHALL stay: now then! Heathcliff, why don’t you evince satisfaction at my pleasant news? Isabella swears that the love Edgar has for me is nothing to that she entertains for you. I’m sure she made some speech of the kind; did she not, Ellen? And she has fasted ever since the day before yesterday’s walk, from sorrow and rage that I despatched her out of your society under the idea of its being unacceptable.’ ‘I think you belie her,’ said Heathcliff, twisting his chair to face them. ‘She wishes to be out of my society now, at any rate!’ And he stared hard at the object of discourse, as one might do at a strange repulsive animal: a centipede from the Indies, for instance, which curiosity leads one to examine in spite of the aversion it raises. The poor thing couldn’t bear that; she grew white and red in rapid succession, and, while tears beaded her lashes, bent the strength of her small fingers to loosen the firm clutch of Catherine; and perceiving that as fast as she raised one finger off her arm another closed down, and she could not remove the whole together, she began to make use of her nails; and their sharpness presently ornamented the detainer’s with crescents of red. ‘There’s a tigress!’ exclaimed Mrs. Linton, setting her free, and shaking her hand with pain. ‘Begone, for God’s sake, and hide your vixen face! How foolish to reveal those talons to him. Can’t you fancy the conclusions he’ll draw? Look, Heathcliff! they are instruments that will do execution you must beware of your eyes.’ ‘I’d wrench them off her fingers, if they ever menaced me,’ he answered, brutally, when the door had closed after her. ‘But what did you mean by teasing the creature in that manner, Cathy? You were not speaking the truth, were you?’ ‘I assure you I was,’ she returned. ‘She has been dying for your sake several weeks, and raving about you this morning, and pouring forth a deluge of abuse, because I represented your failings in a plain light, for the purpose of mitigating her adoration. But don’t notice it further: I wished to punish her sauciness, that’s all. I like her too well, my dear Heathcliff, to let you absolutely seize and devour her up.’ ‘And I like her too ill to attempt it,’ said he, ‘except in a very ghoulish fashion. You’d hear of odd things if I lived alone with that mawkish, waxen face: the most ordinary would be painting on its white the colours of the rainbow, and turning the blue eyes black, every day or two: they detestably resemble Linton’s.’ ‘Delectably!’ observed Catherine. ‘They are dove’s eyes angel’s!’ ‘She’s her brother’s heir, is she not?’ he asked, after a brief silence. ‘I should be sorry to think so,’ returned his companion. ‘Half a dozen nephews shall erase her title, please heaven! Abstract your mind from the subject at present: you are too prone to covet your neighbour’s goods; remember THIS neighbour’s goods are mine.’ ‘If they were MINE, they would be none the less that,’ said Heathcliff; ‘but though Isabella Linton may be silly, she is scarcely mad; and, in short, we’ll dismiss the matter, as you advise.’ From their tongues they did dismiss it; and Catherine, probably, from her thoughts. The other, I felt certain, recalled it often in the course of the evening. I saw him smile to himself grin rather and lapse into ominous musing whenever Mrs. Linton had occasion to be absent from the apartment. I determined to watch his movements. My heart invariably cleaved to the master’s, in preference to Catherine’s side: with reason I imagined, for he was kind, and trustful, and honourable; and she she could not be called OPPOSITE, yet she seemed to allow herself such wide latitude, that I had little faith in her principles, and still less sympathy for her feelings. I wanted something to happen which might have the effect of freeing both Wuthering Heights and the Grange of Mr. Heathcliff quietly; leaving us as we had been prior to his advent. His visits were a continual nightmare to me; and, I suspected, to my master also. His abode at the Heights was an oppression past explaining. I felt that God had forsaken the stray sheep there to its own wicked wanderings, and an evil beast prowled between it and the fold, waiting his time to spring and destroy. Chapter XI SOMETIMES, while meditating on these things in solitude, I’ve got up in a sudden terror, and put on my bonnet to go see how all was at the farm. I’ve persuaded my conscience that it was a duty to warn him how people talked regarding his ways; and then I’ve recollected his confirmed bad habits, and, hopeless of benefiting him, have flinched from re-entering the dismal house, doubting if I could bear to be taken at my word. One time I passed the old gate, going out of my way, on a journey to Gimmerton. It was about the period that my narrative has reached: a bright frosty afternoon; the ground bare, and the road hard and dry. I came to a stone where the highway branches off on to the moor at your left hand; a rough sand-pillar, with the letters W. H. cut on its north side, on the east, G., and on the south-west, T. G. It serves as a guide-post to the Grange, the Heights, and village. The sun shone yellow on its grey head, reminding me of summer; and I cannot say why, but all at once a gush of child’s sensations flowed into my heart. Hindley and I held it a favourite spot twenty years before. I gazed long at the weather-worn block; and, stooping down, perceived a hole near the bottom still full of snail-shells and pebbles, which we were fond of storing there with more perishable things; and, as fresh as reality, it appeared that I beheld my early playmate seated on the withered turf: his dark, square head bent forward, and his little hand scooping out the earth with a piece of slate. ‘Poor Hindley!’ I exclaimed, involuntarily. I started: my bodily eye was cheated into a momentary belief that the child lifted its face and stared straight into mine! It vanished in a twinkling; but immediately I felt an irresistible yearning to be at the Heights. Superstition urged me to comply with this impulse: supposing he should be dead! I thought or should die soon! supposing it were a sign of death! The nearer I got to the house the more agitated I grew; and on catching sight of it I trembled in every limb. The apparition had outstripped me: it stood looking through the gate. That was my first idea on observing an elf-locked, brown-eyed boy setting his ruddy countenance against the bars. Further reflection suggested this must be Hareton, MY Hareton, not altered greatly since I left him, ten months since. ‘God bless thee, darling!’ I cried, forgetting instantaneously my foolish fears. ‘Hareton, it’s Nelly! Nelly, thy nurse.’ He retreated out of arm’s length, and picked up a large flint. ‘I am come to see thy father, Hareton,’ I added, guessing from the action that Nelly, if she lived in his memory at all, was not recognised as one with me. He raised his missile to hurl it; I commenced a soothing speech, but could not stay his hand: the stone struck my bonnet; and then ensued, from the stammering lips of the little fellow, a string of curses, which, whether he comprehended them or not, were delivered with practised emphasis, and distorted his baby features into a shocking expression of malignity. You may be certain this grieved more than angered me. Fit to cry, I took an orange from my pocket, and offered it to propitiate him. He hesitated, and then snatched it from my hold; as if he fancied I only intended to tempt and disappoint him. I showed another, keeping it out of his reach. ‘Who has taught you those fine words, my bairn?’ I inquired. ‘The curate?’ ‘Damn the curate, and thee! Gie me that,’ he replied. ‘Tell us where you got your lessons, and you shall have it,’ said I. ‘Who’s your master?’ ‘Devil daddy,’ was his answer. ‘And what do you learn from daddy?’ I continued. He jumped at the fruit; I raised it higher. ‘What does he teach you?’ I asked. ‘Naught,’ said he, ‘but to keep out of his gait. Daddy cannot bide me, because I swear at him.’ ‘Ah! and the devil teaches you to swear at daddy?’ I observed. ‘Ay nay,’ he drawled. ‘Who, then?’ ‘Heathcliff.’ ‘I asked if he liked Mr. Heathcliff.’ ‘Ay!’ he answered again. Desiring to have his reasons for liking him, I could only gather the sentences ‘I known’t: he pays dad back what he gies to me he curses daddy for cursing me. He says I mun do as I will.’ ‘And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then?’ I pursued. ‘No, I was told the curate should have his teeth dashed down his throat, if he stepped over the threshold Heathcliff had promised that!’ I put the orange in his hand, and bade him tell his father that a woman called Nelly Dean was waiting to speak with him, by the garden gate. He went up the walk, and entered the house; but, instead of Hindley, Heathcliff appeared on the door-stones; and I turned directly and ran down the road as hard as ever I could race, making no halt till I gained the guide-post, and feeling as scared as if I had raised a goblin. This is not much connected with Miss Isabella’s affair: except that it urged me to resolve further on mounting vigilant guard, and doing my utmost to cheek the spread of such bad influence at the Grange: even though I should wake a domestic storm, by thwarting Mrs. Linton’s pleasure. The next time Heathcliff came my young lady chanced to be feeding some pigeons in the court. She had never spoken a word to her sister-in-law for three days; but she had likewise dropped her fretful complaining, and we found it a great comfort. Heathcliff had not the habit of bestowing a single unnecessary civility on Miss Linton, I knew. Now, as soon as he beheld her, his first precaution was to take a sweeping survey of the house-front. I was standing by the kitchen-window, but I drew out of sight. He then stepped across the pavement to her, and said something: she seemed embarrassed, and desirous of getting away; to prevent it, he laid his hand on her arm. She averted her face: he apparently put some question which she had no mind to answer. There was another rapid glance at the house, and supposing himself unseen, the scoundrel had the impudence to embrace her. ‘Judas! Traitor!’ I ejaculated. ‘You are a hypocrite, too, are you? A deliberate deceiver.’ ‘Who is, Nelly?’ said Catherine’s voice at my elbow: I had been over-intent on watching the pair outside to mark her entrance. ‘Your worthless friend!’ I answered, warmly: ‘the sneaking rascal yonder. Ah, he has caught a glimpse of us he is coming in! I wonder will he have the heart to find a plausible excuse for making love to Miss, when he told you he hated her?’ Mrs. Linton saw Isabella tear herself free, and run into the garden; and a minute after, Heathcliff opened the door. I couldn’t withhold giving some loose to my indignation; but Catherine angrily insisted on silence, and threatened to order me out of the kitchen, if I dared to be so presumptuous as to put in my insolent tongue. ‘To hear you, people might think you were the mistress!’ she cried. ‘You want setting down in your right place! Heathcliff, what are you about, raising this stir? I said you must let Isabella alone! I beg you will, unless you are tired of being received here, and wish Linton to draw the bolts against you!’ ‘God forbid that he should try!’ answered the black villain. I detested him just then. ‘God keep him meek and patient! Every day I grow madder after sending him to heaven!’ ‘Hush!’ said Catherine, shutting the inner door! ‘Don’t vex me. Why have you disregarded my request? Did she come across you on purpose?’ ‘What is it to you?’ he growled. ‘I have a right to kiss her, if she chooses; and you have no right to object. I am not YOUR husband: YOU needn’t be jealous of me!’ ‘I’m not jealous of you,’ replied the mistress; ‘I’m jealous for you. Clear your face: you sha’n’t scowl at me! If you like Isabella, you shall marry her. But do you like her? Tell the truth, Heathcliff! There, you won’t answer. I’m certain you don’t.’ ‘And would Mr. Linton approve of his sister marrying that man?’ I inquired. ‘Mr. Linton should approve,’ returned my lady, decisively. ‘He might spare himself the trouble,’ said Heathcliff: ‘I could do as well without his approbation. And as to you, Catherine, I have a mind to speak a few words now, while we are at it. I want you to be aware that I KNOW you have treated me infernally infernally! Do you hear? And if you flatter yourself that I don’t perceive it, you are a fool; and if you think I can be consoled by sweet words, you are an idiot: and if you fancy I’ll suffer unrevenged, I’ll convince you of the contrary, in a very little while! Meantime, thank you for telling me your sister-in-law’s secret: I swear I’ll make the most of it. And stand you aside!’ ‘What new phase of his character is this?’ exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in amazement. ‘I’ve treated you infernally and you’ll take your revenge! How will you take it, ungrateful brute? How have I treated you infernally?’ ‘I seek no revenge on you,’ replied Heathcliff, less vehemently. ‘That’s not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him; they crush those beneath them. You are welcome to torture me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in the same style, and refrain from insult as much as you are able. Having levelled my palace, don’t erect a hovel and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home. If I imagined you really wished me to marry Isabel, I’d cut my throat!’ ‘Oh, the evil is that I am NOT jealous, is it?’ cried Catherine. ‘Well, I won’t repeat my offer of a wife: it is as bad as offering Satan a lost soul. Your bliss lies, like his, in inflicting misery. You prove it. Edgar is restored from the ill-temper he gave way to at your coming; I begin to be secure and tranquil; and you, restless to know us at peace, appear resolved on exciting a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you please, Heathcliff, and deceive his sister: you’ll hit on exactly the most efficient method of revenging yourself on me.’ The conversation ceased. Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and gloomy. The spirit which served her was growing intractable: she could neither lay nor control it. He stood on the hearth with folded arms, brooding on his evil thoughts; and in this position I left them to seek the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine below so long. ‘Ellen,’ said he, when I entered, ‘have you seen your mistress?’ ‘Yes; she’s in the kitchen, sir,’ I answered. ‘She’s sadly put out by Mr. Heathcliff’s behaviour: and, indeed, I do think it’s time to arrange his visits on another footing. There’s harm in being too soft, and now it’s come to this .’ And I related the scene in the court, and, as near as I dared, the whole subsequent dispute. I fancied it could not be very prejudicial to Mrs. Linton; unless she made it so afterwards, by assuming the defensive for her guest. Edgar Linton had difficulty in hearing me to the close. His first words revealed that he did not clear his wife of blame. ‘This is insufferable!’ he exclaimed. ‘It is disgraceful that she should own him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two men out of the hall, Ellen. Catherine shall linger no longer to argue with the low ruffian I have humoured her enough.’ He descended, and bidding the servants wait in the passage, went, followed by me, to the kitchen. Its occupants had recommenced their angry discussion: Mrs. Linton, at least, was scolding with renewed vigour; Heathcliff had moved to the window, and hung his head, somewhat cowed by her violent rating apparently. He saw the master first, and made a hasty motion that she should be silent; which she obeyed, abruptly, on discovering the reason of his intimation. ‘How is this?’ said Linton, addressing her; ‘what notion of propriety must you have to remain here, after the language which has been held to you by that blackguard? I suppose, because it is his ordinary talk you think nothing of it: you are habituated to his baseness, and, perhaps, imagine I can get used to it too!’ ‘Have you been listening at the door, Edgar?’ asked the mistress, in a tone particularly calculated to provoke her husband, implying both carelessness and contempt of his irritation. Heathcliff, who had raised his eyes at the former speech, gave a sneering laugh at the latter; on purpose, it seemed, to draw Mr. Linton’s attention to him. He succeeded; but Edgar did not mean to entertain him with any high flights of passion. ‘I’ve been so far forbearing with you, sir,’ he said quietly; ‘not that I was ignorant of your miserable, degraded character, but I felt you were only partly responsible for that; and Catherine wishing to keep up your acquaintance, I acquiesced foolishly. Your presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous: for that cause, and to prevent worse consequences, I shall deny you hereafter admission into this house, and give notice now that I require your instant departure. Three minutes’ delay will render it involuntary and ignominious. Heathcliff measured the height and breadth of the speaker with an eye full of derision. ‘Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!’ he said. ‘It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I’m mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!’ My master glanced towards the passage, and signed me to fetch the men: he had no intention of hazarding a personal encounter. I obeyed the hint; but Mrs. Linton, suspecting something, followed; and when I attempted to call them, she pulled me back, slammed the door to, and locked it. ‘Fair means!’ she said, in answer to her husband’s look of angry surprise. ‘If you have not courage to attack him, make an apology, or allow yourself to be beaten. It will correct you of feigning more valour than you possess. No, I’ll swallow the key before you shall get it! I’m delightfully rewarded for my kindness to each! After constant indulgence of one’s weak nature, and the other’s bad one, I earn for thanks two samples of blind ingratitude, stupid to absurdity! Edgar, I was defending you and yours; and I wish Heathcliff may flog you sick, for daring to think an evil thought of me!’ It did not need the medium of a flogging to produce that effect on the master. He tried to wrest the key from Catherine’s grasp, and for safety she flung it into the hottest part of the fire; whereupon Mr. Edgar was taken with a nervous trembling, and his countenance grew deadly pale. For his life he could not avert that excess of emotion: mingled anguish and humiliation overcame him completely. He leant on the back of a chair, and covered his face. ‘Oh, heavens! In old days this would win you knighthood!’ exclaimed Mrs. Linton. ‘We are vanquished! we are vanquished! Heathcliff would as soon lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a colony of mice. Cheer up! you sha’n’t be hurt! Your type is not a lamb, it’s a sucking leveret.’ ‘I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!’ said her friend. ‘I compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering thing you preferred to me! I would not strike him with my fist, but I’d kick him with my foot, and experience considerable satisfaction. Is he weeping, or is he going to faint for fear?’ The fellow approached and gave the chair on which Linton rested a push. He’d better have kept his distance: my master quickly sprang erect, and struck him full on the throat a blow that would have levelled a slighter man. It took his breath for a minute; and while he choked, Mr. Linton walked out by the back door into the yard, and from thence to the front entrance. ‘There! you’ve done with coming here,’ cried Catherine. ‘Get away, now; he’ll return with a brace of pistols and half-a-dozen assistants. If he did overhear us, of course he’d never forgive you. You’ve played me an ill turn, Heathcliff! But go make haste! I’d rather see Edgar at bay than you.’ ‘Do you suppose I’m going with that blow burning in my gullet?’ he thundered. ‘By hell, no! I’ll crush his ribs in like a rotten hazel-nut before I cross the threshold! If I don’t floor him now, I shall murder him some time; so, as you value his existence, let me get at him!’ ‘He is not coming,’ I interposed, framing a bit of a lie. ‘There’s the coachman and the two gardeners; you’ll surely not wait to be thrust into the road by them! Each has a bludgeon; and master will, very likely, be watching from the parlour-windows to see that they fulfil his orders.’ The gardeners and coachman were there: but Linton was with them. They had already entered the court. Heathcliff, on the second thoughts, resolved to avoid a struggle against three underlings: he seized the poker, smashed the lock from the inner door, and made his escape as they tramped in. Mrs. Linton, who was very much excited, bade me accompany her upstairs. She did not know my share in contributing to the disturbance, and I was anxious to keep her in ignorance. ‘I’m nearly distracted, Nelly!’ she exclaimed, throwing herself on the sofa. ‘A thousand smiths’ hammers are beating in my head! Tell Isabella to shun me; this uproar is owing to her; and should she or any one else aggravate my anger at present, I shall get wild. And, Nelly, say to Edgar, if you see him again to-night, that I’m in danger of being seriously ill. I wish it may prove true. He has startled and distressed me shockingly! I want to frighten him. Besides, he might come and begin a string of abuse or complainings; I’m certain I should recriminate, and God knows where we should end! Will you do so, my good Nelly? You are aware that I am no way blamable in this matter. What possessed him to turn listener? Heathcliff’s talk was outrageous, after you left us; but I could soon have diverted him from Isabella, and the rest meant nothing. Now all is dashed wrong; by the fool’s craving to hear evil of self, that haunts some people like a demon! Had Edgar never gathered our conversation, he would never have been the worse for it. Really, when he opened on me in that unreasonable tone of displeasure after I had scolded Heathcliff till I was hoarse for him, I did not care hardly what they did to each other; especially as I felt that, however the scene closed, we should all be driven asunder for nobody knows how long! Well, if I cannot keep Heathcliff for my friend if Edgar will be mean and jealous, I’ll try to break their hearts by breaking my own. That will be a prompt way of finishing all, when I am pushed to extremity! But it’s a deed to be reserved for a forlorn hope; I’d not take Linton by surprise with it. To this point he has been discreet in dreading to provoke me; you must represent the peril of quitting that policy, and remind him of my passionate temper, verging, when kindled, on frenzy. I wish you could dismiss that apathy out of that countenance, and look rather more anxious about me.’ The stolidity with which I received these instructions was, no doubt, rather exasperating: for they were delivered in perfect sincerity; but I believed a person who could plan the turning of her fits of passion to account, beforehand, might, by exerting her will, manage to control herself tolerably, even while under their influence; and I did not wish to ‘frighten’ her husband, as she said, and multiply his annoyances for the purpose of serving her selfishness. Therefore I said nothing when I met the master coming towards the parlour; but I took the liberty of turning back to listen whether they would resume their quarrel together. He began to speak first. ‘Remain where you are, Catherine,’ he said; without any anger in his voice, but with much sorrowful despondency. ‘I shall not stay. I am neither come to wrangle nor be reconciled; but I wish just to learn whether, after this evening’s events, you intend to continue your intimacy with ‘ ‘Oh, for mercy’s sake,’ interrupted the mistress, stamping her foot, ‘for mercy’s sake, let us hear no more of it now! Your cold blood cannot be worked into a fever: your veins are full of icewater; but mine are boiling, and the sight of such chillness makes them dance.’ ‘To get rid of me, answer my question,’ persevered Mr. Linton. ‘You must answer it; and that violence does not alarm me. I have found that you can be as stoical as anyone, when you please. Will you give up Heathcliff hereafter, or will you give up me? It is impossible for you to be MY friend and HIS at the same time; and I absolutely REQUIRE to know which you choose.’ ‘I require to be let alone?’ exclaimed Catherine, furiously. ‘I demand it! Don’t you see I can scarcely stand? Edgar, you you leave me!’ She rang the bell till it broke with a twang; I entered leisurely. It was enough to try the temper of a saint, such senseless, wicked rages! There she lay dashing her head against the arm of the sofa, and grinding her teeth, so that you might fancy she would crash them to splinters! Mr. Linton stood looking at her in sudden compunction and fear. He told me to fetch some water. She had no breath for speaking. I brought a glass full; and as she would not drink, I sprinkled it on her face. In a few seconds she stretched herself out stiff, and turned up her eyes, while her cheeks, at once blanched and livid, assumed the aspect of death. Linton looked terrified. ‘There is nothing in the world the matter,’ I whispered. I did not want him to yield, though I could not help being afraid in my heart. ‘She has blood on her lips!’ he said, shuddering. ‘Never mind!’ I answered, tartly. And I told him how she had resolved, previous to his coming, on exhibiting a fit of frenzy. I incautiously gave the account aloud, and she heard me; for she started up her hair flying over her shoulders, her eyes flashing, the muscles of her neck and arms standing out preternaturally. I made up my mind for broken bones, at least; but she only glared about her for an instant, and then rushed from the room. The master directed me to follow; I did, to her chamber-door: she hindered me from going further by securing it against me. As she never offered to descend to breakfast next morning, I went to ask whether she would have some carried up. ‘No!’ she replied, peremptorily. The same question was repeated at dinner and tea; and again on the morrow after, and received the same answer. Mr. Linton, on his part, spent his time in the library, and did not inquire concerning his wife’s occupations. Isabella and he had had an hour’s interview, during which he tried to elicit from her some sentiment of proper horror for Heathcliff’s advances: but he could make nothing of her evasive replies, and was obliged to close the examination unsatisfactorily; adding, however, a solemn warning, that if she were so insane as to encourage that worthless suitor, it would dissolve all bonds of relationship between herself and him. Chapter XII WHILE Miss Linton moped about the park and garden, always silent, and almost always in tears; and her brother shut himself up among books that he never opened wearying, I guessed, with a continual vague expectation that Catherine, repenting her conduct, would come of her own accord to ask pardon, and seek a reconciliation and SHE fasted pertinaciously, under the idea, probably, that at every meal Edgar was ready to choke for her absence, and pride alone held him from running to cast himself at her feet; I went about my household duties, convinced that the Grange had but one sensible soul in its walls, and that lodged in my body. I wasted no condolences on Miss, nor any expostulations on my mistress; nor did I pay much attention to the sighs of my master, who yearned to hear his lady’s name, since he might not hear her voice. I determined they should come about as they pleased for me; and though it was a tiresomely slow process, I began to rejoice at length in a faint dawn of its progress: as I thought at first. Mrs. Linton, on the third day, unbarred her door, and having finished the water in her pitcher and decanter, desired a renewed supply, and a basin of gruel, for she believed she was dying. That I set down as a speech meant for Edgar’s ears; I believed no such thing, so I kept it to myself and brought her some tea and dry toast. She ate and drank eagerly, and sank back on her pillow again, clenching her hands and groaning. ‘Oh, I will die,’ she exclaimed, ‘since no one cares anything about me. I wish I had not taken that.’ Then a good while after I heard her murmur, ‘No, I’ll not die he’d be glad he does not love me at all he would never miss me!’ ‘Did you want anything, ma’am?’ I inquired, still preserving my external composure, in spite of her ghastly countenance and strange, exaggerated manner. ‘What is that apathetic being doing?’ she demanded, pushing the thick entangled locks from her wasted face. ‘Has he fallen into a lethargy, or is he dead?’ ‘Neither,’ replied I; ‘if you mean Mr. Linton. He’s tolerably well, I think, though his studies occupy him rather more than they ought: he is continually among his books, since he has no other society.’ I should not have spoken so if I had known her true condition, but I could not get rid of the notion that she acted a part of her disorder. ‘Among his books!’ she cried, confounded. ‘And I dying! I on the brink of the grave! My God! does he know how I’m altered?’ continued she, staring at her reflection in a mirror hanging against the opposite wall. ‘Is that Catherine Linton? He imagines me in a pet in play, perhaps. Cannot you inform him that it is frightful earnest? Nelly, if it be not too late, as soon as I learn how he feels, I’ll choose between these two: either to starve at once that would be no punishment unless he had a heart or to recover, and leave the country. Are you speaking the truth about him now? Take care. Is he actually so utterly indifferent for my life?’ ‘Why, ma’am,’ I answered, ‘the master has no idea of your being deranged; and of course he does not fear that you will let yourself die of hunger.’ ‘You think not? Cannot you tell him I will?’ she returned. ‘Persuade him! speak of your own mind: say you are certain I will!’ ‘No, you forget, Mrs. Linton,’ I suggested, ‘that you have eaten some food with a relish this evening, and to-morrow you will perceive its good effects.’ ‘If I were only sure it would kill him,’ she interrupted, ‘I’d kill myself directly! These three awful nights I’ve never closed my lids and oh, I’ve been tormented! I’ve been haunted, Nelly! But I begin to fancy you don’t like me. How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me. And they have all turned to enemies in a few hours: they have, I’m positive; the people here. How dreary to meet death, surrounded by their cold faces! Isabella, terrified and repelled, afraid to enter the room, it would be so dreadful to watch Catherine go. And Edgar standing solemnly by to see it over; then offering prayers of thanks to God for restoring peace to his house, and going back to his BOOKS! What in the name of all that feels has he to do with BOOKS, when I am dying?’ She could not bear the notion which I had put into her head of Mr. Linton’s philosophical resignation. Tossing about, she increased her feverish bewilderment to madness, and tore the pillow with her teeth; then raising herself up all burning, desired that I would open the window. We were in the middle of winter, the wind blew strong from the north-east, and I objected. Both the expressions flitting over her face, and the changes of her moods, began to alarm me terribly; and brought to my recollection her former illness, and the doctor’s injunction that she should not be crossed. A minute previously she was violent; now, supported on one arm, and not noticing my refusal to obey her, she seemed to find childish diversion in pulling the feathers from the rents she had just made, and ranging them on the sheet according to their different species: her mind had strayed to other associations. ‘That’s a turkey’s,’ she murmured to herself; ‘and this is a wild duck’s; and this is a pigeon’s. Ah, they put pigeons’ feathers in the pillows no wonder I couldn’t die! Let me take care to throw it on the floor when I lie down. And here is a moor-cock’s; and this I should know it among a thousand it’s a lapwing’s. Bonny bird; wheeling over our heads in the middle of the moor. It wanted to get to its nest, for the clouds had touched the swells, and it felt rain coming. This feather was picked up from the heath, the bird was not shot: we saw its nest in the winter, full of little skeletons. Heathcliff set a trap over it, and the old ones dared not come. I made him promise he’d never shoot a lapwing after that, and he didn’t. Yes, here are more! Did he shoot my lapwings, Nelly? Are they red, any of them? Let me look.’ ‘Give over with that baby-work!’ I interrupted, dragging the pillow away, and turning the holes towards the mattress, for she was removing its contents by handfuls. ‘Lie down and shut your eyes: you’re wandering. There’s a mess! The down is flying about like snow.’ I went here and there collecting it. ‘I see in you, Nelly,’ she continued dreamily, ‘an aged woman: you have grey hair and bent shoulders. This bed is the fairy cave under Penistone crags, and you are gathering elf-bolts to hurt our heifers; pretending, while I am near, that they are only locks of wool. That’s what you’ll come to fifty years hence: I know you are not so now. I’m not wandering: you’re mistaken, or else I should believe you really WERE that withered hag, and I should think I WAS under Penistone Crags; and I’m conscious it’s night, and there are two candles on the table making the black press shine like jet.’ ‘The black press? where is that?’ I asked. ‘You are talking in your sleep!’ ‘It’s against the wall, as it always is,’ she replied. ‘It DOES appear odd I see a face in it!’ ‘There’s no press in the room, and never was,’ said I, resuming my seat, and looping up the curtain that I might watch her. ‘Don’t YOU see that face?’ she inquired, gazing earnestly at the mirror. And say what I could, I was incapable of making her comprehend it to be her own; so I rose and covered it with a shawl. ‘It’s behind there still!’ she pursued, anxiously. ‘And it stirred. Who is it? I hope it will not come out when you are gone! Nelly, the room is haunted! I’m afraid of being alone!’ I took her hand in mine, and bid her be composed; for a succession of shudders convulsed her frame, and she would keep straining her gaze towards the glass. ‘There’s nobody here!’ I insisted. ‘It was YOURSELF, Mrs. Linton: you knew it a while since.’ ‘Myself!’ she gasped, ‘and the clock is striking twelve! It’s true, then! that’s dreadful!’ Her fingers clutched the clothes, and gathered them over her eyes. I attempted to steal to the door with an intention of calling her husband; but I was summoned back by a piercing shriek the shawl had dropped from the frame. ‘Why, what is the matter?’ cried I. ‘Who is coward now? Wake up! That is the glass the mirror, Mrs. Linton; and you see yourself in it, and there am I too by your side.’ Trembling and bewildered, she held me fast, but the horror gradually passed from her countenance; its paleness gave place to a glow of shame. ‘Oh, dear! I thought I was at home,’ she sighed. ‘I thought I was lying in my chamber at Wuthering Heights. Because I’m weak, my brain got confused, and I screamed unconsciously. Don’t say anything; but stay with me. I dread sleeping: my dreams appal me.’ ‘A sound sleep would do you good, ma’am,’ I answered: ‘and I hope this suffering will prevent your trying starving again.’ ‘Oh, if I were but in my own bed in the old house!’ she went on bitterly, wringing her hands. ‘And that wind sounding in the firs by the lattice. Do let me feel it it comes straight down the moor do let me have one breath!’ To pacify her I held the casement ajar a few seconds. A cold blast rushed through; I closed it, and returned to my post. She lay still now, her face bathed in tears. Exhaustion of body had entirely subdued her spirit: our fiery Catherine was no better than a wailing child. ‘How long is it since I shut myself in here?’ she asked, suddenly reviving. ‘It was Monday evening,’ I replied, ‘and this is Thursday night, or rather Friday morning, at present.’ ‘What! of the same week?’ she exclaimed. ‘Only that brief time?’ ‘Long enough to live on nothing but cold water and ill-temper,’ observed I. ‘Well, it seems a weary number of hours,’ she muttered doubtfully: ‘it must be more. I remember being in the parlour after they had quarrelled, and Edgar being cruelly provoking, and me running into this room desperate. As soon as ever I had barred the door, utter blackness overwhelmed me, and I fell on the floor. I couldn’t explain to Edgar how certain I felt of having a fit, or going raging mad, if he persisted in teasing me! I had no command of tongue, or brain, and he did not guess my agony, perhaps: it barely left me sense to try to escape from him and his voice. Before I recovered sufficiently to see and hear, it began to be dawn, and, Nelly, I’ll tell you what I thought, and what has kept recurring and recurring till I feared for my reason. I thought as I lay there, with my head against that table leg, and my eyes dimly discerning the grey square of the window, that I was enclosed in the oak-panelled bed at home; and my heart ached with some great grief which, just waking, I could not recollect. I pondered, and worried myself to discover what it could be, and, most strangely, the whole last seven years of my life grew a blank! I did not recall that they had been at all. I was a child; my father was just buried, and my misery arose from the separation that Hindley had ordered between me and Heathcliff. I was laid alone, for the first time; and, rousing from a dismal doze after a night of weeping, I lifted my hand to push the panels aside: it struck the table-top! I swept it along the carpet, and then memory burst in: my late anguish was swallowed in a paroxysm of despair. I cannot say why I felt so wildly wretched: it must have been temporary derangement; for there is scarcely cause. But, supposing at twelve years old I had been wrenched from the Heights, and every early association, and my all in all, as Heathcliff was at that time, and been converted at a stroke into Mrs. Linton, the lady of Thrushcross Grange, and the wife of a stranger: an exile, and outcast, thenceforth, from what had been my world. You may fancy a glimpse of the abyss where I grovelled! Shake your head as you will, Nelly, you have helped to unsettle me! You should have spoken to Edgar, indeed you should, and compelled him to leave me quiet! Oh, I’m burning! I wish I were out of doors! I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed? why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words? I’m sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills. Open the window again wide: fasten it open! Quick, why don’t you move?’ ‘Because I won’t give you your death of cold,’ I answered. ‘You won’t give me a chance of life, you mean,’ she said, sullenly. ‘However, I’m not helpless yet; I’ll open it myself.’ And sliding from the bed before I could hinder her, she crossed the room, walking very uncertainly, threw it back, and bent out, careless of the frosty air that cut about her shoulders as keen as a knife. I entreated, and finally attempted to force her to retire. But I soon found her delirious strength much surpassed mine (she was delirious, I became convinced by her subsequent actions and ravings). There was no moon, and everything beneath lay in misty darkness: not a light gleamed from any house, far or near all had been extinguished long ago: and those at Wuthering Heights were never visible still she asserted she caught their shining. ‘Look!’ she cried eagerly, ‘that’s my room with the candle in it, and the trees swaying before it; and the other candle is in Joseph’s garret. Joseph sits up late, doesn’t he? He’s waiting till I come home that he may lock the gate. Well, he’ll wait a while yet. It’s a rough journey, and a sad heart to travel it; and we must pass by Gimmerton Kirk to go that journey! We’ve braved its ghosts often together, and dared each other to stand among the graves and ask them to come. But, Heathcliff, if I dare you now, will you venture? If you do, I’ll keep you. I’ll not lie there by myself: they may bury me twelve feet deep, and throw the church down over me, but I won’t rest till you are with me. I never will!’ She paused, and resumed with a strange smile. ‘He’s considering he’d rather I’d come to him! Find a way, then! not through that kirkyard. You are slow! Be content, you always followed me!’ Perceiving it vain to argue against her insanity, I was planning how I could reach something to wrap about her, without quitting my hold of herself (for I could not trust her alone by the gaping lattice), when, to my consternation, I heard the rattle of the door-handle, and Mr. Linton entered. He had only then come from the library; and, in passing through the lobby, had noticed our talking and been attracted by curiosity, or fear, to examine what it signified, at that late hour. ‘Oh, sir!’ I cried, checking the exclamation risen to his lips at the sight which met him, and the bleak atmosphere of the chamber. ‘My poor mistress is ill, and she quite masters me: I cannot manage her at all; pray, come and persuade her to go to bed. Forget your anger, for she’s hard to guide any way but her own.’ ‘Catherine ill?’ he said, hastening to us. ‘Shut the window, Ellen! Catherine! why ‘ He was silent. The haggardness of Mrs. Linton’s appearance smote him speechless, and he could only glance from her to me in horrified astonishment. ‘She’s been fretting here,’ I continued, ‘and eating scarcely anything, and never complaining: she would admit none of us till this evening, and so we couldn’t inform you of her state, as we were not aware of it ourselves; but it is nothing.’ I felt I uttered my explanations awkwardly; the master frowned. ‘It is nothing, is it, Ellen Dean?’ he said sternly. ‘You shall account more clearly for keeping me ignorant of this!’ And he took his wife in his arms, and looked at her with anguish. At first she gave him no glance of recognition: he was invisible to her abstracted gaze. The delirium was not fixed, however; having weaned her eyes from contemplating the outer darkness, by degrees she centred her attention on him, and discovered who it was that held her. ‘Ah! you are come, are you, Edgar Linton?’ she said, with angry animation. ‘You are one of those things that are ever found when least wanted, and when you are wanted, never! I suppose we shall have plenty of lamentations now I see we shall but they can’t keep me from my narrow home out yonder: my resting-place, where I’m bound before spring is over! There it is: not among the Lintons, mind, under the chapel-roof, but in the open air, with a head-stone; and you may please yourself whether you go to them or come to me!’ ‘Catherine, what have you done?’ commenced the master. ‘Am I nothing to you any more? Do you love that wretch Heath ‘ ‘Hush!’ cried Mrs. Linton. ‘Hush, this moment! You mention that name and I end the matter instantly by a spring from the window! What you touch at present you may have; but my soul will be on that hill-top before you lay hands on me again. I don’t want you, Edgar: I’m past wanting you. Return to your books. I’m glad you possess a consolation, for all you had in me is gone.’ ‘Her mind wanders, sir,’ I interposed. ‘She has been talking nonsense the whole evening; but let her have quiet, and proper attendance, and she’ll rally. Hereafter, we must be cautious how we vex her.’ ‘I desire no further advice from you,’ answered Mr. Linton. ‘You knew your mistress’s nature, and you encouraged me to harass her. And not to give me one hint of how she has been these three days! It was heartless! Months of sickness could not cause such a change!’ I began to defend myself, thinking it too bad to be blamed for another’s wicked waywardness. ‘I knew Mrs. Linton’s nature to be headstrong and domineering,’ cried I: ‘but I didn’t know that you wished to foster her fierce temper! I didn’t know that, to humour her, I should wink at Mr. Heathcliff. I performed the duty of a faithful servant in telling you, and I have got a faithful servant’s wages! Well, it will teach me to be careful next time. Next time you may gather intelligence for yourself!’ ‘The next time you bring a tale to me you shall quit my service, Ellen Dean,’ he replied. ‘You’d rather hear nothing about it, I suppose, then, Mr. Linton?’ said I. ‘Heathcliff has your permission to come a-courting to Miss, and to drop in at every opportunity your absence offers, on purpose to poison the mistress against you?’ Confused as Catherine was, her wits were alert at applying our conversation. ‘Ah! Nelly has played traitor,’ she exclaimed, passionately. ‘Nelly is my hidden enemy. You witch! So you do seek elf-bolts to hurt us! Let me go, and I’ll make her rue! I’ll make her howl a recantation!’ A maniac’s fury kindled under her brows; she struggled desperately to disengage herself from Linton’s arms. I felt no inclination to tarry the event; and, resolving to seek medical aid on my own responsibility, I quitted the chamber. In passing the garden to reach the road, at a place where a bridle hook is driven into the wall, I saw something white moved irregularly, evidently by another agent than the wind. Notwithstanding my hurry, I stayed to examine it, lest ever after I should have the conviction impressed on my imagination that it was a creature of the other world. My surprise and perplexity were great on discovering, by touch more than vision, Miss Isabella’s springer, Fanny, suspended by a handkerchief, and nearly at its last gasp. I quickly released the animal, and lifted it into the garden. I had seen it follow its mistress up-stairs when she went to bed; and wondered much how it could have got out there, and what mischievous person had treated it so. While untying the knot round the hook, it seemed to me that I repeatedly caught the beat of horses’ feet galloping at some distance; but there were such a number of things to occupy my reflections that I hardly gave the circumstance a thought: though it was a strange sound, in that place, at two o’clock in the morning. Mr. Kenneth was fortunately just issuing from his house to see a patient in the village as I came up the street; and my account of Catherine Linton’s malady induced him to accompany me back immediately. He was a plain rough man; and he made no scruple to speak his doubts of her surviving this second attack; unless she were more submissive to his directions than she had shown herself before. ‘Nelly Dean,’ said he, ‘I can’t help fancying there’s an extra cause for this. What has there been to do at the Grange? We’ve odd reports up here. A stout, hearty lass like Catherine does not fall ill for a trifle; and that sort of people should not either. It’s hard work bringing them through fevers, and such things. How did it begin?’ ‘The master will inform you,’ I answered; ‘but you are acquainted with the Earnshaws’ violent dispositions, and Mrs. Linton caps them all. I may say this; it commenced in a quarrel. She was struck during a tempest of passion with a kind of fit. That’s her account, at least: for she flew off in the height of it, and locked herself up. Afterwards, she refused to eat, and now she alternately raves and remains in a half dream; knowing those about her, but having her mind filled with all sorts of strange ideas and illusions.’ ‘Mr. Linton will be sorry?’ observed Kenneth, interrogatively. ‘ Sorry? he’ll break his heart should anything happen!’ I replied. ‘Don’t alarm him more than necessary.’ ‘Well, I told him to beware,’ said my companion; ‘and he must bide the consequences of neglecting my warning! Hasn’t he been intimate with Mr. Heathcliff lately?’ ‘Heathcliff frequently visits at the Grange,’ answered I, ‘though more on the strength of the mistress having known him when a boy, than because the master likes his company. At present he’s discharged from the trouble of calling; owing to some presumptuous aspirations after Miss Linton which he manifested. I hardly think he’ll be taken in again.’ ‘And does Miss Linton turn a cold shoulder on him?’ was the doctor’s next question. ‘I’m not in her confidence,’ returned I, reluctant to continue the subject. ‘No, she’s a sly one,’ he remarked, shaking his head. ‘She keeps her own counsel! But she’s a real little fool. I have it from good authority that last night (and a pretty night it was!) she and Heathcliff were walking in the plantation at the back of your house above two hours; and he pressed her not to go in again, but just mount his horse and away with him! My informant said she could only put him off by pledging her word of honour to be prepared on their first meeting after that: when it was to be he didn’t hear; but you urge Mr. Linton to look sharp!’ This news filled me with fresh fears; I outstripped Kenneth, and ran most of the way back. The little dog was yelping in the garden yet. I spared a minute to open the gate for it, but instead of going to the house door, it coursed up and down snuffing the grass, and would have escaped to the road, had I not seized it and conveyed it in with me. On ascending to Isabella’s room, my suspicions were confirmed: it was empty. Had I been a few hours sooner Mrs. Linton’s illness might have arrested her rash step. But what could be done now? There was a bare possibility of overtaking them if pursued instantly. I could not pursue them, however; and I dared not rouse the family, and fill the place with confusion; still less unfold the business to my master, absorbed as he was in his present calamity, and having no heart to spare for a second grief! I saw nothing for it but to hold my tongue, and suffer matters to take their course; and Kenneth being arrived, I went with a badly composed countenance to announce him. Catherine lay in a troubled sleep: her husband had succeeded in soothing the excess of frenzy; he now hung over her pillow, watching every shade and every change of her painfully expressive features. The doctor, on examining the case for himself, spoke hopefully to him of its having a favourable termination, if we could only preserve around her perfect and constant tranquillity. To me, he signified the threatening danger was not so much death, as permanent alienation of intellect. I did not close my eyes that night, nor did Mr. Linton: indeed, we never went to bed; and the servants were all up long before the usual hour, moving through the house with stealthy tread, and exchanging whispers as they encountered each other in their vocations. Every one was active but Miss Isabella; and they began to remark how sound she slept: her brother, too, asked if she had risen, and seemed impatient for her presence, and hurt that she showed so little anxiety for her sister-in-law. I trembled lest he should send me to call her; but I was spared the pain of being the first proclaimant of her flight. One of the maids, a thoughtless girl, who had been on an early errand to Gimmerton, came panting up-stairs, open-mouthed, and dashed into the chamber, crying: ‘Oh, dear, dear! What mun we have next? Master, master, our young lady ‘ ‘Hold your noise!’ cried, I hastily, enraged at her clamorous manner. ‘Speak lower, Mary What is the matter?’ said Mr. Linton. ‘What ails your young lady?’ ‘She’s gone, she’s gone! Yon’ Heathcliff’s run off wi’ her!’ gasped the girl. ‘That is not true!’ exclaimed Linton, rising in agitation. ‘It cannot be: how has the idea entered your head? Ellen Dean, go and seek her. It is incredible: it cannot be.’ As he spoke he took the servant to the door, and then repeated his demand to know her reasons for such an assertion. ‘Why, I met on the road a lad that fetches milk here,’ she stammered, ‘and he asked whether we weren’t in trouble at the Grange. I thought he meant for missis’s sickness, so I answered, yes. Then says he, ‘There’s somebody gone after ‘em, I guess?’ I stared. He saw I knew nought about it, and he told how a gentleman and lady had stopped to have a horse’s shoe fastened at a blacksmith’s shop, two miles out of Gimmerton, not very long after midnight! and how the blacksmith’s lass had got up to spy who they were: she knew them both directly. And she noticed the man Heathcliff it was, she felt certain: nob’dy could mistake him, besides put a sovereign in her father’s hand for payment. The lady had a cloak about her face; but having desired a sup of water, while she drank it fell back, and she saw her very plain. Heathcliff held both bridles as they rode on, and they set their faces from the village, and went as fast as the rough roads would let them. The lass said nothing to her father, but she told it all over Gimmerton this morning.’ I ran and peeped, for form’s sake, into Isabella’s room; confirming, when I returned, the servant’s statement. Mr. Linton had resumed his seat by the bed; on my re-entrance, he raised his eyes, read the meaning of my blank aspect, and dropped them without giving an order, or uttering a word. ‘Are we to try any measures for overtaking and bringing her back,’ I inquired. ‘How should we do?’ ‘She went of her own accord,’ answered the master; ‘she had a right to go if she pleased. Trouble me no more about her. Hereafter she is only my sister in name: not because I disown her, but because she has disowned me.’ And that was all he said on the subject: he did not make single inquiry further, or mention her in any way, except directing me to send what property she had in the house to her fresh home, wherever it was, when I knew it. Chapter XIII FOR two months the fugitives remained absent; in those two months, Mrs. Linton encountered and conquered the worst shock of what was denominated a brain fever. No mother could have nursed an only child more devotedly than Edgar tended her. Day and night he was watching, and patiently enduring all the annoyances that irritable nerves and a shaken reason could inflict; and, though Kenneth remarked that what he saved from the grave would only recompense his care by forming the source of constant future anxiety in fact, that his health and strength were being sacrificed to preserve a mere ruin of humanity he knew no limits in gratitude and joy when Catherine’s life was declared out of danger; and hour after hour he would sit beside her, tracing the gradual return to bodily health, and flattering his too sanguine hopes with the illusion that her mind would settle back to its right balance also, and she would soon be entirely her former self. The first time she left her chamber was at the commencement of the following March. Mr. Linton had put on her pillow, in the morning, a handful of golden crocuses; her eye, long stranger to any gleam of pleasure, caught them in waking, and shone delighted as she gathered them eagerly together. ‘These are the earliest flowers at the Heights,’ she exclaimed. ‘They remind me of soft thaw winds, and warm sunshine, and nearly melted snow. Edgar, is there not a south wind, and is not the snow almost gone?’ ‘The snow is quite gone down here, darling,’ replied her husband; ‘and I only see two white spots on the whole range of moors: the sky is blue, and the larks are singing, and the becks and brooks are all brim full. Catherine, last spring at this time, I was longing to have you under this roof; now, I wish you were a mile or two up those hills: the air blows so sweetly, I feel that it would cure you.’ ‘I shall never be there but once more,’ said the invalid; ‘and then you’ll leave me, and I shall remain for ever. Next spring you’ll long again to have me under this roof, and you’ll look back and think you were happy to-day.’ Linton lavished on her the kindest caresses, and tried to cheer her by the fondest words; but, vaguely regarding the flowers, she let the tears collect on her lashes and stream down her cheeks unheeding. We knew she was really better, and, therefore, decided that long confinement to a single place produced much of this despondency, and it might be partially removed by a change of scene. The master told me to light a fire in the many-weeks’ deserted parlour, and to set an easy-chair in the sunshine by the window; and then he brought her down, and she sat a long while enjoying the genial heat, and, as we expected, revived by the objects round her: which, though familiar, were free from the dreary associations investing her hated sick chamber. By evening she seemed greatly exhausted; yet no arguments could persuade her to return to that apartment, and I had to arrange the parlour sofa for her bed, till another room could be prepared. To obviate the fatigue of mounting and descending the stairs, we fitted up this, where you lie at present on the same floor with the parlour; and she was soon strong enough to move from one to the other, leaning on Edgar’s arm. Ah, I thought myself, she might recover, so waited on as she was. And there was double cause to desire it, for on her existence depended that of another: we cherished the hope that in a little while Mr. Linton’s heart would be gladdened, and his lands secured from a stranger’s gripe, by the birth of an heir. I should mention that Isabella sent to her brother, some six weeks from her departure, a short note, announcing her marriage with Heathcliff. It appeared dry and cold; but at the bottom was dotted in with pencil an obscure apology, and an entreaty for kind remembrance and reconciliation, if her proceeding had offended him: asserting that she could not help it then, and being done, she had now no power to repeal it. Linton did not reply to this, I believe; and, in a fortnight more, I got a long letter, which I considered odd, coming from the pen of a bride just out of the honeymoon. I’ll read it: for I keep it yet. Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living. DEAR ELLEN, it begins, I came last night to Wuthering Heights, and heard, for the first time, that Catherine has been, and is yet, very ill. I must not write to her, I suppose, and my brother is either too angry or too distressed to answer what I sent him. Still, I must write to somebody, and the only choice left me is you. Inform Edgar that I’d give the world to see his face again that my heart returned to Thrushcross Grange in twenty-four hours after I left it, and is there at this moment, full of warm feelings for him, and Catherine! I CAN’T FOLLOW IT THOUGH (these words are underlined) they need not expect me, and they may draw what conclusions they please; taking care, however, to lay nothing at the door of my weak will or deficient affection. The remainder of the letter is for yourself alone. I want to ask you two questions: the first is, How did you contrive to preserve the common sympathies of human nature when you resided here? I cannot recognise any sentiment which those around share with me. The second question I have great interest in; it is this Is Mr. Heathcliff a man? If so, is he mad? And if not, is he a devil? I sha’n’t tell my reasons for making this inquiry; but I beseech you to explain, if you can, what I have married: that is, when you call to see me; and you must call, Ellen, very soon. Don’t write, but come, and bring me something from Edgar. Now, you shall hear how I have been received in my new home, as I am led to imagine the Heights will be. It is to amuse myself that I dwell on such subjects as the lack of external comforts: they never occupy my thoughts, except at the moment when I miss them. I should laugh and dance for joy, if I found their absence was the total of my miseries, and the rest was an unnatural dream! The sun set behind the Grange as we turned on to the moors; by that, I judged it to be six o’clock; and my companion halted half an hour, to inspect the park, and the gardens, and, probably, the place itself, as well as he could; so it was dark when we dismounted in the paved yard of the farm-house, and your old fellow-servant, Joseph, issued out to receive us by the light of a dip candle. He did it with a courtesy that redounded to his credit. His first act was to elevate his torch to a level with my face, squint malignantly, project his under-lip, and turn away. Then he took the two horses, and led them into the stables; reappearing for the purpose of locking the outer gate, as if we lived in an ancient castle. Heathcliff stayed to speak to him, and I entered the kitchen a dingy, untidy hole; I daresay you would not know it, it is so changed since it was in your charge. By the fire stood a ruffianly child, strong in limb and dirty in garb, with a look of Catherine in his eyes and about his mouth. ‘This is Edgar’s legal nephew,’ I reflected ‘mine in a manner; I must shake hands, and yes I must kiss him. It is right to establish a good understanding at the beginning.’ I approached, and, attempting to take his chubby fist, said ‘How do you do, my dear?’ He replied in a jargon I did not comprehend. ‘Shall you and I be friends, Hareton?’ was my next essay at conversation. An oath, and a threat to set Throttler on me if I did not ‘frame off’ rewarded my perseverance. ‘Hey, Throttler, lad!’ whispered the little wretch, rousing a halfbred bull-dog from its lair in a corner. ‘Now, wilt thou be ganging?’ he asked authoritatively. Love for my life urged a compliance; I stepped over the threshold to wait till the others should enter. Mr. Heathcliff was nowhere visible; and Joseph, whom I followed to the stables, and requested to accompany me in, after staring and muttering to himself, screwed up his nose and replied ‘Mim! mim! mim! Did iver Christian body hear aught like it? Mincing un’ munching! How can I tell whet ye say?’ ‘I say, I wish you to come with me into the house!’ I cried, thinking him deaf, yet highly disgusted at his rudeness. ‘None o’ me! I getten summut else to do,’ he answered, and continued his work; moving his lantern jaws meanwhile, and surveying my dress and countenance (the former a great deal too fine, but the latter, I’m sure, as sad as he could desire) with sovereign contempt. I walked round the yard, and through a wicket, to another door, at which I took the liberty of knocking, in hopes some more civil servant might show himself. After a short suspense, it was opened by a tall, gaunt man, without neckerchief, and otherwise extremely slovenly; his features were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung on his shoulders; and HIS eyes, too, were like a ghostly Catherine’s with all their beauty annihilated. ‘What’s your business here?’ he demanded, grimly. ‘Who are you?’ ‘My name was Isabella Linton,’ I replied. ‘You’ve seen me before, sir. I’m lately married to Mr. Heathcliff, and he has brought me here I suppose, by your permission.’ ‘Is he come back, then?’ asked the hermit, glaring like a hungry wolf. ‘Yes we came just now,’ I said; ‘but he left me by the kitchen door; and when I would have gone in, your little boy played sentinel over the place, and frightened me off by the help of a bull-dog.’ ‘It’s well the hellish villain has kept his word!’ growled my future host, searching the darkness beyond me in expectation of discovering Heathcliff; and then he indulged in a soliloquy of execrations, and threats of what he would have done had the ‘fiend’ deceived him. I repented having tried this second entrance, and was almost inclined to slip away before he finished cursing, but ere I could execute that intention, he ordered me in, and shut and re-fastened the door. There was a great fire, and that was all the light in the huge apartment, whose floor had grown a uniform grey; and the once brilliant pewter-dishes, which used to attract my gaze when I was a girl, partook of a similar obscurity, created by tarnish and dust. I inquired whether I might call the maid, and be conducted to a bedroom! Mr. Earnshaw vouchsafed no answer. He walked up and down, with his hands in his pockets, apparently quite forgetting my presence; and his abstraction was evidently so deep, and his whole aspect so misanthropical, that I shrank from disturbing him again. You’ll not be surprised, Ellen, at my feeling particularly cheerless, seated in worse than solitude on that inhospitable hearth, and remembering that four miles distant lay my delightful home, containing the only people I loved on earth; and there might as well be the Atlantic to part us, instead of those four miles: I could not overpass them! I questioned with myself where must I turn for comfort? and mind you don’t tell Edgar, or Catherine above every sorrow beside, this rose pre-eminent: despair at finding nobody who could or would be my ally against Heathcliff! I had sought shelter at Wuthering Heights, almost gladly, because I was secured by that arrangement from living alone with him; but he knew the people we were coming amongst, and he did not fear their intermeddling. I sat and thought a doleful time: the clock struck eight, and nine, and still my companion paced to and fro, his head bent on his breast, and perfectly silent, unless a groan or a bitter ejaculation forced itself out at intervals. I listened to detect a woman’s voice in the house, and filled the interim with wild regrets and dismal anticipations, which, at last, spoke audibly in irrepressible sighing and weeping. I was not aware how openly I grieved, till Earnshaw halted opposite, in his measured walk, and gave me a stare of newly-awakened surprise. Taking advantage of his recovered attention, I exclaimed ‘I’m tired with my journey, and I want to go to bed! Where is the maid-servant? Direct me to her, as she won’t come to me!’ ‘We have none,’ he answered; ‘you must wait on yourself!’ ‘Where must I sleep, then?’ I sobbed; I was beyond regarding selfrespect, weighed down by fatigue and wretchedness. ‘Joseph will show you Heathcliff’s chamber,’ said he; ‘open that door he’s in there.’ I was going to obey, but he suddenly arrested me, and added in the strangest tone ‘Be so good as to turn your lock, and draw your bolt don’t omit it!’ ‘Well!’ I said. ‘But why, Mr. Earnshaw?’ I did not relish the notion of deliberately fastening myself in with Heathcliff. ‘Look here!’ he replied, pulling from his waistcoat a curiouslyconstructed pistol, having a double-edged spring knife attached to the barrel. ‘That’s a great tempter to a desperate man, is it not? I cannot resist going up with this every night, and trying his door. If once I find it open he’s done for; I do it invariably, even though the minute before I have been recalling a hundred reasons that should make me refrain: it is some devil that urges me to thwart my own schemes by killing him. You fight against that devil for love as long as you may; when the time comes, not all the angels in heaven shall save him!’ I surveyed the weapon inquisitively. A hideous notion struck me: how powerful I should be possessing such an instrument! I took it from his hand, and touched the blade. He looked astonished at the expression my face assumed during a brief second: it was not horror, it was covetousness. He snatched the pistol back, jealously; shut the knife, and returned it to its concealment. ‘I don’t care if you tell him,’ said he. ‘Put him on his guard, and watch for him. You know the terms we are on, I see: his danger does not shock you.’ ‘What has Heathcliff done to you?’ I asked. ‘In what has he wronged you, to warrant this appalling hatred? Wouldn’t it be wiser to bid him quit the house?’ ‘No!’ thundered Earnshaw; ‘should he offer to leave me, he’s a dead man: persuade him to attempt it, and you are a murderess! Am I to lose ALL, without a chance of retrieval? Is Hareton to be a beggar? Oh, damnation! I WILL have it back; and I’ll have HIS gold too; and then his blood; and hell shall have his soul! It will be ten times blacker with that guest than ever it was before!’ You’ve acquainted me, Ellen, with your old master’s habits. He is clearly on the verge of madness: he was so last night at least. I shuddered to be near him, and thought on the servant’s ill-bred moroseness as comparatively agreeable. He now recommenced his moody walk, and I raised the latch, and escaped into the kitchen. Joseph was bending over the fire, peering into a large pan that swung above it; and a wooden bowl of oatmeal stood on the settle close by. The contents of the pan began to boil, and he turned to plunge his hand into the bowl; I conjectured that this preparation was probably for our supper, and, being hungry, I resolved it should be eatable; so, crying out sharply, ‘I’LL make the porridge!’ I removed the vessel out of his reach, and proceeded to take off my hat and riding-habit. ‘Mr. Earnshaw,’ I continued, ‘directs me to wait on myself: I will. I’m not going to act the lady among you, for fear I should starve.’ ‘Gooid Lord!’ he muttered, sitting down, and stroking his ribbed stockings from the knee to the ankle. ‘If there’s to be fresh ortherings just when I getten used to two maisters, if I mun hev’ a MISTRESS set o’er my heead, it’s like time to be flitting. I niver DID think to see t’ day that I mud lave th’ owld place but I doubt it’s nigh at hand!’ This lamentation drew no notice from me: I went briskly to work, sighing to remember a period when it would have been all merry fun; but compelled speedily to drive off the remembrance. It racked me to recall past happiness and the greater peril there was of conjuring up its apparition, the quicker the thible ran round, and the faster the handfuls of meal fell into the water. Joseph beheld my style of cookery with growing indignation. ‘Thear!’ he ejaculated. ‘Hareton, thou willn’t sup thy porridge to-neeght; they’ll be naught but lumps as big as my neive. Thear, agean! I’d fling in bowl un’ all, if I wer ye! There, pale t’ guilp off, un’ then ye’ll hae done wi’ ‘t. Bang, bang. It’s a mercy t’ bothom isn’t deaved out!’ It WAS rather a rough mess, I own, when poured into the basins; four had been provided, and a gallon pitcher of new milk was brought from the dairy, which Hareton seized and commenced drinking and spilling from the expansive lip. I expostulated, and desired that he should have his in a mug; affirming that I could not taste the liquid treated so dirtily. The old cynic chose to be vastly offended at this nicety; assuring me, repeatedly, that ‘the barn was every bit as good’ as I, ‘and every bit as wollsome,’ and wondering how I could fashion to be so conceited. Meanwhile, the infant ruffian continued sucking; and glowered up at me defyingly, as he slavered into the jug. ‘I shall have my supper in another room,’ I said. ‘Have you no place you call a parlour?’ ‘PARLOUR!’ he echoed, sneeringly, ‘PARLOUR! Nay, we’ve noa PARLOURS. If yah dunnut loike wer company, there’s maister’s; un’ if yah dunnut loike maister, there’s us.’ ‘Then I shall go up-stairs,’ I answered; ‘show me a chamber.’ I put my basin on a tray, and went myself to fetch some more milk. With great grumblings, the fellow rose, and preceded me in my ascent: we mounted to the garrets; he opened a door, now and then, to look into the apartments we passed. ‘Here’s a rahm,’ he said, at last, flinging back a cranky board on hinges. ‘It’s weel eneugh to ate a few porridge in. There’s a pack o’ corn i’ t’ corner, thear, meeterly clane; if ye’re feared o’ muckying yer grand silk cloes, spread yer hankerchir o’ t’ top on’t.’ The ‘rahm’ was a kind of lumber-hole smelling strong of malt and grain; various sacks of which articles were piled around, leaving a wide, bare space in the middle. ‘Why, man,’ I exclaimed, facing him angrily, ‘this is not a place to sleep in. I wish to see my bed-room.’ ‘BED-RUME!’ he repeated, in a tone of mockery. ‘Yah’s see all t’ BED-RUMES thear is yon’s mine.’ He pointed into the second garret, only differing from the first in being more naked about the walls, and having a large, low, curtainless bed, with an indigo-coloured quilt, at one end. ‘What do I want with yours?’ I retorted. ‘I suppose Mr. Heathcliff does not lodge at the top of the house, does he?’ ‘Oh! it’s Maister HATHECLIFF’S ye’re wanting?’ cried he, as if making a new discovery. ‘Couldn’t ye ha’ said soa, at onst? un’ then, I mud ha’ telled ye, baht all this wark, that that’s just one ye cannut see he allas keeps it locked, un’ nob’dy iver mells on’t but hisseln.’ ‘You’ve a nice house, Joseph,’ I could not refrain from observing, ‘and pleasant inmates; and I think the concentrated essence of all the madness in the world took up its abode in my brain the day I linked my fate with theirs! However, that is not to the present purpose there are other rooms. For heaven’s sake be quick, and let me settle somewhere!’ He made no reply to this adjuration; only plodding doggedly down the wooden steps, and halting, before an apartment which, from that halt and the superior quality of its furniture, I conjectured to be the best one. There was a carpet a good one, but the pattern was obliterated by dust; a fireplace hung with cut-paper, dropping to pieces; a handsome oak-bedstead with ample crimson curtains of rather expensive material and modern make; but they had evidently experienced rough usage: the vallances hung in festoons, wrenched from their rings, and the iron rod supporting them was bent in an arc on one side, causing the drapery to trail upon the floor. The chairs were also damaged, many of them severely; and deep indentations deformed the panels of the walls. I was endeavouring to gather resolution for entering and taking possession, when my fool of a guide announced, ‘This here is t’ maister’s.’ My supper by this time was cold, my appetite gone, and my patience exhausted. I insisted on being provided instantly with a place of refuge, and means of repose. ‘Whear the divil?’ began the religious elder. ‘The Lord bless us! The Lord forgie us! Whear the HELL wdd ye gang? ye marred, wearisome nowt! Ye’ve seen all but Hareton’s bit of a cham’er. There’s not another hoile to lig down in i’ th’ hahse!’ I was so vexed, I flung my tray and its contents on the ground; and then seated myself at the stairs’-head, hid my face in my hands, and cried. ‘Ech! ech!’ exclaimed Joseph. ‘Weel done, Miss Cathy! weel done, Miss Cathy! Howsiver, t’ maister sall just tum’le o’er them brooken pots; un’ then we’s hear summut; we’s hear how it’s to be. Gooid-for-naught madling! ye desarve pining fro’ this to Churstmas, flinging t’ precious gifts o’God under fooit i’ yer flaysome rages! But I’m mista’en if ye shew yer sperrit lang. Will Hathecliff bide sich bonny ways, think ye? I nobbut wish he may catch ye i’ that plisky. I nobbut wish he may.’ And so he went on scolding to his den beneath, taking the candle with him; and I remained in the dark. The period of reflection succeeding this silly action compelled me to admit the necessity of smothering my pride and choking my wrath, and bestirring myself to remove its effects. An unexpected aid presently appeared in the shape of Throttler, whom I now recognised as a son of our old Skulker: it had spent its whelphood at the Grange, and was given by my father to Mr. Hindley. I fancy it knew me: it pushed its nose against mine by way of salute, and then hastened to devour the porridge; while I groped from step to step, collecting the shattered earthenware, and drying the spatters of milk from the banister with my pocket-handkerchief. Our labours were scarcely over when I heard Earnshaw’s tread in the passage; my assistant tucked in his tail, and pressed to the wall; I stole into the nearest doorway. The dog’s endeavour to avoid him was unsuccessful; as I guessed by a scutter down-stairs, and a prolonged, piteous yelping. I had better luck: he passed on, entered his chamber, and shut the door. Directly after Joseph came up with Hareton, to put him to bed. I had found shelter in Hareton’s room, and the old man, on seeing me, said, ‘They’s rahm for boath ye un’ yer pride, now, I sud think i’ the hahse. It’s empty; ye may hev’ it all to yerseln, un’ Him as allus maks a third, i’ sich ill company!’ Gladly did I take advantage of this intimation; and the minute I flung myself into a chair, by the fire, I nodded, and slept. My slumber was deep and sweet, though over far too soon. Mr. Heathcliff awoke me; he had just come in, and demanded, in his loving manner, what I was doing there? I told him the cause of my staying up so late that he had the key of our room in his pocket. The adjective OUR gave mortal offence. He swore it was not, nor ever should be, mine; and he’d but I’ll not repeat his language, nor describe his habitual conduct: he is ingenious and unresting in seeking to gain my abhorrence! I sometimes wonder at him with an intensity that deadens my fear: yet, I assure you, a tiger or a venomous serpent could not rouse terror in me equal to that which he wakens. He told me of Catherine’s illness, and accused my brother of causing it promising that I should be Edgar’s proxy in suffering, till he could get hold of him. I do hate him I am wretched I have been a fool! Beware of uttering one breath of this to any one at the Grange. I shall expect you every day don’t disappoint me! ISABELLA. Chapter XIV AS soon as I had perused this epistle I went to the master, and informed him that his sister had arrived at the Heights, and sent me a letter expressing her sorrow for Mrs. Linton’s situation, and her ardent desire to see him; with a wish that he would transmit to her, as early as possible, some token of forgiveness by me. ‘Forgiveness!’ said Linton. ‘I have nothing to forgive her, Ellen. You may call at Wuthering Heights this afternoon, if you like, and say that I am not angry, but I’m sorry to have lost her; especially as I can never think she’ll be happy. It is out of the question my going to see her, however: we are eternally divided; and should she really wish to oblige me, let her persuade the villain she has married to leave the country.’ ‘And you won’t write her a little note, sir?’ I asked, imploringly. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘It is needless. My communication with Heathcliff’s family shall be as sparing as his with mine. It shall not exist!’ Mr. Edgar’s coldness depressed me exceedingly; and all the way from the Grange I puzzled my brains how to put more heart into what he said, when I repeated it; and how to soften his refusal of even a few lines to console Isabella. I daresay she had been on the watch for me since morning: I saw her looking through the lattice as I came up the garden causeway, and I nodded to her; but she drew back, as if afraid of being observed. I entered without knocking. There never was such a dreary, dismal scene as the formerly cheerful house presented! I must confess, that if I had been in the young lady’s place, I would, at least, have swept the hearth, and wiped the tables with a duster. But she already partook of the pervading spirit of neglect which encompassed her. Her pretty face was wan and listless; her hair uncurled: some locks hanging lankly down, and some carelessly twisted round her head. Probably she had not touched her dress since yester evening. Hindley was not there. Mr. Heathcliff sat at a table, turning over some papers in his pocket-book; but he rose when I appeared, asked me how I did, quite friendly, and offered me a chair. He was the only thing there that seemed decent; and I thought he never looked better. So much had circumstances altered their positions, that he would certainly have struck a stranger as a born and bred gentleman; and his wife as a thorough little slattern! She came forward eagerly to greet me, and held out one hand to take the expected letter. I shook my head. She wouldn’t understand the hint, but followed me to a sideboard, where I went to lay my bonnet, and importuned me in a whisper to give her directly what I had brought. Heathcliff guessed the meaning of her manoeuvres, and said ‘If you have got anything for Isabella (as no doubt you have, Nelly), give it to her. You needn’t make a secret of it: we have no secrets between us.’ ‘Oh, I have nothing,’ I replied, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. ‘My master bid me tell his sister that she must not expect either a letter or a visit from him at present. He sends his love, ma’am, and his wishes for your happiness, and his pardon for the grief you have occasioned; but he thinks that after this time his household and the household here should drop intercommunication, as nothing could come of keeping it up.’ Mrs. Heathcliff’s lip quivered slightly, and she returned to her seat in the window. Her husband took his stand on the hearthstone, near me, and began to put questions concerning Catherine. I told him as much as I thought proper of her illness, and he extorted from me, by cross-examination, most of the facts connected with its origin. I blamed her, as she deserved, for bringing it all on herself; and ended by hoping that he would follow Mr. Linton’s example and avoid future interference with his family, for good or evil. ‘Mrs. Linton is now just recovering,’ I said; ‘she’ll never be like she was, but her life is spared; and if you really have a regard for her, you’ll shun crossing her way again: nay, you’ll move out of this country entirely; and that you may not regret it, I’ll inform you Catherine Linton is as different now from your old friend Catherine Earnshaw, as that young lady is different from me. Her appearance is changed greatly, her character much more so; and the person who is compelled, of necessity, to be her companion, will only sustain his affection hereafter by the remembrance of what she once was, by common humanity, and a sense of duty!’ ‘That is quite possible,’ remarked Heathcliff, forcing himself to seem calm: ‘quite possible that your master should have nothing but common humanity and a sense of duty to fall back upon. But do you imagine that I shall leave Catherine to his DUTY and HUMANITY? and can you compare my feelings respecting Catherine to his? Before you leave this house, I must exact a promise from you that you’ll get me an interview with her: consent, or refuse, I WILL see her! What do you say?’ ‘I say, Mr. Heathcliff,’ I replied, ‘you must not: you never shall, through my means. Another encounter between you and the master would kill her altogether.’ ‘With your aid that may be avoided,’ he continued; ‘and should there be danger of such an event should he be the cause of adding a single trouble more to her existence why, I think I shall be justified in going to extremes! I wish you had sincerity enough to tell me whether Catherine would suffer greatly from his loss: the fear that she would restrains me. And there you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drunk his blood! But, till then if you don’t believe me, you don’t know me till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!’ ‘And yet,’ I interrupted, ‘you have no scruples in completely ruining all hopes of her perfect restoration, by thrusting yourself into her remembrance now, when she has nearly forgotten you, and involving her in a new tumult of discord and distress.’ ‘You suppose she has nearly forgotten me?’ he said. ‘Oh, Nelly! you know she has not! You know as well as I do, that for every thought she spends on Linton she spends a thousand on me! At a most miserable period of my life, I had a notion of the kind: it haunted me on my return to the neighbourhood last summer; but only her own assurance could make me admit the horrible idea again. And then, Linton would be nothing, nor Hindley, nor all the dreams that ever I dreamt. Two words would comprehend my future DEATH and HELL: existence, after losing her, would be hell. Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton’s attachment more than mine. If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have: the sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough as her whole affection be monopolised by him. Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog, or her horse. It is not in him to be loved like me: how can she love in him what he has not?’ ‘Catherine and Edgar are as fond of each other as any two people can be,’ cried Isabella, with sudden vivacity. ‘No one has a right to talk in that manner, and I won’t hear my brother depreciated in silence!’ ‘Your brother is wondrous fond of you too, isn’t he?’ observed Heathcliff, scornfully. ‘He turns you adrift on the world with surprising alacrity.’ ‘He is not aware of what I suffer,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t tell him that.’ ‘You have been telling him something, then: you have written, have you?’ ‘To say that I was married, I did write you saw the note.’ ‘And nothing since?’ ‘No.’ ‘My young lady is looking sadly the worse for her change of condition,’ I remarked. ‘Somebody’s love comes short in her case, obviously; whose, I may guess; but, perhaps, I shouldn’t say.’ ‘I should guess it was her own,’ said Heathcliff. ‘She degenerates into a mere slut! She is tired of trying to please me uncommonly early. You’d hardly credit it, but the very morrow of our wedding she was weeping to go home. However, she’ll suit this house so much the better for not being over nice, and I’ll take care she does not disgrace me by rambling abroad.’ ‘Well, sir,’ returned I, ‘I hope you’ll consider that Mrs. Heathcliff is accustomed to be looked after and waited on; and that she has been brought up like an only daughter, whom every one was ready to serve. You must let her have a maid to keep things tidy about her, and you must treat her kindly. Whatever be your notion of Mr. Edgar, you cannot doubt that she has a capacity for strong attachments, or she wouldn’t have abandoned the elegancies, and comforts, and friends of her former home, to fix contentedly, in such a wilderness as this, with you.’ ‘She abandoned them under a delusion,’ he answered; ‘picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and acting on the false impressions she cherished. But, at last, I think she begins to know me: I don’t perceive the silly smiles and grimaces that provoked me at first; and the senseless incapability of discerning that I was in earnest when I gave her my opinion of her infatuation and herself. It was a marvellous effort of perspicacity to discover that I did not love her. I believed, at one time, no lessons could teach her that! And yet it is poorly learnt; for this morning she announced, as a piece of appalling intelligence, that I had actually succeeded in making her hate me! A positive labour of Hercules, I assure you! If it be achieved, I have cause to return thanks. Can I trust your assertion, Isabella? Are you sure you hate me? If I let you alone for half a day, won’t you come sighing and wheedling to me again? I daresay she would rather I had seemed all tenderness before you: it wounds her vanity to have the truth exposed. But I don’t care who knows that the passion was wholly on one side: and I never told her a lie about it. She cannot accuse me of showing one bit of deceitful softness. The first thing she saw me do, on coming out of the Grange, was to hang up her little dog; and when she pleaded for it, the first words I uttered were a wish that I had the hanging of every being belonging to her, except one: possibly she took that exception for herself. But no brutality disgusted her: I suppose she has an innate admiration of it, if only her precious person were secure from injury! Now, was it not the depth of absurdity of genuine idiotcy, for that pitiful, slavish, mean-minded brach to dream that I could love her? Tell your master, Nelly, that I never, in all my life, met with such an abject thing as she is. She even disgraces the name of Linton; and I’ve sometimes relented, from pure lack of invention, in my experiments on what she could endure, and still creep shamefully cringing back! But tell him, also, to set his fraternal and magisterial heart at ease: that I keep strictly within the limits of the law. I have avoided, up to this period, giving her the slightest right to claim a separation; and, what’s more, she’d thank nobody for dividing us. If she desired to go, she might: the nuisance of her presence outweighs the gratification to be derived from tormenting her!’ ‘Mr. Heathcliff,’ said I, ‘this is the talk of a madman; your wife, most likely, is convinced you are mad; and, for that reason, she has borne with you hitherto: but now that you say she may go, she’ll doubtless avail herself of the permission. You are not so bewitched, ma’am, are you, as to remain with him of your own accord?’ ‘Take care, Ellen!’ answered Isabella, her eyes sparkling irefully; there was no misdoubting by their expression the full success of her partner’s endeavours to make himself detested. ‘Don’t put faith in a single word he speaks. He’s a lying fiend! a monster, and not a human being! I’ve been told I might leave him before; and I’ve made the attempt, but I dare not repeat it! Only, Ellen, promise you’ll not mention a syllable of his infamous conversation to my brother or Catherine. Whatever he may pretend, he wishes to provoke Edgar to desperation: he says he has married me on purpose to obtain power over him; and he sha’n’t obtain it I’ll die first! I just hope, I pray, that he may forget his diabolical prudence and kill me! The single pleasure I can imagine is to die, or to see him dead!’ ‘There that will do for the present!’ said Heathcliff. ‘If you are called upon in a court of law, you’ll remember her language, Nelly! And take a good look at that countenance: she’s near the point which would suit me. No; you’re not fit to be your own guardian, Isabella, now; and I, being your legal protector, must retain you in my custody, however distasteful the obligation may be. Go up-stairs; I have something to say to Ellen Dean in private. That’s not the way: up-stairs, I tell you! Why, this is the road upstairs, child!’ He seized, and thrust her from the room; and returned muttering ‘I have no pity! I have no pity! The more the worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething; and I grind with greater energy in proportion to the increase of pain.’ ‘Do you understand what the word pity means?’ I said, hastening to resume my bonnet. ‘Did you ever feel a touch of it in your life?’ ‘Put that down!’ he interrupted, perceiving my intention to depart. ‘You are not going yet. Come here now, Nelly: I must either persuade or compel you to aid me in fulfilling my determination to see Catherine, and that without delay. I swear that I meditate no harm: I don’t desire to cause any disturbance, or to exasperate or insult Mr. Linton; I only wish to hear from herself how she is, and why she has been ill; and to ask if anything that I could do would be of use to her. Last night I was in the Grange garden six hours, and I’ll return there to-night; and every night I’ll haunt the place, and every day, till I find an opportunity of entering. If Edgar Linton meets me, I shall not hesitate to knock him down, and give him enough to insure his quiescence while I stay. If his servants oppose me, I shall threaten them off with these pistols. But wouldn’t it be better to prevent my coming in contact with them, or their master? And you could do it so easily. I’d warn you when I came, and then you might let me in unobserved, as soon as she was alone, and watch till I departed, your conscience quite calm: you would be hindering mischief.’ I protested against playing that treacherous part in my employer’s house: and, besides, I urged the cruelty and selfishness of his destroying Mrs. Linton’s tranquillity for his satisfaction. ‘The commonest occurrence startles her painfully,’ I said. ‘She’s all nerves, and she couldn’t bear the surprise, I’m positive. Don’t persist, sir! or else I shall be obliged to inform my master of your designs; and he’ll take measures to secure his house and its inmates from any such unwarrantable intrusions!’ ‘In that case I’ll take measures to secure you, woman!’ exclaimed Heathcliff; ‘you shall not leave Wuthering Heights till to-morrow morning. It is a foolish story to assert that Catherine could not bear to see me; and as to surprising her, I don’t desire it: you must prepare her ask her if I may come. You say she never mentions my name, and that I am never mentioned to her. To whom should she mention me if I am a forbidden topic in the house? She thinks you are all spies for her husband. Oh, I’ve no doubt she’s in hell among you! I guess by her silence, as much as anything, what she feels. You say she is often restless, and anxiouslooking: is that a proof of tranquillity? You talk of her mind being unsettled. How the devil could it be otherwise in her frightful isolation? And that insipid, paltry creature attending her from DUTY and HUMANITY! From PITY and CHARITY! He might as well plant an oak in a flower-pot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares? Let us settle it at once: will you stay here, and am I to fight my way to Catherine over Linton and his footman? Or will you be my friend, as you have been hitherto, and do what I request? Decide! because there is no reason for my lingering another minute, if you persist in your stubborn ill-nature!’ Well, Mr. Lockwood, I argued and complained, and flatly refused him fifty times; but in the long run he forced me to an agreement. I engaged to carry a letter from him to my mistress; and should she consent, I promised to let him have intelligence of Linton’s next absence from home, when he might come, and get in as he was able: I wouldn’t be there, and my fellow-servants should be equally out of the way. Was it right or wrong? I fear it was wrong, though expedient. I thought I prevented another explosion by my compliance; and I thought, too, it might create a favourable crisis in Catherine’s mental illness: and then I remembered Mr. Edgar’s stern rebuke of my carrying tales; and I tried to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, by affirming, with frequent iteration, that that betrayal of trust, if it merited so harsh an appellation, should be the last. Notwithstanding, my journey homeward was sadder than my journey thither; and many misgivings I had, ere I could prevail on myself to put the missive into Mrs. Linton’s hand. But here is Kenneth; I’ll go down, and tell him how much better you are. My history is DREE, as we say, and will serve to while away another morning. Dree, and dreary! I reflected as the good woman descended to receive the doctor: and not exactly of the kind which I should have chosen to amuse me. But never mind! I’ll extract wholesome medicines from Mrs. Dean’s bitter herbs; and firstly, let me beware of the fascination that lurks in Catherine Heathcliff’s brilliant eyes. I should be in a curious taking if I surrendered my heart to that young person, and the daughter turned out a second edition of the mother. Chapter XV ANOTHER week over and I am so many days nearer health, and spring! I have now heard all my neighbour’s history, at different sittings, as the housekeeper could spare time from more important occupations. I’ll continue it in her own words, only a little condensed. She is, on the whole, a very fair narrator, and I don’t think I could improve her style. In the evening, she said, the evening of my visit to the Heights, I knew, as well as if I saw him, that Mr. Heathcliff was about the place; and I shunned going out, because I still carried his letter in my pocket, and didn’t want to be threatened or teased any more. I had made up my mind not to give it till my master went somewhere, as I could not guess how its receipt would affect Catherine. The consequence was, that it did not reach her before the lapse of three days. The fourth was Sunday, and I brought it into her room after the family were gone to church. There was a manservant left to keep the house with me, and we generally made a practice of locking the doors during the hours of service; but on that occasion the weather was so warm and pleasant that I set them wide open, and, to fulfil my engagement, as I knew who would be coming, I told my companion that the mistress wished very much for some oranges, and he must run over to the village and get a few, to be paid for on the morrow. He departed, and I went up-stairs. Mrs. Linton sat in a loose white dress, with a light shawl over her shoulders, in the recess of the open window, as usual. Her thick, long hair had been partly removed at the beginning of her illness, and now she wore it simply combed in its natural tresses over her temples and neck. Her appearance was altered, as I had told Heathcliff; but when she was calm, there seemed unearthly beauty in the change. The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness; they no longer gave the impression of looking at the objects around her: they appeared always to gaze beyond, and far beyond you would have said out of this world. Then, the paleness of her face its haggard aspect having vanished as she recovered flesh and the peculiar expression arising from her mental state, though painfully suggestive of their causes, added to the touching interest which she awakened; and invariably to me, I know, and to any person who saw her, I should think refuted more tangible proofs of convalescence, and stamped her as one doomed to decay. A book lay spread on the sill before her, and the scarcely perceptible wind fluttered its leaves at intervals. I believe Linton had laid it there: for she never endeavoured to divert herself with reading, or occupation of any kind, and he would spend many an hour in trying to entice her attention to some subject which had formerly been her amusement. She was conscious of his aim, and in her better moods endured his efforts placidly, only showing their uselessness by now and then suppressing a wearied sigh, and checking him at last with the saddest of smiles and kisses. At other times, she would turn petulantly away, and hide her face in her hands, or even push him off angrily; and then he took care to let her alone, for he was certain of doing no good. Gimmerton chapel bells were still ringing; and the full, mellow flow of the beck in the valley came soothingly on the ear. It was a sweet substitute for the yet absent murmur of the summer foliage, which drowned that music about the Grange when the trees were in leaf. At Wuthering Heights it always sounded on quiet days following a great thaw or a season of steady rain. And of Wuthering Heights Catherine was thinking as she listened: that is, if she thought or listened at all; but she had the vague, distant look I mentioned before, which expressed no recognition of material things either by ear or eye. ‘There’s a letter for you, Mrs. Linton,’ I said, gently inserting it in one hand that rested on her knee. ‘You must read it immediately, because it wants an answer. Shall I break the seal?’ ‘Yes,’ she answered, without altering the direction of her eyes. I opened it it was very short. ‘Now,’ I continued, ‘read it.’ She drew away her hand, and let it fall. I replaced it in her lap, and stood waiting till it should please her to glance down; but that movement was so long delayed that at last I resumed ‘Must I read it, ma’am? It is from Mr. Heathcliff.’ There was a start and a troubled gleam of recollection, and a struggle to arrange her ideas. She lifted the letter, and seemed to peruse it; and when she came to the signature she sighed: yet still I found she had not gathered its import, for, upon my desiring to hear her reply, she merely pointed to the name, and gazed at me with mournful and questioning eagerness. ‘Well, he wishes to see you,’ said I, guessing her need of an interpreter. ‘He’s in the garden by this time, and impatient to know what answer I shall bring.’ As I spoke, I observed a large dog lying on the sunny grass beneath raise its ears as if about to bark, and then smoothing them back, announce, by a wag of the tail, that some one approached whom it did not consider a stranger. Mrs. Linton bent forward, and listened breathlessly. The minute after a step traversed the hall; the open house was too tempting for Heathcliff to resist walking in: most likely he supposed that I was inclined to shirk my promise, and so resolved to trust to his own audacity. With straining eagerness Catherine gazed towards the entrance of her chamber. He did not hit the right room directly: she motioned me to admit him, but he found it out ere I could reach the door, and in a stride or two was at her side, and had her grasped in his arms. He neither spoke nor loosed his hold for some five minutes, during which period he bestowed more kisses than ever he gave in his life before, I daresay: but then my mistress had kissed him first, and I plainly saw that he could hardly bear, for downright agony, to look into her face! The same conviction had stricken him as me, from the instant he beheld her, that there was no prospect of ultimate recovery there she was fated, sure to die. ‘Oh, Cathy! Oh, my life! how can I bear it?’ was the first sentence he uttered, in a tone that did not seek to disguise his despair. And now he stared at her so earnestly that I thought the very intensity of his gaze would bring tears into his eyes; but they burned with anguish: they did not melt. ‘What now?’ said Catherine, leaning back, and returning his look with a suddenly clouded brow: her humour was a mere vane for constantly varying caprices. ‘You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff! And you both come to bewail the deed to me, as if you were the people to be pitied! I shall not pity you, not I. You have killed me and thriven on it, I think. How strong you are! How many years do you mean to live after I am gone?’ Heathcliff had knelt on one knee to embrace her; he attempted to rise, but she seized his hair, and kept him down. ‘I wish I could hold you,’ she continued, bitterly, ‘till we were both dead! I shouldn’t care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn’t you suffer? I do! Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, ‘That’s the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I’ve loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I are going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them!’ Will you say so, Heathcliff?’ ‘Don’t torture me till I’m as mad as yourself,’ cried he, wrenching his head free, and grinding his teeth. The two, to a cool spectator, made a strange and fearful picture. Well might Catherine deem that heaven would be a land of exile to her, unless with her mortal body she cast away her moral character also. Her present countenance had a wild vindictiveness in its white cheek, and a bloodless lip and scintillating eye; and she retained in her closed fingers a portion of the locks she had been grasping. As to her companion, while raising himself with one hand, he had taken her arm with the other; and so inadequate was his stock of gentleness to the requirements of her condition, that on his letting go I saw four distinct impressions left blue in the colourless skin. ‘Are you possessed with a devil,’ he pursued, savagely, ‘to talk in that manner to me when you are dying? Do you reflect that all those words will be branded in my memory, and eating deeper eternally after you have left me? You know you lie to say I have killed you: and, Catherine, you know that I could as soon forget you as my existence! Is it not sufficient for your infernal selfishness, that while you are at peace I shall writhe in the torments of hell?’ ‘I shall not be at peace,’ moaned Catherine, recalled to a sense of physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of her heart, which beat visibly and audibly under this excess of agitation. She said nothing further till the paroxysm was over; then she continued, more kindly - ‘I’m not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted: and should a word of mine distress you hereafter, think I feel the same distress underground, and for my own sake, forgive me! Come here and kneel down again! You never harmed me in your life. Nay, if you nurse anger, that will be worse to remember than my harsh words! Won’t you come here again? Do!’ Heathcliff went to the back of her chair, and leant over, but not so far as to let her see his face, which was livid with emotion. She bent round to look at him; he would not permit it: turning abruptly, he walked to the fireplace, where he stood, silent, with his back towards us. Mrs. Linton’s glance followed him suspiciously: every movement woke a new sentiment in her. After a pause and a prolonged gaze, she resumed; addressing me in accents of indignant disappointment:- ‘Oh, you see, Nelly, he would not relent a moment to keep me out of the grave. THAT is how I’m loved! Well, never mind. That is not MY Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he’s in my soul. And,’ added she musingly, ‘the thing that irks me most is this shattered prison, after all. I’m tired of being enclosed here. I’m wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there: not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart: but really with it, and in it. Nelly, you think you are better and more fortunate than I; in full health and strength: you are sorry for me very soon that will be altered. I shall be sorry for YOU. I shall be incomparably beyond and above you all. I WONDER he won’t be near me!’ She went on to herself. ‘I thought he wished it. Heathcliff, dear! you should not be sullen now. Do come to me, Heathcliff.’ In her eagerness she rose and supported herself on the arm of the chair. At that earnest appeal he turned to her, looking absolutely desperate. His eyes, wide and wet, at last flashed fiercely on her; his breast heaved convulsively. An instant they held asunder, and then how they met I hardly saw, but Catherine made a spring, and he caught her, and they were locked in an embrace from which I thought my mistress would never be released alive: in fact, to my eyes, she seemed directly insensible. He flung himself into the nearest seat, and on my approaching hurriedly to ascertain if she had fainted, he gnashed at me, and foamed like a mad dog, and gathered her to him with greedy jealousy. I did not feel as if I were in the company of a creature of my own species: it appeared that he would not understand, though I spoke to him; so I stood off, and held my tongue, in great perplexity. A movement of Catherine’s relieved me a little presently: she put up her hand to clasp his neck, and bring her cheek to his as he held her; while he, in return, covering her with frantic caresses, said wildly - ‘You teach me now how cruel you’ve been cruel and false. WHY did you despise me? WHY did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they’ll blight you they’ll damn you. You loved me then what RIGHT had you to leave me? What right answer me for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, YOU, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart YOU have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you oh, God! would YOU like to live with your soul in the grave?’ ‘Let me alone. Let me alone,’ sobbed Catherine. ‘If I’ve done wrong, I’m dying for it. It is enough! You left me too: but I won’t upbraid you! I forgive you. Forgive me!’ ‘It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,’ he answered. ‘Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love MY murderer but YOURS! How can I?’ They were silent-their faces hid against each other, and washed by each other’s tears. At least, I suppose the weeping was on both sides; as it seemed Heathcliff could weep on a great occasion like this. I grew very uncomfortable, meanwhile; for the afternoon wore fast away, the man whom I had sent off returned from his errand, and I could distinguish, by the shine of the western sun up the valley, a concourse thickening outside Gimmerton chapel porch. ‘Service is over,’ I announced. ‘My master will be here in half an hour.’ Heathcliff groaned a curse, and strained Catherine closer: she never moved. Ere long I perceived a group of the servants passing up the road towards the kitchen wing. Mr. Linton was not far behind; he opened the gate himself and sauntered slowly up, probably enjoying the lovely afternoon that breathed as soft as summer. ‘Now he is here,’ I exclaimed. ‘For heaven’s sake, hurry down! You’ll not meet any one on the front stairs. Do be quick; and stay among the trees till he is fairly in.’ ‘I must go, Cathy,’ said Heathcliff, seeking to extricate himself from his companion’s arms. ‘But if I live, I’ll see you again before you are asleep. I won’t stray five yards from your window.’ ‘You must not go!’ she answered, holding him as firmly as her strength allowed. ‘You SHALL not, I tell you.’ ‘For one hour,’ he pleaded earnestly. ‘Not for one minute,’ she replied. ‘I MUST Linton will be up immediately,’ persisted the alarmed intruder. He would have risen, and unfixed her fingers by the act she clung fast, gasping: there was mad resolution in her face. ‘No!’ she shrieked. ‘Oh, don’t, don’t go. It is the last time! Edgar will not hurt us. Heathcliff, I shall die! I shall die!’ ‘Damn the fool! There he is,’ cried Heathcliff, sinking back into his seat. ‘Hush, my darling! Hush, hush, Catherine! I’ll stay. If he shot me so, I’d expire with a blessing on my lips.’ And there they were fast again. I heard my master mounting the stairs the cold sweat ran from my forehead: I was horrified. ‘Are you going to listen to her ravings?’ I said, passionately. ‘She does not know what she says. Will you ruin her, because she has not wit to help herself? Get up! You could be free instantly. That is the most diabolical deed that ever you did. We are all done for master, mistress, and servant.’ I wrung my hands, and cried out; and Mr. Linton hastened his step at the noise. In the midst of my agitation, I was sincerely glad to observe that Catherine’s arms had fallen relaxed, and her head hung down. ‘She’s fainted, or dead,’ I thought: ‘so much the better. Far better that she should be dead, than lingering a burden and a misery-maker to all about her.’ Edgar sprang to his unbidden guest, blanched with astonishment and rage. What he meant to do I cannot tell; however, the other stopped all demonstrations, at once, by placing the lifelesslooking form in his arms. ‘Look there!’ he said. ‘Unless you be a fiend, help her first then you shall speak to me!’ He walked into the parlour, and sat down. Mr. Linton summoned me, and with great difficulty, and after resorting to many means, we managed to restore her to sensation; but she was all bewildered; she sighed, and moaned, and knew nobody. Edgar, in his anxiety for her, forgot her hated friend. I did not. I went, at the earliest opportunity, and besought him to depart; affirming that Catherine was better, and he should hear from me in the morning how she passed the night. ‘I shall not refuse to go out of doors,’ he answered; ‘but I shall stay in the garden: and, Nelly, mind you keep your word to-morrow. I shall be under those larch-trees. Mind! or I pay another visit, whether Linton be in or not.’ He sent a rapid glance through the half-open door of the chamber, and, ascertaining that what I stated was apparently true, delivered the house of his luckless presence. Chapter XVI ABOUT twelve o’clock that night was born the Catherine you saw at Wuthering Heights: a puny, seven-months’ child; and two hours after the mother died, having never recovered sufficient consciousness to miss Heathcliff, or know Edgar. The latter’s distraction at his bereavement is a subject too painful to be dwelt on; its after-effects showed how deep the sorrow sunk. A great addition, in my eyes, was his being left without an heir. I bemoaned that, as I gazed on the feeble orphan; and I mentally abused old Linton for (what was only natural partiality) the securing his estate to his own daughter, instead of his son’s. An unwelcomed infant it was, poor thing! It might have wailed out of life, and nobody cared a morsel, during those first hours of existence. We redeemed the neglect afterwards; but its beginning was as friendless as its end is likely to be. Next morning bright and cheerful out of doors stole softened in through the blinds of the silent room, and suffused the couch and its occupant with a mellow, tender glow. Edgar Linton had his head laid on the pillow, and his eyes shut. His young and fair features were almost as deathlike as those of the form beside him, and almost as fixed: but HIS was the hush of exhausted anguish, and HERS of perfect peace. Her brow smooth, her lids closed, her lips wearing the expression of a smile; no angel in heaven could be more beautiful than she appeared. And I partook of the infinite calm in which she lay: my mind was never in a holier frame than while I gazed on that untroubled image of Divine rest. I instinctively echoed the words she had uttered a few hours before: ‘Incomparably beyond and above us all! Whether still on earth or now in heaven, her spirit is at home with God!’ I don’t know if it be a peculiarity in me, but I am seldom otherwise than happy while watching in the chamber of death, should no frenzied or despairing mourner share the duty with me. I see a repose that neither earth nor hell can break, and I feel an assurance of the endless and shadowless hereafter the Eternity they have entered where life is boundless in its duration, and love in its sympathy, and joy in its fulness. I noticed on that occasion how much selfishness there is even in a love like Mr. Linton’s, when he so regretted Catherine’s blessed release! To be sure, one might have doubted, after the wayward and impatient existence she had led, whether she merited a haven of peace at last. One might doubt in seasons of cold reflection; but not then, in the presence of her corpse. It asserted its own tranquillity, which seemed a pledge of equal quiet to its former inhabitant. Do you believe such people are happy in the other world, sir? I’d give a great deal to know. I declined answering Mrs. Dean’s question, which struck me as something heterodox. She proceeded: Retracing the course of Catherine Linton, I fear we have no right to think she is; but we’ll leave her with her Maker. The master looked asleep, and I ventured soon after sunrise to quit the room and steal out to the pure refreshing air. The servants thought me gone to shake off the drowsiness of my protracted watch; in reality, my chief motive was seeing Mr. Heathcliff. If he had remained among the larches all night, he would have heard nothing of the stir at the Grange; unless, perhaps, he might catch the gallop of the messenger going to Gimmerton. If he had come nearer, he would probably be aware, from the lights flitting to and fro, and the opening and shutting of the outer doors, that all was not right within. I wished, yet feared, to find him. I felt the terrible news must be told, and I longed to get it over; but how to do it I did not know. He was there at least, a few yards further in the park; leant against an old ash-tree, his hat off, and his hair soaked with the dew that had gathered on the budded branches, and fell pattering round him. He had been standing a long time in that position, for I saw a pair of ousels passing and repassing scarcely three feet from him, busy in building their nest, and regarding his proximity no more than that of a piece of timber. They flew off at my approach, and he raised his eyes and spoke:‘She’s dead!’ he said; ‘I’ve not waited for you to learn that. Put your handkerchief away don’t snivel before me. Damn you all! she wants none of your tears!’ I was weeping as much for him as her: we do sometimes pity creatures that have none of the feeling either for themselves or others. When I first looked into his face, I perceived that he had got intelligence of the catastrophe; and a foolish notion struck me that his heart was quelled and he prayed, because his lips moved and his gaze was bent on the ground. ‘Yes, she’s dead!’ I answered, checking my sobs and drying my cheeks. ‘Gone to heaven, I hope; where we may, every one, join her, if we take due warning and leave our evil ways to follow good!’ ‘Did SHE take due warning, then?’ asked Heathcliff, attempting a sneer. ‘Did she die like a saint? Come, give me a true history of the event. How did ?’ He endeavoured to pronounce the name, but could not manage it; and compressing his mouth he held a silent combat with his inward agony, defying, meanwhile, my sympathy with an unflinching, ferocious stare. ‘How did she die?’ he resumed, at last fain, notwithstanding his hardihood, to have a support behind him; for, after the struggle, he trembled, in spite of himself, to his very finger-ends. ‘Poor wretch!’ I thought; ‘you have a heart and nerves the same as your brother men! Why should you be anxious to conceal them? Your pride cannot blind God! You tempt him to wring them, till he forces a cry of humiliation.’ ‘Quietly as a lamb!’ I answered, aloud. ‘She drew a sigh, and stretched herself, like a child reviving, and sinking again to sleep; and five minutes after I felt one little pulse at her heart, and nothing more!’ ‘And did she ever mention me?’ he asked, hesitating, as if he dreaded the answer to his question would introduce details that he could not bear to hear. ‘Her senses never returned: she recognised nobody from the time you left her,’ I said. ‘She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle dream may she wake as kindly in the other world!’ ‘May she wake in torment!’ he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. ‘Why, she’s a liar to the end! Where is she? Not THERE not in heaven not perished where? you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer I repeat it till my tongue stiffens Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you haunt me, then! The murdered DO haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts HAVE wandered on earth. Be with me always take any form drive me mad! only DO not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I CANNOT live without my life! I CANNOT live without my soul!’ He dashed his head against the knotted trunk; and, lifting up his eyes, howled, not like a man, but like a savage beast being goaded to death with knives and spears. I observed several splashes of blood about the bark of the tree, and his hand and forehead were both stained; probably the scene I witnessed was a repetition of others acted during the night. It hardly moved my compassion it appalled me: still, I felt reluctant to quit him so. But the moment he recollected himself enough to notice me watching, he thundered a command for me to go, and I obeyed. He was beyond my skill to quiet or console! Mrs. Linton’s funeral was appointed to take place on the Friday following her decease; and till then her coffin remained uncovered, and strewn with flowers and scented leaves, in the great drawingroom. Linton spent his days and nights there, a sleepless guardian; and a circumstance concealed from all but me Heathcliff spent his nights, at least, outside, equally a stranger to repose. I held no communication with him: still, I was conscious of his design to enter, if he could; and on the Tuesday, a little after dark, when my master, from sheer fatigue, had been compelled to retire a couple of hours, I went and opened one of the windows; moved by his perseverance to give him a chance of bestowing on the faded image of his idol one final adieu. He did not omit to avail himself of the opportunity, cautiously and briefly; too cautiously to betray his presence by the slightest noise. Indeed, I shouldn’t have discovered that he had been there, except for the disarrangement of the drapery about the corpse’s face, and for observing on the floor a curl of light hair, fastened with a silver thread; which, on examination, I ascertained to have been taken from a locket hung round Catherine’s neck. Heathcliff had opened the trinket and cast out its contents, replacing them by a black lock of his own. I twisted the two, and enclosed them together. Mr. Earnshaw was, of course, invited to attend the remains of his sister to the grave; he sent no excuse, but he never came; so that, besides her husband, the mourners were wholly composed of tenants and servants. Isabella was not asked. The place of Catherine’s interment, to the surprise of the villagers, was neither in the chapel under the carved monument of the Lintons, nor yet by the tombs of her own relations, outside. It was dug on a green slope in a corner of the kirk-yard, where the wall is so low that heath and bilberry-plants have climbed over it from the moor; and peat-mould almost buries it. Her husband lies in the same spot now; and they have each a simple headstone above, and a plain grey block at their feet, to mark the graves. Chapter XVII THAT Friday made the last of our fine days for a month. In the evening the weather broke: the wind shifted from south to northeast, and brought rain first, and then sleet and snow. On the morrow one could hardly imagine that there had been three weeks of summer: the primroses and crocuses were hidden under wintry drifts; the larks were silent, the young leaves of the early trees smitten and blackened. And dreary, and chill, and dismal, that morrow did creep over! My master kept his room; I took possession of the lonely parlour, converting it into a nursery: and there I was, sitting with the moaning doll of a child laid on my knee; rocking it to and fro, and watching, meanwhile, the still driving flakes build up the uncurtained window, when the door opened, and some person entered, out of breath and laughing! My anger was greater than my astonishment for a minute. I supposed it one of the maids, and I cried ‘Have done! How dare you show your giddiness here; What would Mr. Linton say if he heard you?’ ‘Excuse me!’ answered a familiar voice; ‘but I know Edgar is in bed, and I cannot stop myself.’ With that the speaker came forward to the fire, panting and holding her hand to her side. ‘I have run the whole way from Wuthering Heights!’ she continued, after a pause; ‘except where I’ve flown. I couldn’t count the number of falls I’ve had. Oh, I’m aching all over! Don’t be alarmed! There shall be an explanation as soon as I can give it; only just have the goodness to step out and order the carriage to take me on to Gimmerton, and tell a servant to seek up a few clothes in my wardrobe.’ The intruder was Mrs. Heathcliff. She certainly seemed in no laughing predicament: her hair streamed on her shoulders, dripping with snow and water; she was dressed in the girlish dress she commonly wore, befitting her age more than her position: a low frock with short sleeves, and nothing on either head or neck. The frock was of light silk, and clung to her with wet, and her feet were protected merely by thin slippers; add to this a deep cut under one ear, which only the cold prevented from bleeding profusely, a white face scratched and bruised, and a frame hardly able to support itself through fatigue; and you may fancy my first fright was not much allayed when I had had leisure to examine her. ‘My dear young lady,’ I exclaimed, ‘I’ll stir nowhere, and hear nothing, till you have removed every article of your clothes, and put on dry things; and certainly you shall not go to Gimmerton tonight, so it is needless to order the carriage.’ ‘Certainly I shall,’ she said; ‘walking or riding: yet I’ve no objection to dress myself decently. And ah, see how it flows down my neck now! The fire does make it smart.’ She insisted on my fulfilling her directions, before she would let me touch her; and not till after the coachman had been instructed to get ready, and a maid set to pack up some necessary attire, did I obtain her consent for binding the wound and helping to change her garments. ‘Now, Ellen,’ she said, when my task was finished and she was seated in an easy-chair on the hearth, with a cup of tea before her, ‘you sit down opposite me, and put poor Catherine’s baby away: I don’t like to see it! You mustn’t think I care little for Catherine, because I behaved so foolishly on entering: I’ve cried, too, bitterly yes, more than any one else has reason to cry. We parted unreconciled, you remember, and I sha’n’t forgive myself. But, for all that, I was not going to sympathise with him the brute beast! Oh, give me the poker! This is the last thing of his I have about me:’ she slipped the gold ring from her third finger, and threw it on the floor. ‘I’ll smash it!’ she continued, striking it with childish spite, ‘and then I’ll burn it!’ and she took and dropped the misused article among the coals. ‘There! he shall buy another, if he gets me back again. He’d be capable of coming to seek me, to tease Edgar. I dare not stay, lest that notion should possess his wicked head! And besides, Edgar has not been kind, has he? And I won’t come suing for his assistance; nor will I bring him into more trouble. Necessity compelled me to seek shelter here; though, if I had not learned he was out of the way, I’d have halted at the kitchen, washed my face, warmed myself, got you to bring what I wanted, and departed again to anywhere out of the reach of my accursed of that incarnate goblin! Ah, he was in such a fury! If he had caught me! It’s a pity Earnshaw is not his match in strength: I wouldn’t have run till I’d seen him all but demolished, had Hindley been able to do it!’ ‘Well, don’t talk so fast, Miss!’ I interrupted; ‘you’ll disorder the handkerchief I have tied round your face, and make the cut bleed again. Drink your tea, and take breath, and give over laughing: laughter is sadly out of place under this roof, and in your condition!’ ‘An undeniable truth,’ she replied. ‘Listen to that child! It maintains a constant wail send it out of my hearing for an hour; I sha’n’t stay any longer.’ I rang the bell, and committed it to a servant’s care; and then I inquired what had urged her to escape from Wuthering Heights in such an unlikely plight, and where she meant to go, as she refused remaining with us. ‘I ought, and I wished to remain,’ answered she, ‘to cheer Edgar and take care of the baby, for two things, and because the Grange is my right home. But I tell you he wouldn’t let me! Do you think he could bear to see me grow fat and merry could bear to think that we were tranquil, and not resolve on poisoning our comfort? Now, I have the satisfaction of being sure that he detests me, to the point of its annoying him seriously to have me within ear-shot or eyesight: I notice, when I enter his presence, the muscles of his countenance are involuntarily distorted into an expression of hatred; partly arising from his knowledge of the good causes I have to feel that sentiment for him, and partly from original aversion. It is strong enough to make me feel pretty certain that he would not chase me over England, supposing I contrived a clear escape; and therefore I must get quite away. I’ve recovered from my first desire to be killed by him: I’d rather he’d kill himself! He has extinguished my love effectually, and so I’m at my ease. I can recollect yet how I loved him; and can dimly imagine that I could still be loving him, if no, no! Even if he had doted on me, the devilish nature would have revealed its existence somehow. Catherine had an awfully perverted taste to esteem him so dearly, knowing him so well. Monster! would that he could be blotted out of creation, and out of my memory!’ ‘Hush, hush! He’s a human being,’ I said. ‘Be more charitable: there are worse men than he is yet!’ ‘He’s not a human being,’ she retorted; ‘and he has no claim on my charity. I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death, and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen: and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him: and I would not, though he groaned from this to his dying day, and wept tears of blood for Catherine! No, indeed, indeed, I wouldn’t!’ And here Isabella began to cry; but, immediately dashing the water from her lashes, she recommenced. ‘You asked, what has driven me to flight at last? I was compelled to attempt it, because I had succeeded in rousing his rage a pitch above his malignity. Pulling out the nerves with red hot pincers requires more coolness than knocking on the head. He was worked up to forget the fiendish prudence he boasted of, and proceeded to murderous violence. I experienced pleasure in being able to exasperate him: the sense of pleasure woke my instinct of selfpreservation, so I fairly broke free; and if ever I come into his hands again he is welcome to a signal revenge. ‘Yesterday, you know, Mr. Earnshaw should have been at the funeral. He kept himself sober for the purpose tolerably sober: not going to bed mad at six o’clock and getting up drunk at twelve. Consequently, he rose, in suicidal low spirits, as fit for the church as for a dance; and instead, he sat down by the fire and swallowed gin or brandy by tumblerfuls. ‘Heathcliff I shudder to name him! has been a stranger in the house from last Sunday till to-day. Whether the angels have fed him, or his kin beneath, I cannot tell; but he has not eaten a meal with us for nearly a week. He has just come home at dawn, and gone up-stairs to his chamber; looking himself in as if anybody dreamt of coveting his company! There he has continued, praying like a Methodist: only the deity he implored is senseless dust and ashes; and God, when addressed, was curiously confounded with his own black father! After concluding these precious orisons and they lasted generally till he grew hoarse and his voice was strangled in his throat he would be off again; always straight down to the Grange! I wonder Edgar did not send for a constable, and give him into custody! For me, grieved as I was about Catherine, it was impossible to avoid regarding this season of deliverance from degrading oppression as a holiday. ‘I recovered spirits sufficient to bear Joseph’s eternal lectures without weeping, and to move up and down the house less with the foot of a frightened thief than formerly. You wouldn’t think that I should cry at anything Joseph could say; but he and Hareton are detestable companions. I’d rather sit with Hindley, and hear his awful talk, than with ‘t’ little maister’ and his staunch supporter, that odious old man! When Heathcliff is in, I’m often obliged to seek the kitchen and their society, or starve among the damp uninhabited chambers; when he is not, as was the case this week, I establish a table and chair at one corner of the house fire, and never mind how Mr. Earnshaw may occupy himself; and he does not interfere with my arrangements. He is quieter now than he used to be, if no one provokes him: more sullen and depressed, and less furious. Joseph affirms he’s sure he’s an altered man: that the Lord has touched his heart, and he is saved ‘so as by fire.’ I’m puzzled to detect signs of the favourable change: but it is not my business. ‘Yester-evening I sat in my nook reading some old books till late on towards twelve. It seemed so dismal to go up-stairs, with the wild snow blowing outside, and my thoughts continually reverting to the kirk-yard and the new-made grave! I dared hardly lift my eyes from the page before me, that melancholy scene so instantly usurped its place. Hindley sat opposite, his head leant on his hand; perhaps meditating on the same subject. He had ceased drinking at a point below irrationality, and had neither stirred nor spoken during two or three hours. There was no sound through the house but the moaning wind, which shook the windows every now and then, the faint crackling of the coals, and the click of my snuffers as I removed at intervals the long wick of the candle. Hareton and Joseph were probably fast asleep in bed. It was very, very sad: and while I read I sighed, for it seemed as if all joy had vanished from the world, never to be restored. ‘The doleful silence was broken at length by the sound of the kitchen latch: Heathcliff had returned from his watch earlier than usual; owing, I suppose, to the sudden storm. That entrance was fastened, and we heard him coming round to get in by the other. I rose with an irrepressible expression of what I felt on my lips, which induced my companion, who had been staring towards the door, to turn and look at me. ‘’I’ll keep him out five minutes,’ he exclaimed. ‘You won’t object?’ ‘’No, you may keep him out the whole night for me,’ I answered. ‘Do! put the key in the look, and draw the bolts.’ ‘Earnshaw accomplished this ere his guest reached the front; he then came and brought his chair to the other side of my table, leaning over it, and searching in my eyes for a sympathy with the burning hate that gleamed from his: as he both looked and felt like an assassin, he couldn’t exactly find that; but he discovered enough to encourage him to speak. ‘’You, and I,’ he said, ‘have each a great debt to settle with the man out yonder! If we were neither of us cowards, we might combine to discharge it. Are you as soft as your brother? Are you willing to endure to the last, and not once attempt a repayment?’ ‘’I’m weary of enduring now,’ I replied; ‘and I’d be glad of a retaliation that wouldn’t recoil on myself; but treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.’ ‘’Treachery and violence are a just return for treachery and violence!’ cried Hindley. ‘Mrs. Heathcliff, I’ll ask you to do nothing; but sit still and be dumb. Tell me now, can you? I’m sure you would have as much pleasure as I in witnessing the conclusion of the fiend’s existence; he’ll be YOUR death unless you overreach him; and he’ll be MY ruin. Damn the hellish villain! He knocks at the door as if he were master here already! Promise to hold your tongue, and before that clock strikes it wants three minutes of one you’re a free woman!’ ‘He took the implements which I described to you in my letter from his breast, and would have turned down the candle. I snatched it away, however, and seized his arm. ‘’I’ll not hold my tongue!’ I said; ‘you mustn’t touch him. Let the door remain shut, and be quiet!’ ‘’No! I’ve formed my resolution, and by God I’ll execute it!’ cried the desperate being. ‘I’ll do you a kindness in spite of yourself, and Hareton justice! And you needn’t trouble your head to screen me; Catherine is gone. Nobody alive would regret me, or be ashamed, though I cut my throat this minute and it’s time to make an end!’ ‘I might as well have struggled with a bear, or reasoned with a lunatic. The only resource left me was to run to a lattice and warn his intended victim of the fate which awaited him. ‘’You’d better seek shelter somewhere else to-night!’ I exclaimed, in rather a triumphant tone. ‘Mr. Earnshaw has a mind to shoot you, if you persist in endeavouring to enter.’ ‘’You’d better open the door, you ‘ he answered, addressing me by some elegant term that I don’t care to repeat. ‘’I shall not meddle in the matter,’ I retorted again. ‘Come in and get shot, if you please. I’ve done my duty.’ ‘With that I shut the window and returned to my place by the fire; having too small a stock of hypocrisy at my command to pretend any anxiety for the danger that menaced him. Earnshaw swore passionately at me: affirming that I loved the villain yet; and calling me all sorts of names for the base spirit I evinced. And I, in my secret heart (and conscience never reproached me), thought what a blessing it would be for HIM should Heathcliff put him out of misery; and what a blessing for ME should he send Heathcliff to his right abode! As I sat nursing these reflections, the casement behind me was banged on to the floor by a blow from the latter individual, and his black countenance looked blightingly through. The stanchions stood too close to suffer his shoulders to follow, and I smiled, exulting in my fancied security. His hair and clothes were whitened with snow, and his sharp cannibal teeth, revealed by cold and wrath, gleamed through the dark. ‘’Isabella, let me in, or I’ll make you repent!’ he ‘girned,’ as Joseph calls it. ‘’I cannot commit murder,’ I replied. ‘Mr. Hindley stands sentinel with a knife and loaded pistol.’ ‘’Let me in by the kitchen door,’ he said. ‘’Hindley will be there before me,’ I answered: ‘and that’s a poor love of yours that cannot bear a shower of snow! We were left at peace in our beds as long as the summer moon shone, but the moment a blast of winter returns, you must run for shelter! Heathcliff, if I were you, I’d go stretch myself over her grave and die like a faithful dog. The world is surely not worth living in now, is it? You had distinctly impressed on me the idea that Catherine was the whole joy of your life: I can’t imagine how you think of surviving her loss.’ ‘’He’s there, is he?’ exclaimed my companion, rushing to the gap. ‘If I can get my arm out I can hit him!’ ‘I’m afraid, Ellen, you’ll set me down as really wicked; but you don’t know all, so don’t judge. I wouldn’t have aided or abetted an attempt on even HIS life for anything. Wish that he were dead, I must; and therefore I was fearfully disappointed, and unnerved by terror for the consequences of my taunting speech, when he flung himself on Earnshaw’s weapon and wrenched it from his grasp. ‘The charge exploded, and the knife, in springing back, closed into its owner’s wrist. Heathcliff pulled it away by main force, slitting up the flesh as it passed on, and thrust it dripping into his pocket. He then took a stone, struck down the division between two windows, and sprang in. His adversary had fallen senseless with excessive pain and the flow of blood, that gushed from an artery or a large vein. The ruffian kicked and trampled on him, and dashed his head repeatedly against the flags, holding me with one hand, meantime, to prevent me summoning Joseph. He exerted preterhuman self-denial in abstaining from finishing him completely; but getting out of breath, he finally desisted, and dragged the apparently inanimate body on to the settle. There he tore off the sleeve of Earnshaw’s coat, and bound up the wound with brutal roughness; spitting and cursing during the operation as energetically as he had kicked before. Being at liberty, I lost no time in seeking the old servant; who, having gathered by degrees the purport of my hasty tale, hurried below, gasping, as he descended the steps two at once. ‘’What is ther to do, now? what is ther to do, now?’ ‘’There’s this to do,’ thundered Heathcliff, ‘that your master’s mad; and should he last another month, I’ll have him to an asylum. And how the devil did you come to fasten me out, you toothless hound? Don’t stand muttering and mumbling there. Come, I’m not going to nurse him. Wash that stuff away; and mind the sparks of your candle it is more than half brandy!’ ‘’And so ye’ve been murthering on him?’ exclaimed Joseph, lifting his hands and eyes in horror. ‘If iver I seed a seeght loike this! May the Lord ‘ ‘Heathcliff gave him a push on to his knees in the middle of the blood, and flung a towel to him; but instead of proceeding to dry it up, he joined his hands and began a prayer, which excited my laughter from its odd phraseology. I was in the condition of mind to be shocked at nothing: in fact, I was as reckless as some malefactors show themselves at the foot of the gallows. ‘’Oh, I forgot you,’ said the tyrant. ‘You shall do that. Down with you. And you conspire with him against me, do you, viper? There, that is work fit for you!’ ‘He shook me till my teeth rattled, and pitched me beside Joseph, who steadily concluded his supplications, and then rose, vowing he would set off for the Grange directly. Mr. Linton was a magistrate, and though he had fifty wives dead, he should inquire into this. He was so obstinate in his resolution, that Heathcliff deemed it expedient to compel from my lips a recapitulation of what had taken place; standing over me, heaving with malevolence, as I reluctantly delivered the account in answer to his questions. It required a great deal of labour to satisfy the old man that Heathcliff was not the aggressor; especially with my hardly-wrung replies. However, Mr. Earnshaw soon convinced him that he was alive still; Joseph hastened to administer a dose of spirits, and by their succour his master presently regained motion and consciousness. Heathcliff, aware that his opponent was ignorant of the treatment received while insensible, called him deliriously intoxicated; and said he should not notice his atrocious conduct further, but advised him to get to bed. To my joy, he left us, after giving this judicious counsel, and Hindley stretched himself on the hearthstone. I departed to my own room, marvelling that I had escaped so easily. ‘This morning, when I came down, about half an hour before noon, Mr. Earnshaw was sitting by the fire, deadly sick; his evil genius, almost as gaunt and ghastly, leant against the chimney. Neither appeared inclined to dine, and, having waited till all was cold on the table, I commenced alone. Nothing hindered me from eating heartily, and I experienced a certain sense of satisfaction and superiority, as, at intervals, I cast a look towards my silent companions, and felt the comfort of a quiet conscience within me. After I had done, I ventured on the unusual liberty of drawing near the fire, going round Earnshaw’s seat, and kneeling in the corner beside him. ‘Heathcliff did not glance my way, and I gazed up, and contemplated his features almost as confidently as if they had been turned to stone. His forehead, that I once thought so manly, and that I now think so diabolical, was shaded with a heavy cloud; his basilisk eyes were nearly quenched by sleeplessness, and weeping, perhaps, for the lashes were wet then: his lips devoid of their ferocious sneer, and sealed in an expression of unspeakable sadness. Had it been another, I would have covered my face in the presence of such grief. In HIS case, I was gratified; and, ignoble as it seems to insult a fallen enemy, I couldn’t miss this chance of sticking in a dart: his weakness was the only time when I could taste the delight of paying wrong for wrong.’ ‘Fie, fie, Miss!’ I interrupted. ‘One might suppose you had never opened a Bible in your life. If God afflict your enemies, surely that ought to suffice you. It is both mean and presumptuous to add your torture to his!’ ‘In general I’ll allow that it would be, Ellen,’ she continued; ‘but what misery laid on Heathcliff could content me, unless I have a hand in it? I’d rather he suffered less, if I might cause his sufferings and he might KNOW that I was the cause. Oh, I owe him so much. On only one condition can I hope to forgive him. It is, if I may take an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth; for every wrench of agony return a wrench: reduce him to my level. As he was the first to injure, make him the first to implore pardon; and then why then, Ellen, I might show you some generosity. But it is utterly impossible I can ever be revenged, and therefore I cannot forgive him. Hindley wanted some water, and I handed him a glass, and asked him how he was. ‘’Not as ill as I wish,’ he replied. ‘But leaving out my arm, every inch of me is as sore as if I had been fighting with a legion of imps!’ ‘’Yes, no wonder,’ was my next remark. ‘Catherine used to boast that she stood between you and bodily harm: she meant that certain persons would not hurt you for fear of offending her. It’s well people don’t REALLY rise from their grave, or, last night, she might have witnessed a repulsive scene! Are not you bruised, and cut over your chest and shoulders?’ ‘’I can’t say,’ he answered, ‘but what do you mean? Did he dare to strike me when I was down?’ ‘’He trampled on and kicked you, and dashed you on the ground,’ I whispered. ‘And his mouth watered to tear you with his teeth; because he’s only half man: not so much, and the rest fiend.’ ‘Mr. Earnshaw looked up, like me, to the countenance of our mutual foe; who, absorbed in his anguish, seemed insensible to anything around him: the longer he stood, the plainer his reflections revealed their blackness through his features. ‘’Oh, if God would but give me strength to strangle him in my last agony, I’d go to hell with joy,’ groaned the impatient man, writhing to rise, and sinking back in despair, convinced of his inadequacy for the struggle. ‘’Nay, it’s enough that he has murdered one of you,’ I observed aloud. ‘At the Grange, every one knows your sister would have been living now had it not been for Mr. Heathcliff. After all, it is preferable to be hated than loved by him. When I recollect how happy we were how happy Catherine was before he came I’m fit to curse the day.’ ‘Most likely, Heathcliff noticed more the truth of what was said, than the spirit of the person who said it. His attention was roused, I saw, for his eyes rained down tears among the ashes, and he drew his breath in suffocating sighs. I stared full at him, and laughed scornfully. The clouded windows of hell flashed a moment towards me; the fiend which usually looked out, however, was so dimmed and drowned that I did not fear to hazard another sound of derision. ‘’Get up, and begone out of my sight,’ said the mourner. ‘I guessed he uttered those words, at least, though his voice was hardly intelligible. ‘’I beg your pardon,’ I replied. ‘But I loved Catherine too; and her brother requires attendance, which, for her sake, I shall supply. Now, that she’s dead, I see her in Hindley: Hindley has exactly her eyes, if you had not tried to gouge them out, and made them black and red; and her ‘ ‘’Get up, wretched idiot, before I stamp you to death!’ he cried, making a movement that caused me to make one also. ‘’But then,’ I continued, holding myself ready to flee, ‘if poor Catherine had trusted you, and assumed the ridiculous, contemptible, degrading title of Mrs. Heathcliff, she would soon have presented a similar picture! SHE wouldn’t have borne your abominable behaviour quietly: her detestation and disgust must have found voice.’ ‘The back of the settle and Earnshaw’s person interposed between me and him; so instead of endeavouring to reach me, he snatched a dinner-knife from the table and flung it at my head. It struck beneath my ear, and stopped the sentence I was uttering; but, pulling it out, I sprang to the door and delivered another; which I hope went a little deeper than his missile. The last glimpse I caught of him was a furious rush on his part, checked by the embrace of his host; and both fell locked together on the hearth. In my flight through the kitchen I bid Joseph speed to his master; I knocked over Hareton, who was hanging a litter of puppies from a chair-back in the doorway; and, blessed as a soul escaped from purgatory, I bounded, leaped, and flew down the steep road; then, quitting its windings, shot direct across the moor, rolling over banks, and wading through marshes: precipitating myself, in fact, towards the beacon-light of the Grange. And far rather would I be condemned to a perpetual dwelling in the infernal regions than, even for one night, abide beneath the roof of Wuthering Heights again.’ Isabella ceased speaking, and took a drink of tea; then she rose, and bidding me put on her bonnet, and a great shawl I had brought, and turning a deaf ear to my entreaties for her to remain another hour, she stepped on to a chair, kissed Edgar’s and Catherine’s portraits, bestowed a similar salute on me, and descended to the carriage, accompanied by Fanny, who yelped wild with joy at recovering her mistress. She was driven away, never to revisit this neighbourhood: but a regular correspondence was established between her and my master when things were more settled. I believe her new abode was in the south, near London; there she had a son born a few months subsequent to her escape. He was christened Linton, and, from the first, she reported him to be an ailing, peevish creature. Mr. Heathcliff, meeting me one day in the village, inquired where she lived. I refused to tell. He remarked that it was not of any moment, only she must beware of coming to her brother: she should not be with him, if he had to keep her himself. Though I would give no information, he discovered, through some of the other servants, both her place of residence and the existence of the child. Still, he didn’t molest her: for which forbearance she might thank his aversion, I suppose. He often asked about the infant, when he saw me; and on hearing its name, smiled grimly, and observed: ‘They wish me to hate it too, do they?’ ‘I don’t think they wish you to know anything about it,’ I answered. ‘But I’ll have it,’ he said, ‘when I want it. They may reckon on that!’ Fortunately its mother died before the time arrived; some thirteen years after the decease of Catherine, when Linton was twelve, or a little more. On the day succeeding Isabella’s unexpected visit I had no opportunity of speaking to my master: he shunned conversation, and was fit for discussing nothing. When I could get him to listen, I saw it pleased him that his sister had left her husband; whom he abhorred with an intensity which the mildness of his nature would scarcely seem to allow. So deep and sensitive was his aversion, that he refrained from going anywhere where he was likely to see or hear of Heathcliff. Grief, and that together, transformed him into a complete hermit: he threw up his office of magistrate, ceased even to attend church, avoided the village on all occasions, and spent a life of entire seclusion within the limits of his park and grounds; only varied by solitary rambles on the moors, and visits to the grave of his wife, mostly at evening, or early morning before other wanderers were abroad. But he was too good to be thoroughly unhappy long. HE didn’t pray for Catherine’s soul to haunt him. Time brought resignation, and a melancholy sweeter than common joy. He recalled her memory with ardent, tender love, and hopeful aspiring to the better world; where he doubted not she was gone. And he had earthly consolation and affections also. For a few days, I said, he seemed regardless of the puny successor to the departed: that coldness melted as fast as snow in April, and ere the tiny thing could stammer a word or totter a step it wielded a despot’s sceptre in his heart. It was named Catherine; but he never called it the name in full, as he had never called the first Catherine short: probably because Heathcliff had a habit of doing so. The little one was always Cathy: it formed to him a distinction from the mother, and yet a connection with her; and his attachment sprang from its relation to her, far more than from its being his own. I used to draw a comparison between him and Hindley Earnshaw, and perplex myself to explain satisfactorily why their conduct was so opposite in similar circumstances. They had both been fond husbands, and were both attached to their children; and I could not see how they shouldn’t both have taken the same road, for good or evil. But, I thought in my mind, Hindley, with apparently the stronger head, has shown himself sadly the worse and the weaker man. When his ship struck, the captain abandoned his post; and the crew, instead of trying to save her, rushed into riot and confusion, leaving no hope for their luckless vessel. Linton, on the contrary, displayed the true courage of a loyal and faithful soul: he trusted God; and God comforted him. One hoped, and the other despaired: they chose their own lots, and were righteously doomed to endure them. But you’ll not want to hear my moralising, Mr. Lockwood; you’ll judge, as well as I can, all these things: at least, you’ll think you will, and that’s the same. The end of Earnshaw was what might have been expected; it followed fast on his sister’s: there were scarcely six months between them. We, at the Grange, never got a very succinct account of his state preceding it; all that I did learn was on occasion of going to aid in the preparations for the funeral. Mr. Kenneth came to announce the event to my master. ‘Well, Nelly,’ said he, riding into the yard one morning, too early not to alarm me with an instant presentiment of bad news, ‘it’s yours and my turn to go into mourning at present. Who’s given us the slip now, do you think?’ ‘Who?’ I asked in a flurry. ‘Why, guess!’ he returned, dismounting, and slinging his bridle on a hook by the door. ‘And nip up the corner of your apron: I’m certain you’ll need it.’ ‘Not Mr. Heathcliff, surely?’ I exclaimed. ‘What! would you have tears for him?’ said the doctor. ‘No, Heathcliff’s a tough young fellow: he looks blooming to-day. I’ve just seen him. He’s rapidly regaining flesh since he lost his better half.’ ‘Who is it, then, Mr. Kenneth?’ I repeated impatiently. ‘Hindley Earnshaw! Your old friend Hindley,’ he replied, ‘and my wicked gossip: though he’s been too wild for me this long while. There! I said we should draw water. But cheer up! He died true to his character: drunk as a lord. Poor lad! I’m sorry, too. One can’t help missing an old companion: though he had the worst tricks with him that ever man imagined, and has done me many a rascally turn. He’s barely twenty-seven, it seems; that’s your own age: who would have thought you were born in one year?’ I confess this blow was greater to me than the shock of Mrs. Linton’s death: ancient associations lingered round my heart; I sat down in the porch and wept as for a blood relation, desiring Mr. Kenneth to get another servant to introduce him to the master. I could not hinder myself from pondering on the question ‘Had he had fair play?’ Whatever I did, that idea would bother me: it was so tiresomely pertinacious that I resolved on requesting leave to go to Wuthering Heights, and assist in the last duties to the dead. Mr. Linton was extremely reluctant to consent, but I pleaded eloquently for the friendless condition in which he lay; and I said my old master and foster-brother had a claim on my services as strong as his own. Besides, I reminded him that the child Hareton was his wife’s nephew, and, in the absence of nearer kin, he ought to act as its guardian; and he ought to and must inquire how the property was left, and look over the concerns of his brother-inlaw. He was unfit for attending to such matters then, but he bid me speak to his lawyer; and at length permitted me to go. His lawyer had been Earnshaw’s also: I called at the village, and asked him to accompany me. He shook his head, and advised that Heathcliff should be let alone; affirming, if the truth were known, Hareton would be found little else than a beggar. ‘His father died in debt,’ he said; ‘the whole property is mortgaged, and the sole chance for the natural heir is to allow him an opportunity of creating some interest in the creditor’s heart, that he may be inclined to deal leniently towards him.’ When I reached the Heights, I explained that I had come to see everything carried on decently; and Joseph, who appeared in sufficient distress, expressed satisfaction at my presence. Mr. Heathcliff said he did not perceive that I was wanted; but I might stay and order the arrangements for the funeral, if I chose. ‘Correctly,’ he remarked, ‘that fool’s body should he buried at the cross-roads, without ceremony of any kind. I happened to leave him ten minutes yesterday afternoon, and in that interval he fastened the two doors of the house against me, and he has spent the night in drinking himself to death deliberately! We broke in this morning, for we heard him sporting like a horse; and there he was, laid over the settle: flaying and scalping would not have wakened him. I sent for Kenneth, and he came; but not till the beast had changed into carrion: he was both dead and cold, and stark; and so you’ll allow it was useless making more stir about him!’ The old servant confirmed this statement, but muttered: ‘I’d rayther he’d goan hisseln for t’ doctor! I sud ha,’ taen tent o’ t’ maister better nor him and he warn’t deead when I left, naught o’ t’ soart!’ I insisted on the funeral being respectable. Mr. Heathcliff said I might have my own way there too: only, he desired me to remember that the money for the whole affair came out of his pocket. He maintained a hard, careless deportment, indicative of neither joy nor sorrow: if anything, it expressed a flinty gratification at a piece of difficult work successfully executed. I observed once, indeed, something like exultation in his aspect: it was just when the people were bearing the coffin from the house. He had the hypocrisy to represent a mourner: and previous to following with Hareton, he lifted the unfortunate child on to the table and muttered, with peculiar gusto, ‘Now, my bonny lad, you are MINE! And we’ll see if one tree won’t grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!’ The unsuspecting thing was pleased at this speech: he played with Heathcliff’s whiskers, and stroked his cheek; but I divined its meaning, and observed tartly, ‘That boy must go back with me to Thrushcross Grange, sir. There is nothing in the world less yours than he is!’ ‘Does Linton say so?’ he demanded. ‘Of course he has ordered me to take him,’ I replied. ‘Well,’ said the scoundrel, ‘we’ll not argue the subject now: but I have a fancy to try my hand at rearing a young one; so intimate to your master that I must supply the place of this with my own, if he attempt to remove it. I don’t engage to let Hareton go undisputed; but I’ll be pretty sure to make the other come! Remember to tell him.’ This hint was enough to bind our hands. I repeated its substance on my return; and Edgar Linton, little interested at the commencement, spoke no more of interfering. I’m not aware that he could have done it to any purpose, had he been ever so willing. The guest was now the master of Wuthering Heights: he held firm possession, and proved to the attorney who, in his turn, proved it to Mr. Linton that Earnshaw had mortgaged every yard of land he owned for cash to supply his mania for gaming; and he, Heathcliff, was the mortgagee. In that manner Hareton, who should now be the first gentleman in the neighbourhood, was reduced to a state of complete dependence on his father’s inveterate enemy; and lives in his own house as a servant, deprived of the advantage of wages: quite unable to right himself, because of his friendlessness, and his ignorance that he has been wronged. Chapter XVIII THE twelve years, continued Mrs. Dean, following that dismal period were the happiest of my life: my greatest troubles in their passage rose from our little lady’s trifling illnesses, which she had to experience in common with all children, rich and poor. For the rest, after the first six months, she grew like a larch, and could walk and talk too, in her own way, before the heath blossomed a second time over Mrs. Linton’s dust. She was the most winning thing that ever brought sunshine into a desolate house: a real beauty in face, with the Earnshaws’ handsome dark eyes, but the Lintons’ fair skin and small features, and yellow curling hair. Her spirit was high, though not rough, and qualified by a heart sensitive and lively to excess in its affections. That capacity for intense attachments reminded me of her mother: still she did not resemble her: for she could be soft and mild as a dove, and she had a gentle voice and pensive expression: her anger was never furious; her love never fierce: it was deep and tender. However, it must be acknowledged, she had faults to foil her gifts. A propensity to be saucy was one; and a perverse will, that indulged children invariably acquire, whether they be good tempered or cross. If a servant chanced to vex her, it was always ‘I shall tell papa!’ And if he reproved her, even by a look, you would have thought it a heart-breaking business: I don’t believe he ever did speak a harsh word to her. He took her education entirely on himself, and made it an amusement. Fortunately, curiosity and a quick intellect made her an apt scholar: she learned rapidly and eagerly, and did honour to his teaching. Till she reached the age of thirteen she had not once been beyond the range of the park by herself. Mr. Linton would take her with him a mile or so outside, on rare occasions; but he trusted her to no one else. Gimmerton was an unsubstantial name in her ears; the chapel, the only building she had approached or entered, except her own home. Wuthering Heights and Mr. Heathcliff did not exist for her: she was a perfect recluse; and, apparently, perfectly contented. Sometimes, indeed, while surveying the country from her nursery window, she would observe - ‘Ellen, how long will it be before I can walk to the top of those hills? I wonder what lies on the other side is it the sea?’ ‘No, Miss Cathy,’ I would answer; ‘it is hills again, just like these.’ ‘And what are those golden rocks like when you stand under them?’ she once asked. The abrupt descent of Penistone Crags particularly attracted her notice; especially when the setting sun shone on it and the topmost heights, and the whole extent of landscape besides lay in shadow. I explained that they were bare masses of stone, with hardly enough earth in their clefts to nourish a stunted tree. ‘And why are they bright so long after it is evening here?’ she pursued. ‘Because they are a great deal higher up than we are,’ replied I; ‘you could not climb them, they are too high and steep. In winter the frost is always there before it comes to us; and deep into summer I have found snow under that black hollow on the north-east side!’ ‘Oh, you have been on them!’ she cried gleefully. ‘Then I can go, too, when I am a woman. Has papa been, Ellen?’ ‘Papa would tell you, Miss,’ I answered, hastily, ‘that they are not worth the trouble of visiting. The moors, where you ramble with him, are much nicer; and Thrushcross Park is the finest place in the world.’ ‘But I know the park, and I don’t know those,’ she murmured to herself. ‘And I should delight to look round me from the brow of that tallest point: my little pony Minny shall take me some time.’ One of the maids mentioning the Fairy Cave, quite turned her head with a desire to fulfil this project: she teased Mr. Linton about it; and he promised she should have the journey when she got older. But Miss Catherine measured her age by months, and, ‘Now, am I old enough to go to Penistone Crags?’ was the constant question in her mouth. The road thither wound close by Wuthering Heights. Edgar had not the heart to pass it; so she received as constantly the answer, ‘Not yet, love: not yet.’ I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived above a dozen years after quitting her husband. Her family were of a delicate constitution: she and Edgar both lacked the ruddy health that you will generally meet in these parts. What her last illness was, I am not certain: I conjecture, they died of the same thing, a kind of fever, slow at its commencement, but incurable, and rapidly consuming life towards the close. She wrote to inform her brother of the probable conclusion of a four-months’ indisposition under which she had suffered, and entreated him to come to her, if possible; for she had much to settle, and she wished to bid him adieu, and deliver Linton safely into his hands. Her hope was that Linton might be left with him, as he had been with her: his father, she would fain convince herself, had no desire to assume the burden of his maintenance or education. My master hesitated not a moment in complying with her request: reluctant as he was to leave home at ordinary calls, he flew to answer this; commanding Catherine to my peculiar vigilance, in his absence, with reiterated orders that she must not wander out of the park, even under my escort he did not calculate on her going unaccompanied. He was away three weeks. The first day or two my charge sat in a corner of the library, too sad for either reading or playing: in that quiet state she caused me little trouble; but it was succeeded by an interval of impatient, fretful weariness; and being too busy, and too old then, to run up and down amusing her, I hit on a method by which she might entertain herself. I used to send her on her travels round the grounds now on foot, and now on a pony; indulging her with a patient audience of all her real and imaginary adventures when she returned. The summer shone in full prime; and she took such a taste for this solitary rambling that she often contrived to remain out from breakfast till tea; and then the evenings were spent in recounting her fanciful tales. I did not fear her breaking bounds; because the gates were generally looked, and I thought she would scarcely venture forth alone, if they had stood wide open. Unluckily, my confidence proved misplaced. Catherine came to me, one morning, at eight o’clock, and said she was that day an Arabian merchant, going to cross the Desert with his caravan; and I must give her plenty of provision for herself and beasts: a horse, and three camels, personated by a large hound and a couple of pointers. I got together good store of dainties, and slung them in a basket on one side of the saddle; and she sprang up as gay as a fairy, sheltered by her wide-brimmed hat and gauze veil from the July sun, and trotted off with a merry laugh, mocking my cautious counsel to avoid galloping, and come back early. The naughty thing never made her appearance at tea. One traveller, the hound, being an old dog and fond of its ease, returned; but neither Cathy, nor the pony, nor the two pointers were visible in any direction: I despatched emissaries down this path, and that path, and at last went wandering in search of her myself. There was a labourer working at a fence round a plantation, on the borders of the grounds. I inquired of him if he had seen our young lady. ‘I saw her at morn,’ he replied: ‘she would have me to cut her a hazel switch, and then she leapt her Galloway over the hedge yonder, where it is lowest, and galloped out of sight.’ You may guess how I felt at hearing this news. It struck me directly she must have started for Penistone Crags. ‘What will become of her?’ I ejaculated, pushing through a gap which the man was repairing, and making straight to the high-road. I walked as if for a wager, mile after mile, till a turn brought me in view of the Heights; but no Catherine could I detect, far or near. The Crags lie about a mile and a half beyond Mr. Heathcliff’s place, and that is four from the Grange, so I began to fear night would fall ere I could reach them. ‘And what if she should have slipped in clambering among them,’ I reflected, ‘and been killed, or broken some of her bones?’ My suspense was truly painful; and, at first, it gave me delightful relief to observe, in hurrying by the farmhouse, Charlie, the fiercest of the pointers, lying under a window, with swelled head and bleeding ear. I opened the wicket and ran to the door, knocking vehemently for admittance. A woman whom I knew, and who formerly lived at Gimmerton, answered: she had been servant there since the death of Mr. Earnshaw. ‘Ah,’ said she, ‘you are come a-seeking your little mistress! Don’t be frightened. She’s here safe: but I’m glad it isn’t the master.’ ‘He is not at home then, is he?’ I panted, quite breathless with quick walking and alarm. ‘No, no,’ she replied: ‘both he and Joseph are off, and I think they won’t return this hour or more. Step in and rest you a bit.’ I entered, and beheld my stray lamb seated on the hearth, rocking herself in a little chair that had been her mother’s when a child. Her hat was hung against the wall, and she seemed perfectly at home, laughing and chattering, in the best spirits imaginable, to Hareton now a great, strong lad of eighteen who stared at her with considerable curiosity and astonishment: comprehending precious little of the fluent succession of remarks and questions which her tongue never ceased pouring forth. ‘Very well, Miss!’ I exclaimed, concealing my joy under an angry countenance. ‘This is your last ride, till papa comes back. I’ll not trust you over the threshold again, you naughty, naughty girl!’ ‘Aha, Ellen!’ she cried, gaily, jumping up and running to my side. ‘I shall have a pretty story to tell to-night; and so you’ve found me out. Have you ever been here in your life before?’ ‘Put that hat on, and home at once,’ said I. ‘I’m dreadfully grieved at you, Miss Cathy: you’ve done extremely wrong! It’s no use pouting and crying: that won’t repay the trouble I’ve had, scouring the country after you. To think how Mr. Linton charged me to keep you in; and you stealing off so! It shows you are a cunning little fox, and nobody will put faith in you any more.’ ‘What have I done?’ sobbed she, instantly checked. ‘Papa charged me nothing: he’ll not scold me, Ellen he’s never cross, like you!’ ‘Come, come!’ I repeated. ‘I’ll tie the riband. Now, let us have no petulance. Oh, for shame! You thirteen years old, and such a baby!’ This exclamation was caused by her pushing the hat from her head, and retreating to the chimney out of my reach. ‘Nay,’ said the servant, ‘don’t be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs. Dean. We made her stop: she’d fain have ridden forwards, afeard you should be uneasy. Hareton offered to go with her, and I thought he should: it’s a wild road over the hills.’ Hareton, during the discussion, stood with his hands in his pockets, too awkward to speak; though he looked as if he did not relish my intrusion. ‘How long am I to wait?’ I continued, disregarding the woman’s interference. ‘It will be dark in ten minutes. Where is the pony, Miss Cathy? And where is Phoenix? I shall leave you, unless you be quick; so please yourself.’ ‘The pony is in the yard,’ she replied, ‘and Phoenix is shut in there. He’s bitten and so is Charlie. I was going to tell you all about it; but you are in a bad temper, and don’t deserve to hear.’ I picked up her hat, and approached to reinstate it; but perceiving that the people of the house took her part, she commenced capering round the room; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouse over and under and behind the furniture, rendering it ridiculous for me to pursue. Hareton and the woman laughed, and she joined them, and waxed more impertinent still; till I cried, in great irritation, ‘Well, Miss Cathy, if you were aware whose house this is you’d be glad enough to get out.’ ‘It’s YOUR father’s, isn’t it?’ said she, turning to Hareton. ‘Nay,’ he replied, looking down, and blushing bashfully. He could not stand a steady gaze from her eyes, though they were just his own. ‘Whose then your master’s?’ she asked. He coloured deeper, with a different feeling, muttered an oath, and turned away. ‘Who is his master?’ continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me. ‘He talked about ‘our house,’ and ‘our folk.’ I thought he had been the owner’s son. And he never said Miss: he should have done, shouldn’t he, if he’s a servant?’ Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this childish speech. I silently shook my questioner, and at last succeeded in equipping her for departure. ‘Now, get my horse,’ she said, addressing her unknown kinsman as she would one of the stable-boys at the Grange. ‘And you may come with me. I want to see where the goblin-hunter rises in the marsh, and to hear about the FAIRISHES, as you call them: but make haste! What’s the matter? Get my horse, I say.’ ‘I’ll see thee damned before I be THY servant!’ growled the lad. ‘You’ll see me WHAT!’ asked Catherine in surprise. ‘Damned thou saucy witch!’ he replied. ‘There, Miss Cathy! you see you have got into pretty company,’ I interposed. ‘Nice words to be used to a young lady! Pray don’t begin to dispute with him. Come, let us seek for Minny ourselves, and begone.’ ‘But, Ellen,’ cried she, staring fixed in astonishment, ‘how dare he speak so to me? Mustn’t he be made to do as I ask him? You wicked creature, I shall tell papa what you said. Now, then!’ Hareton did not appear to feel this threat; so the tears sprang into her eyes with indignation. ‘You bring the pony,’ she exclaimed, turning to the woman, ‘and let my dog free this moment!’ ‘Softly, Miss,’ answered she addressed: ‘you’ll lose nothing by being civil. Though Mr. Hareton, there, be not the master’s son, he’s your cousin: and I was never hired to serve you.’ ‘HE my cousin!’ cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh. ‘Yes, indeed,’ responded her reprover. ‘Oh, Ellen! don’t let them say such things,’ she pursued in great trouble. ‘Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London: my cousin is a gentleman’s son. That my ‘ she stopped, and wept outright; upset at the bare notion of relationship with such a clown. ‘Hush, hush!’ I whispered; ‘people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn’t keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.’ ‘He’s not he’s not my cousin, Ellen!’ she went on, gathering fresh grief from reflection, and flinging herself into my arms for refuge from the idea. I was much vexed at her and the servant for their mutual revelations; having no doubt of Linton’s approaching arrival, communicated by the former, being reported to Mr. Heathcliff; and feeling as confident that Catherine’s first thought on her father’s return would be to seek an explanation of the latter’s assertion concerning her rude-bred kindred. Hareton, recovering from his disgust at being taken for a servant, seemed moved by her distress; and, having fetched the pony round to the door, he took, to propitiate her, a fine crooked-legged terrier whelp from the kennel, and putting it into her hand, bid her whist! for he meant nought. Pausing in her lamentations, she surveyed him with a glance of awe and horror, then burst forth anew. I could scarcely refrain from smiling at this antipathy to the poor fellow; who was a well-made, athletic youth, good-looking in features, and stout and healthy, but attired in garments befitting his daily occupations of working on the farm and lounging among the moors after rabbits and game. Still, I thought I could detect in his physiognomy a mind owning better qualities than his father ever possessed. Good things lost amid a wilderness of weeds, to be sure, whose rankness far over-topped their neglected growth; yet, notwithstanding, evidence of a wealthy soil, that might yield luxuriant crops under other and favourable circumstances. Mr. Heathcliff, I believe, had not treated him physically ill; thanks to his fearless nature, which offered no temptation to that course of oppression: he had none of the timid susceptibility that would have given zest to ill-treatment, in Heathcliff s judgment. He appeared to have bent his malevolence on making him a brute: he was never taught to read or write; never rebuked for any bad habit which did not annoy his keeper; never led a single step towards virtue, or guarded by a single precept against vice. And from what I heard, Joseph contributed much to his deterioration, by a narrowminded partiality which prompted him to flatter and pet him, as a boy, because he was the head of the old family. And as he had been in the habit of accusing Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, when children, of putting the master past his patience, and compelling him to seek solace in drink by what he termed their ‘offald ways,’ so at present he laid the whole burden of Hareton’s faults on the shoulders of the usurper of his property. If the lad swore, he wouldn’t correct him: nor however culpably he behaved. It gave Joseph satisfaction, apparently, to watch him go the worst lengths: he allowed that the lad was ruined: that his soul was abandoned to perdition; but then he reflected that Heathcliff must answer for it. Hareton’s blood would be required at his hands; and there lay immense consolation in that thought. Joseph had instilled into him a pride of name, and of his lineage; he would, had he dared, have fostered hate between him and the present owner of the Heights: but his dread of that owner amounted to superstition; and he confined his feelings regarding him to muttered innuendoes and private comminations. I don’t pretend to be intimately acquainted with the mode of living customary in those days at Wuthering Heights: I only speak from hearsay; for I saw little. The villagers affirmed Mr. Heathcliff was NEAR, and a cruel hard landlord to his tenants; but the house, inside, had regained its ancient aspect of comfort under female management, and the scenes of riot common in Hindley’s time were not now enacted within its walls. The master was too gloomy to seek companionship with any people, good or bad; and he is yet. This, however, is not making progress with my story. Miss Cathy rejected the peace-offering of the terrier, and demanded her own dogs, Charlie and Phoenix. They came limping and hanging their heads; and we set out for home, sadly out of sorts, every one of us. I could not wring from my little lady how she had spent the day; except that, as I supposed, the goal of her pilgrimage was Penistone Crags; and she arrived without adventure to the gate of the farm-house, when Hareton happened to issue forth, attended by some canine followers, who attacked her train. They had a smart battle, before their owners could separate them: that formed an introduction. Catherine told Hareton who she was, and where she was going; and asked him to show her the way: finally, beguiling him to accompany her. He opened the mysteries of the Fairy Cave, and twenty other queer places. But, being in disgrace, I was not favoured with a description of the interesting objects she saw. I could gather, however, that her guide had been a favourite till she hurt his feelings by addressing him as a servant; and Heathcliff’s housekeeper hurt hers by calling him her cousin. Then the language he had held to her rankled in her heart; she who was always ‘love,’ and ‘darling,’ and ‘queen,’ and ‘angel,’ with everybody at the Grange, to be insulted so shockingly by a stranger! She did not comprehend it; and hard work I had to obtain a promise that she would not lay the grievance before her father. I explained how he objected to the whole household at the Heights, and how sorry he would be to find she had been there; but I insisted most on the fact, that if she revealed my negligence of his orders, he would perhaps be so angry that I should have to leave; and Cathy couldn’t bear that prospect: she pledged her word, and kept it for my sake. After all, she was a sweet little girl. Chapter XIX A LETTER, edged with black, announced the day of my master’s return, Isabella was dead; and he wrote to bid me get mourning for his daughter, and arrange a room, and other accommodations, for his youthful nephew. Catherine ran wild with joy at the idea of welcoming her father back; and indulged most sanguine anticipations of the innumerable excellencies of her ‘real’ cousin. The evening of their expected arrival came. Since early morning she had been busy ordering her own small affairs; and now attired in her new black frock poor thing! her aunt’s death impressed her with no definite sorrow she obliged me, by constant worrying, to walk with her down through the grounds to meet them. ‘Linton is just six months younger than I am,’ she chattered, as we strolled leisurely over the swells and hollows of mossy turf, under shadow of the trees. ‘How delightful it will be to have him for a playfellow! Aunt Isabella sent papa a beautiful lock of his hair; it was lighter than mine more flaxen, and quite as fine. I have it carefully preserved in a little glass box; and I’ve often thought what a pleasure it would be to see its owner. I am happy and papa, dear, dear papa! Come, Ellen, let us run! come, run.’ She ran, and returned and ran again, many times before my sober footsteps reached the gate, and then she seated herself on the grassy bank beside the path, and tried to wait patiently; but that was impossible: she couldn’t be still a minute. ‘How long they are!’ she exclaimed. ‘Ah, I see, some dust on the road they are coming! When will they be here? May we not go a little way half a mile, Ellen, only just half a mile? Do say Yes: to that clump of birches at the turn!’ I refused staunchly. At length her suspense was ended: the travelling carriage rolled in sight. Miss Cathy shrieked and stretched out her arms as soon as she caught her father’s face looking from the window. He descended, nearly as eager as herself; and a considerable interval elapsed ere they had a thought to spare for any but themselves. While they exchanged caresses I took a peep in to see after Linton. He was asleep in a corner, wrapped in a warm, fur-lined cloak, as if it had been winter. A pale, delicate, effeminate boy, who might have been taken for my master’s younger brother, so strong was the resemblance: but there was a sickly peevishness in his aspect that Edgar Linton never had. The latter saw me looking; and having shaken hands, advised me to close the door, and leave him undisturbed; for the journey had fatigued him. Cathy would fain have taken one glance, but her father told her to come, and they walked together up the park, while I hastened before to prepare the servants. ‘Now, darling,’ said Mr. Linton, addressing his daughter, as they halted at the bottom of the front steps: ‘your cousin is not so strong or so merry as you are, and he has lost his mother, remember, a very short time since; therefore, don’t expect him to play and run about with you directly. And don’t harass him much by talking: let him be quiet this evening, at least, will you?’ ‘Yes, yes, papa,’ answered Catherine: ‘but I do want to see him; and he hasn’t once looked out.’ The carriage stopped; and the sleeper being roused, was lifted to the ground by his uncle. ‘This is your cousin Cathy, Linton,’ he said, putting their little hands together. ‘She’s fond of you already; and mind you don’t grieve her by crying to-night. Try to be cheerful now; the travelling is at an end, and you have nothing to do but rest and amuse yourself as you please.’ ‘Let me go to bed, then,’ answered the boy, shrinking from Catherine’s salute; and he put his fingers to remove incipient tears. ‘Come, come, there’s a good child,’ I whispered, leading him in. ‘You’ll make her weep too see how sorry she is for you!’ I do not know whether it was sorrow for him, but his cousin put on as sad a countenance as himself, and returned to her father. All three entered, and mounted to the library, where tea was laid ready. I proceeded to remove Linton’s cap and mantle, and placed him on a chair by the table; but he was no sooner seated than he began to cry afresh. My master inquired what was the matter. ‘I can’t sit on a chair,’ sobbed the boy. ‘Go to the sofa, then, and Ellen shall bring you some tea,’ answered his uncle patiently. He had been greatly tried, during the journey, I felt convinced, by his fretful ailing charge. Linton slowly trailed himself off, and lay down. Cathy carried a footstool and her cup to his side. At first she sat silent; but that could not last: she had resolved to make a pet of her little cousin, as she would have him to be; and she commenced stroking his curls, and kissing his cheek, and offering him tea in her saucer, like a baby. This pleased him, for he was not much better: he dried his eyes, and lightened into a faint smile. ‘Oh, he’ll do very well,’ said the master to me, after watching them a minute. ‘Very well, if we can keep him, Ellen. The company of a child of his own age will instil new spirit into him soon, and by wishing for strength he’ll gain it.’ ‘Ay, if we can keep him!’ I mused to myself; and sore misgivings came over me that there was slight hope of that. And then, I thought, how ever will that weakling live at Wuthering Heights? Between his father and Hareton, what playmates and instructors they’ll be. Our doubts were presently decided even earlier than I expected. I had just taken the children up-stairs, after tea was finished, and seen Linton asleep he would not suffer me to leave him till that was the case I had come down, and was standing by the table in the hall, lighting a bedroom candle for Mr. Edgar, when a maid stepped out of the kitchen and informed me that Mr. Heathcliff’s servant Joseph was at the door, and wished to speak with the master. ‘I shall ask him what he wants first,’ I said, in considerable trepidation. ‘A very unlikely hour to be troubling people, and the instant they have returned from a long journey. I don’t think the master can see him.’ Joseph had advanced through the kitchen as I uttered these words, and now presented himself in the hall. He was donned in his Sunday garments, with his most sanctimonious and sourest face, and, holding his hat in one hand, and his stick in the other, he proceeded to clean his shoes on the mat. ‘Good-evening, Joseph,’ I said, coldly. ‘What business brings you here to-night?’ ‘It’s Maister Linton I mun spake to,’ he answered, waving me disdainfully aside. ‘Mr. Linton is going to bed; unless you have something particular to say, I’m sure he won’t hear it now,’ I continued. ‘You had better sit down in there, and entrust your message to me.’ ‘Which is his rahm?’ pursued the fellow, surveying the range of closed doors. I perceived he was bent on refusing my mediation, so very reluctantly I went up to the library, and announced the unseasonable visitor, advising that he should be dismissed till next day. Mr. Linton had no time to empower me to do so, for Joseph mounted close at my heels, and, pushing into the apartment, planted himself at the far side of the table, with his two fists clapped on the head of his stick, and began in an elevated tone, as if anticipating opposition - ‘Hathecliff has sent me for his lad, and I munn’t goa back ‘bout him.’ Edgar Linton was silent a minute; an expression of exceeding sorrow overcast his features: he would have pitied the child on his own account; but, recalling Isabella’s hopes and fears, and anxious wishes for her son, and her commendations of him to his care, he grieved bitterly at the prospect of yielding him up, and searched in his heart how it might be avoided. No plan offered itself: the very exhibition of any desire to keep him would have rendered the claimant more peremptory: there was nothing left but to resign him. However, he was not going to rouse him from his sleep. ‘Tell Mr. Heathcliff,’ he answered calmly, ‘that his son shall come to Wuthering Heights to-morrow. He is in bed, and too tired to go the distance now. You may also tell him that the mother of Linton desired him to remain under my guardianship; and, at present, his health is very precarious.’ ‘Noa!’ said Joseph, giving a thud with his prop on the floor, and assuming an authoritative air. ‘Noa! that means naught. Hathecliff maks noa ‘count o’ t’ mother, nor ye norther; but he’ll heu’ his lad; und I mun tak’ him soa now ye knaw!’ ‘You shall not to-night!’ answered Linton decisively. ‘Walk down stairs at once, and repeat to your master what I have said. Ellen, show him down. Go ‘ And, aiding the indignant elder with a lift by the arm, he rid the room of him and closed the door. ‘Varrah weell!’ shouted Joseph, as he slowly drew off. ‘To-morn, he’s come hisseln, and thrust HIM out, if ye darr!’ Chapter XX TO obviate the danger of this threat being fulfilled, Mr. Linton commissioned me to take the boy home early, on Catherine’s pony; and, said he ‘As we shall now have no influence over his destiny, good or bad, you must say nothing of where he is gone to my daughter: she cannot associate with him hereafter, and it is better for her to remain in ignorance of his proximity; lest she should be restless, and anxious to visit the Heights. Merely tell her his father sent for him suddenly, and he has been obliged to leave us.’ Linton was very reluctant to be roused from his bed at five o’clock, and astonished to be informed that he must prepare for further travelling; but I softened off the matter by stating that he was going to spend some time with his father, Mr. Heathcliff, who wished to see him so much, he did not like to defer the pleasure till he should recover from his late journey. ‘My father!’ he cried, in strange perplexity. ‘Mamma never told me I had a father. Where does he live? I’d rather stay with uncle.’ ‘He lives a little distance from the Grange,’ I replied; ‘just beyond those hills: not so far, but you may walk over here when you get hearty. And you should be glad to go home, and to see him. You must try to love him, as you did your mother, and then he will love you.’ ‘But why have I not heard of him before?’ asked Linton. ‘Why didn’t mamma and he live together, as other people do?’ ‘He had business to keep him in the north,’ I answered, ‘and your mother’s health required her to reside in the south.’ ‘And why didn’t mamma speak to me about him?’ persevered the child. ‘She often talked of uncle, and I learnt to love him long ago. How am I to love papa? I don’t know him.’ ‘Oh, all children love their parents,’ I said. ‘Your mother, perhaps, thought you would want to be with him if she mentioned him often to you. Let us make haste. An early ride on such a beautiful morning is much preferable to an hour’s more sleep.’ ‘Is SHE to go with us,’ he demanded, ‘the little girl I saw yesterday?’ ‘Not now,’ replied I. ‘Is uncle?’ he continued. ‘No, I shall be your companion there,’ I said. Linton sank back on his pillow and fell into a brown study. ‘I won’t go without uncle,’ he cried at length: ‘I can’t tell where you mean to take me.’ I attempted to persuade him of the naughtiness of showing reluctance to meet his father; still he obstinately resisted any progress towards dressing, and I had to call for my master’s assistance in coaxing him out of bed. The poor thing was finally got off, with several delusive assurances that his absence should be short: that Mr. Edgar and Cathy would visit him, and other promises, equally ill-founded, which I invented and reiterated at intervals throughout the way. The pure heather-scented air, the bright sunshine, and the gentle canter of Minny, relieved his despondency after a while. He began to put questions concerning his new home, and its inhabitants, with greater interest and liveliness. ‘Is Wuthering Heights as pleasant a place as Thrushcross Grange?’ he inquired, turning to take a last glance into the valley, whence a light mist mounted and formed a fleecy cloud on the skirts of the blue. ‘It is not so buried in trees,’ I replied, ‘and it is not quite so large, but you can see the country beautifully all round; and the air is healthier for you fresher and drier. You will, perhaps, think the building old and dark at first; though it is a respectable house: the next best in the neighbourhood. And you will have such nice rambles on the moors. Hareton Earnshaw that is, Miss Cathy’s other cousin, and so yours in a manner will show you all the sweetest spots; and you can bring a book in fine weather, and make a green hollow your study; and, now and then, your uncle may join you in a walk: he does, frequently, walk out on the hills.’ ‘And what is my father like?’ he asked. ‘Is he as young and handsome as uncle?’ ‘He’s as young,’ said I; ‘but he has black hair and eyes, and looks sterner; and he is taller and bigger altogether. He’ll not seem to you so gentle and kind at first, perhaps, because it is not his way: still, mind you, be frank and cordial with him; and naturally he’ll be fonder of you than any uncle, for you are his own.’ ‘Black hair and eyes!’ mused Linton. ‘I can’t fancy him. Then I am not like him, am I?’ ‘Not much,’ I answered: not a morsel, I thought, surveying with regret the white complexion and slim frame of my companion, and his large languid eyes his mother’s eyes, save that, unless a morbid touchiness kindled them a moment, they had not a vestige of her sparkling spirit. ‘How strange that he should never come to see mamma and me!’ he murmured. ‘Has he ever seen me? If he has, I must have been a baby. I remember not a single thing about him!’ ‘Why, Master Linton,’ said I, ‘three hundred miles is a great distance; and ten years seem very different in length to a grown-up person compared with what they do to you. It is probable Mr. Heathcliff proposed going from summer to summer, but never found a convenient opportunity; and now it is too late. Don’t trouble him with questions on the subject: it will disturb him, for no good.’ The boy was fully occupied with his own cogitations for the remainder of the ride, till we halted before the farmhouse gardengate. I watched to catch his impressions in his countenance. He surveyed the carved front and low-browed lattices, the straggling gooseberry-bushes and crooked firs, with solemn intentness, and then shook his head: his private feelings entirely disapproved of the exterior of his new abode. But he had sense to postpone complaining: there might be compensation within. Before he dismounted, I went and opened the door. It was half-past six; the family had just finished breakfast: the servant was clearing and wiping down the table. Joseph stood by his master’s chair telling some tale concerning a lame horse; and Hareton was preparing for the hayfield. ‘Hallo, Nelly!’ said Mr. Heathcliff, when he saw me. ‘I feared I should have to come down and fetch my property myself. You’ve brought it, have you? Let us see what we can make of it.’ He got up and strode to the door: Hareton and Joseph followed in gaping curiosity. Poor Linton ran a frightened eye over the faces of the three. ‘Sure-ly,’ said Joseph after a grave inspection, ‘he’s swopped wi’ ye, Maister, an’ yon’s his lass!’ Heathcliff, having stared his son into an ague of confusion, uttered a scornful laugh. ‘God! what a beauty! what a lovely, charming thing!’ he exclaimed. ‘Hav’n’t they reared it on snails and sour milk, Nelly? Oh, damn my soul! but that’s worse than I expected and the devil knows I was not sanguine!’ I bid the trembling and bewildered child get down, and enter. He did not thoroughly comprehend the meaning of his father’s speech, or whether it were intended for him: indeed, he was not yet certain that the grim, sneering stranger was his father. But he clung to me with growing trepidation; and on Mr. Heathcliff’s taking a seat and bidding him ‘come hither’ he hid his face on my shoulder and wept. ‘Tut, tut!’ said Heathcliff, stretching out a hand and dragging him roughly between his knees, and then holding up his head by the chin. ‘None of that nonsense! We’re not going to hurt thee, Linton isn’t that thy name? Thou art thy mother’s child, entirely! Where is my share in thee, puling chicken?’ He took off the boy’s cap and pushed back his thick flaxen curls, felt his slender arms and his small fingers; during which examination Linton ceased crying, and lifted his great blue eyes to inspect the inspector. ‘Do you know me?’ asked Heathcliff, having satisfied himself that the limbs were all equally frail and feeble. ‘No,’ said Linton, with a gaze of vacant fear. ‘You’ve heard of me, I daresay?’ ‘No,’ he replied again. ‘No! What a shame of your mother, never to waken your filial regard for me! You are my son, then, I’ll tell you; and your mother was a wicked slut to leave you in ignorance of the sort of father you possessed. Now, don’t wince, and colour up! Though it is something to see you have not white blood. Be a good lad; and I’ll do for you. Nelly, if you be tired you may sit down; if not, get home again. I guess you’ll report what you hear and see to the cipher at the Grange; and this thing won’t be settled while you linger about it.’ ‘Well,’ replied I, ‘I hope you’ll be kind to the boy, Mr. Heathcliff, or you’ll not keep him long; and he’s all you have akin in the wide world, that you will ever know remember.’ ‘I’ll be very kind to him, you needn’t fear,’ he said, laughing. ‘Only nobody else must be kind to him: I’m jealous of monopolising his affection. And, to begin my kindness, Joseph, bring the lad some breakfast. Hareton, you infernal calf, begone to your work. Yes, Nell,’ he added, when they had departed, ‘my son is prospective owner of your place, and I should not wish him to die till I was certain of being his successor. Besides, he’s MINE, and I want the triumph of seeing MY descendant fairly lord of their estates; my child hiring their children to till their fathers’ lands for wages. That is the sole consideration which can make me endure the whelp: I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives! But that consideration is sufficient: he’s as safe with me, and shall be tended as carefully as your master tends his own. I have a room up-stairs, furnished for him in handsome style; I’ve engaged a tutor, also, to come three times a week, from twenty miles’ distance, to teach him what he pleases to learn. I’ve ordered Hareton to obey him: and in fact I’ve arranged everything with a view to preserve the superior and the gentleman in him, above his associates. I do regret, however, that he so little deserves the trouble: if I wished any blessing in the world, it was to find him a worthy object of pride; and I’m bitterly disappointed with the whey-faced, whining wretch!’ While he was speaking, Joseph returned bearing a basin of milkporridge, and placed it before Linton: who stirred round the homely mess with a look of aversion, and affirmed he could not eat it. I saw the old man-servant shared largely in his master’s scorn of the child; though he was compelled to retain the sentiment in his heart, because Heathcliff plainly meant his underlings to hold him in honour. ‘Cannot ate it?’ repeated he, peering in Linton’s face, and subduing his voice to a whisper, for fear of being overheard. ‘But Maister Hareton nivir ate naught else, when he wer a little ‘un; and what wer gooid enough for him’s gooid enough for ye, I’s rayther think!’ ‘I SHA’N’T eat it!’ answered Linton, snappishly. ‘Take it away.’ Joseph snatched up the food indignantly, and brought it to us. ‘Is there aught ails th’ victuals?’ he asked, thrusting the tray under Heathcliff’s nose. ‘What should ail them?’ he said. ‘Wah!’ answered Joseph, ‘yon dainty chap says he cannut ate ‘em. But I guess it’s raight! His mother wer just soa we wer a’most too mucky to sow t’ corn for makking her breead.’ ‘Don’t mention his mother to me,’ said the master, angrily. ‘Get him something that he can eat, that’s all. What is his usual food, Nelly?’ I suggested boiled milk or tea; and the housekeeper received instructions to prepare some. Come, I reflected, his father’s selfishness may contribute to his comfort. He perceives his delicate constitution, and the necessity of treating him tolerably. I’ll console Mr. Edgar by acquainting him with the turn Heathcliff’s humour has taken. Having no excuse for lingering longer, I slipped out, while Linton was engaged in timidly rebuffing the advances of a friendly sheep-dog. But he was too much on the alert to be cheated: as I closed the door, I heard a cry, and a frantic repetition of the words - ‘Don’t leave me! I’ll not stay here! I’ll not stay here!’ Then the latch was raised and fell: they did not suffer him to come forth. I mounted Minny, and urged her to a trot; and so my brief guardianship ended. Chapter XXI WE had sad work with little Cathy that day: she rose in high glee, eager to join her cousin, and such passionate tears and lamentations followed the news of his departure that Edgar himself was obliged to soothe her, by affirming he should come back soon: he added, however, ‘if I can get him’; and there were no hopes of that. This promise poorly pacified her; but time was more potent; and though still at intervals she inquired of her father when Linton would return, before she did see him again his features had waxed so dim in her memory that she did not recognise him. When I chanced to encounter the housekeeper of Wuthering Heights, in paying business visits to Gimmerton, I used to ask how the young master got on; for he lived almost as secluded as Catherine herself, and was never to be seen. I could gather from her that he continued in weak health, and was a tiresome inmate. She said Mr. Heathcliff seemed to dislike him ever longer and worse, though he took some trouble to conceal it: he had an antipathy to the sound of his voice, and could not do at all with his sitting in the same room with him many minutes together. There seldom passed much talk between them: Linton learnt his lessons and spent his evenings in a small apartment they called the parlour: or else lay in bed all day: for he was constantly getting coughs, and colds, and aches, and pains of some sort. ‘And I never know such a fainthearted creature,’ added the woman; ‘nor one so careful of hisseln. He WILL go on, if I leave the window open a bit late in the evening. it’s killing, a breath of night air! And he must have a fire in the middle of summer; and Joseph’s bacca-pipe is poison; and he must always have sweets and dainties, and always milk, milk for ever heeding naught how the rest of us are pinched in winter; and there he’ll sit, wrapped in his furred cloak in his chair by the fire, with some toast and water or other slop on the hob to sip at; and if Hareton, for pity, comes to amuse him Hareton is not bad-natured, though he’s rough they’re sure to part, one swearing and the other crying. I believe the master would relish Earnshaw’s thrashing him to a mummy, if he were not his son; and I’m certain he would be fit to turn him out of doors, if he knew half the nursing he gives hisseln. But then he won’t go into danger of temptation: he never enters the parlour, and should Linton show those ways in the house where he is, he sends him up-stairs directly.’ I divined, from this account, that utter lack of sympathy had rendered young Heathcliff selfish and disagreeable, if he were not so originally; and my interest in him, consequently, decayed: though still I was moved with a sense of grief at his lot, and a wish that he had been left with us. Mr. Edgar encouraged me to gain information: he thought a great deal about him, I fancy, and would have run some risk to see him; and he told me once to ask the housekeeper whether he ever came into the village? She said he had only been twice, on horseback, accompanying his father; and both times he pretended to be quite knocked up for three or four days afterwards. That housekeeper left, if I recollect rightly, two years after he came; and another, whom I did not know, was her successor; she lives there still. Time wore on at the Grange in its former pleasant way till Miss Cathy reached sixteen. On the anniversary of her birth we never manifested any signs of rejoicing, because it was also the anniversary of my late mistress’s death. Her father invariably spent that day alone in the library; and walked, at dusk, as far as Gimmerton kirkyard, where he would frequently prolong his stay beyond midnight. Therefore Catherine was thrown on her own resources for amusement. This twentieth of March was a beautiful spring day, and when her father had retired, my young lady came down dressed for going out, and said she asked to have a ramble on the edge of the moor with me: Mr. Linton had given her leave, if we went only a short distance and were back within the hour. ‘So make haste, Ellen!’ she cried. ‘I know where I wish to go; where a colony of moor-game are settled: I want to see whether they have made their nests yet.’ ‘That must be a good distance up,’ I answered; ‘they don’t breed on the edge of the moor.’ ‘No, it’s not,’ she said. ‘I’ve gone very near with papa.’ I put on my bonnet and sallied out, thinking nothing more of the matter. She bounded before me, and returned to my side, and was off again like a young greyhound; and, at first, I found plenty of entertainment in listening to the larks singing far and near, and enjoying the sweet, warm sunshine; and watching her, my pet and my delight, with her golden ringlets flying loose behind, and her bright cheek, as soft and pure in its bloom as a wild rose, and her eyes radiant with cloudless pleasure. She was a happy creature, and an angel, in those days. It’s a pity she could not be content. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘where are your moor-game, Miss Cathy? We should be at them: the Grange park-fence is a great way off now.’ ‘Oh, a little further only a little further, Ellen,’ was her answer, continually. ‘Climb to that hillock, pass that bank, and by the time you reach the other side I shall have raised the birds.’ But there were so many hillocks and banks to climb and pass, that, at length, I began to be weary, and told her we must halt, and retrace our steps. I shouted to her, as she had outstripped me a long way; she either did not hear or did not regard, for she still sprang on, and I was compelled to follow. Finally, she dived into a hollow; and before I came in sight of her again, she was two miles nearer Wuthering Heights than her own home; and I beheld a couple of persons arrest her, one of whom I felt convinced was Mr. Heathcliff himself. Cathy had been caught in the fact of plundering, or, at least, hunting out the nests of the grouse. The Heights were Heathcliff’s land, and he was reproving the poacher. ‘I’ve neither taken any nor found any,’ she said, as I toiled to them, expanding her hands in corroboration of the statement. ‘I didn’t mean to take them; but papa told me there were quantities up here, and I wished to see the eggs.’ Heathcliff glanced at me with an ill-meaning smile, expressing his acquaintance with the party, and, consequently, his malevolence towards it, and demanded who ‘papa’ was? ‘Mr. Linton of Thrushcross Grange,’ she replied. ‘I thought you did not know me, or you wouldn’t have spoken in that way.’ ‘You suppose papa is highly esteemed and respected, then?’ he said, sarcastically. ‘And what are you?’ inquired Catherine, gazing curiously on the speaker. ‘That man I’ve seen before. Is he your son?’ She pointed to Hareton, the other individual, who had gained nothing but increased bulk and strength by the addition of two years to his age: he seemed as awkward and rough as ever. ‘Miss Cathy,’ I interrupted, ‘it will be three hours instead of one that we are out, presently. We really must go back.’ ‘No, that man is not my son,’ answered Heathcliff, pushing me aside. ‘But I have one, and you have seen him before too; and, though your nurse is in a hurry, I think both you and she would be the better for a little rest. Will you just turn this nab of heath, and walk into my house? You’ll get home earlier for the ease; and you shall receive a kind welcome.’ I whispered Catherine that she mustn’t, on any account, accede to the proposal: it was entirely out of the question. ‘Why?’ she asked, aloud. ‘I’m tired of running, and the ground is dewy: I can’t sit here. Let us go, Ellen. Besides, he says I have seen his son. He’s mistaken, I think; but I guess where he lives: at the farmhouse I visited in coming from Penistone’ Crags. Don’t you?’ ‘I do. Come, Nelly, hold your tongue it will he a treat for her to look in on us. Hareton, get forwards with the lass. You shall walk with me, Nelly.’ ‘No, she’s not going to any such place,’ I cried, struggling to release my arm, which he had seized: but she was almost at the door-stones already, scampering round the brow at full speed. Her appointed companion did not pretend to escort her: he shied off by the road-side, and vanished. ‘Mr. Heathcliff, it’s very wrong,’ I continued: ‘you know you mean no good. And there she’ll see Linton, and all will be told as soon as ever we return; and I shall have the blame.’ ‘I want her to see Linton,’ he answered; ‘he’s looking better these few days; it’s not often he’s fit to be seen. And we’ll soon persuade her to keep the visit secret: where is the harm of it?’ ‘The harm of it is, that her father would hate me if he found I suffered her to enter your house; and I am convinced you have a bad design in encouraging her to do so,’ I replied. ‘My design is as honest as possible. I’ll inform you of its whole scope,’ he said. ‘That the two cousins may fall in love, and get married. I’m acting generously to your master: his young chit has no expectations, and should she second my wishes she’ll be provided for at once as joint successor with Linton.’ ‘If Linton died,’ I answered, ‘and his life is quite uncertain, Catherine would be the heir.’ ‘No, she would not,’ he said. ‘There is no clause in the will to secure it so: his property would go to me; but, to prevent disputes, I desire their union, and am resolved to bring it about.’ ‘And I’m resolved she shall never approach your house with me again,’ I returned, as we reached the gate, where Miss Cathy waited our coming. Heathcliff bade me be quiet; and, preceding us up the path, hastened to open the door. My young lady gave him several looks, as if she could not exactly make up her mind what to think of him; but now he smiled when he met her eye, and softened his voice in addressing her; and I was foolish enough to imagine the memory of her mother might disarm him from desiring her injury. Linton stood on the hearth. He had been out walking in the fields, for his cap was on, and he was calling to Joseph to bring him dry shoes. He had grown tall of his age, still wanting some months of sixteen. His features were pretty yet, and his eye and complexion brighter than I remembered them, though with merely temporary lustre borrowed from the salubrious air and genial sun. ‘Now, who is that?’ asked Mr. Heathcliff, turning to Cathy. ‘Can you tell?’ ‘Your son?’ she said, having doubtfully surveyed, first one and then the other. ‘Yes, yes,’ answered he: ‘but is this the only time you have beheld him? Think! you have a short memory. Linton, don’t you recall your cousin, that you used to tease us so with wishing to see?’ ‘What, Linton!’ cried Cathy, kindling into joyful surprise at the name. ‘Is that little Linton? He’s taller than I am! Are you Linton?’ The youth stepped forward, and acknowledged himself: she kissed him fervently, and they gazed with wonder at the change time had wrought in the appearance of each. Catherine had reached her full height; her figure was both plump and slender, elastic as steel, and her whole aspect sparkling with health and spirits. Linton’s looks and movements were very languid, and his form extremely slight; but there was a grace in his manner that mitigated these defects, and rendered him not unpleasing. After exchanging numerous marks of fondness with him, his cousin went to Mr. Heathcliff, who lingered by the door, dividing his attention between the objects inside and those that lay without: pretending, that is, to observe the latter, and really noting the former alone. ‘And you are my uncle, then!’ she cried, reaching up to salute him. ‘I thought I liked you, though you were cross at first. Why don’t you visit at the Grange with Linton? To live all these years such close neighbours, and never see us, is odd: what have you done so for?’ ‘I visited it once or twice too often before you were born,’ he answered. ‘There damn it! If you have any kisses to spare, give them to Linton: they are thrown away on me.’ ‘Naughty Ellen!’ exclaimed Catherine, flying to attack me next with her lavish caresses. ‘Wicked Ellen! to try to hinder me from entering. But I’ll take this walk every morning in future: may I, uncle? and sometimes bring papa. Won’t you be glad to see us?’ ‘Of course,’ replied the uncle, with a hardly suppressed grimace, resulting from his deep aversion to both the proposed visitors. ‘But stay,’ he continued, turning towards the young lady. ‘Now I think of it, I’d better tell you. Mr. Linton has a prejudice against me: we quarrelled at one time of our lives, with unchristian ferocity; and, if you mention coming here to him, he’ll put a veto on your visits altogether. Therefore, you must not mention it, unless you be careless of seeing your cousin hereafter: you may come, if you will, but you must not mention it.’ ‘Why did you quarrel?’ asked Catherine, considerably crestfallen. ‘He thought me too poor to wed his sister,’ answered Heathcliff, ‘and was grieved that I got her: his pride was hurt, and he’ll never forgive it.’ ‘That’s wrong!’ said the young lady: ‘some time I’ll tell him so. But Linton and I have no share in your quarrel. I’ll not come here, then; he shall come to the Grange.’ ‘It will be too far for me,’ murmured her cousin: ‘to walk four miles would kill me. No, come here, Miss Catherine, now and then: not every morning, but once or twice a week.’ The father launched towards his son a glance of bitter contempt. ‘I am afraid, Nelly, I shall lose my labour,’ he muttered to me. ‘Miss Catherine, as the ninny calls her, will discover his value, and send him to the devil. Now, if it had been Hareton! Do you know that, twenty times a day, I covet Hareton, with all his degradation? I’d have loved the lad had he been some one else. But I think he’s safe from HER love. I’ll pit him against that paltry creature, unless it bestir itself briskly. We calculate it will scarcely last till it is eighteen. Oh, confound the vapid thing! He’s absorbed in drying his feet, and never looks at her. Linton!’ ‘Yes, father,’ answered the boy. ‘Have you nothing to show your cousin anywhere about, not even a rabbit or a weasel’s nest? Take her into the garden, before you change your shoes; and into the stable to see your horse.’ ‘Wouldn’t you rather sit here?’ asked Linton, addressing Cathy in a tone which expressed reluctance to move again. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, casting a longing look to the door, and evidently eager to be active. He kept his seat, and shrank closer to the fire. Heathcliff rose, and went into the kitchen, and from thence to the yard, calling out for Hareton. Hareton responded, and presently the two re-entered. The young man had been washing himself, as was visible by the glow on his cheeks and his wetted hair. ‘Oh, I’ll ask YOU, uncle,’ cried Miss Cathy, recollecting the housekeeper’s assertion. ‘That is not my cousin, is he?’ ‘Yes,’ he, replied, ‘your mother’s nephew. Don’t you like him!’ Catherine looked queer. ‘Is he not a handsome lad?’ he continued. The uncivil little thing stood on tiptoe, and whispered a sentence in Heathcliff’s ear. He laughed; Hareton darkened: I perceived he was very sensitive to suspected slights, and had obviously a dim notion of his inferiority. But his master or guardian chased the frown by exclaiming - ‘You’ll be the favourite among us, Hareton! She says you are a What was it? Well, something very flattering. Here! you go with her round the farm. And behave like a gentleman, mind! Don’t use any bad words; and don’t stare when the young lady is not looking at you, and be ready to hide your face when she is; and, when you speak, say your words slowly, and keep your hands out of your pockets. Be off, and entertain her as nicely as you can.’ He watched the couple walking past the window. Earnshaw had his countenance completely averted from his companion. He seemed studying the familiar landscape with a stranger’s and an artist’s interest. Catherine took a sly look at him, expressing small admiration. She then turned her attention to seeking out objects of amusement for herself, and tripped merrily on, lilting a tune to supply the lack of conversation. ‘I’ve tied his tongue,’ observed Heathcliff. ‘He’ll not venture a single syllable all the time! Nelly, you recollect meat his age nay, some years younger. Did I ever look so stupid: so ‘gaumless,’ as Joseph calls it?’ ‘Worse,’ I replied, ‘because more sullen with it.’ ‘I’ve a pleasure in him,’ he continued, reflecting aloud. ‘He has satisfied my expectations. If he were a born fool I should not enjoy it half so much. But he’s no fool; and I can sympathise with all his feelings, having felt them myself. I know what he suffers now, for instance, exactly: it is merely a beginning of what he shall suffer, though. And he’ll never be able to emerge from his bathos of coarseness and ignorance. I’ve got him faster than his scoundrel of a father secured me, and lower; for he takes a pride in his brutishness. I’ve taught him to scorn everything extraanimal as silly and weak. Don’t you think Hindley would be proud of his son, if he could see him? almost as proud as I am of mine. But there’s this difference; one is gold put to the use of pavingstones, and the other is tin polished to ape a service of silver. MINE has nothing valuable about it; yet I shall have the merit of making it go as far as such poor stuff can go. HIS had first-rate qualities, and they are lost: rendered worse than unavailing. I have nothing to regret; he would have more than any but I are aware of. And the best of it is, Hareton is damnably fond of me! You’ll own that I’ve outmatched Hindley there. If the dead villain could rise from his grave to abuse me for his offspring’s wrongs, I should have the fun of seeing the said offspring fight him back again, indignant that he should dare to rail at the one friend he has in the world!’ Heathcliff chuckled a fiendish laugh at the idea. I made no reply, because I saw that he expected none. Meantime, our young companion, who sat too removed from us to hear what was said, began to evince symptoms of uneasiness, probably repenting that he had denied himself the treat of Catherine’s society for fear of a little fatigue. His father remarked the restless glances wandering to the window, and the hand irresolutely extended towards his cap. ‘Get up, you idle boy!’ he exclaimed, with assumed heartiness. ‘Away after them! they are just at the corner, by the stand of hives.’ Linton gathered his energies, and left the hearth. The lattice was open, and, as he stepped out, I heard Cathy inquiring of her unsociable attendant what was that inscription over the door? Hareton stared up, and scratched his head like a true clown. ‘It’s some damnable writing,’ he answered. ‘I cannot read it.’ ‘Can’t read it?’ cried Catherine; ‘I can read it: it’s English. But I want to know why it is there.’ Linton giggled: the first appearance of mirth he had exhibited. ‘He does not know his letters,’ he said to his cousin. ‘Could you believe in the existence of such a colossal dunce?’ ‘Is he all as he should be?’ asked Miss Cathy, seriously; ‘or is he simple: not right? I’ve questioned him twice now, and each time he looked so stupid I think he does not understand me. I can hardly understand him, I’m sure!’ Linton repeated his laugh, and glanced at Hareton tauntingly; who certainly did not seem quite clear of comprehension at that moment. ‘There’s nothing the matter but laziness; is there, Earnshaw?’ he said. ‘My cousin fancies you are an idiot. There you experience the consequence of scorning ‘book-larning,’ as you would say. Have you noticed, Catherine, his frightful Yorkshire pronunciation?’ ‘Why, where the devil is the use on’t?’ growled Hareton, more ready in answering his daily companion. He was about to enlarge further, but the two youngsters broke into a noisy fit of merriment: my giddy miss being delighted to discover that she might turn his strange talk to matter of amusement. ‘Where is the use of the devil in that sentence?’ tittered Linton. ‘Papa told you not to say any bad words, and you can’t open your mouth without one. Do try to behave like a gentleman, now do!’ ‘If thou weren’t more a lass than a lad, I’d fell thee this minute, I would; pitiful lath of a crater!’ retorted the angry boor, retreating, while his face burnt with mingled rage and mortification! for he was conscious of being insulted, and embarrassed how to resent it. Mr. Heathcliff having overheard the conversation, as well as I, smiled when he saw him go; but immediately afterwards cast a look of singular aversion on the flippant pair, who remained chattering in the door-way: the boy finding animation enough while discussing Hareton’s faults and deficiencies, and relating anecdotes of his goings on; and the girl relishing his pert and spiteful sayings, without considering the ill-nature they evinced. I began to dislike, more than to compassionate Linton, and to excuse his father in some measure for holding him cheap. We stayed till afternoon: I could not tear Miss Cathy away sooner; but happily my master had not quitted his apartment, and remained ignorant of our prolonged absence. As we walked home, I would fain have enlightened my charge on the characters of the people we had quitted: but she got it into her head that I was prejudiced against them. ‘Aha!’ she cried, ‘you take papa’s side, Ellen: you are partial I know; or else you wouldn’t have cheated me so many years into the notion that Linton lived a long way from here. I’m really extremely angry; only I’m so pleased I can’t show it! But you must hold your tongue about MY uncle; he’s my uncle, remember; and I’ll scold papa for quarrelling with him.’ And so she ran on, till I relinquished the endeavour to convince her of her mistake. She did not mention the visit that night, because she did not see Mr. Linton. Next day it all came out, sadly to my chagrin; and still I was not altogether sorry: I thought the burden of directing and warning would be more efficiently borne by him than me. But he was too timid in giving satisfactory reasons for his wish that she should shun connection with the household of the Heights, and Catherine liked good reasons for every restraint that harassed her petted will. ‘Papa!’ she exclaimed, after the morning’s salutations, ‘guess whom I saw yesterday, in my walk on the moors. Ah, papa, you started! you’ve not done right, have you, now? I saw but listen, and you shall hear how I found you out; and Ellen, who is in league with you, and yet pretended to pity me so, when I kept hoping, and was always disappointed about Linton’s coming back!’ She gave a faithful account of her excursion and its consequences; and my master, though he cast more than one reproachful look at me, said nothing till she had concluded. Then he drew her to him, and asked if she knew why he had concealed Linton’s near neighbourhood from her? Could she think it was to deny her a pleasure that she might harmlessly enjoy? ‘It was because you disliked Mr. Heathcliff,’ she answered. ‘Then you believe I care more for my own feelings than yours, Cathy?’ he said. ‘No, it was not because I disliked Mr. Heathcliff, but because Mr. Heathcliff dislikes me; and is a most diabolical man, delighting to wrong and ruin those he hates, if they give him the slightest opportunity. I knew that you could not keep up an acquaintance with your cousin without being brought into contact with him; and I knew he would detest you on my account; so for your own good, and nothing else, I took precautions that you should not see Linton again. I meant to explain this some time as you grew older, and I’m sorry I delayed it.’ ‘But Mr. Heathcliff was quite cordial, papa,’ observed Catherine, not at all convinced; ‘and he didn’t object to our seeing each other: he said I might come to his house when I pleased; only I must not tell you, because you had quarrelled with him, and would not forgive him for marrying aunt Isabella. And you won’t. YOU are the one to be blamed: he is willing to let us be friends, at least; Linton and I; and you are not.’ My master, perceiving that she would not take his word for her uncle-in-law’s evil disposition, gave a hasty sketch of his conduct to Isabella, and the manner in which Wuthering Heights became his property. He could not bear to discourse long upon the topic; for though he spoke little of it, he still felt the same horror and detestation of his ancient enemy that had occupied his heart ever since Mrs. Linton’s death. ‘She might have been living yet, if it had not been for him!’ was his constant bitter reflection; and, in his eyes, Heathcliff seemed a murderer. Miss Cathy conversant with no bad deeds except her own slight acts of disobedience, injustice, and passion, arising from hot temper and thoughtlessness, and repented of on the day they were committed was amazed at the blackness of spirit that could brood on and cover revenge for years, and deliberately prosecute its plans without a visitation of remorse. She appeared so deeply impressed and shocked at this new view of human nature excluded from all her studies and all her ideas till now that Mr. Edgar deemed it unnecessary to pursue the subject. He merely added: ‘You will know hereafter, darling, why I wish you to avoid his house and family; now return to your old employments and amusements, and think no more about them.’ Catherine kissed her father, and sat down quietly to her lessons for a couple of hours, according to custom; then she accompanied him into the grounds, and the whole day passed as usual: but in the evening, when she had retired to her room, and I went to help her to undress, I found her crying, on her knees by the bedside. ‘Oh, fie, silly child!’ I exclaimed. ‘If you had any real griefs you’d be ashamed to waste a tear on this little contrariety. You never had one shadow of substantial sorrow, Miss Catherine. Suppose, for a minute, that master and I were dead, and you were by yourself in the world: how would you feel, then? Compare the present occasion with such an affliction as that, and be thankful for the friends you have, instead of coveting more.’ ‘I’m not crying for myself, Ellen,’ she answered, ‘it’s for him. He expected to see me again to-morrow, and there he’ll be so disappointed: and he’ll wait for me, and I sha’n’t come!’ ‘Nonsense!’ said I, ‘do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him? Hasn’t he Hareton for a companion? Not one in a hundred would weep at losing a relation they had just seen twice, for two afternoons. Linton will conjecture how it is, and trouble himself no further about you.’ ‘But may I not write a note to tell him why I cannot come?’ she asked, rising to her feet. ‘And just send those books I promised to lend him? His books are not as nice as mine, and he wanted to have them extremely, when I told him how interesting they were. May I not, Ellen?’ ‘No, indeed! no, indeed!’ replied I with decision. ‘Then he would write to you, and there’d never be an end of it. No, Miss Catherine, the acquaintance must be dropped entirely: so papa expects, and I shall see that it is done.’ ‘But how can one little note ?’ she recommenced, putting on an imploring countenance. ‘Silence!’ I interrupted. ‘We’ll not begin with your little notes. Get into bed.’ She threw at me a very naughty look, so naughty that I would not kiss her good-night at first: I covered her up, and shut her door, in great displeasure; but, repenting half-way, I returned softly, and lo! there was Miss standing at the table with a bit of blank paper before her and a pencil in her hand, which she guiltily slipped out of sight on my entrance. ‘You’ll get nobody to take that, Catherine,’ I said, ‘if you write it; and at present I shall put out your candle.’ I set the extinguisher on the flame, receiving as I did so a slap on my hand and a petulant ‘cross thing!’ I then quitted her again, and she drew the bolt in one of her worst, most peevish humours. The letter was finished and forwarded to its destination by a milkfetcher who came from the village; but that I didn’t learn till some time afterwards. Weeks passed on, and Cathy recovered her temper; though she grew wondrous fond of stealing off to corners by herself and often, if I came near her suddenly while reading, she would start and bend over the book, evidently desirous to hide it; and I detected edges of loose paper sticking out beyond the leaves. She also got a trick of coming down early in the morning and lingering about the kitchen, as if she were expecting the arrival of something; and she had a small drawer in a cabinet in the library, which she would trifle over for hours, and whose key she took special care to remove when she left it. One day, as she inspected this drawer, I observed that the playthings and trinkets which recently formed its contents were transmuted into bits of folded paper. My curiosity and suspicions were roused; I determined to take a peep at her mysterious treasures; so, at night, as soon as she and my master were safe upstairs, I searched, and readily found among my house keys one that would fit the lock. Having opened, I emptied the whole contents into my apron, and took them with me to examine at leisure in my own chamber. Though I could not but suspect, I was still surprised to discover that they were a mass of correspondence daily almost, it must have been from Linton Heathcliff: answers to documents forwarded by her. The earlier dated were embarrassed and short; gradually, however, they expanded into copious loveletters, foolish, as the age of the writer rendered natural, yet with touches here and there which I thought were borrowed from a more experienced source. Some of them struck me as singularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness; commencing in strong feeling, and concluding in the affected, wordy style that a schoolboy might use to a fancied, incorporeal sweetheart. Whether they satisfied Cathy I don’t know; but they appeared very worthless trash to me. After turning over as many as I thought proper, I tied them in a handkerchief and set them aside, relocking the vacant drawer. Following her habit, my young lady descended early, and visited the kitchen: I watched her go to the door, on the arrival of a certain little boy; and, while the dairymaid filled his can, she tucked something into his jacket pocket, and plucked something out. I went round by the garden, and laid wait for the messenger; who fought valorously to defend his trust, and we spilt the milk between us; but I succeeded in abstracting the epistle; and, threatening serious consequences if he did not look sharp home, I remained under the wall and perused Miss Cathy’s affectionate composition. It was more simple and more eloquent than her cousin’s: very pretty and very silly. I shook my head, and went meditating into the house. The day being wet, she could not divert herself with rambling about the park; so, at the conclusion of her morning studies, she resorted to the solace of the drawer. Her father sat reading at the table; and I, on purpose, had sought a bit of work in some unripped fringes of the window-curtain, keeping my eye steadily fixed on her proceedings. Never did any bird flying back to a plundered nest, which it had left brimful of chirping young ones, express more complete despair, in its anguished cries and flutterings, than she by her single ‘Oh!’ and the change that transfigured her late happy countenance. Mr. Linton looked up. ‘What is the matter, love? Have you hurt yourself?’ he said. His tone and look assured her HE had not been the discoverer of the hoard. ‘No, papa!’ she gasped. ‘Ellen! Ellen! come up-stairs I’m sick!’ I obeyed her summons, and accompanied her out. ‘Oh, Ellen! you have got them,’ she commenced immediately, dropping on her knees, when we were enclosed alone. ‘Oh, give them to me, and I’ll never, never do so again! Don’t tell papa. You have not told papa, Ellen? say you have not? I’ve been exceedingly naughty, but I won’t do it any more!’ With a grave severity in my manner I bade her stand up. ‘So,’ I exclaimed, ‘Miss Catherine, you are tolerably far on, it seems: you may well be ashamed of them! A fine bundle of trash you study in your leisure hours, to be sure: why, it’s good enough to be printed! And what do you suppose the master will think when I display it before him? I hav’n’t shown it yet, but you needn’t imagine I shall keep your ridiculous secrets. For shame! and you must have led the way in writing such absurdities: he would not have thought of beginning, I’m certain.’ ‘I didn’t! I didn’t!’ sobbed Cathy, fit to break her heart. ‘I didn’t once think of loving him till ‘ ‘LOVING!’ cried I, as scornfully as I could utter the word. ‘LOVING! Did anybody ever hear the like! I might just as well talk of loving the miller who comes once a year to buy our corn. Pretty loving, indeed! and both times together you have seen Linton hardly four hours in your life! Now here is the babyish trash. I’m going with it to the library; and we’ll see what your father says to such LOVING.’ She sprang at her precious epistles, but I hold them above my head; and then she poured out further frantic entreaties that I would burn them do anything rather than show them. And being really fully as much inclined to laugh as scold for I esteemed it all girlish vanity I at length relented in a measure, and asked, ‘If I consent to burn them, will you promise faithfully neither to send nor receive a letter again, nor a book (for I perceive you have sent him books), nor locks of hair, nor rings, nor playthings?’ ‘We don’t send playthings,’ cried Catherine, her pride overcoming her shame. ‘Nor anything at all, then, my lady?’ I said. ‘Unless you will, here I go.’ ‘I promise, Ellen!’ she cried, catching my dress. ‘Oh, put them in the fire, do, do!’ But when I proceeded to open a place with the poker the sacrifice was too painful to be borne. She earnestly supplicated that I would spare her one or two. ‘One or two, Ellen, to keep for Linton’s sake!’ I unknotted the handkerchief, and commenced dropping them in from an angle, and the flame curled up the chimney. ‘I will have one, you cruel wretch!’ she screamed, darting her hand into the fire, and drawing forth some half-consumed fragments, at the expense of her fingers. ‘Very well and I will have some to exhibit to papa!’ I answered, shaking back the rest into the bundle, and turning anew to the door. She emptied her blackened pieces into the flames, and motioned me to finish the immolation. It was done; I stirred up the ashes, and interred them under a shovelful of coals; and she mutely, and with a sense of intense injury, retired to her private apartment. I descended to tell my master that the young lady’s qualm of sickness was almost gone, but I judged it best for her to lie down a while. She wouldn’t dine; but she reappeared at tea, pale, and red about the eyes, and marvellously subdued in outward aspect. Next morning I answered the letter by a slip of paper, inscribed, ‘Master Heathcliff is requested to send no more notes to Miss Linton, as she will not receive them.’ And, henceforth, the little boy came with vacant pockets. Chapter XXII SUMMER drew to an end, and early autumn: it was past Michaelmas, but the harvest was late that year, and a few of our fields were still uncleared. Mr. Linton and his daughter would frequently walk out among the reapers; at the carrying of the last sheaves they stayed till dusk, and the evening happening to be chill and damp, my master caught a bad cold, that settled obstinately on his lungs, and confined him indoors throughout the whole of the winter, nearly without intermission. Poor Cathy, frightened from her little romance, had been considerably sadder and duller since its abandonment; and her father insisted on her reading less, and taking more exercise. She had his companionship no longer; I esteemed it a duty to supply its lack, as much as possible, with mine: an inefficient substitute; for I could only spare two or three hours, from my numerous diurnal occupations, to follow her footsteps, and then my society was obviously less desirable than his. On an afternoon in October, or the beginning of November a fresh watery afternoon, when the turf and paths were rustling with moist, withered leaves, and the cold blue sky was half hidden by clouds dark grey streamers, rapidly mounting from the west, and boding abundant rain I requested my young lady to forego her ramble, because I was certain of showers. She refused; and I unwillingly donned a cloak, and took my umbrella to accompany her on a stroll to the bottom of the park: a formal walk which she generally affected if low-spirited and that she invariably was when Mr. Edgar had been worse than ordinary, a thing never known from his confession, but guessed both by her and me from his increased silence and the melancholy of his countenance. She went sadly on: there was no running or bounding now, though the chill wind might well have tempted her to race. And often, from the side of my eye, I could detect her raising a hand, and brushing something off her cheek. I gazed round for a means of diverting her thoughts. On one side of the road rose a high, rough bank, where hazels and stunted oaks, with their roots half exposed, held uncertain tenure: the soil was too loose for the latter; and strong winds had blown some nearly horizontal. In summer Miss Catherine delighted to climb along these trunks, and sit in the branches, swinging twenty feet above the ground; and I, pleased with her agility and her light, childish heart, still considered it proper to scold every time I caught her at such an elevation, but so that she knew there was no necessity for descending. From dinner to tea she would lie in her breeze-rocked cradle, doing nothing except singing old songs my nursery lore to herself, or watching the birds, joint tenants, feed and entice their young ones to fly: or nestling with closed lids, half thinking, half dreaming, happier than words can express. ‘Look, Miss!’ I exclaimed, pointing to a nook under the roots of one twisted tree. ‘Winter is not here yet. There’s a little flower up yonder, the last bud from the multitude of bluebells that clouded those turf steps in July with a lilac mist. Will you clamber up, and pluck it to show to papa?’ Cathy stared a long time at the lonely blossom trembling in its earthy shelter, and replied, at length ‘No, I’ll not touch it: but it looks melancholy, does it not, Ellen?’ ‘Yes,’ I observed, ‘about as starved and suckless as you your cheeks are bloodless; let us take hold of hands and run. You’re so low, I daresay I shall keep up with you.’ ‘No,’ she repeated, and continued sauntering on, pausing at intervals to muse over a bit of moss, or a tuft of blanched grass, or a fungus spreading its bright orange among the heaps of brown foliage; and, ever and anon, her hand was lifted to her averted face. ‘Catherine, why are you crying, love?’ I asked, approaching and putting my arm over her shoulder. ‘You mustn’t cry because papa has a cold; be thankful it is nothing worse.’ She now put no further restraint on her tears; her breath was stifled by sobs. ‘Oh, it will be something worse,’ she said. ‘And what shall I do when papa and you leave me, and I am by myself? I can’t forget your words, Ellen; they are always in my ear. How life will be changed, how dreary the world will be, when papa and you are dead.’ ‘None can tell whether you won’t die before us,’ I replied. ‘It’s wrong to anticipate evil. We’ll hope there are years and years to come before any of us go: master is young, and I am strong, and hardly forty-five. My mother lived till eighty, a canty dame to the last. And suppose Mr. Linton I were spared till he saw sixty, that would be more years than you have counted, Miss. And would it not be foolish to mourn a calamity above twenty years beforehand?’ ‘But Aunt Isabella was younger than papa,’ she remarked, gazing up with timid hope to seek further consolation. ‘Aunt Isabella had not you and me to nurse her,’ I replied. ‘She wasn’t as happy as Master: she hadn’t as much to live for. All you need do, is to wait well on your father, and cheer him by letting him see you cheerful; and avoid giving him anxiety on any subject: mind that, Cathy! I’ll not disguise but you might kill him if you were wild and reckless, and cherished a foolish, fanciful affection for the son of a person who would be glad to have him in his grave; and allowed him to discover that you fretted over the separation he has judged it expedient to make.’ ‘I fret about nothing on earth except papa’s illness,’ answered my companion. ‘I care for nothing in comparison with papa. And I’ll never never oh, never, while I have my senses, do an act or say a word to vex him. I love him better than myself, Ellen; and I know it by this: I pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be: that proves I love him better than myself.’ ‘Good words,’ I replied. ‘But deeds must prove it also; and after he is well, remember you don’t forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear.’ As we talked, we neared a door that opened on the road; and my young lady, lightening into sunshine again, climbed up and seated herself on the top of the wall, reaching over to gather some hips that bloomed scarlet on the summit branches of the wild-rose trees shadowing the highway side: the lower fruit had disappeared, but only birds could touch the upper, except from Cathy’s present station. In stretching to pull them, her hat fell off; and as the door was locked, she proposed scrambling down to recover it. I bid her be cautious lest she got a fall, and she nimbly disappeared. But the return was no such easy matter: the stones were smooth and neatly cemented, and the rose-bushes and black-berry stragglers could yield no assistance in re-ascending. I, like a fool, didn’t recollect that, till I heard her laughing and exclaiming ‘Ellen! you’ll have to fetch the key, or else I must run round to the porter’s lodge. I can’t scale the ramparts on this side!’ ‘Stay where you are,’ I answered; ‘I have my bundle of keys in my pocket: perhaps I may manage to open it; if not, I’ll go.’ Catherine amused herself with dancing to and fro before the door, while I tried all the large keys in succession. I had applied the last, and found that none would do; so, repeating my desire that she would remain there, I was about to hurry home as fast as I could, when an approaching sound arrested me. It was the trot of a horse; Cathy’s dance stopped also. ‘Who is that?’ I whispered. ‘Ellen, I wish you could open the door,’ whispered back my companion, anxiously. ‘Ho, Miss Linton!’ cried a deep voice (the rider’s), ‘I’m glad to meet you. Don’t be in haste to enter, for I have an explanation to ask and obtain.’ ‘I sha’n’t speak to you, Mr. Heathcliff,’ answered Catherine. ‘Papa says you are a wicked man, and you hate both him and me; and Ellen says the same.’ ‘That is nothing to the purpose,’ said Heathcliff. (He it was.) ‘I don’t hate my son, I suppose; and it is concerning him that I demand your attention. Yes; you have cause to blush. Two or three months since, were you not in the habit of writing to Linton? making love in play, eh? You deserved, both of you, flogging for that! You especially, the elder; and less sensitive, as it turns out. I’ve got your letters, and if you give me any pertness I’ll send them to your father. I presume you grew weary of the amusement and dropped it, didn’t you? Well, you dropped Linton with it into a Slough of Despond. He was in earnest: in love, really. As true as I live, he’s dying for you; breaking his heart at your fickleness: not figuratively, but actually. Though Hareton has made him a standing jest for six weeks, and I have used more serious measures, and attempted to frighten him out of his idiotcy, he gets worse daily; and he’ll be under the sod before summer, unless you restore him!’ ‘How can you lie so glaringly to the poor child?’ I called from the inside. ‘Pray ride on! How can you deliberately get up such paltry falsehoods? Miss Cathy, I’ll knock the lock off with a stone: you won’t believe that vile nonsense. You can feel in yourself it is impossible that a person should die for love of a stranger.’ ‘I was not aware there were eavesdroppers,’ muttered the detected villain. ‘Worthy Mrs. Dean, I like you, but I don’t like your double-dealing,’ he added aloud. ‘How could YOU lie so glaringly as to affirm I hated the ‘poor child’? and invent bugbear stories to terrify her from my door-stones? Catherine Linton (the very name warms me), my bonny lass, I shall be from home all this week; go and see if have not spoken truth: do, there’s a darling! Just imagine your father in my place, and Linton in yours; then think how you would value your careless lover if he refused to stir a step to comfort you, when your father himself entreated him; and don’t, from pure stupidity, fall into the same error. I swear, on my salvation, he’s going to his grave, and none but you can save him!’ The lock gave way and I issued out. ‘I swear Linton is dying,’ repeated Heathcliff, looking hard at me. ‘And grief and disappointment are hastening his death. Nelly, if you won’t let her go, you can walk over yourself. But I shall not return till this time next week; and I think your master himself would scarcely object to her visiting her cousin.’ ‘Come in,’ said I, taking Cathy by the arm and half forcing her to re-enter; for she lingered, viewing with troubled eyes the features of the speaker, too stern to express his inward deceit. He pushed his horse close, and, bending down, observed ‘Miss Catherine, I’ll own to you that I have little patience with Linton; and Hareton and Joseph have less. I’ll own that he’s with a harsh set. He pines for kindness, as well as love; and a kind word from you would be his best medicine. Don’t mind Mrs. Dean’s cruel cautions; but be generous, and contrive to see him. He dreams of you day and night, and cannot be persuaded that you don’t hate him, since you neither write nor call.’ I closed the door, and rolled a stone to assist the loosened lock in holding it; and spreading my umbrella, I drew my charge underneath: for the rain began to drive through the moaning branches of the trees, and warned us to avoid delay. Our hurry prevented any comment on the encounter with Heathcliff, as we stretched towards home; but I divined instinctively that Catherine’s heart was clouded now in double darkness. Her features were so sad, they did not seem hers: she evidently regarded what she had heard as every syllable true. The master had retired to rest before we came in. Cathy stole to his room to inquire how he was; he had fallen asleep. She returned, and asked me to sit with her in the library. We took our tea together; and afterwards she lay down on the rug, and told me not to talk, for she was weary. I got a book, and pretended to read. As soon as she supposed me absorbed in my occupation, she recommenced her silent weeping: it appeared, at present, her favourite diversion. I suffered her to enjoy it a while; then I expostulated: deriding and ridiculing all Mr. Heathcliff’s assertions about his son, as if I were certain she would coincide. Alas! I hadn’t skill to counteract the effect his account had produced: it was just what he intended. ‘You may be right, Ellen,’ she answered; ‘but I shall never feel at ease till I know. And I must tell Linton it is not my fault that I don’t write, and convince him that I shall not change.’ What use were anger and protestations against her silly credulity? We parted that night hostile; but next day beheld me on the road to Wuthering Heights, by the side of my wilful young mistress’s pony. I couldn’t bear to witness her sorrow: to see her pale, dejected countenance, and heavy eyes: and I yielded, in the faint hope that Linton himself might prove, by his reception of us, how little of the tale was founded on fact. Chapter XXIII THE rainy night had ushered in a misty morning half frost, half drizzle and temporary brooks crossed our path gurgling from the uplands. My feet were thoroughly wetted; I was cross and low; exactly the humour suited for making the most of these disagreeable things. We entered the farm-house by the kitchen way, to ascertain whether Mr. Heathcliff were really absent: because I put slight faith in his own affirmation. Joseph seemed sitting in a sort of elysium alone, beside a roaring fire; a quart of ale on the table near him, bristling with large pieces of toasted oat-cake; and his black, short pipe in his mouth. Catherine ran to the hearth to warm herself. I asked if the master was in? My question remained so long unanswered, that I thought the old man had grown deaf, and repeated it louder. ‘Na ay!’ he snarled, or rather screamed through his nose. ‘Na ay! yah muh goa back whear yah coom frough.’ ‘Joseph!’ cried a peevish voice, simultaneously with me, from the inner room. ‘How often am I to call you? There are only a few red ashes now. Joseph! come this moment.’ Vigorous puffs, and a resolute stare into the grate, declared he had no ear for this appeal. The housekeeper and Hareton were invisible; one gone on an errand, and the other at his work, probably. We knew Linton’s tones, and entered. ‘Oh, I hope you’ll die in a garret, starved to death!’ said the boy, mistaking our approach for that of his negligent attendant. He stopped on observing his error: his cousin flew to him. ‘Is that you, Miss Linton?’ he said, raising his head from the arm of the great chair, in which he reclined. ‘No don’t kiss me: it takes my breath. Dear me! Papa said you would call,’ continued he, after recovering a little from Catherine’s embrace; while she stood by looking very contrite. ‘Will you shut the door, if you please? you left it open; and those those DETESTABLE creatures won’t bring coals to the fire. It’s so cold!’ I stirred up the cinders, and fetched a scuttleful myself. The invalid complained of being covered with ashes; but he had a tiresome cough, and looked feverish and ill, so I did not rebuke his temper. ‘Well, Linton,’ murmured Catherine, when his corrugated brow relaxed, ‘are you glad to see me? Can I do you any good?’ ‘Why didn’t you come before?’ he asked. ‘You should have come, instead of writing. It tired me dreadfully writing those long letters. I’d far rather have talked to you. Now, I can neither bear to talk, nor anything else. I wonder where Zillah is! Will you’ (looking at me) ‘step into the kitchen and see?’ I had received no thanks for my other service; and being unwilling to run to and fro at his behest, I replied ‘Nobody is out there but Joseph.’ ‘I want to drink,’ he exclaimed fretfully, turning away. ‘Zillah is constantly gadding off to Gimmerton since papa went: it’s miserable! And I’m obliged to come down here they resolved never to hear me up-stairs.’ ‘Is your father attentive to you, Master Heathcliff?’ I asked, perceiving Catherine to be checked in her friendly advances. ‘Attentive? He makes them a little more attentive at least,’ he cried. ‘The wretches! Do you know, Miss Linton, that brute Hareton laughs at me! I hate him! indeed, I hate them all: they are odious beings.’ Cathy began searching for some water; she lighted on a pitcher in the dresser, filled a tumbler, and brought it. He bid her add a spoonful of wine from a bottle on the table; and having swallowed a small portion, appeared more tranquil, and said she was very kind. ‘And are you glad to see me?’ asked she, reiterating her former question and pleased to detect the faint dawn of a smile. ‘Yes, I am. It’s something new to hear a voice like yours!’ he replied. ‘But I have been vexed, because you wouldn’t come. And papa swore it was owing to me: he called me a pitiful, shuffling, worthless thing; and said you despised me; and if he had been in my place, he would be more the master of the Grange than your father by this time. But you don’t despise me, do you, Miss ?’ ‘I wish you would say Catherine, or Cathy,’ interrupted my young lady. ‘Despise you? Next to papa and Ellen, I love you better than anybody living. I don’t love Mr. Heathcliff, though; and I dare not come when he returns: will he stay away many days?’ ‘Not many,’ answered Linton; ‘but he goes on to the moors frequently, since the shooting season commenced; and you might spend an hour or two with me in his absence. Do say you will. I think I should not be peevish with you: you’d not provoke me, and you’d always be ready to help me, wouldn’t you?’ ‘Yes’ said Catherine, stroking his long soft hair: ‘if I could only get papa’s consent, I’d spend half my time with you. Pretty Linton! I wish you were my brother.’ ‘And then you would like me as well as your father?’ observed he, more cheerfully. ‘But papa says you would love me better than him and all the world, if you were my wife; so I’d rather you were that.’ ‘No, I should never love anybody better than papa,’ she returned gravely. ‘And people hate their wives, sometimes; but not their sisters and brothers: and if you were the latter, you would live with us, and papa would be as fond of you as he is of me.’ Linton denied that people ever hated their wives; but Cathy affirmed they did, and, in her wisdom, instanced his own father’s aversion to her aunt. I endeavoured to stop her thoughtless tongue. I couldn’t succeed till everything she knew was out. Master Heathcliff, much irritated, asserted her relation was false. ‘Papa told me; and papa does not tell falsehoods,’ she answered pertly. ‘MY papa scorns yours!’ cried Linton. ‘He calls him a sneaking fool.’ ‘Yours is a wicked man,’ retorted Catherine; ‘and you are very naughty to dare to repeat what he says. He must be wicked to have made Aunt Isabella leave him as she did.’ ‘She didn’t leave him,’ said the boy; ‘you sha’n’t contradict me.’ ‘She did,’ cried my young lady. ‘Well, I’ll tell you something!’ said Linton. ‘Your mother hated your father: now then.’ ‘Oh!’ exclaimed Catherine, too enraged to continue. ‘And she loved mine,’ added he. ‘You little liar! I hate you now!’ she panted, and her face grew red with passion. ‘She did! she did!’ sang Linton, sinking into the recess of his chair, and leaning back his head to enjoy the agitation of the other disputant, who stood behind. ‘Hush, Master Heathcliff!’ I said; ‘that’s your father’s tale, too, I suppose.’ ‘It isn’t: you hold your tongue!’ he answered. ‘She did, she did, Catherine! she did, she did!’ Cathy, beside herself, gave the chair a violent push, and caused him to fall against one arm. He was immediately seized by a suffocating cough that soon ended his triumph. It lasted so long that it frightened even me. As to his cousin, she wept with all her might, aghast at the mischief she had done: though she said nothing. I held him till the fit exhausted itself. Then he thrust me away, and leant his head down silently. Catherine quelled her lamentations also, took a seat opposite, and looked solemnly into the fire. ‘How do you feel now, Master Heathcliff?’ I inquired, after waiting ten minutes. ‘I wish SHE felt as I do,’ he replied: ‘spiteful, cruel thing! Hareton never touches me: he never struck me in his life. And I was better to-day: and there ‘ his voice died in a whimper. ‘I didn’t strike you!’ muttered Cathy, chewing her lip to prevent another burst of emotion. He sighed and moaned like one under great suffering, and kept it up for a quarter of an hour; on purpose to distress his cousin apparently, for whenever he caught a stifled sob from her he put renewed pain and pathos into the inflexions of his voice. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you, Linton,’ she said at length, racked beyond endurance. ‘But I couldn’t have been hurt by that little push, and I had no idea that you could, either: you’re not much, are you, Linton? Don’t let me go home thinking I’ve done you harm. Answer! speak to me.’ ‘I can’t speak to you,’ he murmured; ‘you’ve hurt me so that I shall lie awake all night choking with this cough. If you had it you’d know what it was; but YOU’LL be comfortably asleep while I’m in agony, and nobody near me. I wonder how you would like to pass those fearful nights!’ And he began to wail aloud, for very pity of himself. ‘Since you are in the habit of passing dreadful nights,’ I said, ‘it won’t be Miss who spoils your ease: you’d be the same had she never come. However, she shall not disturb you again; and perhaps you’ll get quieter when we leave you.’ ‘Must I go?’ asked Catherine dolefully, bending over him. ‘Do you want me to go, Linton?’ ‘You can’t alter what you’ve done,’ he replied pettishly, shrinking from her, ‘unless you alter it for the worse by teasing me into a fever.’ ‘Well, then, I must go?’ she repeated. ‘Let me alone, at least,’ said he; ‘I can’t bear your talking.’ She lingered, and resisted my persuasions to departure a tiresome while; but as he neither looked up nor spoke, she finally made a movement to the door, and I followed. We were recalled by a scream. Linton had slid from his seat on to the hearthstone, and lay writhing in the mere perverseness of an indulged plague of a child, determined to be as grievous and harassing as it can. I thoroughly gauged his disposition from his behaviour, and saw at once it would be folly to attempt humouring him. Not so my companion: she ran back in terror, knelt down, and cried, and soothed, and entreated, till he grew quiet from lack of breath: by no means from compunction at distressing her. ‘I shall lift him on to the settle,’ I said, ‘and he may roll about as he pleases: we can’t stop to watch him. I hope you are satisfied, Miss Cathy, that you are not the person to benefit him; and that his condition of health is not occasioned by attachment to you. Now, then, there he is! Come away: as soon as he knows there is nobody by to care for his nonsense, he’ll be glad to lie still.’ She placed a cushion under his head, and offered him some water; he rejected the latter, and tossed uneasily on the former, as if it were a stone or a block of wood. She tried to put it more comfortably. ‘I can’t do with that,’ he said; ‘it’s not high enough.’ Catherine brought another to lay above it. ‘That’s too high,’ murmured the provoking thing. ‘How must I arrange it, then?’ she asked despairingly. He twined himself up to her, as she half knelt by the settle, and converted her shoulder into a support. ‘No, that won’t do,’ I said. ‘You’ll be content with the cushion, Master Heathcliff. Miss has wasted too much time on you already: we cannot remain five minutes longer.’ ‘Yes, yes, we can!’ replied Cathy. ‘He’s good and patient now. He’s beginning to think I shall have far greater misery than he will to-night, if I believe he is the worse for my visit: and then I dare not come again. Tell the truth about it, Linton; for I musn’t come, if I have hurt you.’ ‘You must come, to cure me,’ he answered. ‘You ought to come, because you have hurt me: you know you have extremely! I was not as ill when you entered as I am at present was I?’ ‘But you’ve made yourself ill by crying and being in a passion. I didn’t do it all,’ said his cousin. ‘However, we’ll be friends now. And you want me: you would wish to see me sometimes, really?’ ‘I told you I did,’ he replied impatiently. ‘Sit on the settle and let me lean on your knee. That’s as mamma used to do, whole afternoons together. Sit quite still and don’t talk: but you may sing a song, if you can sing; or you may say a nice long interesting ballad one of those you promised to teach me; or a story. I’d rather have a ballad, though: begin.’ Catherine repeated the longest she could remember. The employment pleased both mightily. Linton would have another, and after that another, notwithstanding my strenuous objections; and so they went on until the clock struck twelve, and we heard Hareton in the court, returning for his dinner. ‘And to-morrow, Catherine, will you be here to-morrow?’ asked young Heathcliff, holding her frock as she rose reluctantly. ‘No,’ I answered, ‘nor next day neither.’ She, however, gave a different response evidently, for his forehead cleared as she stooped and whispered in his ear. ‘You won’t go to-morrow, recollect, Miss!’ I commenced, when we were out of the house. ‘You are not dreaming of it, are you?’ She smiled. ‘Oh, I’ll take good care,’ I continued: ‘I’ll have that lock mended, and you can escape by no way else.’ ‘I can get over the wall,’ she said laughing. ‘The Grange is not a prison, Ellen, and you are not my gaoler. And besides, I’m almost seventeen: I’m a woman. And I’m certain Linton would recover quickly if he had me to look after him. I’m older than he is, you know, and wiser: less childish, am I not? And he’ll soon do as I direct him, with some slight coaxing. He’s a pretty little darling when he’s good. I’d make such a pet of him, if he were mine. We should, never quarrel, should we after we were used to each other? Don’t you like him, Ellen?’ ‘Like him!’ I exclaimed. ‘The worst-tempered bit of a sickly slip that ever struggled into its teens. Happily, as Mr. Heathcliff conjectured, he’ll not win twenty. I doubt whether he’ll see spring, indeed. And small loss to his family whenever he drops off. And lucky it is for us that his father took him: the kinder he was treated, the more tedious and selfish he’d be. I’m glad you have no chance of having him for a husband, Miss Catherine.’ My companion waxed serious at hearing this speech. To speak of his death so regardlessly wounded her feelings. ‘He’s younger than I,’ she answered, after a protracted pause of meditation, ‘and he ought to live the longest: he will he must live as long as I do. He’s as strong now as when he first came into the north; I’m positive of that. It’s only a cold that ails him, the same as papa has. You say papa will get better, and why shouldn’t he?’ ‘Well, well,’ I cried, ‘after all, we needn’t trouble ourselves; for listen, Miss, and mind, I’ll keep my word, if you attempt going to Wuthering Heights again, with or without me, I shall inform Mr. Linton, and, unless he allow it, the intimacy with your cousin must not be revived.’ ‘It has been revived,’ muttered Cathy, sulkily. ‘Must not be continued, then,’ I said. ‘We’ll see,’ was her reply, and she set off at a gallop, leaving me to toil in the rear. We both reached home before our dinner-time; my master supposed we had been wandering through the park, and therefore he demanded no explanation of our absence. As soon as I entered I hastened to change my soaked shoes and stockings; but sitting such awhile at the Heights had done the mischief. On the succeeding morning I was laid up, and during three weeks I remained incapacitated for attending to my duties: a calamity never experienced prior to that period, and never, I am thankful to say, since. My little mistress behaved like an angel in coming to wait on me, and cheer my solitude; the confinement brought me exceedingly low. It is wearisome, to a stirring active body: but few have slighter reasons for complaint than I had. The moment Catherine left Mr. Linton’s room she appeared at my bedside. Her day was divided between us; no amusement usurped a minute: she neglected her meals, her studies, and her play; and she was the fondest nurse that ever watched. She must have had a warm heart, when she loved her father so, to give so much to me. I said her days were divided between us; but the master retired early, and I generally needed nothing after six o’clock, thus the evening was her own. Poor thing! I never considered what she did with herself after tea. And though frequently, when she looked in to bid me good-night, I remarked a fresh colour in her cheeks and a pinkness over her slender fingers, instead of fancying the line borrowed from a cold ride across the moors, I laid it to the charge of a hot fire in the library. Chapter XXIV AT the close of three weeks I was able to quit my chamber and move about the house. And on the first occasion of my sitting up in the evening I asked Catherine to read to me, because my eyes were weak. We were in the library, the master having gone to bed: she consented, rather unwillingly, I fancied; and imagining my sort of books did not suit her, I bid her please herself in the choice of what she perused. She selected one of her own favourites, and got forward steadily about an hour; then came frequent questions. ‘Ellen, are not you tired? Hadn’t you better lie down now? You’ll be sick, keeping up so long, Ellen.’ ‘No, no, dear, I’m not tired,’ I returned, continually. Perceiving me immovable, she essayed another method of showing her disrelish for her occupation. It changed to yawning, and stretching, and - ‘Ellen, I’m tired.’ ‘Give over then and talk,’ I answered. That was worse: she fretted and sighed, and looked at her watch till eight, and finally went to her room, completely overdone with sleep; judging by her peevish, heavy look, and the constant rubbing she inflicted on her eyes. The following night she seemed more impatient still; and on the third from recovering my company she complained of a headache, and left me. I thought her conduct odd; and having remained alone a long while, I resolved on going and inquiring whether she were better, and asking her to come and lie on the sofa, instead of up-stairs in the dark. No Catherine could I discover up-stairs, and none below. The servants affirmed they had not seen her. I listened at Mr. Edgar’s door; all was silence. I returned to her apartment, extinguished my candle, and seated myself in the window. The moon shone bright; a sprinkling of snow covered the ground, and I reflected that she might, possibly, have taken it into her head to walk about the garden, for refreshment. I did detect a figure creeping along the inner fence of the park; but it was not my young mistress: on its emerging into the light, I recognised one of the grooms. He stood a considerable period, viewing the carriage-road through the grounds; then started off at a brisk pace, as if he had detected something, and reappeared presently, leading Miss’s pony; and there she was, just dismounted, and walking by its side. The man took his charge stealthily across the grass towards the stable. Cathy entered by the casement-window of the drawing-room, and glided noiselessly up to where I awaited her. She put the door gently too, slipped off her snowy shoes, untied her hat, and was proceeding, unconscious of my espionage, to lay aside her mantle, when I suddenly rose and revealed myself. The surprise petrified her an instant: she uttered an inarticulate exclamation, and stood fixed. ‘My dear Miss Catherine,’ I began, too vividly impressed by her recent kindness to break into a scold, ‘where have you been riding out at this hour? And why should you try to deceive me by telling a tale? Where have you been? Speak!’ ‘To the bottom of the park,’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t tell a tale.’ ‘And nowhere else?’ I demanded. ‘No,’ was the muttered reply. ‘Oh, Catherine!’ I cried, sorrowfully. ‘You know you have been doing wrong, or you wouldn’t be driven to uttering an untruth to me. That does grieve me. I’d rather be three months ill, than hear you frame a deliberate lie.’ She sprang forward, and bursting into tears, threw her arms round my neck. ‘Well, Ellen, I’m so afraid of you being angry,’ she said. ‘Promise not to be angry, and you shall know the very truth: I hate to hide it.’ We sat down in the window-seat; I assured her I would not scold, whatever her secret might be, and I guessed it, of course; so she commenced - ‘I’ve been to Wuthering Heights, Ellen, and I’ve never missed going a day since you fell ill; except thrice before, and twice after you left your room. I gave Michael books and pictures to prepare Minny every evening, and to put her back in the stable: you mustn’t scold him either, mind. I was at the Heights by half-past six, and generally stayed till half-past eight, and then galloped home. It was not to amuse myself that I went: I was often wretched all the time. Now and then I was happy: once in a week perhaps. At first, I expected there would be sad work persuading you to let me keep my word to Linton: for I had engaged to call again next day, when we quitted him; but, as you stayed up-stairs on the morrow, I escaped that trouble. While Michael was refastening the lock of the park door in the afternoon, I got possession of the key, and told him how my cousin wished me to visit him, because he was sick, and couldn’t come to the Grange; and how papa would object to my going: and then I negotiated with him about the pony. He is fond of reading, and he thinks of leaving soon to get married; so he offered, if I would lend him books out of the library, to do what I wished: but I preferred giving him my own, and that satisfied him better. ‘On my second visit Linton seemed in lively spirits; and Zillah (that is their housekeeper) made us a clean room and a good fire, and told us that, as Joseph was out at a prayer-meeting and Hareton Earnshaw was off with his dogs robbing our woods of pheasants, as I heard afterwards we might do what we liked. She brought me some warm wine and gingerbread, and appeared exceedingly goodnatured, and Linton sat in the arm-chair, and I in the little rocking chair on the hearth-stone, and we laughed and talked so merrily, and found so much to say: we planned where we would go, and what we would do in summer. I needn’t repeat that, because you would call it silly. ‘One time, however, we were near quarrelling. He said the pleasantest manner of spending a hot July day was lying from morning till evening on a bank of heath in the middle of the moors, with the bees humming dreamily about among the bloom, and the larks singing high up overhead, and the blue sky and bright sun shining steadily and cloudlessly. That was his most perfect idea of heaven’s happiness: mine was rocking in a rustling green tree, with a west wind blowing, and bright white clouds flitting rapidly above; and not only larks, but throstles, and blackbirds, and linnets, and cuckoos pouring out music on every side, and the moors seen at a distance, broken into cool dusky dells; but close by great swells of long grass undulating in waves to the breeze; and woods and sounding water, and the whole world awake and wild with joy. He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle and dance in a glorious jubilee. I said his heaven would be only half alive; and he said mine would be drunk: I said I should fall asleep in his; and he said he could not breathe in mine, and began to grow very snappish. At last, we agreed to try both, as soon as the right weather came; and then we kissed each other and were friends. ‘After sitting still an hour, I looked at the great room with its smooth uncarpeted floor, and thought how nice it would be to play in, if we removed the table; and I asked Linton to call Zillah in to help us, and we’d have a game at blindman’s-buff; she should try to catch us: you used to, you know, Ellen. He wouldn’t: there was no pleasure in it, he said; but he consented to play at ball with me. We found two in a cupboard, among a heap of old toys, tops, and hoops, and battledores and shuttlecocks. One was marked C., and the other H.; I wished to have the C., because that stood for Catherine, and the H. might be for Heathcliff, his name; but the bran came out of H., and Linton didn’t like it. I beat him constantly: and he got cross again, and coughed, and returned to his chair. That night, though, he easily recovered his good humour: he was charmed with two or three pretty songs YOUR songs, Ellen; and when I was obliged to go, he begged and entreated me to come the following evening; and I promised. Minny and I went flying home as light as air; and I dreamt of Wuthering Heights and my sweet, darling cousin, till morning. ‘On the morrow I was sad; partly because you were poorly, and partly that I wished my father knew, and approved of my excursions: but it was beautiful moonlight after tea; and, as I rode on, the gloom cleared. I shall have another happy evening, I thought to myself; and what delights me more, my pretty Linton will. I trotted up their garden, and was turning round to the back, when that fellow Earnshaw met me, took my bridle, and bid me go in by the front entrance. He patted Minny’s neck, and said she was a bonny beast, and appeared as if he wanted me to speak to him. I only told him to leave my horse alone, or else it would kick him. He answered in his vulgar accent, ‘It wouldn’t do mitch hurt if it did;’ and surveyed its legs with a smile. I was half inclined to make it try; however, he moved off to open the door, and, as he raised the latch, he looked up to the inscription above, and said, with a stupid mixture of awkwardness and elation: ‘Miss Catherine! I can read yon, now.’ ‘’Wonderful,’ I exclaimed. ‘Pray let us hear you you ARE grown clever!’ ‘He spelt, and drawled over by syllables, the name ‘Hareton Earnshaw.’ ‘’And the figures?’ I cried, encouragingly, perceiving that he came to a dead halt. ‘’I cannot tell them yet,’ he answered. ‘’Oh, you dunce!’ I said, laughing heartily at his failure. ‘The fool stared, with a grin hovering about his lips, and a scowl gathering over his eyes, as if uncertain whether he might not join in my mirth: whether it were not pleasant familiarity, or what it really was, contempt. I settled his doubts, by suddenly retrieving my gravity and desiring him to walk away, for I came to see Linton, not him. He reddened I saw that by the moonlight dropped his hand from the latch, and skulked off, a picture of mortified vanity. He imagined himself to be as accomplished as Linton, I suppose, because he could spell his own name; and was marvellously discomfited that I didn’t think the same.’ ‘Stop, Miss Catherine, dear!’ I interrupted. ‘I shall not scold, but I don’t like your conduct there. If you had remembered that Hareton was your cousin as much as Master Heathcliff, you would have felt how improper it was to behave in that way. At least, it was praiseworthy ambition for him to desire to be as accomplished as Linton; and probably he did not learn merely to show off: you had made him ashamed of his ignorance before, I have no doubt; and he wished to remedy it and please you. To sneer at his imperfect attempt was very bad breeding. Had you been brought up in his circumstances, would you be less rude? He was as quick and as intelligent a child as ever you were; and I’m hurt that he should be despised now, because that base Heathcliff has treated him so unjustly.’ ‘Well, Ellen, you won’t cry about it, will you?’ she exclaimed, surprised at my earnestness. ‘But wait, and you shall hear if he conned his A B C to please me; and if it were worth while being civil to the brute. I entered; Linton was lying on the settle, and half got up to welcome me. ‘’I’m ill to-night, Catherine, love,’ he said; ‘and you must have all the talk, and let me listen. Come, and sit by me. I was sure you wouldn’t break your word, and I’ll make you promise again, before you go.’ ‘I knew now that I mustn’t tease him, as he was ill; and I spoke softly and put no questions, and avoided irritating him in any way. I had brought some of my nicest books for him: he asked me to read a little of one, and I was about to comply, when Earnshaw burst the door open: having gathered venom with reflection. He advanced direct to us, seized Linton by the arm, and swung him off the seat. ‘’Get to thy own room!’ he said, in a voice almost inarticulate with passion; and his face looked swelled and furious. ‘Take her there if she comes to see thee: thou shalln’t keep me out of this. Begone wi’ ye both!’ ‘He swore at us, and left Linton no time to answer, nearly throwing him into the kitchen; and he clenched his fist as I followed, seemingly longing to knock me down. I was afraid for a moment, and I let one volume fall; he kicked it after me, and shut us out. I heard a malignant, crackly laugh by the fire, and turning, beheld that odious Joseph standing rubbing his bony hands, and quivering. ‘’I wer sure he’d sarve ye out! He’s a grand lad! He’s getten t’ raight sperrit in him! HE knaws ay, he knaws, as weel as I do, who sud be t’ maister yonder Ech, ech, ech! He made ye skift properly! Ech, ech, ech!’ ‘’Where must we go?’ I asked of my cousin, disregarding the old wretch’s mockery. ‘Linton was white and trembling. He was not pretty then, Ellen: oh, no! he looked frightful; for his thin face and large eyes were wrought into an expression of frantic, powerless fury. He grasped the handle of the door, and shook it: it was fastened inside. ‘’If you don’t let me in, I’ll kill you! If you don’t let me in, I’ll kill you!’ he rather shrieked than said. ‘Devil! devil! I’ll kill you I’ll kill you!’ Joseph uttered his croaking laugh again. ‘’Thear, that’s t’ father!’ he cried. ‘That’s father! We’ve allas summut o’ either side in us. Niver heed, Hareton, lad dunnut be ‘feard he cannot get at thee!’ ‘I took hold of Linton’s hands, and tried to pull him away; but he shrieked so shockingly that I dared not proceed. At last his cries were choked by a dreadful fit of coughing; blood gushed from his mouth, and he fell on the ground. I ran into the yard, sick with terror; and called for Zillah, as loud as I could. She soon heard me: she was milking the cows in a shed behind the barn, and hurrying from her work, she inquired what there was to do? I hadn’t breath to explain; dragging her in, I looked about for Linton. Earnshaw had come out to examine the mischief he had caused, and he was then conveying the poor thing up-stairs. Zillah and I ascended after him; but he stopped me at the top of the steps, and said I shouldn’t go in: I must go home. I exclaimed that he had killed Linton, and I WOULD enter. Joseph locked the door, and declared I should do ‘no sich stuff,’ and asked me whether I were ‘bahn to be as mad as him.’ I stood crying till the housekeeper reappeared. She affirmed he would be better in a bit, but he couldn’t do with that shrieking and din; and she took me, and nearly carried me into the house. ‘Ellen, I was ready to tear my hair off my head! I sobbed and wept so that my eyes were almost blind; and the ruffian you have such sympathy with stood opposite: presuming every now and then to bid me ‘wisht,’ and denying that it was his fault; and, finally, frightened by my assertions that I would tell papa, and that he should be put in prison and hanged, he commenced blubbering himself, and hurried out to hide his cowardly agitation. Still, I was not rid of him: when at length they compelled me to depart, and I had got some hundred yards off the premises, he suddenly issued from the shadow of the road-side, and checked Minny and took hold of me. ‘’Miss Catherine, I’m ill grieved,’ he began, ‘but it’s rayther too bad ‘ ‘I gave him a cut with my whip, thinking perhaps he would murder me. He let go, thundering one of his horrid curses, and I galloped home more than half out of my senses. ‘I didn’t bid you good-night that evening, and I didn’t go to Wuthering Heights the next: I wished to go exceedingly; but I was strangely excited, and dreaded to hear that Linton was dead, sometimes; and sometimes shuddered at the thought of encountering Hareton. On the third day I took courage: at least, I couldn’t bear longer suspense, and stole off once more. I went at five o’clock, and walked; fancying I might manage to creep into the house, and up to Linton’s room, unobserved. However, the dogs gave notice of my approach. Zillah received me, and saying ‘the lad was mending nicely,’ showed me into a small, tidy, carpeted apartment, where, to my inexpressible joy, I beheld Linton laid on a little sofa, reading one of my books. But he would neither speak to me nor look at me, through a whole hour, Ellen: he has such an unhappy temper. And what quite confounded me, when he did open his mouth, it was to utter the falsehood that I had occasioned the uproar, and Hareton was not to blame! Unable to reply, except passionately, I got up and walked from the room. He sent after me a faint ‘Catherine!’ He did not reckon on being answered so: but I wouldn’t turn back; and the morrow was the second day on which I stayed at home, nearly determined to visit him no more. But it was so miserable going to bed and getting up, and never hearing anything about him, that my resolution melted into air before it was properly formed. It had appeared wrong to take the journey once; now it seemed wrong to refrain. Michael came to ask if he must saddle Minny; I said ‘Yes,’ and considered myself doing a duty as she bore me over the hills. I was forced to pass the front windows to get to the court: it was no use trying to conceal my presence. ‘’Young master is in the house,’ said Zillah, as she saw me making for the parlour. I went in; Earnshaw was there also, but he quitted the room directly. Linton sat in the great arm-chair half asleep; walking up to the fire, I began in a serious tone, partly meaning it to be true - ‘’As you don’t like me, Linton, and as you think I come on purpose to hurt you, and pretend that I do so every time, this is our last meeting: let us say good-bye; and tell Mr. Heathcliff that you have no wish to see me, and that he mustn’t invent any more falsehoods on the subject.’ ‘’Sit down and take your hat off, Catherine,’ he answered. ‘You are so much happier than I am, you ought to be better. Papa talks enough of my defects, and shows enough scorn of me, to make it natural I should doubt myself. I doubt whether I am not altogether as worthless as he calls me, frequently; and then I feel so cross and bitter, I hate everybody! I am worthless, and bad in temper, and bad in spirit, almost always; and, if you choose, you may say good-bye: you’ll get rid of an annoyance. Only, Catherine, do me this justice: believe that if I might be as sweet, and as kind, and as good as you are, I would be; as willingly, and more so, than as happy and as healthy. And believe that your kindness has made me love you deeper than if I deserved your love: and though I couldn’t, and cannot help showing my nature to you, I regret it and repent it; and shall regret and repent it till I die!’ ‘I felt he spoke the truth; and I felt I must forgive him: and, though we should quarrel the next moment, I must forgive him again. We were reconciled; but we cried, both of us, the whole time I stayed: not entirely for sorrow; yet I WAS sorry Linton had that distorted nature. He’ll never let his friends be at ease, and he’ll never be at ease himself! I have always gone to his little parlour, since that night; because his father returned the day after. ‘About three times, I think, we have been merry and hopeful, as we were the first evening; the rest of my visits were dreary and troubled: now with his selfishness and spite, and now with his sufferings: but I’ve learned to endure the former with nearly as little resentment as the latter. Mr. Heathcliff purposely avoids me: I have hardly seen him at all. Last Sunday, indeed, coming earlier than usual, I heard him abusing poor Linton cruelly for his conduct of the night before. I can’t tell how he knew of it, unless he listened. Linton had certainly behaved provokingly: however, it was the business of nobody but me, and I interrupted Mr. Heathcliff’s lecture by entering and telling him so. He burst into a laugh, and went away, saying he was glad I took that view of the matter. Since then, I’ve told Linton he must whisper his bitter things. Now, Ellen, you have heard all. I can’t be prevented from going to Wuthering Heights, except by inflicting misery on two people; whereas, if you’ll only not tell papa, my going need disturb the tranquillity of none. You’ll not tell, will you? It will be very heartless, if you do.’ ‘I’ll make up my mind on that point by to-morrow, Miss Catherine,’ I replied. ‘It requires some study; and so I’ll leave you to your rest, and go think it over.’ I thought it over aloud, in my master’s presence; walking straight from her room to his, and relating the whole story: with the exception of her conversations with her cousin, and any mention of Hareton. Mr. Linton was alarmed and distressed, more than he would acknowledge to me. In the morning, Catherine learnt my betrayal of her confidence, and she learnt also that her secret visits were to end. In vain she wept and writhed against the interdict, and implored her father to have pity on Linton: all she got to comfort her was a promise that he would write and give him leave to come to the Grange when he pleased; but explaining that he must no longer expect to see Catherine at Wuthering Heights. Perhaps, had he been aware of his nephew’s disposition and state of health, he would have seen fit to withhold even that slight consolation. Chapter XXV ‘THESE things happened last winter, sir,’ said Mrs. Dean; ‘hardly more than a year ago. Last winter, I did not think, at another twelve months’ end, I should be amusing a stranger to the family with relating them! Yet, who knows how long you’ll be a stranger? You’re too young to rest always contented, living by yourself; and I some way fancy no one could see Catherine Linton and not love her. You smile; but why do you look so lively and interested when I talk about her? and why have you asked me to hang her picture over your fireplace? and why ?’ ‘Stop, my good friend!’ I cried. ‘It may be very possible that I should love her; but would she love me? I doubt it too much to venture my tranquillity by running into temptation: and then my home is not here. I’m of the busy world, and to its arms I must return. Go on. Was Catherine obedient to her father’s commands?’ ‘She was,’ continued the housekeeper. ‘Her affection for him was still the chief sentiment in her heart; and he spoke without anger: he spoke in the deep tenderness of one about to leave his treasure amid perils and foes, where his remembered words would be the only aid that he could bequeath to guide her. He said to me, a few days afterwards, ‘I wish my nephew would write, Ellen, or call. Tell me, sincerely, what you think of him: is he changed for the better, or is there a prospect of improvement, as he grows a man?’ ‘’He’s very delicate, sir,’ I replied; ‘and scarcely likely to reach manhood: but this I can say, he does not resemble his father; and if Miss Catherine had the misfortune to marry him, he would not be beyond her control: unless she were extremely and foolishly indulgent. However, master, you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted with him and see whether he would suit her: it wants four years and more to his being of age.‘‘ Edgar sighed; and, walking to the window, looked out towards Gimmerton Kirk. It was a misty afternoon, but the February sun shone dimly, and we could just distinguish the two fir-trees in the yard, and the sparely-scattered gravestones. ‘I’ve prayed often,’ he half soliloquised, ‘for the approach of what is coming; and now I begin to shrink, and fear it. I thought the memory of the hour I came down that glen a bridegroom would be less sweet than the anticipation that I was soon, in a few months, or, possibly, weeks, to be carried up, and laid in its lonely hollow! Ellen, I’ve been very happy with my little Cathy: through winter nights and summer days she was a living hope at my side. But I’ve been as happy musing by myself among those stones, under that old church: lying, through the long June evenings, on the green mound of her mother’s grave, and wishing yearning for the time when I might lie beneath it. What can I do for Cathy? How must I quit her? I’d not care one moment for Linton being Heathcliff’s son; nor for his taking her from me, if he could console her for my loss. I’d not care that Heathcliff gained his ends, and triumphed in robbing me of my last blessing! But should Linton be unworthy only a feeble tool to his father I cannot abandon her to him! And, hard though it be to crush her buoyant spirit, I must persevere in making her sad while I live, and leaving her solitary when I die. Darling! I’d rather resign her to God, and lay her in the earth before me.’ ‘Resign her to God as it is, sir,’ I answered, ‘and if we should lose you which may He forbid under His providence, I’ll stand her friend and counsellor to the last. Miss Catherine is a good girl: I don’t fear that she will go wilfully wrong; and people who do their duty are always finally rewarded.’ Spring advanced; yet my master gathered no real strength, though he resumed his walks in the grounds with his daughter. To her inexperienced notions, this itself was a sign of convalescence; and then his cheek was often flushed, and his eyes were bright; she felt sure of his recovering. On her seventeenth birthday, he did not visit the churchyard: it was raining, and I observed ‘You’ll surely not go out to-night, sir?’ He answered, ‘No, I’ll defer it this year a little longer.’ He wrote again to Linton, expressing his great desire to see him; and, had the invalid been presentable, I’ve no doubt his father would have permitted him to come. As it was, being instructed, he returned an answer, intimating that Mr. Heathcliff objected to his calling at the Grange; but his uncle’s kind remembrance delighted him, and he hoped to meet him sometimes in his rambles, and personally to petition that his cousin and he might not remain long so utterly divided. That part of his letter was simple, and probably his own. Heathcliff knew he could plead eloquently for Catherine’s company, then. ‘I do not ask,’ he said, ‘that she may visit here; but am I never to see her, because my father forbids me to go to her home, and you forbid her to come to mine? Do, now and then, ride with her towards the Heights; and let us exchange a few words, in your presence! We have done nothing to deserve this separation; and you are not angry with me: you have no reason to dislike me, you allow, yourself. Dear uncle! send me a kind note to-morrow, and leave to join you anywhere you please, except at Thrushcross Grange. I believe an interview would convince you that my father’s character is not mine: he affirms I am more your nephew than his son; and though I have faults which render me unworthy of Catherine, she has excused them, and for her sake, you should also. You inquire after my health it is better; but while I remain cut off from all hope, and doomed to solitude, or the society of those who never did and never will like me, how can I be cheerful and well?’ Edgar, though he felt for the boy, could not consent to grant his request; because he could not accompany Catherine. He said, in summer, perhaps, they might meet: meantime, he wished him to continue writing at intervals, and engaged to give him what advice and comfort he was able by letter; being well aware of his hard position in his family. Linton complied; and had he been unrestrained, would probably have spoiled all by filling his epistles with complaints and lamentations. but his father kept a sharp watch over him; and, of course, insisted on every line that my master sent being shown; so, instead of penning his peculiar personal sufferings and distresses, the themes constantly uppermost in his thoughts, he harped on the cruel obligation of being held asunder from his friend and love; and gently intimated that Mr. Linton must allow an interview soon, or he should fear he was purposely deceiving him with empty promises. Cathy was a powerful ally at home; and between them they at length persuaded my master to acquiesce in their having a ride or a walk together about once a week, under my guardianship, and on the moors nearest the Grange: for June found him still declining. Though he had set aside yearly a portion of his income for my young lady’s fortune, he had a natural desire that she might retain or at least return in a short time to the house of her ancestors; and he considered her only prospect of doing that was by a union with his heir; he had no idea that the latter was failing almost as fast as himself; nor had any one, I believe: no doctor visited the Heights, and no one saw Master Heathcliff to make report of his condition among us. I, for my part, began to fancy my forebodings were false, and that he must be actually rallying, when he mentioned riding and walking on the moors, and seemed so earnest in pursuing his object. I could not picture a father treating a dying child as tyrannically and wickedly as I afterwards learned Heathcliff had treated him, to compel this apparent eagerness: his efforts redoubling the more imminently his avaricious and unfeeling plans were threatened with defeat by death. Chapter XXVI SUMMER was already past its prime, when Edgar reluctantly yielded his assent to their entreaties, and Catherine and I set out on our first ride to join her cousin. It was a close, sultry day: devoid of sunshine, but with a sky too dappled and hazy to threaten rain: and our place of meeting had been fixed at the guide-stone, by the cross-roads. On arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, despatched as a messenger, told us that, ‘Maister Linton wer just o’ this side th’ Heights: and he’d be mitch obleeged to us to gang on a bit further.’ ‘Then Master Linton has forgot the first injunction of his uncle,’ I observed: ‘he bid us keep on the Grange land, and here we are off at once.’ ‘Well, we’ll turn our horses’ heads round when we reach him,’ answered my companion; ‘our excursion shall lie towards home.’ But when we reached him, and that was scarcely a quarter of a mile from his own door, we found he had no horse; and we were forced to dismount, and leave ours to graze. He lay on the heath, awaiting our approach, and did not rise till we came within a few yards. Then he walked so feebly, and looked so pale, that I immediately exclaimed, ‘Why, Master Heathcliff, you are not fit for enjoying a ramble this morning. How ill you do look!’ Catherine surveyed him with grief and astonishment: she changed the ejaculation of joy on her lips to one of alarm; and the congratulation on their long-postponed meeting to an anxious inquiry, whether he were worse than usual? ‘No better better!’ he panted, trembling, and retaining her hand as if he needed its support, while his large blue eyes wandered timidly over her; the hollowness round them transforming to haggard wildness the languid expression they once possessed. ‘But you have been worse,’ persisted his cousin; ‘worse than when I saw you last; you are thinner, and ‘ ‘I’m tired,’ he interrupted, hurriedly. ‘It is too hot for walking, let us rest here. And, in the morning, I often feel sick papa says I grow so fast.’ Badly satisfied, Cathy sat down, and he reclined beside her. ‘This is something like your paradise,’ said she, making an effort at cheerfulness. ‘You recollect the two days we agreed to spend in the place and way each thought pleasantest? This is nearly yours, only there are clouds; but then they are so soft and mellow: it is nicer than sunshine. Next week, if you can, we’ll ride down to the Grange Park, and try mine.’ Linton did not appear to remember what she talked of and he had evidently great difficulty in sustaining any kind of conversation. His lack of interest in the subjects she started, and his equal incapacity to contribute to her entertainment, were so obvious that she could not conceal her disappointment. An indefinite alteration had come over his whole person and manner. The pettishness that might be caressed into fondness, had yielded to a listless apathy; there was less of the peevish temper of a child which frets and teases on purpose to be soothed, and more of the self-absorbed moroseness of a confirmed invalid, repelling consolation, and ready to regard the good-humoured mirth of others as an insult. Catherine perceived, as well as I did, that he held it rather a punishment, than a gratification, to endure our company; and she made no scruple of proposing, presently, to depart. That proposal, unexpectedly, roused Linton from his lethargy, and threw him into a strange state of agitation. He glanced fearfully towards the Heights, begging she would remain another half-hour, at least. ‘But I think,’ said Cathy, ‘you’d be more comfortable at home than sitting here; and I cannot amuse you to-day, I see, by my tales, and songs, and chatter: you have grown wiser than I, in these six months; you have little taste for my diversions now: or else, if I could amuse you, I’d willingly stay.’ ‘Stay to rest yourself,’ he replied. ‘And, Catherine, don’t think or say that I’m VERY unwell: it is the heavy weather and heat that make me dull; and I walked about, before you came, a great deal for me. Tell uncle I’m in tolerable health, will you?’ ‘I’ll tell him that YOU say so, Linton. I couldn’t affirm that you are,’ observed my young lady, wondering at his pertinacious assertion of what was evidently an untruth. ‘And be here again next Thursday,’ continued he, shunning her puzzled gaze. ‘And give him my thanks for permitting you to come my best thanks, Catherine. And and, if you DID meet my father, and he asked you about me, don’t lead him to suppose that I’ve been extremely silent and stupid: don’t look sad and downcast, as you are doing he’ll be angry.’ ‘I care nothing for his anger,’ exclaimed Cathy, imagining she would be its object. ‘But I do,’ said her cousin, shuddering. ‘DON’T provoke him against me, Catherine, for he is very hard.’ ‘Is he severe to you, Master Heathcliff?’ I inquired. ‘Has he grown weary of indulgence, and passed from passive to active hatred?’ Linton looked at me, but did not answer; and, after keeping her seat by his side another ten minutes, during which his head fell drowsily on his breast, and he uttered nothing except suppressed moans of exhaustion or pain, Cathy began to seek solace in looking for bilberries, and sharing the produce of her researches with me: she did not offer them to him, for she saw further notice would only weary and annoy. ‘Is it half-an-hour now, Ellen?’ she whispered in my ear, at last. ‘I can’t tell why we should stay. He’s asleep, and papa will be wanting us back.’ ‘Well, we must not leave him asleep,’ I answered; ‘wait till lie wakes, and be patient. You were mighty eager to set off, but your longing to see poor Linton has soon evaporated!’ ‘Why did HE wish to see me?’ returned Catherine. ‘In his crossest humours, formerly, I liked him better than I do in his present curious mood. It’s just as if it were a task he was compelled to perform this interview for fear his father should scold him. But I’m hardly going to come to give Mr. Heathcliff pleasure; whatever reason he may have for ordering Linton to undergo this penance. And, though I’m glad he’s better in health, I’m sorry he’s so much less pleasant, and so much less affectionate to me.’ ‘You think HE IS better in health, then?’ I said. ‘Yes,’ she answered; ‘because he always made such a great deal of his sufferings, you know. He is not tolerably well, as he told me to tell papa; but he’s better, very likely.’ ‘There you differ with me, Miss Cathy,’ I remarked; ‘I should conjecture him to be far worse.’ Linton here started from his slumber in bewildered terror, and asked if any one had called his name. ‘No,’ said Catherine; ‘unless in dreams. I cannot conceive how you manage to doze out of doors, in the morning.’ ‘I thought I heard my father,’ he gasped, glancing up to the frowning nab above us. ‘You are sure nobody spoke?’ ‘Quite sure,’ replied his cousin. ‘Only Ellen and I were disputing concerning your health. Are you truly stronger, Linton, than when we separated in winter? If you be, I’m certain one thing is not stronger your regard for me: speak, are you?’ The tears gushed from Linton’s eyes as he answered, ‘Yes, yes, I am!’ And, still under the spell of the imaginary voice, his gaze wandered up and down to detect its owner. Cathy rose. ‘For to-day we must part,’ she said. ‘And I won’t conceal that I have been sadly disappointed with our meeting; though I’ll mention it to nobody but you: not that I stand in awe of Mr. Heathcliff.’ ‘Hush,’ murmured Linton; ‘for God’s sake, hush! He’s coming.’ And he clung to Catherine’s arm, striving to detain her; but at that announcement she hastily disengaged herself, and whistled to Minny, who obeyed her like a dog. ‘I’ll be here next Thursday,’ she cried, springing to the saddle. ‘Good-bye. Quick, Ellen!’ And so we left him, scarcely conscious of our departure, so absorbed was he in anticipating his father’s approach. Before we reached home, Catherine’s displeasure softened into a perplexed sensation of pity and regret, largely blended with vague, uneasy doubts about Linton’s actual circumstances, physical and social: in which I partook, though I counselled her not to say much; for a second journey would make us better judges. My master requested an account of our ongoings. His nephew’s offering of thanks was duly delivered, Miss Cathy gently touching on the rest: I also threw little light on his inquiries, for I hardly knew what to hide and what to reveal. Chapter XXVII SEVEN days glided away, every one marking its course by the henceforth rapid alteration of Edgar Linton’s state. The havoc that months had previously wrought was now emulated by the inroads of hours. Catherine we would fain have deluded yet; but her own quick spirit refused to delude her: it divined in secret, and brooded on the dreadful probability, gradually ripening into certainty. She had not the heart to mention her ride, when Thursday came round; I mentioned it for her, and obtained permission to order her out of doors: for the library, where her father stopped a short time daily the brief period he could bear to sit up and his chamber, had become her whole world. She grudged each moment that did not find her bending over his pillow, or seated by his side. Her countenance grew wan with watching and sorrow, and my master gladly dismissed her to what he flattered himself would be a happy change of scene and society; drawing comfort from the hope that she would not now be left entirely alone after his death. He had a fixed idea, I guessed by several observations he let fall, that, as his nephew resembled him in person, he would resemble him in mind; for Linton’s letters bore few or no indications of his defective character. And I, through pardonable weakness, refrained from correcting the error; asking myself what good there would be in disturbing his last moments with information that he had neither power nor opportunity to turn to account. We deferred our excursion till the afternoon; a golden afternoon of August: every breath from the hills so full of life, that it seemed whoever respired it, though dying, might revive. Catherine’s face was just like the landscape shadows and sunshine flitting over it in rapid succession; but the shadows rested longer, and the sunshine was more transient; and her poor little heart reproached itself for even that passing forgetfulness of its cares. We discerned Linton watching at the same spot he had selected before. My young mistress alighted, and told me that, as she was resolved to stay a very little while, I had better hold the pony and remain on horseback; but I dissented: I wouldn’t risk losing sight of the charge committed to me a minute; so we climbed the slope of heath together. Master Heathcliff received us with greater animation on this occasion: not the animation of high spirits though, nor yet of joy; it looked more like fear. ‘It is late!’ he said, speaking short and with difficulty. ‘Is not your father very ill? I thought you wouldn’t come.’ ‘WHY won’t you be candid?’ cried Catherine, swallowing her greeting. ‘Why cannot you say at once you don’t want me? It is strange, Linton, that for the second time you have brought me here on purpose, apparently to distress us both, and for no reason besides!’ Linton shivered, and glanced at her, half supplicating, half ashamed; but his cousin’s patience was not sufficient to endure this enigmatical behaviour. ‘My father IS very ill,’ she said; ‘and why am I called from his bedside? Why didn’t you send to absolve me from my promise, when you wished I wouldn’t keep it? Come! I desire an explanation: playing and trifling are completely banished out of my mind; and I can’t dance attendance on your affectations now!’ ‘My affectations!’ he murmured; ‘what are they? For heaven’s sake, Catherine, don’t look so angry! Despise me as much as you please; I am a worthless, cowardly wretch: I can’t be scorned enough; but I’m too mean for your anger. Hate my father, and spare me for contempt.’ ‘Nonsense!’ cried Catherine in a passion. ‘Foolish, silly boy! And there! he trembles: as if I were really going to touch him! You needn’t bespeak contempt, Linton: anybody will have it spontaneously at your service. Get off! I shall return home: it is folly dragging you from the hearth-stone, and pretending what do we pretend? Let go my frock! If I pitied you for crying and looking so very frightened, you should spurn such pity. Ellen, tell him how disgraceful this conduct is. Rise, and don’t degrade yourself into an abject reptile DON’T!’ With streaming face and an expression of agony, Linton had thrown his nerveless frame along the ground: he seemed convulsed with exquisite terror. ‘Oh!’ he sobbed, ‘I cannot bear it! Catherine, Catherine, I’m a traitor, too, and I dare not tell you! But leave me, and I shall be killed! DEAR Catherine, my life is in your hands: and you have said you loved me, and if you did, it wouldn’t harm you. You’ll not go, then? kind, sweet, good Catherine! And perhaps you WILL consent and he’ll let me die with you!’ My young lady, on witnessing his intense anguish, stooped to raise him. The old feeling of indulgent tenderness overcame her vexation, and she grew thoroughly moved and alarmed. ‘Consent to what?’ she asked. ‘To stay! tell me the meaning of this strange talk, and I will. You contradict your own words, and distract me! Be calm and frank, and confess at once all that weighs on your heart. You wouldn’t injure me, Linton, would you? You wouldn’t let any enemy hurt me, if you could prevent it? I’ll believe you are a coward, for yourself, but not a cowardly betrayer of your best friend.’ ‘But my father threatened me,’ gasped the boy, clasping his attenuated fingers, ‘and I dread him I dread him! I DARE not tell!’ ‘Oh, well!’ said Catherine, with scornful compassion, ‘keep your secret: I’M no coward. Save yourself: I’m not afraid!’ Her magnanimity provoked his tears: he wept wildly, kissing her supporting hands, and yet could not summon courage to speak out. I was cogitating what the mystery might be, and determined Catherine should never suffer to benefit him or any one else, by my good will; when, hearing a rustle among the ling, I looked up and saw Mr. Heathcliff almost close upon us, descending the Heights. He didn’t cast a glance towards my companions, though they were sufficiently near for Linton’s sobs to be audible; but hailing me in the almost hearty tone he assumed to none besides, and the sincerity of which I couldn’t avoid doubting, he said - ‘It is something to see you so near to my house, Nelly. How are you at the Grange? Let us hear. The rumour goes,’ he added, in a lower tone, ‘that Edgar Linton is on his death-bed: perhaps they exaggerate his illness?’ ‘No; my master is dying,’ I replied: ‘it is true enough. A sad thing it will be for us all, but a blessing for him!’ ‘How long will he last, do you think?’ he asked. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Because,’ he continued, looking at the two young people, who were fixed under his eye Linton appeared as if he could not venture to stir or raise his head, and Catherine could not move, on his account ‘because that lad yonder seems determined to beat me; and I’d thank his uncle to be quick, and go before him! Hallo! has the whelp been playing that game long? I DID give him some lessons about snivelling. Is he pretty lively with Miss Linton generally?’ ‘Lively? no he has shown the greatest distress,’ I answered. ‘To see him, I should say, that instead of rambling with his sweetheart on the hills, he ought to be in bed, under the hands of a doctor.’ ‘He shall be, in a day or two,’ muttered Heathcliff. ‘But first get up, Linton! Get up!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t grovel on the ground there up, this moment!’ Linton had sunk prostrate again in another paroxysm of helpless fear, caused by his father’s glance towards him, I suppose: there was nothing else to produce such humiliation. He made several efforts to obey, but his little strength was annihilated for the time, and he fell back again with a moan. Mr. Heathcliff advanced, and lifted him to lean against a ridge of turf. ‘Now,’ said he, with curbed ferocity, ‘I’m getting angry and if you don’t command that paltry spirit of yours DAMN you! get up directly!’ ‘I will, father,’ he panted. ‘Only, let me alone, or I shall faint. I’ve done as you wished, I’m sure. Catherine will tell you that I that I have been cheerful. keep by me, Catherine; give me your hand.’ ‘Take mine,’ said his father; ‘stand on your feet. There now she’ll lend you her arm: that’s right, look at her. You would imagine I was the devil himself, Miss Linton, to excite such horror. Be so kind as to walk home with him, will you? He shudders if I touch him.’ ‘Linton dear!’ whispered Catherine, ‘I can’t go to Wuthering Heights: papa has forbidden me. He’ll not harm you: why are you so afraid?’ ‘I can never re-enter that house,’ he answered. ‘I’m NOT to reenter it without you!’ ‘Stop!’ cried his father. ‘We’ll respect Catherine’s filial scruples. Nelly, take him in, and I’ll follow your advice concerning the doctor, without delay.’ ‘You’ll do well,’ replied I. ‘But I must remain with my mistress: to mind your son is not my business.’ ‘You are very stiff,’ said Heathcliff, ‘I know that: but you’ll force me to pinch the baby and make it scream before it moves your charity. Come, then, my hero. Are you willing to return, escorted by me?’ He approached once more, and made as if he would seize the fragile being; but, shrinking back, Linton clung to his cousin, and implored her to accompany him, with a frantic importunity that admitted no denial. However I disapproved, I couldn’t hinder her: indeed, how could she have refused him herself? What was filling him with dread we had no means of discerning; but there he was, powerless under its gripe, and any addition seemed capable of shocking him into idiotcy. We reached the threshold; Catherine walked in, and I stood waiting till she had conducted the invalid to a chair, expecting her out immediately; when Mr. Heathcliff, pushing me forward, exclaimed ‘My house is not stricken with the plague, Nelly; and I have a mind to be hospitable to-day: sit down, and allow me to shut the door.’ He shut and locked it also. I started. ‘You shall have tea before you go home,’ he added. ‘I am by myself. Hareton is gone with some cattle to the Lees, and Zillah and Joseph are off on a journey of pleasure; and, though I’m used to being alone, I’d rather have some interesting company, if I can get it. Miss Linton, take your seat by HIM. I give you what I have: the present is hardly worth accepting; but I have nothing else to offer. It is Linton, I mean. How she does stare! It’s odd what a savage feeling I have to anything that seems afraid of me! Had I been born where laws are less strict and tastes less dainty, I should treat myself to a slow vivisection of those two, as an evening’s amusement.’ He drew in his breath, struck the table, and swore to himself, ‘By hell! I hate them.’ ‘I am not afraid of you!’ exclaimed Catherine, who could not hear the latter part of his speech. She stepped close up; her black eyes flashing with passion and resolution. ‘Give me that key: I will have it!’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t eat or drink here, if I were starving.’ Heathcliff had the key in his hand that remained on the table. He looked up, seized with a sort of surprise at her boldness; or, possibly, reminded, by her voice and glance, of the person from whom she inherited it. She snatched at the instrument, and half succeeded in getting it out of his loosened fingers: but her action recalled him to the present; he recovered it speedily. ‘Now, Catherine Linton,’ he said, ‘stand off, or I shall knock you down; and, that will make Mrs. Dean mad.’ Regardless of this warning, she captured his closed hand and its contents again. ‘We will go!’ she repeated, exerting her utmost efforts to cause the iron muscles to relax; and finding that her nails made no impression, she applied her teeth pretty sharply. Heathcliff glanced at me a glance that kept me from interfering a moment. Catherine was too intent on his fingers to notice his face. He opened them suddenly, and resigned the object of dispute; but, ere she had well secured it, he seized her with the liberated hand, and, pulling her on his knee, administered with the other a shower of terrific slaps on both sides of the head, each sufficient to have fulfilled his threat, had she been able to fall.’ At this diabolical violence I rushed on him furiously. ‘You villain!’ I began to cry, ‘you villain!’ A touch on the chest silenced me: I am stout, and soon put out of breath; and, what with that and the rage, I staggered dizzily back and felt ready to suffocate, or to burst a blood-vessel. The scene was over in two minutes; Catherine, released, put her two hands to her temples, and looked just as if she were not sure whether her ears were off or on. She trembled like a reed, poor thing, and leant against the table perfectly bewildered. ‘I know how to chastise children, you see,’ said the scoundrel, grimly, as he stooped to repossess himself of the key, which had dropped to the floor. ‘Go to Linton now, as I told you; and cry at your ease! I shall be your father, to-morrow all the father you’ll have in a few days and you shall have plenty of that. You can bear plenty; you’re no weakling: you shall have a daily taste, if I catch such a devil of a temper in your eyes again!’ Cathy ran to me instead of Linton, and knelt down and put her burning cheek on my lap, weeping aloud. Her cousin had shrunk into a corner of the settle, as quiet as a mouse, congratulating himself, I dare say, that the correction had alighted on another than him. Mr. Heathcliff, perceiving us all confounded, rose, and expeditiously made the tea himself. The cups and saucers were laid ready. He poured it out, and handed me a cup. ‘Wash away your spleen,’ he said. ‘And help your own naughty pet and mine. It is not poisoned, though I prepared it. I’m going out to seek your horses.’ Our first thought, on his departure, was to force an exit somewhere. We tried the kitchen door, but that was fastened outside: we looked at the windows they were too narrow for even Cathy’s little figure. ‘Master Linton,’ I cried, seeing we were regularly imprisoned, ‘you know what your diabolical father is after, and you shall tell us, or I’ll box your ears, as he has done your cousin’s.’ ‘Yes, Linton, you must tell,’ said Catherine. ‘It was for your sake I came; and it will be wickedly ungrateful if you refuse.’ ‘Give me some tea, I’m thirsty, and then I’ll tell you,’ he answered. ‘Mrs. Dean, go away. I don’t like you standing over me. Now, Catherine, you are letting your tears fall into my cup. I won’t drink that. Give me another.’ Catherine pushed another to him, and wiped her face. I felt disgusted at the little wretch’s composure, since he was no longer in terror for himself. The anguish he had exhibited on the moor subsided as soon as ever he entered Wuthering Heights; so I guessed he had been menaced with an awful visitation of wrath if he failed in decoying us there; and, that accomplished, he had no further immediate fears. ‘Papa wants us to be married,’ he continued, after sipping some of the liquid. ‘And he knows your papa wouldn’t let us marry now; and he’s afraid of my dying if we wait; so we are to be married in the morning, and you are to stay here all night; and, if you do as he wishes, you shall return home next day, and take me with you.’ ‘Take you with her, pitiful changeling!’ I exclaimed. ‘YOU marry? Why, the man is mad! or he thinks us fools, every one. And do you imagine that beautiful young lady, that healthy, hearty girl, will tie herself to a little perishing monkey like you? Are you cherishing the notion that anybody, let alone Miss Catherine Linton, would have you for a husband? You want whipping for bringing us in here at all, with your dastardly puling tricks: and don’t look so silly, now! I’ve a very good mind to shake you severely, for your contemptible treachery, and your imbecile conceit.’ I did give him a slight shaking; but it brought on the cough, and he took to his ordinary resource of moaning and weeping, and Catherine rebuked me. ‘Stay all night? No,’ she said, looking slowly round. ‘Ellen, I’ll burn that door down but I’ll get out.’ And she would have commenced the execution of her threat directly, but Linton was up in alarm for his dear self again. He clasped her in his two feeble arms sobbing:‘Won’t you have me, and save me? not let me come to the Grange? Oh, darling Catherine! you mustn’t go and leave, after all. You MUST obey my father you MUST!’ ‘I must obey my own,’ she replied, ‘and relieve him from this cruel suspense. The whole night! What would he think? He’ll be distressed already. I’ll either break or burn a way out of the house. Be quiet! You’re in no danger; but if you hinder me Linton, I love papa better than you!’ The mortal terror he felt of Mr. Heathcliff’s anger restored to the boy his coward’s eloquence. Catherine was near distraught: still, she persisted that she must go home, and tried entreaty in her turn, persuading him to subdue his selfish agony. While they were thus occupied, our jailor reentered. ‘Your beasts have trotted off,’ he said, ‘and now Linton! snivelling again? What has she been doing to you? Come, come have done, and get to bed. In a month or two, my lad, you’ll be able to pay her back her present tyrannies with a vigorous hand. You’re pining for pure love, are you not? nothing else in the world: and she shall have you! There, to bed! Zillah won’t be here to-night; you must undress yourself. Hush! hold your noise! Once in your own room, I’ll not come near you: you needn’t fear. By chance, you’ve managed tolerably. I’ll look to the rest.’ He spoke these words, holding the door open for his son to pass, and the latter achieved his exit exactly as a spaniel might which suspected the person who attended on it of designing a spiteful squeeze. The lock was re-secured. Heathcliff approached the fire, where my mistress and I stood silent. Catherine looked up, and instinctively raised her hand to her cheek: his neighbourhood revived a painful sensation. Anybody else would have been incapable of regarding the childish act with sternness, but he scowled on her and muttered ‘Oh! you are not afraid of me? Your courage is well disguised: you seem damnably afraid!’ ‘I AM afraid now,’ she replied, ‘because, if I stay, papa will be miserable: and how can I endure making him miserable when he when he Mr. Heathcliff, let ME go home! I promise to marry Linton: papa would like me to: and I love him. Why should you wish to force me to do what I’ll willingly do of myself?’ ‘Let him dare to force you,’ I cried. ‘There’s law in the land, thank God! there is; though we be in an out-of-the-way place. I’d inform if he were my own son: and it’s felony without benefit of clergy!’ ‘Silence!’ said the ruffian. ‘To the devil with your clamour! I don’t want YOU to speak. Miss Linton, I shall enjoy myself remarkably in thinking your father will be miserable: I shall not sleep for satisfaction. You could have hit on no surer way of fixing your residence under my roof for the next twenty-four hours than informing me that such an event would follow. As to your promise to marry Linton, I’ll take care you shall keep it; for you shall not quit this place till it is fulfilled.’ ‘Send Ellen, then, to let papa know I’m safe!’ exclaimed Catherine, weeping bitterly. ‘Or marry me now. Poor papa! Ellen, he’ll think we’re lost. What shall we do?’ ‘Not he! He’ll think you are tired of waiting on him, and run off for a little amusement,’ answered Heathcliff. ‘You cannot deny that you entered my house of your own accord, in contempt of his injunctions to the contrary. And it is quite natural that you should desire amusement at your age; and that you would weary of nursing a sick man, and that man ONLY your father. Catherine, his happiest days were over when your days began. He cursed you, I dare say, for coming into the world (I did, at least); and it would just do if he cursed you as HE went out of it. I’d join him. I don’t love you! How should I? Weep away. As far as I can see, it will be your chief diversion hereafter; unless Linton make amends for other losses: and your provident parent appears to fancy he may. His letters of advice and consolation entertained me vastly. In his last he recommended my jewel to be careful of his; and kind to her when he got her. Careful and kind that’s paternal. But Linton requires his whole stock of care and kindness for himself. Linton can play the little tyrant well. He’ll undertake to torture any number of cats, if their teeth be drawn and their claws pared. You’ll be able to tell his uncle fine tales of his KINDNESS, when you get home again, I assure you.’ ‘You’re right there!’ I said; ‘explain your son’s character. Show his resemblance to yourself: and then, I hope, Miss Cathy will think twice before she takes the cockatrice!’ ‘I don’t much mind speaking of his amiable qualities now,’ he answered; ‘because she must either accept him or remain a prisoner, and you along with her, till your master dies. I can detain you both, quite concealed, here. If you doubt, encourage her to retract her word, and you’ll have an opportunity of judging!’ ‘I’ll not retract my word,’ said Catherine. ‘I’ll marry him within this hour, if I may go to Thrushcross Grange afterwards. Mr. Heathcliff, you’re a cruel man, but you’re not a fiend; and you won’t, from MERE malice, destroy irrevocably all my happiness. If papa thought I had left him on purpose, and if he died before I returned, could I bear to live? I’ve given over crying: but I’m going to kneel here, at your knee; and I’ll not get up, and I’ll not take my eyes from your face till you look back at me! No, don’t turn away! DO LOOK! you’ll see nothing to provoke you. I don’t hate you. I’m not angry that you struck me. Have you never loved ANYBODY in all your life, uncle? NEVER? you must look once. I’m so wretched, you can’t help being sorry and pitying me.’ ‘Keep your eft’s fingers off; and move, or I’ll kick you!’ cried Heathcliff, brutally repulsing her. ‘I’d rather be hugged by a snake. How the devil can you dream of fawning on me? I DETEST you!’ He shrugged his shoulders: shook himself, indeed, as if his flesh crept with aversion; and thrust back his chair; while I got up, and opened my mouth, to commence a downright torrent of abuse. But I was rendered dumb in the middle of the first sentence, by a threat that I should be shown into a room by myself the very next syllable I uttered. It was growing dark we heard a sound of voices at the garden-gate. Our host hurried out instantly: HE had his wits about him; WE had not. There was a talk of two or three minutes, and he returned alone. ‘I thought it had been your cousin Hareton,’ I observed to Catherine. ‘I wish he would arrive! Who knows but he might take our part?’ ‘It was three servants sent to seek you from the Grange,’ said Heathcliff, overhearing me. ‘You should have opened a lattice and called out: but I could swear that chit is glad you didn’t. She’s glad to be obliged to stay, I’m certain.’ At learning the chance we had missed, we both gave vent to our grief without control; and he allowed us to wail on till nine o’clock. Then he bid us go upstairs, through the kitchen, to Zillah’s chamber; and I whispered my companion to obey: perhaps we might contrive to get through the window there, or into a garret, and out by its skylight. The window, however, was narrow, like those below, and the garret trap was safe from our attempts; for we were fastened in as before. We neither of us lay down: Catherine took her station by the lattice, and watched anxiously for morning; a deep sigh being the only answer I could obtain to my frequent entreaties that she would try to rest. I seated myself in a chair, and rocked to and fro, passing harsh judgment on my many derelictions of duty; from which, it struck me then, all the misfortunes of my employers sprang. It was not the case, in reality, I am aware; but it was, in my imagination, that dismal night; and I thought Heathcliff himself less guilty than I. At seven o’clock he came, and inquired if Miss Linton had risen. She ran to the door immediately, and answered, ‘Yes.’ ‘Here, then,’ he said, opening it, and pulling her out. I rose to follow, but he turned the lock again. I demanded my release. ‘Be patient,’ he replied; ‘I’ll send up your breakfast in a while.’ I thumped on the panels, and rattled the latch angrily and Catherine asked why I was still shut up? He answered, I must try to endure it another hour, and they went away. I endured it two or three hours; at length, I heard a footstep: not Heathcliff’s. ‘I’ve brought you something to eat,’ said a voice; ‘oppen t’ door!’ Complying eagerly, I beheld Hareton, laden with food enough to last me all day. ‘Tak’ it,’ he added, thrusting the tray into my hand. ‘Stay one minute,’ I began. ‘Nay,’ cried he, and retired, regardless of any prayers I could pour forth to detain him. And there I remained enclosed the whole day, and the whole of the next night; and another, and another. Five nights and four days I remained, altogether, seeing nobody but Hareton once every morning; and he was a model of a jailor: surly, and dumb, and deaf to every attempt at moving his sense of justice or compassion. Chapter XXVIII ON the fifth morning, or rather afternoon, a different step approached lighter and shorter; and, this time, the person entered the room. It was Zillah; donned in her scarlet shawl, with a black silk bonnet on her head, and a willow-basket swung to her arm. ‘Eh, dear! Mrs. Dean!’ she exclaimed. ‘Well! there is a talk about you at Gimmerton. I never thought but you were sunk in the Blackhorse marsh, and missy with you, till master told me you’d been found, and he’d lodged you here! What! and you must have got on an island, sure? And how long were you in the hole? Did master save you, Mrs. Dean? But you’re not so thin you’ve not been so poorly, have you?’ ‘Your master is a true scoundrel!’ I replied. ‘But he shall answer for it. He needn’t have raised that tale: it shall all be laid bare!’ ‘What do you mean?’ asked Zillah. ‘It’s not his tale: they tell that in the village about your being lost in the marsh; and I calls to Earnshaw, when I come in ‘Eh, they’s queer things, Mr. Hareton, happened since I went off. It’s a sad pity of that likely young lass, and cant Nelly Dean.’ He stared. I thought he had not heard aught, so I told him the rumour. The master listened, and he just smiled to himself, and said, ‘If they have been in the marsh, they are out now, Zillah. Nelly Dean is lodged, at this minute, in your room. You can tell her to flit, when you go up; here is the key. The bog-water got into her head, and she would have run home quite flighty; but I fixed her till she came round to her senses. You can bid her go to the Grange at once, if she be able, and carry a message from me, that her young lady will follow in time to attend the squire’s funeral.‘‘ ‘Mr. Edgar is not dead?’ I gasped. ‘Oh! Zillah, Zillah!’ ‘No, no; sit you down, my good mistress,’ she replied; ‘you’re right sickly yet. He’s not dead; Doctor Kenneth thinks he may last another day. I met him on the road and asked.’ Instead of sitting down, I snatched my outdoor things, and hastened below, for the way was free. On entering the house, I looked about for some one to give information of Catherine. The place was filled with sunshine, and the door stood wide open; but nobody seemed at hand. As I hesitated whether to go off at once, or return and seek my mistress, a slight cough drew my attention to the hearth. Linton lay on the settle, sole tenant, sucking a stick of sugar-candy, and pursuing my movements with apathetic eyes. ‘Where is Miss Catherine?’ I demanded sternly, supposing I could frighten him into giving intelligence, by catching him thus, alone. He sucked on like an innocent. ‘Is she gone?’ I said. ‘No,’ he replied; ‘she’s upstairs: she’s not to go; we won’t let her.’ ‘You won’t let her, little idiot!’ I exclaimed. ‘Direct me to her room immediately, or I’ll make you sing out sharply.’ ‘Papa would make you sing out, if you attempted to get there,’ he answered. ‘He says I’m not to be soft with Catherine: she’s my wife, and it’s shameful that she should wish to leave me. He says she hates me and wants me to die, that she may have my money; but she shan’t have it: and she shan’t go home! She never shall! she may cry, and be sick as much as she pleases!’ He resumed his former occupation, closing his lids, as if he meant to drop asleep. ‘Master Heathcliff,’ I resumed, ‘have you forgotten all Catherine’s kindness to you last winter, when you affirmed you loved her, and when she brought you books and sung you songs, and came many a time through wind and snow to see you? She wept to miss one evening, because you would be disappointed; and you felt then that she was a hundred times too good to you: and now you believe the lies your father tells, though you know he detests you both. And you join him against her. That’s fine gratitude, is it not?’ The corner of Linton’s mouth fell, and he took the sugar-candy from his lips. ‘Did she come to Wuthering Heights because she hated you?’ I continued. ‘Think for yourself! As to your money, she does not even know that you will have any. And you say she’s sick; and yet you leave her alone, up there in a strange house! You who have felt what it is to be so neglected! You could pity your own sufferings; and she pitied them, too; but you won’t pity hers! I shed tears, Master Heathcliff, you see an elderly woman, and a servant merely and you, after pretending such affection, and having reason to worship her almost, store every tear you have for yourself, and lie there quite at ease. you’re a heartless, selfish boy!’ ‘I can’t stay with her,’ he answered crossly. ‘I’ll not stay by myself. She cries so I can’t bear it. And she won’t give over, though I say I’ll call my father. I did call him once, and he threatened to strangle her if she was not quiet; but she began again the instant he left the room, moaning and grieving all night long, though I screamed for vexation that I couldn’t sleep.’ ‘Is Mr. Heathcliff out?’ I inquired, perceiving that the wretched creature had no power to sympathize with his cousin’s mental tortures. ‘He’s in the court,’ he replied, ‘talking to Doctor Kenneth; who says uncle is dying, truly, at last. I’m glad, for I shall be master of the Grange after him. Catherine always spoke of it as her house. It isn’t hers! It’s mine: papa says everything she has is mine. All her nice books are mine; she offered to give me them, and her pretty birds, and her pony Minny, if I would get the key of our room, and let her out; but I told her she had nothing to give, they ware all, all mine. And then she cried, and took a little picture from her neck, and said I should have that; two pictures in a gold case, on one side her mother, and on the other uncle, when they were young. That was yesterday I said they were mine, too; and tried to get them from her. The spiteful thing wouldn’t let me: she pushed me off, and hurt me. I shrieked out that frightens her she heard papa coming, and she broke the hinges and divided the case, and gave me her mother’s portrait; the other she attempted to hide: but papa asked what was the matter, and I explained it. He took the one I had away, and ordered her to resign hers to me; she refused, and he he struck her down, and wrenched it off the chain, and crushed it with his foot.’ ‘And were you pleased to see her struck?’ I asked: having my designs in encouraging his talk. ‘I winked,’ he answered: ‘I wink to see my father strike a dog or a horse, he does it so hard. Yet I was glad at first she deserved punishing for pushing me: but when papa was gone, she made me come to the window and showed me her cheek cut on the inside, against her teeth, and her mouth filling with blood; and then she gathered up the bits of the picture, and went and sat down with her face to the wall, and she has never spoken to me since: and I sometimes think she can’t speak for pain. I don’t like to think so; but she’s a naughty thing for crying continually; and she looks so pale and wild, I’m afraid of her.’ ‘And you can get the key if you choose?’ I said. ‘Yes, when I am up-stairs,’ he answered; ‘but I can’t walk upstairs now.’ ‘In what apartment is it?’ I asked. ‘Oh,’ he cried, ‘I shan’t tell YOU where it is. It is our secret. Nobody, neither Hareton nor Zillah, is to know. There! you’ve tired me go away, go away!’ And he turned his face on to his arm, and shut his eyes again. I considered it best to depart without seeing Mr. Heathcliff, and bring a rescue for my young lady from the Grange. On reaching it, the astonishment of my fellow-servants to see me, and their joy also, was intense; and when they heard that their little mistress was safe, two or three were about to hurry up and shout the news at Mr. Edgar’s door: but I bespoke the announcement of it myself. How changed I found him, even in those few days! He lay an image of sadness and resignation awaiting his death. Very young he looked: though his actual age was thirty-nine, one would have called him ten years younger, at least. He thought of Catherine; for he murmured her name. I touched his hand, and spoke. ‘Catherine is coming, dear master!’ I whispered; ‘she is alive and well; and will be here, I hope, to-night.’ I trembled at the first effects of this intelligence: he half rose up, looked eagerly round the apartment, and then sank back in a swoon. As soon as he recovered, I related our compulsory visit, and detention at the Heights. I said Heathcliff forced me to go in: which was not quite true. I uttered as little as possible against Linton; nor did I describe all his father’s brutal conduct my intentions being to add no bitterness, if I could help it, to his already over-flowing cup. He divined that one of his enemy’s purposes was to secure the personal property, as well as the estate, to his son: or rather himself; yet why he did not wait till his decease was a puzzle to my master, because ignorant how nearly he and his nephew would quit the world together. However, he felt that his will had better be altered: instead of leaving Catherine’s fortune at her own disposal, he determined to put it in the hands of trustees for her use during life, and for her children, if she had any, after her. By that means, it could not fall to Mr. Heathcliff should Linton die. Having received his orders, I despatched a man to fetch the attorney, and four more, provided with serviceable weapons, to demand my young lady of her jailor. Both parties were delayed very late. The single servant returned first. He said Mr. Green, the lawyer, was out when he arrived at his house, and he had to wait two hours for his re-entrance; and then Mr. Green told him he had a little business in the village that must be done; but he would be at Thrushcross Grange before morning. The four men came back unaccompanied also. They brought word that Catherine was ill: too ill to quit her room; and Heathcliff would not suffer them to see her. I scolded the stupid fellows well for listening to that tale, which I would not carry to my master; resolving to take a whole bevy up to the Heights, at day-light, and storm it literally, unless the prisoner were quietly surrendered to us. Her father SHALL see her, I vowed, and vowed again, if that devil be killed on his own doorstones in trying to prevent it! Happily, I was spared the journey and the trouble. I had gone down-stairs at three o’clock to fetch a jug of water; and was passing through the hall with it in my hand, when a sharp knock at the front door made me jump. ‘Oh! it is Green,’ I said, recollecting myself ‘only Green,’ and I went on, intending to send somebody else to open it; but the knock was repeated: not loud, and still importunately. I put the jug on the banister and hastened to admit him myself. The harvest moon shone clear outside. It was not the attorney. My own sweet little mistress sprang on my neck sobbing, ‘Ellen, Ellen! Is papa alive?’ ‘Yes,’ I cried: ‘yes, my angel, he is, God be thanked, you are safe with us again!’ She wanted to run, breathless as she was, up-stairs to Mr. Linton’s room; but I compelled her to sit down on a chair, and made her drink, and washed her pale face, chafing it into a faint colour with my apron. Then I said I must go first, and tell of her arrival; imploring her to say, she should be happy with young Heathcliff. She stared, but soon comprehending why I counselled her to utter the falsehood, she assured me she would not complain. I couldn’t abide to be present at their meeting. I stood outside the chamber-door a quarter of an hour, and hardly ventured near the bed, then. All was composed, however: Catherine’s despair was as silent as her father’s joy. She supported him calmly, in appearance; and he fixed on her features his raised eyes that seemed dilating with ecstasy. He died blissfully, Mr. Lockwood: he died so. Kissing her cheek, he murmured, ‘I am going to her; and you, darling child, shall come to us!’ and never stirred or spoke again; but continued that rapt, radiant gaze, till his pulse imperceptibly stopped and his soul departed. None could have noticed the exact minute of his death, it was so entirely without a struggle. Whether Catherine had spent her tears, or whether the grief were too weighty to let them flow, she sat there dry-eyed till the sun rose: she sat till noon, and would still have remained brooding over that deathbed, but I insisted on her coming away and taking some repose. It was well I succeeded in removing her, for at dinner-time appeared the lawyer, having called at Wuthering Heights to get his instructions how to behave. He had sold himself to Mr. Heathcliff: that was the cause of his delay in obeying my master’s summons. Fortunately, no thought of worldly affairs crossed the latter’s mind, to disturb him, after his daughter’s arrival. Mr. Green took upon himself to order everything and everybody about the place. He gave all the servants but me, notice to quit. He would have carried his delegated authority to the point of insisting that Edgar Linton should not be buried beside his wife, but in the chapel, with his family. There was the will, however, to hinder that, and my loud protestations against any infringement of its directions. The funeral was hurried over; Catherine, Mrs. Linton Heathcliff now, was suffered to stay at the Grange till her father’s corpse had quitted it. She told me that her anguish had at last spurred Linton to incur the risk of liberating her. She heard the men I sent disputing at the door, and she gathered the sense of Heathcliff’s answer. It drove her desperate. Linton who had been conveyed up to the little parlour soon after I left, was terrified into fetching the key before his father re-ascended. He had the cunning to unlock and re-lock the door, without shutting it; and when he should have gone to bed, he begged to sleep with Hareton, and his petition was granted for once. Catherine stole out before break of day. She dared not try the doors lest the dogs should raise an alarm; she visited the empty chambers and examined their windows; and, luckily, lighting on her mother’s, she got easily out of its lattice, and on to the ground, by means of the fir-tree close by. Her accomplice suffered for his share in the escape, notwithstanding his timid contrivances. Chapter XXIX THE evening after the funeral, my young lady and I were seated in the library; now musing mournfully one of us despairingly on our loss, now venturing conjectures as to the gloomy future. We had just agreed the best destiny which could await Catherine would be a permission to continue resident at the Grange; at least during Linton’s life: he being allowed to join her there, and I to remain as housekeeper. That seemed rather too favourable an arrangement to be hoped for; and yet I did hope, and began to cheer up under the prospect of retaining my home and my employment, and, above all, my beloved young mistress; when a servant one of the discarded ones, not yet departed rushed hastily in, and said ‘that devil Heathcliff’ was coming through the court: should he fasten the door in his face? If we had been mad enough to order that proceeding, we had not time. He made no ceremony of knocking or announcing his name: he was master, and availed himself of the master’s privilege to walk straight in, without saying a word. The sound of our informant’s voice directed him to the library; he entered and motioning him out, shut the door. It was the same room into which he had been ushered, as a guest, eighteen years before: the same moon shone through the window; and the same autumn landscape lay outside. We had not yet lighted a candle, but all the apartment was visible, even to the portraits on the wall: the splendid head of Mrs. Linton, and the graceful one of her husband. Heathcliff advanced to the hearth. Time had little altered his person either. There was the same man: his dark face rather sallower and more composed, his frame a stone or two heavier, perhaps, and no other difference. Catherine had risen with an impulse to dash out, when she saw him. ‘Stop!’ he said, arresting her by the arm. ‘No more runnings away! Where would you go? I’m come to fetch you home; and I hope you’ll be a dutiful daughter and not encourage my son to further disobedience. I was embarrassed how to punish him when I discovered his part in the business: he’s such a cobweb, a pinch would annihilate him; but you’ll see by his look that he has received his due! I brought him down one evening, the day before yesterday, and just set him in a chair, and never touched him afterwards. I sent Hareton out, and we had the room to ourselves. In two hours, I called Joseph to carry him up again; and since then my presence is as potent on his nerves as a ghost; and I fancy he sees me often, though I am not near. Hareton says he wakes and shrieks in the night by the hour together, and calls you to protect him from me; and, whether you like your precious mate, or not, you must come: he’s your concern now; I yield all my interest in him to you.’ ‘Why not let Catherine continue here,’ I pleaded, ‘and send Master Linton to her? As you hate them both, you’d not miss them: they can only be a daily plague to your unnatural heart.’ ‘I’m seeking a tenant for the Grange,’ he answered; ‘and I want my children about me, to be sure. Besides, that lass owes me her services for her bread. I’m not going to nurture her in luxury and idleness after Linton is gone. Make haste and get ready, now; and don’t oblige me to compel you.’ ‘I shall,’ said Catherine. ‘Linton is all I have to love in the world, and though you have done what you could to make him hateful to me, and me to him, you cannot make us hate each other. And I defy you to hurt him when I am by, and I defy you to frighten me!’ ‘You are a boastful champion,’ replied Heathcliff; ‘but I don’t like you well enough to hurt him: you shall get the full benefit of the torment, as long as it lasts. It is not I who will make him hateful to you it is his own sweet spirit. He’s as bitter as gall at your desertion and its consequences: don’t expect thanks for this noble devotion. I heard him draw a pleasant picture to Zillah of what he would do if he were as strong as I: the inclination is there, and his very weakness will sharpen his wits to find a substitute for strength.’ ‘I know he has a bad nature,’ said Catherine: ‘he’s your son. But I’m glad I’ve a better, to forgive it; and I know he loves me, and for that reason I love him. Mr. Heathcliff YOU have NOBODY to love you; and, however miserable you make us, we shall still have the revenge of thinking that your cruelty arises from your greater misery. You ARE miserable, are you not? Lonely, like the devil, and envious like him? NOBODY loves you NOBODY will cry for you when you die! I wouldn’t be you!’ Catherine spoke with a kind of dreary triumph: she seemed to have made up her mind to enter into the spirit of her future family, and draw pleasure from the griefs of her enemies. ‘You shall be sorry to be yourself presently,’ said her father-inlaw, ‘if you stand there another minute. Begone, witch, and get your things!’ She scornfully withdrew. In her absence I began to beg for Zillah’s place at the Heights, offering to resign mine to her; but he would suffer it on no account. He bid me be silent; and then, for the first time, allowed himself a glance round the room and a look at the pictures. Having studied Mrs. Linton’s, he said ‘I shall have that home. Not because I need it, but ‘ He turned abruptly to the fire, and continued, with what, for lack of a better word, I must call a smile ‘I’ll tell you what I did yesterday! I got the sexton, who was digging Linton’s grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it. I thought, once, I would have stayed there: when I saw her face again it is hers yet! he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change if the air blew on it, and so I struck one side of the coffin loose, and covered it up: not Linton’s side, damn him! I wish he’d been soldered in lead. And I bribed the sexton to pull it away when I’m laid there, and slide mine out too; I’ll have it made so: and then by the time Linton gets to us he’ll not know which is which!’ ‘You were very wicked, Mr. Heathcliff!’ I exclaimed; ‘were you not ashamed to disturb the dead?’ ‘I disturbed nobody, Nelly,’ he replied; ‘and I gave some ease to myself. I shall be a great deal more comfortable now; and you’ll have a better chance of keeping me underground, when I get there. Disturbed her? she has disturbed me, night and day, through eighteen years incessantly remorselessly till yesternight; and yesternight I was tranquil. I dreamt I was sleeping the last sleep by that sleeper, with my heart stopped and my cheek frozen against hers.’ ‘And if she had been dissolved into earth, or worse, what would you have dreamt of then?’ I said. ‘Of dissolving with her, and being more happy still!’ he answered. ‘Do you suppose I dread any change of that sort? I expected such a transformation on raising the lid but I’m better pleased that it should not commence till I share it. Besides, unless I had received a distinct impression of her passionless features, that strange feeling would hardly have been removed. It began oddly. You know I was wild after she died; and eternally, from dawn to dawn, praying her to return to me her spirit! I have a strong faith in ghosts: I have a conviction that they can, and do, exist among us! The day she was buried, there came a fall of snow. In the evening I went to the churchyard. It blew bleak as winter all round was solitary. I didn’t fear that her fool of a husband would wander up the glen so late; and no one else had business to bring them there. Being alone, and conscious two yards of loose earth was the sole barrier between us, I said to myself ‘I’ll have her in my arms again! If she be cold, I’ll think it is this north wind that chills ME; and if she be motionless, it is sleep.’ I got a spade from the tool-house, and began to delve with all my might it scraped the coffin; I fell to work with my hands; the wood commenced cracking about the screws; I was on the point of attaining my object, when it seemed that I heard a sigh from some one above, close at the edge of the grave, and bending down. ‘If I can only get this off,’ I muttered, ‘I wish they may shovel in the earth over us both!’ and I wrenched at it more desperately still. There was another sigh, close at my ear. I appeared to feel the warm breath of it displacing the sleet-laden wind. I knew no living thing in flesh and blood was by; but, as certainly as you perceive the approach to some substantial body in the dark, though it cannot be discerned, so certainly I felt that Cathy was there: not under me, but on the earth. A sudden sense of relief flowed from my heart through every limb. I relinquished my labour of agony, and turned consoled at once: unspeakably consoled. Her presence was with me: it remained while I re-filled the grave, and led me home. You may laugh, if you will; but I was sure I should see her there. I was sure she was with me, and I could not help talking to her. Having reached the Heights, I rushed eagerly to the door. It was fastened; and, I remember, that accursed Earnshaw and my wife opposed my entrance. I remember stopping to kick the breath out of him, and then hurrying up-stairs, to my room and hers. I looked round impatiently I felt her by me I could ALMOST see her, and yet I COULD NOT! I ought to have sweat blood then, from the anguish of my yearning from the fervour of my supplications to have but one glimpse! I had not one. She showed herself, as she often was in life, a devil to me! And, since then, sometimes more and sometimes less, I’ve been the sport of that intolerable torture! Infernal! keeping my nerves at such a stretch that, if they had not resembled catgut, they would long ago have relaxed to the feebleness of Linton’s. When I sat in the house with Hareton, it seemed that on going out I should meet her; when I walked on the moors I should meet her coming in. When I went from home I hastened to return; she MUST be somewhere at the Heights, I was certain! And when I slept in her chamber I was beaten out of that. I couldn’t lie there; for the moment I closed my eyes, she was either outside the window, or sliding back the panels, or entering the room, or even resting her darling head on the same pillow as she did when a child; and I must open my lids to see. And so I opened and closed them a hundred times a night to be always disappointed! It racked me! I’ve often groaned aloud, till that old rascal Joseph no doubt believed that my conscience was playing the fiend inside of me. Now, since I’ve seen her, I’m pacified a little. It was a strange way of killing: not by inches, but by fractions of hairbreadths, to beguile me with the spectre of a hope through eighteen years!’ Mr. Heathcliff paused and wiped his forehead; his hair clung to it, wet with perspiration; his eyes were fixed on the red embers of the fire, the brows not contracted, but raised next the temples; diminishing the grim aspect of his countenance, but imparting a peculiar look of trouble, and a painful appearance of mental tension towards one absorbing subject. He only half addressed me, and I maintained silence. I didn’t like to hear him talk! After a short period he resumed his meditation on the picture, took it down and leant it against the sofa to contemplate it at better advantage; and while so occupied Catherine entered, announcing that she was ready, when her pony should be saddled. ‘Send that over to-morrow,’ said Heathcliff to me; then turning to her, he added: ‘You may do without your pony: it is a fine evening, and you’ll need no ponies at Wuthering Heights; for what journeys you take, your own feet will serve you. Come along.’ ‘Good-bye, Ellen!’ whispered my dear little mistress. As she kissed me, her lips felt like ice. ‘Come and see me, Ellen; don’t forget.’ ‘Take care you do no such thing, Mrs. Dean!’ said her new father. ‘When I wish to speak to you I’ll come here. I want none of your prying at my house!’ He signed her to precede him; and casting back a look that cut my heart, she obeyed. I watched them, from the window, walk down the garden. Heathcliff fixed Catherine’s arm under his: though she disputed the act at first evidently; and with rapid strides he hurried her into the alley, whose trees concealed them. Chapter XXX I HAVE paid a visit to the Heights, but I have not seen her since she left: Joseph held the door in his hand when I called to ask after her, and wouldn’t let me pass. He said Mrs. Linton was ‘thrang,’ and the master was not in. Zillah has told me something of the way they go on, otherwise I should hardly know who was dead and who living. She thinks Catherine haughty, and does not like her, I can guess by her talk. My young lady asked some aid of her when she first came; but Mr. Heathcliff told her to follow her own business, and let his daughter-in-law look after herself; and Zillah willingly acquiesced, being a narrow-minded, selfish woman. Catherine evinced a child’s annoyance at this neglect; repaid it with contempt, and thus enlisted my informant among her enemies, as securely as if she had done her some great wrong. I had a long talk with Zillah about six weeks ago, a little before you came, one day when we foregathered on the moor; and this is what she told me. ‘The first thing Mrs. Linton did,’ she said, ‘on her arrival at the Heights, was to run up-stairs, without even wishing good-evening to me and Joseph; she shut herself into Linton’s room, and remained till morning. Then, while the master and Earnshaw were at breakfast, she entered the house, and asked all in a quiver if the doctor might be sent for? her cousin was very ill. ‘’We know that!’ answered Heathcliff; ‘but his life is not worth a farthing, and I won’t spend a farthing on him.’ ‘’But I cannot tell how to do,’ she said; ‘and if nobody will help me, he’ll die!’ ‘’Walk out of the room,’ cried the master, ‘and let me never hear a word more about him! None here care what becomes of him; if you do, act the nurse; if you do not, lock him up and leave him.’ ‘Then she began to bother me, and I said I’d had enough plague with the tiresome thing; we each had our tasks, and hers was to wait on Linton: Mr. Heathcliff bid me leave that labour to her. ‘How they managed together, I can’t tell. I fancy he fretted a great deal, and moaned hisseln night and day; and she had precious little rest: one could guess by her white face and heavy eyes. She sometimes came into the kitchen all wildered like, and looked as if she would fain beg assistance; but I was not going to disobey the master: I never dare disobey him, Mrs. Dean; and, though I thought it wrong that Kenneth should not be sent for, it was no concern of mine either to advise or complain, and I always refused to meddle. Once or twice, after we had gone to bed, I’ve happened to open my door again and seen her sitting crying on the stairs’top; and then I’ve shut myself in quick, for fear of being moved to interfere. I did pity her then, I’m sure: still I didn’t wish to lose my place, you know. ‘At last, one night she came boldly into my chamber, and frightened me out of my wits, by saying, ‘Tell Mr. Heathcliff that his son is dying I’m sure he is, this time. Get up, instantly, and tell him.’ ‘Having uttered this speech, she vanished again. I lay a quarter of an hour listening and trembling. Nothing stirred the house was quiet. ‘She’s mistaken, I said to myself. He’s got over it. I needn’t disturb them; and I began to doze. But my sleep was marred a second time by a sharp ringing of the bell the only bell we have, put up on purpose for Linton; and the master called to me to see what was the matter, and inform them that he wouldn’t have that noise repeated. ‘I delivered Catherine’s message. He cursed to himself, and in a few minutes came out with a lighted candle, and proceeded to their room. I followed. Mrs. Heathcliff was seated by the bedside, with her hands folded on her knees. Her father-in-law went up, held the light to Linton’s face, looked at him, and touched him; afterwards he turned to her. ‘’Now Catherine,’ he said, ‘how do you feel?’ ‘She was dumb. ‘’How do you feel, Catherine?’ he repeated. ‘’He’s safe, and I’m free,’ she answered: ‘I should feel well but,’ she continued, with a bitterness she couldn’t conceal, ‘you have left me so long to struggle against death alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!’ ‘And she looked like it, too! I gave her a little wine. Hareton and Joseph, who had been wakened by the ringing and the sound of feet, and heard our talk from outside, now entered. Joseph was fain, I believe, of the lad’s removal; Hareton seemed a thought bothered: though he was more taken up with staring at Catherine than thinking of Linton. But the master bid him get off to bed again: we didn’t want his help. He afterwards made Joseph remove the body to his chamber, and told me to return to mine, and Mrs. Heathcliff remained by herself. ‘In the morning, he sent me to tell her she must come down to breakfast: she had undressed, and appeared going to sleep, and said she was ill; at which I hardly wondered. I informed Mr. Heathcliff, and he replied, ‘Well, let her be till after the funeral; and go up now and then to get her what is needful; and, as soon as she seems better, tell me.‘‘ Cathy stayed upstairs a fortnight, according to Zillah; who visited her twice a day, and would have been rather more friendly, but her attempts at increasing kindness were proudly and promptly repelled. Heathcliff went up once, to show her Linton’s will. He had bequeathed the whole of his, and what had been her, moveable property, to his father: the poor creature was threatened, or coaxed, into that act during her week’s absence, when his uncle died. The lands, being a minor, he could not meddle with. However, Mr. Heathcliff has claimed and kept them in his wife’s right and his also: I suppose legally; at any rate, Catherine, destitute of cash and friends, cannot disturb his possession. ‘Nobody,’ said Zillah, ‘ever approached her door, except that once, but I; and nobody asked anything about her. The first occasion of her coming down into the house was on a Sunday afternoon. She had cried out, when I carried up her dinner, that she couldn’t bear any longer being in the cold; and I told her the master was going to Thrushcross Grange, and Earnshaw and I needn’t hinder her from descending; so, as soon as she heard Heathcliff’s horse trot off, she made her appearance, donned in black, and her yellow curls combed back behind her ears as plain as a Quaker: she couldn’t comb them out. ‘Joseph and I generally go to chapel on Sundays:’ the kirk, you know, has no minister now, explained Mrs. Dean; and they call the Methodists’ or Baptists’ place (I can’t say which it is) at Gimmerton, a chapel. ‘Joseph had gone,’ she continued, ‘but I thought proper to bide at home. Young folks are always the better for an elder’s over-looking; and Hareton, with all his bashfulness, isn’t a model of nice behaviour. I let him know that his cousin would very likely sit with us, and she had been always used to see the Sabbath respected; so he had as good leave his guns and bits of indoor work alone, while she stayed. He coloured up at the news, and cast his eyes over his hands and clothes. The train-oil and gunpowder were shoved out of sight in a minute. I saw he meant to give her his company; and I guessed, by his way, he wanted to be presentable; so, laughing, as I durst not laugh when the master is by, I offered to help him, if he would, and joked at his confusion. He grew sullen, and began to swear. ‘Now, Mrs. Dean,’ Zillah went on, seeing me not pleased by her manner, ‘you happen think your young lady too fine for Mr. Hareton; and happen you’re right: but I own I should love well to bring her pride a peg lower. And what will all her learning and her daintiness do for her, now? She’s as poor as you or I: poorer, I’ll be bound: you’re saying, and I’m doing my little all that road.’ Hareton allowed Zillah to give him her aid; and she flattered him into a good humour; so, when Catherine came, half forgetting her former insults, he tried to make himself agreeable, by the housekeeper’s account. ‘Missis walked in,’ she said, ‘as chill as an icicle, and as high as a princess. I got up and offered her my seat in the arm-chair. No, she turned up her nose at my civility. Earnshaw rose, too, and bid her come to the settle, and sit close by the fire: he was sure she was starved. ‘’I’ve been starved a month and more,’ she answered, resting on the word as scornful as she could. ‘And she got a chair for herself, and placed it at a distance from both of us. Having sat till she was warm, she began to look round, and discovered a number of books on the dresser; she was instantly upon her feet again, stretching to reach them: but they were too high up. Her cousin, after watching her endeavours a while, at last summoned courage to help her; she held her frock, and he filled it with the first that came to hand. ‘That was a great advance for the lad. She didn’t thank him; still, he felt gratified that she had accepted his assistance, and ventured to stand behind as she examined them, and even to stoop and point out what struck his fancy in certain old pictures which they contained; nor was he daunted by the saucy style in which she jerked the page from his finger: he contented himself with going a bit farther back and looking at her instead of the book. She continued reading, or seeking for something to read. His attention became, by degrees, quite centred in the study of her thick silky curls: her face he couldn’t see, and she couldn’t see him. And, perhaps, not quite awake to what he did, but attracted like a child to a candle, at last he proceeded from staring to touching; he put out his hand and stroked one curl, as gently as if it were a bird. He might have stuck a knife into her neck, she started round in such a taking. ‘’Get away this moment! How dare you touch me? Why are you stopping there?’ she cried, in a tone of disgust. ‘I can’t endure you! I’ll go upstairs again, if you come near me.’ ‘Mr. Hareton recoiled, looking as foolish as he could do: he sat down in the settle very quiet, and she continued turning over her volumes another half hour; finally, Earnshaw crossed over, and whispered to me. ‘Will you ask her to read to us, Zillah? I’m stalled of doing naught; and I do like I could like to hear her! Dunnot say I wanted it, but ask of yourseln.’ ‘’Mr. Hareton wishes you would read to us, ma’am,’ I said, immediately. ‘He’d take it very kind he’d be much obliged.’ ‘She frowned; and looking up, answered - ‘’Mr. Hareton, and the whole set of you, will be good enough to understand that I reject any pretence at kindness you have the hypocrisy to offer! I despise you, and will have nothing to say to any of you! When I would have given my life for one kind word, even to see one of your faces, you all kept off. But I won’t complain to you! I’m driven down here by the cold; not either to amuse you or enjoy your society.’ ‘’What could I ha’ done?’ began Earnshaw. ‘How was I to blame?’ ‘’Oh! you are an exception,’ answered Mrs. Heathcliff. ‘I never missed such a concern as you.’ ‘’But I offered more than once, and asked,’ he said, kindling up at her pertness, ‘I asked Mr. Heathcliff to let me wake for you ‘ ‘’Be silent! I’ll go out of doors, or anywhere, rather than have your disagreeable voice in my ear!’ said my lady. ‘Hareton muttered she might go to hell, for him! and unslinging his gun, restrained himself from his Sunday occupations no longer. He talked now, freely enough; and she presently saw fit to retreat to her solitude: but the frost had set in, and, in spite of her pride, she was forced to condescend to our company, more and more. However, I took care there should be no further scorning at my good nature: ever since, I’ve been as stiff as herself; and she has no lover or liker among us: and she does not deserve one; for, let them say the least word to her, and she’ll curl back without respect of any one. She’ll snap at the master himself, and as good as dares him to thrash her; and the more hurt she gets, the more venomous she grows.’ At first, on hearing this account from Zillah, I determined to leave my situation, take a cottage, and get Catherine to come and live with me: but Mr. Heathcliff would as soon permit that as he would set up Hareton in an independent house; and I can see no remedy, at present, unless she could marry again; and that scheme it does not come within my province to arrange. Thus ended Mrs. Dean’s story. Notwithstanding the doctor’s prophecy, I am rapidly recovering strength; and though it be only the second week in January, I propose getting out on horseback in a day or two, and riding over to Wuthering Heights, to inform my landlord that I shall spend the next six months in London; and, if he likes, he may look out for another tenant to take the place after October. I would not pass another winter here for much. Chapter XXXI YESTERDAY was bright, calm, and frosty. I went to the Heights as I proposed: my housekeeper entreated me to bear a little note from her to her young lady, and I did not refuse, for the worthy woman was not conscious of anything odd in her request. The front door stood open, but the jealous gate was fastened, as at my last visit; I knocked and invoked Earnshaw from among the garden-beds; he unchained it, and I entered. The fellow is as handsome a rustic as need be seen. I took particular notice of him this time; but then he does his best apparently to make the least of his advantages. I asked if Mr. Heathcliff were at home? He answered, No; but he would be in at dinner-time. It was eleven o’clock, and I announced my intention of going in and waiting for him; at which he immediately flung down his tools and accompanied me, in the office of watchdog, not as a substitute for the host. We entered together; Catherine was there, making herself useful in preparing some vegetables for the approaching meal; she looked more sulky and less spirited than when I had seen her first. She hardly raised her eyes to notice me, and continued her employment with the same disregard to common forms of politeness as before; never returning my bow and good-morning by the slightest acknowledgment. ‘She does not seem so amiable,’ I thought, ‘as Mrs. Dean would persuade me to believe. She’s a beauty, it is true; but not an angel.’ Earnshaw surlily bid her remove her things to the kitchen. ‘Remove them yourself,’ she said, pushing them from her as soon as she had done; and retiring to a stool by the window, where she began to carve figures of birds and beasts out of the turnip-parings in her lap. I approached her, pretending to desire a view of the garden; and, as I fancied, adroitly dropped Mrs. Dean’s note on to her knee, unnoticed by Hareton but she asked aloud, ‘What is that?’ And chucked it off. ‘A letter from your old acquaintance, the housekeeper at the Grange,’ I answered; annoyed at her exposing my kind deed, and fearful lest it should be imagined a missive of my own. She would gladly have gathered it up at this information, but Hareton beat her; he seized and put it in his waistcoat, saying Mr. Heathcliff should look at it first. Thereat, Catherine silently turned her face from us, and, very stealthily, drew out her pockethandkerchief and applied it to her eyes; and her cousin, after struggling awhile to keep down his softer feelings, pulled out the letter and flung it on the floor beside her, as ungraciously as he could. Catherine caught and perused it eagerly; then she put a few questions to me concerning the inmates, rational and irrational, of her former home; and gazing towards the hills, murmured in soliloquy: ‘I should like to be riding Minny down there! I should like to be climbing up there! I’m tired I’m STALLED, Hareton!’ And she leant her pretty head back against the sill, with half a yawn and half a sigh, and lapsed into an aspect of abstracted sadness: neither caring nor knowing whether we remarked her. ‘Mrs. Heathcliff,’ I said, after sitting some time mute, ‘you are not aware that I am an acquaintance of yours? so intimate that I think it strange you won’t come and speak to me. My housekeeper never wearies of talking about and praising you; and she’ll be greatly disappointed if I return with no news of or from you, except that you received her letter and said nothing!’ She appeared to wonder at this speech, and asked, - ‘Does Ellen like you?’ ‘Yes, very well,’ I replied, hesitatingly. ‘You must tell her,’ she continued, ‘that I would answer her letter, but I have no materials for writing: not even a book from which I might tear a leaf.’ ‘No books!’ I exclaimed. ‘How do you contrive to live here without them? if I may take the liberty to inquire. Though provided with a large library, I’m frequently very dull at the Grange; take my books away, and I should be desperate!’ ‘I was always reading, when I had them,’ said Catherine; ‘and Mr. Heathcliff never reads; so he took it into his head to destroy my books. I have not had a glimpse of one for weeks. Only once, I searched through Joseph’s store of theology, to his great irritation; and once, Hareton, I came upon a secret stock in your room some Latin and Greek, and some tales and poetry: all old friends. I brought the last here and you gathered them, as a magpie gathers silver spoons, for the mere love of stealing! They are of no use to you; or else you concealed them in the bad spirit that, as you cannot enjoy them, nobody else shall. Perhaps YOUR envy counselled Mr. Heathcliff to rob me of my treasures? But I’ve most of them written on my brain and printed in my heart, and you cannot deprive me of those!’ Earnshaw blushed crimson when his cousin made this revelation of his private literary accumulations, and stammered an indignant denial of her accusations. ‘Mr. Hareton is desirous of increasing his amount of knowledge,’ I said, coming to his rescue. ‘He is not ENVIOUS, but EMULOUS of your attainments. He’ll be a clever scholar in a few years.’ ‘And he wants me to sink into a dunce, meantime,’ answered Catherine. ‘Yes, I hear him trying to spell and read to himself, and pretty blunders he makes! I wish you would repeat Chevy Chase as you did yesterday: it was extremely funny. I heard you; and I heard you turning over the dictionary to seek out the hard words, and then cursing because you couldn’t read their explanations!’ The young man evidently thought it too bad that he should be laughed at for his ignorance, and then laughed at for trying to remove it. I had a similar notion; and, remembering Mrs. Dean’s anecdote of his first attempt at enlightening the darkness in which he had been reared, I observed, ‘But, Mrs. Heathcliff, we have each had a commencement, and each stumbled and tottered on the threshold; had our teachers scorned instead of aiding us, we should stumble and totter yet.’ ‘Oh!’ she replied, ‘I don’t wish to limit his acquirements: still, he has no right to appropriate what is mine, and make it ridiculous to me with his vile mistakes and mispronunciations! Those books, both prose and verse, are consecrated to me by other associations; and I hate to have them debased and profaned in his mouth! Besides, of all, he has selected my favourite pieces that I love the most to repeat, as if out of deliberate malice.’ Hareton’s chest heaved in silence a minute: he laboured under a severe sense of mortification and wrath, which it was no easy task to suppress. I rose, and, from a gentlemanly idea of relieving his embarrassment, took up my station in the doorway, surveying the external prospect as I stood. He followed my example, and left the room; but presently reappeared, bearing half a dozen volumes in his hands, which he threw into Catherine’s lap, exclaiming, ‘Take them! I never want to hear, or read, or think of them again!’ ‘I won’t have them now,’ she answered. ‘I shall connect them with you, and hate them.’ She opened one that had obviously been often turned over, and read a portion in the drawling tone of a beginner; then laughed, and threw it from her. ‘And listen,’ she continued, provokingly, commencing a verse of an old ballad in the same fashion. But his self-love would endure no further torment: I heard, and not altogether disapprovingly, a manual cheek given to her saucy tongue. The little wretch had done her utmost to hurt her cousin’s sensitive though uncultivated feelings, and a physical argument was the only mode he had of balancing the account, and repaying its effects on the inflictor. He afterwards gathered the books and hurled them on the fire. I read in his countenance what anguish it was to offer that sacrifice to spleen. I fancied that as they consumed, he recalled the pleasure they had already imparted, and the triumph and ever-increasing pleasure he had anticipated from them; and I fancied I guessed the incitement to his secret studies also. He had been content with daily labour and rough animal enjoyments, till Catherine crossed his path. Shame at her scorn, and hope of her approval, were his first prompters to higher pursuits; and instead of guarding him from one and winning him to the other, his endeavours to raise himself had produced just the contrary result. ‘Yes that’s all the good that such a brute as you can get from them!’ cried Catherine, sucking her damaged lip, and watching the conflagration with indignant eyes. ‘You’d BETTER hold your tongue, now,’ he answered fiercely. And his agitation precluded further speech; he advanced hastily to the entrance, where I made way for him to pass. But ere he had crossed the door-stones, Mr. Heathcliff, coming up the causeway, encountered him, and laying hold of his shoulder asked, ‘What’s to do now, my lad?’ ‘Naught, naught,’ he said, and broke away to enjoy his grief and anger in solitude. Heathcliff gazed after him, and sighed. ‘It will be odd if I thwart myself,’ he muttered, unconscious that I was behind him. ‘But when I look for his father in his face, I find HER every day more! How the devil is he so like? I can hardly bear to see him.’ He bent his eyes to the ground, and walked moodily in. There was a restless, anxious expression in his countenance. I had never remarked there before; and he looked sparer in person. His daughter-in-law, on perceiving him through the window, immediately escaped to the kitchen, so that I remained alone. ‘I’m glad to see you out of doors again, Mr. Lockwood,’ he said, in reply to my greeting; ‘from selfish motives partly: I don’t think I could readily supply your loss in this desolation. I’ve wondered more than once what brought you here.’ ‘An idle whim, I fear, sir,’ was my answer; ‘or else an idle whim is going to spirit me away. I shall set out for London next week; and I must give you warning that I feel no disposition to retain Thrushcross Grange beyond the twelve months I agreed to rent it. I believe I shall not live there any more.’ ‘Oh, indeed; you’re tired of being banished from the world, are you?’ he said. ‘But if you be coming to plead off paying for a place you won’t occupy, your journey is useless: I never relent in exacting my due from any one.’ ‘I’m coming to plead off nothing about it,’ I exclaimed, considerably irritated. ‘Should you wish it, I’ll settle with you now,’ and I drew my note-book from my pocket. ‘No, no,’ he replied, coolly; ‘you’ll leave sufficient behind to cover your debts, if you fail to return: I’m not in such a hurry. Sit down and take your dinner with us; a guest that is safe from repeating his visit can generally be made welcome. Catherine bring the things in: where are you?’ Catherine reappeared, bearing a tray of knives and forks. ‘You may get your dinner with Joseph,’ muttered Heathcliff, aside, ‘and remain in the kitchen till he is gone.’ She obeyed his directions very punctually: perhaps she had no temptation to transgress. Living among clowns and misanthropists, she probably cannot appreciate a better class of people when she meets them. With Mr. Heathcliff, grim and saturnine, on the one hand, and Hareton, absolutely dumb, on the other, I made a somewhat cheerless meal, and bade adieu early. I would have departed by the back way, to get a last glimpse of Catherine and annoy old Joseph; but Hareton received orders to lead up my horse, and my host himself escorted me to the door, so I could not fulfil my wish. ‘How dreary life gets over in that house!’ I reflected, while riding down the road. ‘What a realisation of something more romantic than a fairy tale it would have been for Mrs. Linton Heathcliff, had she and I struck up an attachment, as her good nurse desired, and migrated together into the stirring atmosphere of the town!’ Chapter XXXII This September I was invited to devastate the moors of a friend in the north, and on my journey to his abode, I unexpectedly came within fifteen miles of Gimmerton. The ostler at a roadside public-house was holding a pail of water to refresh my horses, when a cart of very green oats, newly reaped, passed by, and he remarked, ‘Yon’s frough Gimmerton, nah! They’re allas three wick’ after other folk wi’ ther harvest.’ ‘Gimmerton?’ I repeated my residence in that locality had already grown dim and dreamy. ‘Ah! I know. How far is it from this?’ ‘Happen fourteen mile o’er th’ hills; and a rough road,’ he answered. A sudden impulse seized me to visit Thrushcross Grange. It was scarcely noon, and I conceived that I might as well pass the night under my own roof as in an inn. Besides, I could spare a day easily to arrange matters with my landlord, and thus save myself the trouble of invading the neighbourhood again. Having rested awhile, I directed my servant to inquire the way to the village; and, with great fatigue to our beasts, we managed the distance in some three hours. I left him there, and proceeded down the valley alone. The grey church looked greyer, and the lonely churchyard lonelier. I distinguished a moor-sheep cropping the short turf on the graves. It was sweet, warm weather too warm for travelling; but the heat did not hinder me from enjoying the delightful scenery above and below: had I seen it nearer August, I’m sure it would have tempted me to waste a month among its solitudes. In winter nothing more dreary, in summer nothing more divine, than those glens shut in by hills, and those bluff, bold swells of heath. I reached the Grange before sunset, and knocked for admittance; but the family had retreated into the back premises, I judged, by one thin, blue wreath, curling from the kitchen chimney, and they did not hear. I rode into the court. Under the porch, a girl of nine or ten sat knitting, and an old woman reclined on the housesteps, smoking a meditative pipe. ‘Is Mrs. Dean within?’ I demanded of the dame. ‘Mistress Dean? Nay!’ she answered, ‘she doesn’t bide here: shoo’s up at th’ Heights.’ ‘Are you the housekeeper, then?’ I continued. ‘Eea, aw keep th’ hause,’ she replied. ‘Well, I’m Mr. Lockwood, the master. Are there any rooms to lodge me in, I wonder? I wish to stay all night.’ ‘T’ maister!’ she cried in astonishment. ‘Whet, whoiver knew yah wur coming? Yah sud ha’ send word. They’s nowt norther dry nor mensful abaht t’ place: nowt there isn’t!’ She threw down her pipe and bustled in, the girl followed, and I entered too; soon perceiving that her report was true, and, moreover, that I had almost upset her wits by my unwelcome apparition, I bade her be composed. I would go out for a walk; and, meantime she must try to prepare a corner of a sitting-room for me to sup in, and a bedroom to sleep in. No sweeping and dusting, only good fire and dry sheets were necessary. She seemed willing to do her best; though she thrust the hearth-brush into the grates in mistake for the poker, and malappropriated several other articles of her craft: but I retired, confiding in her energy for a resting-place against my return. Wuthering Heights was the goal of my proposed excursion. An afterthought brought me back, when I had quitted the court. ‘All well at the Heights?’ I inquired of the woman. ‘Eea, f’r owt ee knaw!’ she answered, skurrying away with a pan of hot cinders. I would have asked why Mrs. Dean had deserted the Grange, but it was impossible to delay her at such a crisis, so I turned away and made my exit, rambling leisurely along, with the glow of a sinking sun behind, and the mild glory of a rising moon in front one fading, and the other brightening as I quitted the park, and climbed the stony by-road branching off to Mr. Heathcliff’s dwelling. Before I arrived in sight of it, all that remained of day was a beamless amber light along the west: but I could see every pebble on the path, and every blade of grass, by that splendid moon. I had neither to climb the gate nor to knock it yielded to my hand. That is an improvement, I thought. And I noticed another, by the aid of my nostrils; a fragrance of stocks and wallflowers wafted on the air from amongst the homely fruittrees. Both doors and lattices were open; and yet, as is usually the case in a coal-district, a fine red fire illumined the chimney: the comfort which the eye derives from it renders the extra heat endurable. But the house of Wuthering Heights is so large that the inmates have plenty of space for withdrawing out of its influence; and accordingly what inmates there were had stationed themselves not far from one of the windows. I could both see them and hear them talk before I entered, and looked and listened in consequence; being moved thereto by a mingled sense of curiosity and envy, that grew as I lingered. ‘Con-TRARY!’ said a voice as sweet as a silver bell. ‘That for the third time, you dunce! I’m not going to tell you again. Recollect, or I’ll pull your hair!’ ‘Contrary, then,’ answered another, in deep but softened tones. ‘And now, kiss me, for minding so well.’ ‘No, read it over first correctly, without a single mistake.’ The male speaker began to read: he was a young man, respectably dressed and seated at a table, having a book before him. His handsome features glowed with pleasure, and his eyes kept impatiently wandering from the page to a small white hand over his shoulder, which recalled him by a smart slap on the cheek, whenever its owner detected such signs of inattention. Its owner stood behind; her light, shining ringlets blending, at intervals, with his brown looks, as she bent to superintend his studies; and her face it was lucky he could not see her face, or he would never have been so steady. I could; and I bit my lip in spite, at having thrown away the chance I might have had of doing something besides staring at its smiting beauty. The task was done, not free from further blunders; but the pupil claimed a reward, and received at least five kisses; which, however, he generously returned. Then they came to the door, and from their conversation I judged they were about to issue out and have a walk on the moors. I supposed I should be condemned in Hareton Earnshaw’s heart, if not by his mouth, to the lowest pit in the infernal regions if I showed my unfortunate person in his neighbourhood then; and feeling very mean and malignant, I skulked round to seek refuge in the kitchen. There was unobstructed admittance on that side also; and at the door sat my old friend Nelly Dean, sewing and singing a song; which was often interrupted from within by harsh words of scorn and intolerance, uttered in far from musical accents. ‘I’d rayther, by th’ haulf, hev’ ‘em swearing i’ my lugs fro’h morn to neeght, nor hearken ye hahsiver!’ said the tenant of the kitchen, in answer to an unheard speech of Nelly’s. ‘It’s a blazing shame, that I cannot oppen t’ blessed Book, but yah set up them glories to sattan, and all t’ flaysome wickednesses that iver were born into th’ warld! ye’re a raight nowt; and shoo’s another; and that poor lad ‘ll be lost atween ye. Poor lad!’ he added, with a groan; ‘he’s witched: I’m sartin on’t. Oh, Lord, judge ‘em, for there’s norther law nor justice among wer rullers!’ ‘No! or we should be sitting in flaming fagots, I suppose,’ retorted the singer. ‘But wisht, old man, and read your Bible like a Christian, and never mind me. This is ‘Fairy Annie’s Wedding’ a bonny tune it goes to a dance.’ Mrs. Dean was about to recommence, when I advanced; and recognising me directly, she jumped to her feet, crying ‘Why, bless you, Mr. Lockwood! How could you think of returning in this way? All’s shut up at Thrushcross Grange. You should have given us notice!’ ‘I’ve arranged to be accommodated there, for as long as I shall stay,’ I answered. ‘I depart again to-morrow. And how are you transplanted here, Mrs. Dean? tell me that.’ ‘Zillah left, and Mr. Heathcliff wished me to come, soon after you went to London, and stay till you returned. But, step in, pray! Have you walked from Gimmerton this evening?’ ‘From the Grange,’ I replied; ‘and while they make me lodging room there, I want to finish my business with your master; because I don’t think of having another opportunity in a hurry.’ ‘What business, sir?’ said Nelly, conducting me into the house. ‘He’s gone out at present, and won’t return soon.’ ‘About the rent,’ I answered. ‘Oh! then it is with Mrs. Heathcliff you must settle,’ she observed; ‘or rather with me. She has not learnt to manage her affairs yet, and I act for her: there’s nobody else.’ I looked surprised. ‘Ah! you have not heard of Heathcliff’s death, I see,’ she continued. ‘Heathcliff dead!’ I exclaimed, astonished. ‘How long ago?’ ‘Three months since: but sit down, and let me take your hat, and I’ll tell you all about it. Stop, you have had nothing to eat, have you?’ ‘I want nothing: I have ordered supper at home. You sit down too. I never dreamt of his dying! Let me hear how it came to pass. You say you don’t expect them back for some time the young people?’ ‘No I have to scold them every evening for their late rambles: but they don’t care for me. At least, have a drink of our old ale; it will do you good: you seem weary.’ She hastened to fetch it before I could refuse, and I heard Joseph asking whether ‘it warn’t a crying scandal that she should have followers at her time of life? And then, to get them jocks out o’ t’ maister’s cellar! He fair shaamed to ‘bide still and see it.’ She did not stay to retaliate, but re-entered in a minute, bearing a reaming silver pint, whose contents I lauded with becoming earnestness. And afterwards she furnished me with the sequel of Heathcliff’s history. He had a ‘queer’ end, as she expressed it. I was summoned to Wuthering Heights, within a fortnight of your leaving us, she said; and I obeyed joyfully, for Catherine’s sake. My first interview with her grieved and shocked me: she had altered so much since our separation. Mr. Heathcliff did not explain his reasons for taking a new mind about my coming here; he only told me he wanted me, and he was tired of seeing Catherine: I must make the little parlour my sitting-room, and keep her with me. It was enough if he were obliged to see her once or twice a day. She seemed pleased at this arrangement; and, by degrees, I smuggled over a great number of books, and other articles, that had formed her amusement at the Grange; and flattered myself we should get on in tolerable comfort. The delusion did not last long. Catherine, contented at first, in a brief space grew irritable and restless. For one thing, she was forbidden to move out of the garden, and it fretted her sadly to be confined to its narrow bounds as spring drew on; for another, in following the house, I was forced to quit her frequently, and she complained of loneliness: she preferred quarrelling with Joseph in the kitchen to sitting at peace in her solitude. I did not mind their skirmishes: but Hareton was often obliged to seek the kitchen also, when the master wanted to have the house to himself! and though in the beginning she either left it at his approach, or quietly joined in my occupations, and shunned remarking or addressing him and though he was always as sullen and silent as possible after a while, she changed her behaviour, and became incapable of letting him alone: talking at him; commenting on his stupidity and idleness; expressing her wonder how he could endure the life he lived how he could sit a whole evening staring into the fire, and dozing. ‘He’s just like a dog, is he not, Ellen?’ she once observed, ‘or a cart-horse? He does his work, eats his food, and sleeps eternally! What a blank, dreary mind he must have! Do you ever dream, Hareton? And, if you do, what is it about? But you can’t speak to me!’ Then she looked at him; but he would neither open his mouth nor look again. ‘He’s, perhaps, dreaming now,’ she continued. ‘He twitched his shoulder as Juno twitches hers. Ask him, Ellen.’ ‘Mr. Hareton will ask the master to send you up-stairs, if you don’t behave!’ I said. He had not only twitched his shoulder but clenched his fist, as if tempted to use it. ‘I know why Hareton never speaks, when I am in the kitchen,’ she exclaimed, on another occasion. ‘He is afraid I shall laugh at him. Ellen, what do you think? He began to teach himself to read once; and, because I laughed, he burned his books, and dropped it: was he not a fool?’ ‘Were not you naughty?’ I said; ‘answer me that.’ ‘Perhaps I was,’ she went on; ‘but I did not expect him to be so silly. Hareton, if I gave you a book, would you take it now? I’ll try!’ She placed one she had been perusing on his hand; he flung it off, and muttered, if she did not give over, he would break her neck. ‘Well, I shall put it here,’ she said, ‘in the table-drawer; and I’m going to bed.’ Then she whispered me to watch whether he touched it, and departed. But he would not come near it; and so I informed her in the morning, to her great disappointment. I saw she was sorry for his persevering sulkiness and indolence: her conscience reproved her for frightening him off improving himself: she had done it effectually. But her ingenuity was at work to remedy the injury: while I ironed, or pursued other such stationary employments as I could not well do in the parlour, she would bring some pleasant volume and read it aloud to me. When Hareton was there, she generally paused in an interesting part, and left the book lying about: that she did repeatedly; but he was as obstinate as a mule, and, instead of snatching at her bait, in wet weather he took to smoking with Joseph; and they sat like automatons, one on each side of the fire, the elder happily too deaf to understand her wicked nonsense, as he would have called it, the younger doing his best to seem to disregard it. On fine evenings the latter followed his shooting expeditions, and Catherine yawned and sighed, and teased me to talk to her, and ran off into the court or garden the moment I began; and, as a last resource, cried, and said she was tired of living: her life was useless. Mr. Heathcliff, who grew more and more disinclined to society, had almost banished Earnshaw from his apartment. Owing to an accident at the commencement of March, he became for some days a fixture in the kitchen. His gun burst while out on the hills by himself; a splinter cut his arm, and he lost a good deal of blood before he could reach home. The consequence was that, perforce, he was condemned to the fireside and tranquillity, till he made it up again. It suited Catherine to have him there: at any rate, it made her hate her room up-stairs more than ever: and she would compel me to find out business below, that she might accompany me. On Easter Monday, Joseph went to Gimmerton fair with some cattle; and, in the afternoon, I was busy getting up linen in the kitchen. Earnshaw sat, morose as usual, at the chimney corner, and my little mistress was beguiling an idle hour with drawing pictures on the window-panes, varying her amusement by smothered bursts of songs, and whispered ejaculations, and quick glances of annoyance and impatience in the direction of her cousin, who steadfastly smoked, and looked into the grate. At a notice that I could do with her no longer intercepting my light, she removed to the hearthstone. I bestowed little attention on her proceedings, but, presently, I heard her begin ‘I’ve found out, Hareton, that I want that I’m glad that I should like you to be my cousin now, if you had not grown so cross to me, and so rough.’ Hareton returned no answer. ‘Hareton, Hareton, Hareton! do you hear?’ she continued. ‘Get off wi’ ye!’ he growled, with uncompromising gruffness. ‘Let me take that pipe,’ she said, cautiously advancing her hand and abstracting it from his mouth. Before he could attempt to recover it, it was broken, and behind the fire. He swore at her and seized another. ‘Stop,’ she cried, ‘you must listen to me first; and I can’t speak while those clouds are floating in my face.’ ‘Will you go to the devil!’ he exclaimed, ferociously, ‘and let me be!’ ‘No,’ she persisted, ‘I won’t: I can’t tell what to do to make you talk to me; and you are determined not to understand. When I call you stupid, I don’t mean anything: I don’t mean that I despise you. Come, you shall take notice of me, Hareton: you are my cousin, and you shall own me.’ ‘I shall have naught to do wi’ you and your mucky pride, and your damned mocking tricks!’ he answered. ‘I’ll go to hell, body and soul, before I look sideways after you again. Side out o’ t’ gate, now, this minute!’ Catherine frowned, and retreated to the window-seat chewing her lip, and endeavouring, by humming an eccentric tune, to conceal a growing tendency to sob. ‘You should be friends with your cousin, Mr. Hareton,’ I interrupted, ‘since she repents of her sauciness. It would do you a great deal of good: it would make you another man to have her for a companion.’ ‘A companion!’ he cried; ‘when she hates me, and does not think me fit to wipe her shoon! Nay, if it made me a king, I’d not be scorned for seeking her good-will any more.’ ‘It is not I who hate you, it is you who hate me!’ wept Cathy, no longer disguising her trouble. ‘You hate me as much as Mr. Heathcliff does, and more.’ ‘You’re a damned liar,’ began Earnshaw: ‘why have I made him angry, by taking your part, then, a hundred times? and that when you sneered at and despised me, and Go on plaguing me, and I’ll step in yonder, and say you worried me out of the kitchen!’ ‘I didn’t know you took my part,’ she answered, drying her eyes; ‘and I was miserable and bitter at everybody; but now I thank you, and beg you to forgive me: what can I do besides?’ She returned to the hearth, and frankly extended her hand. He blackened and scowled like a thunder-cloud, and kept his fists resolutely clenched, and his gaze fixed on the ground. Catherine, by instinct, must have divined it was obdurate perversity, and not dislike, that prompted this dogged conduct; for, after remaining an instant undecided, she stooped and impressed on his cheek a gentle kiss. The little rogue thought I had not seen her, and, drawing back, she took her former station by the window, quite demurely. I shook my head reprovingly, and then she blushed and whispered ‘Well! what should I have done, Ellen? He wouldn’t shake hands, and he wouldn’t look: I must show him some way that I like him that I want to be friends.’ Whether the kiss convinced Hareton, I cannot tell: he was very careful, for some minutes, that his face should not be seen, and when he did raise it, he was sadly puzzled where to turn his eyes. Catherine employed herself in wrapping a handsome book neatly in white paper, and having tied it with a bit of ribbon, and addressed it to ‘Mr. Hareton Earnshaw,’ she desired me to be her ambassadress, and convey the present to its destined recipient. ‘And tell him, if he’ll take it, I’ll come and teach him to read it right,’ she said; ‘and, if he refuse it, I’ll go upstairs, and never tease him again.’ I carried it, and repeated the message; anxiously watched by my employer. Hareton would not open his fingers, so I laid it on his knee. He did not strike it off, either. I returned to my work. Catherine leaned her head and arms on the table, till she heard the slight rustle of the covering being removed; then she stole away, and quietly seated herself beside her cousin. He trembled, and his face glowed: all his rudeness and all his surly harshness had deserted him: he could not summon courage, at first, to utter a syllable in reply to her questioning look, and her murmured petition. ‘Say you forgive me, Hareton, do. You can make me so happy by speaking that little word.’ He muttered something inaudible. ‘And you’ll be my friend?’ added Catherine, interrogatively. ‘Nay, you’ll be ashamed of me every day of your life,’ he answered; ‘and the more ashamed, the more you know me; and I cannot bide it.’ ‘So you won’t be my friend?’ she said, smiling as sweet as honey, and creeping close up. I overheard no further distinguishable talk, but, on looking round again, I perceived two such radiant countenances bent over the page of the accepted book, that I did not doubt the treaty had been ratified on both sides; and the enemies were, thenceforth, sworn allies. The work they studied was full of costly pictures; and those and their position had charm enough to keep them unmoved till Joseph came home. He, poor man, was perfectly aghast at the spectacle of Catherine seated on the same bench with Hareton Earnshaw, leaning her hand on his shoulder; and confounded at his favourite’s endurance of her proximity: it affected him too deeply to allow an observation on the subject that night. His emotion was only revealed by the immense sighs he drew, as he solemnly spread his large Bible on the table, and overlaid it with dirty bank-notes from his pocket-book, the produce of the day’s transactions. At length he summoned Hareton from his seat. ‘Tak’ these in to t’ maister, lad,’ he said, ‘and bide there. I’s gang up to my own rahm. This hoile’s neither mensful nor seemly for us: we mun side out and seearch another.’ ‘Come, Catherine,’ I said, ‘we must ‘side out’ too: I’ve done my ironing. Are you ready to go?’ ‘It is not eight o’clock!’ she answered, rising unwillingly. ‘Hareton, I’ll leave this book upon the chimney-piece, and I’ll bring some more to-morrow.’ ‘Ony books that yah leave, I shall tak’ into th’ hahse,’ said Joseph, ‘and it’ll be mitch if yah find ‘em agean; soa, yah may plase yerseln!’ Cathy threatened that his library should pay for hers; and, smiling as she passed Hareton, went singing up-stairs: lighter of heart, I venture to say, than ever she had been under that roof before; except, perhaps, during her earliest visits to Linton. The intimacy thus commenced grew rapidly; though it encountered temporary interruptions. Earnshaw was not to be civilized with a wish, and my young lady was no philosopher, and no paragon of patience; but both their minds tending to the same point one loving and desiring to esteem, and the other loving and desiring to be esteemed they contrived in the end to reach it. You see, Mr. Lockwood, it was easy enough to win Mrs. Heathcliff’s heart. But now, I’m glad you did not try. The crown of all my wishes will be the union of those two. I shall envy no one on their wedding day: there won’t be a happier woman than myself in England! Chapter XXXIII ON the morrow of that Monday, Earnshaw being still unable to follow his ordinary employments, and therefore remaining about the house, I speedily found it would be impracticable to retain my charge beside me, as heretofore. She got downstairs before me, and out into the garden, where she had seen her cousin performing some easy work; and when I went to bid them come to breakfast, I saw she had persuaded him to clear a large space of ground from currant and gooseberry bushes, and they were busy planning together an importation of plants from the Grange. I was terrified at the devastation which had been accomplished in a brief half-hour; the black-currant trees were the apple of Joseph’s eye, and she had just fixed her choice of a flower-bed in the midst of them. ‘There! That will be all shown to the master,’ I exclaimed, ‘the minute it is discovered. And what excuse have you to offer for taking such liberties with the garden? We shall have a fine explosion on the head of it: see if we don’t! Mr. Hareton, I wonder you should have no more wit than to go and make that mess at her bidding!’ ‘I’d forgotten they were Joseph’s,’ answered Earnshaw, rather puzzled; ‘but I’ll tell him I did it.’ We always ate our meals with Mr. Heathcliff. I held the mistress’s post in making tea and carving; so I was indispensable at table. Catherine usually sat by me, but to-day she stole nearer to Hareton; and I presently saw she would have no more discretion in her friendship than she had in her hostility. ‘Now, mind you don’t talk with and notice your cousin too much,’ were my whispered instructions as we entered the room. ‘It will certainly annoy Mr. Heathcliff, and he’ll be mad at you both.’ ‘I’m not going to,’ she answered. The minute after, she had sidled to him, and was sticking primroses in his plate of porridge. He dared not speak to her there: he dared hardly look; and yet she went on teasing, till he was twice on the point of being provoked to laugh. I frowned, and then she glanced towards the master: whose mind was occupied on other subjects than his company, as his countenance evinced; and she grew serious for an instant, scrutinizing him with deep gravity. Afterwards she turned, and recommenced her nonsense; at last, Hareton uttered a smothered laugh. Mr. Heathcliff started; his eye rapidly surveyed our faces, Catherine met it with her accustomed look of nervousness and yet defiance, which he abhorred. ‘It is well you are out of my reach,’ he exclaimed. ‘What fiend possesses you to stare back at me, continually, with those infernal eyes? Down with them! and don’t remind me of your existence again. I thought I had cured you of laughing.’ ‘It was me,’ muttered Hareton. ‘What do you say?’ demanded the master. Hareton looked at his plate, and did not repeat the confession. Mr. Heathcliff looked at him a bit, and then silently resumed his breakfast and his interrupted musing. We had nearly finished, and the two young people prudently shifted wider asunder, so I anticipated no further disturbance during that sitting: when Joseph appeared at the door, revealing by his quivering lip and furious eyes that the outrage committed on his precious shrubs was detected. He must have seen Cathy and her cousin about the spot before he examined it, for while his jaws worked like those of a cow chewing its cud, and rendered his speech difficult to understand, he began:- ‘I mun hev’ my wage, and I mun goa! I HED aimed to dee wheare I’d sarved fur sixty year; and I thowt I’d lug my books up into t’ garret, and all my bits o’ stuff, and they sud hev’ t’ kitchen to theirseln; for t’ sake o’ quietness. It wur hard to gie up my awn hearthstun, but I thowt I COULD do that! But nah, shoo’s taan my garden fro’ me, and by th’ heart, maister, I cannot stand it! Yah may bend to th’ yoak an ye will I noan used to ‘t, and an old man doesn’t sooin get used to new barthens. I’d rayther arn my bite an’ my sup wi’ a hammer in th’ road!’ ‘Now, now, idiot!’ interrupted Heathcliff, ‘cut it short! What’s your grievance? I’ll interfere in no quarrels between you and Nelly. She may thrust you into the coal-hole for anything I care.’ ‘It’s noan Nelly!’ answered Joseph. ‘I sudn’t shift for Nelly nasty ill nowt as shoo is. Thank God! SHOO cannot stale t’ sowl o’ nob’dy! Shoo wer niver soa handsome, but what a body mud look at her ‘bout winking. It’s yon flaysome, graceless quean, that’s witched our lad, wi’ her bold een and her forrard ways till Nay! it fair brusts my heart! He’s forgotten all I’ve done for him, and made on him, and goan and riven up a whole row o’ t’ grandest currant-trees i’ t’ garden!’ and here he lamented outright; unmanned by a sense of his bitter injuries, and Earnshaw’s ingratitude and dangerous condition. ‘Is the fool drunk?’ asked Mr. Heathcliff. ‘Hareton, is it you he’s finding fault with?’ ‘I’ve pulled up two or three bushes,’ replied the young man; ‘but I’m going to set ‘em again.’ ‘And why have you pulled them up?’ said the master. Catherine wisely put in her tongue. ‘We wanted to plant some flowers there,’ she cried. ‘I’m the only person to blame, for I wished him to do it.’ ‘And who the devil gave YOU leave to touch a stick about the place?’ demanded her father-in-law, much surprised. ‘And who ordered YOU to obey her?’ he added, turning to Hareton. The latter was speechless; his cousin replied ‘You shouldn’t grudge a few yards of earth for me to ornament, when you have taken all my land!’ ‘Your land, insolent slut! You never had any,’ said Heathcliff. ‘And my money,’ she continued; returning his angry glare, and meantime biting a piece of crust, the remnant of her breakfast. ‘Silence!’ he exclaimed. ‘Get done, and begone!’ ‘And Hareton’s land, and his money,’ pursued the reckless thing. ‘Hareton and I are friends now; and I shall tell him all about you!’ The master seemed confounded a moment: he grew pale, and rose up, eyeing her all the while, with an expression of mortal hate. ‘If you strike me, Hareton will strike you,’ she said; ‘so you may as well sit down.’ ‘If Hareton does not turn you out of the room, I’ll strike him to hell,’ thundered Heathcliff. ‘Damnable witch! dare you pretend to rouse him against me? Off with her! Do you hear? Fling her into the kitchen! I’ll kill her, Ellen Dean, if you let her come into my sight again!’ Hareton tried, under his breath, to persuade her to go. ‘Drag her away!’ he cried, savagely. ‘Are you staying to talk?’ And he approached to execute his own command. ‘He’ll not obey you, wicked man, any more,’ said Catherine; ‘and he’ll soon detest you as much as I do.’ ‘Wisht! wisht!’ muttered the young man, reproachfully; ‘I will not hear you speak so to him. Have done.’ ‘But you won’t let him strike me?’ she cried. ‘Come, then,’ he whispered earnestly. It was too late: Heathcliff had caught hold of her. ‘Now, YOU go!’ he said to Earnshaw. ‘Accursed witch! this time she has provoked me when I could not bear it; and I’ll make her repent it for ever!’ He had his hand in her hair; Hareton attempted to release her looks, entreating him not to hurt her that once. Heathcliff’s black eyes flashed; he seemed ready to tear Catherine in pieces, and I was just worked up to risk coming to the rescue, when of a sudden his fingers relaxed; he shifted his grasp from her head to her arm, and gazed intently in her face. Then he drew his hand over his eyes, stood a moment to collect himself apparently, and turning anew to Catherine, said, with assumed calmness ‘You must learn to avoid putting me in a passion, or I shall really murder you some time! Go with Mrs. Dean, and keep with her; and confine your insolence to her ears. As to Hareton Earnshaw, if I see him listen to you, I’ll send him seeking his bread where he can get it! Your love will make him an outcast and a beggar. Nelly, take her; and leave me, all of you! Leave me!’ I led my young lady out: she was too glad of her escape to resist; the other followed, and Mr. Heathcliff had the room to himself till dinner. I had counselled Catherine to dine up-stairs; but, as soon as he perceived her vacant seat, he sent me to call her. He spoke to none of us, ate very little, and went out directly afterwards, intimating that he should not return before evening. The two new friends established themselves in the house during his absence; where I heard Hareton sternly cheek his cousin, on her offering a revelation of her father-in-law’s conduct to his father. He said he wouldn’t suffer a word to be uttered in his disparagement: if he were the devil, it didn’t signify; he would stand by him; and he’d rather she would abuse himself, as she used to, than begin on Mr. Heathcliff. Catherine was waxing cross at this; but he found means to make her hold her tongue, by asking how she would like HIM to speak ill of her father? Then she comprehended that Earnshaw took the master’s reputation home to himself; and was attached by ties stronger than reason could break chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen. She showed a good heart, thenceforth, in avoiding both complaints and expressions of antipathy concerning Heathcliff; and confessed to me her sorrow that she had endeavoured to raise a bad spirit between him and Hareton: indeed, I don’t believe she has ever breathed a syllable, in the latter’s hearing, against her oppressor since. When this slight disagreement was over, they were friends again, and as busy as possible in their several occupations of pupil and teacher. I came in to sit with them, after I had done my work; and I felt so soothed and comforted to watch them, that I did not notice how time got on. You know, they both appeared in a measure my children: I had long been proud of one; and now, I was sure, the other would be a source of equal satisfaction. His honest, warm, and intelligent nature shook off rapidly the clouds of ignorance and degradation in which it had been bred; and Catherine’s sincere commendations acted as a spur to his industry. His brightening mind brightened his features, and added spirit and nobility to their aspect: I could hardly fancy it the same individual I had beheld on the day I discovered my little lady at Wuthering Heights, after her expedition to the Crags. While I admired and they laboured, dusk drew on, and with it returned the master. He came upon us quite unexpectedly, entering by the front way, and had a full view of the whole three, ere we could raise our heads to glance at him. Well, I reflected, there was never a pleasanter, or more harmless sight; and it will be a burning shame to scold them. The red fire-light glowed on their two bonny heads, and revealed their faces animated with the eager interest of children; for, though he was twenty-three and she eighteen, each had so much of novelty to feel and learn, that neither experienced nor evinced the sentiments of sober disenchanted maturity. They lifted their eyes together, to encounter Mr. Heathcliff: perhaps you have never remarked that their eyes are precisely similar, and they are those of Catherine Earnshaw. The present Catherine has no other likeness to her, except a breadth of forehead, and a certain arch of the nostril that makes her appear rather haughty, whether she will or not. With Hareton the resemblance is carried farther: it is singular at all times, THEN it was particularly striking; because his senses were alert, and his mental faculties wakened to unwonted activity. I suppose this resemblance disarmed Mr. Heathcliff: he walked to the hearth in evident agitation; but it quickly subsided as he looked at the young man: or, I should say, altered its character; for it was there yet. He took the book from his hand, and glanced at the open page, then returned it without any observation; merely signing Catherine away: her companion lingered very little behind her, and I was about to depart also, but he bid me sit still. ‘It is a poor conclusion, is it not?’ he observed, having brooded awhile on the scene he had just witnessed: ‘an absurd termination to my violent exertions? I get levers and mattocks to demolish the two houses, and train myself to be capable of working like Hercules, and when everything is ready and in my power, I find the will to lift a slate off either roof has vanished! My old enemies have not beaten me; now would be the precise time to revenge myself on their representatives: I could do it; and none could hinder me. But where is the use? I don’t care for striking: I can’t take the trouble to raise my hand! That sounds as if I had been labouring the whole time only to exhibit a fine trait of magnanimity. It is far from being the case: I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing. ‘Nelly, there is a strange change approaching; I’m in its shadow at present. I take so little interest in my daily life that I hardly remember to eat and drink. Those two who have left the room are the only objects which retain a distinct material appearance to me; and that appearance causes me pain, amounting to agony. About HER I won’t speak; and I don’t desire to think; but I earnestly wish she were invisible: her presence invokes only maddening sensations. HE moves me differently: and yet if I could do it without seeming insane, I’d never see him again! You’ll perhaps think me rather inclined to become so,’ he added, making an effort to smile, ‘if I try to describe the thousand forms of past associations and ideas he awakens or embodies. But you’ll not talk of what I tell you; and my mind is so eternally secluded in itself, it is tempting at last to turn it out to another. ‘Five minutes ago Hareton seemed a personification of my youth, not a human being; I felt to him in such a variety of ways, that it would have been impossible to have accosted him rationally. In the first place, his startling likeness to Catherine connected him fearfully with her. That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least: for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women my own features mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her! Well, Hareton’s aspect was the ghost of my immortal love; of my wild endeavours to hold my right; my degradation, my pride, my happiness, and my anguish - ‘But it is frenzy to repeat these thoughts to you: only it will let you know why, with a reluctance to be always alone, his society is no benefit; rather an aggravation of the constant torment I suffer: and it partly contributes to render me regardless how he and his cousin go on together. I can give them no attention any more.’ ‘But what do you mean by a CHANGE, Mr. Heathcliff?’ I said, alarmed at his manner: though he was neither in danger of losing his senses, nor dying, according to my judgment: he was quite strong and healthy; and, as to his reason, from childhood he had a delight in dwelling on dark things, and entertaining odd fancies. He might have had a monomania on the subject of his departed idol; but on every other point his wits were as sound as mine. ‘I shall not know that till it comes,’ he said; ‘I’m only half conscious of it now.’ ‘You have no feeling of illness, have you?’ I asked. ‘No, Nelly, I have not,’ he answered. ‘Then you are not afraid of death?’ I pursued. ‘Afraid? No!’ he replied. ‘I have neither a fear, nor a presentiment, nor a hope of death. Why should I? With my hard constitution and temperate mode of living, and unperilous occupations, I ought to, and probably SHALL, remain above ground till there is scarcely a black hair on my head. And yet I cannot continue in this condition! I have to remind myself to breathe almost to remind my heart to beat! And it is like bending back a stiff spring: it is by compulsion that I do the slightest act not prompted by one thought; and by compulsion that I notice anything alive or dead, which is not associated with one universal idea. I have a single wish, and my whole being and faculties are yearning to attain it. They have yearned towards it so long, and so unwaveringly, that I’m convinced it will be reached and soon because it has devoured my existence: I am swallowed up in the anticipation of its fulfilment. My confessions have not relieved me; but they may account for some otherwise unaccountable phases of humour which I show. O God! It is a long fight; I wish it were over!’ He began to pace the room, muttering terrible things to himself, till I was inclined to believe, as he said Joseph did, that conscience had turned his heart to an earthly hell. I wondered greatly how it would end. Though he seldom before had revealed this state of mind, even by looks, it was his habitual mood, I had no doubt: he asserted it himself; but not a soul, from his general bearing, would have conjectured the fact. You did not when you saw him, Mr. Lockwood: and at the period of which I speak, he was just the same as then; only fonder of continued solitude, and perhaps still more laconic in company. Chapter XXXIV FOR some days after that evening Mr. Heathcliff shunned meeting us at meals; yet he would not consent formally to exclude Hareton and Cathy. He had an aversion to yielding so completely to his feelings, choosing rather to absent himself; and eating once in twenty-four hours seemed sufficient sustenance for him. One night, after the family were in bed, I heard him go downstairs, and out at the front door. I did not hear him re-enter, and in the morning I found he was still away. We were in April then: the weather was sweet and warm, the grass as green as showers and sun could make it, and the two dwarf apple-trees near the southern wall in full bloom. After breakfast, Catherine insisted on my bringing a chair and sitting with my work under the fir-trees at the end of the house; and she beguiled Hareton, who had perfectly recovered from his accident, to dig and arrange her little garden, which was shifted to that corner by the influence of Joseph’s complaints. I was comfortably revelling in the spring fragrance around, and the beautiful soft blue overhead, when my young lady, who had run down near the gate to procure some primrose roots for a border, returned only half laden, and informed us that Mr. Heathcliff was coming in. ‘And he spoke to me,’ she added, with a perplexed countenance. ‘What did he say?’ asked Hareton. ‘He told me to begone as fast as I could,’ she answered. ‘But he looked so different from his usual look that I stopped a moment to stare at him.’ ‘How?’ he inquired. ‘Why, almost bright and cheerful. No, ALMOST nothing VERY MUCH excited, and wild, and glad!’ she replied. ‘Night-walking amuses him, then,’ I remarked, affecting a careless manner: in reality as surprised as she was, and anxious to ascertain the truth of her statement; for to see the master looking glad would not be an every-day spectacle. I framed an excuse to go in. Heathcliff stood at the open door; he was pale, and he trembled: yet, certainly, he had a strange joyful glitter in his eyes, that altered the aspect of his whole face. ‘Will you have some breakfast?’ I said. ‘You must be hungry, rambling about all night!’ I wanted to discover where he had been, but I did not like to ask directly. ‘No, I’m not hungry,’ he answered, averting his head, and speaking rather contemptuously, as if he guessed I was trying to divine the occasion of his good humour. I felt perplexed: I didn’t know whether it were not a proper opportunity to offer a bit of admonition. ‘I don’t think it right to wander out of doors,’ I observed, ‘instead of being in bed: it is not wise, at any rate this moist season. I daresay you’ll catch a bad cold or a fever: you have something the matter with you now!’ ‘Nothing but what I can bear,’ he replied; ‘and with the greatest pleasure, provided you’ll leave me alone: get in, and don’t annoy me.’ I obeyed: and, in passing, I noticed he breathed as fast as a cat. ‘Yes!’ I reflected to myself, ‘we shall have a fit of illness. I cannot conceive what he has been doing.’ That noon he sat down to dinner with us, and received a heaped-up plate from my hands, as if he intended to make amends for previous fasting. ‘I’ve neither cold nor fever, Nelly,’ he remarked, in allusion to my morning’s speech; ‘and I’m ready to do justice to the food you give me.’ He took his knife and fork, and was going to commence eating, when the inclination appeared to become suddenly extinct. He laid them on the table, looked eagerly towards the window, then rose and went out. We saw him walking to and fro in the garden while we concluded our meal, and Earnshaw said he’d go and ask why he would not dine: he thought we had grieved him some way. ‘Well, is he coming?’ cried Catherine, when her cousin returned. ‘Nay,’ he answered; ‘but he’s not angry: he seemed rarely pleased indeed; only I made him impatient by speaking to him twice; and then he bid me be off to you: he wondered how I could want the company of anybody else.’ I set his plate to keep warm on the fender; and after an hour or two he re-entered, when the room was clear, in no degree calmer: the same unnatural it was unnatural appearance of joy under his black brows; the same bloodless hue, and his teeth visible, now and then, in a kind of smile; his frame shivering, not as one shivers with chill or weakness, but as a tight-stretched cord vibrates a strong thrilling, rather than trembling. I will ask what is the matter, I thought; or who should? And I exclaimed ‘Have you heard any good news, Mr. Heathcliff? You look uncommonly animated.’ ‘Where should good news come from to me?’ he said. ‘I’m animated with hunger; and, seemingly, I must not eat.’ ‘Your dinner is here,’ I returned; ‘why won’t you get it?’ ‘I don’t want it now,’ he muttered, hastily: ‘I’ll wait till supper. And, Nelly, once for all, let me beg you to warn Hareton and the other away from me. I wish to be troubled by nobody: I wish to have this place to myself.’ ‘Is there some new reason for this banishment?’ I inquired. ‘Tell me why you are so queer, Mr. Heathcliff? Where were you last night? I’m not putting the question through idle curiosity, but ‘ ‘You are putting the question through very idle curiosity,’ he interrupted, with a laugh. ‘Yet I’ll answer it. Last night I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me! And now you’d better go! You’ll neither see nor hear anything to frighten you, if you refrain from prying.’ Having swept the hearth and wiped the table, I departed; more perplexed than ever. He did not quit the house again that afternoon, and no one intruded on his solitude; till, at eight o’clock, I deemed it proper, though unsummoned, to carry a candle and his supper to him. He was leaning against the ledge of an open lattice, but not looking out: his face was turned to the interior gloom. The fire had smouldered to ashes; the room was filled with the damp, mild air of the cloudy evening; and so still, that not only the murmur of the beck down Gimmerton was distinguishable, but its ripples and its gurgling over the pebbles, or through the large stones which it could not cover. I uttered an ejaculation of discontent at seeing the dismal grate, and commenced shutting the casements, one after another, till I came to his. ‘Must I close this?’ I asked, in order to rouse him; for he would not stir. The light flashed on his features as I spoke. Oh, Mr. Lockwood, I cannot express what a terrible start I got by the momentary view! Those deep black eyes! That smile, and ghastly paleness! It appeared to me, not Mr. Heathcliff, but a goblin; and, in my terror, I let the candle bend towards the wall, and it left me in darkness. ‘Yes, close it,’ he replied, in his familiar voice. ‘There, that is pure awkwardness! Why did you hold the candle horizontally? Be quick, and bring another.’ I hurried out in a foolish state of dread, and said to Joseph ‘The master wishes you to take him a light and rekindle the fire.’ For I dared not go in myself again just then. Joseph rattled some fire into the shovel, and went: but he brought it back immediately, with the supper-tray in his other hand, explaining that Mr. Heathcliff was going to bed, and he wanted nothing to eat till morning. We heard him mount the stairs directly; he did not proceed to his ordinary chamber, but turned into that with the panelled bed: its window, as I mentioned before, is wide enough for anybody to get through; and it struck me that he plotted another midnight excursion, of which he had rather we had no suspicion. ‘Is he a ghoul or a vampire?’ I mused. I had read of such hideous incarnate demons. And then I set myself to reflect how I had tended him in infancy, and watched him grow to youth, and followed him almost through his whole course; and what absurd nonsense it was to yield to that sense of horror. ‘But where did he come from, the little dark thing, harboured by a good man to his bane?’ muttered Superstition, as I dozed into unconsciousness. And I began, half dreaming, to weary myself with imagining some fit parentage for him; and, repeating my waking meditations, I tracked his existence over again, with grim variations; at last, picturing his death and funeral: of which, all I can remember is, being exceedingly vexed at having the task of dictating an inscription for his monument, and consulting the sexton about it; and, as he had no surname, and we could not tell his age, we were obliged to content ourselves with the single word, ‘Heathcliff.’ That came true: we were. If you enter the kirkyard, you’ll read, on his headstone, only that, and the date of his death. Dawn restored me to common sense. I rose, and went into the garden, as soon as I could see, to ascertain if there were any footmarks under his window. There were none. ‘He has stayed at home,’ I thought, ‘and he’ll be all right to-day.’ I prepared breakfast for the household, as was my usual custom, but told Hareton and Catherine to get theirs ere the master came down, for he lay late. They preferred taking it out of doors, under the trees, and I set a little table to accommodate them. On my re-entrance, I found Mr. Heathcliff below. He and Joseph were conversing about some farming business; he gave clear, minute directions concerning the matter discussed, but he spoke rapidly, and turned his head continually aside, and had the same excited expression, even more exaggerated. When Joseph quitted the room he took his seat in the place he generally chose, and I put a basin of coffee before him. He drew it nearer, and then rested his arms on the table, and looked at the opposite wall, as I supposed, surveying one particular portion, up and down, with glittering, restless eyes, and with such eager interest that he stopped breathing during half a minute together. ‘Come now,’ I exclaimed, pushing some bread against his hand, ‘eat and drink that, while it is hot: it has been waiting near an hour.’ He didn’t notice me, and yet he smiled. I’d rather have seen him gnash his teeth than smile so. ‘Mr. Heathcliff! master!’ I cried, ‘don’t, for God’s sake, stare as if you saw an unearthly vision.’ ‘Don’t, for God’s sake, shout so loud,’ he replied. ‘Turn round, and tell me, are we by ourselves?’ ‘Of course,’ was my answer; ‘of course we are.’ Still, I involuntarily obeyed him, as if I was not quite sure. With a sweep of his hand he cleared a vacant space in front among the breakfast things, and leant forward to gaze more at his ease. Now, I perceived he was not looking at the wall; for when I regarded him alone, it seemed exactly that he gazed at something within two yards’ distance. And whatever it was, it communicated, apparently, both pleasure and pain in exquisite extremes: at least the anguished, yet raptured, expression of his countenance suggested that idea. The fancied object was not fixed, either: his eyes pursued it with unwearied diligence, and, even in speaking to me, were never weaned away. I vainly reminded him of his protracted abstinence from food: if he stirred to touch anything in compliance with my entreaties, if he stretched his hand out to get a piece of bread, his fingers clenched before they reached it, and remained on the table, forgetful of their aim. I sat, a model of patience, trying to attract his absorbed attention from its engrossing speculation; till he grew irritable, and got up, asking why I would not allow him to have his own time in taking his meals? and saying that on the next occasion I needn’t wait: I might set the things down and go. Having uttered these words he left the house, slowly sauntered down the garden path, and disappeared through the gate. The hours crept anxiously by: another evening came. I did not retire to rest till late, and when I did, I could not sleep. He returned after midnight, and, instead of going to bed, shut himself into the room beneath. I listened, and tossed about, and, finally, dressed and descended. It was too irksome to lie there, harassing my brain with a hundred idle misgivings. I distinguished Mr. Heathcliff’s step, restlessly measuring the floor, and he frequently broke the silence by a deep inspiration, resembling a groan. He muttered detached words also; the only one I could catch was the name of Catherine, coupled with some wild term of endearment or suffering; and spoken as one would speak to a person present; low and earnest, and wrung from the depth of his soul. I had not courage to walk straight into the apartment; but I desired to divert him from his reverie, and therefore fell foul of the kitchen fire, stirred it, and began to scrape the cinders. It drew him forth sooner than I expected. He opened the door immediately, and said ‘Nelly, come here is it morning? Come in with your light.’ ‘It is striking four,’ I answered. ‘You want a candle to take upstairs: you might have lit one at this fire.’ ‘No, I don’t wish to go up-stairs,’ he said. ‘Come in, and kindle ME a fire, and do anything there is to do about the room.’ ‘I must blow the coals red first, before I can carry any,’ I replied, getting a chair and the bellows He roamed to and fro, meantime, in a state approaching distraction; his heavy sighs succeeding each other so thick as to leave no space for common breathing between. ‘When day breaks I’ll send for Green,’ he said; ‘I wish to make some legal inquiries of him while I can bestow a thought on those matters, and while I can act calmly. I have not written my will yet; and how to leave my property I cannot determine. I wish I could annihilate it from the face of the earth.’ ‘I would not talk so, Mr. Heathcliff,’ I interposed. ‘Let your will be a while: you’ll be spared to repent of your many injustices yet! I never expected that your nerves would be disordered: they are, at present, marvellously so, however; and almost entirely through your own fault. The way you’ve passed these three last days might knock up a Titan. Do take some food, and some repose. You need only look at yourself in a glass to see how you require both. Your cheeks are hollow, and your eyes bloodshot, like a person starving with hunger and going blind with loss of sleep.’ ‘It is not my fault that I cannot eat or rest,’ he replied. ‘I assure you it is through no settled designs. I’ll do both, as soon as I possibly can. But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water rest within arms’ length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I’ll rest. Well, never mind Mr. Green: as to repenting of my injustices, I’ve done no injustice, and I repent of nothing. I’m too happy; and yet I’m not happy enough. My soul’s bliss kills my body, but does not satisfy itself.’ ‘Happy, master?’ I cried. ‘Strange happiness! If you would hear me without being angry, I might offer some advice that would make you happier.’ ‘What is that?’ he asked. ‘Give it.’ ‘You are aware, Mr. Heathcliff,’ I said, ‘that from the time you were thirteen years old you have lived a selfish, unchristian life; and probably hardly had a Bible in your hands during all that period. You must have forgotten the contents of the book, and you may not have space to search it now. Could it be hurtful to send for some one some minister of any denomination, it does not matter which to explain it, and show you how very far you have erred from its precepts; and how unfit you will be for its heaven, unless a change takes place before you die?’ ‘I’m rather obliged than angry, Nelly,’ he said, ‘for you remind me of the manner in which I desire to be buried. It is to be carried to the churchyard in the evening. You and Hareton may, if you please, accompany me: and mind, particularly, to notice that the sexton obeys my directions concerning the two coffins! No minister need come; nor need anything be said over me. I tell you I have nearly attained MY heaven; and that of others is altogether unvalued and uncovered by me.’ ‘And supposing you persevered in your obstinate fast, and died by that means, and they refused to bury you in the precincts of the kirk?’ I said, shocked at his godless indifference. ‘How would you like it?’ ‘They won’t do that,’ he replied: ‘if they did, you must have me removed secretly; and if you neglect it you shall prove, practically, that the dead are not annihilated!’ As soon as he heard the other members of the family stirring he retired to his den, and I breathed freer. But in the afternoon, while Joseph and Hareton were at their work, he came into the kitchen again, and, with a wild look, bid me come and sit in the house: he wanted somebody with him. I declined; telling him plainly that his strange talk and manner frightened me, and I had neither the nerve nor the will to be his companion alone. ‘I believe you think me a fiend,’ he said, with his dismal laugh: ‘something too horrible to live under a decent roof.’ Then turning to Catherine, who was there, and who drew behind me at his approach, he added, half sneeringly, ‘Will YOU come, chuck? I’ll not hurt you. to you I’ve made myself worse than the devil. Well, there is ONE who won’t shrink from my company! By God! she’s relentless. Oh, damn it! It’s unutterably too much for flesh and blood to bear even mine.’ He solicited the society of no one more. At dusk he went into his chamber. Through the whole night, and far into the morning, we heard him groaning and murmuring to himself. Hareton was anxious to enter; but I bid him fetch Mr. Kenneth, and he should go in and see him. When he came, and I requested admittance and tried to open the door, I found it locked; and Heathcliff bid us be damned. He was better, and would be left alone; so the doctor went away. The following evening was very wet: indeed, it poured down till day-dawn; and, as I took my morning walk round the house, I observed the master’s window swinging open, and the rain driving straight in. He cannot be in bed, I thought: those showers would drench him through. He must either be up or out. But I’ll make no more ado, I’ll go boldly and look.’ Having succeeded in obtaining entrance with another key, I ran to unclose the panels, for the chamber was vacant; quickly pushing them aside, I peeped in. Mr. Heathcliff was there laid on his back. His eyes met mine so keen and fierce, I started; and then he seemed to smile. I could not think him dead: but his face and throat were washed with rain; the bed-clothes dripped, and he was perfectly still. The lattice, flapping to and fro, had grazed one hand that rested on the sill; no blood trickled from the broken skin, and when I put my fingers to it, I could doubt no more: he was dead and stark! I hasped the window; I combed his black long hair from his forehead; I tried to close his eyes: to extinguish, if possible, that frightful, life-like gaze of exultation before any one else beheld it. They would not shut: they seemed to sneer at my attempts; and his parted lips and sharp white teeth sneered too! Taken with another fit of cowardice, I cried out for Joseph. Joseph shuffled up and made a noise, but resolutely refused to meddle with him. ‘Th’ divil’s harried off his soul,’ he cried, ‘and he may hev’ his carcass into t’ bargin, for aught I care! Ech! what a wicked ‘un he looks, girning at death!’ and the old sinner grinned in mockery. I thought he intended to cut a caper round the bed; but suddenly composing himself, he fell on his knees, and raised his hands, and returned thanks that the lawful master and the ancient stock were restored to their rights. I felt stunned by the awful event; and my memory unavoidably recurred to former times with a sort of oppressive sadness. But poor Hareton, the most wronged, was the only one who really suffered much. He sat by the corpse all night, weeping in bitter earnest. He pressed its hand, and kissed the sarcastic, savage face that every one else shrank from contemplating; and bemoaned him with that strong grief which springs naturally from a generous heart, though it be tough as tempered steel. Mr. Kenneth was perplexed to pronounce of what disorder the master died. I concealed the fact of his having swallowed nothing for four days, fearing it might lead to trouble, and then, I am persuaded, he did not abstain on purpose: it was the consequence of his strange illness, not the cause. We buried him, to the scandal of the whole neighbourhood, as he wished. Earnshaw and I, the sexton, and six men to carry the coffin, comprehended the whole attendance. The six men departed when they had let it down into the grave: we stayed to see it covered. Hareton, with a streaming face, dug green sods, and laid them over the brown mould himself: at present it is as smooth and verdant as its companion mounds and I hope its tenant sleeps as soundly. But the country folks, if you ask them, would swear on the Bible that he WALKS: there are those who speak to having met him near the church, and on the moor, and even within this house. Idle tales, you’ll say, and so say I. Yet that old man by the kitchen fire affirms he has seen two on ‘em looking out of his chamber window on every rainy night since his death:and an odd thing happened to me about a month ago. I was going to the Grange one evening a dark evening, threatening thunder and, just at the turn of the Heights, I encountered a little boy with a sheep and two lambs before him; he was crying terribly; and I supposed the lambs were skittish, and would not be guided. ‘What is the matter, my little man?’ I asked. ‘There’s Heathcliff and a woman yonder, under t’ nab,’ he blubbered, ‘un’ I darnut pass ‘em.’ I saw nothing; but neither the sheep nor he would go on so I bid him take the road lower down. He probably raised the phantoms from thinking, as he traversed the moors alone, on the nonsense he had heard his parents and companions repeat. Yet, still, I don’t like being out in the dark now; and I don’t like being left by myself in this grim house: I cannot help it; I shall be glad when they leave it, and shift to the Grange. ‘They are going to the Grange, then?’ I said. ‘Yes,’ answered Mrs. Dean, ‘as soon as they are married, and that will be on New Year’s Day.’ ‘And who will live here then?’ ‘Why, Joseph will take care of the house, and, perhaps, a lad to keep him company. They will live in the kitchen, and the rest will be shut up.’ ‘For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it?’ I observed. ‘No, Mr. Lockwood,’ said Nelly, shaking her head. ‘I believe the dead are at peace: but it is not right to speak of them with levity.’ At that moment the garden gate swung to; the ramblers were returning. ‘THEY are afraid of nothing,’ I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. ‘Together, they would brave Satan and all his legions.’ As they stepped on to the door-stones, and halted to take a last look at the moon or, more correctly, at each other by her light I felt irresistibly impelled to escape them again; and, pressing a remembrance into the hand of Mrs. Dean, and disregarding her expostulations at my rudeness, I vanished through the kitchen as they opened the house-door; and so should have confirmed Joseph in his opinion of his fellow-servant’s gay indiscretions, had he not fortunately recognised me for a respectable character by the sweet ring of a sovereign at his feet. My walk home was lengthened by a diversion in the direction of the kirk. When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months: many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted off here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms. I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next the moor: on middle one grey, and half buried in the heath; Edgar Linton’s only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its foot; Heathcliff’s still bare. I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. 24glo.com | Contacts Copyright © 24GLO LTD ® 2004-2021. All rights reserved.
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Kawasaki KLE Croatia forum Off,Off, i samo Off ... topic !! => Trkeljanje o svemu i svačemu => Đonijev literalni kutak !! => Autor teme: Đoni - 23. Prvi dio "Jahači u magli" Prolog Ponekad vam se čini kao "deja vu" ili već viđeno, već viđeno u bezbroj glupih romana i filmova ali je tematika druga. Tematika je ovdje djelovala toliko stvarno i neočekivano za terasu restorana u Opatiji. Pravac Hamburg Referent mi je djelovao slinavo. Kao onaj tip državnog službenika koji se trudi da ugodi svome nadređenom ali ujedno i da mu zabije nož u leđa prvom prigodom, samo kako bi sjeo na njegovu izlizanu stolicu i dojučerašnje kolege gledao sa malo više pozicije. Pogledao me je kroz one socijalne naočale sa plastično metalnim okvirima i klimnuo glavom. "Da rezimiramo diplomirao si prije četiri mjeseca i nisi to prijavio u vojni odsjek dok te nismo pozvali na razgovor?" Jebi ga mogao me puknuti kamo je htio, što mi uostalom nije niti bilo važno za tih godinu dana ali ugodnije je ne izazivati vraga. Malo sam slegao ramenima i nasmiješio se samo krajevima usana tek toliko da djelujem ljubazno, a da debil preko puta mene ne misli da ga ismijavam. Sa tim nižim facama "u službi" bio sam uvijek oprezan, znali su se dići na zadnje noge za najmanju sitnicu. Još mi je samo falilo da prije JNA dobijem epitet "sumnjivi element u samoupravnom socijalizmu", a debilčić u stolici mi ga je mogao uvaliti u dosje, tek toliko da ga zapamtim. "Žao mi je nisam znao da moram čim diplomiram to prijaviti, mislio sam da će fakultet uraditi isto." Lik me pogleda kroz ona svoja stakla vrlo ozbiljno, što nije bio baš dobar znak. "To je tvoja dužnost kao omladinca, ako si uopće omladinac sa dvadeset i šest godina, meni si prije vječni student kojem je naše društvo to omogućilo." Jebi ga sad sam puko, lik ima kompleks više stručne spreme i mrzi sve iznad toga, shebat će me sto posto. Malo sam ponovno pokunjeno slegao ramenima i odmahnuo glavom. "Baka i djed su mi bolesni nemamo baš novca pa se ja moram brinuti o njima, normalno ne mogu na predavanja i fakultet pati." Idiote, zasvijetlio mi reklamni natpis u glavi, smisli nešto originalnije, cijelo susjedstvo zna da ti djed drži pčele i svako jutro vozi bicikl 8 kilometara do tih desetak košnica, a baka kuha sve, od zimnice do slatkog, na štednjaku na drva u dvorištu i uz to sa pet metara mazne krumpirom svaku mačku koja pokuša ukrasti nešto mesa sa stola dok ona cijepa drva. Na stolu uvijek uz put priprema nešto za u pećnicu, tek toliko da drva ne gore samo za peći papriku za ajvar ili kuhati šljive za slatko. Lik me ozbiljno pogleda i klimne glavom. "Je malo je to neugodno kada te muke u obitelji spopadnu. I meni bolesna mama i baka smetale da završim pravo do kraja, pa sam se morao prebaciti na višu upravnu." Pogled upućen nakon te izjave već je djelovao malo mekši. Odmahnuo je glavom. "Ništa pogledat ću gdje da te smjestim ipak si školovan ne mogu te tek tako među ove klince sa zanatom." Kamen mi pade sa srca i razvali koljeno pri padu. "Hvala druže pogotovu na razumijevanju". Lik odmahnu rukom. "Ništa samo radim svoj posao, dobićeš poštom, kada da se javiš i gdje ali ne baš tako brzo, ovi ljetnja klasa su svi pješadija i brdska pješadija za Tolmin u Sloveniji." Ljubazno se nasmiješio. "Ajd sad pa zdravo". "Zdravo i hvala još jedan put". Malo sam se mrzio radi uvlačenja ali ona stara narodna "sila boga ne moli". Vani me je čekao Strela. Sjedio je u hladu, na zidiću pored motora, i motao cigaretu. Dok sam mu prilazio namignuo je. "Gdje su te pukli?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Još ne znam ali se nadam nešto normalno." Liznuo je cigaret papir, omotan oko štapića duhana, zaljepio ga u savršenu cigaretu bez filtera i pružio mi, potom se bacio na motanje nove za sebe. Izvadih stari austrijski benzinski upaljač i zapalih. Zatvorio sam poklopac upaljača uz tipično klik i pružio ga Streli. Upravo je završio cigaretu pa smo skupa dimili bez riječi. Nakon par minuta tišine Strela baci cigaretu na zemlju i ugasi je petom tenisice. "Čuj idemo na piće bolje će biti nakon toga." Klimnuh glavom. "Kod Benny Hilla može?" Nasmiješio se. Zakopčao sam traper jaknu i zajahao svoj MZ 250, Strela je već navukao kacigu i startao svoj ČZ 175. Navukoh svoju istočno Njemačku kacigu i bacih start motora. Pet minuta kasnije provlačili smo se kroz promet glavne ulice u Zemunu pazeći da nas pri prelasku pune crte ne vidi koji "milkan", kako smo u lokalnom žargonu zvali tadašnju miliciju. Ne znam zašto ali dok smo sporo vozili kroz gradsku gužvu na pamet mi je stalno padala Goga. Dok smo stigli do kafića "Benny" stvar je legla na svoje mjesto, bilo mi je jasno. Kafić "Benny" je bio obična rupa u podrumu zgrade, par ulica dalje od dijela u kojem smo stanovali ali je imao specifično uređenje. Stari ručno rađeni drveni stolovi i klupe, kameni pod od sitnih kocki kamena, koji se inače nekada koristio za popločavanje cesti. Uz drveni šank na ručno izrađenoj polici stajala je JVC - HiFi linija i video rekorder koji je bio spojen na veliki Grunding TV. Na zidovima su bili posteri popularnog Benny Hill-a u plastičnim folijama. Četiri velika ručno rađena zvučnika su bila smještena u kutovima prostorije, a dva flipper-a u centru i to je bilo sve. Vlasnik Benny-ja je bio Marko Dileja. Marko je završio primijenjenu matematiku na Elektrotehničkom Fakultetu potom odradio četiri godine u nekom raju od društvene firme kao programer u COBOL-u i pukao. Godinu dana nije radio ništa potom je iznajmio od nekog "kućnog savjeta" podrum sa "higijenskim čvorom" i otvorio kafić. U to doba u Zemunu nije bilo lako držati kafić, uvijek si bio stisnut između onih "malo van zakona" sa jedne strane i milkana koji su ganjali iste sa druge. Marko je imao rješenje. Boca original Johnny Walker-a ispod šanka za druge i čelična cijev i bokser ispod šanka za prve. Znam da je negdje oko 90 te nakon smrti majke otišao u Australiju. Strela je upao prvi smjestio se za stol u kutu, a uz put dobacio Marku: "Daj nam dvije pive i dva normalna konjaka." Mahnuo je glavom prema meni. "Djoni je bio u vojnom odsjeku". Mjehur me mučio još od razgovora u vojnom i odmah sam se uputio u wc. Kada sam se vratio na stolu su bile dvije "Nikšićke" i dva konjaka 0,5. Kod Benny-ja se služila samo Nikšićka piva, po nekim pričama zato jer je Markov otac bio Crnogorac ali bliže istini je bilo zato što mu je bratić radio u Nikšićkoj pivovari. Pogledao sam Strelu u oči i nazdravio konjakom. Ispili smo "na eks". Sada je na redu bilo polako pijuckanje pive i razgovor. Prešao sam direktno na ono što me mučilo. "Slušaj Strela mene pokupe u JNA do prosinca, a ni ti nisi daleko od toga, čim završiš tu tvoju višu zidarsku ideš na dug svojoj domovini". Strela je klimnuo glavom. "Pa što misliš da opalimo put do Hamburga i malo se provedemo. Goga me ionako zvala više puta da navratim kod nje u posjet i eto .. smještaj i hranu imamo samo put? Iskoristimo ovo ljeto." Strela je bio hladnokrvan dečko. Sve što mu kažeš na kratko bi obradio u svojoj glavi i tek potom progovorio. Čekao sam jedan dugi gutljaj prije nego je odgovorio. "Misliš ti ja i Škot?" Spustio sam bocu na stol. "A tko drugi?" Okrenu je svoju bocu sa dva prsta malo u krug. "Bilo bi dobro, nikada nisam bio u Njemačkoj, a ima se tamo što vidjeti i doživjeti." Goga Goga je bila cura iz ulice četiri godine starija od mene. Gordana ili Ćaknuta Goca, kako su je zvale frustrirane "sretno udate" žene iz kvarta. Nije bila neka ljepota ali je bila visoka i zgođušna. Točnije imala je duge noge, pljosnatu zadnjicu i malo veće grudi. Facu joj je krasio specifičan izgled, punije usne na užoj faci i malo veći nos ili ti "kljuka" u žargonu. Imala je specifičan osmjeh i neku čudnu osobnost. Kada je krenula u srednju kemijsku školu, na drugom kraju grada, stari joj je dozvolio da vozi njegov tada već stariji Tomos T12 Kolibri. Moped 49 ccm sa tri brzine i ručnim mjenjačem i to je bilo to. Od početka srednje je nosila vojnu platnenu torbu preko ramena, izlizane traperice i traper jaknu. U školi je nizala samo petake. Kada je bila na trećoj godini spetljala se sa nekim likom sa dugom valovitom kosom. Potomak doseljenika "vlakom bez voznog reda" koji je završio zanat u Novom Sadu i potom prešao raditi u Zemunski Teleoptik. Lik se zvao Dejan i živio je u iznajmljenoj garsonjeri u potkrovlju. Vozio je ČZ Enduro 250, a po kiši starog fiću sa vratima koja su se otvarala sprijeda. Maštao je, u razgovorima, o nečem boljem izuzev rada od osam sati, u tvornici optičkih pomagala, za sitnu lovu. Svirao je gitaru i to uglavnom vesele rock stvari koje je povremeno prekidao sa nešto bluza. Bio je Ok po našim shvaćanjima ali po malograđanskom okruženju, živi promašaj od čovjeka. Goga je bila ludo zaljubljena u istog od prvog dana. Kako mi je kasnije pričala pasalo joj je kako tiho priča tim dubokim glasom oko toga što bi sve mogli uraditi zajedno. Planirana putovanja, koja nikada nisu ostvarili, zajednički život i pažnja koju ona zaslužuje. Goga je u totalu pukla i prebacila se u garsonjeru u potkrovlju, sa zajedničkim WC-om i kupaonom u hodniku. Loše je bilo što Goga još nije imala 18 godina pa je njen stari napravio strašnu frku kada se prebacila živjeti sa Dejanom. Završilo se na način da je milicija obavila svoj posao, a Gogin stari je odvukao istu doma i remenom joj objasnio koga će slušati. Naravno nakon toga je cijela bliža i daljnja okolica, u predgrađu gdje smo živjeli, imala o čemu pričati barem tri mjeseca. Goga nije izlazila iz kuće dva tjedna. Toliko je trebalo da plavice po licu i ramenima nestanu. Drugog tjedna je prije podne, dok joj je stari bio na poslu, stajala i gledala kroz prozor. U starom predgrađu Zemuna sve kuće su građene tako da dva prozora gledaju direktno na pločnik potom slijedi drvored pa cesta. Tako je počelo naše druženje. Prolazio sam na povratku iz "omladinskog Benny-ja" kamo sam tek počeo zalaziti. Djelovala je izgubljeno pa sam joj dobacio jedno toplo: "Heij Goga". Pogledala me i odvratila: "Hei Bambi." To je bilo sve za prvi put. Slijedeći dan sam vozio Pony bicikl do trgovine sa nardžbom za kućne potrebe. Ponovno je gledala kroz prozor vani. Djelovala mi je jadno. Uz sve naručeno za kuću kupio sam i jednu kokos čokoladicu. Kada sam prolazio pored Gogine kuće ista je još bila na prozoru. Zaustavio sam bicikl i ne silazeći upitao. "Kako je?" Nasmiješila mi se malim osmjehom jedva krajevima usana. "Bolje, dok tata ne dođe koristim malo za udahnuti zraka." Gogin tata je bio vrlo strog, kako prema sebi tako i prema drugima. Bio je šef odjela precizne mehanike u "Insi" – tvornici satova. Uvijek na vrijeme na poslu, nikad kasnio, uvijek uredan i ugledan član radničkog savjeta. Kritizirao je dosta okolicu i "novi moral mladih i te betlise". Skraćeno bio je uzoran član društva po mjerilima malograđanskog predgrađa, a i uživao je veliki ugled. Moja obitelj ga je cijenila jedino djed bi ponekada samo odmahnuo glavom. Nešto mu se nije sviđalo kod njega kao ni meni. Pružih Gogi čokoladicu. "Da lakše provedeš ostatak dana." Pogledala je zbunjeno u šarenu foliju, a potom je uzela sa dva prsta i stavila na rub prozora. "Bambi srce si veliko." Zvučala je iskreno toliko iskreno da sam se osjećao ugodno. Na kraju to mi je i bio cilj, oraspoložiti tužnu curu. Klimnuh joj glavom i produljih dalje doma. Još par sati sam se osjećao ugodno kada bi se sjetio Goge, a potom sam zaboravio, jednostavno na crno bijelom tv prijemniku je bio film "Plavi vojnik", jedan od onih koji su pomakli shvaćanje indijanaca u western filmovima, a za dečka od 14 godina "stvarno genijalno". Četiri godine kasnije sam pomogao Gogi da pobjegne od roditelja u Njemačku. Noć i jutro kojih ću se zauvijek sjećati. Poslije smo se dopisivali. Večeras više od trideset godina kasnije dok sjedim na terasi restorana u Opatiji žena koja je upravo ušla izgleda kao Goga. Izgleda kao Goga sa pedeset i šest godina, onakva kakvom bi je mogao uraditi onaj kompjuterski program, u koji uneseš sliku i neke karakteristike kao i broj godina koje prolaze i izbaciti ti kako ćeš izgledati. Boja kose je ista ona koje se sjećam od prije dvadeset i više godina iz Njemačke, kada sam je zadnji put vidio. Vadim cigaretu iz kutije moje nevjenčane žene, odnosno one sa kojom živim već godinama. Začuđeno me gleda već tri mjeseca sam samo na elektroničkoj cigareti. Prati moj pogled i gleda u tu riđokosu ženu koja je upravo stupila nogom, u čipkanoj čarapi i visokoj potpetici, na terasu restorana. Ako je Goga malo se ugojila ali još "drži crtu" i izgleda zgođušno za svoje godine u toj crnoj haljini sa dubokim izrezom sa strane. Isti malo veći nos na uzanom licu, iste punije usne i zelene oči. Mirjana vlasnica restorana je dočekuje kao i sve goste koji mirišu na lovu. Nešto pričaju i odvodi je do stola u kutu gdje sjeda sama. Odvratio sam pogled i zapalio cigaretu. Lidija je očigledno dobro snimila potencijalnu Gogu i utvrdila da je znatno starija i manje zgodna od nje pa ne komentira ništa. Pogledam moju Lidiju i osmjehnem se. "Došlo mi da osjetim i malo katrana u plućima". Klima glavom i ne komentira već uzima čašu plavca i polako ispija gutljaj. Ne znam što raditi. Vuče me da priđem tom stolu i raščistim tko je ta gospođa jednostavnim pitanjem "Oprostite da li ste vi Gordana ...". Sa druge strane što bih rekao Lidiji zašto to radim, a bez veze zvuči ako potencijalna Goga kaže hladno "Žao mi je nisam, pogriješili ste". Još gore djeluje ako kaže "Jesam, a vi ste?". Djeluje najbolje kosture iz ormara ostaviti u ormaru. Osmjehujem se Mirajni dok prolazi i za dvije minute račun je na stolu. Lidija ne pita ništa. Dok idemo zagrljeni prema mojoj staroj škodi pita više polu radoznalo ali ne zainteresirano. "Onu stariju gospođu u crnoj haljini što je upravo došla poznaješ?" Slegnuh ramenima. "Mislim da je znam poslom ali nisam siguran". Lidija odmahnu slobodnom rukom. "Daj malo olabavi, pusti posao i likove koje srećeš tamo. Mislim sada smo nas dvoje i zaboravi te gluposti koje radiš na poslu." Poljubih je i više to nismo spominjali. Dok sam četkao zube u kupaoni ponovno mi je u glavi bila slika žene koja bi mogla biti Goga. Pravac Hamburg Strela se već vratio od šanka gdje je razmijenio par riječi sa Markom dok sam ja pokušavao smotati cigaretu ručno. Ono sa cigaretom što je njemu polazilo glatko za rukom za mene je bila "viša matematika". Ipak je na kraju to sličilo na cigaretu. Prilazeći Strela kritički odmjeri cigaretu. "Treba ti još vježbe da to bude cigareta". Iskreno se smiješio. Ubacio se na stolicu preko puta mene i dohvatio bocu sa ostatkom pive. Kada sam uz "klik" zatvorio upaljač prešao je na stvar. "Ima do Hamburga više od dvije tisuće kilometara. Znači najmanje od najmanjeg tri dana puta, računaj četiri." Polako je smotao sebi cigaretu dok je pričao. "Marko kaže da nema spavanja uz cestu policija ne dopušta ali ima umjetnih jezera sa plažom pa od ujutro od negdje 8 sati do navečer nitko te ne pita da li spavaš na plaži ili ne. Problem drugi lova. Koliko nam treba za to?" Ekipa smo bili Strela, Škot i ja. Sve probleme kako doći do love su uglavnom prepuštali meni. Nitko od nas nije želio "sa one strane zakona" izuzev na nivou prekršaja u stilu "ako te uhvate plati prekršaj i nestani". Duboko sam udahnuo dim cigarete i polako ga ispuhao van. "Najmanje tisuću i pol maraka, svatko od nas ima nešto sačuvano, za dalje imamo samo dva izbora. Tile, ako treba slike za "Borisa" i Fleka kao zadnja šansa". Strela je klimnuo glavom. "Idem nazvati Škota imaš dva dinara da pustim u staklenku?" Prekopah po džepovima i nađoh dvije kovanice od dinar. Položih sitniš na ispruženi dlan. Strela stisnu šaku i zaputi se prema šanku, gdje je bio stari telefon za javnu uporabu, samo si morao ubaciti nešto sitno u staklenku pored istog. Pokupih cigarete i upaljač sa stola i otpih zadnji gutljaj pive. Polako sam došao do šanka i namignuo Marku. Isti opali ko iz topa. "Tri tisuće i šesto", prbacujući u "stare dinare" račun. Pažljivo položih na šank tri puta po deset dinara u papiru i tri kovanice po dva. "Zadrži ostatak". Strela je već završio rzagovor i čekao na kraju šanka. Priđoh mu. "Škot je doma čeka nas." Pet sekundi kasnije bili smo na motorima i prašili tih par ulica do Škota. Dvorišna vrata su već bila otvorena, što je bio pouzdan znak da nas Škot čeka. Polako smo parkirali motore pod trešnjom odmah do Škotove Jawe 350, a na kojoj smo mu zavidjeli. Dok sam ja još petljao sa istočnonjemačkom kacigom Strela je zatvorio vrata i javio se gospođa Marici, Škotovj mami koja je čistila neku ribu na malom stolu u hladu. Iz podrumske prostorije iza nje je dopirala glasna glazba Bronski Beats. Škot je sjedio za starim stolom na svom Comodore 64. Ispred njega je umjesto ekrana bio stari crno bijeli TV. Na zidovima prostorije su bili razni posteri najviše motori, nekoliko postera iz filma Conan 2 dio, prirodno našla se uz iste i Grace Jones, centralni prostor je zauzimao Đoni Štulić. Još prije deset godina roditelji su mu dodijelili jednu od dvije postojeće podrumske prostorije "da tamo vrišti sa svojom ekipom". Lijevo od ulaza u podrum je bila mala prostorija sa wc-om i umivaonikom. Tako je naša ekipa umjesto svojih dječijih soba dobila svoj odvojen prostor. Prostorija je bila uređena na način da je preko pločica na podu bilo bačeno par starih tepiha, na ručno izrađenoj polici je bio smješten stari Receiver "HSR 48" gramofon "Tosca HiFi" i gomila LP ploča. Polica je isto kao i postojeća dva ormara bila ručno obojena u crno. Ormari su bili potpuno različitog izgleda i predstavljali dvije generacije Škotove obitelji. Za sjedenje i izležavanja su korištena dva kauča smještena uza zid naspram ormara i nakrcana sa par jastučića. Škot je samo klimnu i dalje nešto tipkajući, pored njega je bila krcata pepeljara i velika šalica kave, dok smo se nas dvojica polako smjestila što znači da smo skinuli jakne i bacili ih na kauč otvorili jedan od ormara i nasuli si, u staklene čaše od eurokrema, malo Gromovače Škotovog djeda. Strela je smotao cigaretu i ispraznio veliku pepeljaru potom se vratio i smjestio do mene na kauč pepeljaru je položio između nas. Sa jedinog prozora iznad naših glava je dopirala slaba svjetlost ali to nam nije smetalo. Škot je snimio na kazetar onaj program koji je pisao i izvadio drinu bez filtera iz kutije. Polako je otišao do ormara i nasu i sebi malo domaće rakije potom prišao gramofonu i stavio novu LP. Iz zvučnika su krenuli specifični tonovi početka Štulićeve Balkan. Svi smo se pucali na Azru, a ja sam na gitari i znao odsvirati dosta njihovih stvari, tako sam polako umjesto nadimka Bambi zaradio nadimak Đoni. Škot je složio par jastučića na pod uz vrata ormara naspram nas i sa pepeljarom u jednoj ruci, a cigaretom u drugoj, smjestio na njih. Leđa je udobno naslonio na ormar i udahnuo duboko dim cigarete. "Ljilja nema ništa protiv da me nema koji tjedan, tako da sam slobodan." Ljilja je bila Škotova cura. Završila je višu ekonomsku zaposlila se u nekoj banci kao knjigovođa i dobro uklopila u naše društvo. Točnije rečeno radila je pa nije imala puno vremena da nam smeta, a ono malo što bi bila u ekipi je bila OK. "Vas dva ste slobodnjaci znači svi smo za." Otpio je iz čaše. "Blago vama dok sam ja bio u JNA vi ste bili ekipa, pitam se što ću ja kada pokupe vas dvojicu do kraja godine." Strela je bacio jastučić u njegovom pravcu. "Ne seri bit će tebi dobro i sa Ljiljom, sada će te moći maziti i paziti više sati na dan." Nasmijali smo se sva trojica na već poznato ugađanje Škotu od strane Ljilje. Meni to uopće nije bilo čudno budući da su cure padale na Škota tek tako. Strela i ja smo bili visoki mršavi i više žilavi. Škot je bio srednje visine za muškarca ali vrlo skladno građen imao je i puni šarm "zavodnika iz filomova" i u ekipi je bio osoba za kontakt sa curama. Drugim rječima uvijek bi on prvi prišao nekoj curi iz ženske ekipe u diskoteci ili na nekom plesnjaku. Nas dvojica bi se ubacili kada on ostvari prvi kontakt, a za to je bio majstor. Načitan i po prirodi duhovit bio je lik kojem je malo koja cura mogla odoljeti. Nam je to išlo teže ali je ipak išlo solidno. Dovoljno solidno da budemo samouvjereni, a mislim da je to olakšavalo daljnji pristup curama. Škot je završio strojarstvo u roku, a već iste godine otišao na odsluženje JNA. Ja sam prve dvije godine Ekonomskog dao u roku, a na trećoj sam otkrio "spectrum 48 " kućni kompjutor i programiranje u basic-u. Treću godinu sam odradio "skoro pa odlično", kako je moja mama znala reći, odnosno dao sam sve ispite izuzev dva najlakša. Uvjet za četvrtu godinu je bio da se samo jedan ispit može prenijeti tako sam morao "ponoviti" treću dok ne dam taj ispit razlike. Normalno prešutio sam mojima da zadnji mogući ispitni rok nisam niti koristio, a da Engleski prvi stupanj ne moram niti učiti. Problem je bio što sam otkrio laku zaradu na prodaji gotovih strojnih programa, za tada rašireni "spectrum 48", studentima raznih prirodnih faksova za stvari gdje je trebalo dosta preračuna. Ispite sam dao već u prvom ponavljačkom roku i imao pred sobom deset mjeseci slobode. Život je bio lijep motor i laka lova od programa bez ikakvih obaveza. Moji nisu radili probleme bitno im je bilo da "to sa fakultetom ide naprijed". Takav život vam se osladi pa sam isti trik primijenio i na četvrtoj godini, čvrsto ukopan u odluci da se ne ukopam "čim prije" u JNA posao u raju društvene firme i brak. U razdoblju četvrte godine sam otkrio i dodatne izvore zarade, jeftine slike iz Rumunjske i povremeni rad preko studentske zadruge na tada prvim PC računalim u "BSG International". Tri odlične godine života, čak sam si i kupio rabljenu stariju škodu 110. Na kraju svemu što je dobro dođe kraj nitko više nije imao razumijevanja za moj samo još jedan ispit i diplomski, a najviše su prednjačili moji koji su napokon izgubili strpljenje sa mojim produljenim fakultetskim stažom . Nakon dva sata i nekoliko čašica gromovače plan je bio gotov. Na podu između nas je ležala auto karta Evrope sa svježom mrljom od kave tri šalice za kavu i pepeljara već dobro napunjena. Sve je bilo dogovoreno ostao je još samo problem love. Za malo produljenog putovanja od tri tjedna trebalo nam je najmanje oko 1000 maraka po glavi. Svi smo imali već nešto na strani ali je i svaki od nas bio kratak za oko 300 - 400 DEM. Škot je već pripremio teren, nazvao je Tileta i pitao ga "kako ide sa slikama". Odgovor je na naše zadovoljstvo bio "da bi trebalo pet do sedam komada ali pogođenih". Tile Tile se prezivao Tišma pa je tako i dobio nadimak. U društvu samo ga uvijek zvali Tile ali ponekada u javnosti pogotovu ako bi neka od onih baba iz AFŽ-a, sa sumnjičavom partiznaskom logikom, bila u blizini zvali smo ga Tišma. Nije nam se dalo objašnjavati nikome da se recimo izjava "Tile je ispao glup u zadnjem poslu" odnosila na Tišmu, a ne na tada već pokojnog maršala Tita. Iz potpuno praktičnih razloga skoro do kraja osamdesetih je jednako bilo u upotrebi i njegovo prezime i nadimak. Tiletov stari je diplomirao na ekonomiji i radio u vanjskoj trgovini. Love je uvijek bilo u većim količinama mislim najviše zahvaljujući deviznim dnevnicama. Do sredine osamdesetih prosječna plaća je bila oko 400 DEM, a samo pet dana deviznih dnevnica je "puštalo na stranu" preko tisuću DEM. Tile je imao odličan slikarski talent međutim njegov stari je želio da mu sin bude "inžinjer ili lječnik" i to je sebi duboko utuvio u glavu. Kao i svi po prirodi skloni umjetnosti Tile nije imao puno interesa za prirodne znanosti ali je pod presijom oca završio u prirodno matematičkoj gimnaziji. Završio je dvije godine gimnazije naslikao i nacrtao brdo stvari za koje je na amaterskim natječajima pokupio dosta nagrada i pukao. Napustio je srednju školu "tek tako". Višemjesečne svađe u kući je razriješila Tiletova majka jednostavnim ultimatumom. "Ili ga ti stari idiote pusti na miru ili sin i ja idemo kod mojih u Suboticu." Pobijedila je ljubav prema obitelji pa je Tiletov stari prihvatio novonastalu situaciju i svoju krivicu za to. Mir se vrati u kuću, a godinu dana kasnije Tile se upisao na likovnu akademiju bez srednje škole samo po uvjetima natječaja za one koji bez neke mature žele na akademiju. Bio je među prvima po talentu pokazanom na prijemnom i rekordno je završio. Pred kraj studija je "servisirao" jednu asistenticu, koja je opet dobro "servisirala" svog profesora, a koji je bio i neka faca među kritičarima. Tako su Tiletove slike još pred kraj studija dobile najbolje moguće krtike. Polako je postajao poznat. Asistentica mu je sredila i društveni prostor za atelje. Točnije dobio je tridesetak metara neuređenog tavanskog prostora. Tile se nije uzbuđivao. Proveo je jedno ljeto "na slikarskoj tezgi" po Jadranu. Sa iskaznicom akademije imao je pravo dok ne završi tezgariti, kao i masa drugih sa stolicom na sklapanje i par zakupljenih metara pločnika uz neku rivu. Išlo mu je više nego dobro, a troškovi su bili minimalni budući da je dobar dio vremena spavao i jeo po "omladinskim centrima" kao "ilegalac". Vratio se sa dovoljno love da sa prijateljima uredi atelje i doda kupaonu i wc. Preselio se u atelje i postao "samo svoj". Tada i dolazi u dvojbu. Njegove slike imaju dobru kritiku i prodaju se po većim cijenama ali samo one koje radi na svoj način uz inspiraciju i sporije. Za lovu mu trebaju jeftinije slike u većim količinama ali tada bi uništio svoju reputaciju u začetku. Takvih brzopoteznih slikara sa jeftinim slikama je bila gomila. Tile je želio zadržati rejting ali i zaraditi, a u to doba umjetničke slike sa većom cijenom su se teže prodavale. Radnička klasa nije imala dovoljno love izdržavati umjetnika na tržištu. Uvijek je postojalo nešto važnije za kupiti, lova za rabljenog Yuga ili novi kolor TV i slično. Tile je razmotrio problem sa više strana i izmislio Boriss-a. Nepostojeći Boriss je bio navodno slikar naivac kojeg je Tile otkrio i radio mu usluge na način da je u svom ateljeu jeftinije prodavao i slike sa potpisom Boriss. Slike su išle najviše radi cijene koja je bila umjerena i društvenih stanova čiji betonski zidovi vape za bilo kakvim pokrivalom. Tile je imao opravdanje za kičaste slike koje "imaju ono nešto" u Borisu ali nije imao uvijek dovoljno vremena da uradi veću količinu istih ipak je držao i do rejtinga koji Boriss ima. Naša ekipa je imala vremena i potrebu za jeftinim servisom motora u Rumunjskoj ili Mađarskoj (tada još uvijek željnih traperica, vegete i najlon hulahopki). Tako je nastao dogovor o poslu. Pravac Hamburg Ovaj put smo se odlučili za Rumunjsku većim dijelom zato što nam je prije puta trebao i dobar ali jeftin servis motora sa zamjenom svih ploča i pločica na kočnicama, a iz iz razloga trenutnog među tečajnog odnosa vegeta, traperice, najlonke i na crno kupljena rumunjska valuta prema tome što namjeravamo kupiti i uraditi. Ujedno imali smo i svoja dva čovjeka za sve potrebne transakcije u Rumunjskoj. Nabava materijala za prodaju i kratka priprema motora oduzela je jedan dan. Spremali smo se krenuti oko 4 sata slijedećeg jutra. Pijesak Zajahali smo prije svitanja računajući na čekanje na granici. Pravac kretanja Pančevo, Vršac Timisoara (Temišvar). U malom selu prije granice kod "Ace Ciganina" kupili smo nešto Rumunjskih leia (leu) po direkt tečaju marke – leji, koji je uvijek bio povoljniji. Na graničnom prijelazu je bila gužva i provlačili smo se pomalo između auta praćeni kišom psovki nezadovoljnih vozača. Naši nisu radili puno problema kod ulaska u Rumunjsku. Rumunjski carinik nas je normalno odmah izdvojio na stranu i tražio da otvorimo torbe na prtljažnicima. Prišao je Škotu dok je otvara torbu, ovaj mu je odmah po otvaranju sa vrha "robe za prodaju" pokupio i pružio dvije kutije Marlbora. Cigarete je strpao u džep brzinom svjetlosti, a torbu samo pretražio rukama koliko je dohvatio. Kada je prišao mojoj već otvorenoj torbi na vrhu robe ga je čekao veliki paket žvakaćih i crveni Ronhill isti su nestali jednakom brzinom i u istom pravcu kao Marlboro. Ubacio je obe ruke u torbu i prepipao sadržaj. Kada se uvjerio da je u pitanju samo standardna šverc roba klimnuo je glavom i bez riječi produžio ka Streli koji je opušteno čekao kod motora računajući na to "kako je krenulo dobro ide". Strelu nije pregledao samo je pitao: "Ima nesto?". Strela odmahnu glavom pružajući kutiju Marlbora. Mahnuo nam je da prođemo i desetak kilograma u srcu lakši, za težinu onog kamena koji je pao, produljismo dalje. Sa tadašnjim Rumunjskim carinicima nikada nisi znao. Većina ih je bila razumna i ako nisi pretjerao sa količinom robe za prodaju pokupili bi što im se nudi (po pravilu roba koje u Rumunjskoj nikako nije bilo ili je bila preskupa) i pustili te dalje. Ponekada bi ti oduzeli kilo dvije vegete ili paket najlonki. Normalno ako si pametan nisi pitao potvrdu već uz kiseli smiješak klimnuo glavom. Sa druge dvije kategorije carinika je bilo gore. Prvi su bili oni koji su kako tako provodili Rumunjski carinski zakon, a što je značilo oduzimanje viška robe ili u najboljem slučaju vraćanje natrag preko granice u jugu. Takvi su bili rijetki. Gori su bili ufurani u posao na svoju ruku. Takvi bi redovito oduzimali 10 – 30% robe po vlastitoj procijeni i potrebi. Ovima neku potvrdu o oduzimanju nisi smio niti pomisliti, a ne tražiti, u protivnom bi palo skidanje do gola i svi mogući pregledi. Kamo je oduzeta roba završavala znali smo samo po pričama "pravih švercera". Roba se jednim djelom podijelila kolegama da šute, a ostatak je raznim kanalima završavao u Rumunjskim zabitima gdje je postizao po 4 – 5 puta veću cijenu nego u velikim gradovima, kamo bi u pravilu rijeka jugo sitnih švercera završila. Socijalistički realizam u Rumunjskoj nije nudio veliki izbor robe. Isto je nadoknadila gomila sitnih jugo švercera. Motore smo parkirali pred velikom robnom kućom i torbe uzeli sa sobom. Robna kuća je imala vlastitu galeriju sa slikama Rumunjskih poznatih i onih manje poznatih umjetnika. Strela je bio u odličnim odnosima sa šefom galerije budući da je pomalo govorio francuski, a šef nije baš pucao od znanja nekog od jugo jezika. Livu nas je dočekao sa osmjehom, vjerojatno mu je zaliha robe malo presušila. Bio je niži i debeo ali mu je sako odijela dobro prikrivao poveći trbuh. Strela se rukovao i nakon par riječi na francuskom mahnuo glavom da prijeđemo u zadnju prostoriju. Po tradiciji prvo smo pokazali robu odnosno vegetu, "Filter 160", najlonke i dva para jeftinih "Beko Lee Cuper" traperica. Klimnuo je glavom, a potom poslagao uza zid desetak slika bez okvira. Strela je jedini imao slikarskog talenta, a i mama mu je predavala likovnu umjetnost u srednjoj strojarskoj. Tako smo nas dva samo stajali u mirisu terpentina i razgledali slikarsku opremu i slike, dok Strela nije završio odabir. Odabrao je pet pejzaža i dvije mrtve prirode. Upitno je pogledao prema meni. Zaključio sam da pejzaži uvijek dobro dođu za dnevni boravak, a one vaze sa cvijećem se budu dobro uklopile u neku blagavaonu. Klimnuh glavom. Sada je slijedio uobičajeni cirkus na kraju kupovine zvani "doplati razliku u markama". Livu je nešto brzo šaputao sa Strelom, a ovaj je odmahivao glavom. Na kraju nakon par minuta prepirke na francuskom Strela dođe polako do mene. "Daj mu dvadeset marona i ništa više". U Rumunjskoj je bilo strogo zabranjeno trgovati ili plaćati stranom devizom pogotovu onom kapitalističkom. Dok sam prilazio Livu Strela i Škot su krenuli malo prema vratima. Plan je bio jednostavan ako bi, ne daj bože, Livu ipak namjestio nešto sa policijom njih dvojica bi napravila gužvu na vratima kod upada drotova, a u međurazdoblju bih ja gurnuo sve marke iza neke slike. Poslije neka dokazuju tko ih je tamo stavio. Nije da nismo vjerovali Livu ali je po našim saznanjima previše šverao i ljubio kapitalističku valutu pa je uvijek mogao pasti i biti prisiljen na suradnju. Normalno one prave se ne bi usudio cinkati ali nas sitne bi rado prodao da izvuče kožu, a u tadašnjoj Rumunjskoj bilo je dovoljno da te nađu sa devizama i neki svjedok da potvrdi da je primio tu i tu količinu. Ako bi devize bile iza slike uvijek smo se mogli vaditi da ih je sam izvadio od tamo i ponudio nama za plaćanje. Sve je prošlo u najboljem redu novac nije niti vidio svijetlo dana kojom brzinom je nestao iz moje ruke kada sam ga samo pokušao pružiti. Roba je isto tako brzo nestala sa stola. Na crno tih dvadeset maraka je vrijedilo deset do dvanaest puta više od službenog tečaja. Klimnuo je glavom i brzo izvadio tri tanke kartonske tube. U svakoj je bilo standardno pakiranje po tri komada jeftinog slikarskog platna umotanog u rolu, a koje je trebalo naknadno rasteći po okviru. Pažljivo je skinuo odabrana platna sa slikama sa ramova. Slijedeća faza je bila da je razdvojio svaku kartonsku tubu, bez otvaranja, na način da je odvojio vanjski sloj izvukao rebrasti izolacijski karton i umjesto njega namotao platna sa slikama. Potom je pažljivo vratio i zaljepio po rubovima vanjski tamnozeleni karton. Pred nama su bile tri tube jeftinog slikarskog platna u original pakiranju. Takvo se često znalo donositi iz Rumunjske. Uvijek sam se divio vještini i brzini kojom je to obavljao, očigledno je isto često radio. Devize i roba na crno budu mu donijele zaradu u višestrukoj vrijednosti slika. Pola sata kasnije smo sjedeli u jedinom kafiću u blizini koji je imao neku glazbu. Rumunjska zabavna glazba sa klasičnog magnetofona, "cassette tape deck" im je bio nedostupan. Pili smo Bacardi i gusti sok, torbe nismo ispuštali ispod sigurnog pritiska potkoljenicama. Ovdje su krađe jugo švercera od strane domaćih spretnih prstiju bile česte. Daljnji plan je bio jasan trebalo nam je malo servisa ali i još po nešto da nas carina pri povratku ne pita za slikarska platna. Doru Bugarin je šefovao u nekoj auto mehaničarskoj radionici u predgrađu. Ovo je već bila pomalo neugodna zona kretanja, što zbog lopova koji su se muvali tražeći jugo švercere da ih preveslaju pri kupovini robe na crno ili organizirano pokradu, što po policiji koja je ganjala prethodne pa je bila prisutna u većem broju. Uobičajeni trik je bio da bi netko od starijih prišao i pitao za vegetu ili cigarete "Ibar". Ako bi žrtva otvorila torbu sa više robe ponudio bi se da otkupi svu robu ali malo manje od uobičajene cijene. Ako bi naivac nasjeo da brzo završi prvi dio posla pa više vremena ima za kupovinu rumunjske robe scenario bi bio jednostavan. Roba bi se pregledala i prebacila u jeftinu torbu koju bi žrtva držala u svojoj ruci. Uslijedilo bi brojanje novca u ruci kupca do dogovorenog iznosa. Isti je prvo slagao u drugu ruku krupne novčanice do blizu iznosa potom bi bio malo suh pa počeo dodavati više sitnih na vrh novca. Sve je izgledalo OK. U trenutku dodavanja sitnih novčanica obično bi prišlo nekoliko klinaca dosadno tražeći da kupi žvakaće. Nastala bi mala gužva. Žrtva bi pažljivo pratila novac i kada bi iznos bio točno nabrojan netko bi iznenada viknu "Policija policija". Klinci bi se razbježali, a kupac drugom rukom dohvatio mac novca i gurnuo ga žrtvi u ruke potom brzo preuzeo torbu i otrčao. Sretni prodavac bi gurnuo novac u džep i brzo se udaljio. Nakon par stotina metara kada se osjećao sigurno izvukao bi novac iz džepa. Umjesto dogovorenog iznosa našao bi samo one sitne novčanice sa vrha kupa novca, spretni kupac je kod guranja novca ka žrtvi u ruci u kojoj je počivao kup zadržao sve krupne novčanice i došao do robe za 5 -10% od ugovorene cijene. Bilo je još trikova ali je ovaj bio najčešći za naivce koje su nepogrešivo znali nanjušiti. Pričalo se i da policajci ponekada znaju biti u dogovoru ali nikada nisam čuo potvrdu tih priči. Doru je bio Rumunjskog porijekla sto posto ali kada nas je prvi put vidio u svojoj auto mehaničarskoj radionici pitao nas je da li smo bugari, tako je ostao Doru Bugarin. Bio je oko pedeset godina srednje visine i žilav. Bratić mu je radio kao šef u obližnjoj trgovini prehrambenim proizvodima pa je za cijeli posao bio premija na lotu. Doru je želio sina ali je samo dogurao do četvrte kćeri kada je žena rekla dosta. Tako je živio u zajednici pet žena i veselio se svakom mlađem muškom društvu vjerojatno sanjajući da bi neostvareni sin dobro izgledao na motoru, a doma bio odlično društvo za muške razgovore. Srdačno se rukovao sa nama i svakog potapšao po ramenu. Sjeli smo u njegov mali ured i stavio je neku mađarsku rakiju od marelice i četiri čaše na stol. Kada smo ispili i zapalili Škot je izvadio iz torbe paket od deset pari najlonki "Pegi", tri jeftina ženska seta make up-a i kilo vegete kao poklon. Doru se široko nasmješio i brzo prebacio robu u ladice stola. Potom smo ponudili ostatak robe na prodaju. Sve je išlo brzo cijena je bila unaprijed poznata. Razgovor je bio specifičan budući da je Doru znao oko stotinjak riječi svih naroda i narodnosti ondašnje Jugoslavije, a uz to i oko stotinjak riječi njemačkog, što je u Rumunjskoj bila rijetkost. Tako sam ja igrao ulogu glavnog prevodioca. Objasnio nam je da bratić ima u trgovini dovoljno salama i sira ali da je malo tanak sa orasima. Tko pita bitno je da ima neke robe za trošak puta. Pitao je za motore. "Standardno odgovorih ali i šminkanje guma". OK možemo na ručak za dva sata sve je spremno. Pustili smo torbe u radionici sa sobom smo ponijeli samo tube sa slikama u malom ruksaku. Dva kilometra dalje bila nam je već poznata gostiona "Cismigui". Šetnja je pojačala glad pa su miješano meso i salata dobili sjajan ukus koji nije kvarilo čak ni loše rumunjsko pivo. Dva sata kasnije sve je bilo spremno. Doru nam je objasnio što je urađeno na servisu sva tri motora dok se pet šest mladih učenika još motalo oko njega. Pustih dvije kutije Ronhilla na stol za dečke. Samo su to čekali. Korektno nam je naplatio servis a potom pokazao na gume. Izgledale su ko nove na sjajnim felgama. "Može prljanje" upitah. Klimnuo je glavom i nešto povikao na rumunjskom. Dva mulca su brzo donijela sandučić sa pijeskom i malo blata. Na gume koje su izgledale kao nove nabacali su malo blata pomješanog sa pijeskom. Sada su gume izgledale kao nove ali malo namjerno uprljane. Ušli smo u ured i ponovno natočili onu rakiju. Doru iz ormara izvadi naše tri torbe i svaku posebno otvori i pokaza sadržaj. OK salama sir i nešto oraha sve ravnomjerno raspoređeno. Razgovor je tekao do kraja druge cigarete. Dovoljno da se ono blato i pijesak dobro osuše. Krenuli smo, svatko je dodao po jednu tubu sa slikama u svoju torbu, čekao nas je prelazak granice i naša carina. Sa slikama podijeljenim u tri paketa mogli smo dobiti dobru novčanu kaznu uz oduzimanje robe ali je pojedinačno bila premala vrijednost za bilo kakvu "krivičnu" to smo znali. Carinik nas je izdvojio kako smo i očekivali. "Pasoš i prometnu molim." Pružih mu zatraženo. Bio je visok suh sa nezainteresiranim izrazom lica, a to nije mirisalo na dobro. Pažljivo je pregledao mašinu motora koja se nakon glancanja sjajila. Obišao je oko motora i zagledao gume. Dok je obilazio skinuh gumene natezače sa prtljažnika i otvorih torbu. Ovlaš je pogledao unutra. Dohvatio je tubu sa platnom i slikama i izvadio je vani. Srce mi poče davati jazz bubnjarski finiš. "Izvadite te gornje salame." Polako izvadih dvije velike salame ispod se ukaza nekoliko manjih i gomila sireva. Ubacio je tubu natrag u torbu i klimnu glavom. "Čekajte". Slična stvar se ponovila i kod Škota. "Kome trebaju ova platna?" Upita. "Cura mi je na akademiji, a kod nas su skupa." Škot je odgovorio nemarno i uvjerljivo. Potrgao je original omot sa kartonskog poklopca i pažljivo malo izvukao prazna platna. Slegao je ramenima i vratio Škotu tubu. Kod Strele je samo pažljivo pregledao motor. "Nove gume i servis motora". Nasmiješio se. "Ne samo servis ali su prali motore pa djeluje kao da..." započeo je Strela. Zaustavio ga je pokretom ruke i uručio mu sva tri pasoša i prometne potom je polako krenuo ka koloni vozila koja je čekala. Dok je odlazio dobacio je. "Slijedeći put neka vam malo bolje zaprljaju gume, a ne ovako pacerski". Mahnuo je rukom ne okrećući se. Prišli smo Streli i uzeli svoju dokumentaciju. Polako smo krenuli. Par kilometara od granice smo se počeli utrkivati. Raspoloženje je bilo očito. Život je bio lijep. Usporili smo nakon desetak minuta i produljili normalnim ritmom vožnje. Pala mi je na pamet priča o pijesku koju sam pročitao u nekom "Start-u". Negdje sredinom pedesetih godina jedan pogranični stanovnik je prelazio iz Italije u Švicarsku na rad svaki dan tamo i nazad. Prelazio je vlakom ali često je išao i prljavim biciklom. Običan tvornički radnik uljudan i fin na granici. Problem za carinike je nastao kada se prvi put pojavio iz Švicarske sa torbom pijeska na prtljažniku bicikla. Pregledali su dobro pijesak ali nisu ništa našli. Priča se produljila kada bi lik na svom prljavom biciklu išao u Švicarsku nije nosio ništa ali kada bi se vraćao nosio je torbu pijeska. Pijesak su pregledali, slali na analizu i na kraju popizdili pregledali su detaljno radnika rastavili bicikl i nisu našli ništa. Isti je dao objašnjenje da nešto zida doma i da uz put nabavi malo pijeska. Nisu ništa pitali dalje, a priča sa pijeskom je išla još neko vrijeme. Svaki treći ili četvrti povratak je bila torba pijeska na biciklu. Ponekada je i u vlaku imao torbu pijeska na povratku. Digli su ruke nakon još par pokušaja da ga uhvate. Prošlo je par godina, a radnik je sada već prelazio granicu u malenom Fiatu ali bez pijeska. Standard je u poslijeratnoj Evropi porastao. Jedan stari carinik ga je dobro pamtio. Jednog dana je ovlaš pregledao njegov Fiat 500 vratio mu pasoš i upitao ga: "Daj mi molim te, sada reci što ti je značio onaj pijesak prije par godina, samo mi reci što si švercao i nikada te više neću gnjaviti?" Radnik ga je pogledao i odgovorio: "Pa bicikl." Dodao sam gas i zaobišao Škota čekao sam da Strela obiđe obojicu. Idemo li na slijedeći nastavak? Kaj se čeka ????? Da al bar za 1/4 kraci jer kad vidim ovako dugo neda mi se citati ,bolje vise nastavak a krace :bang: da da da :D :D :D ne triba krače, čak i ovo malo bude kad se uživiš :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: Dodao sam gas i zaobišao Škota čekao sam da Strela obiđe obojicu. Pravac Hamburg Dodao sam gas i zaobišao Škota čekao sam da Strela obiđe obojicu. Pravac Hamburg Prelazili smo most i prilazili Zemunu. Od "Brankovog mosta" do zemuna je vodila široka brza cesta sa dvije trake u svakom smjeru. Sa strane je bio drvored i pločnik. Uvijek sam se osjećao posebno kada sam se vraćao u Zemun. Nije to bila stara priča o sukobu "Zemunaca" i "Beograđana" ili još češće onih sa "Novog beograda" kao produljenja Beograda, a koji je nakon drugog rata prešao Savu te primio u svoje okrilje masu novokomponiranih radnika iz raznih krajeva. Jednostavno bio je to povratak doma. Povratak u široke ravno ustrojene ulice i drvorede još od doba Austrije, u starom dijelu grada i uredno posložene kuće i zgrade u novom. Povratak u svoje okruženje. Povratak u pravila igre koja sam poznavao. Trebalo je otići do Tileta i uvaliti slike. Prije toga se trebalo riješiti onih salama i sireva uz solidnu zaradu koja bi pokrila sve troškove puta i dio troška slika. Cilj je bio poznat, još iz dogovora sa zadnje pauze na "Jugo Petrolovoj" benzinskoj. Vozili smo prvo ka Staroj Pazovi. Trebala nam je prodaja robe odmah ako smo mislili krenuti "čim prije". Izbor je pao na pouzdanog kupca vlasnika gostione "Stara Polja". Od zadnje pauze sam vodio grupu. Prošli smo kroz centar Zemuna pa pravac starom cestom prema staroj Pazovi. Pazova je također nakon rata doživjela podjelu na staru i novu, hebiga. Trebalo je još trideset kilometara noćne vožnje ali vrijeme je bilo pogodno za posao, vlasnik je bio uvijek nazočan nakon deset navečer. Sudionik iz 71 Gostiona "Stara Polja" se nalazila između stare i nove Pazove uz cestu prema Novom Sadu i drugim krajem ceste povezana sa auto cestom Beograd - Zagreb. Raj za kamiondžije. Svake večeri se služio roštilj i obavezni grah uz zvuke novokomponirane narodne glazbe i tuljenje pjevaljki sa "velikim balkonima" u izazovnim minicama. Vlasnik gostione Domagoj je imao neku frku tijekom "Hrvatskog proljeća" 1971 godine. Ja sam bio još "klinac" pa nisam znao koliko i kako je to išlo. Kasnije sam doznao iz priča da je "puno pričao što ne treba" pa je završio par godina "na hlađenju". Normalno izgubio je posao u "Insa proizvodnja satova i precizne mehanike", gdje je radio kao pogonski inžinjer. Kasnije nije mogao naći posao u "društvenom sektoru" pa se prebacio u privatne poduzetnike. Otvorio je gostionu i prilagodio je kamiondžijama i sitnim kriminalcima iz okolice Pazove i Zemuna. Poznavao je klijentelu "u dušu" pa je uvijek nastojao imati "zgodnu pjevaljku narodnjaka" i dobar orkestar. Posao je išao, pa je unatoč "presiji komunjara" imao dobru kuću i dobar auto. Pravi dokaz uspjeha jakog duha. Jedan dio zarade je potjecao od robe "na crno". Kamiondžije su često iz inozemstva donosile tada dosta skupe HiFi uređaje renomiranih marki i raznu drugu robu. Kada bi popili koju više, a sisata pjevaljka počela plesati na stolu nije se puno gledalo na trošak. Obično nakon koje pive više, bili su raspoloženi i za "skratiti posao sa robom na crno". Domagoj je sve kupovao po najpovoljnijoj cijeni. Pjevaljka bi u pauzi sjela za stol kamiondžije ili švercera koji bi napomenuo da ima nešto prodati i povela neobvezan razgovor. Domagoj bi prišao nakon desetak minuta i naručio piće "na račun kuće" za prodavača i pjevaljku. Potom bi krenuli neki razgovori oko toga što se nudi i koja je cijena. Naravno u nazočnosti velikih sisa i očaravajućeg osmjeha prodavatelj je bio daleko mekši. U kritičnom trenutku pjevaljka bi rekla da je pauza gotova i vratila se na binu. Prvu pjesmu bi posvetila svom novom poznaniku. Lik je bio već mekan i na već spuštenu cijenu "kako se ne bi sramotio pred damom" bi dopustio novo sniženje. Domagoj je tako dolazio do robe povoljno. Ista bi kasnije drugim kanalima kamiondžija i sumnjivih likova završila u unutrašnjosti Vojvodine i Srbije gdje je imala veću cijenu. Ubacili smo motore na veliki parking blizu ulaza, uz glazbu poznatih novokomponiranih hitova poput "Otišo si sarmu probo nisi". Škot i Strela su ostali sa motorima dok sam se ja zaputio u "Stara Polja". Odmah po ulasku mi je bilo jasno da se "polako podiže tenzija". Pjevačica je pomalo plesala i pjevala neko zapomaganje o ljubavi dok je harmonikaš klečao ispred njenih zanosnih oblina i rastezao kao lud. U zadimljenoj unutrašnjosti nije bilo jasno da li pjevaljka orkestar i razglas rade veću buku ili likovi koji udaraju bocama o stol, vrište "Too cuuuro!" i psihološki "režu žile". Prišao sam ravno šanku naslonio se i počekao da me Rade, šef sale, snimi. Prišao je nakon par pogleda. "Večer Djoni što piješ?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Ništa sorry, reci je Doms tu? Trebam ga." Okrenuo se ka konobarici koja je upravo istovarila brdo praznih boca pive na šank. "Mileva odi do gazde i reci da ga Djoni Zemunac treba." Ista je umorno slegla ramenima i uputila se uz stube iza šanka. Rade je uzeo čašu i ubacio jedan hit točene pive. Popunilo je oko četvrtinu ostalo do vrha je bila pjena. Stavio je na šank ispred mene i uz istu dodao pepeljaru. "Dok čekaš." Osmijehnuo se, a potom ponovno počeo nadgledati situaciju u cijeloj gostioni. Gazdino "oko sokolovo" u svom gnjezdu iza šanka. Organizator večernje ludnice i sudac za sva radna mjesta u gostionici, izuzev normalno onih na kojima su gazdine ljubavnice. Uvijek je bio ljubazan prema meni više nego prema drugima ali nikada mi nije "ležao". Stigao sam do pola cigarete kada je došao Domagoj. Udario me po ramenu i nasmješio se. "Večer Djoni kojim dobrom?" Pokušao je nadglasati buku. Bio je za glavu niži od mojih 195 ali skladno građen i "panterskih pokreta". Crna kosa mu je bila kratko podšišana i uredno začešljana unazad. Nikada nije odavao dojam lika koji je ljigav, a još manje onoga sa kojim bi se zajebavao a i ta cigareta u kutu usana mu je dobro stajala. Mahnuo je "oku sokolovom" ali sam ga prekinuo rukom. Nije mi se pilo "na račun kuće", žurilo mi se. "Vidi salame i sir iz Rumunjske, trebaš?" Otpuhnuo je dim. "Koliko?" Slegoh ramenima. "Što ja znam 25-30 kg ne manje kada izdvojimo malo za doma." Klimnuo je glavom. "Donesite na zadnji ulaz". Pet minuta kasnije smo stajali ispred stola u zadnjoj prostoriji. Na stolu je ležao sadržaj tri torbe. Izdvojili smo po salamu i sir "za mamu" te nešto za "kod Tileta" i pustili u torbama. Domagoj je odmjerio stol. Njemu nije trebala vaga. Znali smo da u glavi skoro u gram zna koja je količina u pitanju. "OK 250 maraka zadnja." Odmahnuh glavom. "U redu ali bez oraha." Pogledao me upitno. Znao je da sam ja u ekipi "poslovni pregovarač". "Reci." Počekao sam malo i izbacio. "Tristo i dvadeset sve skupa". Odmjerio je orahe. "Tristo." Klimnuh glavom. Izvadio je novčanik i pružio prema meni dvije novčanice po sto i dvije po pedeset malo raširene da se vidi boja i iznos. Pokupih lovu i spremih je u gornji džep jakne. Domagoj me udari po ramenu. "Dečki može piće i koji ćevap na račun kuće." Odmahnuh glavom. "Hvalka Doms žurimo." Prislonio mi je ruku na rame i povukao me malo na stranu. "Daj Djoni nikada ne ostaneš na cugi." Škot je po ocu bio Mađar sa primjesama njemačke krvi, a po majci Hrvat. Nije mnogo držao do neke nacionalnosti izuzev što je bio katolik. Strela je bio još veći miks budući da je uz sve krvne primjese Škota posjedovao i Češke krvi po jednoj baki. Ja sam bio skoro pa čisti Hrvat, ako se izuzme četvrtina Mađarske krvi po baki sa očeve strane. Nije mi bilo čudno što sam ga interesirao više od Strele i Škota. Pljesnuo me je po ramenu i produljio tiho "Vidiš koje je sranje u politici i ekonomiji, opusti se malo, uživaj, tko zna što će biti." Namignuo je. Nasmiješih se. "Ne znam Doms mene izuzev ..." Prekinuo me je klimanjem glave i podrugljivim tonom. "Gitare i motora ništa drugo ne zanima. To ponavljaš od kada te znam. Vjerojatno i tebi smeta moja prošlost." Zavrtio je glavom i odmahnuo rukom. "Sretno dečki." To je bio znak da je svaki daljnji razgovor završen. Krenuli smo polako vani. Dok smo hodali prema motorima Strela nije izdržao. "Daj Djoni uvijek si tvrd prema njemu, a nije neki loš lik." Strela nije dobro podnosio glad, a ono miješano meso u Rumunjskoj je bilo prije dosta vremena. Vjerojatno su mu ćevapi i pivo dobro zvučali. "Ne znam Strela samo mi je čudno da on i dalje sere protiv sustava i vani je, dok poneki koji počnu pomalo srati sa njim znaju završiti pokoji mjesec "na hlađenju"." Vjerojatno sam zvučao pomalo grubo. "Poneki kažeš, ti poneki seru i na drugim mjestima gdje stignu pa nije ni čudo što ih pokupe." Strelin glas je zvučao pomalo uvređeno. Zatezao sam skoro praznu torbu na prtljažnik. Nisam želio biti grub. Škot je mudro ostao tih. Skoro nikada se nije miješao u rasprave ovog tipa između mene i Strele. Pokupio sam kacigu sa upravljača i zajahao motor. Bilo mi je krivo. Nisam želio nikoga uvrijediti. Okrenuh se prema Streli koji je još petljao oko kacige. "Slušaj, bratić tvoga starog je želio otvoriti kafić prije četiri godine i još nije dobio dozvolu, nije ti čudno?" Nastojao sam to reći pomirljivim tonom. Upalilo je. Strela je konačno raspetljao kacigu od upravljača i pogledao me. "Nije vjerojatno podamazao vijak koji je trebao." Odmahnuh glavom. "Podmazao je i to više i sam znaš. Samo je ne baš podoban jer kada se napije ponekad viče "Živio Maček", pa je popušio i koji dan pržuna." Strela je zajahao. "Ok imaš pravo može i to biti." Klimnuh glavom i pogledah ga. "Domagoj je imao još goru situaciju i godinu nakon povratka iz zatvora dobio dozvolu da otvori gostionu. Razmisli." Navukao sam kacigu i startao. Polako smo krenuli sa parkinga. Tileta sam nazvao iz prve javne govornice. Javio se raspoložen. Ma može samo je Ervin kod njega i upravo gledaju Monty Python-ov "Život Brajanov". Ervin ili Ekica je bio Tiletov najbolji frend i lumen iz matematike. Parkirali smo ispod stare zgrade i zaputili se stubama ka potkrovlju. Škot je pokucao na vrata. Otključao je Ervin. Ravni prozor prema krovu je bio otvoren. "Upadajte." Tileta nije bilo. Atelje je bio u pravom stilu. Pod je bio prekriven toplim podom od zida do zida. Jastučići su bili razbacani na sve strane. Više od pola prostorije su pokrivale dovršene i nedovršene slike i slikarska oprema. U jednom kutu je bio prastari električni štednjak, hladnjak i sudoper. Dva ormara su vjerojatno pripadala nekoj društvenoj firmi u bolje dane. Ipak zidovi su bili dobro oličeni u bijelo i uvijek je izgledalo čisto na prvi pogled. Na improviziranoj polici u drugom kutu je ležalo staro Toshiba pojačalo i gramofon. Na podu je počivao stari crno bijeli TV, a sada je pored njega počivao i video rekorder "Orion". Scene na TV-u su bile iz nekog serijala "Leteći cirkus Monty Pythona". Samo crno bijele. Na dva metra od TV-a su bili postavljeni improvizirani ležajevi od spužvi presvučenih nekim materijalom. Prostor okolo ispunjen sa par jastučića. Ervin je pokazao na jstučiće i dodao još tri čaše uz postojeće dvije, prepunu pepeljaru i polupraznu bocu vinjaka. Spustismo se na pod, boca krenu od ruke do ruke. Nakon 400 km na motorima bilo je udobno napola ležati na podu i oslanjati se na jastučiće sa čašom u ruci. Otpih gutljaj Rubinovog vinjaka i zapalih cigaretu. Tiletova glava se iznenada pojavi u okviru onog prozora. Ubacio se u sobu jednim spretnim zahvatom za rubove prozora i protresao glavom. "Luđaci u ovoj sobi se razmnožavaju. Pustio sam jednog, a zatekao četvoricu. Vjerojatno jednostanična razdioba." Škot mu nazdravi čašom. Ja sam se pravio kao da me uznemirava komarac pa sam mahnuo rukom oko glave. Tile se spusti na drugi ležaj u neki sjedeći Joga položaj. Iz gornjeg džepa košulje je izvadio najlonsku vrećicu i počeo motati joint. Skužih da zlihu trave krije negdje na krovu, a u ateljeu drži samo količinu za "tekuću uporabu". Tko je bio siguran od bilo kakvog pretresa prostorija. Mala količina korisnik, a ne diler. Spavalo mi se ali sam čekao da prvi počne. Nakon što je duboko uvukao dva dima dodao je joint Škotu koji mu je bio najbliži. "Imate nešto ili ste samo navratili?" Počekao sam da joint napravi krug i dođe do mene povukao dubok udah i ispuštajući dim digao se na lakat i dodao joint Tiletu. "Sedam komada, dva puta mrtva priroda i pet pejzaža." Povukao je ponovno dva dima i ugasio ostatak u pepeljari. "Idemo vidjeti što to vrijedi." Strela pruži ruku i dohvati torbu. Polako je otvorio i izvukao tri kartonske tube. Svaku je položio na pod iza svoje glave udobno smještene na dva jastučića i produljio gledati Monty Pythone. Sekundu kasnije Tile je stručno otvorio omote tuba i izvukao slike. Pažljivo ih je položio u drugi dio prostorije na pod i polako razgledao jednu po jednu. Znao sam da ocjenjuje koliko stil odgovara potpisu Boriss, izmišljenjom liku za njegovu laku lovu. Vratio se i sjeo na ležaj ponovno motajući joint. "Uzimam sve izuzev one koju sam pustio po strani. Pejzaž je usrano kičast. Koliko?" Otpih gutljaj vinjaka više da se pripremim nego radi efekta. "Devetsto pedeset sve skupa." Odmahnuo je glavom. "Osamsto bez onog pejzaža nije loš za tvoju mamu kao poklon ali meni ne sliči na Borisa." Dodao mi je joint. Poako povukoh dim i proslijedih isti Škotu. "Osamsto i sedamdeset svih sedam zadnja cijena." Znao je iz iskustva da se ne zajebavam. Davno na početku je "išao do kraja", pa smo lošije slike prodali na buvljaku, kako smo zvali tržnicu rabljene robe, a bolje kod Jove pjesnika i Đoke biznismena. Malo smo zaradili ali nismo bili u gubitku, gubitnik je bio on. Klimnuo je glavom. "OK Djoni, samo pazi, kada se vaše društvo rasturi nećeš imati puno prijatelja, previše voliš lovu." Pogledah ga. "Mislio sam da si mi i ti prijatelj." Gledao me malo dulje. "Jesam ali u pravu si prijateljstvo za prijateljstvo, a sir prodajem za lovu." Ustao je bez riječi i smotao platna, potom je ponovno nesato na krovu. Kada se vratio pružio mi je smotuljak sa osamsto sedamdeset maraka i zamotao novi joint. Pitao sam se da li i lovu krije na krovu ili je samo trebao dodatnog opuštanja nakon pregovora. Upitno me pogledao. "Ostajete noćas? Imamo pet kazeta Monty Python-a i Benny Hill-a te još dvije boce vina?" Klimnuh glavom i mahnuh Streli. Jedva je dočekao, digao se sa poda izvukao jedan sir i salamu iz torbe i zaputio ka improviziranoj kuhinji. "Imaš kruha i čiste tanjure?" Tile je podigao palac prema meni, a potom dobacio. "Strela tanjuri i kruh su ispod sudopera, a u hladnjaku ima paradajza." Strela klimnu glavom otvori svoj preklopni nož i baci se na posao. Pet minuta kasnije uz onu bocu vinjaka su ležala dva tanjura rezane slame i sira tanjur rezanog kruha i tanjur rezane rajčice. Strela je već žvakao pozamašan sendvič koji si je napravio dok je rezao hranu. Ervin je otišao do ormara te donio bocu vina "Navipovo crno" i tri deke sivo maslinaste boje. Svakome od nas je dobacio po jednu deku, a potom otvorio vino. Nakon par minuta žvakanja Tile upita. "Kome ste uvalili ostatak robe?" Volio je Rumunjske salame i sir, a zamjetio je da je Strela više od polovice sira i salame spremio u njegov hladnjak, "da mu se nađe". Škot dobaci preko zalogaja. "Stara Polja, Domagoj. Sada vjerojatno kamiondžije za "hladni narezak" plaćaju deset puta više od nabavne cijene." Tile klimnu glavom proguta zalogaj i odgovori. "Oduvijek je mirisao na udbaša ali je zato siguran za posao njega milkani neće ganjati." Ovo je bilo čudno. Tile je bio porijeklom Srpsko Hrvatsko Slovačka mješavina i tako se i držao. Nikada nije pilio ništa o politici i izbjegavao je svaku nacionalnu temu. "Kako to misliš?" Upitah prekidajući žvakanje. Umjesto Tileta odgovori Ervin. "Tata moje bivše cure je jedno vrijeme bio upravnik jednog odjela u jednom od onih zatvora." Zastao je da proguta zalogaj. Naše tri glave se okrenuše prema njemu. Otpio je gutljaj crnog iz čaše i produljio. "E pa Domagoj je već nakon godinu i pol dana u zatvoru, postao šef u zatvorskom pogonu za proizvodnju keramičkih pločica i imao posebnu ćeliju za sebe. To su mogli samo pokajnici koji su pristali na suradnju, kaže. Zato ga vjerojatno danas milkani ne stišću mnogo oko šverc robe, ima leđa u onima iz sigurnosti." Pogledao sam Strelu. Slegao mi je ramenima u stilu "što sam ja znao". To je ujedno bio i kraj razgovora o politici kod ove dvojice. Uvijek su se držali dalje od tih tema i igrali po pravilima predgrađa naročito poštivajući ono osnovno "gledaj samo svoja posla". Obavijest su nam dostavili po prijateljskoj osnovi, a i zato što su znali da smo uvijek gledali svoja posla. Domagoj je tuđi problem. Umotao sam se u deku i dodao još jedan jastučić ispod glave, nije mi se ustajalo i vozilo doma, pomalo sam drijemao. Tile započe priču o svom zadnjem posjetu izložbi slika u Osijeku, znali smo da je u pitanju neki smiješan događaj. Netko je donio bocu vode iz hladnjaka i stavio je nadohvat svima. Na ekranu, Beny Hill je upravo tapšao svog malog kompanjona po glavi i gledao za jednom sisatom plavušom u halterima. Počinjala je ugodna noć. Dvadeset godina kasnije sam sjedio sa jednim poznanikom u Gradskoj Kavani u Zagrebu. Ovaj je radio u Hrvatskim sigurnosnim službama na početku rata i kasnije. Tada je već bio u mirovini ali je vodio neki sitan privatni biznis, tako smo se i upoznali. Dobro smo se uklopili na prvi pogled. Bio je također "dečko iz kvarta", a moja žena je uvijek govorila da se sa takvima dobro skužim. Ne znam kako smo došli na temu "onih koji su radili za udbaše" ali nabacih mu bez spominjanja imena i puno detalja situaciju sa Domagojem, samo kao primjer "da smo i mi imali slične provokatore". Dugo me promatrao i upitao. "Slušaj je možda taj vaš bio iz Stare Pazove?" Kimnuh glavom zbunjen, premalo sam rekao za to da donese takav zaključak. "Zvao se Domagoj?". Oklijevao sam malo, ostalo je još u meni onoga "gledaj svoja posla". Nasmiješio se. Pročitao me što obzirom na posao koji je radio i nije bilo čudno. "Budi bez brige sada ima drugi identitet i vani je među našima iz dijaspore, mi smo mu pomogli." Šutio sam, pitati za detalje takvih stvari uopće nije bilo pametno. Ostalo je u meni ono "što se manje petljaš gdje ti nije mjesto time imaš manje glavobolje." Otpio je gutljaj kave uz smješak i produljio. "Ne bih ti rekao niti riječi ali ona druga strana sve zna o njemu, a on je siguran, pa ne bih volio da živiš u zabludi." Zapalio je cigaretu i puhnuo dim. "Pred početak rata već je radio za nas, jednostavno nije mogao protiv sebe. Oni drugi su mu samo djelomično vjerovali pa je ubrzo pokupio ženu i djecu i prešao u Hrvatsku. Radi sigurnosti smo ga poslije prebacili vani. Čovijek je u jednom razdoblju jednostavno prihvatio igru onih iz udbe. Dao bi im povremeno ponekoga koji je nešto sitno lajao ali koliko mi znamo taj bi dobio do tri četiri mjeseca zatvora, ne više, znaš onaj sustav, tek da ga zastraše da šuti. Sa druge strane uvijek bi im javio za krupnije kriminalce koji su do jučer bili bez love, a danas kod njega u gostioni častili ekipu pićem. Taj miks ga je držao da bude koristan i djelomično su mu vjerovali. Za nas je ipak odigrao par dobrih rola na početku. Povezao se sa našima u DB-u još krajem osamdesetih. Kada je postalo opasno organizirali smo mu da se prebaci kod nas potom negdje u inozemstvo pod novim identitetom. Nikoga nije uništio koliko znamo, samo je tu i tamo netko od onih koji ionako nisu pazili gdje što pričaju dobio malo po prstima. Prijavio bi ih za priču uz mišljenje da ne organiziraju ništa. Kada zbrojiš puno više nam je koristio na kraju, izlažući riziku sebe i obitelj, nego što je štete napravio." Ostao sam zbunjen. Ne zbog onoga što sam čuo već iz saznanja da je i Domagoj u većem dijelu "gledao svoja posla" koliko je mogao, odnosno biznis u gostioni i laku lovu. Da li je prekoračio granicu "cinkajući" obične ljude koji bi popili koju više nisam znao. Na kraju je riskirao sve što je imao za nešto u što je na početku života vjerovao. Nisam mu želio suditi u sebi, isto tako nisam ga ni opravdavao. Zaključio sam da ipak nije do kraja igrao po pravilima. Pitanje morala oko svega prepustio sam drugima. Pravac Hamburg Ušao sam kod Benny-ja i odmjerio klijentelu. Samo trojica, nije ni čudo u 11 sati ujutro. Za šankom su bila dva lika iz Novog Beograda i gnjavili Marka. Jova pjesnik je sjedio sam za stolom i pisao nešto na žutom papiru iz mesnice. Polako sam prilazio šanku. Jova me snimio. "Ej Djoni!" Mahnuh mu rukom dok sam odmjeravao one likove za šankom. Jedan mi je bio poznat "Aca psina", strojni tokar i službeno ne baš uspješan bokser, a neslužbeno "šampion". Normalno šampion je bio samo za svoje članove iz ekipe, gdje je i bio "zamjenik" glavnog. Sitna banda sa Novog Beograda narajcana da su "pravi dečki". Sa njima nikada nismo bili u sukobu ali djelovali su kao da su popili malo više. Aca je upravo pričao Marku. "Znaš onaj. Žali se Zemunac: Kad god jebem peku me oči. Prokleti suzavac za samoobranu." Lik do njega je uvlakački prasnuo u smijeh. Nije mi bio poznat ali po uvlakačkom stilu je očigledno bio tek pripravnik u bandi. Naslonio sam se na drugi kraj šanka i pogledao Marka. Dok je brzo prilazio davao mi je znak rukom koja onim kretenima nije bila vidljiva. Nedvojbeno je pokret na dolje značio "budi miran nije bitno". Osmijehnuo sam se, trenutno i nije bilo bitno, došao sam drugim poslom. Ee al zbilja vrh pises... To ti imas cili roman?? :aplauz: :aplauz: :occasion: :aplauz: :occasion: Slažem se vrh pisanje, samo sporo hehe Salu na stranu, odlično procitao sam u jednom dahu i cekam, cekam, cekam.... :-) Hvala Trisha i Gastro, prvi dio je napisan i ima oko 110 stranica, drugi dio se piše. Bilo bi mi drago da se javi još poneko sa kojom kritikom, izuzev one o proredu. ovdje na forumu mi malo posloži tekst "po svome" ali mislim da sam skužio kako kopirati na pravi način. Ako se nekome sviđa pisanje to doživljavam da mislimo na sličan način :D uglavnom svaki komentar dobro došao (kritike isto tako) :smoke: Ja se ozbiljno preplacujem za cili roman :) masu gluposti procitam pa bi bilo super za promjenu novo kvalitetno proitat :) Djoni, odusevljen sam pricom jer je prica iz tvog, kao i mog vremena i prepoznajem sebe u mnogo čemu. Nijesam mlad i lijep kao Trisha ali očigledno da je stivo za sve generacije :uupss: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: Jel potrebno uopće što reči? Najbolje da bubneš odmah u neki od ebook formata kako bi imali što raditi na godišnjem odmoru. Dobar si.. tematika odlična.. samo rokaj... Sent from my Mobikita! :natak2: me (http://www.cosgan.de/images/midi/tiere/g060.gif) (http://www.cosgan.de/smilie.php) ak ste vi svi skupa normalni :smoke: Pravac Hamburg Osmijehnuo sam se, trenutno i nije bilo bitno, došao sam drugim poslom. Naslonio se na šank. "Djoni ti si uvijek bio hladne glave, ostani miran, molim te. Pusti ona dva kretena, imao sam tuču u objektu prošlog mjeseca, zatvoriće me ako ponovno bude frke." Klimnuh glavom uz kiseli osmjeh. "Nemaš frku Mark, samo sam te došao pitati da li bi nam posudio neku od tvojih auto karti, znaš da putujemo do Hmburga?" Klimnuo je glavom. "Nema problema, samo moram naći, dođi večeras." "Poslaću Škota ja imam još posla. Oko sedmice, može?" Nasmiješio se u olakšanju, izgleda da je i on znao za onu tuču od prije pet godina između Ace psine i mene. "Ma čim odu idem potražiti. Onaj kreten Psina je ponovo kupio rabljenog fiću pa sad kao slavi." Šaputao je brzo. Klimnuh glavom. "Trebaš pomoć sa njima?" "Ne, dolaze mi Čerkez i Pacov za desetak minuta najkasnije." Čerkez je bio Markov najbolji prijatelj samo za razliku od Psine on doista i je osvojio tri puta za redom prvo mjestu u natjecanju u amaterskom boksu u Novom Sadu. Uz sve to je znao i nekoliko džudo zahvata pa je bio jebeno neugodan ako bi ga netko nagazio. U ostalom je bio "pravi dečko i ljudina". Pacov je vodio amatersku ekipu u hrvanju slobodnim stilom i često sparingovao sa Čerkezom. Klimnuh glavom. "Je Psina i ovog fikusa ofarbao u crno?" "Naravno." Namignuo mi i pljesnuo me po ramenu. Pišalo mi se ali nisam htio odlaskom do wc-a izazivati vraga. Frka mi nije trebala, sutra smo mislili krenuti. Kraj je proljeća i dovoljno toplo. Krenuo sam prema izlazu, za sada je sve izgledalo u redu, Psina me bacio na Ignore. Sve mi je i bilo logično. Ovaj dio Zemuna je bio teritorij Doka i Smrde. Međutim Dok je završio "na godišnjem" dobro pažen, a još bolje čuvan u nekom od zatvora. Smrda je prije tjedan dana doživio prometnu i ležao u bolnici na Bežanijskoj Kosi. Po pričama ostat će još dosta u bolnici. "Kajmani" kako je sebe nazivao Acin čopor su nanjušili situaciju da se malo "kurče" dok velike morske psine nisu u igri. Ostatak Dokove grupe su činila tri lika sa gomilom mišića "koje je lakše bilo preskočiti nego zaobići". Ovi se nisu usudili ništa poduzimati dok šef ili zamjenik nisu u igri. Prošao sam pored Jove i namignuo mu. Nasmješio se. Naša ekipa je bila jedna od rijetkih koja nije tjerala sprdnju sa njim, a on je to cijenio. Po definiciji je bio teška kukavica, a po lječničkim nalazima lud. Sve je djelovalo ok kada sam začuo Psinu iza sebe. "Djoni nećeš popiti u čast mog novog auta?" Počelo je, ipak nije moglo proći "tek tako". Polako se okrenuh. Aca je bio za glavu niži od mene ali "nabijen" mišićima. Imao je pomalo krive noge i lice koje je podsjećalo na buldoga, zato su ga i zvali Aca Buldog ili još češće Aca Psina. Okrenuo se i leđima naslonio na šank, podupirući se laktovima o rubove. Gledao je u mene. Slegnuh ramenima. "Čestitam ali danas dosta vozim pa ne pijem ništa." Sada se i onaj mali debeli pobočnik oslonio leđima uz šank promatrajući me sa zajedljivim osmjehom. Njemu je izledalo kao da počinje psihopatska zabava. Aca se uputio iza šanka i dohvatio bocu šljivovice i čašu. Promatrao sam ga kako se vraća i stavlja čašu od dva deci na šank potom je do pola puni rakijom. Naklonio se i ponovno leđima oslonio na šank. "Popij jednu u čast moga novog auta toliko mi duguješ kao prijatelju." Pomislih da bi rađe bio prijatelj nekoj morskoj psini nego njemu, od ovog prvog sam znao što mogu očekivati ali ovaj drugi je imao problem nedostatka osobnosti. Iza njihovih leđa Marko me molećivo gledao no stajao je odmah do kase. Iz prethodnih sličnih situacija sam znao da iza kase ima olovni bokser i da je "zajeban igrač" ako dođe do frke. Polako sam prišao šanku pazeći da između mene i Psine ostane veći razmak kako me ne bi mogao iznenada udariti. Još je stajao naslonjen na šanka uživajući u trenutku slave pred onim malim debilom. Popio sam gutljaj i vratio čašu na šank. "Sretno sa autom." Nastojao sam ovo reći normalnim tonom. Polako sam se okrenuo i pošao prema vratima. hebiga valjda će ga to zadovoljiti. Nisam želio Marku raditi frku, a i meni samom nije trebala. Bio sam na pola puta do vrata kada se proderao. "Vraćaj se i poloči to do kraja jebem te šuntava." Ovaj put sam se brzo okrenuo. Još kod okreta sam se prebacio u manji raskorak kako bih brzo mogao povuči jednu nogu i prijeći u gard. "Natjeraj me!" Psina nije stigao reagirati Jova je iznenada skočio. "Deečki da čujete moju novu pjesmu." Podigao je onaj komad papira iz mesnice i započeo uz smješnu gestikulaciju. "Dunave Dunave ja tebe molim Dunave Dunave ti mene ne moliš Dunave Dunave JA TEBE MOLIM opadni ..." "Umukni luđače ludi pi..%..a ti materina." Proderao se Psina. Dograbio je čašu ispred sebe i bacio je u Jovinom pravcu. Razbila se do njegovih nogu. Uplašeno je poskočio. Pišalo mi se. Jova je stajao zbunjen. Želio je malo izigravati budalu i na taj način smiriti situaciju i pomoći mi. Nisam od njega očekivao toliku privrženost. Jova nije loše postupio. Psihopati su voljeli ponižavati ga raznim komentarima pogotovu kada malo više popiju. Samo Psina nije dovoljno popio. "Jovo gubi se odavde. A ti Djoni dođi i poliži ovo sa šanka, poslije ću ti dosuti još." Psina je bio u navali bijesa. Jova je pogledao u mene pa u pivsku bocu na stolu za kojim je sjedio. Nije me želio napustiti i vjerojatno mu se muvalo po zbunjenom mozgu da bi možda mogao uporabiti bocu kada je već tako mršav i sitan. Kratko sam skrenuo pogled i namignuo Jovi. Nastojao sam da mi glas bude mekan i ugodan kako bih ga smirio. "Idi Jovo molim te ovo nije tvoj problem." Jova me pogledao i polako se uputio ka izlazu. Kada je zatvorio vrata za sobom čuli smo ga kako trči. Sada nas je bilo dva na dva. Nije bilo sumnje da su znali da je Marko "moj igrač" budući da se onaj mali debeli okrenuo prema Marku. Ovaj je stajao prekriženih ruku desna šaka mu je bila prekrivena nadlakticom lijeve. Znao sam da već ima bokser u šaci. Psina je polako posegao rukom iza leđa i ispod jakne izvukao olovnu cijev. Onaj mali debeli je ispod jakne izvukao komad lanca i zavrtio ga. Bili su u prednosti, ja nisam imao ništa, Marko nije mogao do svoje cijevi, bila je na drugom kraju šanka. Psina se zločesto cerio. "Sada se vraćaj nazad i poliži ovo, kasnije ti dospem još." Pogledao je malog debelog. "Ti drži Marksa na oku i ako pokuša izvući nešto od onih svojih stvarčica daj mu malo Engelsa po glavi." Grohotom se nasmijao svome vicu. Polako sam se povukao u gard. Čak i da popijem sve što natoči ovaj luđak će me iscipelariti. Bilo je jasno. Željeli su malo proširiti nadzor nad teritorijem i lupiti reket Marku, a na žalost ja sam mu dobro došao za to i još bolje da poravna staru sramotu. Pišalo mi se. Brzo sam pogledao u pravcu Jovine boce od pive i odustao. Nisam znao sa tim. Godinama sam bio u "Wing Tchun-u" i bio sam dobar sa šakama. Računao sam i na par zahvata iz Aikido-a koje me Škot naučio. Bilo mi je pomalo hladno i pišalo mi se. Pogledah Marka. On je gledao između mene i onog malog sa lancem. Čekali smo odmjeravajući se tko će prvi započeti. Vrata su se iznenada otvorila. Psina je otvorio usta. Bacio sam brzi pogled na vrata i opustio se. Na vratima su stajali Čerkez i Pacov. Čerkez je polako krenuo prema šanku. Psina je je sklonio onu cijev i mahnuo malom debelom, ovaj je zbunjeno počeo motati lanac. Čerkez je zastao na metar i pol od Psine. Marko je mahnuo prema meni. "Djoni ti žuriš, vidimo se na cugi kasnije." Polako sam se okrenuo i pošao ka vratima. Polako sam zatvorio vrata za sobom, pazeći da budem što tiši, nisam im želio smetati. Pišalo mi se. Okrenuo sam se i pogledao po parkingu. Lako sam locirao crnog fiću sa sportskim crno bijelim trakama na donjem rubu i podignutim poklopcem motora "radi boljeg hlađenja". Na prednjem staklu u kutu je bila naljepnica sa natpisom "Kaimans". Polako sam mu prišao i pogledao gore i dolje niz ulicu. Bila je pusta. Otkopčao sam hlače i krenuo od motora. Kada sam zapišavao vozačka vrata i kvaku začuo sam zvuk motorcikla na visokim okretajima i škripanje guma u zavoju. Pogledao sam u pravcu zvuka i prepoznao Škotovu žutu javu. Parkirao je uz škripu kočnica i izvukao čeličnu tanku šipku iz ruksaka na leđima. Krenuo je prema vratima kafića ne osvrćući se. Okrenuh se zakopčavajući hlače i viknuh. "Škot, Škoot!" Prepoznao je glas i okrenuo se. Brzo me locirao i prišao. "Stari je sve ok?" "Sve ok samo nemam dovoljno da zapišam druga vrata. Otkud ti ovdje?" Pogledao me uz osmijeh. "Nazvao me Jova pjesnik sav zadihan, prašio je ko lud do prve govornice." Klimnuh glavom prema vratima kafića. "Čerkez i Pacov su stigli na vrijeme, pa ih ne bi trebali smetati. Hvala ti što si došao." Pogledao me zbunjeno. "Djoni mi smo ekipa i uvijek ćemo to i biti. Zahvali Jovi što je javio." Pogledao je prema fići. "Čiji auto zapišavaš?" "Od Ace Psine normalno, samo nemam dovoljno za druga vrata." Nsmijao se. "Imam ja. Ionako nas čeka kasniji obračun sa njima, neće ovo zaboraviti." Polako je prišao drugoj strani auta i otkopčao hlače. Fino građenje likova, čvrsta fabula,životni dijalozi... Svakako zanimljivo štivo i nestrpljivo čekam nastavak ili izdavanje knjige. Nisam ekspert, niti mi je to struka, ali, pročitao sam podosta toga. Čak se malo okušao i u pisanju. Proza na tragu Šalkovića, Ferića... Bravo!!! Polako je prišao drugoj strani auta i otkopčao hlače. Pravac Hamburg Polako je prišao drugoj strani auta i otkopčao hlače. Škot je obavio posao temeljito i pedantno posebnu pažnju posvećujući kvaki na vratima i staklu. Bit će zanimljivo kada Čerkez, Pacov i Marko završe "razgovor" sa njima, a oni jedva dočekaju ući u auto. Proći će još dosta vremena dok miris iz auta nestane. Uvijek malo klizne pored stakla u vrata. Znao sam da je Marku vrlo bitno da se Psina "ohladi do daske" od ideje ponovnog dolaska u ovaj kraj. Jednostavno bio je alergičan na siledžije koje mu pokušavaju "lupiti" bilo koji reket. A i mogao si je to priuštiti. Čerkez je bio predsjednik "Zadruge Redara", dečki su pružali uslugu održavanja reda u diskotekama, kavanama, na Rock koncertima i slično. Bili su malo skuplji od ostalih, neki su radili samo vikendom ali su ih svi tražili. Bili su pouzdani i korektni, a uz to držali su se skupa i imali "dežurnu ekipu za ispomoć". Bilo je više od trideset članova zadruge i nisi lako mogao dobiti status člana. Milkani su ih poštivali do one granice koju im je ponos odredio. Jednostavno Čerkez je bio osinjak. Psina je napravio samo jednu pogrešku, nije se detaljno raspitao o Marku, da je netko bi mu već rekao za Čerkeza. Polako smo zajahali motore. Pogledao sam Škota. Onako sa onim malim ruksakom iz kojeg je virio vrh čelične šipke sličio mi je pomalo na samuraja sa katanom na leđima. Jednog od onih "specifikusa" iz Kobajašijevih filmova. Oni od Kurosave bili su mi previše klasični. Iz kafića se nije čulo ništa. Osjetio sam zadovoljstvo što je Škot došao. Ipak smo prava ekipa još od moje osme godine. Nije oklijevao niti sekunde, to je bilo jasno. Startali smo motore i zaputili se u "naš privatni prostor" kod Škota u podrumu. Petnaest minuta kasnije pili smo "Gromovaču" uz zvuke "Dire Straits-a" album "Brothers in Arms". Čekali smo Strelu i opuštali se. Strela je došao "nabrijan". Škot mu je preko telefona u par riječi objasnio situaciju, a objasnio mu je i da je pokušao javiti ali da nije imao vremena čekati dok Strelini roditelji otkriju u kom dijelu kuće ili dvorišta im je sin. Zajebano je bilo što je Strela iskoristio malo trave koju je to jutro na rastanku dobio od Tileta pa je bio na krovu sjedeći na rubu tavanskog prozora i promatrajući zbunjene roditelje kako nešto traže po garaži i podrumu. Sada je bio živčan i što se tako ponio, pa je prebacivao Škotu što nije "sačekao još par minuta" obrazlažući da bi "nas trojica lijepo rasturili ta dva govanca i bez Čerkeza". Grickala ga je savjest. Škot je pokušao biti razložan uz put mu gurajući čašu u ruku. Nije baš pomoglo. Ustao sam polako sa starog kauča i prišao Streli. Prebacio sam mu ruku preko ramena. "Strela cijenim jako da si htio pomoći ali prihvati da je Škot postupio ispravno. Pokušao te je dobiti nije išlo, a znao je da je svaka minuta bitna pa je reagirao brzo." Strela je konačno uzeo onu čašu od Škota sjeo na kauč i istrusio je "na eks". Zapalio je cigaretu i odmahnuo je glavom. "U pravu ste obojica i žao mi je što sam pizdio. Jednostavno mi je žao što sam iznevjerio." Škot ga lagano šutnu nogom u potkoljenicu. "Strela ti nikada nisi iznevjerio. Nikada. Kada smo već na tome i na ovom planu za Hamburg sjeti se onoga jutra kada smo otpratili Gogu. Ti si ostao na ulazu sam. Čuvao si odtstupnicu za nas." Škot je klimnuo glavom i podigao čašu. Strela je isto iz sijedećeg položaja podigao čašu. Sve tri čaše su se spojile, potom smo ispili. Nitko nije rekao ništa, nije niti trebalo. Ja sam se osjećao mali dijelić usrano budući da im nikada do kraja nisam objasnio to jutro sa Gogom. Jednostavno to je bila stvar koju im nisam mogao reći, a oni nikada nisu niti inzistirali na nekom detaljnom obrazloženju. Jednostavno sam ih pozvao te noći prije osam godina i oni su bili tu. Puno puta prije i nakon toga su bili sa mnom kada je trebalo. Danas su ponovno bili sa mnom, do kraja. Škot je spustio čašu na policu pored gramofona i dohvatio cigarete. Kada je ugasio šibicu pogledao je Strelu. "Dogovor je sutra ujutro, pet sati. Marko nam bude dao večeras kartu Austrije i Njemačke, ostalo već znaš dogovorili smo jutros. Jedno spavanje kod tvoje prijateljice u studentskom domu u Zagrebu, a slijedeća gdje stignemo. Krenemo iz Zagreba oko pet ujutro i kamo stignemo, nadam se negdje iza Minhena." Strela je klimnu glavom. "Pustio sam Olgi poruku jutros. Zvala me nakon toga. Nema frke mjesta za spavanje u domu ima. Kraj je ispitnog roka i svi bježe doma, a na ulazu ništa posebno ne kontroliraju dok je mir." Nasuo sam si još jednu i sjeo na kauč. Zapalio sam cigaretu držeći čašu među koljenima i povukao dubok dim. Potom sam uzeo čašu u ruku i otpio. "Dečki ja idem po špiritno kuhalo, a i sada mi palo na pamet da bih trebao obići i Jovu pjesnika, ako ga nađem. Ipak je imao muda i postupio na kraju pametno." Škot odmahnu rukom. "Lud ne znači i glup, neki nazovi normalni su gori od njega." Klimnuh glavom. Sat kasnije sam bio u dvorištu stare ruševne kuće. Iza kuće su bila dva poljska wc-a, a u samoj kući nekoliko vlažnih soba je bilo preuređeno u nužni terenski smještaj za radnike "Građevine Zemun". Jova je od socijalnog i lokalne mjesne zajednice dobio stambeni prostor u vidu "posebnog zidanog objekta " u dvorištu. U biti to je bio niski zidani drvarnik sa zemljanim podom. Kada je po nalazima liječnika bilo jasno da Jova "nije čist" društvena zajednica ga nije mogla pustiti tek tako. Kako je bio neuračunljiv samo po pitanju "odgovornog obavljanja radnih dužnosti", a jedini napadi koje je imao su bili oni da glasno recitira svoje pjesme nije trebao ići u "ludaru". Dodijelili su mu minimalnu invalidsku mirovinu kao sredstva za život i drvarnik u dvorištu kao smještaj. Kasnije je ekipa privremenih stanara kuće iz "Građevine Zemun" malo uredila taj drvarnik. Postavili su pod od slomljenih kamenih ploča za pločnike i uredili zidove materijalom ukradenim iz firme. Prije žbukanja Mile Zubar mu je besplatno uveo struju spajajući se preko one kuće, a uz blagoslov mjesne zajednice koja je i odredila neki minimum potrošnje koji mu plaća. Mile Zubar je bio električar ali je u mladim danima u obračunu klanova u predgrađu "jednim udarcem izbijao par zuba iz vilice". Tako je ostao "Mile Zubar". Polako sam krenuo iza kuće gdje je bio Jovin preuređeni drvarnik. Sunce je više nego ugodno grijalo. Jaknu sam prebacio preko ramena držeći je jednom rukom, u drugoj sam nosio plastičnu vrećicu. Zaobišao sam slavinu u dvorištu, a koja je bila jedina tekuća voda za kuću i drvarnik. Ignorirao sam blagi miris vanjskih wc-a i prišao iza kuće. Drvarnik je bio niska građevina ali Jovi to nije smetalo budući da je i sam bio nizak. Ispred drvarnika je stara murva pružala svoje grane. Ispod murve na stolici u hladu Jova je sjedio i nešto pisao na onom papiru iz mesnice naslonjenom na komad daske. Stolica je svojim izgledom jasno davala do znanja da je najbolje dane provela u nekoj firmi, a završila u smeću, odakle je Jova sigurno i pokupio i popravio. Ispred Jove na suncu je počivalo korito puno vode. Imao je stari električni štednjak na kome su samo dvije ploče radile to mu je sredio Zubar. Nije ga koristio za grijanje vode za kupanje. Sjetih se da mu mjesna zajednica plaća samo minimalnu potrošnju struje, a ona mirovina je bila jedva dostatna za kruh i nešto povrća. Jova je pazio na potrošnju struje i koristio "solarnu energiju" za vodu za kupanje. Zamjetih na kamenu uz korito sapun i ručnik. Dok sam prilazio viknuh. "Hei Jovo." Trgnuo se i poskočio sa stolice. Kada me prepoznao široko se nasmješio. "Heeeij Djoni. Bio sam kod Marka kasnije. Častio me pivom i rekao da si u redu, a Čerkez je rekao da se više ne plašim da one budale više nikada neće doći." Popravio je socijalne naočale na nosu. "Dao mi je i pivo za kasnije." Prišao mi je radosnog pogleda. "Drago mi da si tu i da te one budale nisu razbile." Potapšah ga po ramenu. "Hvala ti što si javio Škotu." Slegao je ramenima. "Pa Đoni ti i tvoja ekipa ste mi prijatelji, rekao si da idem ali sam skužio što si mislio trebala ti je ekipa čim prije da riješiš one pedere." Klimnuo je glavom. "Ma ja mislim da bi ih ti i sam razbio, gledao sam ja tebe već ranije u slično. Ali imao broj samo Škota" Jova je ponekad imao problema sa izražavanjem pogotovu kada se uzbudi. Bilo mi je drago što je javio Škotu ali mi je isto bilo drago i što je imao samo njegov broj u protivnom bi vjerojatno svi moji poznanici bili "pod alarmom". Pružih mu onu vrećicu. "Jovo sutra vozimo za Hamburg, a ovo mi je ostalo u hladnjaku pa da ne propadne dok se vratim." Zbunjeno je uzeo vrećicu i pogledao unutrašnjost. Osmijehnuo se široko. "I ti voliš Tirolsku i Zdenka sir kao i ja." Potom je malo odmahnuo glavom. "Ali zašto ne uzmeš ove mesne nareske trebat će ti uz put, a i "Navipovo crno" možeš popiti." Znao sam da Jova voli vino ali svi bi ga obično častili pivom niti ne pitajući ga što pije. Odmahnuh glavom. "Nosimo samo nekoliko limenki gotovih jela da imamo "nešto toplo" na cesti. Salamu i razne mesne nareske želimo probati uz put tamo gdje se nađemo. A od jutros ne pijem, narednih dana puno vozimo" Nasmijao se. "Joj Đoni to je super, putovati i kušati iz svakog dijela svijeta ponešto." Nadao sam se da neće dobiti pjesnički napadaj i krenuti sa svojom pjesmom u čast toga. Pljesnuh ga po ramenu i nasmješih se. "Jovo žurim samo sam ti želio zahvaliti. Ostaj mi sretno." Uhvatio me za rukav. Imao je nešto pseće u pogledu. Onaj pogled psa lutalice kojega svi šutaju, a onda naleti na nekoga tko ga samo malo pomazi i potapše po glavi. "Stani Đoni, moramo popiti malo pive za tvoj sretan put. Imam onu od Marka u hladnjaku. Sjećaš se da mi je Škot poklonio hladnjak. Hvala mu." Sjetih se da smo prastari hladnjak, veličine pola današnjeg, pokupili sa Škotovog tavana i po nalogu njegovog starog utovarili u Ladu Karavan. Dobili smo dvijesto dinara da platimo trošak odlagališta i popijemo po sok uz put. Dok je vozio Škot je snimio Jovu kako sjedi na rubu pločnika. Zaustavio je auto i kroz spušteni prozor viknuo. "Jovo tebe tražimo, da li ti treba hladnjak?" Jovo je poskočio iz svog sanjarenja i prišao autu. "Joj Škot to bi bilo super, imao bih gdje spremiti ribu sa Dunava." Jovo je nedostatak mesa u prehrani nadoknađivao loveći sitne ribice na Dunavu. Zvali smo ih "Bjelice" i "Kederi". Bilo ih je jednostavno loviti trebalo je samo umijesiti vrlo malo kruha u čvrstu kuglu istu nataći na vrh štapa, a ovaj zabosti u vodu tako da kugla od kruha bude oko 20 cm ispod površine. Kederi bi se brzo okupili oko kruha privučeni mirisom ali bi im kugla bila pretvrda da je jedu. Zato su svaku udicu sa ješkom koju bi bacio pored kugle kruha napadali u jatima. Jovo bi ih znao naloviti po kilo dvije. Reš pečene su bile ukusne i jele se sa kostima. Jovo je pogledao hladnjak u prtljažniku i upitao." "Radi li?" Škot je klimnuo glavom. "Radi ali prije uporabe pozovi Zubara da ti ga pregleda, dugo je ležao ma tavanu." Potom je otvorio zadnja vrata i mahnuo mu. "Upadaj." Jovo je kasnije oduševljeno pričao kako mu je Mile Zubar rekao da je hladnjak u odličnom stanju i da se takve stvari više ne rade. Mi smo onih dvjesto dinara popili kod Benny-ja i nismo više mislili na to. Nisam želio oduzeti Jovi nešto od jedinog piva koje je imao ali nešto u njegovom pogledu mi je govorilo da bih ga jako povrijedio ako bih odbio. Klimnuh glavom i sjedoh na onaj kamen pored ručnika i sapuna. Jova je nestao u drvarniku sa dva vrlo mala prozora i zidovima obraslim mahovinom. Minutu kasnije se vratio sa hladnom "Nikšićkom" jednom normalnom čašom i staklenkom od senfa. Meni je natočio u čašu sebi u onu staklenku od senfa. "Znaš Đoni, to sam ti mislio uvijek reći. Vi ste super dečki. Uvijek me saslušate i ne dopuštate da se drugi iživljavaju na meni tako se malo tko ponaša. Samo je Zubar isti, sjećaš se kako je nalupao one što su mi skinuli gaće?" Nasmijao se iskreno. Sjetih se neka dva kretena koje smo zvali "Dupe i Šupak". Fora im je bila da uhvate sitnog Jovu i skinu mu hlače i gaće te ih umotaju u kuglu. Potom bi se dobacivali sa istim dok je jadni Jovo samo u košulji trčao od jednog do drugog i vrištao "Vrati mi, vrati mi". Jednom je naišao Zubar sa posla kad su izvodili isti šou. Zastao je i pogledao predstavu potom im vrlo ozbiljnim glasom rekao. "Žurim doma na ručak ali imam vremena za par zahvata." Nazočni pričaju da je trajalo tridesetak sekundi i tri zuba. Stari Zubar je još uvijek bio u dobroj formi. Potom je pomogao Jovi da se obuče uzeo svoju električarsku torbu i otišao doma kao da se ništa nije dogodilo. Jova ustade sa stolice i držeći onu staklenku u ruci blago me udari po ramenu. "Djoni, a ti i Strela ste razbili Kuglu kada mi je oteo novac." To sam već zaboravio. Kugla je bio sitni džepar ali je trenirao boks u "pero lakoj". Povremeno bi sjedio na gajbi od pive ispred trgovine i pio "bombice", odnosno male boce od jedan deci konjaka. Snimio je Jovu da izlazi iz trgovine i uz ono malo stvari u vrećici ima i bocu crnog vina. Svi su znali da se Jova časti crnim vinom samo kada podigne onu crkavicu od mirovine na socijalnom. Kugli je to bio znak. Pogledao je uz i niz ulicu, bila je pusta, ustao je prišao Jovi i zavukao mu udarac šakom u trbuh. Dok je Jova još ležao na zemlji izvukao mu je ofucani novčanik iz hlača i bocu vina iz vrećice, okrenuo se i lagano potrčao. Znao je da Jovi nitko neće lako vjerovati. Jova je tvrdio da su mu slamnati šešir dok je pecao na Dunavu oteli vanzemaljci, a da je ispod Savskog mosta vidio morskog psa. Bez svjedoka nema šanse da ga optuži. Dok je vadio Jovi novčanik iza ugla ulice smo naišli Strela i ja. Nije nas vidio. Stali smo iza velike murve, a on je trčao u našem pravcu sa bocom Jovinog vina u ruci. Trebalo nam je par udaraca. Potom mu je Strela "uručio" još dva udarca nogom i poruku da ne dolazi više u naš kraj. Polako smo prišli Jovi, koji se jedva digao na noge. Strela mu je dobacio novčanik, a ja sam mu pružio bocu sa vinom. Zamjetio sam da su mu ionako stare hlače bile poderane na koljenu od pada nakon udarca. Samo je rekao "Hvala" još nije imao daha. Mi smo produljili kao da se ništa nije dogodilo. Djelovali smo sebi jako veliki kao iz filmova. Jova me gledao otvorenih očiju i vesela pogleda. "Znaš Đoni i vi uvijek popijete piće sa mnom. Kada me neki zajebavaju ja kažem da pijem sa vama, a poznato je da "Piksiji" ne piju sa svakim. I skoro uvijek mi donesete neki poklon kada idete po robu u Mađarsku ili Rumunjsku." Strela se prezivao Pijuk. Prije nego je dobio nadimak Strela svi su ga zvali Piksi. Mi smo bili "Piksijeva ekipa". Kasnije je netko to skratio na Piksiji. Istina je da nismo pili sa svakim. Što se tiče poklona za Jovu malo sam se osjećao jadno. Uvijek bi kupili nekoliko najjeftinijih salama u Mađarskoj ili Rumunjskoj, "da pokrijemo robu" kako bi djelovalo da "nosimo iz nužde". Carinici bi obično pogledali samo ono na vrhu, a ostalo "prepipali" rukama, da se uvjere da je samo hrana. Ispod su bile kvalitetne salame i sirevi za prodaju. Jednu od tih salama koja se nije mogla prodati bi obično dali Jovi. Preostalih par komada su nam bile "za Škotovog psa i naše mačke". Bile su jeftinije od hrane za pse u našim trgovinama. Grickala me savjest. Nama je to bila fora. Imamo salamu i za Jovu. Jebi ga, zabilježih si da slijedeći put rezerviram kvalitetnu salamu za Jovu. Razmišljao sam kako je oklijevao da ode dok mu se nisam obratio i kako je gledao onu bocu od pive sa namjerom da je upotrebi u tuči na mojoj strani. Čaša mi je bila prazna. Mahnuh Jovi da mi ne dosipa ostatak pive. Polako sam ustao i pružio mu ruku. "Sretno Đoni, gdje spavate u Hamburgu, imate nekoga?" "Bez brige idemo kod Goge iz ulice znaš je." Zadržao je moju ruku u svojoj potom je poklopio drugom. "Znaš Đoni ja ne mislim da je ona kurva kako svi pričaju. Meni je uvijek djelovala pristojno iako ne baš sretna." Pustio je moju ruku. "Čuvaj se Jovo i ne plivaj daleko na Dunavu." Nasmiješih mu se. Polako sam došao do motora. Jovin komentar je bio točan i iskren ali je bio i okidač. Zajahao sam i zbunjeno navukao kacigu. Petljao sam po prekidaču. U glavi mi je polako raslo sjećanje na tu noć i to jutro. Goga Nakon dva tjedna ili nešto više, kada više nije imala niti jednu plavicu Goga je ponovno krenula u školu. Ovaj put nije nosila traperice i majice ili minicu i najlonke, nosila je dulju tamno plavu haljinu i pamučne duge čarape. Umjesto tenisica nosila je cipele sa skoro ravnom petom one koje bi prije pristajale nekoj babi iz "Mjesne zajednice" tijekom obavljanja "društveno korisnog posla". Putovala je autobusom. Onaj T-12 "Kolibri" obojen u crno je nestao iz njenog života. Meni su godine prolazile brzo. To su bile te godine oko petnaest. Gogu sam samo zamjećivao povremeno. Ponekad bih razmijenio pokoju riječ sa njom dok je stajala na prozoru i promatrala ulicu ali pazili smo i ona i ja da nas slučajno ne vidi netko tko bi to mogao prenijeti njenom starom. Gogin tata je bio "ugledan u svakom pogledu" i "čovjek sa reputacijom u samoupravnom socijalizmu". Sve u svemu ona je djelovala uplašeno što kontaktira i sa "mulcem" od 15 godina, a ja nisam želio probleme sa svojima ako se Gogin Stanko slučajno "požali" na mene "da mu "uznemiravam kćerku". Uvijek je bila onako "pristojno" odjevena u dugu ravnu haljinu, pamučne duge čarape i bapske cipele sa skoro ravnim petama. Imala je dva takva seta, crni i plavi. Znam da sam se gledajući je samo pitao da li nosi pamučne hulahopke ili ima mamin steznik sa žabicama i obične duge pamučne čarape. Djelovala je skroz skromno i bapski. Završila je srednju kemijsku na relaciji kuća – škola – kuća. Bez izlazaka, a čak i bez prijateljica. Malograđanska sredina je brzo osudila. "To je ona kurva koja je još maloljetna pobjegla sa onom barabom." Gogin tata "uzorni građanin" je samo pogoršavao sve komentarima tipa "Kćerka mi skoro pa kurva kao što joj i mater naginjala prije. Dovest ću ja nju u red kao i staru što sam doveo." Gogina majka mi je prije sličila na sve samo ne na kurvu. Uvijek je bila tiha i kada bi otišla kod neke od svoje tri prijateljice na kavu više je slušala nego što je pričala. Dalje se o njoj nije znalo ništa. Skoro ni sa kim nije imala kontakte. U crkvi sam je vidio samo par puta. Išla je krišom od muža. Gogu je čim je maturirala tata zaposlio u Galenici. Život joj se nije puno promijenio. Razlika je bilo što je sada relacija bila kuća – posao – kuća. Galenika nije bila daleko. Pola sata hoda. Išla je pješice. I dalje je pratila reputacija kurve. Šef na poslu joj je bio dugogodišnji prijatelj njenog oca. Idemo dalje? Đoni , samo daj ! Ima na ovom forumu i ljudi koji vole čitat.....nemoj slušat one koji nisu nikad pročitali ništa dulje od telegrama.... :prsti: Đoni , samo daj ! Ima na ovom forumu i ljudi koji vole čitat.....nemoj slušat one koji nisu nikad pročitali ništa dulje od telegrama.... :prsti: Hvala Boris. samo me zanima ima li 5 zainteresiranih za nastavak za 2-3 mogu postati i na pvt :D :angel: Ma sigurno ima više od petice.....je da nismo večina (na žalost) ali i to nije ništa čudno ..... piši piši... vikend je bia :D pa smo malo zaružili al tu smo :occasion: Goga Šef na poslu joj je bio dugogodišnji prijatelj njenog oca. Dobio sam svoj "Pony Expres". Škot je kupio neki rabljeni tomos T-12 "Kolibri" i skinuo mu štitnike protiv kiše te zavario nožice. Volan je je preuredio Željko Fleka. Sličio je na karikaturu od čopera. Nama je izgledao super. Strela je imao problema. Njegova mama se užasavala da joj sin vozi motor. Bilo je to preopasno za njenog jedinca. Nije dopuštala kupovinu. Strela je radio cijelo ljeto u skladištu na slaganju sanduka i pakiranju robe preko omladinske zadruge. Pred kraj ljeta dovezao je stari tomos automatic sa velikim rezervoarom i ponosno ga parkirao ispred omladinskog doma. Motor je bio u lošem stanju. Tako smo imali praktičnu zabavu narednih par mjeseci pod nazivom "srediti Strelin krš". Savjetima, a ponekad i praktično pomagao nam je Željko Fleka, tada već stručni automehaničar. Omladinski dom je već tada u dijelu zabave vodio Marko Dileja. Odnosno još je bio Dileja, kasnije kada je otvorio kafić polako se taj nastavak izgubio, ostao je samo Marko. Marko je već tada pored stolova za stolni tenis zaljepio par postera Benny Hilla. Tako smo omladinski počeli zvati "Kod Benija". Kasna jesen je bila topla, a mi smo to koristili za điranje skuterima. Tada sam prvi put zamjetio da još netko priča sa Gogom. Prolazili smo ulicom i Goga je bila na prozoru, to su joj izgleda bili jedini izlasci. Ispod prozora je stajala Bosa i nešto pričala uz osmjeh. Kratko sam joj svirnuo. Na zvuk sirene sa skutera je podigla glavu i mahnula mi. Bosa je pogledala za nama. Kada smo se smjestili za stol u omladinskom Beniju i dohvatili ona tri "Jupi" gazirana soka Strela nije izdržao. "Koji ku..$..c sada onaj lezbos priča sa Gogom? Ako joj stari čuje da priča sa tom lezbačom tek onda će nahebati." Škot ga je prijekorno pogledao. On je jednostavno po prirodi bio džentlmen i nije mu ležao Strelin komentar. "Jebi ga Strela Bosa nije loša osoba samo nije imala sreće, a nema neke potvrde da je lezba." Strela je otpio malo Jupija i pogledao pažljivije cijeli prostor. Kada se uvjerio da Insekt i Vojislav nisu tu izvukao je cigaretu i zapalio je. Insekt je bio "mamin sin" miran i poslušan i sa sedamnaest godina. Da je vidio Strelu da puši odmah bi to prijavio mami, a ova Strelinim roditeljima. Od Strele je već jedan put dobio batine radi cinkanja ali je to samo napravilo veću frku. Problem smo riješili tako da smo ga stavili "na led" za druženje. Strela nije dalje komentirao, uživao je u cigareti. Nisam se slagao sa njegovim mišljenjem ali nije mi se niti raspravljalo sa njim. Slijedeća tema su bile cure iz kvarta, sve drugo je palo u zaborav. Slijedećeg dana sam vozio polako prema kući. Put me je vodio kroz Goginu ulicu. Bilo je kasno poslije podne i očekivao sam je možda na prozoru. Kada sam skrenuo u ulicu zamjetio sam da je prozor prazan. Bio sam u sporoj vožnji budući da sam želio živcirati svoju bivšu curu koja je stanovala ulicu prije. Dok sam prolazio pored nje mahnuo sam joj. Kao odgovor pokazala mi je srednji prst i nasmiješena se naslonila na ulazna vrata. Znao sam da će slušati zvuk motora nadajući se da ću popizditi i dodati gas. Iznenada se pojavila Goga na prozoru. Kada se uvjerila da je ulica pusta mahnula mi je više puta. Spustio sam gas na minimum i kada sam prišao kući isključio motor. Parkirao sam skuter i prišao prozoru. "Bambi molim te odnesi danas ovu poruku Bosi." Gurala je presavijeni komad papira prema meni. Primih ga u ruku. "Izvini ne smijem više tata je doma." Nestala je sa prozora. Ostao sam zbunjen ali sam se brzo pokupio. Nisam joj želio raditi probleme. Dok sam vozio prema Bosi mozgao sam o ovome. Bosa je boravila par ulica dalje kod bake kao i uvijek kada na kratko dođe iz Njemačke u Jugu. Poruka je bila samo dvostruko presavijeni komadić papira zaljepljen sa malo selotejpa. Mogao sam lako pažljivo ukloniti selotejp pročitati je pa vratiti selotejp na mjesto. Nije mi se dalo raditi tako nešto. Pozvonio sam na ulaznim vratima. Otvorila mi je Bosa. Bila je iznenađena. Pružih papir prema njoj. "Ovo ti šalje Goga. Zamolila me da ti dostavim." Bosa uhvati papir sa dva prsta i gurnu ga u džep kućne haljine. Nasmiješila mi se. "Bambi ti si izrastao u pravog dečka. Ajde uđi molim te samo kratko na piće." Malo sam dvojio ali mi nije dala izbor. Odmakla se od vrata i zapovjedno pokazala palcem ka unutrašnjosti. Ušao sam i sačekao da zatvori vrata. Polako je krenula ispred mene niz dugi hodnik. I kuća njene bake je bila u starinskom stilu. Dugi hodnik sa prozorima prema dvorištu na jednoj strani i ulaznim vratima u sobe na drugoj. Polako sam išao iza nje slušao zvuk drvenih potpetica i promatrao tu zamamnu zadnjicu kako se njiše u ritmu koraka ispred mene. Pomislih da stvarno ima dobro dupe, šteta što je hroma. Ušli smo u sobu na kraju hodnika. Po relativnom neredu i gomili razbacanih ženskih sitnica bilo je jasno da je to njena soba. Pokazala mi je na jednu od starinskih fotelja i počekala da sjednem. "Bambi što piješ? Hoćeš kolu ili hladno pivo? Ako već voliš nešto žešće imam odličan Čivas iz Njemačke?" Dvojio sam, želio sam popiti kolu ali nisam želio ispasti pičkica pred njom. "Može malo Čivasa." Izašla je kroz vrata i odkloparala prema kuhinji. Dok je izlazila primjetio sam da su drvena platforma i potpetica na njenoj lijevoj papuči više od onih na desnoj. Tako je pokušavala kompezirati kraću nogu. Vratila se i položila poslužavnik sa dvije čaše viskija i jednom čašom kole na stol ispred mene. Uzela je čašu viskija i sjela na krevet preko puta mene. Skužila je moju neodlučnost. Prekrižila je noge, kućna haljina se rastvorila malo više. Zamjetih da nosi najlonke, neke sa točkicama i romboidima. Imala je i dobre noge. Zazveckala je ledom u čaši. "Živjeli Bambi." "Živjeli." Otpio sam kratak gutljaj. Nije mi pasao okus viskija. Polako spustih čašu na stol. Nisam želio odmah posegnuti za kolom. Bosa je izvadila iz džepa cigarete i zapalila. Potom me pogledala i ponudila mi kutiju. Znao sam zapaliti tu i tamo poneku cigaretu. Ove su bile neke mentol, skužio sam po kutiji. Polako uzeh cigaretu i počekah da mi zapali elektroničkim upaljačem. "Bambi hvala ti što si mi donio poruku. Još više što je nisi čitao. Pravi si dečko." Otpila je gutljaj. "Goga je u zajebanoj situaciji i ja ću joj malo pomoći možda. Ali neka sve to ostane između nas." Pričali smo još oko pola sata. Uglavnom me ispitivala o događajima u kraju i o mom životu. Potom sam se pokupio. Ispratila me do vrata. Na rastanku me brzo poljubila u obraz. To joj je bilo teže izvesti, već sam bio dosta viši od nje. Nasmijala se i zatvorila vrata. Te sam večeri drkao na Bosu, samo u mojoj mašti je imala jednake noge, lijepi ten i agresivniji seksualni nastup prema meni. Bosa je skoro desetak godina starija od mene. Jedno vrijeme je radila kao tekstilni tehničar u tvornici ženskog rublja. Imala je veće grudi "oblik kruške" uzani struk i dobru zadnjicu. Imala je lijepo lice i punije usne ali su isto kvarili ožiljci od prištića. Ožiljke je pokušavala pokriti puderom i šminkom. Jedna noga joj je bila kraća i to je bio definitivni minus. Nakon više neuspješnih veza prije sedam godina se pokupila i otišla za Njemačku. Tada se to još moglo bez posebnih jamstava. Našla je posao u nekoj tvornici rublja i dolazila jedanput godišnje u "stari kraj". Ostajala je samo par dana. Jedino što je od odlaska u Njemačku više nitko nije vidio sa nekim dečkom. Često je dolazila sa nekim njemicama, navodno prijateljicama. Znale su se šetati "pod ruku" ali ništa više. Krenula je priča da je Bosa "promijenila obalu" odnosno sa dečki se prebacila na cure. Takve priče kada jednom krenu uvijek ostanu u igri. Narednih dva tjedna sam prenio još par poruka i vidio više razgovora na prozoru. Meni se činilo da povezujem stvari. Gogin bivši dečko Dejan je prije više od godinu dana otišao za Njemačku. Sigurno joj se nije mogao javljati telefonom sa njenom situacijom u kući. Znao sam da joj nije mogao ni pisati. Bosa je vjerojatno kurir. Nije mi bilo bitno, pomalo mi je bilo zanimljivo ono piće sa Bosom nakon što bih joj uručio poruku. Pričala je o mnogim stvarima u Njemačkoj, a uz to i o prijateljicama. Ja sam pijuckao čivas i kolu pušio njene mentolke i gledao u njene noge, uvijek u nekim seksi najlonkama i grudi u velikom dekolteu. Bilo mi je ugodno. Par puta sam je nazvao telefonom i navratio bez poruke. Bila je jako ljubazna, razgovor je trajao duže uz piće su bile i grickalice. Ja nisam poduzimao ništa. Ona se samo smiješila svjesna da je seksualni objekt za mene. Mislim da joj je to pasalo. Jednom prigodom me je upitala: "Bambi jesi već bio sa ženom? Mislim znam da si imao cure ali jesi ikada išao do kraja?" Imao sam sedamnaest godina. Još prije godinu dana sam "skinu mrak" kako smo to nazivali. I zadnja veza mi je bila više seksualna. Otpio sam gutljaj i klimnuo glavom. Prebacila se na drugu temu. Više to nije pominjala. Nakon dva tjedna zazvonio je telefon u mojoj kući. Mama se javila i pozvala me iz sobe. "Hajde opet neka od onih tvojih." Nisam imao predstavu koja. Bio sam trenutno sam i ništa izgledno nije bilo na vidiku. Preuzeo sam slušalicu. "Halo Bambi ne smetam ti?" Prepoznao sam Bosin glas. "Ne čitam neku knjigu." "Koju knjigu?" "Lovac u žitu od Salingera." "To je dobra knjiga. Slušaj sutra idem za Njemačku ako imaš malo vremena navrati kasnije, molim te." "Doći ću." Spustio sam slušalicu. Oko šest sati navečer bio sam kod Bose. Krenulo je sa uobičajenim pićem i odmah je prešla na stvar. "Bambi ja se ne mogu dopisivati sa Gogom. Ona meni može slati pisma ali njen stari otvara sve što ona dobije, a pogotovu bi ako je iz Njemačke. Mogu li pisma za nju slati na tvoju adresu, a ti joj proslijedi?" Nije mi bila frka dobivao sam pisma tu i tamo. U mojoj kući nitko nije otvarao tuđa pisma. Pogledao sam je upitno. "Može ali mi samo reci jesu to tvoja pisma ili joj Dejan piše?" Djelovala je malo zbunjeno. Potom se nasmiješila. "Da li bi ti smetalo da joj piše Dejan?" "Ne ni najmanje." "Onda čemu pitanje?" Prebacila je nogu preko noge. Nosila je neke crne čipkane čarape. Dobro su joj ocrtavale listove i koljena. "Te čarape su ti jako seksi." Nasmiješila se potom ustala. Otišla je do ormara i donijela dvije kutije. Na slikama na kutijama su bile scene seksa. "Ovo sam donijela za nekog prijatelja. Porno filmovi. Do danas nije došao po to, pa mislim da bi tebi i tvojoj ekipi možda dobro došlo." Zbunjeno sam uzeo kutije sa filmovima. To je to ja sam za nju samo klinac drkadžija. "Slobodno neka ide na moju adresu, dostaviću Gogi svako pismo ne otvoreno." Digao sam se i krenuo prema vratima sobe. "Čekaj." Okrenuo sam se. Prilazila mi je polako. "Za sada samo ovo." Uhvatila me sa obije ruke oko vrata i privukla nadolje. Ljubila me dosta dugo. Više je ona meni gurala jezik u usta nego ja njoj. Potom me polako odgurnula malo od sebe. Bio sam još ošamućen od poljupca. Okrenula se i zbacila one papuče sa nogu. Potom je posegnula ispod kućne haljine i skinula hulahopke. Polako ih je složila u paketić i prišla mi. Pružila je paketić prema meni. "Ako ih iduće godine doneseš kada se vidimo, biće i mnogo više od ovoga. Sutra putujem, sada idi molim te." Klimnuo sam glavom i krenuo prema vratima. Otpratila me je do izlaznih vrata onako bosa i poljubila još jedan put. Ovaj put je bilo kratko. Potom je izvadila maramicu i uz osmjeh obrisala ruž sa moga lica. "Bambi ako je na pismu tvoje ime malo podvučeno tada pišem tebi i to pismo slobodno otvaraj." Vrata su se zatvorila. Zbunjeno sam otišao do skutera sa čarapama u jednoj ruci i filmovima u drugoj. Izvadio sam gumeni natezač iz torbice na skuteru i pažljivo pričvrstio kutije sa filmovima na prtljažnik. Škotov stari ima kino projektor, a onaj prostor u podrumu smo upravo uređivali. Čarape sam stavio u džep od jakne. Zajahao sam skuter počeo sa pedalama i startao ga. Dodao sam gas, slušao je dobro. Te noći nisam spavao. Ujutro sam sjeo na skuter i krenuo u školu. Put me nije vodio tim pravcem ali sam prošao pored kuće Bosine bake. Bosin bijeli VW Buba više nije bio na parkingu. Vjerojatno je krenula sa svitanjem, put do Hamburga je dugačak. Goga Bosin bijeli VW Buba više nije bio na parkingu. Vjerojatno je krenula sa svitanjem, put do Hamburga je dugačak. Pravac Hamburg Navrato sam do Anđela i pokupio špiritno kuhalo. Isto sam mu posudio prije mjesec dana radi nekog kampiranja i ribičije. Vratio mi ga je i dodao plastičnu bocu od pola litra špirita. "Ovo nam je ostalo. Kuhalo je super." Pogledao me. Djelovao sam malo nervozno to je bilo jasno. "Putna groznica a? Hoćeš moje dvije posude od aluminja super lake su?" Okrenuo se i zagnjurio u stari ormar u kojem je držao svoje ribičko blago. Izvukao je jednu posudu sa poklopcem i gumenom trakom preko nje. Skinuo je traku i odigao pklopac. "Poklopac je tava, a montažna ručka za obije posude je unutra. Kuhalo stane u posudu." Odmjerih posude u ruci, stvarno su bile izrazito lake. "Uzimam, vratim ti čim dođemo." Klimnuo je glavom i pružio ruku. "Sretno Đoni." "Hvala." Pola sata kasnije sam ušao u poštu. Čekao me je telefonski poziv koji sam morao obaviti. Zato sam bio nervozan. Prvu pokušaj poziva je bio neuspješan. Poslao sam telegram prije polaska za Rumunjsku. Mama je poslije izvjestila da je bio poziv od neke cure iz Njemačke. Poruka je bila "sve u redu samo se javi prije polaska". Sada sam trebao direktno razgovarati. Želudac mi je radio. Prišao sam kabinama "Međunarodni" i stao u red. U Zemunskoj pošti je bilo samo dvije kabine za međunarodne razgovore. Na jednoj je pisalo "POKVARENO", a u drugoj je bila neka žena od pedeset godina. Čuo sam vani kako vrišti. "Rajko da doneseš djeci traperice "laviske", traže, a znaš koliko to ovdje košta." Uslijedila je pauza u kojoj je vjerojatno slušala drugu stranu. "Ne zanima me kada dolaziš pošalji po prijatelju! Da, smotana budalo, trebao bi imati ponekog prijatelja, a ti samo radiš i slažeš te marke, poslije za nas nemaš ni vremena ni maraka! Šalji sutra kako znaš!" Zalupila je slušalicu i uputila se prema blagajni. Niska i nabijena, gegala je kao patka. Još jedan koji se usrećio pomislih. Blagajnica mi mahnu da je razgovor naplaćen pa mogu unutra. Okrenuo sam broj. Prva tri signala je djelovalo da se nitko neće javiti. Želudac mi se malo stisnuo. Nismo pričali godinama. "Ja bitte." Gogin glas. "Halo goga Đoni je." Trenutak pauze potom oduševljeno. "Bambi to si stvarno ti? Kada dolaziš?" "Krećemo sutra, a dolazimo sva trojica kako sam ti napisao u telegramu. Ujedno sada me zovu samo Đoni pa teško reagiram kada me netko zove Bambi." Smijeh sa druge strane. "Znam Đoni ali Bosa i ja te još uvijek zovemo Bambi. Sorry to je malo jače u nama. Drago mi je da ću ponovno vidjeti moja tri viteza. Kada ste u Hamburgu?" "Za tri do pet dana ovisi koliko budemo lutali okolo." "Samo javi dan prije dolaska, to ti je par maraka u Njemačkoj, čekam vas na nekom od parkinga prije ulaska u Hamburg. Bosi je isto dragao da dolaziš, rekla je da joj obavezno javim kada budeš tu. Hajde sada da ne trošiš, kod vas je ovo skupo." "Ciao Goga." "Ciao Bam.. Đoni." Nasmijala se i pustila slušalicu. Još sam malo stajao sa slušalicom u ruci potom se uputih prema blagajni. Stvari sam spakirao za nešto više od pola sata. Onih par majica i gaća kao i rezervene traperice i tenisice su stale u okruglu putnu torbu. Istu sam imao namjeru staviti na prtljažnik. Vunenu dolčevitu sam položio preko jakne od umjetne kože. Kožne rukavice i duge gaće sam bacio preko dolčevite. Namjeravali smo krenuti sa svitanjem, a znao sam da je jutro dosta hladno na motoru. Tri luft madraca i šatorsko krilo sam stavio u okruglu JNA torbu sivo maslinaste boje. U istu sam ubacio i Streline tenisice. Strela je imao najslabiji motor pa smo ga radi dinamike vožnje nastojali maksimalno rasteretiti. Bacio sam gumene natezače preko torbi. Iz ormara sam izvukao "Serpico" kožne čizme u meksičkom stilu i položio ih pored jakne i gaća. Bio sam gotov, a nije mi se spavalo. Možda je Strela za koju putnu u Benny-ju. Okrenuh telefon. Javila se Strelina mama. Da, bio je doma ali je otišao kod Škota u podrum. Zar ne spavamo svi tamo da bi sutra ujutro krenuli skupa čim prije? Smirih je objašnjenjem da je to točno ali da je dogovor bio da se oko deset nađemo kod Škota. Vjerojatno je Strela otišao ranije pa sada pričaju. "E tko će vas znati djeco? Sretno i pamet u glavu." "Hvala i vama želim dobro zdravlje dok se ne vratimo." "Đoni pazi mi na sina. Doviđenja." Spustila je slušalicu. Njoj je uvijek trebao netko da "pazi na sina". Strela nije bio doma i neće vjerojatno doći noćas. Čudno. Nadao sam se barem razgovoru preko telefona. Škot je provodio zadnju noć sa Ljiljom u motelu "Vojvodina" kod Stare Pazove. Ljilja je vjerojatno rekla svojima da ide na službeni put. Škot je rekao svojima da spava kod mene. Na kraju još samo jedan telefonski bi izazvao težak lom. Sa Strelom sam dogovorio da se nađemo sutra ujutro oko četiri na dežurnoj benzinskoj u Zemunu. Tankamo i idemo do motela po Škota. Odatle ravno na auto cestu Beograd Zagreb. Valjda će doći ujutro na benzinsku. Teško sam zaspao. Jutro je bilo dosta svježe. Strela je došao na vrijeme. Nisam ga ništa pitao, sam će reći kada osjeti za shodno. Kako smo i očekivali na benzinskoj nije bilo mješavine. Nasuli smo regular iz prtljažnika izvadili ulje "Dvotaktol" i dosuli količinu od oka. Prvo smo dohvatili moj motor i dobro ga protresli lijevo desno. Bilo je još mračno. Strela je već platio benzu onom visokom mršavom radniku na benzinskoj. Onaj drugi niži nam je upravo prilazio. "Jutro Đoni, jutro Strela." Prepoznah Makedonca, bio je ok čovjek. "Jutro Maki, kojim dobrom?" Malo je slegao ramenima kao da želi reći "ni sam ne znam". "Jučer navečer je ovdje navratio Aca Psina. Tankao je benzu, kada sam prišao da naplatim rekao je da ti poručim, ako tankaš ovdje, da će poravnati račune sa tobom. Ti si najviše kriv za ono kod Marka. Žao mi Đoni, samo te želim upozoriti da se čuvaš." "Poruči mu, ako nije ljut kada te vidi, da mi može malo više nego popušiti. Ako je ljut šuti, u protivnom će udariti tebe da se isprazni." Strela je istupio malo naprijed. "Poruči mu i to kada se napuši Đonijevog da prelazi na moj, a Škot će ga u među razdoblju guziti da mu ne bude dosadno." Udario je Makedonca po ramenu. Ovaj odmahnu glavom. "Čini mi se da se Psina i ovaj put zajebao, kao i sa Markom i Čerkezom." Mahnuo nam je rukom i polako se udaljio. Stvari se brzo pročuju u predgrađu. Psina je morao naći nekog krivca za svoj debakl. Izgledalo mu je lakše da se javno kurči i obračunava sa mnom. Čerkeza nije smio niti pomisliti, a ne spomenuti. Vjerojatno je i ono zapišavanje imalo ulogu. Mislit ću o tome kada se vratim. Polako smo krenuli sa benzinske. Minutu kasnije smo udarili po plinu. Škot je čekao na parkingu. Već je svanulo. Dok smo ulazili na parking motela "Vojvodina" bacio je cigaretu i ugasio je petom. Nismo skidali kacige. Samo je navukao kacigu i provjerio šator pričvršćen na sjedalo. Krenuli smo odmah nakon toga. Petnaest minuta kasnije smo na auto cesti postigli maksimalnu brzinu grupe. Tempom od 90 – 100 km na sat ne bi nam puno trebalo do Zagreba. Onaj dio ceste u dobrom stanju smo brzo prošli, poslije je došao onaj lošiji. Pazili smo na rupe i aute koji su nas pretjecali. Već je uveliko bio dan i sunce je ugrijalo. Stali smo na benzinskoj da dotankamo i popijemo kavu. Sjeli smo na terasu nekog restorana odmah uz benzinsku. Pred nama su bile tri šalice kave i boca mineralne. Strela je iznenada počeo gledajući Škota. "Škot moram ti nešto reći u svezi Ljilje i ... pa recimo indirektne povezanosti sa mnom." Škot ga je pogledao glumio je zbrinutost. "Što što što? Da je nisi možda noćas nategao pa ti nezgodno kako mi to reći?" Počešao se po glavi. "Nešto se dugo zadržavala u kupaoni, već tada mi je bilo sve sumnjivo." Nasmijasmo se sva trojica. Škot je bio dobre volje. Dan je bio lijep i bili smo na cesti. Škot je uvijek bio dobre volje u tim uvjetima. Strela odmahnu rukom. "Znaš Ljiljinu prijateljicu, onu Miru?" "Onu oko koje se ti motaš već šest mjeseci? Nisam je jebao ako to pitaš, doduše imam to u planu ako ti ne požuriš i ako mi Ljilja dozvoli. Mislim da je zato i pokušala pomoći tebi da je skontaš, plaši se za mene." Škot je bio stvarno u elementu. Strela je bio malo zbunjen. Izbacio je u jednom dahu. "Noćas smo bili zajedno. Zakasnio si ti." Potražio je kutiju sa duhanom i počeo motati cigaretu. Škot je izvadio jednu svoju Drinu bez filtera i zapalio je šibicom. Okrenuo se prema konobarici koja je upravo prolazila. "Gospodična jednu pivu i tri čaše." Debeljuškasta cura u minici je samo klimnula glavom i produžila ka šanku. "Strela ovo moramo zaliti. Ali smo na cesti pa jedna piva na tri dijela. Obično "tko čeka gubi vrijeme" ali kod tebe je bilo "tko čeka dočeka", stvarno si sretni luđak." Tapšao ga je po ramenu. Piva je stigla. Natočili smo i nazdravili. "U Zagrebu slijedi nastavak." Dodao sam. Više se nismo bavili tom temom svima nam je bila poznata Strelina zaljubljenost u Miru. Ljilja je malo posredovala kod prijateljice, pazeći oprezno da ne ispadne da "gura na silu". Čim smo ispraznili mineralnu krenuli smo dalje. Kasno popodne bili smo pred studentskim domom u Zagrebu. Put je prošao bez problema izuzev razmjene psovki sa vozačima i pokojeg pokazivanja srednjeg prsta. Milicija nas je samo jedan put zaustavila čisto provjere radi. Strelina prijateljica Olga nas je čekala na parkingu ispred doma. Pokazala nam je gdje je najsigurnije da pustimo motore. Pokupili smo stvari i motore vezali skupa tankim lancem, što je bila kakva takva zaštita da ne odlutaju malo na svoju ruku. Pet minuta kasnije sjedeli smo u društvenim prostorijama i trusili neku domaću Ličku rakiju koju su držali u nekoj torbi, a samo bocu od kole na stolu. Alkohol je u društvenim prostorijama službeno bio zabranjen. Olga nas je predstavila svojoj ekipi. Malo su zazirali od nas. Čuli su za priče o Ljubi Zemuncu i dečkima iz Zemuna, a mi smo bili u jaknama od umjetne kože i mirisali na benzin i cestu. Sa druge strane i mi smo slušali slične priče o dečkima iz Novog Zagreba i obračunima negdje oko Srednjaka i Knežije. Svaka strana je bila malo oprezna prema drugoj naročito u prvih petnaest minuta. Trebalo je pola sata da se led malo otopi. Poslije je išlo lako. Priča o glazbenim trendovima najnovijim filmovima, mogućnosti za posao nakon faksa. Kada su čuli da idemo za Hamburg krenula je lavina razgovora. Ubrzo smo dobili par ponuda da možemo prespavati kod roditelja koji su u Njemačkoj. Izgleda da je pola ekipe imalo roditelje na radu u Njemačkoj. Stvarno su bili super ekipa. Olga nas je odvela na večeru u domu. Imala je dosta neiskorištenih bonova. Nije bilo ni čudo obzirom da je imala stvarno uzan struk. Bila je uredna i diskretno našminkana. Crna kosa i zelene oči. Vrlo zgodna sa simpatičnim licem u tim uskim trapericama. Više mi nije bilo čudno što je Strela dopustio sebi da glumi instituciju "Paloma Frajera za jednokratnu uporabu". Mala bi bacila svakog tko voli žene na koljena. Strela je imao hladnokrvan pristup s curama. Ako je cura rekla "Znaš bilo je lijepo ovih tjedan dana ali najbolje da ostanemo prijatelji", Strela bi to prihvatio bez sujete. Gledajući Olgu nisam se ni čudio zašto. Stvari smo pustili kod ekipe. Nakon večere Olga se ispričala "da još mora učiti ali da će nam pokazati sobu, pa ako želimo možemo se vratiti do ekipe ionako kartaju do kasno u noć". Strela je bio u nekom svom filmu i nije čuo pola objašnjenja. Škot je kao i uvijek bio hladne glave. "Hvala ali idemo sutra raaano ujutro čim izvučem ova dva međeda iz kreveta." Olga se nasmiješila i povela nas do sobe. U prolazu smo pokupili stvari. Atmosfera je bila dobra. Čulo se puno smijeha. Jedna cura i dva dečka su nam pružili papiriće sa imenima i brojevima telefona u Njemačkoj. Kome da se obratimo za "ne daj bože". Pozdravili smo se na rastanku. Čim smo se smjestili u sobi bacili smo se na umivanje i pranje iznad umivaonika. Nije nam se išlo do zajedničkih tuševa. Soba je bila dvokrevetna. Napuhali smo jedan luft madrac i izvadili vreće za spavanje. Legli smo i pet minuta kasnije ona dvojica su bili u svojim snovima. Ja nisam mogao spavati. Previše toga se vraćalo. Goga Godina je prošla brzo. Pokušali smo sa skijanjem te zime ali nije nam išlo nešto. Ja sam otkrio gitaru i prvi hit Djoni Štulića "Balkan". Polako sam umjesto Bambi dobivao nadimak Đoni. Strela je imao svoje prvo seksualno iskustvo odnosno "skinuo mrak". Škot se uz Aikido počeo baviti i ronjenjem. Skupljali smo lovu za bolje motore, "kada položimo". Ja sam uz to imao i prvu dužu vezu od šest mjeseci. Bosa je poslala sedam pisama. Pet je bilo normalno adresirano na mene. Proslijedio sam ih Gogi bez otvaranja. Dva su imala podvučeno ime. Otvarao sam ih sa radoznalošću. U prvom mi je pisala kako je putovala i da sam stvarno sladak i pravi. Napisala je nešto o tome da ide na neku višu školu i pitala me da li smo "iskoristili filmove" koje mi je poklonila. Ispod pitanja je bio nacrtan širok osmjeh. Filmove smo kod Škota u podrumu apsolvirali. Gledali smo ih više puta. U prvom su tri dečka zadovoljavali jednu curu na sve moguće načine. U drugom su dvije cure zadovoljavale jednog dečka i pomalo se zadovoljavale između sebe. To su bili klasični "super 8" filmovi bez tona. Pustili bi glazbu i gledali ih uz monoton šum kino projektora. Trajali su oko deset minuta svaki. Položili smo za A kategoriju. Još je samo falilo "nešto jače među nogama". U drugom pismu Bosa je opisivala kako je sa cimericom kupila stari stan na kredit te kako ga uređuju. Osjetila se ushićenost uređenjem stana i cimericom "koja je bila izuzetno spretna". Počeo sam pomalo razmišljati o onim pričama da je lezba. To mi trenutno nije bilo bitno u trenutnoj vezi seks je išao odlično. Moja veza se uskoro okončala, a započela je druga sa starim MZ – 150. Došlo je ljeto. Goga je i dalje gurala istu relaciju kuća – posao – kuća i izlasci "na prozor". Razgovarali smo na prozoru. Pitala me je koliko koštaju slike za osobnu i ono pasoš. Rekoh joj iznos. Preturala je po novčaniku i brojala sitno potom odmahnula glavom. "Nama dovoljno." Bilo mi je čudno. "Zar ne primaš plaću u Galenici?" Pogledala me, učinilo mi se da su joj kutevi očiju vlažni. "Đoni tata mi uzima sve, navodno štedi za mene, pušta mi samo minimum koliko mi treba." Ostao sam šokiran. Po meni to je otišlo predaleko, dalje od toga nije moglo. Kasnije sam se uvjerio da može. Posegnuo sam u džep i izvadio dvije novčanice. Pružio sam joj kroz prozor. "Vrati kada budeš mogla u životu." Pokupila je novac i zagrcnula se. Mahnula mi je rukom i nestala sa prozora. Ljeto je bilo toplo škola se završila i svi smo upisali neke faksove u "prvom roku". Škot je otišao na strojarstvo, Strela pod pritiskom roditelja na višu ekonomsku, sa planom da nakon toga završi višu građevinsku i ode u Australiju. Ja sam završio na ekonomskom. Upravo sam radio na motru kada se začuo telefon. Ušao sam u hodnik bez žurbe, veza mi se raspala prije dva tjedna, sa dva prsta sam podigao slušalicu pazeći da je ne zaprljam. Dublji malo promukao Bosin glas. "Halo Bambi." Bio sam iznenađen. "Hei Bosa." "Što radiš?" "Popravljam motor." Kao da prethodno pitanje nije bilo bitno. "Želiš doći do mene večeras?" "Mogu slobodan sam nemam ništa u planu." Nisam to rekao onako hladno kako sam želio. "Imaš još one čarape?" "Ponesi ih." "Možda da ih i obučem?" Nasmijala se. "To bi bilo fora ali pusti to sad na stranu." "Ok, oko sedam sam kod tebe, isključi baku da mi ona ne otvori vrata." Spustila je slušalicu. Vratih se da dotegnem malo vijke na auspuhu, a koje sam upravo otpuštao sa namjerom da ih zamjenim novima. Izdržaće i ovako dan dva. Istuširao sam se i navukao traperice i staru vojničku košulju. Iz ormara sam izvukao jeftinu imitaciju "Serpico" čizama. U džep košulje sam ubacio metalne "pilotske" naočale za sunce. Otvorio sam radni stol i sa dna ladice izvukao pažljivo složene Bosine čarape. Ubacio sam ih u drugi džep na košulji i navukao čizme. Krenuo sam ka motoru. Mama je dobacila vješajući rublje na špagu. "Kada se vraćaš?" Slegao sam ramenima. "Pojma ne znam." Za mnom je doletjela jedna štipaljka za rublje. Zajahao sam i navukao ručno obojenu kacigu bez vizira. Dobro je pokrivala uši ali dalje ne. Stavio sam naočale za sunce i startao motor. Izgledao sam samome sebi cool. Bosina buba je bila parkirana na ulazu u dvorište. Iza nje je bilo dovoljno mjesta da parkiram MZ. Skinuo sam kacigu i polako skidao naočale. Te godine sam gledao film "Easy Rider" koji je neki genijalac preveo kao "Goli u sedlu". Mislio sam da izgledam kao Peter Fonda kada je nonšalantno bacio ručni sat. Nadao sam se da me gleda kroz prozor. Prišao sam vratima i pozvonio. Sve ideje o cool izgledu su se raspale i vratio sam se u stvarnost. Niz hodnik se čulo kloparanje papuča sa drvenim potplatama. Otvorila je vrata. Inače je kosu bojila u plavo i nosila na lokne. Sada je bila više plava, a ispod kose su me promatrala dva plava oka. Nikada prije nisam obratio pažnju na boju njenih očiju. Uvijek sam gledao u njenu zadnjicu, noge ili grudi. Osmjeh je bio iskren i topao. Na sebi je imala istu kućnu haljinu od prošle godine samo malo više izbledjelu. "Upadaj, baka je legla pa smo skoro pa sami." Ušao sam za njom u onu sobu koju sam poznavao još od prošle godine. Nered je bio veći. Nešto rublja je bilo razbacano po ležaju, a torbica sa šminkom nemarno bačena na stol za kojim sam ranije pio. Na istom stolu je bila i otvorena boca čivasa te pepeljara sa upaljenom cigaretom. Na podu su bila dva poluotvorena kufera. Pitao sam se što je sve unutra. Pogledao sam je i čekao da počne. Prišla mi polako i položila dlanove na moje obraze. Polako i bez ikakvog pritiska savijala je moju glavu prema sebi, a potom me nježno poljubila u usta. "Sjedi." Polako sam se okrenuo i sjeo u onu staru fotelju. Odkloparala je niz hodnik i vratila se sa kolom i čašom punom leda. Ubacila je led u čaše i nasula čivas. Gurnula je kutiju sa mentolkama ispred mene. Odmahnuo sam glavom i izvadio kutiju LD-a i stari benzinski austrijski upaljač. Zapalih cigaretu. Nasmješila se. "Brzo dograđuješ osobnost, neki se rode sa tim, a neki je nikada neće imati." Nije mi bilo jasno što želi reći. "Kako misliš?" Pokazala je glavom na upaljač. "Zašto ga koristiš?" "Našao sam ga u djedovim starim stvarima, svidio mi se jako, popravio sam ga i ...." "To je razlika, uzeo si ono što ti se svidjelo, a nisi težio za nečim čime ćeš impresionirati okolicu, recimo ZIPPO ili plinski Ronson. Neki te stvari uzmu jer im se sviđaju, a neki samo zato što su poznate marke." Posramljeno sam razmišljao o onih par minuta kod dolaska, kada sam želio biti Peter Fonda. Sada mi je bilo drago što me nije promatrala, to bi bila parodija. Slegoh ramenima. "Čovjek uvijek treba uzeti ono što mu se sviđa. Ako uzima nešto što drugi smatraju da treba uzeti, a to mu se ne sviđa već isto uzima radi okolice, nije svoj." Smiješila se. "Imaš čarape?" Posegoh rukom u džep košulje i pružih joj smotuljak čipke oblikovan u hulahopke. Uzela ih je i zavukla jednu ruku u nogavicu. Lagano je pomirisala. "Nisi ih prao?" "Ne tako su dulje imale miris pa mi je ..." Ponovno se smiješila. "Tako nekako." Gledala me nježno. "Možeš ostati cijelu noć?" "Mogu nitko me ne kontrolira više, ne radim pizdarije i nemam frke sa milkanima." "Skini čizme, a ja idem po još neke stvari." Ponovno je odkloparala niz hodnik. Polako sam skinuo čizme i položio ih pored fotelje. Dok se vraćala zamjetih da nosi neke crne obične čarape. U ruci je nosila pladanj sa zdjelama. Zatvorila je vrata i počela slagati zdjele na stol. "Račići, okruglice od riže, crni kruh i slane srdele. Vino imam u ormaru." Polako je odložila poslužavnik na stolić pored kreveta i okrenula se. Gledala me. Potom je skinula kućnu haljinu. Ispod je imala samo mini čipkani grudnjak i samostojeće čarape. Nije imala gaćice. Međunožje je bilo izbrijano. Sve moje cure prije toga nisu brijale skoro ništa. Tri od četiri koje sam vidio gole se nisu brijale niti ispod pazuha. Samostojeće čarape su u to doba bile rijetkost. Cure su nosile jeftine najlon hulahopke koje bi se zarolale ispod traperica u gornjem dijelu. Polako je prilazila i ubacila ponovno led u čaše te dosula čivas. "Ne žurimo, počni se skidati kada osjetiš da si opušten." Pružila mi je čašu potom sjedajući na krevet zazvijeckala ledom u svojoj čaši. "Živjeli." "Živjeli." Tek sada sam zamjetio da ima tetovažu na lijevoj dojki onaj dio iznad bradavice koji grudnjak nije pokrivao. Mala slatka mačkica koja sjedi. Oko vrata je imala zlatni lančić sa pentagramom. "Bambi ti si dobar i čvrst." Pogledah je upitno. "Jedino tebi nije bitno što ova okolica priča o Gogi i imaš dovoljno hrabrosti da pričaš sa njom." Nisam želio pričati o Gogi. Ipak upitah. "Kako ide to sa Dejanom?" Malo čudno se nasmiješila. "Valjda dobro." Otpio sam gutljaj, iz nekoga razloga odjedanput se ni meni nije žurilo. Bilo je nečega u ovom trenutku, želio sam ga produljiti. Polako sam otkopčao par dugmadi na košulji. Bosa se smiješila potom prišla i uzela par račića na kruh. "Moramo baciti nešto u kljun inače će nas ovaj čivas brzo nokautirati." Vratila se na ležaj, očigledno je zaboravila na vino. Nasuh si malo kole u čašu. Sjedela je na ležaju i grickala račiće. Kruh je pustila na stoliću pored ležaja. Priđoh joj polako i položih ruke na ramena. Potom sam se spustio na koljena i otkopčao joj grudnjak. Grudi su se spustile prema potkoljenicama. Stvarno su bile velike i imale oblik kruške. Počela mi je dalje otkopčavati košulju. Polako. Probudio me miris kave. Sunce je probijalo kroz zavjese. Bosa je u kućnoj haljini sjedela na rubu kreveta. Nježno me promatrala. Na pladnju pored mene je bila šalica kave pepeljara i čaša soka. Polako sam posegnuo za kavom. Potom sam vratio šalicu na pladanj. Otpio sam malo soka potom se okrenuo i dohvatio cigarete sa stolića pored kreveta. Zapalio sam i ponovno uzeo šalicu sa kavom. Želio sam je izvesti do Benny-ja koji se tek otvorio ili u pizzeriju, potom se prošetati sa njom. "Što radiš poslije podne?" Upitao sam tiho. Dugo me gledala. "Bambi nećemo se vidjeti poslije podne. Nemoj me krivo shvatiti nemam nikoga ovdje ali ja nisam za tebe. Starija sam dosta i već sam u svome filmu. Kakav je takav je. Ti tek otkrivaš svoj film. Ne želim ti smetati. Dobro ti ide i nastoj dalje biti svoj. Mi ćemo se viđati ali ti ja neću biti vodič. Put ćeš pronaći sam." Otpila je gutljaj kave i počekala. Kada nisam ništa rekao nastavila je. "Sutra navečer se vidimo. Prekosutra ujutro idem. Došla sam samo obaviti nešto i idem dalje." Položila mi je ruku na podlakticu. "Stvarno si osoba." Polako sam ispijao kavu. Nisam znao što reći. Polako ugasih cigaretu u pepeljari. Počeo sam se oblačiti. Gledala me kako navlačim čizme i stavljam naočale u džep. "Vidimo se sutra navečer. Poslaću ti prave Serpico čizme i naočale kada ti se toliko sviđaju." Posegnula je rukama iza vrata i otkopčala lančić sa pentagramom. Potom je prišla i zakopčala ga oko mog vrata. Spustih joj ruku na natkoljenicu. Još je nosila one samostojeće čarape. Ljubila me polako i nježno. Nisam vjerovao da je noćas pokazala toliko tehnike i strasti. Polako je skinula jednu samostojeću čarapu i umotala je u kuglicu. Kuglicu je meni utisnula u dlan. "To ćeš mi vratiti kada dođeš u Njemačku, a doći ćeš. Do tada neka te štiti moja amajlija koju sam ti dala." Dodirnula je lančić oko mog vrata. Uzeo sam kacigu sa stola i krenuo prema izlazu. Na izlaznim vratima sam zastao. "Doći ću sutra navečer oko sedam." Klimnula je glavom potom me brzo poljubila. Izašao sam vani i zajahao motor. Trebalo mi je piće i još malo vremena da razmislim. Startao sam i zaputio se prema Škotu. Možda je i Strela tamo. Strela je bio tamo. Imao je i on "prinovu", stari MZ 125. Bilo je korozije na njemu ali motor je dobro radio. Bili smo doista zadovoljni. Škot je čekao svoj novi Tomos – Elektronik 90. Sada su to već bili motori. Popili smo koju rakiju od kruške. Škotov djed je radio te rakije. Jako je pekla. Nazvali smo je "Gromovača" skraćeno od "prži ko grom". Slijedeći dan sam proveo u polu snu. Malo sam i raspravljao sa samim sobom u glavi. Nitko nije obraćao pažnju. Navikli su da imam napade "ćutologije". Navečer sam navratio do Bose. Otključala je vrata i bez riječi smo krenuli ka sobi. Počeo sam je ljubiti i skinuo joj odmah onu kućnu haljinu. Bila je gola. Podigao sam je i odnio do kreveta. Ujutro me probudila oko četiri. Kava je čekala na stolu pored fotelja. Sjeli smo u fotelje i zapalili cigarete. Dok smo pili kavu prelazila je noktom lijeve ruke po mojoj nadlanici. "Moram se spakirati i krenuti, obavila sam jučer sve što je trebalo." Pogledah je. "Vidimo se još?" "Naravno." Položila je ruku na moju. "A ti budi svoj, pisaću ti i ponekada te nazvati." Poljubila me. "Poslaću ti ponekada ponešto po nekome. Ne želim te kupovati, samo ako mislim da bi ti se nešto svidjelo, to ću ti i poslati." Poljubila me i počela ubacivati stvari u kufere. Obukao sam se i zagrlio je. "Puno si mi pružila." Nježno je prešla prstom po mojim usnama. "Idi Bambi. Molim te." Okrenuo sam se i izašao bez riječi. Znao sam da me neće pratiti. Otključao sam vrata i skoro otrčao do motora. Startao sam i navukao kacigu. Počekao sam da se motor razbudi potom dodao gas i krenuo. Trebalo mi je neko opuštanje da razmislim. Dan sam proveo kod Škota. Pili smo pive koje je ukrao u skladištu gdje je radio preko omladinske, slušali ploče i pričali o knjigi "Galeb Jonatan Livingston". Pred kraj dana sam se zapitao koliko je Bosa imala sličnosti sa Jonatanom Livingstonom i ona je nešto nosila u sebi ali nisam znao što. Nazvao sam svoje i javio da spavam kod Škota. Mama je samo prokomentirala "Navrati ponekada doma". Dva dana kasnije smo otišli po Škotov Elektronik 90. Dok smo polako vozili natrag osjećali smo se posebno. Ovo su već bili pravi motori. Naredna dva tjedna su brzo proletjela. Bacali smo đireve znatno dalje. Izlazili na obilaznicu sa više traka i isprobavali pomalo mogućnosti novih motora. Sređivali koroziju na Strelinom motoru i auspuh na mom. Kod Benny-ja smo bili inventar navečer. Povremeno bi bacili vožnju do Slankamena u ribičiju i na malo kupanja. U pjesku na obali smo sparingovali i provjeravali što smo naučili ove godine iz tehnike "borbe prazne šake". Smirio sam se i postigao neku ravnotežu. Onaj princip Jin i Jang mi je nekako postao bliži. Jahači u magli Dugo sam čitao neku knjigu. Već je bila večer ali još za vidjela. Izašao sam da protegnem noge i razbistrim glavu. Noge su me same odnijele do Gogine ulice. Nadao sam se da je na prozoru. Polako sam prilazio Goginoj kući. Goge nije bilo na prozoru. Prozor je bio otvoren ali je u sobi bio mrak. Odlučih se ipak proći pored prozora. Iznenada Goga se pojavila. Pogledala je uz ulicu, a potom niz. Ugledala me je i mahnula. Prišao sam prozoru. "Baambi super, molila sam boga da mi netko pomogne, a sada si ti tu." "Baambi super, molila sam boga da mi netko pomogne, a sada si ti tu." Pogledah je zbunjeno. "Bosa je rekla da si ti jedini čovjek kome mogu vjerovati." Više je šaputala nego što je tiho pričala. Bio sam zbunjen ali me spominjanje Bose vezalo za problem. "Što ti treba?" "Bambi moraš mi pomoći moraš me skloniti samo do jutra i pomoći mi da stignem na željeznički kolodvor." Pogledao sam zbunjeno. "Zašto?" "Bježim od tate u Njemačku." Djelovala je živčano i prestrašeno. Zaključih da je konačni dogovor sa Dejanom pao i da se Goga ponovno seli kod njega. "Gdje je problem? Zašto ne odeš normalno pa punoljetna si?" "Jooj Bambi ne mogu sada ako ćeš mi pomoći kasnije ću ti objasniti većinu stvari. Ovo je jedinstvena prilika. Tata je otišao na neku svadbu i nema ga do jutra, a mama se nakljukala apaurinima i kao gleda "Dinastiju", bolje rečeno na sedmom nebu je. Ovo se skoro neće ponoviti. Samo mi pomozi moolim te." Već je bila na granici suza. "OK smislit ćemo nešto." "Hvataj." Kroz prozor je doljetela manja putna torba i refleksno sam je uhvatio. "Makni se." Odstupio sam par koraka od prozora. Goga se jednim spretnim pokretom prebacila preko prozora i skočila vani. Bila je jako spretna, čak joj se ni ona haljina nije zadigla. Stajala je ispred mene. "Bambi skloni me negdje i sve ću ti objasniti. Skloni me makar i u kanalizaciju." Ovo je već sličilo na histeriju. Samo su me pominjanje Bosinog imena i oči preplašene srne spriječile da pobjegnem. Uzeo sam je za ruku i povukao za sobom. Padalo mi je samo jedno mjesto na pamet. Podrum kod Škota. Zvao sam ga prije pola stata i bio je doma. Gledao je nogomet, još nije bilo kasno i nadao sam se da je ostao uz TV, problem je bio što ga nogomet nije zanimao baš puno. Dok smo stigli do Škotove kuće već je bio mrak smjestih Gogu u sjeni lipe ispred kuće i pozvonih na vrata. Otvorila je Škotova mama i pozvala me da uđem. "Ne hvala samo bih malo popričao sa njim i idem doma pa ga pozovite vani." Žena je klimnula glavom i za jednu minutu Škot je bio vani. Objasnih mu u par riječi situaciju. Kao što sam se i nadao nije puno pitao. Bio je kratak. "Idem otključati podrum, a vi uđite za dvije minute. Držite se zida i nitko vas neće vidjeti." Pet minuta kasnije smo već bili u "našem privatnom prostoru". Škot je izvana zatvorio metalne škure potom se vratio u prostoriju. Upalio je malu lampu kako bi eventualno spriječio da malo svjetla probije ispod škura. Bila je neka slaba svjetlost ili polu tama. Škot nas je pogledao. "Idem gore i za jedan sat ću reći da spavam dolje, da imam nešto raditi. Tada već mama ide u krevet i nema teorije da dođe ovdje da me pita hoću nešto jesti. Nitko drugi me neće ništa gnjaviti pa smo sigurni. Do tada ako idete u wc gore ne potežite vodu to se čuje u kući, kada ja dođem više nije važno." Uhvatih ga za ruku kada je krenuo. "Škot da pozoveš Strelu pa da ko fol on spava kod tebe, tada i neki drugi zvukovi ne bi bili čudni." Klimnuo je glavom. "Ali za sat sat i pol kada mama zagrli krevet inače znaš kako dosadna i radoznala zna biti." Nestao je u vidu lastinog repa, a ja sam ostao sam u polutami sa Gogom. Priču sam započeo skoro šaptom. "Goga daj mi sada objasni sve ovo, sada si sigurna i objasni čemu cijeli cirkus?" Šutala je igrajući se jednim pramenom svoje smeđe srednje duge kose. Sjedela je na onom starom kauču skupljenih nogu savijenih ispod ruba kauča. Djelovala je jadno i uplašeno. Šutala je par sekundi, a potom me pogledala nekim čudnim pogledom. I dalje je djelovala na rubu plača. "Bambi moram se presvući doista moram. Ovo nisam ja. Poslije ti sve objasnim." Ustala je bez riječi otvorila onu putnu torbu i izvadila jeftine traperice sa "buvljaka" i jeftinu majicu. Bez oklijevanja je uhvatila onu haljinu na sebi za donji rub i svukla je preko glave. Ostala je u donjem rublju. Zamjetih da doista nosi neki krem steznik, vjerojatno iz doba mladosti njene mame. Duge pamučne čarape su se držale na žabicama. Grudnjak je isto bio uzor morala pedesetih godina. Jednim potezom je svukla i steznik i čarape. Polako je dohvatila traperice i navukla ih, potom je navukla majicu i cipele. Haljinu i steznik je brzim pokretom ubacila u torbu. Sjela je na kauč. Oči su joj se polako punile suzama. "Sada sam to ja i ako umrem umirem kao ja." Nisam znao što reći. "Goga gdje je problem? Zašto se toliko plašiš? Objasni mi da ti mogu pomoći. Zašto pominješ smrt?" Pogledala me. Sada su joj već suze tekle niz lice. "Zato što moj tata nije normalan i zato što ako nas uhvati sigurno će me ubiti. Išao je na svadbu i ponio pištolj da tamo puca do mile volje." Bio sam ošamućen. Sve mi manje bilo jasno ali Gogin pogled je kroz suze djelovao prisebno znala je što govori. "Zašto bi te ubio. Kao odrasla osoba si pobjegla od kuće. Tko ti to brani. Smiri se." Unatoč tihom glasu djelovao sam oštro. Sada su joj suze već tekle niz lice u potocima. "Bambi zato što je ljubomoran." E već mi bilo pomalo dosta, više od toga što sam se i sam polako gubio. "Ok ideš kod Dejana, a svi očevi su ljubomorni na ćerke, pizdit će i proći će ga. Predpostavljam da ti je Dejan poslao lovu za kartu do Njemačke, što te ima ubijati radi toga?" Lice joj je bilo izobličeno suze su se sljevale u dvije rijeke, mene je hvatala panika. Kada je progovorila uvjerio sam se da ljudi mogu šapatom vrištati. "On nije ljubomoran na mene kao na ćerku. Bambi on me siluje od devete godine i lud je od ljubomore na svakoga u mom životu." Pred kraj je šapat vrisak skoro nestajao, kao zadnji izdah čovjeka na samrti. Sklupčala se i tresla u jecajima na kauču. Ruke su mi se počele tresti, a u nogama sam osjetio slabost. Goga je jecala bezglasno na kauču sklupčana u poziciji fetusa. Otišao sam do boce sa vodom na stolu i popio gutljaj. Malo me vratilo pod kontrolu. Goga je čudno i bezglasno jecala na kauču. Uputih se do ormara i tiho otvorih vrata. Bocu sa rakijom sam našao odmah. Popio sam dobar gutljaj potom još jedan. Potom zapalio cigaretu. Goga je još ležala na kauču i tresla se u bezglasnim jecajima. Uzeo sam pepeljaru i položio je na kauč. Uvukao sam duboko dim iz cigarete i sjeo do Goge. Skoro nesvjesno sam položio slobodnu ruku na njena leđa i počeo je blago trljati. I sam sam se još tresao. Nakon par minuta se počela smirivati. Ja sam zapalio drugu cigaretu i ponovio ritual sa rakijom potom sam sjeo do Goge i položio joj ruku na leđa. Još se pomalo tresla ali u sve manjim grčevima. Prošlo je još par minuta dok grčevi nisu prestali. Potom se disanje smirilo. Ugasio sam cigaretu i blago je podigao i zagrlio. Više nisam bio izgubljen. Srce mi je još radilo ubrzano ali sam postajao hladan, polako, prvi put otkrivajući tu svoju karakteristiku. Kasnije su znali reći "Dobro je dok se Đoni ljuti ali loše je kada se kiselo smiješi". Smirila se. Pustih je. Sjela je normalno na kauč. Prebacih ruku preko njenog ramena. "Možemo sve prijaviti miliciji ako hoćeš ili možemo ostati tihi i samo organizirati da odeš. Kako želiš ali ipak i u ovoj državi postoji zakon koji brani tako nešto." Kada je progovorila glas joj je bio prazan, poput odjeka u potpuno praznoj sali za sastanke. "Bambi ti si uvijek bio idealist. Čvrst si u onome što naumiš. Šutiš i slušaš druge pa im je drago da pričaju sa tobom ali sve idealiziraš." Nakašljala se suho. Ustao sam i otišao do one boce sa vodom. Pored boce je bila prljava čaša. Kome bitno. Napunio sam čašu vodom i stavio je Gogi u ruku. Polako je otpila. Ruke su joj se još po malo tresle. Pogledala me. "Bambi bratić moga tate je jedan od šefova milicijske u Zemunu. Moj tata stalno priča kako sam napola luda i da me treba staviti pod skrbništvo. Bratić mu vjeruje i sažaljeva ga. Ako nešto prijavimo bit će moja riječ protiv njegove, a kraj je jasan ostajem doma pod skrbništvom, znači njegova robinja za cijeli život." Poludio sam. Onaj osjećaj pravde je proradio u meni. "Odluke o skrbništvu donose liječnici, a ne milkani. Na kraju nemoguće da i tvoja mama ništa nije zamjetila? Ako je reći će to!" Ruke su joj se ponovno počele tresti. Nisam to želio. Prišao sam ormaru izvukao jednu malu čašu sa gornje police i dohvati onu rakiju. Natočio sam i potom pružio čašu Gogi. Uzela je sa dvije ruke i prolila pola, ostalo je uspjela popiti. Počekao sam. Gogine ruke su se smirile. Ponudih joj cigaretu. Uzela je. Zapalih joj i zatvorih upaljač. "Pućkala" je ne uvlačeći u pluća. Vjerojatno joj je to bila prva cigareta. Ipak je pomoglo. Imala je nešto među prstima i radila je nešto sa tim. Pomislih da bi i komad špaga dao isti efekt. Polako je podigla pogled prema meni. "Bambi ti si idealist, a tvoja ekipa poštenjačine. Specifični ste samo zato što se držite skupa i imate neki svoj film i svoja pravila." Živčano je ugasila cigaretu u pepeljari. "Kada je moja mama prvi put skužila odnosno kada sam joj se požalila napravila je frku. Htjela je otići sa mnom kod bratića u Šid. Tata je pretukao, potom joj stavio cijev pištolja u usta i prisilio je da gleda dok me siluje. Rekao je da će me ubiti prije nego dopusti da odemo. Moja mama je slab karakter, ne zna naći izlaz iz teških situacija, inače nikada ne bi bila sa takvim luđakom. Nakon toga šuti i kljuka se apaurinima, moli se, valjda se nada da će nam bog pomoći i ja ću ostati živa." Pružila mi je čašicu. Otišao sam do ormara i natočio joj potom sam povukao gutljaj. Polako joj pružih čašicu. Otpila je i ponovno mi zabola pogled u oči. "Cijela sredina nakon godina priče zna da sam ja Ćaknuta Goga, kurva koja je otrčala za prvim kurcem na koji je nalijetela. Tata godinama priča svima da nisam normalna, više ni sama ne znam da li jesam. Jučer me šef na poslu uhvatio za dupe. Kada sam reagirala samo me pitao da li sam ponovno vidjela vukodlake." Ispila je onu čašicu "na eks" potom produljila. "Tatina školska prijateljica je šef bolnice na Bežanijskoj Kosi. Tata već ima potvrdu da sam djelomično neuračunljiva. Vjerojatno je toj debeloj kravi godinama plakao na ramenu "kako nema sreće ali će se do kraja života brinuti za svoju jadnu kćerku koja ne razaznaje stvarnost". Što misliš kako bi sve završilo? Moram preći granicu prije nego njemu uopće bude jasno da sam se zaputila preko granice. Bosa je isto zaključila." Ovaj put je sama posegnula za cigaretama na kauču. Pokušala je uvući dim i nakašljala se. "Otišao je na svadbu i vraća se pijan. Tada je vrijeme za "seansu". Skužiće da me nema. Vjerojatno će misliti da sam zapalila za Šid kod maminih. Dok sazna da nisam, moram prijeći granicu, pasoš imam." Sjetih se onih razgovora o slikama za pasoš. Sve je polako dolazilo na svoje mjesto. Pružila je čašicu prema meni. Pogledah je upitno. Klimnula je glavom. Natočih joj još jednu. Otpila je samo malo. "Ako skuži da idem preko granice zvaće bratića i reći da mu je luda kćerka pobjegla "budući da je ponovno neki kreten samo pogledao i ispričao priču". Priložit će i onu potvrdu. Nadalje zna se. Javiće svim graničnim prijelazima da vrate "neuračunljivu osobu pod skrbništvo", a ja bih se tada ubila. Bambi on je lud. On misli da smo mama i ja njegove robinje. Ako me uhvati ubiće me iz bijesa, a ubiće i tebe i svakoga tko mi pomaže. Zato ako ne želiš reci i ja ću otići." Bio sam već hladan. U meni je bio neki čudni led koji sam prvi put upoznao. Nije mi bilo bitno. Dok je Goga pričala više puta sam se zapitao "da li je to istina". Sada mi nije bilo bitno koliko je istine u tome. Osjećao sam se isto kao kada su Šoba i Guta vezali mačku i htjeli je baciti sa krova višekatnice. Samo da vide "koliko života ima". Mačka nije bila ništa kriva, gledala je svoja mačja posla. Ako je i deset posto od ispričanog bila istina ni Goga nije bila ništa kriva. "Ja ostajem sa tobom. Pozvaćemo taksi ujutro i idem sa tobom do vlaka." Trznula se. "Ne zovi taksi, moj tata zna pola taksista. Izdaje im certifikate za taksimetre. Znaš da ih moraju imati, a Insa to radi. Ako ih počne zvati kada nestanem, a neki od njih kaže da sam na kolodvoru može nešto posumnjati kao da "idem Dejanu" i tražiti da se javi na granice. Treba nešto drugo, da misli da sam još tu negdje u susjedstvu ili da sam uzela autobus za Šid." Nisam razmišljao. Odgovor je bio već jasan. "Nije frka. Odvešću te motorom do glavnog kolodvora. Torba ti stane na prtljažnik, dovoljno je mala." Nešto mi je bilo čudno u onom naglašenom "idem Dejanu". "Goga reci mi nešto iskreno kao sve do sada." Pogledala me. "Što, samo reci." "Da li ideš kod Dejana. Mislim da li ti je on poslao neku lovu za put. Rekla si da ti tata uzima sve od plaće, sada mi je jasno zašto ali nekako si čudno naglasila ono "idem Dejanu". Gledala me u oči, djelovala je jadno ali više začuđeno. "Bambi Bosa mi je dala novac prije dva tjedna. Idem kod Bose. Ona će mi pomoći." Vjerojatno je moj izraz lica bio nešto što bi se nosilo za "Noć vještica" inače ne bi tako brzo reagirala. "Bambi ti i Bosa, bili ste skupa, mislim u krevetu?" Klimnuh glavom. "Nije ti rekla ništa?" Odmahnuh glavom. Šutala je par minuta. Ja sam nasuo još jednu za sebe i jednu za nju. Zapalio sam cigaretu i povukao dubok dim. "Bambi slušaj. Bosa je slučajno pričala sa mnom dva puta. Nekako je brzo raspoznala to o meni, mislim što mi se događa. Poslije smo pričale o tome i o sredini u kojoj živim. Ona sve zna prošla je u ovoj sredini slično na drugi način. Ona je super. Dejan on je govno." Sada je već bilo "malo više od pretjeranog". Glas mi je bio hladan, toliko hladan da sam to i sam osjetio. "Koji ku..$..c si onda pobjegla sa Dejanom kod njega u potkrovlje? Koje protu usluge od tebe Bosa traži, priča se da je lezba. Da li sam ja samo "sredstvo prve pomoći"." Poskočila je. Počela je brzo ovaj put tvrdim šaptom. "Pobjegla sam sa Dejanom da se riješim tate. Pričao mi je bajke, kako je faca i ne plaši se nikoga. Kako budemo zajedno putovali njegovim motorom "odavde do vječnosti". U stvari bilo mu je bitno samo da mu pušim tih petnaest slobodnih minuta, navečer nakon škole, u parku. Kada sam prešla kod njega prvi put me je jebao. Kada je skužio da nisam nevina poludio je od ljubomore. Tukao me i pitao me "tko je bio prvi". Nisam mu mogla reći istinu. Nešto sam izmislila oko ginekoloških problema. Nije pomagalo. Poslije je ispao obična pizda. Kada je tata podivljao nije imao hrabrosti niti da se odupre njegovim napadima bijesa. Kada je milicija došla rekao je "da nije znao da sam maloljetna ali da djelujem luda". Disala je ubrzano. Ponovno je posegnula za cigaretom zapalila je i povukla dubok dim. Kašljala je dvadesetak sekundi. Kada je produljila bilo je to hladnim glasom. "Bosa mi je dala novac za sve što treba oko pasoša "po skraćenom postupku". Dala mi je i više "da se nađe". Rekla je da bude došla po mene kada javim. Međutim postalo je znatno gore u kući. Tata je sve luđi. Sada bi i mene i mamu zajedno. Ne mogu više čekati niti minute. Ostalo mi je dovoljno za kartu do Hamburga. Idem sutra, ne mogu čekati da Bosa dođe. Javit ću joj se kada stignem u Njemačku." Ugasila je cigaretu nekim odsiječnim pokretom. Kada je produljila gledala je u daljinu. "Bambi Bosa nije tražila ništa od mene, samo mi je željela pomoći. Da li je lezbijka ne znam i nije mi bitno. Kako mi je nabacila ti bi to trebao bolje znati." Začuli smo korake niz stube. Goga se trznula. "Bambi molim te reci im što hoćeš samo im nemoj reći što sam ti ispričala. Neka to ostane između nas troje." Znao sam da pod trećom osobom misli na Bosu. Začulo se lagano kucanje, potom su Škot i Strela upali na vrata. Škot je nosio tanjur sa sendvičima u jednoj ruci, a bokal domaćeg soka u drugoj. Strela mu je otvorio vrata. "Hei ekipa." Strela je bio kratak. Škot je pustio tanjur na kauč između nas. "Navali narode, sigurno ste ogladnjeli čekajući me, a mama spremila za mene i Strelu "da ne legnemo gladni". Morao sam im nešto reći i pojasniti sve ali mi je trebalo vremena da smislim dobro obrazloženje, a da ne kažem ništa od onoga što mi Goga rekla. "Škot sada mogu u WC i pustiti vodu?" Gledao me sa osmjehom. "Naravno, možeš i prditi do mile volje, mislit će da smo to nas dvojica. Strela ionako jede što stigne." Nasmijali su se, a ja sam se zaputio uza stube do onog WC- a na ulazu u podrum. Prije izlaska iz sobe sam dobacio. "Čim se vratim sve vam objasnim Goga je iscrpena pa ne pitajte previše." Dobio sam pet minuta da nešto smislim. Vratio sam se sa prihvatljivom pričom. Još dosta rano u životu mi je postalo jasno "ne laži ako nisi prisiljen krajnjom nuždom, ako moraš, reci što više istine a slaži samo onoliko koliko treba". Možda sam samo bio previše "komformist" da bih lagao, nakon laži je trebalo pamtiti što si slagao, ako te netko ponovno pita o toj temi, meni se to nikada nije dalo. Možda je djed koji mi je čitao Bibliju utjerao u mene nešto od božje riječi. Uglavnom važio sam kao netko tko priča uvijek istinu. Ove noći sam to zlorabio pred najboljim prijateljima. Laž je bila polu laž, polu istina ali takve obično prođu. U što kraćem obliku objasnio sam Škotu i Streli da Goga mora za Njemačku budući da je Gogin tata luđak na svoju ruku. Ovo je držalo vodu, svi su znali za Goginu situaciju, kuća – posao – kuća. Dodao sam da smatra da je Goga neuračunljiva i da je želi imati pod skrbništvom odnosno upravljati njenim životom. Nadalje sam im pojasnio da dolazi vjerojatno malo pijan sa neke svadbe i da je vrlo spreman "pucati nekome u glavu ako mu se pokvari plan", a plan je bio neka glupost sa dogovorenim brakom za Gogu ali ne mogu reći sve. Žao mi je ali ih ne želim lagati. Ja moram odraditi posao sa Goginim odlaskom do kraja. Goga je šutala i gledala u svoje cipele dok sam ja tiho pričao, na kraju je samo dodala "da možda i onaj vječno pijani rođak Vasa" bude sa tatom kada je krenu tražiti. Navodno je on "čovjek od povjerenja". Gledali su me malo sumnjičavo. Škot je po običaju hladnokrvno donio odluku. "Đoni ne vjerujem baš puno u ovakvu priču ali ako si ti u njoj ja sam također sa tobom. Nije bitno što je istina, reci što možeš reći. Ti trebaš Gogi, a mi trebamo tebi." Strela je žvakao sendvič i klimnuo glavom polu zatvorenih očiju, uživajući u okusu hrane. Ponovno sam ih pogledao udahnuo i rekao: "Ne želim vas lagati ali situacija je vrlo opasna. Goga mora sutra ujutro biti na vlaku za Njemačku. Gogin tata dolazi sa svadbe pred jutro, što ja znam četiri ili pet sati. Ako skuži da Goga ide "preko grane" blokirat će je preko bratića u miliciji kao neuračunljivu, dok se utvrdi da je normalna može je lako ubiti. Ako, uz sve skuži nekim čudom da idemo na kolodvor i pomažemo joj, toliko je lud da nas onako pijan može pobiti. Vjerojatno i on i onaj rođak imaju pištolje, zna se koji običaji su na nekim svadbama. Drugim riječima tko uđe u ovo reskira dosta." Škot me je pogledao ponovno u oči. "Đoni ja sam u igri radi tebe, jasno mi je da je opasna igra i da pomalo lažeš ali ti si u tome i ja sam u tome." Strela je progutao zalogaj. "Ne seri Đoni. Reci skraćeno "trebam pomoć za nešto zajebano". Mi smo tu." Ponovio sam priču u konstrukciji: Luđak plus pištolj plus svadba plus alkohol plus metak za onoga tko pomogne Gogi. Nisu posebno reagirali. Škot je samo slegao ramenima. "Ako vas dvoje kažete da je lud i da puca, vjerujem ali boli me ku..$..c. Tebi treba pomoć i ja sam tu." Strela je bio kraći. "Oprosti Goga, nikada mi se nije sviđao tvoj stari i ako ga razbijem radi Đonija bude mi gušt." Goga se nasmiješila tužno ali iskreno. To je bilo to. Bili smo u igri. Polako sam ustao i protegao se. "Idem doma po motor i da kažem mojima da sam u diskoteci." Strela je obrisao ruke o traperice. "Idem i ja po svoga bendžolu i da uzmem kokija." Škot je mahnuo. "Samo tiho u povratku, da ne bi izmišljali ponovno laži. Ja ću biti spreman." Okrenuo se prema Gogi. "Kada polazi vlak? Imaš li kartu?" Goga je djelovala zatečeno. "Pet i trideset ujutro. Nisam kupila kartu ali imam lovu. Nisam mogla po kartu." Zvučala je kao da se pravda. Škot je slegao ramenima. "Kartu riješimo prije polaska, zato moramo biti najkasnije u pet na kolodvoru." Klimnuo sam glavom potom mahnuo rukom i zaputio se uz stube. Strela je išao iza mene. Začuo sam Škotov glas iza leđa. "Motore dogurajte da moji nešto ne posumnjaju." Strela je poslao jedno tiho "ok" i bili smo na ulici. Nismo se pozdravljali. Strela me pljesnuo po ramenu i krenuli smo svatko u svom pravcu. Stigao sam doma brzo i pogledao na sat u hodniku. Bilo je oko deset. Sve super još je sve logično. Mojima sam objasnio u dvije riječi da idemo u disko "Kod lude Mađarice" u Inđiji i vraćamo se ujutro. Nisu reagirali. Mama je samo dobacila: "Luđi ste vi što trošite vrijeme kod te kurve umjesto da učite nešto korisno." Marika nije bila kurva, odnosno nije se seksala za novac ali je bila opako zgodna i dobro unovčila svoju bivšu kavanu kada je pretvorila u diskoteku. Meni je ono "kurva" u svezi Marike djelovalo seksi ali mi nije bilo do razmatranja svih aspekata te teme. Imao sam druga posla. Otvorio sam ladicu radnog stola i izvukao kuvertu sa ušteđevinom u markama. U uvjetima inflacije mogao si štedjeti samo na način da dinare čim prije konvertiraš u neku čvrstu devizu. Izvukoh dvije novčanice po 100 DEM i strpah ih u džep. Navukao sam svoju jaknu od trapera i našao jednu staru košulju od trapera te je spremio u ruksak. Otišao sam u garažu i izvukao svoj MZ. Vratio sam se do svoje kutije za alat. Na dnu kutije je ležala olovna cijev koju sam još prošle godine izrezao i prilagodio da "dobro leži u ruci". Od tada je nisam uzimao. Izvukao sam je i polako zatakao na leđa ispod jakne. Može mi jako trebati. Navukao sam kacigu i startao motor. Zadnjih dvijesto metara sam motor gurao. Ušao sam u "naš podrumski privatni prostor". Škot je sjedio na stolici do stola. Receiver je bio uključen i sa neke od radio postaja je dopirao tihi džez. Goga je ležala sklupčana na kauču. Podigla je malo glavu i nasmješila se kada sam ušao. Pored Škota na stolu je bila njegova kaciga, a pored kacige olovna cijev sa improviziranom drškom. I on je došao na istu ideju kao i ja. Čitao je neku knjigu i samo me pogledao i namignuo mi. Otišao sam do ormara i natočio si jednu "Gromovaču". Želio sam razbiti tišinu. "Vani djeluje kao da će kiša." Škot nije skidao pogled sa knjige. "Neće biti prva vožnja po kiši". Goga se pridigla i sjela. "Đoni sjedi do mene molim te." Prišao sam i sjeo na drugi kraj kauča. Malo se približila i stavila mi ruku na rame. Sjedili smo tako bez riječi. Gogi je izgleda samo trebao netko u blizini. Nije ni bilo čudo nakon sve te samoće u kojoj je prolazila pakao. Zapalio sam cigaretu. Pogledao sam na sat bilo je 23 sata. Nismo pričali. Strela je ušao tiho i zatvorio vrata. "Stavio sam motor iza tvog, jaki su oblaci možda malo opiči." Vani se iznenada čula udaljena grmljavina. Strela je nasuo gromovaču u čašu i sjeo na onaj drugi kauč. Nije gledao ni u koga. Kacigu i jaknu od umjetne kože je položio pored sebe. Iznenada je ustao i izvadio metalni bokser iz džepa traperica. Prebacio ga je u džep jakne. Vjerojatno ga je žuljao u hlačama. Uz grmljavinu se čuo samo onaj jazz na radiju. Nakon pola sata je počeo pljusak. Strela se opružio na kauču. Ja sam se naslonio i drijemao, Goga je naslonila glavu na moje rame i drijemala. Škot je polako čitao knjigu. Pogledao sam korice kada je odložio da si naspe piće. Richard Bach "Iluzije". Druga knjiga nakon "Galeb Jonathan Livingston" koju sam otkrio. Pročitao sam je u jednom dahu i prije dva dana proslijedio Škotu. Poželjeh da sam i ja pilot koji starim dvokrilcem luta po američkom srednjem zapadu i "prodaje vožnje od 15 minuta". Ništa nismo pričali. Nakon jazz bloka na radiju su prešli na soul gdje su ubacili i blok Roberte Fleck. Pljusak je prestao i padala je sitna kiša koliko smo čuli kroz prozor. Pred svitanje Strela je ustao i otišao do WC-a. Kada se vratio izvjestio nas je. "Spustila se magla, dosta gusta." Škot se nije dao smesti. Spustio je knjigu i zijevnuo. "Samo moramo krenuti ranije." Pogledao sam na sat bilo je tri ujutro. "Za pola sata." Strela je klimnuo glavom. To je bilo to. Pola sata kasnije kada sam ustao nitko nije pitao ništa. Uzeo sam kacigu i onu olovnu cijev zadjenuo u hlače iza leđa potom sam navukao jaknu. Škot i strijela su slijedili moj primjer. Goga je uzela torbu. Izvadio sam onu staru košulju od trapera iz ruksaka i dobacio je Gogi. "Navuci vani će biti hladno na motoru." Dok je oblačila košulju i savijala rukave zamjetih da joj se ruke tresu. Izašli smo u maglu. Pričvrstili smo Goginu torbu na prtljažnik Strelinog motora. Škot je izgurao svoj elektronik kroz vrata pazeći da bude jako tih. Odgurali smo motore oko dvijesto metara i zajahali. Goga je sijela iza mene i uhvatila me oko struka. Magla je bila gusta. Startali smo i polako krenuli. Dok smo kretali prepoznali smo Fiat 125 Goginog tate kako skreće u ulicu i prolazi pored nas. Goga je zabila glavu u moja leđa. Strela je vodio. Raspalio je po plinu koliko je mogao sa minimalnom vidljivošću. Sa jedne strane mi je bilo jasno da u magli i izmaglici alkohola Gogin tata uopće nije mogao raspoznati Gogu na motoru. Sa druge nikada se ne zna. Taj je zabadao nos gdje god je stigao kada su u pitanju bili mladi. Odahnuo sam kada kroz maglu nisam ugledao svijetla nijednog auta u retrovizoru. Bio sam svjestan da će Gogin nestanak ubrzo biti otkriven. Neka potraga se mogla očekivati, sve ovisi koliko bi mu mogao pasti na pamet Dejan. Napredovali smo sporo kroz maglu. Motore smo parkirali blizu ulaza na kolodvor. Bilo je oko pet sati. Dogovor je bio kratak. Jedan mora ostati na ulazu. Ako bi se kojim slučajem pojavio Gogin tata mora ga zadržati po svaku cijenu. Jedan ide kupiti kartu, a jedan odmah prati Gogu prema vlaku. Na prodaji karata će vidjeti samo dečka koji kupuje kartu, eventualni Gogin opis se ne može povezati sa bilo kojom prodanom kartom do Njemačke. Strela nam je mahnuo rukom. "Ja ostajem na ulazu, ako luđak dođe pravim se pijan i započeću tuču." Mahnuo je glavom prema dvojici milicajaca koji su polako šetali kolodvorom. "Kada ovi dođu i razdvoje nas počeće ono, dajte osobne iskaznice, "tko je drugovi prvi počeo tuču" i tako dalje. To je dosta zadržavanja da vlak krene i sve bude OK." Odmahnuo sam glavom. "Strela to je odličan plan ali i opasan, ako je u "ludom stanju" pucat će čim počneš sa frkom. Idi ja ostajem i napraviću kako si rekao ako kreten dođe." Strela me odgurnuo rukom prema Gogi. "Mislim da je ti trebaš ispratiti. Ne brini se udaram prvi i neću mu dati prigodu da izvlači bilo što." Malo je izvukao bokser iz džepa potom ga vratio. Škot klimnu glavom. Goga je izvadila novac i pružila ga Škotu. Plako smo krenuli, Strela malo bočno od ulaza, Škot prema "Međunarodnom šalteru", Goga i ja prema "redu vožnje" da utvrdimo peron sa kojeg kreće vlak za Minhen tu presijeda dalje za Hamburg. Nosio sam Goginu torbu u ruci. Stajao sam pored vrata vagona "druge klase". Goga je stajala na vratima stiščući kartu u rukama, Škot se džentlmenski malo udaljio i zapalio cigaretu pomno pazeći na okolicu, u stilu "nikada se ne zna od kuda vrag iskoči". Znao sam da ne bi oklijevao da uporabi onu olovnu cijev. Škot je bio dosljedan. Pogledao sam Gogu. "Koliko love ti je ostalo?" "Oko četrdeset maraka, dovoljno." Izvadih one dvije novčanice iz džepa odvojih jednu stoticu maraka i pružih joj. "Uzmi da ti se nađe, može ustrebati." Malo je gledala potom spustila torbu i spustila se na zadnju papučicu vagona. Uzela je novac i zajedno sa kartom ga spremila u džep moje stare traper košulje koju je nosila. Malo se nagnula i zagrlila me. Držala me čvrsto potom mi je dala pusu u usta i vratila se na ulaz vagona. Šutali smo još par minuta i izmicali se putnicima koji su ulazili. Vlak je polako krenuo Goga je mahnula. "Pisat ću ti, javi Bosi ako stigneš da dolazim." Malo sam hodao pored vagona dok je to izgovarala potom sam stao i mahnuo joj. Čekao sam da vlak napusti peron, potom sam mahnuo Škotu i zaputismo se prema izlazu. Tada sam zadnji put vidio Gogu. Vani se magla polako razilazila, zajahali smo motore. Strela je obrisao kacigu od vlage i zaključio. "Razilazi se, mislim da ćemo sada lako naći put doma." Klimnuo sam glavom. "Mislim da smo ga već pronašli." Strela me gledao začuđeno, a Škot sa razumijevanjem. Nismo dalje komentirali startali smo i polako krenuli. Sunce se pomalo probijalo kroz oblake i rijetke slojeve magle. Planirao sam stati negdje na kavu, a potom do pošte i javiti Bosi za Gogu. Pravac Hamburg Planirao sam stati negdje na kavu, a potom do pošte i javiti Bosi za Gogu. Pravac Hamburg Škot nas je probudio oko pet sati. Buđenje mi je bilo stresno. Dugo sam se vraćao u stvarnost. Prošlu noć je puno toga došlo iz prošlosti. Škot je napravio cedevitu u tri čaše i čekao sjedeći na krevetu dok smo mi polako ustajali i umivali se. Bio je već obučen i stvari su mu bile spakirane. Polako smo se spakirali, kavu pijemo na prvoj benzinskoj. Strela je pokucao na vrata susjedne sobe. Otvorila je Olga u pidžami sa oslikanim zečevima. Dobro su joj pristajali zekani, naročito oko grudi. Škot joj je vratio ključ i pozdravio se. Dobacila je samo: "Sretno dečki." Na izlazu smo pozdravili dežurnog na porti. Pogledao nas kako vučemo stvari mahnuo i dobacio: "Sretno do Hamburga." Nema sumnje sinoć su glasine brzo putovale. Pola sata kasnije smo parkirali na benzinskoj na izlazu iz Zagreba. Pored benzinske je bio kafić. Nakon tankanja smo se prebacili u kafić na "prvu kavu". Ušao sam prvi. Za šankom su stajala dva milkana pili kavu i pričali sa sisatom konobaricom. Očigledno se "noćna patrola" odmarala. Škot je uljudno dobacio "tri kave i tri lisnata trokuta". Konobarica nas je pogledala mrzovoljno. Polako je posegnula štipaljkom za za kolače ispod staklenog zvona i na tri tanjurića nabacila tri lisnata tijesta sa sirom. Kave je uradila iz automata. Ipak je bila ok na pladanj je dodala i tri čaše vode bez da smo je pitali za to. Položila je sve na gomilu na stolu ne pazeći da nam podijeli. Oni milkani su nas promatrali. Valjda nismo nešto pokvarili pomislih. Samo nam je potreban šou sa nezadovoljnom milicijom. Nisu reagirali kada se konobarica vratila za šank, tihi razgovor je potekao dalje. Uskoro su se milkani uz smijeh pozdravili od para velikih sisa i krenuli prema izlazu. Onaj jedan je odmjerio naše kacige na stolici potom kroz staklo kafića motore parkirane vani. Vjerojatno ga je malo zbunila naša meka ekavica u šest ujutro. Okrenuo se prema nama. "Dečki, su ono vaši motori?" "Da." Odgovorio sam preko zalogaja. Motori su bili parkirani unazad registracija se lijepo vidjela. Milkan je bio radoznao. "Putujete nekamo?" "Hamburg. " Odgovorio je Škot spuštajuci šalicu od kave. Milkan je djelovao malo čudno. "Sa ovim od Zemuna do Hamburga? Svaka čast. Za to treba imati muda." Nasmiješio nam se odmahnuo glavom i mahnuo pri izlasku. "Sretno, trebat će vam dosta sreće." Pogledali smo se između sebe. Tišina je trajala par sekundi, prekinuo je Škot. "Ništa novo svima je poznato da smo luđaci." Nasmijali smo se od srca. Ona konobarica nas je promatrala radoznalo i rezala kifle i parizer u "radničke jutarnje sendviče", na svaku kiflu bi nabacila sloj margarina. Dok je to radila pazila je da sise "ne umoči" u sendviče. Polako smo ustali. Škot je prišao šanku i pitao za platiti onim svoji uljudnim glasom. Konobarica je izbacila cifru bez razmišljanja. Škot je stavio traženi iznos na šank preturajući po džepovima, da isprazni sitno. Okrenuli smo se ka vratima. "Čekajte malo." Pogledali smo je. Otvorila je tri već gotove kifle- sendviča i pojačala sadržaj sa parizerom. Na gornju stranu peciva je namazala malo senfa. Umotala je to u "masni papir" i pružila preko šanka. "Trebat će vam snage na tako dugom putu." Škot je pogledao onim svojim pogled osmijehom. "Hvala stvarno ste srce." Pocrvenila je malo i zabola glavu u posao sa sendvičima i dalje pazeći na sise. "Sretno dečki." Okrenuli smo se i polako izašli. Dok smo stavljali kacige Strela je zaključio. "Izgleda da se iza tih velikih sisa krije i veliko srce." Klimnuo sam glavom i startao. Bio je ugodan osjećaj da te netko iznenadi sa malo ljudske topline inače nisam podnosio miks margarin parizer. Četrnaest sati kasnije i petsto kilometara dalje smo se posvađali. Hotel Kalifornija Nakon Salzburga smo dobro "prašili" auto cestom. Iznenada nam se učinilo oko pet sati poslije podne da nam "super ide". Odlučili smo malo skrenuti prema Penzberg-u i po Škotovom nagovoru pogledati neki dvorac i mala jezera, a ovo se uklapalo u alternativni pravac. Nije bilo bitno ako malo kasnije dođemo u okolicu Minhena. Plan je ionako bio pred jutro doći na jezero kod Starnberga u okolici Minhena. Do tada biti na cesti i nekoj benzinskoj. Kako je Marko savjetovao mogli smo tada leći na neku od super uređenih plaža u hladu. Umotati se u vreće i odspavati do podne. Policija te nije dirala na plaži negdje od šest ujutro. Sve je ispalo usrano. Sat kasnije smo se izgubili u nekim šumama i na planinskom putu. Vozili smo skoro sat i nije bilo znaka neke civilizacije. Polako se već spuštala noć. Benzin nam je bio skoro na kraju. Škot je gledao kartu i pokušavao se sjetiti zadnjeg putokaza koji smo prošli. Markova karta Njemačke je bila vrlo detaljna. Nije bilo ni čudo, kada je "pukao na poslu" jedno vrijeme je putovao stopom po Evropi. Tu je naučio posao "besplatnog smještaja" i najjeftinije prehrane. Strela je živčano udarao prstima po svojoj kacigi koju je držao u ruci. Par minuta prije je upravo objasnio što misli o ideji "da se skrene u razgledanje", a koju smo Škot i ja inicirali. Mišljene je iskazalo par ozbiljnih seksualnih zahvata nad "kretenima" i uz to primjenu sadističkih seksualnih igrački. Bio je siguran da nas obećani zahvati neće niti malo usrećiti. Meni nije bilo niti malo pravo potenciranje krivice pa sam se istresao na Strelu. Strela mi je vratio istom mjerom i pri tome uključio i Škota u popis osoba koje treba "nabiti na ku..$..c i bičevati dok ne svrše". Škot je smirio situaciju. Meni je objasnio "da sam šizofrenični kreten", a Streli da je "peder kad ima toliku želju da nas nabije" ali je zaključio "da mu je prijatelj pa će mu i popušiti samo da se smiri". Umor je bio jedini razlog zašto svađa nije produljila. Nakon kratke pauze smo pokušavali locirati gdje smo. Navigacija je u to doba bila samo znanstvena fantastika. Škot je na kraju slegao ramenima. "Nemamo što izgubiti idemo ravno ovom cesto pa gdje stignemo." Dnevna svijetlost je skoro nestala. Zajahali smo i krenuli. Prije nego je navukao kacigu Strela mi je uputio jedan smrknuti pogled. Petnaest minuta kasnije je svijetlo Škotovog motora osvijetlilo natpis "Motel Zeppelin 500 m". Ispod natpisa je bila slika čuvenog zračnog broda. Natpis je bio izblijedio i oštećen. Ipak je bio točan. Pet minuta i koji zavoj kasnije smo ugledali mali minimalno osvijetljeni parking i vrlo skromno skoro fluorescentno svijetlo neonske reklame "Motel Zepp" preostala slova nisu davala svijetlost. Na parkingu je bilo samo dva tamnija auta. Jedna VW buba 1200 kojoj po mraku i slabom svijetlu nije bilo moguće točno odrediti boju, nešto između tamno ljubičaste i tamno crvene. Uz bubu je bio parkiran mat crni mercedes. Svijetlost koja je dopirala kroz staklena vrata je bila vrlo slaba. Parkirali smo skoro na samom ulazu. Pogledah na sat. Bilo je već deset sati navečer. Polako se zaputismo u motel. Unutrašnjost je bila minimalno osvijetljena. Iza pulta je sjedio mladi lik plave kose i uskog lica. Plava kosa je bila očigledno namazana nekim uljem, čudno se presijavala u onoj oskudnoj svjetlosti. Ten mu je vapio za nekim suncem, a usne su imale čudnu boju. Nije se uopće uzbuđivao radi našeg ulaska. Promatrao nas je nekim čudnim pogledom dok smo sva trojica prilazili pultu. Budući da sam jedini u grupi govorio Njemački nastup prema noćnom službeniku motela je bio moj. Pročistio sam grlo i upitao za slobodnu sobu i cijenu. Nije ništa pitao, pogledao nas je svu trojicu i rekao mekanim ugodnim glasom. "Apartman za tri osobe ... pedeset maraka." Promatrao nas je i dalje. Nešto mi nije baš pasalo u tom pogledu. Okrenuh se prema dečkima. "Cijena mi se čini više nego ok za Njemačku, toliko dobra da je čudno." "Ne seri Đoni." Strela je bio na rubu sloma. Nije jeo ništa još od nekih kobasica na cesti u Austriji, "negdje oko podne", bio je uz to jako umoran od duge vožnje. Škot je slegao ramenima u stilu "pa što". Zamjetih da je i njemu kazaljka "na minimumu" imao je teških pola sata dok je smirivao mene i Strelu, iz nekog razloga samo ja nisam bio na rubu sloma. Klimnuh glavom recepcionaru ili što već je bio i objasnih da moramo uzeti stvari sa motora. Nasmješio se zainteresirano nas promatrajući. "Nema problema." Dok smo skidali stvari sa motora prenio sam ostalima da mi je čudno kako je odmah ponudio apartman za tri osobe, a da nije niti pitao što želimo kao da mi je čitao misli o trokrevetnoj sobi. Škot je slegao ramenima, a Strela je bio bijesan i konkretan. "Zato što je odmah vidio da smo šupci bez neke love pa nam je ponudio najjeftiniju opciju." Ponovno smo vezali motore onim tankim lancem, počela se spuštati večernja izmaglica i sve je dobilo neki mistični izgled. Zaputili smo se ka recepciji. Recepcionar mi je odmah pružio ključ i nasmiješio mi se. "Kolega će vas odmah odvesti do sobe." Pogledah ga zbunjeno uzimajući ključ. "Trebate naše pasoše možda?" Gledao me onim čudnim pogledom koji nisam mogao definirati. "Planirate otići tijekom noći?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Ne zalutali smo malo, čekamo dan i vašu pomoć da krenemo dalje." On uzvrati osmijehom. "Onda nije potrebno, a prenoćište možete računati kao besplatno, ako nemate za platiti." Lik koji je došao iz hodnika pored pulta recepcije je bio skoro pa kopija prvog samo je imao malo tamniju kosu i veći nos. Kosa mu je isto bila zalizana, a ten čudan kao i boja usana. Hodao je elastičnim laganim koracima i smiješio se zadovoljno dok nas je gledao. Pokazao je rukom uz stube i pošao ispred nas. Popeli smo se na gornji kat. Novi red stuba je vodio u sobe u potkrovlju. Još dok smo uzimali stvari sa motora zamijetio sam da zgrada ima samo jedan kat ali i nekoliko prozora u potkrovlju. Uža i malo dulja gradnja. Bila je to jedna od onih tipičnih njemačkih građevina između dva rata. Lik ispred nas je skrenuo prema kraju hodnika. Na jednoj strani su bila vrata od soba. Onih par prozora na drugom zidu je gledalo na šumu. Svijetlost u hodniku je bila slaba. Lik je otvorio jedna vrata puštajući ključ u bravi, a potom se okrenuo ka vratima na kraju hodnika i mahnuo rukom. "Kupaona i WC su zajednički iza onih vrata." Ljubazno se nasmiješio ali je u pogledu bilo nešto kao da nas odmjerava. "Pitaj ga da li se može dobiti nešto za jelo?" Strela je bio više nego gladan i nije odustajao od namjere da pojede dobru večeru. Preveo sam pitanje. Odmahnuo je glavom. "Žao mi je ne služimo hranu." Zaputio se ka stubama ne okrečući se. Kada smo upalili svjetlo i ušli u sobu dočekalo nas je iznenađenje. Soba je imala starinski bračni ležaj i jedan odvojeni. Ležaji su bili drveni od puunog drveta i očigledno ručno ponovno ofarbani. U kutu je bio umivaonik sa komadom sapuna na rubu. Stolica i stari ormar su također bili ručno obojeni. Jedino je sag na podu bio puniji i djelovao je kvalitetno. Soba je djelovala krajnje čisto. "Tvoj odgovor za čudnu cijenu i na tvoj sumnjičavi pogled kada nam je lik rekao da može i besplatno." Škot je rukom pokazao po sobi. "Zajednička kupaona i WC plus ovo prastaro pokućstvo, to se može iznajmiti samo nekome u nuždi ili teškim romantičarima koji žele osjetiti dah prošlosti." Škot je ubacio torbe u ormar ali je prije zatvaranja vrata iz torbe sa "zalihama za nuždu" izvukao dvije paštete i prepečenac. Jednu paštetu i paketić prepečenca je dobacio Streli, koji je smrknutog pogleda sjedio na onom izdvojenom krevetu promatrajući kut raja u kojem smo se našli. Čim smo ušli odabrao je onaj izdvojeni krevet sa dodatnom željom da naglasi kako je ljut na nas. Drugu paštetu je otvorio i položio pored sebe na rub bračnog ležaja. Otvorio je svoj preklopni nož i polako počeo mazati paštetu na prepečenac. Mahnuo mi je rukom. "Dođi nas dva ćemo podijeliti ovu jednu." Škot je po običaju mislio na sve. Strela je ljut i gladan, dobio je veći dio zalihe, ovo bi mu trbalo popraviti raspoloženje. Ali očigledno nije, ljutito je otvorio paštetu i prstom je namazao na prepečenac, potom ga progutao u dva zalogaja i posegnuo za drugim prepečencem iz paketa. Sjeo sam na rub kreveta i prihvatio prepečenac sa paštetom koji mi je Škot pružao. Nagon dva zalogaja pogledah Škota, on mi je uvijek bio uporište u "razumnom pristupu". "Škot meni je ovdje ipak nešto čudno. Oni likovi ..." Prekinuo me je mahanjem ruke. "Daj Đoni, svima je poznato da pišeš znanstvenu fantastiku, obuzdaj malo tu maštu i pusti me da se odmaram. Ona vaša svađa me u totalu iscrpila uz ono sunce po kojem smo cijeli dan vozili." Strela je već završio sa jelom. Skinuo je čizme i bacio ih ispod kreveta. Potom je skinuo i jaknu i gurnuo je ispod jastuka. Otišao je do lavandina i umio se. Iskoristio je jedini ručnik koji je visio tamo da se obriše. Pogledao je u mene. "Đoni pun mi ku..$..c svega večeras, ne želim čuti više ništa od vas dvojice, a pogotovu ne tvoje fantazije." Otišao je do kreveta legao okrećući se zidu i navukao pokrivač preko sebe. Pogledah Škota. Slegnuo je ramenima u stilu "rekao sam ti da šutiš". Polako i krajnje umorno je žvakao zadnji komadić prepečenca i paštete. Pogledao me upitno. "Hoćeš se ti prvi umiti? Niti meni se ne da ići pod tuš jedva gledam." Odmahnuh glavom. Škot je ljubazno slegao ramenima i otišao do umivaonika skidajući košulju. Nakon brzog pranja je uporabio isti ručnik kao i Strela. Polako je legao i dobacio. "Ne prelazi na moju stranu kreveta, ja jesam peder ali nisi moj tip. Noćka." Uzeo sam svoj ručnik iz torbe i skinuo košulju. Hladna voda me malo smirila. Nije mi se išlo do kupaone. Nije mi se puno niti gasilo svijetlo. Na sreću i Škot je već spavao. Ponovno sam otvorio torbu i uzeo jeftinu plastičnu pljosku. Svatko je spremio po jednu sa "Gromovačom" u prtljagu. Otpio sam gutljaj i zapalio cigaretu. Gledao sam po sobi tražeći pepeljaru. Bila je na stolici. Uzeo sam pepeljaru i sjeo na stolicu. Otpio sam još jedan gutljaj. Nije mi bilo jasno kako su nas oni likovi gledali. Nešto je bilo u tom pogledu što mi je izgledalo poznato ali trenutačno nedokučivo. Ugasio sam cigaretu i otpio još jedan mali gutljaj. Odlučih da pogledam niza stube u pravcu recepcije i još jedan put promotrim onog lika na recepciji, valjda me neće vidjeti. Polako sam otključao vrata gaseći svijetlo. U hodniku je bilo mračno, samo je slaba svijetlost dopirala kroz onih par prozora. Sjetih se da postoji prekidač pored ulaznih vrata u sobu. Odlučih ga ne koristiti. Nisam nikome želio najavljivati da ga idem pogledati. Polako sam krenuo niz hodnik. Parket je vraški cvilio očigledno je bio star. Polako sam prišao stubama i tiho se spustio prvih par. Stube su bile dvodijelne. Prvi red se spuštao do male platforme drugi je od platforme vodio ka recepciji. Cijela konstrukcija je bila u obliku slova L, platforma se nije mogla vidjeti sa recepcije priječio je to zid. Iza ruba zida dopirala je slaba svijetlost. Odlučih se spustiti do ruba zida i proviriti prema recepciji. Išlo je dobro betonske stube je prekrivao topli pod i ništa se nije čulo. Polako malo provirih iza zida. Lik nije bio sam, točnije oba lika su bila na recepciji, a pored njih je stajala žena u crnoj kožnoj minici, sivoj svilenoj košulji dugih rukava i čizmama preko koljena na višu petu. Onaj lik što nas je vodio do sobe je tiho govorio nešto pokazujući rukom krivinu, drugi za recepcijom se smiješio. Žena je bila bezizražajna, samo ih je promatrala, a koliko je slaba svijetlost dopuštala vidio sam da joj je lice prekriveno vrlo jakim slojem šminke. Valjda sam malo više izvirio lik za recepcijom me je i u onoj polutami snimio. "Trebate nešto?" Sada su svo troje gledali u mene. Za trenutak sam želio otrčati u sobu ali mi je mozak proradio da bi tek to bila glupost. Ubacih ruke u džepove traperica da se ne zamijeti da mi pomalo drhte i polako se uputih niz stube. Prsti desne ruke su mi lagano dodirivali nož "skakavac" koji sam kupio na nekoj benzinskoj čim smo prešli granicu Njemačke. Dok sam silazio ona žena me brzo odmjerila potom se okrenula prema ulazu promatrajući nešto nedokučivo vani. Ideja mi legla kada sam sišao sa zadnje stube i zastao. "Oprostite imate li nešto alkoholno za piće, rado bih naručio nešto." Recepcionar slegnu ramenima. "Žao mi je ne služimo niti piće izuzev na zabavama koje organiziramo." Pogledao je upitno onog drugog, koji je klimnuo glavom, i dodao. "Ali možemo vam dati jednu bocu dobrog crvenog vina, besplatno." Lik koji nas je vodio u sobu je nestao niz hodnik, žena je krenula za njim. Dok je prolazila pored mene osjetih jak miris kvalitetnog parfema. Ipak hodala je malo čudno, kao da se trudi djelovati što prirodnije. Lik iza pulta me pogledao onim svojim pogledom. "Kako vam se sviđa soba?" "Ma u redu je za umorne putnike." Trudio sam se da mi glas zvuči mirno. Gledao sam u sliku iznad recepcije. Prikazivala je ulaz u sličnu kuću ali je na drvenoj ploči iznad vrata bilo napisano "Zeppelin". Lik se nasmiješi. "Tako je motel izgledao prije drugog rata, zgrada je srušena kada je jedan američki bombarder, koji je zaostao iza grupe, slučajno istresao tovar bombi ovdje misleći da ih se riješi prije povratka doma. Mislili su vjerojatno da su sve istresli u šumu ali uništili su motel. Ovo sada nije baš originalan izgled bez obzira koliko se mi trudili vratiti mu stari sjaj. Drugi lik se vratio sa manjom bocom nekog crvenog vina u ruci. Pružio mi uz osmjeh. Onaj prvi je dodao uz osmjeh. "Možda se odlučite ostati ovdje, priroda je lijepa." Zahvalih se i polako krenuh uza stube. Gledali su za mnom. "Imate prekidač na vrhu stuba." Dobacio je recepcionar. Popeo sam se uza stube i uključio svijetlo. Dok sam išao prema sobi i meni se upalila žaruljica. Gledali su me kao što Strela gleda toplu pizzu nakon cijelog dana vožnje. Zaključao sam vrata i pustio ključ u bravi. Upalio sam svijetlo ali ona dvojica su spavala snom pravednika. Polako priđoh krevetu i prodrmah Škota. Bunovno je otvorio oči. "Škot moramo pričati ovdje je užas." Brzo se podigao na lakat. "Što je bilo, ukrali nam motore?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Ne Škot ali sišao sam malo dolje i skužio sam za one tipove dolje i cijelu konstrukciju možda. Znaš li gdje smo?" Govorio sam tiho pazeći da ne probudim Strelu koji bi počeo sa svađom i tako uzbunio pola hotela i ona čudna stvorenja. "Nalazimo se u motelu koji je uništen tijekom drugog svijetskog rata, a dolje je još i jedna jako čudna žena, zamjetili su me i zvukao sam se pitajući za piće. Dali su mi bocu vina besplatno, zamisli ne služe niti hranu niti piće i daju ti bocu vina besplatnog. Nadalje imam dojam da me ona dvojica gledaju kao da bi me rado konzumirali." Sve sam izbacio u jednom dahu. Pogledao me sanjivo ali žalosno i cinično. "Ja sam u krevetu, sa luđakom u sobi koji zabada nos gdje mu nije mjesto. Ok, likovi možda i budu malo čudni, možda ovdje dilaju prah ili rade slično. Dok ne misle da smo opasnost neće nam nitko ništa, a ti ćeš svojim zabadanjem nosa prouzročiti opasnost." Više skoro nije niti šaputao, ustao je otišao do prozora i pogledao vani. Zjevnuo je i vratio se u krevet. Pogledao me je. "Molim te ne lutaj po hotelu da ne vidiš nešto što ne bi trebao, iako je to tri postotka šanse. Idi do wc-a i vraćaj se u sobu to je jedina relacija koja ti je dopuštena. Ako ne možeš spavati drkaj ali ne tresi krevet. Sada ugasi svijetlo." Okrenuo se i pokrio po glavi. Ostao sam ljut i našpanan. Ugasio sam svijetlo i legao na krevet. Prije toga sam uzeo pepeljaru i pljosku sa Gromovačom, bocu vina sam pustio na stolici. Legao sam i zapalio. Otpio sam gutljaj potom izvadio onaj skakavac i stavio ga nadohvat ruke. Očigledno me je čekala duga noć kada sam imao dva razmažena luđaka kao društvo. Učinilo mi se da na hodniku čujem neke tihe šumove i uzdah ili jecaj, možda je to dopiralo i iz neke od soba prigušeno zidovima. Trudio sam se da ne mislim na sve što sam pročitao o sličnim situacijama. Ipak izvadih onaj lančić što mi je Bosa davno poklonila kao amajliju. Protrljao sam prstima malo pentagram. Iz hotela se nije čulo ništa. Izvana sam začuo zvuk sove. Popio sam još jedan gutljaj. U misli su mi dolazile riječi pjesme Eaglesa "Hotel Kalifornija". Umor na cesti, hotel u sumraku, čudni likovi u hotelu........ "Diži se fantazijo osam sati je ujutro." Škot me je protresao bez milosti. Zaspao sam tek sa prvim svitanjem i djelovalo mi je da nisam odspavao niti minute. Po dnevnom svijetlu soba je djelovala još jadnije. Umio sam se. Polako smo silazili stubama. Dnevna svijetlost je djelovala lijepo. Recepcija je još bila u polutami. Za pultom je bila ona čudna žena od sinoć. Djelovalo mi je da je onaj sloj šminke još jači, sada je bila u uzanoj majici dugih rukava koja je isticala njene grudi i dugoj suknji. Dalje nisam vidio. Gledala nas je pomalo sanjivo nekim praznim pogledom. Spustio sam stvari i izvadio novčanik. Mahnula je rukom spuštajući pogled na neku knjigu. "Ne treba, sretan put." Glas joj je bio malo čudan kao da se trudi da govori normalno. Pokupili smo stvari i izašli u svijetlo dana. Stavljali smo stvari na motore. Motel je izvana izgledao dosta zapušteno, ona unutrašnjost je bila premija prema vanjštini. Dok sam zatezao torbu zastao sam i pogledao Škota. "Nije ti ništa čudno, ne naplate nam prenoćište, a ona cura je skroz u kurcu." Škot je slegnuo ramenima. "Možda si je pukla jednu dozu praha previše ili se jebavala cijelu noć pa sada jedva sjedi na pički, što ja znam, ima migrenu od dnevnog svijetla." Zajahao sam motor i pogledao Strelu. Strela nije izdržao. "Sada će doći ona dva lika sa strojnicama i pobiti nas poslije će prodati naše organe da dobro zarade od našeg prenoćišta. Samo nisu željeli prljati motel iznutra zato su čekali jutro. Na žalost za tvoj ku..$..c neće dobiti niti pare, tako mali se ne prodaju nego dijele kao privjesak za uspomenu. Ipak ta cura ima dobre sise i malo bih je prasnuo da se probudi." Nabio je kacigu na glavu i startao motor. Iz nekog razloga čekali su da ja krenem prvi. Izašli smo na uzanu planinsku cestu, petnaest minuta kasnije ušli smo u malo uredno Njemačko selo. Na izlazu iz sela je bila benzinska dotankali smo do vrha . Nije postojao kafić pored benzinske ali su prodavali sendviče i kavu iz automata. Strela je uzeo sendviče za sve nas, a škot je pažljivo iznosio tri plastične čaše pojačane kave. Platio sam račun. Cura za blagajnom je bila tipična Njemica za Berlin Oktoberfest. Krupna sa velikim grudima i dugom plavom kosom. Dok sam uzimao sitniš komentirala je "da ne valja tako jake kave piti u tako velikim količinama ujutro, ono pojačana je za nakon ručka da se može dalje normalno raditi". Već nas je bila odmjeravala kada smo ušli pa iskoristih priliku. "U motelu gore ne služe ništa, pa su nam ovo prve jutarnje kave, za mene je to ljepota, kao i vaša kosa." Istina više sam gledao u njene grudi dok sam govorio o kosi. Možda mi da malo svoga mlijeka za kavu, a sudeći po obujmu bilo ga je dosta. Trgla se malo. "Kojem motelu?" "Zeppelin par kilometara prije sela." Samo me je pogledala i pognula glavu prema blagajni koju je zatvarala. Bilo kakve zainteresiranosti je nestalo. "Doviđenja." Zbunjen izašao sam na mali parking pored benziske i sjeo na zidić pored motora. Sendvič i kava su me čekali na zidiću. Otpih prvo gutljaj kave, a potom sam otvorio sendvič i zagrizao. Nisam želio davati povoda Streli da počne ponovno pa sam šutao i žvakao. Iznenada se na parkingu zaustavio stari mercedes. Iz zvučnika mečke su treštali jugo narodnjaci. Mali debeli lik je otvorio vrata i zaputio se prema benzinskoj, a potom zastao. Nosio je traperice i traper košulju zavrnutih rukava. Crna kosa je bila počešljana "na sve strane", ocjenih da ima oko četrdeset godina. Pogledao je ponovno naše registracije i nasmiješio se dok nam je prilazio. "Hej zemljaci otkud vi u ovim planinčinama. Ja ti bolan od jutros mislim kako bi bilo lijepo da popijem kafu sa nekim svojim." Prišao je široko se smiješeći. "Ja sam Ibrahim iz Doboja, ovdje vodim neku građevinsku grupu sve neki grci, turci i pokoji talijan niđe nikoga našeg da se ljudski ispričamo. Jeste za jednu kafu tu dolje niz ulicu ima jedan kafić ja častim. Sjetih se kafića – pizzerije pored koje smo prošli. Možda lik naruči i pizze, neki naši ovdje vani su se trudili da se "pokažu" kako im dobro ide. Pozdravili smo ga i predstavili se. Gledao nas je sa osmjehom i svakome srdačno stisnuo ruku. "Ja krenuo samo kupiti neki strip na benzinskoj, danas imam slobodan dan. Otkud vi tako rano u ovoj vukojebini sigurno ste na tim motorićima krenuli još u pet jutros?" Bio je radoznao i želio je biti ljubazan. Pogledah ga uz smiješak. Škot i Strela su još žvakali. "Krenuli smo prije pola sata, spavali smo gore u motelu." Namrštio se. "Kojem motelu Zeppelin?" Klimnuh glavom. "Ljubazni dečki tamo, nisu nam niti naplatili." Namrštio se zbunjeno pogledao nas brzo i počeo se okrertati od nas. "Žao mi raja žurim, sada sam se sjetio da nisam odnio šefu neki račun, aj pa zdravo." Krenuo je prema benzinskoj. Meni su živci pukli. Spustio sam sendvič na zid i pošao za njim. "Stani Ibrahime." Polako se okrenuo gledajući me zbunjeno. Prišao sam mu. "Meni su motel i likovi u motelu djelovali čudno ali su bili neprirodno ljubazni. Ti znaš nešto o tom motelu, sada mi reci što je sa tim motelom." Škot i Strela su prišli radoznalo gledajući u Ibrahima. Ibrahim je vrtio privjesak sa ključem mercedesa oko prsta. "Šta vi kao ne znate što je čudno, ovo je Njemačka ništa nije čudno." Bio sam na rubu živaca. "Ne znamo i sada nam reci zašto odjednom bježiš od nas kao da smo šugavi, a samo smo putnici u prolazu." Pogledao me sumnjičavo. "Dobro, kad već hoćeš da ti kažem, to ti je pederaških motel samo ti pederi koji se kriju i oni trnasvestiti sa svojim plaćenim ženskim kurvama idu tamo. Niste obučeni u žene pa niste transvestiti e pa možete biti samo ... nemam ja ništa protiv ali ...." Pogledali smo se između sebe. Škot se počešao po glavi. Strela je imao totalno zbunjen izraz lica, pogledao je u mene pa u Ibrahima. "Đoni je rekao da nas ona dva čudno gledaju, ali nisu nam htjeli niti naplatiti iako nismo pederi." Djelovao je krajnje zbunjeno i iskreno. Ibrahim se počeo opuštati i malo se nasmiješio. "Nisam vas želio vrijeđati ali to bolan svi u krugu od tristo kilometara znaju. Oni pederi što se prave da to nisu pobjegnu sa ljubavnikom od žena na dan dva ovdije i malo se provedu. Oni transvestiti što se vole oblačiti ko pičoke, a vole i žene isto kriju to pred ženama uzmu neku kurvu i plate joj na dan dva da iđe sa njima pa dođu u Zeppelin. Motel ti vode dva pedera i jedan transvestit. Ništa ne ulažu posebno u uređenje samo jamče diskreciju i kod doručka ručka večere je svatko kako hoće obučen. Iđe im dobro. Čudo da niste vidjeli da ona dvojica nose onu diskretnu "mušku" pedersku šminku." Pogledah u Strelu ogorčeno. "Ti bi prasnuo "onu" na recepciji ha.." Strela je pokunjeno slegao ramenima u stilu "što ja znam". Škot je mudro šutio. Ibrahim se očigledno zabavljao uz smiješak. Pogledao je Strelu. "Ne bi ti ništa sa "njoom" taj ti voli samo žene i to po dvije ali što ja znam, tako, voli se oblačiti ko žena. Jedan put smo im uređivali vodu pa mi kuharica sve ispričala. Ona dvojica bi vas rado "potrošila" čim su vam dali besplatno prenoćište. Nadaju se ako ste i ovo i ono možda navratite ponovno pa vam onda "naplate". Pljesnuo me po ramenu. "Oprosti ako sam lajao bez mozga, ajde idemo svi na kavu, počekajte da uzmem stripove pa idemo." Zaputio se ka benzinskoj. Petnaest minuta kasnije smo sjedili u kafiću sa Ibrahimom. Položio je dva stripa "Zagor" na stol, objasnio je da ih naruče sa centralnog kolodvora u Minhenu za njega. Kao što sam i očekivao naručio je i dvije velike pizze narezane u trokute iz "prostora do". Ispričao je kako je po pričama doznao da je motel Zeppelin bio čuveni "pedrski motel" nakon prvog svijetskog rata pa sve do uspona Hitlera. Bio je na osami i idealan za diskreciju. Hitler je u svom progonu homoseksualaca i motel zatvorio. Kasnije se tu smjestila neka sirotinja. Tijekom rata ga je pogodila jedna bomba i malo oštetila. Kasnije tijekom "Njemačkog gospodarskog čuda" neki su se dosijetili da je standard toliko porastao da će se naći dosta željnih "diskrecije". Tu ti dolaze pederi, transvestiti sa plaćenim ljubavnicama uglavnom svi oni koji to kriju od žena i na poslu. Tako neki uspješni menadžeri imaju ženu i dijete, a po Zeppelinu slave sa pravim ljubavnikom. Sat i pol kasnije Ibrahim nas je otpratio do prečaca za Minhen. Vozio je svojim Mercedesom ispred nas do male ceste potom parkirao sa strane, stisnuo je ruku svakome i klimnuo glavom pružajući mi komadić papira i nasmješio se. "Ako se vraćate ovuda ovo je broj kod gazdarice samo recite Ibro. Daj bolan javite se slobodno možete i kod mene u garsonjeri odspavati ne morate sa onim pederašima." Chopper za četiri osobe Dok smo kretali niz uzanu ali dobro uređenu cestu mahao nam je rukom. Cesta je bila tipični primjer njemačke pedanterije, dobro održavana i sa blagim dugim zavojima, pravi užitak za vožnju. Dan je bio lijep, a stara borova i hrastova stabla su se izmjenjivala uz cestu. Počelo mi je sve sličiti na legendu o Nibelunzima, pogotovu nakon prolaska kroz dva besprijekorno uređena sela. Ubrzo smo prošli Bad Tolz potom Penzberg i izbili na cestu za Minhen. Grad smo obišli nastojeći naknaditi vrijeme i preći čim više. Hvatali smo pravac Stuttgart – Karslsruhe -Frankfurt. Hvatali smo pravac Stuttgart – Karslsruhe -Frankfurt. Škot je hladnokrvno pio svoju pivu slušajući bubnjanje kiše po nadstrešnici na parkingu benzinske. Strela je motao cigaretu bez suvišnih poteza. Meni nije bilo do priče. Čekali smo već pola sata na prestanak ove dosadne kiše ali "onaj gore" je imao drugi plan. Paleći cigaretu sjetih se što mi je djed znao reći "Ako želiš nasmijati boga reci svoj plan za danas". Bilo je nečega u tome, prvo nas je zadržala prometna nesreća na cesti, a potom mini oluja. Na sreću već smo tankali benzu na ovoj super uređenoj i čistoj benzinskoj. Motore smo pustili na parkingu, a mi otrčali tih par koraka do kamenih stolova i klupa ispod nadstrešnice. Izgledalo je kao jedan od onih lakih brzih pljuskova tipičnih za ljeto ali ovdje na sjeveru to je izgleda funkcioniralo malo drugačije. Nakon mini oluje sa vjetrom i pljuskom uslijedila je dosadna jaka kiša jednoličnog zvuka. Strela je skoknuo do benzinske i vratio se sa vrećicom. Izvadio je i polako posložio na stol tri velike limenke piva, kruh u najlon pakiranju, neki sir u foliji i jedan od onih njemačkih wurst – eva, a koji bi mi okarakterizirali kao "parizer". Škot je samo konstatirao: "Ovdje i kruh nosi najlonke". Potom se bacio na rezanje hrane nožem koji je upravo kupio na benzinskoj. Bio je to tip noža koji smo zvali "žabica". Oštrica bi na pritisak tipke iskočila iz drške, a na drugi pritisak se uredno vratila na mjesto. Škot je par puta isprobao mehanizam prije nego se bacio na rezanje. Minutu kasnije svi smo žvakali bez namjere da puno pričamo, od one pizze sa Ibrahimom nismo ništa jeli. Sada kada su od hrane samo ostale mrvice od "kruha u najlonkama" na stolu, utonuli smo u svoje misli. Strela je zapalio cigaretu imitacijom Zippa koju je kupio na prethodnoj benzinskoj. Polako je ispustio dim. "Nalazimo se negdje oko Heidelberg-a ako se ne varam?" Klimnuh glavom bez puno volje za raspravu. Moja loša volja nije zbunila Strelu. "Već ide noćka, možda potražimo negdje mjesto za šator, neki kamp mislim. Postavimo šator i odmorimo do jutra ionako nije važno kada idemo dalje." Škot je klimnuo glavom, ja sam slegao ramenima uzimajući onu limenku sa ostatkom pive. Bilo kakvu diskusiju prekinuo je specifični zvuk motora. Kawasaki "Vulcan 400" se zaustavio na najbližoj mogućoj točki parkinga od našeg stola. Vozač je polako izbacio nožicu i parkirao, kao da ne pada kiša, potom je polako krenuo do zaklona i stola za kojim smo sjedeli. Skinuo je kacigu i ignorirajući vodu koja se cijedila sa kože u koju je bio obučen uz smiješak sjeo na kraj duge klupe. Mahnuli smo mu uz osmijeh. Klimnuo je glavom, odložio kacigu i počeo čistiti vodu sa kožne jakne. Bio je gremanski plavokos sa onom tipičnom Njemačkom uređenom bradom. Kada je završio sa uklanjanjem viška vode polako je izvadio paketić papirnih maramica i obrisao ruke, potom posegnuo u džep jakne i izvukao paketić nekih njemačkih cigareta. Zapalio je sa Zippom i ispustio dugi dim. Par minuta smo proveli u tišini čekajući tko će prvi početi. Polako je postajalo tamnije, a kiša ipak popuštala. Njemac je prvi popustio. Obratio se na engleskom pokazujući glavom ka našim motorima. "Vaši motori?" Klimnuh glavom. "Naši i dobro pokisli." Nasmijao se. "Ovdje se često spusti kiša, a nas na dva kotača to uvijek dobro opere. Kamo putujete?" "Hamburg ali večeras nema dalje, kasno je." Klimnuo je glavom i polako povukao dim iz cigarete potom pokazao rukom prema našim motorima. "Koliko kubika i koliko konja?" "Sto i sedamdeset pet, dvjesto i pedeset i tristo pedeset kubika." Izbacio sam brzo i u jednom dahu čekajući komentar. Nasmiješio se. "Svaka čast iz Jugslavia na tome do Hamburga. To treba odvoziti. Ove godine sam bio na Jadran kod Split, prekrasno." Razgovor je nakon toga potekao prirodno i opušteno. Njemac se zvao Jirgen i bio je "bajker po uvjerenju". Proputovao je dosta Evrope na dva kotača, a i jedan dio "Juge". Kiša je stala. Jirgen je otišao do motora i vratio se sa pljoskom koju je izvukao iz bisaga. Potegao je gutljaj potom pružio pljosku Streli. Strela se nije dvojio potegao je dobar "gut" pa dodao Škotu. Kada je pljoska stigla do mene već je bila pri kraju. Ispraznih ostatak i vratih je njemcu. Jirgen se nasmiješio i spremio je u džep jakne, potom nam pažljivo objasnio da na umjetnom jezeru, par kilometara dalje postoji kavana "Chopper". Vlasnica ima oko pedeset godina ali bajkeri su dobrodošli. Iza kavane je privatni vrt i mala kućica. Pripadaju vlasnici i često dopušta bajkerima da postave šator na noć dvije u vrtu. Treba samo popiti pivu i malo popričati sa istom potom je zamoliti za pomoć oko prenoćišta. U vrtu postoji tekuća voda i vanjski WC tako da je isto kao i kamp, a sve besplatno. Uz sve navedeno i ekipa koja se okuplja u kavani je OK, a kobasice dobro pečene. Mahnuo je rukom i uzeo kacigu. Gledali smo ga dok je startao motor i polako krenuo sa parkinga obilazeći poveliku baru masne vode. Pogledali smo se i Škot mahnu glavom u pravcu nestajućeg Jirgena. "Idemo na to jezero, kaže da je maksimalno pet do šest kilometara odavde?" Klimnuh glavom. "Vodi ti imaš najbolju orijentaciju i najbolje si vjerojatno zapamtio što je rekao." Strela ga pljesnu rukom po ramenu. Polako smo navukli kacige i nevoljko prišli vlažnim sjedalima motora. Noć se već polako spuštala. Nastojao sam ne zaboraviti "da je najvažnije prvi odvojak od ceste lijevo". Motori su startali bez problema. Kavana "Chopper" je izvana sličila na neki Saloon iz western filmova. Čak je imala i prečku za vezivanje konja cijelom duljinom ispred ulaza. Uz prečku nisu bili vezani konji nego parkirano par dobrih motora. Iznad staklenog ulaza je bio svijetleći natpis "Chopper". Pažljivo smo parkirali, već je bilo pomalo hladno nakon kiše. Polako smo ušao u polutamu. Sve je bilo jednostavno uređeno i bez ukrasa. Drveni stolovi i klupe, diskretna polutama i neka poluglasna rok glazba sa dobro raspoređenih zvučnika. Na drugom kraju je bio dugi šank sa barskim stolicama. Jedino su zidovi bili ukrašeni posterima iz filmova i posterima raznih tipova motora. Ugodna rupa sve u svemu. Dva stola su bila zauzeta. Za jednim su sjedila dva lika sa duljim bradama u kožnim jaknama i prslucima od trapera. Prsluke su krasile razne oznake, a lica likova brade. Noge u kaubojskim čizmama su nemarno opružili pored stola. Kratko su nas pogledali potom se vratili svome pivu u kriglama. Za drugim stolom je sjedio par. Cura je očigledno imala problema sa težinom i povelikom zadnjicom utegnutom u kožne hlače. Lik je bio mršav i oštrog pogleda sa štakorskim izrazom lica. Bio je najmanje za glavu viši od cure. Dok smo prilazili šanku rekao je nešto curi. Ova se okrenula i dobro nas odmjerila. Pripisah to radoznalosti. Iza šanka su pričali jedan debeli nijemac i zgodna žena. Sudeći po opisu bila je to vlasnica. Samo je djelovala najmanje desetak godina mlađa od pedeset. Plava kosa joj je bila vezana u konjski rep. Grudi su bile stvarno veće od normalno velikih, a struk uzan. Okrenula se i nasmiješila kada smo sjeli za šank. Zamjetih da je solidnu zadnjicu ubacila u uzane traperice koje su uz to isticale i par duljih nogu. Sve u svemu bila je seksipil. Lice je bilo pravilnih crta i okruglo, ten više nordijski crvenkast, oči plave i pogled oštriji. Progovorila je nekim dubokim ženskim glasom. "Izvolite mladići." Odmjerila nas je polako. Naručih tri piva od 0,3 na svome lošem njemačkom. Nasmješila se i klimnula glavom onom debelom plavokosom debilu koji nas je odmjeravao sa neskrivenim prezirom. Preko volje je otišao do pipe i počeo točiti pivo. "Dolazite iz daleka?" Bila je radoznala. "Iz Jugoslavije." "Daleeko, bila sam tamo na moru lijepo je." One oči su stvarno imale nešto u plavetnilu dubine. Debeli je donio tri pive i stavio ih pred nas. Ona ga pogleda prijekorno i rasporedi ih svakome po jednu, potom je izvadila cigaretu i zapalila je. Debeli se odmakao kao da ga smeta dim cigarete. Nasmiješila se i mahnula prema debelom. "Njemu smetaju cigarete misli da ima astmu. Stalno kuka o tome da radi posao bez veze i sve mu smeta. Pitam se zašto ga držim još uvijek. Ovdje ste u okolici ili u prolazu?" Trudio sam se biti odmjeren i šarmantan. "U prolazu i tražimo neko mjesto ili kamp za prenoćiti." Nije ništa rekla odmjerila me je ispod oka i udaljila se prema polici sa pićima. Promatrao sam je dok je polako ubacivala led u čašu, a potom isti obilato zalila iz neke boce. Polako se vratila, a ja sam razmišljao kako se kreće lako i elegantno sa tim prevelikim grudima. Polako je položila čašu na šank ispred sebe i otresla pepeo cigarete. Povukla je dobar gutljaj. "Vjerojatno očekujete prenoćište u mom vrtu. Imate šator?" Brzo klimnuh glavom. "Imamo sve što nam treba, a vas su preporučili kao osobu koja ima razumijevanje za moto putnike." Pokušao sam biti ljubazno šarmirajući uvlakač. Odmjerila je Škota sa zanimanjem potom se ponovno obratila meni. "OK možete postaviti šator u vrtu na noć dvije. Carsten će vam pokazati gdje." Pokazala je glavom na debelog na drugom kraju šanka. "Budite pristojni ili zovem prijatelje da vas umire. Motore možete pustiti ispred ulaza, tu su sigurni." Polako je prelazila prstom po rubu čaše, potom povukla još jedan dim iz cigarete. "Ova pića su vam na račun kuće ostalo plaćate, od hrane služimo samo ono na jelovniku iznad šanka." Uzela je čašu u ruku i namignula mi. "Idem reći debelom da vas odvede do mjesta za šatore, kada postavite šator navratite malo ovdje." Dvadesetak minuta kasnije smo završili sa postavljanjem šatora. Vrt je bio ograđen željeznom ogradom i živicom. Kućica je bila na drugom kraju i doslovce izgledala kao "kućica u cvijeću". Šator smo postavili na malom travnjaku na kome se nalazio i zidani prostor za alat sa WC-om u produžetku. Na vanjskoj strani zida bila je pipa sa vodom i umivaonik. Sve u svemu koliko smo vidjeli kroz svijetlo koje je dopiralo sa parkinga vrlo ugodno okruženje. Ubacili smo ono vojno šatorsko krilo na pod šatora kao dodatnu izolaciju i bacili vreće za spavanje preko toga. Mahnuo sam rukom i zaputio se prema ulazu u "Chopper", Škot i Strela su me pratili bez riječi. Na parkingu je bilo par motora više. Uglavnom za nas nedostižni "Suzuki" i "Kawasaki". Istina bio je i jedan Harley, nedefiniran ali sa jasnim oznakama proizvođača. Malo smo guštali "svo to kapitalističko blago" i pogledali se. Škot je slegao ramenima u stilu "što možeš njima je to lako dostupno". Dva mjesta na parkingu su zauzeli prerađeni "Ford Capri" sa širokim gumama i "VW Buba" ručno obojena u crno sa kromiranim branicima. Sve u svemu sudeći po ergeli prijevoznih sredstava vani u "Chopper-u" je bila zanimljiva ekipa. Unutrašnjost bara je bila malo više zadimljena nego prije. Očigledno se nije štedjelo na cigaretama. Glazba je bila u stilu "između rock i country", a više stolova zauzeto uglavnom parovima dečko cura. Prije nego smo sjeli za stol Strela je otišao do šanka i pogledao "Taglich Menu". Vratio se zadovoljan. "Znači "Suzuki za dvije osobe" je dva hamburgera, dupli pomfri i dvije pive, cijena četrnaest maraka. To je za tri osobe OK, samo naručimo još jednu pivu i sve štima?" Škot ga pogledao malo začuđeno. "Suzuki za dvije osobe?" Strela je klimnuo glavom. "Tako sam skužio ima tri menija "Suzuki za dvije osobe", "Wurst parti Kawasaki" i "Chopper menu". Slegoh ramenima. "A što ti je "Chopper menu"?" "Meni ništa ni rod ni prijatelj ali tamo piše koliko se kužim da su to dvije kobasice, dva jaja, dupli pomfri dvije pive i salata valjda od luka nisam siguran sa tim Zwiebel. Ali to ti je 20 marona." Škot i ja smo se pogledali, jeli smo nešto prije par sati još nije bilo problema sa hranom izuzev normal Streline "vječne gladi". Škot mi namignu. "Jebi ga dečko je u razvoju i treba jesti što češće ali da za početak uzmemo samo tri male pive?" Pogledao sam Strelu i klimnuo glavom. "Možemo taj suzuki ili chopper naručiti kasnije kada malo probavimo ono sa benzinske, OK?" Strela nije skrivao razočaranje ali je klimnuo glavom. Pitao sam se kako je ostao vitak. Čekali smo i promatrali okolne stolove. Onaj debeli konobar nas je ignorirao, a gazdarica je imala posla na šanku, intezivno je razgovarala sa dva visoka bradata lika u koži i točila čaše pive. Zamjetih da je ekipa ojačana za još jednu konobaricu tipično germanskog izgleda, plava kosa, bijela put, bujno poprsje utegnuto u košulju od trapera i uz to u minici i kaubojskim čizmama. Mahnuh konobarici ali je samo klimnula glavom i produljila ka slijedećem stolu. Par minuta kasnije gazdarica se odvojila od šanka i prišla našem stolu. Ljubazno mi se nasmješila. "Što pijemo ili jedemo?" "Može tri piva 0,3? Kasnije možda uzmemo jedan suzuki ili slično ojačan za jedno pivo." Klimnula je glavom i pogledala me ispod oka, prije nego je otišla namignula mi. Škot je malo podigao obrve. "Đoni matorki se digao klića na tebe izgleda? Ili mi se samo tako čini?" Strela je samo blago klimnuo glavom. Slegoh ramenima. "Ništa se još ne zna. Možda je samo ljubazna sa nama budući da joj djelujemo kao jadnici iz socijalističkog realizma." Škot odmahnu glavom. "Takve nemaju baš mnogo emocija niti osjećaja za politiku. Meni sliči na onu - uzmi sve što ti život pruža", klimnuo je i nasmješio se. Pivo je donio debeli Carsten, bez riječi ga je posložio ispred nas i okrenuo se na peti. Očigledno nije baš pucao od želje niti za najmanjim kontaktom sa nama. Valjda nas je svrstao u "nižu životnu klasu". Škot ga je ispratio pogledom i podigao čašu. "Živjeli luzeri i debeli nas ignorira kao i dobar komad konobarice i sve cure u lokalu." Podigli smo čaše i otpili pivo. Strela je pokazao glavom u pravcu udaljenog stola za kojim su sjedile dvije cure. Pogledah pažljivije naznačeni pravac i sadržaj stola. Nisu bile loše, dapače bile su zgodne sa tipičnim germanskim facama i plavom kosom. Bolje je bilo što su bile u nekim majicama bez rukava, kratkim vrućim hlačicama i kaubojskim čizmama, uz to noge su im bile utegnute u neke crne najlonke. Sve u svemu bile su seksi obučene za ovo mjesto. Pitao sam se da li su došle nekim od ona dva auta ili motorom. Pričale su nešto između sebe i nisu mnogo obraćale pažnju na okolicu. Pogledah Strelu upitno. Klimnuo je glavom. "Par puta su nas odmjerile. To nikada nije bez razloga." Škot je podigao obrve. "Njih dvije za nas, a Đoniju gazdarica pa nam bude sve besplatno." Obojica su se nasmijala. Ponovno bacih pogled ka šanku. Gazdarica je ispirala čaše i slagala ih u perilicu iza sebe. Radila je to vješto i profesionalno. Bio sam umoran ali pomisao na velike grudi gazdarice u mojim rukama i vjerojatno njeno veliko iskustvo u službi mog seksualnog zadovoljstva me je uzbudila. Pitao sam se što bi sve bila voljna učiniti u seksu. Zaključio sam dosta toga. Iz kuhinje je počeo dopirati miris hrane. Prevagnuo je miris roštilja i pomfrija. Pitao sam se tko radi u kuhinji. Možda neka zgodna cura ili još jedan debeli Carsten? Ma nije važno dobro je bilo i ovo izvan kuhinje, a gazdarica je još jedan put pogledala u pravcu našeg stola. Za sada ide dobro. Škot je namignuo pokazujući ka šanku i polako se digao od stola. "Dečki idem do one dvije sa mojim "tarzan english" pa što bude bude." Pogledao je Strelu mene potpuno ignorirajući. "Ako sjednem za stol uskači na zadnje sjedalo." Strela je klimnuo glavom i nasmiješio se. Počeh razmišljati zašto sam ja isključen iz igre. Po pravilu igra je uvijek bila za trojicu ovaj put Škot, vječni pokretač "idemo startati komade", me je isključio iz plana. Ipak prije polaska mi je namignuo i pokazao glavom ka šanku gdje je gazdarica lokala njihala svoje bujno poprsje pred onim likovima u koži. Polako je krenuo prema stolu one dvije predstavnice germanske rase, uz put je iznenada zastao za stolom neka dva lika sa oznakama na leđima i počeo neku priču. Ovaj trik mi je bio poznat uvijek blizu stola potencijalnih predmeta želja je bio stol koji je možda pogodan za kontakt. Kasnije se lako prebacivao na stol "predmeta želja" i sve je djelovalo izrazito prirodno i opušteno. Sjetih se ona tri mjeseca provedenih uz vožnju i opuštanje po Jadranskoj obali i Bosni, Škot je tamo bio "zakon" za cure. Pomislih da nema razloga da i ovdje ne bude isto. Strela je promatrao napredovanje Škota i namignuo mi. "Koristi stari trik, brinem se za njega, uvijek izmisli nešto novo a sada je na starom. Možda je umoran." Slegoh ramenima i posvetih se svojoj pivi. Par minuta kasnije Škot je zvršio razgovor sa ona dva lika i elegantno se prebacio za stol one dvije njemice. Pomislih da je stvarno majstor i zakon. Pogledao sam za šank. Ovaj put gazdarica je bila sama. Polako je glancala čaše iz sušilice i povremeno ispaljivala seriju prema debelom Carstenu i onoj konobarici. Namignuh Streli. "Možda odem naručim jedan menu ako si za?" Pažljivo je pratio situaciju sa Škotom i one dvije njemice čekajući znak da uskače ali je klimnuo glavom prema meni. "Može želudac mi pomalo radi." Uzeo sam čašu i polako se digao i krenuo prema šanku. Kada sam prilazio gazdarica me samo kratko pogledala. Ugodno se smjestih na visoku stolicu sa uzanim sjedalom. Sjedajući pomislih da onaj vic "Kada je prostitutka zrela za mirovinu?" - Odgovor: "Kada sjedne na barsku stolicu i propadne.", nije bio bez vraga. Samo je prostitutka bila iz neke znanstvene fantastike. Gazdarica me ponovno pogledala sa osmjehom. "Mladiću što bih mogla učiniti za vas?" Ton je bio između ciničnog i šaljivog ali to da me je zamijetila "na prvo sjedanje za šank" je bilo znakovito. Igra mi je dalje bila jasna ili je zainteresirana ili se igra mačke i miša i pali me kako bi kasnije imala temu za svoje seksualne maštarije. Već sam imao dovoljno iskustva da skužim sve spomenuto. Jedini pravac koji mi je iskustvo nalagalo bio je "direktan udarac u glavu" odnosno ili budi direktna u najkraćem roku ili odstupi odmah. Sve druge kombinacije davale su rezultat da ispadneš samo budala u "ženskim rukama", a dosta žena je rado igralo tu igru "napravi budalu od lika koji je zapaljen". Psihološki mi bilo lakše, i ovdje su važila ista muško ženska pravila, samo su možda žene bile direktne u iskazivanju svojih želja. Polako sam otpio pivu i pogledao je. Već je bila blizu mene gledajući me sa nedefiniranim osmjehom, odnosno dijelio nas je samo uski šank. Jebi ga ništa bolje mi nije padalo na pamet ali odvalih odgovor bez razmišljanja. "Lijepe stvari ako bi isto vama bilo u glavi ali za sada ako možemo naručiti dva "suzuki menu" i jedan pomfrit više." Računao sam na Strelinu vječnu glad i moj potencijalni promašaj kod gazdarice, tako da imam sa čime zaposliti zube i smiriti živce. Na moje čuđenje samo je sa osmjehom klimnula glavom i pogledala me ispod oka. Ovo je bilo više nego dovoljno za zaključak "o situaciji". Polako sam otpio pivo razmišljajući da li je bolji efekt da se vratim za stol ili da ostanem za šankom. Gazdarica se izgubila na minutu ali je ponovno bila nazad razmjenujući "uz put" par riječi sa likom na drugom kraju šanka. Kada je prišla položila je dvije uske visoke čašice ispred nas, potom je polako dodala po krišku limuna na svaku čašu i stavila slanik između. Nasmiješila se. "Tekila, nazdravimo na eks." Uzela je slanik lznula svoju nadlanicu i istresla malo soli na istu. Pogledala me prodorno pa sam ponovio njen postupak. Potom je podigla čašicu gledajući me u oči. "Skol kako bi rekli vikinzi." "Skol." Odgovorih ne baš svjestan što to znači. Liznula je svu sol sa nadlanice i ispila tekilu "na eks". Učinih isto. Dok je sisala onu krišku limuna činila mi se izrazito seksi. Imala je neke pune usne. Ubacih svoj limun među zube i povukoh par "usisavanja". Legao mi je limun nakon tekile "na eks". Gazdarica je pokazala glavom iza mene. "Ostao si sam za stolom ali mislim da ti se prijatelji brzo vrate. Sjedi nazad za stol donesem ti hranu i popričamo." Ton i način kako je sve bilo izgovoreno nisu dopuštali bilo kakvu raspravu. Sve je bilo "uzmi ili ostavi". Polako sam se digao i krenuo ka "našem stolu". Uz put bacih pogled prema stolu onih njemica, Škot i Strela su nešto raspravljali sa istima. Sudeći po pokretima bilo je dosta "tarzana english – a" dopunjenog pantomimom. Polako se spustih na svoju stolicu stavljajući onaj ostatak pive u čaši ispred sebe. Bacio sam pogled na "onaj stol" ali moji prijatelji nisu obraćali pažnju na mene. Bili su zauzeti sa nekim intezivnim objašnjenjem sa puno pokreta. Ako ne dođe gazdarica bit ću "na suhom" i sa svojim mislima. To nisam volio. Atmosfera u lokalu je postajala "žešća" u zadnjih deset minuta. Prvo je puštena glazba "Born to be wild" pa "Road to heal", a sada je išlo "Yo, Ho, Ho, and a Bottle of Rum!" (fifteen man on the deadmans chest). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89BlFxuyqYQ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89BlFxuyqYQ) Za susjednim stolovima su počeli udarati kriglama pive o stol u skladu sa ritmom glazbe. Dim cigareta i ponekog "jointa" je unatoč ventilaciji zamaglio pogled na okolicu. Sve je sličilo da ide ka nekoj kulminaciji samo sam se pitao čega. Kroz dimnu zavjesu zamjetih gazdaricu kako se sa poslužavnikom u ruci približava stolu. Njihala je kukovima vrlo prirodno. One grudi su sada bile u traper košulji sa raskopčanih par prvih gumbića odnosno vidio se manji dio majice ispod kušulje i veći dio grudi. Polako je spustila poslužavnik na stol i sjela. Zamjetih da su na poslužavniku kobasice luk i pomfrit u većoj količini. Uz sve su bile i dvije visoke čaše do dvije trećine ispunjene nekom bijelom tekućinom te dvije čaše pive. To nikako nije sličilo na "Suzuki menu" ali je obećavalo potencijalni dobar provod ove noći. Zaboravih na stol gdje su Škot i Strela dokazivali sposobnost komuniciranja na "tarzan english" i znanje pantomime. Ovo za mojim stolom je bilo realno i dobro oblikovano. Gazdarica se smjestila na stolicu preko puta mene i podigla jednu od onih čaša sa bijelom tekućinom. "Rum Havana Club hladan najbolje ide. Skol." Pogledah dekolte košulje majicu vidljivi dio grudi i osmjeh punih usana i više nesvjesno nego svjesno podigoh čašu. "Skal madam." Nasmijala se i ispila "na eks". Ponovih isto. Pjesma "Yo, Ho, Ho, and a Bottle of Rum!" se zvaršila, a sada je iz strateški raspoređenih zvučnika treštala "Drunken Sailer". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGyPuey-1Jw (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGyPuey-1Jw) Dim u zraku, atmosfera u lokalu, popijeni alkohol i cigareta u ruci su mi dodali hrabrost. Uhvatio sam je za ruku u kojoj je držala cigaretu i polako se naginjao prema njoj. Nije se odmakla ili izvukla ruku iz moje. Samo se blago nagnula naprijed i primila moj poljubac i jezik u usta. Lagano se odmaknula nasmiješila i povukla dim iz cigarete. Sjedila je naslonjena na stolicu promatrajući lokal. Polako je ugasila cigaretu i izvukla nešto što je sličilo na smotani Joint iz džepa košulje. Zapalila je sa Zippo upaljačem koji je odložila na sredinu stola polako povukla dim i duboko ga udahnula. Iz zvučnika je treštao Nazareth "This flight tonight". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylW6sC6NNhY (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylW6sC6NNhY) Polako se nagnula naprijed udišući dim iz jointa i pokazala prstom da se približim. Izdahnula je dim u moja usta dok su nam usne bile čvrsto spojene. Ovo je doista bila dobra trava sudeći po okusu ili je to bila opijenost "uspjeha u lovu". Odmaknula se i povukla dim uz osmijeh. Potom mi dodala joint. Povukao sam dim i vratio ga preko stola. Polako sam otpio ostatak iz čaše. Pogledah prema onom stolu gdje su mi prijatelji izvodili pantomimu ali puno likova je ustalo od stola plešući uz glazbu i ispijajući pivu. Ništa se nije vidjelo izuzev izmaglice duhanskog i dima indijske konoplje. Pogledah prema gazdarici. Smiješila se potom nagnula prema meni pružajući mi joint. "Ja sam Hilda, a ti?" Trudila se nadglasati glazbu. Uzeo sam joint i povukao dim. Stvarno je ovo bila dobra trava. "Zoran ali zovu me Djoni." Vratih ostatak joint-a preko stola. Povukla je dim duboko udahnula i mahnula konobarici koja je upravo prolazila. Nešto je odbrusila na njemačkom moja opijenost cijelom situacijom nije dopustila da skužim što. Minutu kasnije ispred nas su bile dvije nove čaše hladnog "Havana Club". Ispili smo na eks. Razmišljao sam da li će izvaditi još jedan joint ali na svu sreću nije, samo je otkopčala košulju do kraja sada su navalu grudi priječili samo tanka majica i činilo mi se još tanji grudnjak. Poljubili smo se preko stola. Uzeh njenu ruku u moju i pomiješamo prste u klupko. Na zvučnicima je počela glazba iz filma "The good the bad and the ugly". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFa1-kciCb4 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFa1-kciCb4) Ljubili smo se dugo. Odvojila se od mene i duboko udahnula. "Sladak si Džoni." Ponovno je mahnula konobarici. Minutu kasnije ispred nas su bile dvije nove čaše. Klimnula je glavom i nasmiješila se. "Skal Džoni!" (ponovno u stilu skool). Podigoh čašu. "Skal." Više me nije bilo briga za Škota i Strelu, put ili bilo što drugo jedino sam želio uvaliti se u tu mekoću i iskustvo zrele žene. Polako me privukla i poljubila. Poljubac je bio jedan od onih koji "obaraju sa nogu". Druge dvije čaše su bile na našem stolu. Glazba je prešla u mirniji ritam ali dim je bio gušći. Iz zvučnika se čulo "ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vn23e9GnhI (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vn23e9GnhI) Prebacio sam se na drugu stranu stola i poljupci su bili dugi. Osjetih nokte na svojim leđima. Zavukla je ruke ispod jakne i noktići mačke su derali kroz majicu. Polako odvojih usne od njenih. Odmaknula se od mene. Pogledah prema onom stolu gdje se ubacili Škot i Strela. Škot je kroz pukotinu dima i ljudskih tijela gledao prema našem stolu. Pogledi su nam se susreli nasmiješio se u stilu "uživaj". Osjećao sam se moćno. Zagrlio sam Hildu i privukao je na rame. Nije se protivila, a nove dvije čaše su se našle ispred nas. Konobarica mi se nasmiješila. Sve je djelovalo dobro i previše dobro. Pogladih je drugom rukom blago po kosi. "Do kada moraš raditi ovdje?" Malo se odmakla od mene i pogledala me u oči, bio je to duboki čudni pogled. "Do kada želim, debeli je tu on je ako ništa drugo pošten do kraja i sve će obaviti kako treba, ali ..." Grlo mi se malo stisnulo ono "ali" nije obećavalo dobro. Pogledah je u oči prodornim pogledom. "Ali što?" Malo samo malo je iskrivila glavu. Potom je polako ali dovoljno glasno počela." "Džoni ok si zgodan visok i to ali ja bih vas svu trojicu." Malo se odmakoh od Hilde. Nisam bio siguran da sam dobro skužio što je rekla na kraju moj njemački je bio loš. "Što misliš sa tim." Pažljivo se okrenula i uhvatila me za obije ruke. Gledala me u oči. "Ti tvoja dva prijatelja i ja to je kombinacija." Osjećao sam se izgubljeno ili nisam dobro skužio ili je moj uspjeh sa Hildom "drek na žbici". "Časno odstupanje" nije bilo moguće jedino "agresivan pristup" je preostao. "Kako misliš nas tri i ti. Što bi radili?" Pogledala me sa osmijehom. "Imam par video kazeta ako ti nije jasno što bi radili. Ali nije bitno ugodna noć. Ako se dogovorite dođi do šanka, poslije idemo kod mene." Izvukla je ruke iz mojih i polako se počela provlačiti pored mene. Uhvatih je za ruku. U meni je ključalo želja, bijes, iznenađenje tuga. "Možda bih ja volio dvije žene u krevetu, a moji prijatelji su se kako mi se čini udomili za noćas?" Pogledala me nekim čudnim pogledom, potom je pogledala prema stolu sa Škotom i Strelom i one dvije njemice. "Nisu one dvije su lezbijke ali vole očijukati sa dečkima tek toliko da si dokažu nešto, ne znam što. Što se tiče dvije cure u tvom krevetu i to je moguće ali sada sam u drugoj fazi." Pogladila me rukom po obrazu i polako je spustila na moje grudi. U tom polu ustajućem položaju sa grudima ispod moga nosa i rukom na mojim grudima bila je taaako seksi. "Džoni sladak si mladi komad, javi se kada se budeš vraćao doma možda budem u fazi koju ti voliš." Polako se izvukla između stola i mene i otišla do šanka. Nastavila je točiti piće i glancati čaše. Djelovala je hladno i pričala sa svakim tko bi prišao šanku. Bacih pogled na gomilu hrane na pladnju, nije mi se jelo. Konobarica se stvorila pored mene i pustila mi na stol čašu sa hladnim "Havana Club". Iz zvučnika je deralo "Live is Life". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGikhmjTSZI (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGikhmjTSZI) Pogledah za drugi stol. Škot se polako dizao uz osmjeh Strela je ustajao sa one stolice na koju se uvalio zbunjena izraza lica. Kroz izmaglicu dima nisam bio siguran da li su djelovali razočarano. Polako su prišli i sjeli za stol. Strela je zamijetio hranu i bacio se na kobasice i pomfrit. Škot me polako pogledao. "One dvije su ...." "Lezbijke." Dopunih ga. Pogledao me umorno i klimnuo glavom. Polako je uzeo jedan pomfrit sa tanjura i ubacio ga u usta. Žvakao je temeljito da smiri hormone. "Koliko dođe ovo zadovoljstvo hrane?" Djelovalo je da pita više reda radi, Strela je žvakao drugu kobasicu ne uzbuđujući se. Slegoh ramenima. "Ništa Hilda časti odnosno gazdarica časti." Pogledao me i ubacio drugi pomfrit u usta. "Barem se tebi posrećilo. Spavaš kod nje noćas?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Prima ili svu trojicu ili ni jednog." Strela je prestao žvakati kobasu i gledao u mene u stilu "sunčanica je kriva". Škot se nasmijao. "Zna žena što hoće, život je jedan i što si joj rekao?" Ponovno slegoh ramenima imitirajući Dudeka iz popularne serije "Gruntovčani". "Kaj ti ja znam ne pačam se u politiku." Škot se nasmijao, a Strela nastavio žvakati. Iz zvučnika je treštalo "Comandante Che Guevara ". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSRVtlTwFs8 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSRVtlTwFs8) Polako smo napuštali stol, Hilda je još bila u svom filmu na šanku, glancanje čaša i povremeni razgovori sa likovima za šankom. Škot i Strela su krenuli prema vratima, ja nisam mogao to učiniti, još mi je u glavi sviralo "Comandante Che Guevara ". Tada je to značilo puno toga. Da nisi "peder nego lik" da si pomalo anarhist (za razliku od "tvrdog socijalizima") da si "faca". Polako sam prišao šanku i čekao da mi se obrati. Nakon par minuta se isplatilo nije izdržala. "Džoni što mogu učiniti za tebe?" Pogledah je jednim od svojih "sada i nikada više" pogleda razvijenih u par godina komuniciranja sa ženama. "Ako ne puštaš glazbu po planu daj mi još jedan put "Live is Life"." Dugo me gledala potom klimnula glavom bez daljnjih komentara. "OK Džoni za tebe." Okrenuo sam se i polako krenuo prema izlazu. Par koraka kasnije pratila me glazba "Live is Life". Nije to bilo što sam želio ali je ipak bilo nešto. Polako zatvorih vrata za sobom. Vani je bilo svježe i hladno. Polako sam krenuo prema šatoru koji smo postavili. U glavi mi još bila slika iz jednog pra starog filma "Sa Zapada", a remake istog je bio urađen par godina prije pod nazivom "Vatrene ulice". Ono "Live is Life" je bila scena kada lika koji je propalitet pitaju za pomoć da se riješe drugih siledžija. Isti im kaže "Želite bitangu koja će riješiti vaš problem? E pa nema kvalitetne bitange za malu lovu." Tada počinje glazba "Live is Life". Ubacih se u šator i umotah u vreću za spavanje. U mislima sam bio sa Hildom. Ona dvojica su već spavali "snom pravednika". Očigledno nisu ni poljubili niti jednu od one dvije "lezbe" pa ih nije imalo što mučiti. Mene je. Sat vremena kasnije sam bio budan. Spavao sam možda petnaest minuta. Polako da ne probudim dva "pravednika" se izvukoh iz šatora. To je bio jedini šator koji smo posjedovali, ništa posebno makedonski "Lisca" za tri osobe. Polako sam navukao čizme i jaknu. Izvukao sam cigaretu iz džepa traper košulje i zapalio. Duhan me malo smirio sjetih se reklame za "Marlboro" - "Sa cigaretom nisi sam" i uz to slika kauboja na konju koji kuri upravo marlboro. Suzdržah smijeh. Polako sam krenuo svijesno ili ne svijesno prema "Chopper-u". Vani u kutu mi se činilo da vidim žar cigarete. Polako sam prišao. Carsten je sjedio na gajbi od pive i pušio. Čudna situacija za nekoga tko" ima astmu i ne podnosi dim cigarete". Pogledao me ne baš iznenađen. Bilo je to tipično suho njemački "Čus" bez osjećaja. Stao sam pored njegove "fotelje" i povukao dim iz cigarete. "Hilda zna da pušiš?" Pogledao me mrzovoljno. "Ne baš, misli da mi smeta dim duhana." Klimnuh mu glavom. "I voli tri dečka u krevetu pa smo ti i ja jednaki." Nije reagirao na izjavu. Povukli smo još par puta svatko iz svoje cigarete. Slegoh ramenima i izbacih svoj loši njemački. "OK ne želim te gnjaviti idem natrag u vrt." Bacio sam cigaretu i ugasio je petom čizme. Krenuo sam polako ka šatoru, iza sebe sam čuo tipično "Hei". Okrenuh se na peti, Carsten mi je mahao slobodnom rukom. Polako sam mu prišao. Ustao je i bacio čik na beton potom ga pažljivo ugasio petom cipele. Stao je pred mene kao da me izaziva. Bio je skoro za glavu niži ali me gledao direktno u oči. Nisam se osjećao ugodno, bilo je nešto u tom debelom liku što je govorilo "ne zajebavaj ga bez razloga". Polako me odmjerio. "Ja je volim i znam jedno, nikada nikome ne nudi ništa ako nije zainteresirana za njega. Zato vrati se nazad i zagrli je, ako ti je nešto ponudila znači da si ti prvi u igri, a ostalo pusti na stranu. Možeš ući na zadnji ulaz slijedećih petnaest minuta ti pustim otvoreno." Polako se okrenuo i ušao na zadnji ulaz. Ostao sam sam sa sobom. Polako sam sjeo na gajbu na kojoj je minutu prije sjedio debeli Carsten. Lik mi je djelovao OK, sada nakon par razmijenjenih riječi. Zapalih novu cigaretu. Imao sam "cajta" popušiti cigaretu i ući na zadnji ulaz ako to odlučim. Na kraju krajeva mogao sam i na glavni ulaz bez frke. Bitno je ostati hladan. Nebo je bilo prekriveno zvijezdama. Par minuta kasnije ugasih pola cigarete petom i krenuh prema zadnjem ulazu. Bio je otključan. Polako otvorih vrata i provukoh se u svijetlo kuhinje. Carsten je upravo pričao sa debelom plavokosom njemicom, crvenom u licu od toplote električnog roštilja na kojem je okretala kobasice i hamburgere. Pogledali su me i produljili svoj razgovor kao da se ništa nije dogodilo. Polako prođoh prema slijedećim vratim i provukoh se kroz njih. Hilda je upravo izvlačila i slagala novu pivu u bocama u hladnjak. Zadnjica je bila znatno iznad hladnjaka i bila je jedna od rijetkih ženskih zadnjica na koju mi se dizao. Polako sam zatvorio vrata i čekao. Kada je završila slaganje okrenula se i iznenađeno ustuknula korak. Pogledala me i polako se nasmiješila. "Ne spavaš Džoni?" Već točno spominjanje mog nadimka je govorilo dosta. Odmahnuh glavom. "Ne mogu, mislim na tebe i onih par poljubaca koji su bili tek tako." Nadao sam se da je moj njemački dosta precizan nisam želio da sve dobije drugi tonalitet. Mahnula mi je rukom da priđem. Dok sam prilazio izvadila je bocu "Havana Club" iz hladnjaka i dvije čaše. Polako je nasula piće i pružila mi čašu. Nadao sam se da to nije ono "popij i nestani". Podigla je čašu. "Skal." Ponovno je to zvučalo kao skool. "Živjeli ." Odgovorih. Pogledala me iznenađeno i nasmiješila se. Ispili smo na eks. Gledao sam je, bila je za glavu niža od mene. Gledala me bez izraza lica potom me polako uhvatila za rub jakne i povukla ka sebi. Poljubac je bio dug. "Noćas uzimam samo tebe ali sutra nestani." Sve je bilo izgovoreno uz smiješak i nije zvučalo grubo. Uhvatih je za ruku i ponovno poljubih. Poljubac je bio jedan od onih "praskavaca" – ravno u glavu. Stisnula mi je jače prste i pustila ruku potom otišla do konobarice nešto joj objašnjavajući tihim glasom. Pogledah po lokalu. Bilo je skoro pusto. Za stolovima je ostalo još par ljudi. Dva para koji su se nemilice ljubili i nekoliko polupijanih samaca. Prišla mi je i uhvatila me za ruku, potom nježno poljubila. Polako smo krenuli ka kuhinjskom izlazu. Dok smo prolazili kroz kuhinju pogledah Carsten-a, samo mi mahnuo rukom i produljio pričati sa onom debelom kuharicom. Kuharica je gledala za nama dok sam pažljivo puštao ulazna vrata, nadao sam se da će provesti noć sa Crastenom mislim da si pašu. Polako smo prešli kamenu stazu od restorana do kuće. "Kućica u cvijeću" je i iznutra izgledala isto. Prizemlje sa velikim dnevnim boravkom prepunim cvijeća u posudama i kat sa spavaćim sobama. Nismo stigli do kata. Pravac Hamburg Pravac Hamburg "Popušio bih ti da dođeš sebi ali nemam povećalo da ti ga nađem!" Strela je bio u svom elementu, gurajući vrhom kaubojske čizme komadić sendviča prema košari za smeće. Ja svoj sendvič nisam pojeo. Ležao je na klupi pored mene na komadu najlona. Ponovno je na meniju bilo sendviči od "kruha sa najlonkama" i neke suhe salame, uz to po limenka kole svakome. Ovo je bila neka jeftina kola u bijelim limenkama. Nije bilo bitno imala je skoro isti okus kao originalna Coca Cola. Otpio sam gutljaj iz limenke i zapalio novu cigaretu. Škot me upitno pogledao. "Koji ti ku..$..c Djoni, nisi progovorio niti riječ zadnjih par sati? Nije ni čudo da se Strela brine za tebe." Odmahnuh glavom izbjegavajući pogledati ih u oči. "Dečki "no sikiriki", samo sam umoran." Strela je laganim udarcem noge smjestio ostatak sendviča pored košarice za smeće i okrenuo se. "Pa daa ti si "radiijo" cijelu noć i sada bi te trebali žaliti. Mada moram priznati ona kava i kajgana ujutro su bili prava stvar. Jedina korist od tvog seksanja sa ekstremnim parom sisa." Ipak je pokupio rukom komadić kruha i salame od sendviča i ubacio ih u košaru. Pripisah njegov ispad tome što mu je zadnji komadić sendviča ispao iz ruke dok je posezao za limenkom cole. Kada je hrana bila u pitanju lako je pucao po živcima. Škot ga je pogledao sa zanimanjem. Odmahnuo je rukom i slegao ramenima. "Pusti Djonija na miru, ako je ok i možemo dalje, svaki dalji razgovor i podjebavanje bi bili bespredmetni." Strela je morao "imati zadnju". "Pustio bih ga ali mu se očigledno nije digao noćas pa je sve morao odraditi jezikom. E sad vidiš razhebo je istegao ili potrošio jezik pa od jutros šuti." Hilda je to jutro napravila jaja na kajganu u četiri tanjura i punu posudu filter kave. Dodala je i bokal svježeg soka od naranče. Sve je smjestila na malu terasu prema vrtu. Nakon toga me probudila i obavijestila da pozovem prijatelje. Doručkovali smo uz malo razgovora. Meni se spavalo i nisam želio otići od te žene ali dogovor od sinoć i jutarnji doručak sa kavom jasno su govorili da "nema daljnje rasprave". Uz sve navedeno bila je ljubazna ali distancirana, kao da se ništa nije dogodilo već samo služi goste u svom lokalu. Škot je ubacio par ljubaznih riječi na engleskom, a Strela je samo par puta rekao "Thank you madam". Šator smo spakirali za petnaest minuta. Bilo je oko 9 sati kada smo prišli motorima. Hilda me ipratila do motora. Pogledao sam je, a ona se nasmiješila i dala mi pusu u usta. To je bilo sve. Pogladio sam je po obrazu vrhovima prstiju potom se okrenuo prema motoru. Škot i Strela su već sjedili na svojima gledajući u drugom pravcu. Dok sam se okretao osjetih da me uhvatila za lakat sa leđa. Zastao sam i kada me povukla okrenuo sam se ka njoj. Gledala me u oči uz osmijeh. Potom me polako privukla i poljubila nježno. Bio sam zbunjen. Ona je samo posegnula rukom u džep jakne od trapera koju je nosila u tom hladnom jutru i izvukla metalnu tabakeru i zippo koji je palcem držala priljubljenog za tabakeru. Polako mi je pružila tabakeru sa zipp-om. "Uzmi da me se sjetiš ponekad. Imaš tri travke unutra pa pazi. Ako prolaziš ovuda u povratku javi se ali ne očekuj puno. Moglo bi postati ozbiljno, a ja bih ti bila majka .." Uzeo sam poklon gledajući zbunjeno. Okrenula se i otišla bez riječi. Gurnuo sam tabakeru i Zippo u unutarnji džep jakne i zajahao motor. Nije mi se išlo ali bio sam svjestan da nema razloga ni logike ostati. Jednostavno to je bilo to. Petljao sam sa tri drukera na mojoj istočno njemačkoj kacigi pokušavajući pričvrstiti plastični vizir za cijelo lice. Kada mi je to pošlo za rukom navukao sam kacigu i startao MZ-a te bez puno "zagrijavanja" krenuo. Škot i Strela su me pratili. Petnaest minuta kasnije izbili smo na auto cestu za Frankfurt. Dodao sam gas pazeći pri tome da ne prelazim 90 km/s što je bila Strelina maksimalna putna brzina. Nisam želio razmišljati niti analizirati, a najmanje pričati sa bilo kim. Zato sam držao tempo i usredotočio se na cestu. Farnkfurt smo obišli auto cestom i produljili prema Dortmundu. Nakon toga je plan bio auto cestom preko Munstera i Bremena prema Hamburgu. Uglavnom pravac bez puno "oštrih" uspona koji su za naše konjske snage bili poražavajući. Vozili smo skoro dva sata kada je potreba za benzinom naložila skretanje na prvu crpku. Natankali smo benzu i prebacili se na parking. Strela je bez riječi otišao da automata za kavu na benzinskoj i donio tri papirne šalice sa tipičnom njemačkom filter kavom. Cigaretu sam zapalio Hildinim Zippo-om. Nastojao sam ne misliti puno, još mi je prošla noć bila svježa u glavi i ma koliko se trudio nisam je mogao zaboraviti. Jedini zaključak je bio da je "to žena za mene". Škot je izvadio kartu i zbrajao kilometre koji su nam preostali. Nejasno sam čuo njegov razgovor sa Strelom "da se radi oko još 450 km, pa nije siguran da li je to moguće danas, već je podne". Zaključio je da ako produljimo ovim tempom možemo računati u najboljem slučaju negdje oko 22 sata da smo u Hamburgu, a budući da nas čeka par prijelaza po lokalnim cestama i pauze za odmor. Pogledali su u mom pravcu. Slegao sam ramenima i polako otišao do košare za smeće i ubacio praznu šalicu od kave. Prišao sam motoru i bacio čik cigarete na zemlju te ga pažljivo zagasio vrhom čizme. Namignuo sam Škotu i skinuo plastični vizir sa kacige te ga ubacio u vojničku torbu na prtljažniku. Stavio sam naočale za sunce i navukao kacigu. Škot je slijedio moj primjer. Polako smo krenuli sa parkinga. Ritual sa kavom i benzinom smo ponovili još dva puta. Sada oko sedam sati poslije podne, mrtvi umorni smo sjedili nadomak Bremena u parku nekog malog mjesta čiji naziv nismo mogli ni skužiti niti izgovoriti. Jednostavno od devet ujutro do sada smo napravili samo par pauza i umor i kilometraža su uzimali svoje. Od oko devet sati puta više od sedam smo proveli u vožnji. Zbroj je bio preko 400 km. Čekalo nas je još nešto oko 150 ali nakon pauze nije nam se vozilo dalje. Sve to je bio dodatni razlog da se podigne prag razdražljivosti i počne "bockanje". Polako sam ustao sa klupe i podigao sendvič. Dva komada sterilnog kruha sa nešto nedefinirane salame. Pružih sendvič Streli. "Uzmi ja ne mogu jesti." Pogledao me oštro, a potom opalio rukom po ramenu. "Jedi Djoni čeka nas još koji kilometar. Treba ti snaga, a Hildu nabij na ku..$..c u mislima pa sve bude ok." Zvučalo je prijateljski i umirujuće. Nisam imao volje komentirati bilo što. Najlakše je bilo zagrizi sendvič i šuti. Žvakao sam polako. Škot me odmjerio i počeo oprezno. "Kupio sam karticu za telefon, a preko puta parka ti je govornica. Da nazoveš Gogu i javiš joj da stižemo kasno. Nije frka petak je pa vikend sigurno ne radi." Klimnuo sam glavom gutajući bezvoljno onaj sterilni sendvič. "Možeš je i ti nazvati. Imaš broj." Prije polaska sam im dao Gogin broj telefona, kao kontakt za slučaj da se netko odvoji ili izgubi odnosno "za rezervu". Minutu kasnije Škot se zaputio prema govornici. Ja sam ostatak sendviča pružio Streli i zapalio novu cigaretu. Strela me odmjerio prijateljskim pogledom potom odložio sendvič na klupu i pljesnuo rukama. "Daj Djoni matorih pičića ima po izboru bilo gdje. Sredi se malo u glavi, idemo do Goge, a tamo su mlade cure po mjeri za nas. Ne misliš valjda da se druži sa fosilima. Samo ništa ne pričaj Miri kada se vratimo." Blago me udario po ramenu. Klimnuh glavom i otpih ostatak cole. Imao je pravo, samo mi je trebalo vremena da posložim stvari. Bilo je ugodno imati prijatelje pored sebe u ovakvoj situaciji. Strela mi vratio ostatak sendviča nakon što je zagrizao komadić. "Pojedi to trebat će ti, od jutros smo samo na kavi." Škot se vratio zbunjena izraza lica. "Nitko se ne javlja, valjda je izašla nekamo ili nije vrag da ima problema." Ubacio sam ostatak sendviča u usta i posegao za Škotovom limenkom cole. Trebao mi je jedan gut da isperem onaj sterilni kruh. Pogledah Škota i odmahnuh glavom. "Jebi ga koji bi nam bio daljnji plan u tom slučaju?" Škot pogleda Strelu pa mene. "Vozimo dalje, a zovemo sa prve benzinske ponovo. Na kraju krajeva ima kampova oko Hamburga." Polako smo krenuli ka motorima. Strela je prije polaska pokupio naše limenke i bacio ih u košaricu sa smećem. Mali uredni park je djelovao umirujuće pri svijetlu zalazećeg sunca. Neka djeca su zagledala naše motore parkirane na ulazu u park. Nije mi se dalo ponovno stavljati plastični vizir, za cijelo lice, na ona tri drukera istočno njemačke kacige, očigledno predviđena da nešto pričvrste na tenk, pa samo nabacih naočale za sunce i polako navukoh kacigu. Kaciga mi je djelovala teško, nadao sam se da ću ovdje u centru "trulog kapitalizma" naći nešto lakše. Neku integralnu kacigu sa vizirom koji se podiže i spušta na nekoj rasprodaji. U jugi su takve kacige bile "pravo malo bogatstvo" kao roba iz uvoza. Ovdje je to trebalo biti jeftinije ako mi "uleti" prava rasprodaja. Prije polaska mahnuh Škotu. Polako je ubacio u prvu i prišao mom motoru. "Ako je frka sa Gogom zovemo Bosu i njen broj imate tako da je ona slijedeći kontakt. Prenesi Streli." Klimnuo je glavom dok sam ja drugi put startao MZ-a koji je u zadnjih 100 km pokazivao sujetu i svoju volju. Sve je izgledalo malo "bez veze" odnosno "krenulo je loše". Sat kasnije Škot je nezadovoljno pustio slušalicu i izvukao karticu iz slota telefonske govornice. Nas dvoje smo promatrali iz daljine njegov pokušaj da dobije Gogu. Strela me pogleda i slegnu ramenima. "Očigledno nije doma "pa da ga jebeš"." Klimnuh glavom promatrajući malu benzinsku na kojoj smo stali. Parking pored je bio ograničen na par mjesta, a kafić uz benzinsku je bio minijatura sa šankom. Noć je već zamijenila zalazeće sunce. Škot je prišao odmahujući glavom. "Ne javlja se. Da nazoveš Bosu?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Ona je nekih 70 – 100 km dalje od Hamburga nema pomoći, a i u zadnje godine smo razmijenili samo dva pisma, pustimo to za krajnju nuždu." Škot klimnu glavom potom je pokazao ka kafiću. "Idemo na pivu i pitati za kamp." Krenuli smo kao jedan. Izgledalo je kao grupa iscrpenih rudara. Sličilo je tome, prljavi neobrijani sa licima zaprljanim prašinom sa ceste i mirisom benzina dvotaktnih motora koji se širio oko nas. Konobarica za šankom je bila oličenje skladnog tijela i ljepote. Ništa na njoj nije bilo ni preveliko ni premalo. Odmjerila nas je jednim brzim pogledom bez interesa. Naručih tri male pive i u minuti su tri limenke 0,33 i tri čaše bile ispred nas. Bili smo jedini gosti. Natočili smo i nazdarvili jedan drugom tek toliko da razbijemo "loše vibracije". Otpih samo gutljaj. Pogledao sam konobaricu koja je glancala čašu i promatrala nas. Imala je lijepo lice, pravi pojam germanske ljepote svijetlog tena i plave kose. Sve su krasila dva krupna plava oka i prezrivi pogled. "Na putu smo i trebamo kamp za prenoćiti u pravcu Hamburg. Možete nam nešto preporučiti?" Pogledala me cinično. "Iz Bugarske ste?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Jugoslavija." Pogled se promijenio. Sada je djelovao više prijateljski. "Bila sam u Jugoslavija tamo oko Dubrovnika. Prekrasan grad i puno povijesnih spomenika." Odložila je čašu na šank i naslonila se rukama na isti. "Prvi kamp vam je još 70 km niz auto cestu. Skupo je i nema ništa posebno od ponude. Ima druga mogućnost." Namignula je. "Zatvaramo za sat vremena, iza kafea je nadstrešnica preko pregradnog zida. Vanjski WC vam pustim otvoren, tako da ako imate vreće možete prenoćiti na paletama za "kištre" pive. To vam je besplatno." Pogledah Škota i Strelu. Klimnuli su glavom. "OK hvala." Nasmijala se i okrenula prema fritezi za pomfrit. Ovdje je to bio neizostavni dio inventara skoro svakog kafića. Istresla je polupraznu vrećicu pomfrita u fritezu. Minutu kasnije se miris pečenog pomfrita raširio kafićem. Još smo pili pivu. Konobarica je izručila sadržaj friteze na veliki plitki tanjur dodala kechup i majonezu te stavila tanjur pred nas. "Na račun kuće. Moj dečko isto vozi motor." Sve je bilo začinjeno osmijehom. Pitao sam se što vozi njen dečko. Suzuki ili Kawasaki možda i Hondu. Za nas je to bilo nedostižno. Dok smo praznili tanjur konobarica se polako presvukla u prostoriji iza šanka. Sada je bila u uzanim trapericama majici i tenisicama. Zamjetih da je popravila make up i dodala ruža na usne. Stvarno je bila komad. Kada se začuo motor VW bube ispred kafića i dva kratka znaka sirenom, mahnula nam je rukom. Slijedili smo je i čekali dok je zaključala kafić i uključila alarm. Mahnula je prema mat crnom VW bubi, sa tamnim staklima i dosta kroma, koja je čekala na parkingu, potom nas pozvala rukom da je slijedimo. Bili smo iza kafića. Otključala je metalna vrata - rešetku koja su ograđivala prostor sa praznim bocama i vanjski WC. Pogledala nas je. "WC je desno kada krenete zatvorite vrata. Ugodna noć." Lagano je otrčala prema parkiranom autu. Pogledali smo se. Bilo je dovoljno. Iako nismo progovorili niti riječi svi smo mislili isto. "Još jedna ok osoba, nisu ljudi loši samo ih mi ponekada loše doživljavamo." Motore smo preparkirali da nam budu "na dohvat ruke". Izvadio sam posude od aluminija sa špiritnim kuhalom. Strela je složio par drvenih paleta u dio prostora koji je zidom bio odijeljen prema vani, potom izrezao nožem dvije veće kartonske kutije od pića i posložio ih na palete. Sve u svemu bila je dobra podloga za vreće, a zid i nadstrešnica su nas štitili od svake moguće kiše. Torbe smo naslagali do paleta, potpuno zaštićene od kiše. U toaletu sam nasuo vodu u alumijski zdjelu i stavio je na špiritno kuhalo. Sjedio sam na jednoj od tri plastične kištre za pivu koje smo izvukli "za sjedalice". Polako sam miješao juhu iz vrećice dok je Škot posložio vreće na palete i karton. Ovu noć smo riješili na "ugodan način". Polako sam presuo juhu od rajčice u aluminijske šalice i ugasio špiritno kuhalo poklopcem. Pili smo juhu ne pričajući ništa. Par minuta kasnije je počela sitna kiša. Trajala je kratko potom se razvedrilo. Izvadio sam metalnu tabakeru, poklon od Hilde, i izvadio jedan od tri joint-a koji su počivali unutra. Zapalio sam ZIPPO-om i povukao dubok dim. Potom sam joint dodao Streli. Joint je kružio do kraja bez riječi. Kada sam ugasio petom ostatak Strela je pokazao palcem preko leđa i otišao do paleta. Bez riječi se umotao u vreću. Već minutu kasnije smo ga čuli kako diše duboko i ravnomjerno. Škot je izvadio cigaretu iz kutije i zapalio. Bila je to njegova omiljena Drina bez filtera. Polako je povukao dim i pogledao me. "Znaš uvijek sam se pitao ti i Bosa, je tu bilo nešto. Mislim, slala ti je neke stvari iz njemačke a i poneko pismo koliko se sjećam, pa ne mislim da je to bilo samo radi Goge." Slegao sam ramenima bez volje za detaljnim objašnjenjem. "Bilo je ali samo jednu noć." Škot je klimnuo glavom. Potom je ugasio nedovršenu cigaretu petom i digao se sa kištre. "Idem u krpe, a ti si sretnik jure te i mlađe i znatno starije." Dok je odlazio prema paletama i kartonu za spavanje imao sam želju da ga "nabijem nogom u guzicu". Škot je bio "zakon" za sve žene. Sa tim plavim očima crnom kosom i višim rastom, vitak širokih ramena, uz to sve začinjeno ugodnim razgovorom dobro načitanog lika, bio je neodoljiv. Strela je jednostavno slijedio Škota i uzimao "što ostane". Ja sam bio u "drugom filmu" ali ni približno uspješan kao Škot. Škot je uvijek imao "stalnu curu" i ponešto "za skratiti noć". Ja sam ili imao vezu ili neke neobvezne sex pustolovine ali nikada tako sređen i opskrbljen curama kao Škot. Posegao sam u džep jakne i izvadio metalnu tabakeru. Izvukao sam još jedan Joint. Polako sam povukao dim promatrajući nebo preko ruba pregradnog zida. Rzvedrilo se i zvijezde su ponovno prekrile svod. Škotovo pitanje o Bosi je bilo okidač. Goga i Bosa Goga je bila u Njemačkoj. Primio sam dva pisma u kratkom razmaku. Prvo je bilo naslovljeno na moje ime ali uz to u zagradi "Vitezovi jedne dame". Već to u zagradi me smetalo. Nisam se osjećao vitezom, a još manje sam Gogu doživljavao kao damu. Doživljavao sam je kao običnu curu iz predgrađa isto kao što smo i mi bili samo likovi iz predgrađa. Sadržaj je bio pun zahvalnosti sa puno patetike i zahvale svakom ponaosob. Pisala je da je Bosa za početak smjestila kod sebe ali da joj je našla posao u kemijskoj tvornici, što je u Njemačkoj na cijeni, pa će uskoro imati "svoju gajbu" i čeka nas u posjet. Ono "vitezovi" je ponovila više puta. Pismo sam pročitao glasno pred Škotom i Strelom, dok smo sjedili u omladinskom "Kod Benija", bez komentara. Strela je samo slegao ramenima, a Škot odmahnuo rukom. "Stvarno je bila puknuta i sjebana. Nije ni čudo. Mi "vitezovi" smiješno. Samo smo uradili ono što smo smatrali da je ispravno." Strela je klimnuo glavom i započeo priču o Slađani i njezinim prijateljicama Irmi i Dadi. Normalno pismo i Goga su pali u zadnji plan. Ove cure su bile tu na dohvat, a mi napaljeni mulci uz to Strela je već provozao Slađanu na svom motoru i dogovorio druženje za tri para. Ostalo je još samo kupiti cugu i napraviti roštilj kada Škotovi "matorci" odu do vikendice pa naše zajedničke prostorije kod Škota u podrumu ostanu potpuno slobodne. Planiran je dobar provod sa roštiljem cugom glazbom i dosta seksa. Kasnije se sve realiziralo ali bez seksa. Drugo pismo je bilo naslovljeno na mene sa podvučenim imenom. Mislio sam da mi piše Bosa ali bilo je od Goge. Isto je bilo bez patetike i "vitezova". Pisala je da je kod Bose u stanu u Hamburgu, da Bosa ima "prijateljicu" koja je i više od toga. Prijateljica je par godina mlađa od Bose ali zgodna i visoka. Njih dvije imaju u planu zajednički kupiti neki stan, a to je u Njemačkoj dosta skupo. Goga ima u planu iznajmiti svoj stan i "biti svoja". Ostao sam zbunjen. Ono Bosa i prijateljica nije bilo pojašnjeno do kraja, a po mom iskustvu Bosa je bila sve prije nego lezbijka. Od Bose nisam dobio niti jedno pismo. Sve je ležalo u nekoj čudnoj izmaglici. Odlučih se na neodređeni odgovor bez pitanja ili objašnjenja. Jednostavno sam napisao Gogi da joj želim sreću u poslu i nalaženju stana te da pozdravi Bosu. Cijelu zimu i rano proljeće nije bilo nikakvog odgovora. Gogina mama je dva mjeseca nakon Goginog "nestanka" napustila Goginog oca. Ne znam što je znala i kako ali jedne nedjelje nakon mise u crkvi prišla mi je i uhvatila me za ruke. Rekla je samo "neka vas bog čuva" potom se okrenula i otišla bez riječi. Kada je napustila muža otišla je kod svog bratića u Suboticu. Taj je po pričama bio neki gadan lik u godinama i sa puno trauma još "iz partizana" gdje je sudjelovao kao dečko od 17 godina, a i bio je neki lik u CK Vojvodine. Kasnije je kružila ne potvrđena verzija "kada je Gogin Stanko navodno došao sa pištoljem po svoju ženu, da je dobio cijev od prastare "M48" u usta i više se nije usudio vratiti". Mnogi su to osporavali ali je meni sličilo na istinu. Uskoro je Gogin tata Stanko postao redoviti inventar kavane "Čakal" gdje je sa cugerima i sam zaljevao svoju tugu raspada obitelji "prouzročenog ženskim lažima i ćerkom kurvom". Dobar dio susjedstva ga je žalio. Oni oprezniji su ipak pazili što pričaju sa njim dok piju. Par naivnih je završilo na "šest mjeseci hlađenja". Mi smo čekali. Po nepisanom zakonu predgrađa "sve se imalo završiti do kraja". Mi smo poštivali zakon. Na starom HSR 48 receiveru je treštala glazba Cockney Rebel "Sebastian ". Sklopljena knjiga Richard Bach "Iluzije" mi je počivala na grudima, a znalačkim pogledom sam proučavao prljave noge u japankama. Izležavao sam se na kauču svoje sobe. Početak ljeta je bio dosadan. Jedina dobra stvar je bila što sam zaradio za novi cassette deck JVC. Razmišljao sam o boljem načinu izuzev "omladinske zadruge" za zarađivanje love. Ponovno nisam bio u vezi, odnosno zadnja veza mi je trajala par mjeseci i nekoliko desetina seksualnih kontakta. Jebalo me ono "slobodna veza". Stvar je palila ako ti nije stalo do cure ništa, odnosno "nula bodova". Ako ti je stalo nisi bio spreman na slobodnu vezu. Problem je bio što se meni i nije dizao na curu do koje mi nimalo nije stalo. Znači trebao sam curu koja ne želi slobodnu vezu i koja mi paše. To je išlo malo teže. Međutim mnoge cure u kraju su prešele 18 godina i smatrale se slobodnim i emancipiranim ženama. To je sve olakšavalo samo je trebalo imati volju za "stalnu akciju". Meni je i to počinjalo ići na živce. Škot i Strela nisu imali dvojbi. Strela je džentlmenski prihvaćao svaku vezu "koja je obećavala zabavu", a Škot je već postao majstor "uradi sam" odnosno imao je stalnu vezu i sve što uhvati sa strane. Ja sam bio u nekom drugom filmu i bio sam svjestan toga. Ostalo mi je solo vožnja i ribičija sa povremenim odlascima u popularna okupljališta. Ništa strašno. Pojačao sam malo basove na receiveru. Cockney Rebel mi je legao za ovo raspoloženje. Na kazeti su nakon istog slijedili grace jones i bronski beats. Sve u svemu jebalo mi se za ljeto i "ljetnje sheme". Mama je otvorila vrata sobe i dreknula iznervirano." "Telefon za tebe gospođa Haz te treba i smanji tu glazbu nisam ti ja tajnica." Vrata su se zalupila, a ja sam slijedeću sekundu bio na bravi. Nije mi bilo jasno tko je "gospođa Haz". Dok sam podizao slušalicu žarulja je proradila. Haz je bilo Bosino obiteljsko prezime. Gospođa Haz je ili Bosa ili ... "Da molim?" "Gospodin Zoran odnosno Bambi?" Sada sam bio totalno zbunjen ženskim staračkim glasom sa druge strane. "Da to sam osobno i po nadimku koji je van optjecaja." "Eee Ema ovdje, Bosina baka. Bosa je po prijateljici poslala nešto iz njemačke pa dođite danas ako možete da to uzmete. Bog vam pomogao doviđenja." Veza se prekinula. Žaruljice u glavi su počele plesati. Bosa je poslala nešto i to je u kući kod njene bake. Odlično možda je pismo u sadržaju tog nečega. Bilo bi krajnje vrijeme da se stvari počnu postavljati na svoje mjesto. Navratio sam u sobu po kacigu potom se bacio na motor. Dok sam startao čuo sam mamu kako vrišti. "Barem isključi tu glazbu, ja ne znam kako se to radi." Dodao sam gas i krenuo prema kući Bosine bake. Mama će po običaju izvući utičnicu od produžnog kabela iz zida i tako prekinuti sve hifi uređaje. Na ulaznim vratima je bio parkiran crveni opel kadett coupe njemačkih registracija. Ubacio sam motor iza auta i pozvonio na vrata. Potrajalo je malo dok je starački glas iza upitao:" "Tko jee?" Odverglah brzo ime nadimak i skoro sve osobne podatke. Na sreću suzdržao sam se nakon nadimka. Bosina baka je otvorila vrata. "Ooo pa to je Bambi. Uđi sine uđi." Ušao sam bez oklijevanja i pridružio se gospođi Haz i njemici nedefiniranih srednjih godina u dnevnom boravku. Šalica sa kavom se našla ispred mene, a ona njemica me samo stručno odmjerila. Nakon pola šalice kave i par rečenica je bilo jasno da njemica, po imenu Silvia, ide negdje u Bugarsku na ljetovanje, da dolazi iz Hamburga i da Jadransku obalu poznaje odlično. Mahnula je rukom da čekamo i nestala u sobi iza dnevnog boravka. Sobi u kojoj sam proveo noć tijekom zadnjeg posjeta ovoj kući. Bosina baka me pogledala nekim toplim pogledom. "Bambi Bosa kaže da si dobar dečko i da si spreman svima pomoći. Vjerojatno zato ti je poslala neku sitnicu. Ostali ovdje u predgrađu Zemuna su po nekim "svojim zakonima". Bože prije rata su u Franstalu bili uglavnom gospoda, a danas je tu svega." Pomislih da je dobro što je napola gluha inače ne znam kako bi provarila moj zadnji boravak u ovoj kući. Možda je bolje što ne čuje dobro i živi u nekim prošlim vremenima. Silvia se vratila sa manjom kartonskom kutijom i uručila mi je. Kutija je bila teža. Zapalio sam još jednu cigaretu i razmjenio par riječi "tarzan deutche" sa gospođama potom se ispričao i napustio društvo. Dok me gospođa Haz pratila ona njemica je gledala za nama ispitivački. Vani sam se jedva suzdržao da ne otvorim i raskopam kutiju tražeći neko pismo. Polako sam prišao MZ-u i stavio kutiju na prtljažnik potom izvadio gumene natezače iz torbice ispod prtljažnika i učvrstio je. Čekao sam da doma budem na samo. Petnaest minuta kasnije sam otvorio kutiju. Sadržavala je kožnu jaknu "Serpico", kaubojske kožne čizme "Serpico" i naočale za sunce iste marke. U jugi je to vrijedilo čitavo malo bogatstvo. Bio sam razočaran. Niti kutija niti džepovi jakne nisu sadržavali nikakvo pismo. Ponovno sam uštekao produžni kabel u utičnicu i počekao da krene glazba "Cockney Rebel ". Otišao sam do ormara sa LP pločama i iza ploča izvadio bocu rakije i čašu. Natočio sam čašu do pola pa vratio bocu na mjesto. Zapalio sam cigaretu i pojačao glazbu. Znao sam da će moji popizditi na prejaku glazbu ali mi je to trebalo. Polako sam otpio gutljaj pa povukao dubok dim cigarete. Jaknu sam isprobao i bacio na kauč. Pristajala mi je odlično. Nakon desetak minuta i dvije pjesme kada su počeli Bronski Beats svojim "Tell mi why?" odlučih probati čizme. Po broju su djelovale ok. Navukoh lijevu i pasala je sto posto. Posegnuh za desnom počeh je navlačiti. Neki papir je bio u čizmi, vjerojatno od originalnog pakiranja. Polako prstima pretražih čizmu i izvukoh pismo. Bilo je na moje ime, podvučeno. Par minuta sam okretao pismo među prstima dok nisam dovršio čašu sa rakijom. Polako sam otvorio kuvertu i izvukao papir. Legao sam na krevet i počeo čitati. Pismo je bilo kratko. Pročitao sam ga dva puta potom ustao i otišao po novu čašu rakije. Otpio sam gutljaj pokušavajući izvući neki zaključak iz tih par rečenica. Bosa je pisala da je ok i da me se uvijek rado sjeti kao i da će me se uvijek i sjećati. Nadalje je naznačila da mi šalje mali poklon samo zato što misli da će mi dobro pristajati. Kraj pisma je naznačio da je čula cijelu priču o Goginom odlasku od Goge i da je malo takvih ljudi koji su spremni pomoći kao što je naša ekipa to uradila. Kraj je završavala rečenica "Rado bih te uvijek vidjela kada je to moguće." Otpio sam još gutljaj "žestice" i zapalio novu cigaretu. Pismo je bilo "ni za glavu ni za rep" kao da mi piše prijateljica iz školskih dana o zajedničkoj ekskurziji, a sve je sličilo na onu bocu pića koja se po nekome pošalje poznaniku iz kurtoazije. Ostao sam doma i preskočio ručak. To što sam preskočio ručak moje nije začudilo ni malo, više ih je zabrinulo što te večeri nisam najavio da "idem vani". Mama me čudno odmjerila i pitala da li mi je dobro. Otpilio sam je bezvoljno nekim obrazloženjem "da želim pročitati do kraja knjigu". Pola sata kasnije me ponovno pozvala na telefon. Strela se javio dobre volje i pun energije. Pitao je da li može doći do mene. Odgovorih samo: "Normalno dođi." Petnaest minuta kasnije začuo sam zvuk motora u dvorištu. Otvorio sam ulazna vrata i propustio Strelu u hodnik. Mahnuo sam glavom ka mojoj sobi što je bio znak da se ne mora javljati mojima u dnevnoj sobi. Ušli smo u sobu i zatvorih vrata. Strela je bacio jaknu na jedan kraj kauča i položio kacigu na nju. Otvorio je ruksak i izvukao dvije boce piva i knjigu. Pivo je položio na moj radni stol a knjigu bacio na kauč. "Ovo moraš pročitati." Polako sam prišao i pogledao korice sa nacrtanom cestom potom pročitah autora i naslov. Jack Kerouac, "Na cesti". Podigao sam knjigu i polako je odložio na ormarić pored ležaja potom pokupio svoja dva jastuka i bacio ih jedan do drugoga prema zidu. Strela je već otvorio pivo i prišao mi pružajući bocu. Legli smo poprijeko na ležaj i naslonili se na jastuke. Iz zvučnika je dopirala glazba Azra "Fafala si mi ti". Kucnuli smo se bocama i otpili. Strela je bio nabrifan. "Knjiga je zakon, moraš to pročitati. E a znaš onu malu Svetlanu iz Galenike sinoć sam ..." Podigao se u sjedeći položaj i pogledao ispod radnog stola gdje sam odložio one čizme iz paketa. Polako je ustao i slobodnom rukom podigao jednu. Pažljivo je zagledao i otpio gutljaj pive. "Koga si to upucao na cesti i pokupio mu serpikose?" "Proveo sam noć u ćeliji zajedno sa jednim koga su trebali ujutro objesiti pa mi pustio svoje čizme i ključeve od motora. Samo su ga objesili prije nego sam ga stigao pitati koji je motor i koja registracija tako da sada pokušavam sve motore redom startati sa ovim ključem koji sam dobio." Izvadio sam iz džepa starinski željezni ključ od dvorišnih metalnih vrata i podigao ga u zrak. Nasmijao se odmahujući glavom. "Ako ne želiš reći nema frke što se mene tiče mogao si ih skinuti i sa mrtvih stopala." Bacio je čizmu nazad pod stol. "Bosa mi poslala po prijateljici iz njemačke." "Kojim povodom? Čula od drugih lažne priče da imaš 25 cm ali jezika pa da ti se uvuče prije slijedećeg posjeta rodnom kraju?" Bacio se nazad na ležaj i naslonio na jastuk. Nije mi se dalo ništa posebno objašnjavati, a nisam ga želio povrijediti. Ispalih prvu laž koja mi je zvučala logično. "Kada je Goga bježala za njemačku dao sam joj sto maraka da joj se nađe za po putu, sama je bila suha. Sada izgleda to Bosa vraća dug pa mi poslala čizme, jaknu i naočale serpikose." "Uvijek sam tvrdio da ti u ekipi imaš najveći smisao za posao i lovu. Vadi jaknu i stakla da vidim, a poslije ti kažem nešto poslovno što sam čuo." Dok je isprobavao jaknu ispričao mi je da po firmi gdje je radio preko omladinske neki lik dila salame i sireve te ukrase iz Rumunjske i Mađarske. Tete iz firme kupuju to ko lude, jeftinije nego kod nas, a kvaliteta dobra. Skinuo je jaknu i vrati je u ormar. "Posudiš mi je ponekad da zblesavim komade koje kontam?" "Narafski." Bio sam zadovoljan što me nije dalje ništa pitao. Petnaest minuta kasnije sam ušao u dnevni boravak i obavijestio moje da "idem malo van pa kad dođem". Mama me pogledala sa olakšanjem u stilu "ipak nije bolestan". Po običaju večer smo završili u obilasku dva lokalna kafića. Ja sam nosio nove čizme, a Strela moju jaknu samo je malo zavrnuo rukave. Život je krenuo dalje. Par dana kasnije sam pakirao opremu za ribolov u ruksak. Planirao sam krenuti slijedećeg jutra sa svitanjem do Starog Slankamena u ribolov i malo kupanja, a potom na povratku obići jedan kafić u kome se znala iskupiti zanimljiva ekipa. Škot se sa novom curom odvezao u neki motel prema jugu, a Strela se patio sa prijateljicom Škotove cure koja "malo bi, malo ne bi". Tako sam ostao na kratko sam. Zazvonio je telefon u hodniku i nevoljko sam podigao slušalicu nadajući se da nije neka mamina rođakinja sa detaljnim ispitivanjem kako sam i imam li curu. "Da molim." "Halo Bambi." Stresao sam se na Bosin mekani malo dublji glas. "Hei Bosa, kako si?" "Dobro, baka mi javila da ti je Silvija uručila paket. Nisam željela u pismu pisati ništa posebno kako ga možda neki radoznali carinik ne bi otvarao i čitao. Zato te sada zovem." Udahnuo sam dublje. "Već sam mislio da si me u totalu otpilila i da je poklon "za ugodno sjećanje"." "Ne budali Bambi. Ti si za mene nešto posebno, samo moraš ostati svoj i naći svoj život i svoj put. Ja svoj imam, a plašim se, ako te puno zivkam vezujem te za sebe i napustit ćeš svoju cestu kako bi pokušao voziti mojom. To nije ni moguće niti bi bilo dobro za tebe. Razvijaj se dalje kako si počeo slijedeći samo svoje ideje i misli." "Bosa imaš nekog lika u Njemačkoj? I "by the way" ne zovu me više Bambi nego Djoni." "Bambi ili Đoni ne budali. Uvijek si dobro došao kod mene u njemačkoj, a tada možemo detaljnije razgovarati. Uskoro mijenjam stan i imat ću novi broj telefona, pošaljem ti ga pa se čujemo pnekad ovako je nezgodno radi tvojih da te često zovem. Sada idi vani i nađi neku curu svojih godina i pokaži joj da si ono što si prema meni pokazao." Veza se prekinula. Stajao sam još minutu sa slušalicom u ruci. Polako sam spustio slušalicu i odlučio da je više nikada ne pitam ništa ako se ponovo javi. Hamburg Promatrao sam vlažne traperice do pola uprljane masnim blatom. Počivale su na vlažnoj klupi neke benzinske na domaku Hamburga. Sve je krenulo loše od jutra. Bilo je oblačno pa smo torbe na prtljagi zaštitili zelenkastim plastičnim vrećama od umjetnog gnojiva. One tanke kišne hlače za vrt nismo navlačili. Nadali smo se da se sklonimo prije početka kiše. Uskoro smo stali radi mog motora koji je radio čudno, preskačući ritam. Kada sam skinuo svjećicu bila je zaprljana uljem. Škot me samo pogledao. "Mogao bi malo paziti kako dodaješ dvotaktol u benzin. Očigledno ga sipaš kao da sebi točiš alkohol u čašu." Nisam odgovorio ništa, a Strela je namignuo iza njegovih leđa povlačeći prstom preko vrata sa upitnim pogledom. Odmahnuo sam glavom dok sam čistio svjećicu. "Pusti ga neka još malo živi, tako će nasrati veću gomilu." Nakon slijedećih petnaest minuta počeo je pljusak. Bili samo na auto cesti i nismo stajali. Pljusak je bio kratak i nije probio jakne od umjetne kože ali su nam traperice bile vlažne i čizme pune vode. Pri skretanju na prvu slijedeću benzinsku meni je pošlo za rukom pronaći vjerojatno jedinu lokvu masne vode i blata na 200 kilometara okolnih uređenih njemačkih parkinga. U WC-u smo se presvukli u rezervne traperice i suhe čarape, a Škot i Strela su svoje vlažne traperice umotali u najlon vrećice i spremili u prtljagu. Ja sam još razmišljao što uraditi sa svojima. Na kraju sam slegao ramenima i polako ih sa dva prsta ubacio u kantu za smeće. Kupiću nove na nekoj rasprodaji ove su ionako bile stare. Škot mi je pružio telefonsku karticu koja je za nas u to vrijeme bila "čudo tehnike", i u njemačkoj je još više od pola govornica bilo na kovanice. Namignuo mi je pokazujući ka zidu benzinske sa dvije telefonske govornice. "Zovi ti, možda budeš imao više sreće. Po zadnjem putokazu imamo malo više od dvadeset kilometara." Polako sam prišao telefonskoj govornici i opsovao. Ova je bila na kovanice. Preturao sam po džepu i izvukao dvije kovanice po jednu marku. Otipkao sam broj i čekao. Na prva tri signala se nije javio nitko potom sam čuo Gogin glas. "Halo goga Đoni je." "Baaambiiiiiiiiii je ste stigli?" Djelovala je uzbuđeno. "Na dvadeset kilometara do Hamburga dolazimo auto cestom od Bremena." "Suupeeer. Slušaj na samom početku grada na auto cesti imate veliku benzinsku sa "Faaaast Fooood" i tamo sam za pola sata na kraju parkinga bijeli BMW 315." Veza se prekinula. Sve je bilo u najboljem redu. Vratio sam se do Škota i Strele sa podignutim palcem. "Za pola sata ili tako nešto je na benzinskoj na ulazu u grad. Tražimo bijeli BMW 315 na kraju parkinga." Škot se nasmiješio i klimnuo glavom, Strela je pokazao glavom ka kafiću na benzinskoj. "Imamo vremena za jednu kavu tamo smo za petnaest minuta." Klimnuo sam glavom i krenuo ka kafiću. Konobar je bio ljubazan i napravio je dobre kave. Kupio sam kutiju cigareta iz automata. Ovdje su cigarete bile pakleno skupe i računali smo na zalihu duhana i Jugo cigareta u prtljagi. Ipak sam odahnuo i poželio to proslaviti kutijom francuskih "Gitanes". Ponudio sam cigarete. Strela je samo povukao dim i zakolutao očima. Škot se nakašljao i komentirao. "Od ovoga bi i krava pobacila." Dok smo kretali ka motorima zamijetio sam nešto čudno. Nismo ništa jeli od sinoć ali Strela nije tražio "jutarnju dozu" hrane. Očigledno je i njega pucalo što smo ipak na kraju puta. Pola sata kasnije smo pronašli benzinsku. Dok smo ulazili na parking zamijetio sam na kraju parkinga bijeli BMW 315. Parking je bio poluprazan, a BMW okrenut zadnjim dijelom prema nama. Pomislih da pri prvom susretu prilazimo "s guza". Dok sam vozio ka autu zamijetio sam otvorena vozačka vrata i nogu u čipkastoj čarapi i crnoj sandali visoke potpetice. Prišli smo na par metara do auta i zaustavili motore. Polako sam skidao kacigu sjedeći na motoru. Iz auta se pojavila druga noga pored prve i dojam čipke i sandala visoke potpetice je bio veličanstven. Potom se pojavila cura u kožnoj minici uzanoj čipkastoj bluzi i kožnom prsluku. Pomislih da smo pogriješili ova je bila sa dobrim make up-om dobrim ružem neobično plave kose i luđački zgodna dok se njihala na onim potpeticama prema nama. Nisam vjerovao da je to Goga. Ciknula je i potrčala prema meni. "Baambiiii!" Zagrlila me sa obije ruke dok sam još držao kacigu u rukama povukla prema sebi i počela ljubiti u obraz. Osjetio sam miris parfema ali neki posebni seksi miris. Pustila me i odmaknula se jedan korak skupila noge i malo savila koljena. Pljesnula je rukama. "Ne mogu vjerovati da ste stigli. Bambi vi ste ovdje!" Zamijetih da na lijevoj ruci na nadlaktici ima tetovažu. Kineski zmaj ili tako nešto. Dobro joj je pristajala. U to doba u Jugi se, u većini okruženja, cura sa tetovažom smatrala propalitetom odnosno skoro pa prostitutkom. Ovdje je to bilo drukčije. Još pri dolasku sam zamijetio više tetovaža na zgodnim ili manje zgodnim curama. Polako sam spustio nožicu i sišao sa motora. Od kada sam dodao dorađenu bočnu parkirnu nožicu na MZ-a vježbao sam taj silazak. Da djeluje nešto hladno u stilu "faca sam i na način kako silazim". Ovaj put sam djelovao sam sebi nespretan. Kacigu sam objesio na upravljač i polako se okrenuo prema Gogi. Ponovno mi se bacila u zagrljaj i udjelila mi par "pusa" svugdje po licu. Potom je otrčala do Strele i Škota i dala im po pusu u usta. Vratila se prema meni i uhvatila me za ruke potežući ih prema sebi. "Idemo ili prvo popijete kavu u Mc?" Odmahnuh glavom. Na sebi sam osjećao miris znoja, ceste i benzina. "Kavu smo popili na prošloj benzinskoj. Idemo i ako je moguće tuširamo se u tvom stanu." Poskočila je na mjestu. Potom okrećući se mahnula rukom. "Možemo i rasturiti moj stan ako vam paše. Vozim polako slijedite me." Zajahao sam i uzeo kacigu u ruke, pogledah prema Škotu i Streli. Strela mi je samo uputio topli pogled u stilu "to majstore" i navukao kacigu. Škot je uputio neki čudni osmijeh. "Casanova obriši ruž sa sebe. Imaš ga po cijelom licu." Slegao sam ramenima i navukao kacigu. Sve nedaće i Hilda su nestali iz moje glave. Tada još nisam znao da povratni pravac vozim sam. MZ je startao besprijekorno. Polako smo krenuli. Gogin BMW naprijed, ja sam je polako slijedio, a Škot i Strela su vozili paralelno iza mene. *********** Kraj prvog dijela "Jahači u magli" *************** OK OV JE KRAJ PRVOG DIJELA OD UKUPNO 3 SVI KOMENTARI ČITATELJA SU DOBRO DOŠLI :thumbleft: :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: Damir Boris hvala na komentarima, sudeći po broju pregleda prati još oko 20 - 30 osoba, a mrzovoljnih da napišu koju riječ :udrri: super štivo za na more Daj Đoni ne kakinjaj! Ili hoćeš da ti damo pismenu pohvalu?! Ljudi čitaju i niko nije jednu lošu riječ uputio. To samo znači da je pun pogodak. Ja kad vidim da je novi nastavak ne stajem sa čitanjem bez obzira što se oko mene događa. Šibaj dalje i dobil buš Coctu.. piće naše mladosti! Sent from my Mobikita! Daj Đoni ne kakinjaj! Ili hoćeš da ti damo pismenu pohvalu?! Ljudi čitaju i niko nije jednu lošu riječ uputio. To samo znači da je pun pogodak. Ja kad vidim da je novi nastavak ne stajem sa čitanjem bez obzira što se oko mene događa. Šibaj dalje i dobil buš Coctu.. piće naše mladosti! Sent from my Mobikita! Dado kritika bi dobro došla :smoke: bez kritike nema kvalitete (normalne kritike), a Coctu još uvijek rado pijem. Valjda to ide sa godinama što je dulje piješ to ti više paše :D e jbga Đoni, toliko je dobro da sam požurio na hr motori da pročitam sve, ali.... i tamo si kratak :D kod nas ovi klinci za dobru :uupss: kažu da je prepicka :evil:, tako je i ovo predobro :aplauz: sorry na vulgarnosti ali original je samo jedan :ruke: e jbga Đoni, toliko je dobro da sam požurio na hr motori da pročitam sve, ali.... i tamo si kratak :D kod nas ovi klinci za dobru :uupss: kažu da je prepicka :evil:, tako je i ovo predobro :aplauz: sorry na vulgarnosti ali original je samo jedan :ruke: Gastro hvala ali nemoguće je da post ima cca 600 pregleda, a samo 4 odgovora budući da 600 dijelim sa 10 pa dobijem 60 koji možda prate ovo. Ne trebaju pohvale ali bilo koji komentar je dobro došao - pišem budući da želim nešto ispričati, a kratak sam budući da je bilo nekih pregovora za papir ali meni neprihvatljivih uvjeta pa uskoro ide dalje :smoke: :kokice: :kokice: :kokice: Svaka cast majstore od toliko sunda sam skoro prestao citati, ovo je kurbla za dalje citanje svih tvojih i drugih romana ovog pravca. Bravo i samo nastavi :ruke: :occasion: Kad ide drugi dio :D ovo sve bolje i bolje postaje :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: :occasion: Kad ide drugi dio :D ovo sve bolje i bolje postaje :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: :occasion: Računam da tu pivu i platiš - odnosno dvije za mene i ženu moju ( :smoke: :glasses: ) ide čim budem na GO. ko to pije samo jednu pivu :D :angel: samo vi doletite, lako ćemo rješit sve ostalo :ruke: a onda želim autogram haha :belj: ko to pije samo jednu pivu :D :angel: samo vi doletite, lako ćemo rješit sve ostalo :ruke: a onda želim autogram haha :belj: Pazi se kroz Šibenik sigure prolazimo na putu za Albaniju negdje oko 15.08. pa našli još koga za vožnju ili vozim sam ... (ne bi bilo prvi put) :smoke: Moram priznat da sam 5 x skrolao i nikad karaja pa sam samo stisnuo odgovori :) neide meni to citanje ja volim opipljivo brate mili ... Slegao sam ramenima i navukao kacigu. Sve nedaće i Hilda su nestali iz moje glave. Tada još nisam znao da povratni pravac vozim sam. MZ je startao besprijekorno. Polako smo krenuli. Gogin BMW naprijed, ja sam je polako slijedio, a Škot i Strela su vozili paralelno iza mene. *********** Kraj prvog dijela "Jahači u magli" *************** "Cestom privida i stvarnosti" **************** Buđenje je bilo sa glavoboljom. Prethodnu večer smo žena i ja proveli kod zajedničkih prijatelja na roštilju. Ivan je bio moj kolega sa posla. Ivanova žena je radila sjajne delicije od povrća, a Ivan odličan roštilj. Samo sam malo više popio "domaćeg crnog". Polako sam se odvukao do kupaone i istuširao skoro hladnom vodom. Potom sam se obrijao i navukao kućni ogrtač. Dok sam stavljao kavu u "kogumicu" bilo mi je jasno. Ne mogu tek tako pustiti ovu šansu. Moram znati da li je ono u Opatiji bila Goga. Na kraju svih krajeva neki od tih događaja su odredili moj kasniji život na cesti. Šalicu kave sam popio skoro "na eks" potom sam natočio kavu u visoku šalicu dodao malo mlijeka i stavio je na pladanj. Dodao sam i čašu soka od naranče i dva prepečenca iz tostera. Mirisalo je dobro. Ubacih par žlica marmelade od marelica na tanjurić potom ga položih na pladanj. Zaputio sam se u spavaću sobu. Lidija je još bila u polu snu. Poljubih je nježno i položih pladanj do nje na ležaj. "Kava za dobro jutro." Nasmiješila se sanjivo me gledajući. "Kojim povodom sinoć si bez razloga bio loše volje?" "Da se iskupim." Pridigla se malo i poljubila me. "Donesi mi pepeljaru, molim te." Minutu kasnije sam spustio pepeljaru na noćni ormarić. Pogladio sam je po kosi i nasmiješio se. "Idem do Opatije na kavu." Mrzovoljno me pogledala. "Ponovo oni tvoji Janjevci." "Nisu moji, ja sam "Lala" to si zaboravila ali su OK dečki i paše mi popiti kavu sa njima." Mahnula je rukom u stilu "nestani". Dok sam kretao prema vratima spavaće sobe Cmoky, naš bijeli mačak i nepopravljivi "uvlakač", se pažljivo prebacio sa fotelje na krevet umiljato predući prema Lidiji. Pogledao sam ga, a on mi je vratio neki umilni pogled sa proračunatom mačjom lukavštinom u pozadini. Dok sam izlazio iz sobe dobacih preko ramena. "Koliko je ovaj tvoj mačak "čmaronja" sigurno će osvojiti "zlatni čmar godine"." Jedan prepečenac je doletio i razbio se o dovratak. Cmoky je već bio iznad ostataka radi provjere "za svaki slučaj možda je to nešto što ja volim". Petnaest minuta kasnije startao sam svoj prastari Kawasaki EN 500. Bio je malo prenizak za mene ali za izlete i vožnje do plaže je služio dobro. Krećući ka obilaznici prema Opatiji mislio sam samo jedno: "Mirjana najvjerojatnije zna tko je ona žena na terasi. Mirjana je "stari mačak" u ugostiteljskim vodama i svoje mušterije vrlo dobro poznaje, a onu ženu je pozdravila dosta prisno." Hamburg Preturao sam po čistim čarapama i odabrao par sivih sportskih. Osjetio sam da je nešto skriveno u dvostruko presavijenim čarapama. Sjetih se da je to vrećica duhana. Polako sam izvadio vrećicu sa duhanom i odnio je do zajedničke veće najlon vrećice u kutu sobe. U velikoj najlon vrećici su počivale kutije cigareta i vrećice duhana. Prije polaska na put smo se raspitali i doznali da je kutija cigareta u njemačkoj oko četiri marke pa smo nakupovali cigarete i švercani hercegovački duhan te to "strateški rasporedili" po onih par majica i donjeg roblja koje smo nosili "kako bi zahebali carinu". Odmjerio sam sadržaj vrećice i zaključio da "će izdržati najveći dio boravka". Polako sam navukao čarape i vratio se u dnevni boravak Goginog stana. Na kožnom trosjedu je ležao Strela. Škot je upravo tražio neku radio postaju na "Sony" HiFi uređajima u staklenom ormariću. Strela je podigao pogled prema meni i nasmiješio se, očigledno je obilan doručak podigao njegovo raspoloženje na "viši nivo". "Kamo gibamo danas? Može onaj sastanak sa prijateljima mojih matoraca kako bih to odradio i bio miran." Dan prije smo se svi javili telefonom doma u stilu "da smo živi i zdravi i čujemo se za par dana". Strelina mama je Streli objasnila da je "tata nazvao poslovnog poznanika iz njemačke, koji živi u Hamburgu, pa da navrati i javi se, ovaj će mu sve pomoći što treba, a naročito "da se jadno dijete u tuđini snađe". Nismo to komentirali ali bilo nam je jasno ako ne želimo "uzbunu uspaničene mamice" da se moramo javiti na taj broj telefona i popričati sa nekim nijemcem na nekom piću kavi ili što već. Škot se polako podigao od onog HiFi i pogledao nas. Meni je uputio neki čudan pogled potom se nasmiješio u svom starom stilu i posegnuo rukom u džep. "Danas idemo autom. Goga nam je pustila svoj BMW prije nego je otišla sa frendicom na posao. Voze naizmjenično svaki tjedan druga. Sada je red na frendici pa je auto nama na raspolaganju." Pogledao sam u ponosno podignute ključeve i suzdržao se od komentara. Žalac ljubomore je proradio i pokušavao sam ga sakriti što dublje u sebi, zakopati negdje i zaboraviti. Škot je bio moj prijatelj i na kraju on je jutros ustao rano skuhao kavu i spremio doručak za sve, nije ni čudo što je Goga pustila njemu ključeve još prije nego smo mi "izvukli zadnjice iz krpa". Sa druge strane sličilo je na nastavak mog "lošeg početka". Dok smo vozili prema Hamburgu nisam pomišljao na Gogu kao seksualni objekt. Jednostavno bila mi je prijateljica koju će mi biti drago vidjeti. Nakon susreta na parkingu gledao sam je drugim očima. Prvi dojam je bio "obara sa nogu". Duge noge u čipkastim čarapama, platforma sandale na visoku potpeticu, kožna minica i prsluk uz tetovažu na goloj nadlaktici i čipkastu bluzu bez rukava, fantazija. Dok smo vozili ka Goginom stanu pojavila mi se jaka želja da osjeća "nešto više" prema meni od običnog prijateljstva. Stan je bio specifično uređen sa kožnom garniturom, hifi uređajima, tv-om i videorekorderom u dnevnom boravku. Na zidovima su se smjenjivali posteri i uljane slike, pejzaži i aktovi. Smjestila nas je svu trojicu u jednu od dvije spavaće sobe, Škot i Strela su odabrali bračni ležaj a ja madrac na podu. Nakon tuširanja i presvlačenja dočekao nas je stol prepun raznih delicija te bokal filter kave i boca viskija, na stolu u blagavaoni. Ostatak dana smo proveli u razgovoru smijehu potezanju iz boce koja je ubrzo ostala prazna pa smo otvorili novu. Zajednički smo spremali paštu i tri različite vrste umaka uz istu. Sve je bilo razdragano i ispunjeno smijehom i zabavom. Goga je skinula sandale i kožni prsluk pa je ostala samo u kožnoj minici i crnim čipkastim čarapama i bluzi ispod koje se nazirao crni grudnjak. Bila je stvarno oličenje seksualnosti, a onaj potišteni izgled i praznina u očima su nestali. Izgledala je kao da udiše život "punim plućima i bez ikakvih opterećenja". Nije niti bilo razloga da bude drugačije. Goga je živjela u iznajmljenom "gradskom stanu" sa garažom. Najamnina gradskih stanova je bila niska, a plaća voditelja grupe u tvornici poliakrila visoka, pa je računica bila jasna. Bilo mi je drago što joj je život krenuo dobro. Mi smo već osjećali tugu pada standarda u Jugoslaviji i pitao sam se da li nisam pogriješio oko "odlaska u inozemstvo". Goga se sjajno zabavljala. Smijala se non stop na svaku i najgluplju foru. Smjestio sam se u fotelji naspram velikog tv- a, a Goga je ubacila video kazetu sa koncerta "Guns and roses" te zvuk prebacila na hifi. Bili smo u "svom elementu". Goga mi je u jednom trenutku sjela u krilo i uhvatila me sa obije ruke za kosu okrečući mi glavu lijevo i desno. "Hei tako mi je drago da ste kod mene luđaci jedni." Glas joj je zvučao iskreno. Polako sam joj spustio ruku sa vanjske strane na nad koljenice na tu prekrasnu čipku i pustio je da me poteže za uši i čupa za kosu. Bio sam u transu. Minutu kasnije je ustala i dala puse u obraz Škotu i Streli potom odskakutala do kuhinje da donese još leda i "vatrene vode". Kako je večer odmicala histerija se smirila. Razgovor je postao tiši i više usmjeren ka tome "kako je u jugi i jesu konačno ukinuli bonove za benzin" (ukinuti znatno prije ali očigledno nije znala) i "koji dio jadrana treba obvezno vidjeti". Bio sam ponosan iz priče je bilo jasno da je znala za naše dvo mjesečno putovanje od Zemuna preko Bosne do Pule pa preko cijele Jadranske magistrale do Ulcinja te preko Crne Gore natrag za Zemun. "Od kuda znaš za to?" Pitao sam stvarno iz radoznalosti. Pogledala me nekim vragolastim pogledom. "Bosa mi ispričala." Klimnuo sam glavom bez komentara. Već sam zamijetio nešto što nisam htio sebi priznati. Goga je Strelu gledala pogledom "starije sestre" što ovome nije smetalo već je nastojao biti samo ljubazan i ugodan. Prema meni je iskazivala nešto čudno i nedefinirano između poštivanja i divljenja. Škota je više puta pogledala ispod oka onim pogledom "zainteresirane žene". Prije polaska na spavanje joj položih ruku na rame ali mi je samo uvalila brzu pusu u usta i nestala u svojoj spavaćoj sobi. Dok sam slagao one njemačke deke na madrac na podu pogledao sam Škota i Strelu na bračnom ležaju. Strela se već stručno umotao u deke i ležao zatvorenih očiju ali Škot mi je uzvratio pogled čudan i turoban. Do jutra sam sve zaboravio. Nedjelju prije podne smo obilazili i razgledali Hamburg odnosno samo "par osnovnih točki" kako se Goga izrazila. Prije polaska smo sa Goginog telefona obavili minimalne razgovore sa "onima doma". Tako je Strela dobio "domaću zadaću". Strela je pitao Gogu "da li može obaviti još jedan razgovor" na što je ova začuđeno klimnula glavom i prokomentirala. "Bez ograničenja zovite koga hoćete i koliko hoćete." Potom je odnijela kavu i poslužavnik sa kolačima u dnevni boravak, gdje smo se nakon doručka smjestili. Bila je puna energije i dok smo pili kavu ispitivala je Škota o našem "dugom putu" po jadranu. Škot je nastojao biti maksimalno šarmantan ali ništa više. Pričao je dogodovštine dodajući humor i cinične komentare. Goga je gledala ispod oka u njegovom pravcu i smijala se povremeno samo ubacujući "ma daj". Prvi put sam ugušio žalac ljubomore pojašnjavajući samome sebi "da moj ego nije iznad realne situacije". Strela je upao u sobu i pogledao Škota. "Pričao sam sa Mirom ona je super i želi nam ugodan provod ali kaže da bi se ti trebao javiti Ljilji navodno nisi od kada smo pošli." Škot ga je oštro pogledao i produljio razgovor sa Gogom. Goga je na sebi imala kratke hlaće majicu bez rukava i natikače. Na listu lijeve noge je imala drugu tetovažu u kineskom stilu. Sjedila je na trosjedu do mene u nekoj joga pozi oslanjajući se podlakticama na koljena i fiksirala Škota. Strela je zbunjeno uzeo kolač sa tanjura i sjeo na drugu fotelju. Žvakao je više mehanički nego "sa svojim poznatim guštom". Pogledao je zbunjeno u mom pravcu, a ja sam mu namignuo. Nakon kave i kolača smo krenuli u obilazak Goginim autom. Goga je vozila oštro ali sigurno dosta poštivajući prometne propise. Objasnila je da su "ovdje" kazne za prometne prekršaje dosta visoke i da se nitko ne igra puno sa tim. Sviđalo mi se kako "mota" teški BMW između auta i bez problema parkira na svakom dostupnom mjestu. Upitah je kada je položila. Nasmiješila se i objasnila da nema niti pune dvije godine. Pokazala nam je centar grada, "San Paoli" sa "crvenim svijetlima kupleraja" i par povijesnih spomenika. Nakon kave na nekom poznatom mjestu gdje su se prije drugog rata okupljali umjetnici svih kalibara Goga je predložila "da odemo na neko od umjetnih jezera van grada na kasniji ručak/večeru" što ona časti. Prihvatili smo bez razmišljanja, na kraju i došli smo da bi vidjeli "što se više može". Dok smo prilazili autu Škot je pitao "da li može malo u životu isprobati i BMW-a". Goga mu je dobacila ključeve uz smješak. "Naravno voljela bih te vidjeti kako voziš". Ubacili smo se u auto. Prednje sjedalo do vozača je prešutno "po pravilu" bilo rezervirano za mene budući da sam imao "najduže krake". Ovaj put je Goga podigla naslon i smjestila me na zadnje sjedalo do Strele, sama se ubacujući na prednje suvozačko. Ljubazno me pogledala i pomakla sjedalo naprijed oslobađajući mi prostor za koljena. Nisam komentirao. Dok je Škot vozio Goga mu je davala upute i smijala se na sve njegove izjave. Strela je djelovao zbunjeno, a ja sam ostao hladan i nastojao ubaciti po koju veselu dosjetku. Nisam želio izgubiti niti jednoga od njih dvojice kao prijatelje "ni po koju cijenu". Večera na jezeru je protekla veselo i sa dvije boce Španjolskog vina. Škot je vozio nazad, a svi smo vikali "brže" i "zgazi ga" te slične gluposti dok je na dijelu auto ceste BMW dostizao na brzinomjeru brojku 170. Prije svih sam legao na svoj madrac. Dok je Strela ulazio u krevet namještajući deke samo je dobacio: "Noćka Đoni." Škot je polako sjeo na rub kreveta i namignuo mi potom samo legao ne pokrivajući se. Bio mi je čudan. Prije nego sam zaspao zapisah u pod memoriji da se sutra javim Bosi. Suzana Zamazana Strela se vratio sa telefona. Pogledao je Škota. "Javio sam se i svojoj Miri pozdravila nas i pita zašto se ti uopće ne javljaš Ljilji, od one noći u motelu nije te čula." Škot ga razdraženo pogleda. "Strela to je moja stvar ako si popizdio za Mirom ne uplići mene u to." Strela pogleda prema meni. Pogledah ga i namignuh. Skužio je. Prišao je Škotu i položio mu ruku na rame. "Sorry samo prenosim što mi je Mira rekla. Nadalje onaj tatin prijatelj nijemac nas zove na večeru sve zajedno na nekom jezeru u okolici, zapisao sam, mislim da je to onaj isti restoran gdje smo bili sinoć. Odradimo to i miran sam od mojih "roditelja davitelja". Škot ga pogleda ozbiljno ali meko. "Može ali pokupimo Gogu pa da ide sa nama na večeru nakon posla." Klimnuh glavom, a Strela se samo nasmiješio. Pet minuta kasnije smo provjerili motore parkirane uza zid garaže i potrpali se u auto. Pravac smo dogovorili po planu grada i okolice, debljoj knjižici koju nam je Goga pripremila. Pri polasku iz garaže Škot je otvorio prozor auta i zatulio imitirajući "Otkačenog" (Oddball), tenkistu iz filma "Keely's Heroes". Film je posljednjih par godina bio vrlo popularan u ekipi. Vozili smo se polako ulicama razgledajući zgrade i zagledajući cure u prolazu, ako bi nam se mjesto svidjelo jednostavno bi potražili neki parking u blizini i stali "u detaljan pregled". Popili smo po pivo u nekoj kavani u starom njemačkom stilu. Nije nam se svidjela, unutra su uglavnom visili neki njemački "fosili". Škot je bio u elementu i dobre volje. "Zaboravili smo da svi mladi ovdje rade, a sada je radno vrijeme. Idemo pogledati neku rasprodaju možda nađemo nešto što nam paše." Nakon pola sata traženja pronašli smo veliki tržni centar sa parkingom na tri nivoa. Upali smo u "potrošački raj trulog kapitalizma" razgledavajući sve ono čega u "naprednom socijalizmu" nije bilo ili bilo u vrlo malim količinama. U odjelu informatike zagledali smo za nas tada novo čudo tehnike i po cijeni nedostižno PC računalo. Bacili smo se na nabavku malih disketa za comodore i spectrum računala, sa kojima smo Škot i ja raspolagali. Police sa video igricama smo obišli i detaljno proučili. Na jednom od katova je počivao odjel moto opreme. Sa tugom smo ga nakon sat razgledavanja i prebrojavanja napustili kako bi pogledali nove LP ploče i kazete. Pri pauzi smo u nekom fast food pojeli Hot dog i popili jednu pivu na tri čaše. Škot je bio izrazito dobre volje kako je dan odmicao ali Strela je postajao pomalo šutljiviji. Dok smo brisali prste o papirni stoljnjak u fast food-u Škot ga bocnu prstom. "Strela koji ti je vrag ušutao si se ko Djoni kada smo dolazili što te muči?" Strela je malo pošutao gledajući u stol potom nas pogledao redom u oči. "Dečki sa vama mi je super i ovaj put je super i sve ide više nego dobro ali mislim na Miru. Proveli smo samo jednu noć zajedno i krenuli smo na ovaj put sada mi nedostaje. Jutros smo se čuli i to me muči malo je i živčana. Dva puta me pitala gdje smo i što radimo kada se ti Škot ne javljaš Ljilji uopće." Škot je polako spljoštio plastičnu čašu za pivu prstima i duboko udahnuo. "Strela tebi za ljubav nazvaću Ljilju i pokušati sve smiriti čim se vratimo u stan. Već neko vrijeme mi se čini da nije za mene. Krenuo sam na put i zaključio da mi uopće ne fali niti mislim na nju. Moraću joj to objasniti kada se vratimo ali ću je sada radi tebe nazvati i smiriti." Osjetio sam olakšanje, one napetosti je nestalo i sve je između nas bilo po starom. Ludovali smo još neko vrijeme po ulicama Hamburga potom se zaputili u stan da dočekamo Gogu sa posla. Čim smo ušli Škot je otišao do telefona. Nas dvojica smo diskretno zatvorili vrata hodnika i nasuli si po čašu vodke koja je uvijek stajala u hladnjaku. Polako smo pijuckali i slušali neku country glazbu. Opušteno smo promatrali sunce kroz prozor. Strela je gledao nekamo kroz prozor potom mi se iznenada obratio. "Znaš Đoni meni je stvarno stalo do Mire. Ne mislim to kao prije ono "plešem ratni ples oko nje dok mi ne da pičke". Mira mi paše kao kompletna osoba. Ne vjerujem da bih ovdje odolio da "uhvatim nešto sa strane" ali sve jedno mi je. Ne želim izgubiti Miru." Otišao sam po bocu i bez riječi nam natočio još votke. Bocu sam pustio na stoliću. Kucnuli smo se. "Strela svi mi tražimo "tu neku osobu" i bilo bi mi drago da si je ti našao." Nasmiješio mi se i ispili smo. Pogledah ka vratima. Iz hodnika smo još čuli Škotov tihi glas. Nismo čuli što govori, nije nas ni zanimalo. On je znao sa ženama, znao ih je uvjeriti u što god hoće. Klimnuo sam glavom. "Goga će ovaj mjesec imati malo veći račun za telefon i alkohol." Nasmijali smo se. Strela je odmahnuo rukom. "Kako sam skužio ima plaću preko tri tisuće maraka. Neće to nju puno uzdrmati vidio si kako je ovdje hrana jeftina kao kod nas, a njena plaća deset prosječnih jugo radničkih plaća." Škot je ušao u sobu. Zamjetio je bocu i potegao direktno iz iste. Kada je vratio na stolić pljesnuo je Strelu po ramenu. "Sve ok, smirio sam Ljilju dok se ne vratimo. Javit ću joj se još koji put pa budi miran." Zapalio je cigaretu. Meni se upalila žarulja. Planirao sam danas nazvati Bosu. Pogledao sam na sat. Bilo je oko 18 sati. Vreme je ok, vjerojatno se vratila sa posla. Izašao sam u hodnik prišao telefonu i okrenuo broj. Prvi put sam pogriješio. Trebalo je dodati nulu ispred prvog broja tako se dobivao puni pozivni broj za grad. Okrenuo sam ponovno. Prvi signal. Ok pogodio sam. Nakon petog signala kada sam već pomišljao spustiti slušalicu javio se njemački tvrdi veseli ženski glas. "Daa, dobili ste stan slobodnih mislilaca i neradnika, kako ne želimo biti doma nakon zvučnog signala pustite poruku i ne obraćajte pažnju što se zvučni signal stalno ponavlja kao tuu, tuu, tut, nismo spustili slušalicu." Slijedio je veseli smijeh. Pokušah na svom lošem njemačkom. "Ispričavam se ali samo bih želio razgovarati sa Bosom ako sam dobio pravi broj telefona." Kratka pauza potom zbunjeni glas. "Oprostite mislila sam da je kolegica sa posla, počekajte malo pozvaću je." Začuli su se koraci i netko je podigao slušalicu. "Halo Bosa Đoni je." "Bambii, nemoj reći da si u Njemačkoj." "Već treći dan kod Goge smo." "Treći dan i nisi se do sada javio. Stvarno si prase. Znači onaj Škotlanđanin i Strelac su sa tobom. Super. Nadam se da nađeš vremena da se vidimo." "Obavezno mislio sam i danas ali Strela ima neke obveze prema poslovnim partnerima njegovih staraca pa ako može sutra." "Može. Doći će mo po tebe nakon posla. Ono ludo prase Petru si već upoznao tako da je neću morati posebno predstavljati." "Onu što nešto glumi? "Ma pusti je, postavili su prve telefonske sekretarice na poslu pa sada kod svakog javljanja na telefon glumi telefonsku sekretaricu, otkačen stvor ali mislim da će te se kao dva luđaka ipak dobro uklopiti." "Vjerujem da hoćemo. Imam tvoju adresu ali mislim da je to dosta dalje od Hamburga. Pa reci gdje da dođem?" "Ahernsburg je Samo 50 km od centra Hamburga. Kako misliš doći?" "Motorom." "OK vrati se od Goge prema auto cesti, ubaci se na obilaznicu oko Hamburga i skreni na cestu 75 potom samo ravno. Treba ti oko 40 minuta od Goge do ulaska u Ahernsburg. Čekamo te na ulasku u 18 sati. Može?" "Sada moram do kuhinje da vidim što mi je Petra zabrljala sa ručkom dok sam pričala. Veselim ti se. Ciao." Veza se prekinula. Krenuo sam prema sobi i začuo ključ u bravi. Goga je veselo upala na vrata stana. "Đonii." Okačila je jaknu i dala mi pusu u usta. Brzo je ušla u dnevni boravak i dala pusu Streli u obraz, a Škotu u usta. Samo ova pusa kod Škota kao da je malo dulje potrajala. Slegao sam ramenima, već sam zakopao svaku nadu i ljubomoru. Škot je bio majstor za skontati žensku. Bacio sam se na fotelju i natočio si novu votku. Škot je objasnio Gogi da trebamo biti oko osam sati na ulazu u restoranu "Pirate" na jezeru. Veselo je klimnula glavom. "To je restoran malo dalje od onoga gdje smo bili sinoć. Krenimo oko sedam." Potom je dohvatila bocu sa votkom i otpila dobar gutljaj. Malo se zagrcnula i nasmiješila Škotu. Škot je dohvatio bocu i nazdravio joj. Strela je gledao kroz prozor. Ja sam otišao da HiFI i pojačao onu country glazbu. Dobro im ide pomislio sam. Stigli smo petnaest minuta ranije pa smo "bacili mali đir" po obali. Goga nam je objasnila da se na ovom dijelu može raditi roštilj u za to predviđenim zidanim roštiljima i svirati gitara navečer ako nisi previše bučan. Znala je tu sa ekipom navratiti. Potom je pljesnula rukama. "Upoznaćete ih ovaj vikend i napravit ćemo roštilj ovdje. Vidi tamo za roštiljom su neki naši sudeći harmonici." Zadnje je dodala tiho. Pogledah u pravcu gdje je pokazivala. Pet metara od nas ekipa od dvije žene i četiri muškarca se muvala oko roštilja. Na travi je ležala harmonika sa malom Jugoslavenskom zastavom nalijepljenom na kutiju. Sa roštilja je dopirao miris mesa, a gajba pive je ležala pored deke očigledno namijenjene za sjedenje. Boca je kružila po ekipi. Razaznah riječi "domaća", "dobra" i "sretan rođendan". Polako smo se zaputili ka ulazu u restoran. Dok smo kretali začuo se zvuk harmonike i lagani pljesak. Na moje zadovoljstvo nije bila neka od novokomponiranih narodnih već "Ribara starog kći". Herman i Sofija su nas čekali na ulazu u restoran. Herman je bio ugodni stari gospodin od oko sedamdeset godina. Sofija je bila desetak godina mlađa visoka plava dobro obučena i zgodna dama. Strela nas je sve predstavio na svom tarzan english. Ljubazno su nas pozdravili i objasnili da je stol rezerviran u dijelu bez glazbe, tako da možemo pričati, ako želimo prebacit će se u dio sa glazbom. Odbili smo, nije nam se slušala glazba sa zvučnika po tuđem izboru. Dok smo kretali Herman je odmjerio Gogu u laganoj majici, traper minici, mrežastim čarapama i cipelama visoke pete. Očigledno je skretala pažnju na sebe. Gospođa Sofija se samo nasmiješila odmahujući glavom. Dio bez glazbe je bila terasa okrenuta prema onom dijelu plaže gdje su tridesetak metara dalje naši "zemljaci" slavili nešto. Dok smo sjedali za stol dopirali su do nas zvuci harmonike i lagana pjesma "Osam tamburaša". Lik je stvarno svirao dobro. Goga se ubacila između Škota i Hermana, Strelu je zapalo između Hermana i Sofije, ja sam sjedio do Sofije naspram Škota i Goge. Herman je ponudio jelovnike i rekao da kao njegovi gosti biramo. Savijetovao je ribu ili "Argentinski Biftek". Krenulo je sa aperitivom. Na početku je bilo malo nategnuto no nakon dva aperitiva je sve postalo opuštenije. Kada je predjelo stiglo na stol već je pala prva boca vina, Goga je preuzela ulogu općeg prevoditelja, a ekipa vani je postala malo glasnija uz harmoniku. Goga je vješto podigla atmosferu. Kod druge boce vina gospođa Sofia je odbila uz obrazloženje da ona vozi doma "kako bi Hermi mogao popiti koju". Goga je pogledala Škota i nasmijala mu se. "OK ti popij, ja vozim doma." Škot joj je nazdravio čašom. Kada su se kucnuli zamijetih da mu je jedna ruka nestala sa stola. Poznajući taj pokret bilo mi je jasno da ta ruka počiva na Goginom koljenu u crnim čarapama. Herman je postao opušteniji pričajući svoje doživljaje iz trgovine sa SSSR-om. Ona ekipa je već bila na Makedonskim pjesmama i jasno smo čuli "Makedonsko devojče". Kada je stiglo glavno jelo i nova boca crnog vina oni na plaži su postali malo glasniji i svirali su "Ako umram il zaginam". Škotova ruka nje se pojavljivala ispod stola sve dok nije morao uzeti vilicu uz glavno jelo. Sofia je slušala glazbu i riječi koji su dopirali sa plaže. Pitala je da li je to jugo glazba, Goga joj je odgovorila da je. Gospođa se nije zbunila poslušala je ono "Ako umram il zaginem nemojte me žalate" i pitala Gogu o čemu pjeva pjesma. Goga je objasnila u par riječi, u među razdoblju Škotova ruka je ponovno nestala pod stolom. Ovaj put je i nešto tiho rekao Gogi. Ona mu se nasmiješila. Ekipa na plaži je malo utihnula vjerojatno radi one boce rakije koja je kružila uz pivo. Sudeći po Škotovom izrazu lica ruka mu nije počivala na Goginom koljenu već malo više. Zapalio sam cigaretu i potegao gutljaj vina iz čaše. Strela se pravio da ništa ne vidi i natucao neki engleski sa Hermanom. Goga je polako naslonila glavu na Škotovo rame. Oni na plaži ponovno su počeli samo glasnije lijepo se čula prva strofa koju su uz harmoniku zajedno pjevali. "Oj Suzana zana zana zamazana zana zana, al je krasan pogled oka tvog!" Sofia se nagnula slušajući i klimnula glavom. "Lijepo zvuči isto vaša pjesma?" Goga i Škot su se isključili od ostatka svijeta sjedeli su bez riječi ona naslonjena na njegovo rame, a on sa pogledom na plažu bez naznaka da je čuo bilo što. Pitao sam se do kuda je dospio sa rukom. Sofija je ostala bez odgovora pa se okrenula prema meni budući da je skužila da nešto govorim njemački. Klimnuh glavom. "Da gospođo." Sa plaže je sada harmonika postala glasnija, a dva ženska glasa su pjevala. "Oj Suzana moraš mi reći što ti je trbuh sve veći i veći?" Dečki su preuzeli refren. "Oj Suzana zana zana zamazana zana zana al je krasan pogled oka tvog." Sofija je njihala glavom u ritmu glazbe. Cure na plaži su krenule dalje. "Mila majko jedne je noći Ive želio da ga umoči." Cijela ekipa sa plaže je krenula sa slijedećom strofom. "O teško meni, o teško meni, Ivek mora sad da se ženi." Sofia me pogledala. "Gospon Đoni kakva je to pjesma?" I dalje je njihala glavom u ritmu glazbe. Reagirao sam refleksno. "Ljubavna gospođo." "Ooo, tako lijepo zvuči." Ekipa sa plaže je izbacila još jednom refren "Suzanu zamazanu" i jedan muški glas je preuzeo slijedeću strofu. "Punica draga nek niš ne pita za njenu ćerku boli me kita." Nakon toga su svi zapjevali. "Punice draga imaj na umu da Ivek uvijek koristi gumu. I to je curo o braku tvome ja sa sobom nosim kondome." Krenulo je još jednom "Suzana zamazana" praćeno salvom smijeha. Sofija me začuđeno pogledala. "O čemu pjevaju u toj pjesmi?" Našao sam se na trenutak u zabuni nakon toga ispalih gledajući u Gogu i Škota. "Oni bi trebali dobiti dijete i realizirati brak ali to nije moguće iz tehničkih razloga, mislim okolice." Goga se iznenada uključila u ovaj svijet. Slušala je moj loš njemački i začuđeno me pogledala. Sofija me gledala još čudnije. "Gospon Džoni zašto se oni pjevači na kraju smiju kada je to sa ljubavi tužno?" Pogledao sam je uz smiješak. "Ipak se sve dobro završi samo mi je teško na lošem njemačkom to objasniti." Polako je klimnula glavom dok je Goga gledala u mene sa iznenađenjem. "Recite mi samo još jednom kako se zove ta pjesma?" Gledajući u Gogu točio sam si vino u čašu, polako izgovorih. "Suzana zamazana." Goga me pogledala onim svojim pogledom i brzo dobacila smiješeći se. "Ti si stvarno lud." Škot me mrko odmjerio, a Sofija mi se nasmiješila. "Zapamtit ću to je lijepa melodija." Herman je popio koju više i udavio Strelu svojim pričama na engleskom skužio sam samo u jednom dijelu da hvali Strelinog tatu kao vrlo sposobnog. Ja sam popio koju više i ispričao se sa Sofijom koja je ispala ugodna gospođa sa burnim doživljajima iz mladosti. Bio sam hladan što se tiče Goge. Nije me više to pogađalo ali me je Škot par puta čudno pogledao. Na kraju večeri je policija upozorila ekipu na plaži da budu tihi. Herman je zlatnom vizom platio račun i dugo su se pozdravljali sa nama. Sofija mu je pomogla do auta. Mahali smo im dok su kretali, a svatko je u ruci držao Hermanovu vizitku. Zaputili smo se ka autu. Škot i Goga zagrljeni. Na pola puta do auta su stali i počeli se ljubiti kao da ne zamjećuju ništa oko sebe. Strela i ja smo se pravili da ništa ne vidimo. Kada smo krenuli Goga je vozila, a Škot je držao za koljeno kada je to bilo moguće. Prije nego je ubacila kazetu u radio okrenula se prema meni. "Suzana Zamazana i još k tome to prodaješ kao ljubavnu pjesmu." Škot se počeo smijati. Goga je raspalila po plinu dok je iz radija glasno svirao Dire Straits - "Sultans Of Swing". Popili smo još jednu za laku noć. Škot i Goga su nestali u Goginoj spavaćoj sobi. Strela me pogledao. Podigao sam čašu. "Živjeli, ispijemo ovu pa idemo u krpe." Strela je klimnuo glavom. Dok sam se pakirao u vreću za spavanje na svom madracu Strela je dobacio. "Sada možeš i na ležaj ima dovoljno mjesta." "Hvala stari ali znaš ono "ja jesam peder ali nisi moj tip"." Nasmijao se. Pet minuta kasnije čuo sam kako duboko diše. Njega situacija sa Gogom i Škotom nije uzbuđivala. Meni je bilo žao radi onog "Suzana zamazana". Na svu sreću nije se ljutila. Oboje su mi prijatelji neka im je sa srećom. Nasmijao se. Pet minuta kasnije čuo sam kako duboko diše. Njega situacija sa Gogom i Škotom nije uzbuđivala. Meni je bilo žao radi onog "Suzana zamazana". Na svu sreću nije se ljutila. Oboje su mi prijatelji neka im je sa srećom. Kako je kome suđeno Ušli smo u stan i sjeli za stol. Boljelo me je cijelo tijelo i vapio sam za krevetom. Škot je otišao do hladnjaka i izvadio bocu votke. Goga je pazila da uvijek bude jedna boca u hladnjaku. Pogotovu zadnja tri dana. Škot je natočio svima i ispili smo. Polako je izvukao lovu i položio je na stol. Mala gomilica njemačkih maraka. Bile su sve stotice. "Zaslužili smo." Bio je jedini komentar. Polako je uzeo novac i počeo ga dijeliti na tri kupa. Radio je to u šali i sa zadovoljstvom. Slagao je po sustavu "jedna tebi jedna meni jedna njemu". Izbrojio sam svoj dio dok je dijelio. Šesto maraka. Malo bogatstvo. Za ovo se moglo kupiti nešto ili produljiti put za tjedan dva. Tko zna gdje bi smo mogli stići. Pogledah Škota. "Bilo je dogovoreno tisuću i petsto na nas tri. Otkuda sada tristo maraka više." Nasmiješio se i polako šibicom zapalio cigaretu. "Horst je bio zadovoljan obavljenim poslom i častio je svakoga sa po sto maraka. Nema vremena da nas izvede u restoran pa je dao lovu. Očigledno je dobro zaradio na nama." Strela je duboko uzdahnuo. "Zaslužili smo. Bilo je to jebenih tri dana." Dan nakon one večere smo sjedili i igrali poker. Škot je odbijao poći nekamo bez Goge pa smo je čekali da se vrati sa posla. Ja sam ionako imao namjeru otići na onaj sastanak sa Bosom. Goga je došla ranije. Upala je u stan i dugo Ljubila Škota. Potom je kritički odmjerila karte, gomilu čikova u pepeljari i prazne limenke piva. Okrenula se prema meni. "Đoni pisao si mi, jedan put, da ste radili kod vulkanizera?" "Radili smo više puta. Zašto?" Držeći Škota za ruku objasnila je da je prijatelj njene poznanice u problemima. Imao je svađalačku narav i napustila su ga dva radnika upravo kada je dobio veliki posao za jednu od glavnih taksi firmi u Hamburgu. Nije se nadao tom poslu, a upravo ga je dobio. Sada mora zamijeniti gume na više auta u roku od tri dana. Traži bilo koga za pomoć, na crno još bolje. Njemački radnici ne vole prekovremene, a ovdje će se raditi "dan i noć". Počinje se večeras i do petka u podne sve mora biti gotovo. Spreman je platiti po petsto maraka svakome za tri dana. Pogledali smo se. To je za nas bila lova. Škot je poljubio Gogu. "U igri smo." Otkazao sam sastanak sa Bosom. Javila se Petra, Bosa je na poslu, a ona je došla malo ranije da spremi nešto za jelo. Djelovala je zbunjeno kada sam objasnio da "imam neki posao i ne mogu doći ali da se javim i sve objasnim". Ok nazvat će Bosu i objasniti da je otkazano. Pola sata kasnije bili smo u vulkanizerskoj radionici. Vlasnik je bio niski debeli njemac po imenu Horst. Visoki mršavi mladić koji nije prekidao posao je bio njegov sin. Vani je bilo parkirano pet mercedesa 190, krem boje, sa natpisom TAXI na bočnim stranicama. Objasnio je da je neka inspekcija pregledala gume na vozilima i masno kaznila firmu radi par "sumnjivih" guma. Uprava je poludjela i odlučila na pola vozila staviti nove gume. Bilo je to jeftinije od nove kazne. Vozila će nam dovoziti na kraju smjene i u najkraćem roku moramo zamjeniti gume. Pokazao je glavom ka planinskom vijencu novih guma, uredno poslaganih svugdje po radionici. Posao može ali prvo da vidi kako radimo. Odmjerio nas je otišao do malog ureda sa staklenim zidovima i donio tri čista radna kombinezona. Meni je kombinezon bio malo kraći, a preširok. Slijedeći dani su se pretvorili u auto gume. Radili smo do kasno. Nas trojica smo skidali kotače, skidali gume i montirali nove. Horst i sin bi pregledali svaki kotač sa novom gumom i izvršili balansiranje. Osobno su postavljali kotače na aute. Auti su stizali u grupama od tri do pet i činilo se da nikada neće prestati. Radilo se do kasno u noć. Ovo jutro mi se činilo da neću ustati, sve me boljelo. Oko podneva nije više bilo auta, a gomile novih guma su bile zamijenjene starim gumama. Horst je rekao da je posao gotov. Skinuli smo prljave poderane radne kombinezone i oprali se. Škot je otišao po lovu. Nama se nije dalo, sjedeli smo na motorima i čekali ga. Sada sam gledao u novčanice na stolu, oni bolovi su počeli popuštati, a i umor je bio nekako manji. Pokupih novac i ubacih ga u džep traperica. "Sada možemo i malo produljiti put?" Strela je slegnuo ramenima. "Ja bih nazad kako je planirano ali ako ste vas dvojica ..." Strela je obavio još jedan telefonski razgovor sa "ljubavnom središnjicom" i bio je smireniji. Izgleda da je "situacija bila pod kontrolom". Škot me oštro pogleda. "Đoni da to pustimo par dana, poslije odlučimo." Klimnuo sam glavom i otišao pod tuš. Presvukao sam majicu i promatrao traperice na sebi. Bile su pomalo prljave stvarno je vrijeme da nabavim nove i ubacim ove u perilicu. Nazvao sam Bosu na posao. Pri prošlom telefonskom dala mi je broj na poslu. "Halo, ovaj put dolazim samo reci kada?" "Super šest sati isto mjesto kao i prošli put. Petri će biti drago radoznala je da te vidi." Sve je štimalo. Bacili smo se na karte i coca colu. Goga je upala ranije puna energije i vesela. Bacila je veliku plastičnu vrećicu na Škota. "Poklon iznenađenje!" Dugo su se ljubili. Škot je nakon toga iz vrećice izvukao kožnu jaknu i isprobao je. Bila je nešto između motociklističke i sportske. Crna kratka jakna završavala je kožnim remenom. Stvarno je izgledala super. Dok je Kuhala paštu Goga je veselo objasnila da je zakazala večeras sa nekom ekipom izlazak u disko bar "Western Gold". Bit će dvije prijateljice i jedan poznanik. Namignula je ka Streli i meni. Tada je zazvonio telefon. Goga je postavila paštu na stol u blagavonici i otrčala do telefona. Veselo se javila ali je glas ubrzo postao tih pa ljutit. Uspio sam razaznati malo njemačkog. Zvučalo je u stilu "to je riješeno tako mora biti" i "ne prijeti mi". Iznenada je zalupila slušalicu i otrčala u spavaću sobu. Zalupila je vrata. Škot je otišao za njom. Pogledali smo se. Strela me upitno promatrao. "Nisam ništa skužio, neka rasprava." Sjedeli smo i čekali. U jednom trenutku je iz spavaće sobe dopirao Gogin malo histeričan povišeni glas. Potom je sve utihnulo. Pašta je stajala na stolu već hladna. Strela je otišao do hladnjaka po pivo, a ja sam pustio glazbu. Sjedeli smo i čekali povremeno potežući pivo. Konačno je Škot izašao iz sobe. Sjeo je za stol i odmjerio nas. Ovo je izbacio ljutito. Čekali smo da produlji. Otišao je do hladnjaka i donio bocu sa votkom. Otpio je iz boce i zapalio cigaretu. "Goga je imala vezu sa nekim likom. Raskinula je ali sada je gnjavi i prijeti joj. Uplašena je." Čekali smo bez riječi. Konačno Strela nije izdržao. "Neki opasan lik kada se uplašila ili samo drkadžija koji sere?" Škot je otpio još jedan gutljaj iz boce. "Ne znam sve detalje ali nijemac je i ima gadnu ekipu. Nešto kao kod nas, faca sa ekipom koja misli da je iznad svega." Pogledah ga upitno. "Koliko je opasno?" "Za sada ništa samo prijeti ali možda bude." Klimnuh glavom. "Idem do Bose. Nadam se da nije frka pa možete bez mene." Strela je klimnuo glavom. "Bez brige, ako bude trebalo vrištat ćemo "u pomoć" pa ti dođi." Smiješio se. Nije ga uzbuđivala situacija. Škot me pljesnu po ramenu. "Ma idemo na neko mjesto gdje oni ne zalaze tako da je ok." "Sa mnom samo imate frke, žao mi je ali nešto mi je suđeno da samo stvaram probleme prijateljima." Podigao sam glavu. Goga je stajala iza nas. Imala je neki čudan ili tužan pogled. Nasmiješih joj se. "Bez brige imamo dosta iskustva sa luđacima." Dok je prilazila stolu polako se nagnula i poljubila me u obraz. "Đoni uvijek spreman pomoći." Škot mi je namignuo, a Strela je počeo ubacivati hladnu paštu u tanjur. "Možemo podgrijati preljev." Zaključio je ubacujući prvu vilicu pašte u usta. Čekao sam na parkingu benzinske prije ulaza u Ahernsburg. Ona zgodna njemica se ponovno nagnula da opere prednje staklo na nekom autu i zadovoljno sam promatrao njenu zadnjicu utegnutu u crvene radničke hlače. Malo mi je popravilo raspoloženje. Prije mog polaska telefon u Goginom stanu je još dva puta zvonio. Prvi put se javila Goga i nakon kratkog vremena zalupila slušalicu. Pet minuta kasnije je telefon ponovno zvonio. Goga je bila blijeda. Škot joj je dao glavom znak da se javi. Ustao je i stajao pored nje dok je podizala slušalicu. Kada ga je pogledala i klimnula glavom preuzeo je slušalicu i dreknuo na engleskom nešto u stilu "Idiote nazovi još jedan put i hebat ću te do smrti". Vratili su se za stol. Goga je bila blijeda, a za Škota mi se činilo da mu para izlazi na uši. Strela je samo smotao cigaretu i komentirao: "Ako se ponovno javi nakon tvoje prijetnje sigurno je peder." Dok sam izlazio iz stana Goga me otpratila do vrata. Izašla je sa mnom vani i tiho zatvorila vrata. "Đoni si im išta ispričao o mojoj situaciji prije odlaska?" Pogledah je upitno. "Mislim ono za tatu i ..." Odmahnuh glavom. "Oni su mi prijatelji i nisu me ništa pitali. Uradili smo što smo uradili i to je to." "Kvrcnuo" sam je kacigom po glavi. "Čuvaj mi Škota. Pusa." Dok sam startao motor osjećao sam se bolje. Bijeli Ford Escort je skrenuo na parking i polako se zaustavio na desetak metara od mog motora. Sa su vozačkih vrata je izašla visoka njemica malo grubljih crta lica u kožnim hlačama i traper jakni. Bila je visoka i na neki čudan način zgodna. Plava kosa je bila kratko podšišana, ali frizura je bila tipično ženska. Duguljasto lice grubljih crta je ipak izgledalo ženstveno. Iznenada mi je mahnula. Odmahnuh joj. Prošla je vječnost prije nego su se vozačka vrata otvorila. Bosa je polako izašla i krenula prema meni. Nosila je svijetlu traper haljinu i crne malo punije čarape. Sandale su bile na visoku potpeticu. Zamijetio sam da više ne vuče nogu odnosno ne šepa. Široko se smiješila. Prišla je i uhvatila me za podlaktice potom mi udijelila pusu u usta. Zagrlio sam je. Ona njemica se iznenada stvorila pored nas. "Hei, a ja, mene ne želiš upoznati. Nisam bio siguran da sam dobro "skužio" njemački. Pustio sam Bosu i polako se okrenuo prema njemici. Pružih joj ruku. Pljusnula me po ruci u stilu "daj pet" i nasmijala se. "Petra." Gledala me u oči. Imala je prodoran pogled i neki nedokučivi šarm u tom pogledu. Osjetio sam se malim i nevažnim u njenom životu. Spontano sam se nasmiješio. Odgovorila je smiješkom i "pljusnula" me po glavi. "Da znaš tko je šef." Potom je otrčala ka autu i otvorila vrata. "Heii vas dva idemoooo." Bosa me pogledala. "Sve u redu sviđaš joj se. Vozi iza nas." Polako se zaputila prema autu. Dok sam prilazio motoru i navlačio kacigu osjećao sam vrtoglavicu. Ništa mi nije bilo jasno i sve je bilo OK ali ništa nije bilo "po standardu". Gdje je "zajeb"? Escort je polako krenuo sa parkirališta. Slijedio sam ga. Dok smo skretali kroz ulice starog dijela grada prema periferiji Petra se malo "provukla" kroz su vozački prozor i mahnula mi pokazujući rukama nešto što sam rastumačio kao "još malo". Očigledno nije mogla "mirovati". Mahnuh joj rukom i poslah pusu. Kroz prozor je ispružila ruku sa savijenom šakom u stilu "poljubi mi ruku". Ne znam zašto ali počela mi se sviđati. Jedino me mučilo da se nakon prvih dojmova ne pokaže kao "mali demon ženske zločestoće". Obično su, u mom životu, cure sa sličnim stilom bile robinje svoga ega, u stilu "svijet se okreće oko mene". Možda je, možda nije, vidjet ćemo. Skrenuli smo u malu sporednu ulicu potom u dvorište jedne od onih kuća "na četiri dijela". Kuće tog tipa su bile česte u Njemačkoj. Kocka od kuće sa jednom stranom u jednoj ulici, a drugom stranom u drugoj ulici je bila podijeljena sa dva ravna pregradna zida, tako su se dobivala četiri dvoetažna stana sa svojim komadom dvorišta i garažom. Dva u jednoj, a dva u drugoj ulici. Bosa mi je pokazala da ubacim motor u garažu iza auta. Par minuta kasnije ušli smo u stan. Petra mi je uzela kacigu iz ruke malo je zagledala i stavila u policu ormara u predsoblju. Sve je uradila prirodno pa je to imalo nekog šarma. Dnevni boravak je sadržavao stolić kožni trosjed fotelju i gomilu kožnih jastučića razbacanih po podu. Na jednom zidu je bila polica sa HiFi uređajima i tv sa video recorder - om. U kutu drugoga je počivala gitara na stalku. Petra me gurnula u fotelju dok se Bosa smiješila. "Skini jaknu i opusti se, sada će pokorne žene da donesu piće. Whisk-ey ili vodka?" "Votka." Opustio sam se dok su se njih dvije uputile u kuhinju. Par minuta kasnije smo sjedili uz bocu votke, narezak i grickalice na stoliću. Počela je ugodna večer. Pogledah u gitaru pa u Bosu. "Počela si svirati gitaru?" "Ni govora. Petra svira i to odlično." Pogledah Petru. "Odsviraš mi nešto?" Namignula mi je. "Tek nakon treće čaše vodke." Nasmijali smo se. Led se počeo topiti. Nakon petnaest minuta neobveznog razgovora Petra je pokupila čašu i otišla u kuhinju sa obrazloženjem "treba isprazniti hladnjak od smeća i uvaliti to u večeru". Ništa što je rekla ili radila nije zvučalo zločesto. Jednostavno je izgledalo kao prirodno iskazano "to je to". Bilo je jasno da nas je pustila "na samo". Bosa me pogledala i nasula nova pića potom malo pojačala glazbu sa hifi. Promatrao sam je sa leđa dok je hodala ka HiFi ormariću. Nogu više uopće nije vukla. Kada je sjela ispalih. "Što kod tebe ima novo u zadnjih godinu dana. Čini mi se samo da bolje hodaš od kada smo se zadnji put vidjeli." Prije to sa nogom nikada nisam izrekao. Sada jednostavno nisam izdržao. Pogledala me na neki čudan način i malo se nagnula prema meni. "Prvi put uopće pitaš o tome. I lijepo je da pitaš tek kada je sve u redu, za razliku od drugih. Imala sam operaciju i tri mjeseca ležanja u bolnici. Produljenje kosti. Kost razrežu malo je odvoje učvrste šinama i čekaju da sam organizam popuni prazninu, sama sraste. Potom se isto ponavlja dok se ne dobije željeno produljenje. Sada je ok." Podigoh čašu. "U to ime. Je bilo bolno?" Kucnuli smo se čašama. "Ponekada je vraški boljelo, da zažališ što si se upuštao u to. Ali sada je sve sjajno, isplatila se bol. Jedino je ostao ožiljak ali to riješim malo punijim tamnim čarapama ili nosim hlače." Sada se već smiješila. Zapalio sam cigaretu. Promotrila me pažljivo. "Ti se mijenjaš. Izraz ti je oštriji, a pogled čvršći. Djeluješ umorno." "Puno smo radili ova tri dana i jesam umoran." Nestala je u kuhinji i vratila se sa zdjelicom zelenih maslina. Natočila mi je novu čašicu. "Imamo grčko vino uz večeru, nešto što je Petra iskopala u nekom tržnom centru. Ona uvijek eksperimentira sa pićima." "Polako sa alkoholom, moram voziti nazad tako da ..." "Nadala sam se da ostaješ." Pogledao sam je promatrala me mirno. "Želiš to?" "Želim." "OK ostajem." Nije se nasmiješila samo je klimnula glavom. "Pripremit ću ti drugu spavaću sobu. Imaš sve što ti treba, ako ne imamo par novih četkica za zube." Postajalo je napeto. Nisam očekivao ovakav razvoj događaja. Stan je imao samo dvije spavaće sobe na katu i veliki dnevni boravak i blagavaonu u prizemlju, jasno ko dan koji je raspored po spavaćim sobama. Polako spustih čašicu na stol. "Ti nećeš sa mnom?" Nije gledala u mene. Klimnula je glavom gledajući nekamo u led diode HiFi pojačala. "Hoću ali ne odmah. Malo ćemo još razjasniti stvari. Treba malo vremena, samo malo." Ovo je bilo jasno ali neodređeno. To, malo vremena, koliko? Sat, dva ili tri dana. Odlučih ne "silovati" vratit ćemo se na tu temu kasnije čak i pred Petrom ako treba. Odlučih se prebaciti na drugo područje. "Nema problema. Goga mi nije ništa rekla za tvoju operaciju ili kako je sa tobom. Rekla je samo da si dobro i da ti život teče ok. Dalje nije odgovarala na moja pitanja. Točnije izbjegavala je odgovore i pitanja. Nešto ne štima između vas?" Malo me gledala direktno u oči. "Štima u normalnim odnosima, samo smo se davno razdvojile i slabo kontaktiramo. Živjela je sa nama deset mjeseci, kada je došla u Njemačku, nakon toga je otišla svojim putem i mislim da joj dobro ide samo ..." Naglo je prekinula i posegnula za bocom. Dolila nam je votke u čaše. Čekao sam da nastavi ali nije. "Ide joj dobro samo ... " "Ništa, samo malo znam o njoj u zadnje vrijeme." Ovo nije zvučalo baš iskreno ali bila je još jedna tema za kasnije. Iz kuhinje je dotutnjila Petra i pogledala nas. "Pijete bez mene ali ja ću umrijeti od tuge pa će vam poslije biti krivo." Dograbila je bocu i nasula si u čašu smještajući se na ležaj pored Bose. Pogledala me je uz osmijeh i podigla čašu, stvarno mi se sviđala, bilo je nešto posebno u njoj. Neki slični komentari od nekih cura prije su me živcirali, uvijek su sličili na prenemaganje. Kod Petre je to bilo izrečeno u nekom stilu "tek da nešto kažem", nije čak ni zvučalo kao loša šala. Sa zvučnika je dopirao Dylan - "Knocking on heavens door". Udahnuo sam i osjetio da sam pretjerao sa cigaretama posljednja tri dana. Počeo me i hvatati umor. Petra je uhvatila Bosu za ruku, držala je nježno. Gledala me je sa zanimanjem. "Imamo lasagne voliš to? Bosa mi je pričala dosta o tebi, bila sam radoznala da te upoznam." Nije čekala odgovor. "Koliko ste vozili do Hamburga? Vjerojatno je to suuper pustolovina. Cesta, sloboda i glazba u glavi ili tako nekako. Uvijek to pomislim kada vidim motore na cesti, morati ću to jedan put isprobati, položiti nabaviti motor i malo ..." Prekinula je da odpije iz čaše. Odlučih ne prekidati je odgovorima na pitanja. Očigledno je bila hiper aktivno stvorenje. Promatrao sam je kako drži Bosinu ruku, nježno kao ljubavnica. Otpila je dva puta po gutljaj. Gledao sam Bosu ona je skrenula pogled. Petra me pogledala. "Heei, nećeš mi odgovoriti?" Ovo nisam očekivao. Pogledah je uz osmijeh i namignuh joj. "Kojim redom da odgovorim?" "Voliš lasagne?" "Koliko ste vozili do hamburga?" "Pet dana." "Pet dana suuper. Gdje ste spavali, upoznali neke zanimljive ljude?" "Spavali smo u studentskom smještaju ilegalno, u vrtu jedne vlasnice Biker-Bara, na benzinskoj i u pederskom motelu na cesti." Petra se počela smijati. Prosula je malo votke koju je točila. Bosa se ukočila. "Pederskom motelu? Jeste vi pederi?" Odmahnuh glavom. Zaključio sam da bi ona i deklariranog homoseksualca pitala na isti način. "Ne samo smo pogriješili cestu, zalutali i našli motel, bilo je kasno pa smo odlučili prenoćiti u istom." Petra je već tulila od smijeha. "I onda su vam dečki pokazali gdje ste dospjeli! Ujutro ste samo malo čudno hodali. Tako je to nakon analnog seksa prvi put." Protiv volje se nasmijah, bila je zarazna u svom veselju. Pustila je Bosinu ruku i udarala se po nad koljenici glasno se smijući. Bosa me ukočeno i zbunjeno gledala. Pogledah Petru. "Pretpostavljam da to znaš iz vlastitog iskustva ali ja to ne bih mogao potvrditi, nisam probao. Da smo spavali u pederskom motelu doznali smo tek slijedeće jutro na benzinskoj kada su nas svi čudno gledali dok smo "ponosno" objašnjavali gdje smo prespavali." Nastavila se smijati i presavila se u struku naginjući glavu ka podu. "Mogu zamisliti situaciju. Ti pričaš, a dečki te gledaju i polako se odmiču od tebe nakon minute si sam, ostao je samo jedan koji te zaljubljeno gleda. Ne brini ovdje je to prihvaćeno." Bosa je sjedela ukočeno na ležaju i gledala u mene. Namignuh joj i uputih smiješak. Prvi put u našim odnosima bila je u poziciji da čeka moju reakciju. Do sada je ona vodila sve, čvrsto i samouvjereno. Odlučih iskoristiti prednost i preuzeti kontrolu. Čekao sam da se Petra malo smiri potom je pogledao i podigao čašu. "Jesi ti lezbijka?" Nije se zbunila, otpila je iz čaše i klimnula glavom. "Uglavnom da ali ponekada i ne." Iznenada je skočila sa trosjeda. "Lasagnee u pećnici su, a ja ovdje vrištim od smijeha." Nestala je u kuhinji. Pogledao sam Bosu. Šutjela je i gledala mimo mene. Prvi put u odnosu sa njom sam osjetio da ja kontroliram situaciju. Ispio sam ostatak iz čaše i spustio je na stolić. Alkohol me polako hvatao ali bilo mi je svejedno. Šutio sam i čekao. Na kraju Bosa nije izdržala. "Mislila sam da znaš, sve one priče o meni. Silvia je obećala da će ti kada uruči paket ponešto objasniti. Sada vidim da sam sama trebala ranije to riješiti. Oprosti." Odmahnuh glavom i protiv svoje volje zapalih cigaretu. Sjetih se prvog Bosinog paketa i žene koja ga je donijela. Gledala me ispitivački ili kao da mi željela nešto reći. Ja sam se brzo pokupio tražeći pismo. Sada nije bitno. "Nije bitno, Silvija nije imala šansu. Moja krivica. Onu jednu noć, kada smo se drugi put vidjeli, potrošili smo na druge stvari." Sjedili smo i šutali. Sa zvučnika je dopirala glazba Eagles - "Hotel California ". Zapitah se u kojoj kući vlastitih duhova sam ja sada zarobljen. Na riječi pjesme "to može biti nebo, to može biti pakao" lagano zatvorih oči. Petra je došla iz kuhinje. Pogledala nas je i prišla HiFi polici. U dva oštra pokreta prekinula je i izbacila kazetu. Ne okrećući se prema nama tvrdim glasom je dobacila. "Koja pogrebna atmosfera je zavladala. Sigurno je glazba kriva za to." Ubacila je drugu kazetu. Iz zvučnika je krenulo Patrick Hernandez - "Born to Be Alive ". Petra se polako okrenula i došla do moje fotelje. Čučnula je i uhvatila me sa obije ruke za glavu. Brzo i kratko mi dala pusu u usta. "Pozajmim ti Bosu za noćas pa vi riješite sve kasnije u sobi. Može?" Digla se i krenula prema kuhinji. "Idem po vino dok se lasagne malo ohlade, ne bi bilo dobro da dalje pijemo votku, a vas dva se oraspoložite dok se vratim." Nestala je u kuhinji. Ustao sam i polako prišao Bosi. Kleknuo sam na jedno koljeno i ljubio je polako i dugo. Zagrlila me. Kada je poljubac završio pogledao sam je u oči. "Nije važno neka život ide dalje. Kako je kome suđeno." Klimnula je glavom. Polako sam se vratio na fotelju. Pogledali smo se i nasmijali. Iz zvučnika je tulio Boney M - "Ma Baker ". Osjetih da se vratila dobra atmosfera. Petra je dotutnjila iz kuhinje sa otvorenom bocom crnog vina u jednoj ruci i tri vinske visoke čaše sa stalkom između prstiju druge ruke. Poredala je čaše na stol i natočila ih do pola. "Kratko piće i zajedno postavljamo stol, da se lasagne ne ohlade previše." Ubacila se do Bose zagrlila je jednom rukom i podigla svoju čašu sa vinom. "Pičkice rasplakane živjeli." Smijala se na vlastitu zdravicu. Stvarno je bila zarazna. Nasmijao sam se iskreno i nazdravio. Bosa se nasmijala i podigla čašu. Petra mi se stvarno sviđala imala je ono nešto i u odnosima sa prijateljima, neku prirodnu ljudsku toplinu. Dok smo pili Petra je spustila ruku sa Bose i uperila prst u mene. "Morati ćeš za večerom ispričati sve o tom pederskom motelu i što ste mislili kada ste došli tamo, hoću se dobro zabaviti." Slegoh ramenima. "Nismo mislili ništa, ja sam mislio da smo dospjeli u kuću duhova znaš ono kao "Hotel California "." Petra se valjala od smijeha. "Pederska kuća duhova, to bi bio pravi horror." Stvarno je bila zarazna. Svi smo se smijali. Iz kuhinje je dopirao miris lasagn-a, osjećao sam se ugodno. Probudio sam se prvi. Mučila me lagana glavobolja što nije bilo ni čudno nakon onog miksa vino -votka. Bio sam žedan. Ustao sam polako iz kreveta tražeći gaće. Bacio sam pogled na Bosu koja je još spavala i Petru koja je ležala sa rukom preko Bosinih ramena. Bila je polu budna. Samo mi je dala znak rukom u stilu "tiho" i zatvorila oči. Pitao sam se kakva je Petra u seksu. Možda doznam. Na kraju sam odustao od gaća, tiho otišao do kuhinje, zatvorio vrata i natočio si veliku čašu hladne vode. Ispio sam je "na eks". "Tko večera dosta vina, doručkuje vodu." Pomislio sam da ima dosta istine u tome. Polako sam tražio kavu i filtere skakućući po hladnim pločicama. Kada se ugodni miris filter kave razlio po kuhinji natočio sam si šalicu i dodao kondezirano mlijeko iz hladnjaka. Nije mi se sjedalo golom zadnjicom na stolicu ali još manje mi se stajalo na hladnim pločicama. Našao sam pepeljaru i cigarete. Nakon prvog gutljaja kave sam zapalio i osjetih se bolje. Vrata kuhinje su se polako otvorila. Petra je stajala na vratima u laganom crnom kućnom ogrtaču i ugodnim ružičastim papučama koje su imitirale patkice. Pogledala je moju golotinju kritički potom nestala. Začuo sam vrata druge spavaće sobe i minutu kasnije je bila u kuhinji. Bacila mi je u glavu kućni ogrtač i položila pred mene neke natikače. "Kava miriše dobro upravo sam razmišljala kako bi bilo dobro da netko skuha kavu kada si ti otpuzao vani." Nasula je šalicu i par žlica šećera. Ja sam pregledao onaj kućni ogrtač. Bio je plavi, ženski sintetički, sa imitacijom čipke po rubovima. Držeći ga sa dvije ruke pogledah Petru koja je sjela za stol preko puta mene. Odmjerila me kritički. "Imaš svoj ogrtač?" Odmahnuh glavom. Znala je da sam došao "sa onim na sebi". Namignula je. "Pa što čekaš? Ugodnije ti je sjediti golom zadnjicom na stolici?" Ustao sam i navukao ogrtač polako vezujući remen. Bio mi je samo "malo manji". Sjetih se da je Petra samo nepunih desetak centimetra niža od mene. Natikače su mi bile najmanje za tri broja male ali su nekako stale na moje noge. Sjeo sam i slegao ramenima. "Istina bolje je." Nasmijala se nagnula preko stola i kvrcnula me prstom po nosu. One plave oči su djelovale toplo. "Skuhao si dobru kavu." Pili smo kavu i šutali. Prošla noć je bila čudna. Večerali smo zajedno uz puno smijeha. Ispričao sam sve detalje naše pripreme i putovanja, preskačući ono o Hildi. Vino je išlo brzo tako da smo otvorili drugu bocu. Uskoro smo počeli i plesati. Par bi plesao, a "treći" je sjedio u fotelji. Nakon svake pjesme bi treći preuzimao ples, a netko bi sjeo na fotelju. Sve je bilo spontano. Otišla je još jedna boca vina. Na kraju je Petra dugo ljubila Bosu i potom rekla da ide u svoju sobu. Nestala je u zajedničkoj spavaćoj sobi, a mi smo se smjestili u onoj namijenjenoj za mene. Skinuli smo se bez riječi i zavukli u krevet. Nije trajalo dugo ali je bilo strastveno. Zaspao sam na leđima sa jednom rukom ispod pokrivača na Bosinom koljenu. Usred noći sam se naglo probudio tražeći razlog. Soba je bila osvijetljena samo žaruljom sa hodnika kroz otvorena vrata. U vratima je stajala Petra. "Ne mogu spavati sama, budim se. Mogu do Bose ako ste se vi "ispričali"?" Bio sam umoran i željan sna. Mahnuh rukom. "Upadaj samo ne hrči." Nadao sam se da sam na njemačkom točno rekao "hrči". Vrata je pustila otvorena i brzo se ubacila na krevet sa Bosine strane, tiho se smijući. Ispod pokrivača Bosa mi je nježno stisnula ruku. Prije nego se uvukla pod pokrivač i sklupčala pored Bose ,Petra se prebacila na mene preko pokrivača. Uhvatila me sa obije ruke za glavu i polako poljubila gurajući mi jezik u usta. Udijelila mi je još jednu pusu i nestala na drugoj strani kreveta, zavlačeći se pod pokrivač pored Bose. Shvatio sam poljubac kao njezin način da mi kaže "oprosti što smetam" i ništa više. Sada sam je gledao preko stola kako pije kavu. Zaključih da ta žena stvarno ima neku duboku ljudsku crtu u sebi i ne srami se pokazati je. Podigla je obrve prema meni. "Tko će odnijeti kavu Bosi?" Slegoh ramenima. "Ti si ovdje domaća, bio bi red da se ja ne "ubacujem u sklad u kući"." Ustala je i uzela čistu šalicu. Minutu kasnije je stajala na vratima kuhinje sa dvije šalice kave u ruci, smiješila se. "Dođi i ti, samo me prije pusti da ispitam Bosu kako je bilo sinoć." "Mogu ti i ja ispričati." Pokazala mi je jezik i zatvorila vrata kuhinje. Minutu kasnije sam jedva čuo žensko hihotanje kroz vrata. Zaključih da vrata spavaće sobe nisu zatvorena. Ok, završit ću cigaretu pa sa novom šalicom kave idem nazad u krevet. Možda bude smijeha. Znao sam da od "jutarnjeg seksa" nema ništa. Čudno, to mi nije smetalo. Povukao sam dim iz cigarete, a u glavi mi se motala misao "kada ne kužiš točno što se događa, pusti neka sve ide svojim tijekom, neka bude kako je suđeno". Povukao sam dim iz cigarete, a u glavi mi se motala misao "kada ne kužiš točno što se događa, pusti neka sve ide svojim tijekom, neka bude kako je suđeno". Kada Vrag sere, to radi na veliki kup Živci su me pucali i povisio sam ton preko telefona iako nisam to imao namjeru. "OK Strela, ako sam dobro razumio Aca Psina je pretukao Jovu pjesnika? Jedini razlog što je Jova na "krivom mjestu" ispričao da mi pomogao?" "Tako mi rekla Mira. Jadnik je u bolnici na Bežanijskoj Kosi, sa par šavova na svakoj strani glave." Kuhalo je u meni. "Jebem ti život, trebali smo to govno srediti prije polaska. Razbiti ga i kao svako govno razmazati po cesti!" "Ne jebi Đoni, tko je mislio na takvo što. Sredimo ga "do jaja" kada se vratimo. To neće pomoći Jovi ali će naučiti sve da ne diraju prijatelje Piksija." "U redu daj mi Škota." "Ne mogu nisam kod Goge u stanu, već kod Brune." "U ku..$..c, tko je Bruna?" "Gogina prijateljica." "Od kuda ti kod nje?" "Ispričam ti kada se vidimo i za to i za probleme sa Škotom. Zato sam i zvao." "Kakvi problemi?" "Kada se vidimo." "Nađemo se kod Goge?" "Ne bolje vani." "Znaš naći onaj restoran gdje nas Herman vodio na večeru?" "Za dva sata na ulazu tamo?" Veza se prekinula. Krenuo sam ka sobi skidajući Petrin kućni ogrtač. Sve izmiče kontroli čini se, a sve je krenulo tako dobro, pogotovu od prošle noći. Po običaju Petra je došla znatno kasnije u krevet, nakon što smo se Bosa i ja po njenoj definiciji "dovoljno ispričali". Međutim ovaj put mi nije dala samo kratki poljubac u stilu "oprosti na smetnji", kao prethodne dvije večeri. Provela je dosta vremena na meni i dopustila da je milujem. Prije nego se prebacila da Bosi da "poljubac za laku noć" nježno je nosom protrljala moj nos i rekla jedno kratko "sviđaš mi se". Dok je ljubila Bosu osjetih Bosinu ruku na svojoj. Stisnula mi je jako ruku. Nakon poljupca sa Petrom dala je i meni poljubac za laku noć. Zaspao sam sa nekim čudnim mirom i osjećajem da se ponekad isplati "pustiti stvari koje ne razumiješ da idu svojim tijekom". Nema me dva dana i nešto pukne. Neka ide k vragu, Škot nikada nije "pucao po šavovima" i bio je na neki način duh ekipe, što sada Strela priča. Nisam navikao da bilo što izuzev "poslovne strane" u ekipi ovisi o meni. Navukao sam traperice i čizme i pošao u kupaonu tražiti majicu koja se sušila. Još je bila malo vlažna od pranja ali navukoh je. Osušiti će se do kraja na meni. Ionako sam mislio otići po stvari do Goge i objasniti situaciju ali bez ikakvih detalja. Sada moram prvo vidjeti Strelu, glas mu nije zvučao dobro. Izgledalo je kao da i mene optužuje za nešto. Vratio sam se u kuhinju i provjerio lonac sa grahom koji sam kuhao. Činilo se da je završen. Isključih ploču štednjaka. OK cure imaju ručak na stolu kada se vrate sa posla. Sa žaljenjem vratih poklopac na mjesto, mirisao je dobro ali sada nisam imao vremena da provjerim kakav je. Jebeni problemi. Nisam tražio ništa ni od koga, nisam očekivao ništa na pladnju, samo sam želio da me "gnjavatori" zaobiđu i da živim ono što mogu. Na kraju se ipak uvijek pojavi nešto, a to nešto obično dolazi u obliku sranja jakog smrada koje ti pljusnu u lice. Slegoh ramenima dok sam navlačio jaknu. "Live is Life" ide ona pjesma. MZ je startao bez problema. Iz nekog razloga sam želio vidjeti Strelin ČZ. Dok sam se spuštao niz stube i išao prema garaži bilo mi je jasno da se Škot čudno ponašao od one večeri kada je počeo sa Gogom. Škot je bio sve prije nego "kujin sin", sve godine, gdje je problem? Strela je motao cigaretu, čekao sam da počne ispijajući gutljaj piva iz limenke. Bilo je to neko čudno pivo ali pasalo je. Strela je očigledno, uz put, u trgovini kupio dvije limenke naj jeftinijeg piva. Sjedeli smo na nekoj klupi promatrajući jezero i ponekog kupača. Uglavnom starije gospođe u prolazu su zagledale naše motore. Jebi ga kod njih je to bilo "malo neobično komunističko vozilo". Konačno sam čuo "klik" imitacije ZIPP-a kojom je Strela zapalio cigaretu. Pogledah ga upitno. Slegao je ramenima u stilu "kako početi". "Đoni ti si one večeri otišao i nisi se više javio niti subotu niti nedjelju. Molio sam Gogu da mi da broj telefona i nazvao te." Osjetih se sramotno. Subotu sam proveo sa curama u kupovini i obilasku okolice. Mislio sam nazvati Gogu i pitati za situaciju ali zaboravih sve. Upao sam u neki čudni novi svijet. Djelovalo je da "nas troje" savršeno funkcioniramo. Sve je bilo opušteno, ugodno i veselo. Toliko dobro da sam i nedjelju zaboravio na telefon. Plan da se javim i pokupim stvari od Goge te se dogovorim sa Strelom i Škotom za daljnji kontakt odložio sam za ponedjeljak. Cure su otišle na posao, a ja sam mislio nazvati kasnije. Nisam stigao, javio se Strela. "Jebi ga Strela. Svatko ponekada bude "kujin sin". Ovaj put sam to bio ja. Mislio sam da ste OK, a za petak večer ste imali dogovor sa Goginom ekipom računao sam da je i subota .... " Zastao sam i slegao ramenima. "Serem, oprosti dogodilo se ponešto i sjebao sam sve. Ispričam ti kasnije detalje. Zanima me što je sa Škotom? Kakav problem?" Pogledao me onim svojim smeđim očima i polako popio gutljaj piva. Povukao je dim iz cigarete. "Đoni Škot puca. Moram krenuti redom." Gledao je ili u mene ili na jezero dok je pričao. U kratkim crtama ispričao je da je petak večer prošao super. Goga je pozvala dvije prijateljice i kolegu sa posla. Nijemac, Karlo, je bio uglađeni ugodni četrdeseto godišnjak, a cure prosječna izgleda i vesele Goginih godina, zvale su se Bruna i Isold. Ostali su skoro do jutra. Strela je tijekom večeri počeo diskretno udvaranje Bruni. Sve je prošlo dobro. Nije imao neke namjere ali je to odradio "sporta radi". Na kraju su se ljubili. Škot je tijekom cijele večeri gledao u Gogu. Goga se prije izlaska presvukla u crnu varijantu. Čipkaste samostojeće čarape, cipele visoke pete, svilenu bluzu i suknju sa izrezom koji je pri svakom koraku pokazivao završetak čarapa na nozi i bijelu kožu natkoljenice. Škot je od početka djelovao opsjednut. Problemi su krenuli slijedećeg jutra. Strela je već zakazao Bruni drugo viđenje za subotu popodne. Jutro se malo izležavao potom navukao traperice i majicu te krenuo u dnevni boravak i kuhinju, na kavu. Otvorio je vrata dnevnog boravka normalno kao i svako jutro. Goga je gola služila kavu Škotu. Na nogama je imala crne sandale visoke potpetice sa kožnim trakama, koje su dosezale do koljena. Škot je gol sjedio u fotelji. Pogledala ga je bez uzbuđenja i samo rekla "Dobro jutro." Škot je reagirao živčano. Spustio je šalicu sa kavom i skoro se izderao. "K vragu znaš li kucati prije ulaska?" Strela se ispričao i krenuo natrag u spavaću sobu. Škot ga je pozvao da se vrati. Dok je ulazio Goga se polako njišući kukovima uputila pored njega u spavaću sobu. Mimo volje morao je pogledati, iako se trudio gledati u pod. Škot ga je samo mrko pogledao i ispričao se "za reakciju". Ostao je skroz gol sjedeti na fotelji. Znali smo i prije između sebe biti neformalni. Presvlačiti se, skidati kupaće kako bi navukli druge suhe ili slično. Međutim nikada nismo imali običaj skroz goli sjedeti skupa u sobi, čak ni nakon burnih noći i jutarnje glavobolje koja je pitala tuš hladnom vodom. Strela se našao u glupoj poziciji. Sve mu je postalo još gore kada se Goga vratila u nekom Čipkastom ogrtaču koji je u biti više pokazivao nego skrivao još uvijek je nosila one sandale. Gledala je u Škota ne obraćajući pažnju na Strelu. Škot je i dalje gledao u Gogu kao u "čudo erotike". Počeli su se ljubiti i Škotu se "digao". Strela je uzeo šalicu sa kavom i vratio se u spavaću sobu. Popio je kavu i počekao još pola sata. Nakon toga je pokucao na vrata dnevnog boravka. Škot mu je rekao da uđe. Ušao je polako i oprezno. Škot i Goga su sjedili u fotelji goli, izuzev onih sandala na Gogi. Goga je sjedila Škotu u krilu. Strela nije gledao u njihovom pravcu, samo je rekao da bi išao vani i da se dogovore oko večerašnjeg izlaska. Škot ga je pogledao, dok mu Goga palila cigaretu, potom odbrusio. "Stornirali smo sve izlaske danas i sutra, ostajemo u krevetu." Potom je pogledao Gogu. "Imaš još jedan ključ od stana?" Klimnula je glavom. "Imam ali je to treći i zadnji. Jedan sam dala Đoniju kada smo došli." Škot je pljesnuo po zadnjici. "Donesi mi." Goga je ponovno otišla do spavaće sobe. Strela je gledao u zemlju. Goga se vratila i dala ključ Škotu. Škot je zazviždao kroz usne i dobacio ključ Streli. "Sada si opremljen. Prouči grad i ne upadaj bez kucanja kada se vratiš." Strela je klimnuo glavom i pitao Gogu za Brunin broj telefona, nespretno je objasnio "da su se dogovorili". Goga je klimnula glavom ponovno gola odnjihala do torbe izvadila kemijsku i rokovnik. Prišla mu je i pružila papirić uz smiješak. "Vjerojatno ćeš već večeras biti u njenom potkrovlju." Namignula mu je i vratila se kod Škota u krilo. "Kada sam sjeo na motor osjetio sam olakšanje. Skužio sam da sam izašao samo u majici ali mi se nije vraćalo. Osjećao sam da ne bi bilo poželjno da se vratim u stan, ako je to moguće. Nisam znao ni gdje si ni što radiš, niti što bih ja radio, jednostavno sam startao i krenuo nekamo, da popijem još jednu kavu i razmislim." Strela me pogledao i ugasio cigaretu. Shvaćao sam ga savršeno. Ja sam nestao, a smještaj i preostali prijatelj su postali neugodni. Izvadio sam kutiju Luckey Strike i ponudio ga. Zapalili smo i popili još malo piva. Na jezeru u plitkoj vodi neka starija žena je učila curicu da pliva. Držala je ispod trbuha stojeći u vodi do pasa dok je curica mahala nogama i rukama i smijala se. "Produlji Strela, gdje si spavao i što je bilo dalje." Dobar dio dana proveo je u dva tržna centra potom pojeo Hot Dog i nazvao Brunu. Može jedva čeka, rekla je, ali može tek na večer. Dogovorili su mjesto sastanka. Ulaz u isti disko bar od sinoć. Strela je imao vremena. Put do tog bara je znao. Bio je samo u majici, a sjetio se da su večeri ovdje svježe. Odlučio je otići do stana po jaknu. Polako je otključao i uvukao se u "našu" spavaću sobu. Pokupio je jaknu i krenuo vani. Naletio je na Škota. Škot je bio samo u trapericama bos. Udario ga rukom po ramenu i povukao ka dnevnom boravku. "Izvini malo sam pretjerao, dođi da popijemo piće." Strela je krenuo za Škotom i smjestio se na fotelju. Goga je došla iz kuhinje u nekoj plavoj kućnoj haljini od frotira. Još je nosila one sandale. Stavila je dva piva na stolić, kao da je već sve bilo dogovoreno. Pogledala ga je i pitala da li bi nešto jeo. Strela je odmahnuo glavom. Za trenutak sve je bilo po starom. Ono od jutros je smatrao "neugodnom situacijom". Polako su popili pivo i pričali, rekao je da se ide naći sa Brunom i pitao da li sam zvao. Škot je odmahnuo glavom potom prokomentirao. "I ja sam se malo brinuo u jednom trenutku, ali da je u frci već bi nam se javio, budi bez brige." Tada je zazvonio telefon. Goga se javila i zalupila slušalicu. Vratila se blijeda. Škot je pogledao. "Onaj kreten?" Klimnula je glavom stisnutih usana. Škot je postao živčan. Prijetio je da će "razbiti pedera" i nasaditi ga na prvu ogradu. Skužio je da je Gogin bivši ponovno zvao. Škot se uskoro smirio. Strela je napustio stan i osjećao se bolje. Bruna je na mjesto sastanka došla na nekom skuteru. Popili su piće i zajedno vozili po Hamburgu dok mu je ona pokazivala što bi trebao vidjeti. Večerali su u nekoj Pizzeri i završili u Bruninom malenom stanu u potkrovlju. Za kratko je pustio sve probleme, izgledalo je ok. Pogledao sam ga i ubacio praznu limenku pive u košaricu malo dalje od klupe. Strela je samo prokomentirao. "Dobar pogodak." Uzdahnuo sam. "Drago mi je zbog tebe ali nastavi. Gdje je zapelo sa Škotom?" Posegao je za kutijom Luckey Strike, koju sam pustio između nas, i zapalio novu cigaretu. "Bruna mi predložila da mogu ostati par dana kod nje. Nazvao sam Gogu i rekao da bih ostao malo kod Brune ali ako ne smetam dolazim popodne po stvari. Komentirala je samo "Super"." Udahnuo je duboko dim i popio pivo do kraja. Nije uspio pogoditi košaricu, limenka se otkotrljala par metara. Slegao je ramenima. "Pokupiću je poslije. Znači došao sam u stan i otključao. Škot i Goga su sjedeli u foteljama u dnevnom boravku. Vrata su bila otvorena, nisam gledao i samo sam im mahnuo. Škot mi mahnuo da uđem. On je sjedio u nekom novom kućnom ogrtaču, a Goga samo u nečem, što ja znam, čarapa tijelo ili hulahopke za cijelo tijelo. Bile su prozirne i nisam gledao u njenom pravcu. Škot je bio blago pijan, boca votke i čaše su stajali na stoliću. Pokazao mi da sjednem na trosjed i gurnuo bocu prema meni. Rekao je da potegnem. Otpio sam iz boce pogledao ga, nazdravio mi je sa čašicom." Strela je povukao duboko dim cigarete i pogledao me u oči. "Znaš Đoni to više nije bio Škot. Bio je neobrijan i raščupan sa podočnjacima. Vjerojatno su dosta pili, prazna boca viskija je bila pored stolića. Pogledao me i rekao: "Lud sam." Zašto? Upitah ga, samo me pogledao. "Onaj Gogin luđak ponovno zove raspravljali smo se telefonom, a i neke odluke me muče." Koje? A za luđaka možete nazvati policiju, ili ga mi do polaska nazad možemo "urazumiti", ne bi nam bilo prvi put da imamo posla sa luđacima. Mislio sam da se malo smiri i opusti. Samo me čudno pogledao. Kada je počeo govorio je vrlo polako gledajući mimo mene, Đoni rekao je slijedeće: "Nije tako jednostavno, Goga bi mogla imati problema na poslu ako zovemo policiju taj lik poznaje pola uprave u Goginoj firmi, a i ne znam da li se vraćam nazad. Najvjerojatnije ostajem sa Gogom." Strela je završio i gledao me u oči. Polako sam posegao za novom cigaretom i zapalio je. Ustao sam i otišao do one limenke od piva koju je Strela bacio. Dugo sam je prstima gnječio, potom je ubacio u košaricu. Sredio sam se. Pogledao sam Strelu. "OK to je bilo jučer. Navratimo danas zajedno do stana i popričamo sa Škotom. Imaš mi još nešto reći u svezi istog?" Polako se digao sa klupe i petom ugasio čik. Slegao je ramenima. "Ništa pitao sam za tebe i Goga je nevoljko ustala i otišla nazvati Bosu, čekala je pored telefona potom spustila slušalicu i nešto napisala na papiriću. Kada se vratila pružila mi papirić i rekla da se nitko ne javlja ali da mogu nazvati sam kasnije. Što sam mogao, pokupio sam stvari i otišao do Brune. Dok sam izlazio rekao sam da ću se javiti, Škot nije ništa odgovorio. Dok sam se vraćao do Brune navratio sam do jedne telefonske i javio se Miri. Da je malo čujem i smirim, rekla mi je to za Jovu. Ostalo znaš." Sjetih se da smo jučer bili na malom izletu u planine i nekom lokalnom bazenu, ovdje je skoro svako selo imalo neki svoj bazen. Bilo mi je neugodno. Pljesnuh ga po ramenu. "Već je pet. Idemo do Goge. Razmislim uz put pa popričamo sa Škotom. Ti uvijek možeš sa mnom do Bose dok ne krenemo nazad." Krenuli smo ka motorima. Škot želi obračun sa Goginim bivšim uz to ima namjeru ostati u Hamburgu, Aca je pretukao Jovu. Tri zajebana problema, ima li ih još? Sjetih se što je moj djed znao govoriti kada se pojavi više problema, običavao je reći "Kada vrag sere, to radi na veliki kup". Dok smo sjedali na motore Strela je mahnuo rukom. Polako je nogama dogurao motor do moga, ja sam čekao sa kacigom na rezervoaru. Slegao je ramenima. "Ne bih volio da misliš da se izvlačim od nečega ali mislim da je bolje da odeš sam. Tebe uvijek nekako sasluša, a pitanje ako budem i ja tamo koliko je spreman za razgovor, jednostavno čudan je." Malo sam razmišljao gledajući u kacigu. Potom klimnuh glavom. "Imaš pravo, možda bolje da to sa Škotom obavim sam, tebi je svoje rekao." Gledao sam ga trenutak i osjetio grickanje savjesti što se nisam javio ta dva dana. "Odluči ako želiš možeš poslije sa mnom do Bose. Bosa i Petra su super cure neće biti problema. Kada si zvao mislio sam da neka od njih zove sa posla. Bosa je rekla da se slobodno koristim telefonom i javljam na telefon. Vidjet ćeš da su OK." Strela je odmahnuo glavom i nasmiješio se. "Hvala Đoni, znam da me ti ne bi pustio samog ali rekao sam jučer u jutro, uz kavu, Bruni sve. I da se vraćam i da imam curu doma, a da ovo ne shvaća ozbiljno. Samo me pogledala i rekla da nije važno, dok traje traje ili tako nešto, znaš moj engleski. Rekla je i da mogu ostati po želji ako ostanem tako pažljiv. Nije lijepa niti posebno zgodna ali je vrlo ugodna osoba. Ako bude trebalo javim ti i dođem. Sada idem nazad do Brune" Klimnuo sam glavom. Pljesnuli smo "daj mi pet" i Strela je navukao kacigu i startao. Mahnuh mu rukom da me ne čeka. Kada je otišao sjedio sam još malo na motoru. Polako sam navukao kacigu. Škot je bio neka vrsta duhovnog i djelom pravog vođe ekipe. Bit će to težak razgovor. Polako sam navukao kacigu. Škot je bio neka vrsta duhovnog i djelom pravog vođe ekipe. Bit će to težak razgovor. Polako sam odložio čašicu sa votkom na stolić i pogledao Škota. "Žao mi je što se nisam javio ali ukratko sam ti objasnio zašto je bilo tako. Možeš mi sada malo pojasniti neke stvari?" Goga me nervozno odmjerila i digla se sa fotelje. Odnjihala je kukovima u pravcu kuhinje. Pogledao sam umorno za njom. Nosila je samo kratke kožne hlače čipkaste hulahopke sandale visoke potpetice i kožni grudnjak. Škot je podigao čašu sa viskijem i slegao ramenima. "Pitaj?" Pogledao sam ga u oči. Bio je blijed sa tamnim alkoholnim podočnjacima. "Kada možemo planirati povratak? Ili možda idemo još nekamo prije toga?" Odmahnuo je glavom. "Mislio sam vam to objasniti ali ne vraćam se." Gledao me nekim tvrdim pogledom. "Ostajem ovdje Đoni. Ne želim natrag u ono naše sivilo soc realizma, poluprazne trgovine i društvene firme u kojima je jedino bitno od kada imaš partijsku knjižicu, a ne što znaš i koliko dobro radiš." Odmahnuo je glavom. "Ne interesiraju me više ni one naše krave od cura kojima je jedini cilj da se zaposle i čim prije udaju kako bi ostvarile cilj života. Ostajem sa Gogom." Ispio je čašu jednim potezom do kraja i odmahnuo glavom. Polako sam izvadio cigaretu iz kutije i zapalio je. "OK tvoja odluka ali ipak se vratimo doma pa sve objasniš svojima i završiš nezavršene poslove?" Pogledao me pomalo divlje i oštro. "Ne vraćam se Đoni. Bilo bi previše frke, moji bi me pokušali zadržati, a ne bi mogli. Obasnit ću im ovih dana preko telefona kao i Ljilji." Povukoh dim iz cigarete. Trebalo mi je malo da se sredim. Pogledah ga u oči. "Ne misliš li da bi trebao sve to obaviti oči u oči pa bez obzira na gnjavažu i cijenu koju moraš platiti?" Odmahnuo je glavom. "Ne seri Đoni. Ti i tvoje poimanje časti. Koga briga kako mu priopćiš da više nije dio tvog života? Ako ti je tako žao Ljilje možeš je i tješiti što se mene tiče. Može i Strela uz Miru malo utješiti istu samo ne znam kako bi oženio obje po našim zakonima." Odmahnuo je glavom i kiselo se nasmiješio. "Znaš Đoni Ljilji je jedino bitno da dođe do pristojnog muškarca za brak i za to će učiniti sve. Dalje od toga i djece je ne zanima, nema mašte ništa ne poduzima sama, moram joj sve reći i objasniti zašto je to erotika." Zastao je i dopunio čašu sa viskijem potom otpio gutljaj. "Goga je drugo. Ujedno ovdje u svojoj struci mogu i pristojno zaraditi voziti pristojan auto i pristojan motor uz to i pristojno živjeti. Sve to mojima ne bih mogao normalno objasniti i njih samo zanima kada ću se zaposliti i kada ću se oženiti. Ljilji ne bih imao što reći izuzev da je krava. Mislim da je bolje sve to ne raditi." Goga je donjihala kukovima iz kuhinje i stavila tanjur sa šunkom i sirom pred nas. Potom je polako sjela na fotelju preko puta mene i prekrižila noge. Gledala me ljubazno ali sam osjetio jezu na potiljku. U tom pogledu je bilo nešto zmijsko. Polako je nasula čašicu votke i otpila. Kada je progovorila bilo je to tihim ugodnim glasom. "Đoni ostaješ spavati ovdje ili se vraćaš u ono lezbijsko gnijezdo kod Bose?" Pogledao sam je u oči. Vidio sam samo prazninu i ništa više. Takav pogled sam susretao kod osoba koje su imale jasan cilj u glavi i nisu prezale ni pred čim da ga ostvare. Pitanje je bilo previše otrovno, nije mi bilo jasno zašto i kako joj se Bosa zamjerila. Duboko sam udahnuo. "Mislim da ostajem kod Bose, a cure su OK i ne bih volio komentirati njihov način života. To je njihova stvar meni to ne smeta." Onaj zmijski pogled ponovno je bljesnuo prema meni. "Možda su OK samo zato što im treba dobra zamjena za vibrator pa ..." Škot je živčano mahnuo rukom prema Gogi. "Dosta pusti Đonija na miru. Neke smo stvari ti i ja raspravili i drži se dogovora." Okrenuo je glavu prema meni. "Đoni ti i Škot uvijek ste nam dobrodošli samo ne zamjeri Goga i ja smo malo napeti radi njenog bivšeg pa stvari nekada djeluju čudno. Uostalom idemo jesti dovoljno smo popili." Posegnuo je za jednom od tri vilice pored tanjura i istom dohvatio komad tvrdog sira. Dok je ubacivao sir u usta odmahnuo je glavom. Posegnuo sam za drugom vilicom iz jednostavnog razloga da dobijem na vremenu i smirim se. Polako sam žvakao komad švarcvald šunke i šutao. Čekao sam da stvari same krenu dalje. Nakon par minuta šutnje i žvakanja Goga je odmahnula glavom. "Đoni žao mi je nisam te željela povrijediti. Mislim da bi nam malo hladne cole svima pasalo." Odnjihala je kukovima prema kuhinji. Pogledah Škota. Nevoljko je žvakao. "Škot uzet ću par svojih stvari i čujemo se za dan dva. Budemo svi pametniji tada." Pogledao me i klimnuo glavom. "Može Đoni u pravu si, budemo malo pametniji." Goga se vratila iz kuhinje sa bocom coca cole i tri čaše. Pažljivo je natočila. Otpio sam gutljaj dva cole i digao se sa trosjeda. "Idem do sobe uzeti par svojih stvari i čujemo se sutra ili najkasnije prekosutra. Može?" Škot je klimnuo glavom, a Goga mi se nasmiješila. Polako sam krenuo do "naše muške" sobe. Kada sam pokupio stvari i vratio ključ Škot me otpratio do motora. Goga mi je uputila samo hladno "Ciao" i brzi pogled, kao da joj je na neki način laknulo što odlazim. Škot mi je stavio ruku na rame kada smo izašli iz zgrade i polako hodao pored mene do motora. "Đoni ne zamjeri mi ništa molim te. Ako sam i bio neugodan ponekada ovih dana nije mi bilo lako donijeti odluku. Znaš Goga je ipak nešto posebno i sve mi se posložilo ovih dana." Kada sam se nasmiješio i klimnuo glavom spustio je ruku. "Sve u redu Škot nazvat ću te za dan dva pa se svi okupimo na kavi negdje i dogovorimo detalje." Odmahnuo je glavom. "Vrata su vam uvijek otvorena, raširio je ruke, dođite kad god želite, samo se malo najavite da ne budemo u nezgodnoj situaciji." Završio je sa osmjehom. Polako sam završio sa pričvršćivanjem torbe na prtljažnik i uspravio se. Pogledao sam ga u oči. "Škot sretno ma što želio učiniti. Vidimo se." Kada sam počeo skidati kacigu sa upravljača pljesnuo me po ramenu okrenu se i otišao. Gledao sam za njim dok nije nestao iza ulaznih vrata zgrade. Hodao je nekako usiljeno opušteno. Navukao sam kacigu zajahao i startao motor. Slijedila je vožnja do Bose i Petre, a dan je već bio pri kraju. Pogledao sam nebo. Prvi znaci večeri su se već pojavljivali. Nisam volio provlačenje kroz ovu gradsku gužvu u njemačkoj, a pogotovu u uvjetima mog slabog poznavanja grada i ceste. Udahnuo sam i ubacio u prvu. Više od sat i pol kasnije uspio sam pronaći pravo skretanje ka Bosinom stanu. Polako sam parkirao ispred ulaza. Auto je bio parkiran kao znak da su se cure vratile. Oslobodio sam torbu sa prtljažnika potom našao ključ u džepu. Bacio sam torbu na rame i prišao vratima. Nije se ništa čulo. Otključao sam i ušao. Prvo što sam uočio bile su dvije velike prazne kartonske kutije u hodniku. Zaputih se ka otvorenim vratima dnevnog boravka. Bosa je sjedila u fotelji, između dvije gomile vrećica razbacanih po podu, pijuckajući nešto iz čašice, a Petra je sjedila na stolici u kutu. Na glavi je imala integralnu moto kacigu srebrne boje vidljivo par brojeva veću. Na računalnom stoliću ispred nje je stajao PC kompjuter i tipkovnica. Na ekranu monitora prepoznah popularnu računalnu igru pucačine "space dragons". Upucavala je nadolazeće vanzemaljce i imitirala glas iz radio uređaja. "Misija zove zemlju, za sada ih držimo na odstojanju ali oni nadiru molim upute kako da ih popiiiiiškimo." Pogledah Bosu i nasmiješih se pokazujući glavom na Petru. Odgovorila mi je širokim osmijehom i slijeganjem ramenima odmahujući glavom u stilu "ludo stvorenje što ćeš". Spustih torbu i pazeći na razbacane vrećice različitih trgovina po podu priđoh Bosi. Nagnuo sam se i udijelio pusu. Malo me zagrlila i pljesnula po glavi. "Kuda si se smucao danas?" Slegoh ramenima. "Pričat ću ti imao sam razgovor sa Strelom pa sa Škotom i trenutno mi treba samo pi….." "BLAM BLAAAM!" Glas iza mojih leđa je bio Petrin, polako se okrenuh. Stajala je sa kacigom na glavi i imitirala rukom ispruženom prema meni pištolj, po svoj prilici svemirski sudeći po zvuku koji je proizvodila. Polako je imitirala vraćanje pištolja za pojas. "Halo misija zove bazu upravo smo zrakom niske energije ošamutili čudnu nesređenu izluđenu nezemaljsku formu života, sada je idem detaljnije proučiti." Skinula je kacigu i preskočila dvije vrećice prema meni. Gledala me sa smiješkom. "Kupile smo PC na rasprodaji za mene, a ovo za tebe." Pružila mi je kacigu. Čim sam je prihvatio osjetih da je dosta lakša od moje istočno njemačke koju sam pustio u hodniku. Vizir se podizao elegantnim pokretom umjesto ona tri drukera na koje se zakopčavao vizir na mojoj. Nasmiješih se prema Petri. "Hvala upravo takvo nešto sam imao namjeru nabaviti." Nasmiješila se malo podigla glavu i napućila usne pokazujući prstom prema istim. Nagnuh se i udijelih joj pusu. Nasmijali smo se. Polako sam sjeo na trosjed. Petra je nestala u pravcu kuhinje. Odložio sam kacigu pored sebe i pogledao Bosu. Odmahnula je glavom. "Ma što ti se dogodilo nije ugodno, izgledaš jako iscrpljeno." Nastojao sam odgovoriti smiješkom. "Škot je prolupao od kada se spetljao sa Gogom. Odlučio je ostati u Njemačkoj sa njom. Nije to problem već se ne želi ni vratiti i raščistiti sa svojima i sada već bivšom curom. Kao da Goga ima neku magiju nad njim." Bosa me pažljivo fiksirala u oči. "Nije to tako strašno, više nego dovoljno je odrastao, a njegovi odnosi sa okolicom roditeljima i curom su samo njegova stvar. Što se tiče Goge vjeruj mi ima neku moć i to ne samo nad njim." Ispila je ostatak visoke čašice do kraja. Petra se pojavila i spustila na stol pladanj sa bocom Tequile slanikom, zdjelicom sa kriškama limuna i dvije čašice. Sklonila je kacigu i sjela do mene. "Moramo nazdraviti za moj prvi PC, Bosa je već počela čim smo se vratile ali ja još nisam. Eeeee onaj grah ti odlično miriše pa sam uključila da se podgrije. Sada idemo na zdravicu. Znaš piti tequilu?" Dok je pričala nasula je do vrha sve tri čašice i stavila po krišku limuna na svaku. Klimnuh glavom liznuh malo nadlanicu i pružih prema njoj. Podigla je slanik i istresla malo soli na moju potom Bosinu nadlanicu, sebi je istresla direktno u usta. Liznuli smo sol i podigli čašice u znak zdravice potom ih istresosmo "na eks". Polako sam sisao krišku limuna i stavio praznu čašicu pred Petru. Bosa je učinila isto. Nakon druge čašice izvadih cigaretu gledajući u Bosu. "Goga je živjela sa vama kada je došla u njemačku?" Pogledala me začuđeno. "Nikada to nisi pitao do sada. Da živjela je sa nama skoro godinu i pol dok se nije sredila i materijalno i psihološki." "U kakvoj ste vezi bili?" Sada me već pogledala oštrije. "Ni u kakvoj." Posegnula je za mojom kutijom cigareta i izvukla jednu. "Bambi to je duga priča Goga nije ono za što vam se predstavlja ali nećemo sada nema potrebe." Odmahnula je glavom. "Pusti sve to i opusti se malo ne ideš sutra ima dana rzjasnit ćemo sve polako." Djelovala je uznemireno pa sam ušutao. "Govorite njemački inače se osjećam izolirano. I pominjete Goga Goga pa što sa njom?" Petrin glas me vratio u ravnotežu. Bosa je pogleda i nasmiješi se. "Upravo otkriva neke detalje o Gogi ali pustit ćemo to večeras nakon kupnje sam previše dobre volje da se bavim glupostima." Bosa je prebacila na Njemački. Petra se samo nasmiješila potom me bocnula kažiprstom u rame uopće ne gledajući u mene. "Kupile smo ti još nešto samo da znaš." Nastojao sam napraviti radoznao izraz lica. "Što reci mi, reci mi moolim te?" Polako je ustala i trijumfalno me pogledala. "Gaćice i grudnjak sve u čipki stajat će ti suuuper." Počela je tražiti po vrećicama i vratila se sa pružajući mi jednu crnu manju. Pitao sam se da li su stvarno unutra gaćice i grudnjak Petra je djelovala dovoljno "otkačeno" da mi i kupi tako nešto. Pažljivo je otvorih. Polako sam izvadio crnu majicu sa slikom lubanje i chopper motora potom široki kožni kaubojski remen koji je imao metalnu kopču u obliku lubanje bika. Crna koža i sjajna kopča su izgledale odlično. Polako podigoh ruku i poslah jednu zračnu pusu Petri potom Bosi. Bosa se smijala. "Kaciga je bila moja ideja bile su na rasprodaji, a remen i majicu je našla Petra." Petra je krenula prema kuhinji. "Idemo jesti poslije filozofirajte o toj kuji Gogi." Odlučio sam ništa ne pitati polako sam se podigao prekoračio torbu koju sam pustio i krenuo ka kuhinji i blagavaoni. Bosa se polako provlačila između vrećica potom me potapšala po leđima. "Ne idemo nikuda pa skini te traperice jako su prljave bacit ću ih u perilicu. Imaš druge?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Rezervne sam potrošio na putu do ovdje, a nikako da kupim jedne. Budem narednih dana." "Nema veze nakon večere skidaj trapke i pod tuš poslije možeš i bez njih idu u perilicu. Ujutro će biti već skoro suhe." Petra je postavljala tanjure na stol. "Možeš i sada skinuti traperice pa navučeš samo čizme i večeraš, nama bude zanimljivo." Počela se smijati. Pogledah Bosu, pokazujući glavom ka Petri, potom uzvratih pazeći da ne zaboravim govoriti njemački. "Ona bi i u prometnoj nesreći, koja joj se dogodi, našla vedru stranu." Petra se smijala vadeći pivo iz hladnjaka. Polako sam se zavukao pod pokrivač u spavaćoj sobi. Čekao sam uobičajeni ritual da cure obave neki razgovor dok peru zube potom da Bosa dođe prva u krevet. Osjećao sam se umorno i nije mi se dalo preći na drugu stranu kreveta i isključiti noćnu lampu. Pasalo mi je samo ležati. Vrata su se polako otvorila, nisam otvarao oči čekao sam Bosu da legne pored mene i da se počnemo ljubiti. Legla je na mene. Otvorio sam oči i ugledao Petrine oči i nosić. Poljubila me. "Večeras igramo drugačije." Smiješila se. "Želim te nešto pitati. Zašto te Bosa zove Bambi?" Polako je zagrlih sa obije ruke. "To mi je bio nadimak dobar dio mladosti. Kada smo bili u školi vodili su nas da gledamo crtić Bambi. Kada je bila scena u kojoj lovci ubiju Bambijevu mamu ja sam počeo plakati, tako su me prozvali Bambi." Poljubila me dugo i nježno. "Izgledaš grubo ponašaš se grubo ali imaš dušu i osjećaje. Ne skrivaj ih." Đoni, samo hrabro. Zabavi nas u ove hladnije dane. Nisam nikad vjerovao da postoji bajker-pisac, ali evo. :aplauz: Đoni, samo hrabro. Zabavi nas u ove hladnije dane. Nisam nikad vjerovao da postoji bajker-pisac, ali evo. :aplauz: Hvala Dr. ovaj put neće biti duljih pauza nadam se "Izgledaš grubo ponašaš se grubo ali imaš dušu i osjećaje. Ne skrivaj ih." Polako sam skrenuo na parking benzinske crpke. Prebaci sam u prvu i malo dodao gas držeći motor više na kvačilu. Uočio sam Strelu na kraju parkinga. Stajao je pored svog motora. Cura do njega je djelovala simpatično. Niža punašna plavuša. Preko ramena je jednom rukom držala ruksak. Pretpostavlajo sam da je to Bruna. Dok sam im polako prilazio uočio sam crveni skuter do Strelinog ČZ-a. Na upravljaču skutera je visjela šarena kaciga. Ubacih se do skutera i ugasih motor. Dok sam silazio Strela je nešto govorio curi. Polako sam skinuo kacigu i prišao im. Strela se nasmiješio. "Imaš novu kacigu i to dobru kako vidim?" Okrenuo se prema curi i nasmiješio. Započeo je na svom tarzan engleskom. "Ovo je Đoni, Đoni ovo je Bruna." Nasmješih se i rukovah sa curom. Ispod plave kose su me promatrala dva plava oka vražićka. Nasmijala se i klimnula glavom. "Drago mi je." Klimnuh glavom prema skuteru. Klimnula je. "Moj i samo moj najdraži skuter." Iako je to izgovorila uz osmjeh i mirno imala je nešto od one Petrine otkačenosti u sebi. "Koja je marka? Koliko ima kubika?" Pazio sam da govorim engleski radi Strele čiji njemački je bio na minimalnom nivou. "Kupila sam ga rabljenog, kada sam ga kupovala imao je 80 ccm, nasmiješila se, sada možda ima jedan do dva ccm više. Inače Yamaha city cv 80, a zovu ga još i Beluga." Slegla je ramenima i pljesnula me po podlaktici. "Ako si završio sa inspekcijom najvažnije stvari u vašim životima idemo na kavu i kolače, na ovoj benzinskoj su najbolji kolači, a nisu skupi." Pogledah Strelu i nasmiješih se, namignuo mi je u stilu "sve ok stari sviđaš joj se". Polako smo krenuli ka kafiću. Odabrali smo stol u kutu. Bruna je odmah naručila tri velike kave sa mlijekom i tri komada torte sa sirom i orasima. Način na koji je komunicirala sa konobaricom je ukazivao da se znaju od prije. Polako sam smotao cigaretu od Samson kupovnog duhana. Zamjetih da je i Strela motao isti duhan. Dok sam mu palio cigaretu upitah. "Nestalo ti rezervi duhana?" Klimnuo je glavom. "Mislim da sam pustio dvije trećine u onoj vrećici u sobi uzeo sam samo jedan dio zalihe koliko sam mislio da mi pripada. Ti nisi uzimao ništa?" Pljucnuo sam listić duhana i odmahnuo glavom. "Bilo je previše neugodno sa Gogom tako da sam samo pokupio svoje stvari u torbu i zgibao van. Ostala je i kamp oprema i sve rezerve." Konobarica je donijela kolače i kavu te tri čaše vode. Dok je odlazila namignula je Bruni. Posegoh za čašom i otpih gutljaj. Bruna se odmah bacila na kolač. Polazeći od načina na koji je jela vidjelo se da uživa u slatkišima. To je vjerojatno i objašnjavalo onih par kilograma viška. Strela je otpio gutljaj kave i povukao dim iz cigarete. "Kako je prošao razgovor sa Škotom?" Odmahnuh glavom i posegoh za šalicom kave. "Nikako, definitivno kako je rekao ostaje i to od sada pa nadalje, ne želi se čak ni vratiti i popričati sa svojima i Ljiljom. Sranje, objašnjenja će pasti na nas kada se vratimo. Ponaša se kao da je na nekoj drogi." Škot je već jeo onaj kolač sa sirom preko zalogaja je dobacio. "Na drogi zvanoj Goga. Što misliš da je pametno za nas od sada dalje?" Čekao sam dok nije progutao zalogaj i otpio malo kave. Dok je posezao za upaljenom cigaretom u pepeljari slegoh ramenima. "Mislim da je naj pametnije da ostanemo još sedam do deset dana maksimalno. U tom razdoblju pustimo Škota na samo sa Gogom. Nećemo ga niti zivkati niti posjećivati. Pozvat ćemo ga na razgovor dan dva prije polaska nazad. Možda se ohladi i u međurazdoblju promjeni mišljenje. Mislim možda mu dođe iz dupeta u glavu da bi trebao ipak otići doma i sam rasčistiti sve sa kim treba." Strela je povukao dim iz cigarete i klimnu glavom dok je ispuštao polako dim između usana klimnuo je još jedan put. "Pametno i mislim da je to jedino što možemo učiniti. Ne vjerujem da će promijeniti odluku ali možda će u tom razdoblju kako tako rasčistiti telefonom pa nama ostane manje pitanja kada se vratimo. Zvao sam Miru i znam da Ljilja ništa ne zna." Odmahnuo je glavom i povukao novi dim iz cigarete potom ugasio čik u pepeljari. Polako sam ugasio svoj ostatak cigarete i posegao za vilicom. Bruna je iz ruksaka izvukla neki časopis i počela čitati. "Strela ako imaš problema sa smještajem slobodno javi i dođi kod Bose. Pitao sam i cure su suglasne da dobiješ sobu ako treba." Nasmiješio se. "Nema frke ali hvala. Bruna zna sve kako sam ti objasnio i čak je uzela godišnji da bi više bili zajedno dok sam tu. Isto važi i za tebe ona se složila ako bude potrebe da spavaš u dnevnom boravku. Stančić je mali ali simpa uređen budeš vidio." Polako sam sažvakao komad kolača pustio vilicu i posegao za kavom. "Što imaš u planu za danas. Preko telefona si nabacio da si nam isplanirao dan sa Brunom?" Prebacio sam se na engleski i Bruna je podigla pogled sa onog časopisa prema meni. Škot je malo udahnuo potom ispalio. "Picnic hm piknik in mountaines." Pogledao je u Brunu. Ona je shvatila i brzo preuzela. "Idemo obići jednu staru tvrđavu u brdima po legendi podigli su je teutonski vitezovi. Biće ti zanimljivo. Poslije možemo u jedno selo na kupanje imaju veliki bazen na izvorima termalne vode. Imam sendviče colu iiiii …, namignula je, dva joint-a. Ja vozim prva." Polako sam dovršio kolač i kavu dok sam motao cigaretu Strela je platio račun. Dok smo prilazili motorima Strela je pokazao glavom prema Bruni." "Onaj njen skuter je živahan gad, a ona dobro mota tako da ćeš se malo iznenaditi vožnjom." Nasmješih se. "Isprobat ćemo je kada dođu zavoji na usponu." Sjedio sam za stolom u restoranu i čekao da me Mirjana zapazi. Uvijek mi se javljala kada bih navratio u restoran, u neku ruku bili smo prijatelji. Polako sam pijuckao kavu i guštao e-cigaretu. Nije trebalo puno da Mirjana dođe do mog stola. "Bog kako si?" Izbacila je sjedajući na stolicu preko puta mene. "Bok Mirjana, guštam kavu, kako tebi ide?" Izvukla je kutiju sa cigaretama iz džepa pregače i nasmiješila se paleći jednu. "Kao uvijek u ovo doba godine, turista ima, ima i posla vidio si prošli put kada si došao na večeru. Ne žalim se." Gledala me je upitno. Nasmiješih se. "Treba mi obavijest ako to znaš, a moguće je da znaš. Kada sam prošli put bio na večeri došla je jedna riđokosa žena, visoke potpetice čipka čarape i ...." "Veliki izrez na haljini da se sve to bolje vidi." Prekinula me je. "Znam je dolazila je prošle godine ovdje par puta na večeru malo smo popričali i svidjelo joj se i jelo i mjesto. Čekala sam da me možda pitaš za nju." Podigoh obrve upitno uz osmijeh. Otpuhnula je dim iz cigarete. "Prošli put me pitala za tebe, kako se zoveš i znam li od kuda si." Polako sam posegao za njenom kutijom i izvadio cigaretu, zapalila mi je bez riječi. "Da se ne zove možda Gordana?" Klimnula je glavom. "Je sama ovdje?" Slegla je ramenima. "Mislim da ovaj put je, prošli put je bila sa nekim mulcem od 25 godina ili slično kojeg je očigledno financirala za izlaske i zabavu ali ne pitaj me više. Koliko kužim iz tvojih je krajeva i nije se puno iznenadila kada sam joj rekla tvoje ime i da si koliko znam iz Zemuna." Povukao sam dim i udahnuo duboko. "Znaš li u kojem hotelu je?" "Znam Kristal, soba je 214 i to je sve što bih ti rekla." Otresao sam pepeo sa cigarete i namigno joj. "Može jedna dupla loza." Nije ništa pitala polako se podigla i krenula ka šanku. Minutu kasnije konobarica mi je donijela čašicu na stol. "Kuća časti, tako je gazdarica rekla." Nasmiješih joj se. "Imaš cigaretu viška." "Ne ne pušim ali pitaću Mirjanu." Klimnuo sam glavom. Gledao sam prazno okolo dok se udaljavala. Par minuta kasnije donijela je kutiju cigareta i upaljač te ih pustila na stolu ništa ne pitajući. Posegnuo sam i zapalio jednu. Trebalo je odlučiti. Posegnuo sam i zapalio jednu. Trebalo je odlučiti. Prijatelji se ne napuštaju Pogledao sam kroz prozor, pljusak je polako popuštao. Ljetnja oluja se se najavljivala već par sati, nakupinama oblaka i povremenim snažnim udarima vjetra. Konačno je počela uz grmljavinu i pljusak negdje oko osam navečer. Polako se okrenuh od prozora. Bosa je stajala za štednjakom i spremala meso i gljive, Petra je sjedila za stolom u blagavaonici i lakirala nokte. Bile su uvijek u različitim izdanjima kućne garderobe. Bosa je nosila mekanu kućnu haljinu i malo punije tamno plave samostojeće čarape te natikače sa malo višim potpeticama. Uvijek je nastojala prekriti onaj ožiljak od operacije na nozi čarapama. Petra je sjedila u šarenoj majici dugih rukava i smeđim hulahopkama, njene natikače - patkice se nisu uklapale ni u što. Sjetih se da je Petra par minuta prije cičala dok joj Bosa nije dopustila da mali nokat na njenoj ruci namaže svojim tamno crvenim lakom. Polako i oprezno se približih stolu i posegoh za kutijom sa cigaretama pazeći da ne izazovem Petrinu pažnju. Nije upalilo, dok sam palio cigaretu podigla je pogled sa posla mazanja noktiju i četkice. "Hei sjedi tu i pruži palac." Znao sam što slijedi. Pogledah Bosu. Namignula mi je i nasmiješila se. "Imamo dosta acetona poslije to lako skinemo ili želiš iskušati njenu upornost." Uzdahnuh duboko i polako sjedoh za stol. Prebacih cigaretu u lijevu ruku. Nevoljko sam pružio desnu ruku uzdignutog palca prema Petri. U ovih par dana sam naučio da je najbolje dopustiti joj da svaku svoju sitnu ludost dovede do kraja u protivnom je bila dosadno uporna, a sve propraćeno cičanjem nagovaranjem i smijehom. Skužio sam da joj na neki način ne mogu odbiti ispunjenje želje. Zgrabila je moj palac i postavila ga relativno ravno prema sebi. Posao je završila u par poteza i promotrila svoj rad. "Taako sada smo svi isti. Možeš biti od koristi i nasuti nam aperitiv, nismo ništa popili već tri dana." Petak večer smo odlučili iskoristiti za zajedničku kućnu večeru. Petra je već pripremila francuski krumpir, a Bosa je upravo dovršavala meso i gljive. Pazeći na onaj namazani nokat polako sam ustao od stola. "Pazi da ne zamažeš sve tim noktom." Dobacila je Petra dok sam se udaljavao. Otvorih hladnjak i izvadih onu bocu tequile i limun. Postavio sam je na pladanj i izrezao šnite limuna te ih postavio na tanjurić. Osjećao sam se malo umorno dok sam tražio slanik. Zadnje tri noći je bilo naporno ali i sjajno. Prije nikada nisam pomišljao na tako nešto u seksu. Sada mi se sve činilo normalnim. Polako sam dodao tri visoke čašice na poslužavnik i odnio sve do stola. Petra je pazeći na nokte dohvatila bocu i napunila ih dok sam sjedao nazad na svoje mjesto. Položila je šnitu limuna na svaku čašicu i pozvala Bosu rukom. Zamjetih da mi je lak na onm noktu već suh. Bosa je promiješala gljive u tavi i polako krenula ka stolu. Telefon je zazvonio. Pogledah u Bosu. Slegla je ramenima i prišla telefonu. Pogledah na sat bilo je devet i pet minuta. Bosa se javila na njemačkom poslušala nešto i odgovorila na hrvatskom. "Tu je samo malo." Spustila je slušalicu pored telefona i polako krenula ka kuhinji gledajući u našem pravcu. "Bambi Strela te treba." Ovo nije mirisalo na nešto dobro. Nismo se čuli još od onog zajedničkog izleta. Sutra smo se trebali čuti dogovoriti gdje ćemo se naći obići rasprodaje u centru, ujedno smo trebali dogovoriti detalje oko povratka. Iznenadni poziv nakon devet sati navečer nije obećavao ništa dobro. Podižući slušalicu ponadah se da je samo želio večeras dogovoriti detalje za sutra. "Halo Đoni frka je sa Škotom i Gogom." Ponadah se da je samo neka svađa i razlaz. "Kakva frka." Strela je počekao par sekundi sa odgovorom. Znao sam da se pokušava skoncetrirati na kratak i jezgrovit odgovor. "Nalaze se u onom disko baru "Western Gold", imali su nekakvu raspravu sa Goginim bivšim dečkom, sada ih isti sa ekipom čeka vani na parkingu. Ako izađu i krenu ka autu vjerojatno će biti nasilja. Škot mi se javio, rekao je da ne žele zvati policiju objasnit će sve kada dođemo." Počekao sam par sekundi da mi sve izrečeno legne na mjesto. Osjetih trnce po vrhovima prstiju. "Gdje se nalazi taj Western Gold, je to onaj bar gdje nas Goga htjela voditi? Ti si bio tamo ako se ne varam, a ja sam došao do Bose?" "Točno i meni i tebi je na pola puta između nas, na cesti Hamburg - Ahernsburg. Veliki tržni centar izvan grada jedini na cesti sa benzinskom i gomilom trgovina, velikim parkingom, a na drugom kraju parkinga je disko bar Western Gold." "Počekaj malo." Okrenuo sam se prema Bosi spuštajući slušalicu sa uha. Zabrinuto me je gledala. "Znaš li gdje je disko bar Western Gold?" Klimnula je glavom. Podigoh slušalicu na uho. "Sve riješeno Bosa će mi objasniti gdje je to mjesto. Gdje se nađemo?" "Uđi u bar Škot i Goga su za šankom u kutu stižem čim prije. Bruna ima neku staru bubu pa budući da je kiša dolazimo autom." "OK vidimo se za šankom." Spustio sam slušalicu. Priđoh Bosi, gledala me zabrinuto u oči. "Neka frka Bambi?" Klimnuh glavom. "Škot i Goga su u disko baru Western Gold imaju neku frku sa Goginim bivšim pa Strela i ja idemo vidjeti kakva pomoć treba. Objasni mi gdje je taj disko bar." Bosa je duboko udahnula i sklonila tavu sa štednjaka. Isključila je ploču i pogledala u Petru odmahujući glavom, potom se okrenula prema meni. "Još pada kiša idemo zajedno autom do tamo. Samo mi reci koji bivši i koja frka? Ima par bivših sa kojima je u kontaktu, koliko ja znam, a nijedan od njih nije nasilan." Slegoh ramenima kratko i brzo. "Što ja znam, Škot je zvao Strelu i rekao da nas treba. Imali su neku raspravu sa Goginim bivšim i sada ih ekipa čeka na parkingu. To je dovoljno." Okrenuo sam se i krenuo ka ulaznom hodniku po čizme i jaknu. Bosa je krenula za mnom. "Bambi možda to nije tvoja stvar. Izlazile smo dosta u taj disko bar znamo vlasnika. Ima dobre redare i ne bi dopustio nikakvu tuču uostalom postoji i poziv policiji ovo je njemačka i svi imaju pravo na brzu zaštitu. Moraš li gurati nos u Gogine frke?" Posegao sam za čizmom i podigao je. Okrenuh se polako držeći čizmu u ruci. "Škot i Strela su mi cijeli život prijatelji. Ne želim napustiti niti jednoga od njih u nevolji. Nije mi bitno koji je razlog frke. Frka je trebaju me i idem tamo. Ako me iz nekoga razloga ne možeš voziti objasni gdje je točno to mjesto i idem sam motorom, dalje nemam vremena za rasprave." Polako je odmahnula glavom. "Ja sam kriva trebala sam ti ranije neke stvari objasniti. Ne ideš sam idemo sa tobom samo nam daj minutu da navučemo nešto na sebe." Okrenula se i krenula ka Petri koja je sjedila i zbunjeno nas gledala. Nije ni bilo čudno razgovor se nije vodio na njemačkom, a zvučao je malo oštro. Bosa je prišla Petri i zagrlila je jednom rukom. Progovorila je na njemačkom. "Idemo navući traperice sve ti objasnim uz put." Petra je klimnula glavom i ustala od stola, dok su se penjale prema spavaćoj sobi uputila mi je neki čudan pogled. Živčan sjedoh na pod i navukoh čizme. Digao sam se jednim potezom i posegnuo za jaknom. Nadao sam se da će cure biti brze. Pet minuta kasnije, koji su meni bili vrlo dugi, spustile su se dolje u trapericama i tenisicama. Bosa je nosila jaknu od trapera preko majice, Petra staru kožnu jaknu. Krenuh prema vratima. Petra je spretno skrenula na veliki poluprazni parking i usmjerila auto ka ulazu u Western Gold. Dok smo se vozili nismo razgovarali, pitao sam se što je Bosa rekla Petri u sobi dok su se presvlačile, a budući da ista nije ništa pitala. Disko bar je bio urađen u stilu western saluna sa nadastrešnicom i pomičnim ulazanim vrtima iza kojih su se vidjela prava ulazna vrata. Lijevo od ulaznih vrata su bile postavljene prečke za vezivanje konja, a ispred istih parkirano nekoliko motora. Desno od ulaza je bio normalan parking sa nekoliko auta. Petra se spretno ubacila na jedno slobodno mjesto. Lik ispred ulaza je imao kratku kosu oko dva metra i 120 kilograma, uglavnom mišića. Nosio je traperice, kaubojske čizme, majicu i kožni prsluk u western stilu. Pažljivo me je pogledao dok sam prolazio. Bosa i Petra su me slijedile. Pogled mu je skliznuo prema njima i samo je klimnuo glavom. "Dobro veče." Klimnuh mu glavom i polako otvorih ona pomična salunska vrata. Nakon dva metra hodnika su bila prava vrata. Polako ih otvorih i počekah da cure uđu. Prostorija je bila poluprazna. Veliki drveni stolovi i klupe su bili poredani u obliku slova L oko šanka koji je zauzimao polovicu stražnjeg zida. Dva velika prozora su gledala prema parkingu. Sve je bilo uređeno u stilu western saluna, a na zidovima obljepljenim pločicama sa imitacijom kamena na drvenim pločama su bile plakate poznatih western filmova. To je bilo sve od ukrasa, ako se izuzme prigušeno svijetlo. Društvo je bilo šaroliko i sudeći po odjeći u vrlo slobodnom stilu. Zamjetih Strelu i Škota kako stoje na samom kraju šanka odmah do zida. Goga je sjedila na visokoj barskoj stolici uza zid, a metar dalje od nje sa pivom u ruci je stajala Bruna. Mahnuh glavom curama i krenuh ka Streli i Škotu. Dok sam prilazio zamjetih još dvojicu mišićavih dvometraša kako sjede za prvim stolom nedaleko od kraja šanka za kojim su Strela i Škot stajali. Jedan je izgledao slično i bio obučen jednako kao onaj na ulazu. Drugi je nosio kvalitetno odijelo košulju bez kravate smeđu bradu i konjski rep. Pažljivo su me pratili pogledom. Glazba je bila prigušena. Pljesnuh Strelu po ramenu potom Škota po ispruženom dlanu. Nasmiješili su mi se. Ispred nih na šanku su stajale tri pune čašice, Goga je držala čašu sa nekom zelenom tekućinom u ruci, sudeći po boji i komadićima voća neki koktel. Nije gledala u Brunu. Klimnula mi je glavom. Mahnuh Bruni, uputila mi je zabrinut pogled. Okrenuh se pokazujući rukom prema curama. "Ovo su Bosa i Petra, Bosu znate, a Petra je Bosina prijateljica." Petra je nevoljko klimnula glavom dok se Bosa kiselo nasmiješila. Goga je šutjela i samo nam mahnula rukom. Ove dvije su se pravile da je ne primjećuju Pogledah u Škota. "Gdje je problem?" Nije odgovorio. Okrenuo se i dohvatio dvije čašice sa šanka. Jednu je pružio meni. Strela je dohvatio treću. "Znali smo da ćeš doći, zato smo ti naručili piće." Okrenuo se ka Bosi i Petri. "Što želite popiti." Bosa je odmahnula glavom, djelovala je izrazito loše raspoložena. Slegao je ramenima i ponovno se okrenuo ka meni. "Već sam objasnio Streli. Ukratko došli smo ovdje na koje piće i da se dogovorimo idemo li dalje u život. Nije bilo mjesta na parkingu ispred vrata pa je Goga parkirala u redu lijevo od ulaza. Sjeli smo ovdje za šank, nakon pola sata naletio je Gogin bivši onaj što je telefonski progonio zadnjih dana. Bio je u društvu neka tri lika. Zajeban nabildan lik, a ni ona trojica se nisu puno razlikovala od njega. Uglavnom snimio nas je i prišao. Tražio je od Goge da popričaju par minuta. Nisam želio stvarati frku u startu, klimnuo sam joj glavom i prihvatila je. Udaljili su se prema onom stolu, za kojim sada sjede ona dva snagatora, stali i započeli priču. Odavde nisam čuo ništa ali sam ih pratio pogledom. Kako mi je poslije objasnila pokušala je na finjaka odbiti bilo koju raspravu o obnavljanju veze, vidio sam samo da je Goga par puta odmahnula glavom i nešto mu rekla. Tada je podivljao uhvatio je za ruku i počeo vući vičući nešto u stilu kujo ili slično. Normalno umiješao sam se i uvalio liku jedan dobar udarac. Dohvatili smo se, oni njegovi su krenuli ka nama i vjerojatno bih najebao ali su se umješala sva tri redara. Onaj što sada stoji na ulazu i ona dvojica što sjede za stolom preko puta." Mahnuo je glavom ka snagatorima koje sam uočio dok sam prilazio. Potom je podigao čašicu i otpio. Uradio sam isto pokušavajući da sredim dojmove o dosadašnjem objašnjenju. Nakon gutljaja klimnuh glavom. Škot me shvatio i produljio. "Dvojica redara su nas razdvojila, a treći se postavio prema onim njegovim majmunima i nešto im oštro rekao na njemačkom pa su stali. Nakon minutu ja sam sjedio na svom starom mjestu za šankom, a onu četvoricu su izbacili van. Naručili smo novo piće i vodu da se sredimo. Piće nam je donio onaj gorila u odijelu sa konjskim repom. Objasnio mi je da je Horst prvi počeo sa nasiljem prema Gogi pa su ih zato sve zajedno bez razmišljanja izbacili ali da moli i nas kada se sredimo da napustimo lokal. Gazda ne želi nikakve frke ovdje, na prvi znak frke reagirat će i predati stvar policiji na dalje. Klimnuo sam glavom i rekao mu da je u redu. Ionako mi se išlo van nakon svega." Zastao je i ispraznio čašicu do kraja. Podigao sam svoju čašicu otpio i upitao. "Kažeš Horst, pretpostavljam da je to ime Goginog bivšeg?" Krajem oka zamjetih da se Bosa trgnula. Klimnuo je glavom i odložio čašicu na šank. "Da na to ime se kreten odaziva kada mu gazda napuni zdjelicu sa hranom i pozove ga. Ukratko kada smo izašli vidjeli smo da nas čekaju ispred auta. Parkirali su pored našeg auta i čekali da krenemo ka autu. Obratih se onom redaru u odijelu koji im je očigledno šef ali mi lik objasnio da je samo ovaj mali prostor ispred ulaza službeno parking od lokala, ostatak parkinga pripada tržnom centru i njih se to ne tiče, u protivnom bi često imali posla kada se lokalne ekipe navečer napiju pored auta. Rekao je da može pozvati policiju ako želimo. Goga ne želi miješati policiju, treba postati viši rukovoditelj odjela u firmi i saslušanja od strane policije ili nekog suda, ako dođu do ušiju viših managera mogu biti težak problem, a ujedno to i nije naš način." Ispraznih čašicu do kraja i pogledah oko sebe. Strela je stajao i gledao u mene, Goga je sjedila pogleda uprtog u pod, Bruna je bila naslonjena na zid i gledala prazno ispred sebe, Petra se naslonila leđima na šank gledajući negdje između nas ali Bosa je nestala. Pogledah po lokalu. Brzo sam uočio da Bosa priča sa nekim visokim žilavim likom u kožnoj jakni sa resama na drugom kraju šanka. Nije mi bila jasna ali nije bilo vrijeme za raspravljanje ponašanja. Okrenuh se ka Škotu. "Drugim riječima želiš da odemo van i sredimo tu ekipu?" Klimnuo je glavom. "Goga kaže da Horst samo to kuži. Lokalni siledžija sa ekipom lokalnih siledžija. Kada ga je upoznala glumio je finoću, nakon par mjeseci skužila je sa kim ima posla i raskinula ali već šest mjeseci je progoni. Može skužiti samo ako dobije dobre batine uz mogućnost da ih dobije još ako ponovno pogriješi." Strela je klimnuo glavom. "Ako je to tvoj stav ja sam u tome." Obojica su pogledala prema meni. Polako klimnuh glavom. "Nema frke sa vama sam. Reci koliko su tvrdi ovi koji nas čekaju." Škot je slegao ramenima. "Zajebana ekipa, Horst je jak i opasan kako mi se čini, druga dvojica djeluju manje opasno ali onaj četvrti je pravi tenk. Lik ima najviše 175 cm ali djeluje kao da ima 175 kilograma mišića. Lakše ga preskočiti nego obići. Bit će zajebano ali mislim da to možemo." Strela je klimnuo glavom. "Imali smo slične situacije doma polazeći od one prve Acine bande bilo ih je tada šest ako se ne varam." Slegnuh ramenima sa osjećajem mržnje. "Šest psihopatskih govanaca." Osjećao sam trnce u prstima. Pogledah Škota. "Koji bi bio plan?" Nasmiješio se široko. "Idemo prema njima ako ne prihvati razgovor ili ako napadnu, ja bih preuzeo Horsta ti Đoni bi mogao srediti onaj tenk od čovjeka već sam te vidio sa takvim snagatorima imaš mozak za tuču oni ne. Strela bi mogao preuzeti i srediti onu dvojicu ili ih samo zadržati dok mi ne završimo sa problematičnim." Pogledao je u Strelu. Strela je u tučama bio uvjerljivo najbrži od nas. Kretao se brzo i fluidno i jako brzo zadavao udarce rukama i nogama. Realno on je jedini imao šansu preuzeti dvojicu uz neugodnog Horsta i opisani tenk od čovjeka. Polako je klimnuo glavom. "Bez brige mogu ja tu dvojicu srediti ma koliko trajalo." Klimnuh glavom. "Dogovoreno, cure ostaju unutra do kraja frke." Pogledao sam ih u oči. "Idemo ili se molimo i čekamo čudo da se dogodi?" Nasmijali su se i klimnuli. Polako skinuh jaknu i okrenuh se ka Petri. Bosa je sada stajala pored nje. Bile su oko metar udaljene ali po Bosinom izrazu lica bilo je jasno da je čula dobar dio razgovora. Priđoh i pružih jaknu Bosi umjesto Petri kako sam prvobitno namjeravao. Bila je blijeda i uplašena. Nasmješih se dok je prihvaćala jaknu. Ja sam već osjećao trnce niz kralježnicu i u prstima ruku. "Samo mi pričuvaj dok obavimo jedan razgovor." Uhvatila me je za ruku. "Đoni stani. Razgovarala sam sa gazdom lokala znaš da ga poznajem. Mislim da znam tko je taj Gogin bivši, dopusti da ja pokušam možda izgladim to, gazda će mi dati dva redara, a vi samo počekajte, molim te." Nasmiješih se i skinuh njenu ruku sa svoje. "Daj Bosa. Sa lokalnim siledžijama i bandama imamo iskustva, sigurno više nego ti, a i to je naš problem ne tvoj." Okrenuh se ka Škotu. Zamjetio sam da su on i Strela već odložili jakne na šank pored Goge. Goga je djelovala smireno, Bruna je imala pogled uplašenog zeca. Osjetih adrenalin u zraku. Mahnuo sam im rukom i krenuo. Niotkuda ispred mene se stvorio onaj redar u sivom odjelu sa konjskim repom. Pogledao me u oči. "Što će te raditi dalje na parkingu ne tiče me se ali u lokalu i na parkingu ispred lokala ne želimo frku. Nadam se da je dogovoreno?" Rekao je to uz ljubazni osmjeh ali je zvučalo dovoljno uvjerljivo da bi i kamen razmislio ako bi imao namjere drugačije od predloženih. Klimnuh glavom. "Dogovoreno, a vi ne dopustite da cure imaju neke probleme ma što bilo vani. Dogovoreno?" Klimnu je glavom uz ozbiljan izraz lica. "Dogovoreno računaj na to." Polako sam otvorio vrata i izašao. Škot i Strela su me slijedili. Onom redaru na ulazu uputih ljubazan osmijeh. Ništa nije komentirao budući da se onaj sa konjskim repom pojavio odmah iza nas i dao mu znak rukom. Kiša je prestala, a parking je bio solidno osvijetljen uličnim svjetiljkama. Škot skrenu lijevo od ulaza ka drugom kraju parkinga. Slijedili smo ga. Čim smo prošli parkirane aute zamjetih na drugom kraju, oko trideset metara udaljenom od nas, Gogin bijeli BMW 316. Pored njega je bio parkiran crni BMW ali serije 5. Stali smo. Na zadnju haubu crnog auta je bio naslonjen niži lik. Shvatio sam zašto ga je Škot nazvao tenk od čovjeka. Bio je u crnim trapericama sa širokim remenom i crnoj majici. Mogao je imati 175 cm ali ne više. Okrugla glava mu je bila podšišana na skroz kratku jež frizuru, a tijelo je više sličilo na valjak. Problem je bio što se već po mišićima ruku vidjelo da je žestoko nabildan. Udario je brzo dlanom dva puta po haubi. Prednja vozačka i dvoje zadnjih vrata su se otvorila i izbacila tri lika van. Dok su prilazili prijatelju na haubi zamjetih da su bili kratko podšišani i sportski obučeni u traperice majice i tenisice. Jedino je onaj tenk na nogama imao neku vrstu vojničkih čizmi. Najviši od njih je imao oko 190 cm, kratku plavu kosu i nabildani torzo. Škot klimnu glavom ka njemu. "To je Horst on je moj. Onaj tenk je Đonijev, Strela možeš onu dvojicu?" Govorio je tiho. Strela je klimnuo glavom. Ona trojica su stala pored prijatelja ispred auta. Djelovali su opasno. Pogledali smo se između sebe potom raširili približno na odstojanje ispružene ruke. Škot je stao lijevo od mene Strela desno. Udahnuo sam duboko zrak osjećajući lagani grč u želucu i navalu adrenalina, klimnuo sam glavom. Polako smo krenuli prema njima. Oni su malo raširili svoju crtu. Znači imali su iskustva. Nastojao sam da me ne obuzmu osjećaji. Trebao mi je čist i brz mozak protiv onog tenka. Nakon par metara smo uskladili korak. Počeo sam osjećati udare srca. Bilo mi je jasno da ako dođe do tuče lika moram izbjegavati, paziti da mu ne omogućim čist i jak udarac ili da me dohvati rukama. Ako se to dogodi jednostavno bih završio u mašini za mljevenje mesa ili bi bila bolja usporedba pod parnim čekićem koji bi me sredio jednim do dva udarca. Mogu mi pomoći samo Bog i Win Chun tehnike koje sam naučio. Postao sam hladan, mozak mi je počeo raditi kako treba. Sve mi je djelovalo malo usporeno ali jasno. Prišli smo na oko pet metara kada je Horst istupio naprijed i malo podigao ruke. Mislim da je rekao nešto u stilu "vi sigurno ne znate" ali nije stigao dalje od toga. Škot je uletio u njega neočekivanom brzinom. Očigledno je kuhao od bijesa čim nije dopustio niti jedno drugo rješenje. Nisam stigao analizirati bilo što onaj tenk se odvojio od haube na kojoj je sjedio. Bio je brz, brži nego što sam očekivao. Krenuo sam naprijed ali mi je bilo jasno da sam zakasnio. Onih prvih par udaraca koje sam mu zadao uspio je dijelom blokirati ramenom tako da je efekt serije bio slab. Očigledno ga nisam niti uzdrmao. Odskočio sam i zauzeo gard sa jednom podignutom rukom naprijed i blagim raskorakom. Nešto veći dio težine je bio prebačen na zadnju nogu kako bi prednja ostala slobodna za udarac. Krenuo je na mene. Zamjetio sam da ima široki zamah kod udarca. Malo sam se okrenuo i blokirao podlakticom. Udarac me uzdrmao i osjetih bol u ruci. Ovaj je stvarno bio prejak. Uspio sam ga izbjeći tijekom blokade i sada mi je bio napola okrenut leđima. Uputih mu seriju udaraca u nezaštićeni dio lica i vrata. Imao sam dulje ruke i to bi bila prednost da nije bio tako jak. Imao sam dojam da šakama štemam zid. Unatoč udarcima se okrenu prema meni i uspio me pri tom odgurnuti rukom. Odteturao sam par koraka u nazad, a njemu je to dalo dovoljno vremena da se u potpunosti okrene prema meni i krene u napad. Uspio sam ga izbjeći i odgurnuti. Dok se okretao prema meni krenuo sam u napad pri tome nastojeći iskorakom prednje noge nagaziti njegovu potkoljenicu stopalo ili nožne prste. Učili su nas da je to izrazito bolno ako pogodiš nešto od nabrojanog. Povukao se i zadao jedan široki udarac sa strane ali nije imao uporište na nogama pa je to bio slab udarac. Blokirao sam ga rukom i zadao mu još jednu seriju od tri wing chun direkta ciljajući korijen nosa ili što dohvatim. Osjetio sam da su sva tri udarca pogodila dobro. Pokušao sam se izvući u stranu uz okret ali tada me dohvatio jednim od onih svojih nezgrapnih udaraca sa strane koji mi je probio blok nadlakticom i završio u rebrima. Osjetio sam jaku bol i odstupio dva koraka nazad. Dok sam čekao da tenk krene krajem oka sam zapazio da su Škot i Horst završili na zemlji u nekom zahvatu, a da je Strela uspio srušiti jednog od one dvojice. Tenk je zagrebao gusjenicima i uletio svom snagom. Uspio sam ga samo izbjeći izmicanjem u stranu ali nisam imao šanse za udarac. Zaustavio se više od metar i pol dalje od mene i počeo okretati. To je bila prigoda uletio sam sa novom serijom direkta i nagaznim udarcem nogom nakon iskoraka. Osjetih da sam mu nogom pogodio stopalo ali ne petom kako je bilo poželjno. Udarci rukama su mu zasuli nebranjeni dio glave ali ponovno sam imao dojam da šakama udaram u zid. Okretao se pokušavajući me uhvatiti rukom. Nisam to smio dopustiti i povukoh se brzo dva koraka unazad. Bio je brz previše brz za svoju konstituciju. Dok sam završio treći korak unazad već je krenuo na mene. Ovaj put je to izveo na način da je zastao izvan dometa moje šake, kojom sam ga pokušavao držati na distanci, izveo jedan lažni kroše i pokušao uletjeti u mene sa nekom vrstom kratkih direkt udaraca, očigledno više da me zbuni u uhvati nego što je polagao nade u pogodak. Uspio sam se povući malo unazad i blokirati one njegove direkte ali je već bio na meni i ponovno udario svom snagom sa strane. Ovaj put me pogodio. Osjetio sam bol u rebrima i odletio sam u stranu gubeći tlo pod nogama. Osjetio sam vlažan asfalt i u trenutku zahvalio bogu što nisam odletio prema nekom autu gdje bi mi šanse da se brzo dignem bile minimalne. Završio sam na leđima, vidio sam ga kako prilazi. Nisam se pokušavao dići na klasičan način već sam se odbacio jednom nogom za "kolut unazad" dok sam drugu nogu ispružio kao zaštitu i klatno za inerciju. Zbunjeno je ustuknuo korak, vjerojatno ne shavćajući da je ona ispružena noga u nepovoljnom položaju za udarac. To mi je dalo dovoljno vremena da završim aikido pad unazad savijajući nogu u koljenu tako da sam sada već bio u poziciji ustajanja i gardu kada je pritrčao u novi napad. Krenuo je širokim udarcem nogom nastojeći me rasturiti dok sam bio još u polu uspravljanju. Spustih se skoro na koljena i odbacih rukama tu nogu u zrak. Pao je nezgodno na leđa i očigledno ostao bez daha. Trijumfalno sam već bio na nogama. Sada ga je samo trebalo dovršiti dok se nezgrapno diže brzim kratkim udarcima nogom. Krajem pogleda zamjetih da je Strela na zemlji na boku, a jedan od onih likova mu zadaje udarac nogom. Uspio je uvući glavu i ramenom odbiti udarac ali pozicija mu nije obećavala ništa dobro. Lik se spremao za novi udarac dok se Strela pokušavao otkotrljati nešto dalje kako bi dobio prostora za ustajanje. Pustih tenk da se diže i uletih liku sa leđa. Uspio sam ga nagaziti na početak pod koljenice sa zadnje strane što ga je natjeralo da klekne potom mu zadah jedan brz udarac odozgo u vilicu. To je bilo sve, uspio sam vidjeti kako se Strela uspravlja, a tenk je uletio u mene. Zadao mi je jedan široki udarac pogađajući mi rebra sa strane kada sam se uspravio od udarca gurnuo me rukom svom snagom. Odletio sam par metara unazad i tresnuo na asfalt. Kroz mozak mi je proletjelo da je gotovo sada me ima. Povratio sam dah i pokušao ponovno izvesti ustajanje u stilu aikido pada unazad ali sam bio spor. Pustio me da se okrenem i nakon toga pritrčao. Tada je napravio pogrešku. Nije me pokušao ponovno udariti nogom valjda polazeći iz prvog iskustva. Pustio me da se dignem negdje do polovice iskoračio i uhvatio me desnom rukom čvrsto za lijevo rame, u stisak poput škripa, paralelno je zamahnuo široko lijevom u namjeri da mi zada razarajući udarac. Desnom rukom sam čvrsto uhvatio njegovu šaku na mome ramenu lakat mi je bio visoko podignut i štitio glavu za slučaj da završi udarac. Lijevom rukom sam ga uhvatio odozdo za lakat malo se podigao i pustio da mi ruka sklizne na njegovu podlakticu. Imao sam ga u poluzi ručnog zgloba. Svom snagom sam se pomakao unaprijed riskirajući ako otrgne šaku iz poluge da padnem licem na asfalt. Nije je izvukao kriknuo je i slijedeći bol u savijenoj šaci i podlaktici poletio na lice na asfalt. Ne puštajući polugu pomakao sam se korak naprijed, čvrsto sam mu blokirao podlakticu između mog koljena i pod koljenice ne puštajući mu šaku u poluzi. Ležao je na trbuhu potpuno otvoren i ranjiv. Počeo sam mu zadavati udarce lijevom šakom po glavi gdje sam stigao. Imao sam dojam da je prošlo stoljeće ruka me već boljela od udaraca kada je ispustio neki grleni zvuk. Zastao sam. Shavtih da govori "Ne" na njemačkom, nerazumljivo "Nein". Pustih mu šaku i uspravih se. Ležao je stenjajući. Polako se pokušao uspraviti tresući glavom i oslanjajući se na ruke i koljena. Blago ga pritisnuh nogom u leđa. Shvatio je i vratio se u ležeći položaj. Okrenuh se. Škot i Strela su stajali jedan do drugog i promatrali me. Strela mi mahnu i polako krenu prema meni. "Bilo je to surovo Đoni stvarno si ga dobro razbio." Kretao se teško duboko dišući. Škot je prišao polako vukući nogu. Pogledah iz njih po parkingu. Jedan od onih likova je sjedio na asfaltu držeći se za glavu, Horst je još ležao i stenjao u fetalnom položaju. Drugi od Strelinih protivnika je stajao duboko dišući naslonjen na prtljažnik Goginog auta. Drugom rukom se držao za trbuh. Očigledno mu nije padalo na pamet da poduzima bilo što više. Nismo ništa govorili. Polako smo krenuli natrag ka ulazu u Western Gold. Počela je padati sitna hladna kiša, već nakon par koraka bili smo mokri. Dok smo prilazili zamijetih da su redari vani i da nas promatraju. Stajali su par metara ispred "svog teritorija". Onaj sa konjskim repom je stajao naprijed, a preostala dvojica iza njega. Iza te dvojice su stajale Bosa i Petra. Dok smo prilazili konjski rep klimnu glavom. "Vidim dosta tuča na ovom parkingu ali ovo je vrijedilo gledati." Klimnuh mu umorno glavom dok sam prolazio pored njega. Oslanjao sam se na Strelu jednom rukom. Rebra sa lijeve strane su me boljela a i šaku lijeve ruke nisam baš osjećao dobro. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Csv1wXOr5tY (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Csv1wXOr5tY) zainteresiranih za dalje? Pa neznam kaj se čeka ????? :aplauz: :aplauz: :aplauz: Boris tebi samom mogu poslati nastavke i na email ako mi ga pošalješ na pp Nemoj zezati, a mi drugi? :occasion: Klimnuh mu umorno glavom dok sam prolazio pored njega. Oslanjao sam se na Strelu jednom rukom. Rebra sa lijeve strane su me boljela a i šaku lijeve ruke nisam baš osjećao dobro. Konjski rep me blago potapša po ramenu. Zastao sam i okrenuo se. Pogledao me u oči nekim čudnim pogledom. "Žao mi je ali takvi ne bi smjeli u lokal." Pokazao je rukom na mene od glave do pete. Pogledah se na svijetlu uličnih svjetiljki. Traperice su mi bile razderane duž nogavice jednako kao i majica na okovratniku. Pogledah Škota i Strelu koji su zastali gledajući u mene. Nisu izgledali bolje. Škot je imao skroz razderanu majicu od okovratnika negdje skoro do pojasa traperica. Uz sve to bio je krvav ispod nosa i oko usta. Strela je izgledao nijansu bolje odnosno bio je krvav samo oko usta ali nije imao jedan rukav na majici. Klimnuh glavom. Konjski rep me blago potapša po ramenu. "Poslat ću po one dvije cure, a onaj ostatak na drugoj strani parkinga također budemo riješili." Pogledah na drugu stranu parkinga prema Horstu i njegovoj ekipi. Sva četvorica su sada stajala pored onog crnog BMW-a i nešto raspravljali. Jedan od one dvojice Strelinih je pridržavao Horsta. Tenk je stajao naslonjen leđima na prtljažnik auta. Konjski rep klimnu glavom prema jednom od onih dvojice snagatora, a drugom mahnu rukom. Polako je krenuo preko parkinga praćen gorilom u kožnom prsluku. Onaj drugi je nestao u lokalu. Shvatih da nisu čekali vani zato što ih je zanimala tuča već su pazili da se problemi ne presele na njihov teren, bilo da gubitnik potraži utočište u lokalu ili da pobjednik poželi proslaviti pobjedu. Škot i Strela su me gledali. Klimnuh im glavom. "Jasno je da ne možemo unutra. Počekat će mo cure ovdje." Škot je klimnuo glavom. Pogledah prema drugoj strani parkinga. Konjski rep je nešto govorio Horstovoj skupini. Na kraju je mahnuo rukom i krenuo nazad. Likovi su se počeli pakirati u auto. Počekao sam dok crni BMW nije počeo izlaziti u rikverc sa parkirnog mjesta potom okrenuo prema Bosi i Petri. Bosa je stajala ruku prekriženih na grudima i gledala oštro u mene, Petra me promatrala zabrinuto ruku spuštenih pored tijela. Priđoh im polako. Bosa je držala moju jaknu preko ruke. Odmahnula je glavom. "Ludost Bambi, ludost." Petra je mahnula rukom prema Bosi i prišla mi. Podigla je prste i dodirnula moje usne. "Jesi dobro?" Klimnuh glavom i spustih joj ruke na ramena. Nasmiješila se i zagrlila me. Iza njenih leđa Goga i Bruna su se pojavile iz lokala. Goga je pritrčala Škotu i zgrlila ga. Bruna je polako prilazila Streli. Konjski rep u pratnji gorile se zaustavio pored mene. Pogledao je Bosu. "Rekao sam im da imaju dvadeset minuta prije nego pozovem prijatelje iz policije, sada je parking slobodan." Bosa je upitno podigla obrve i otvorila usta. Prekinuo je u neizgovorenom brzim pokretom ruke. "Kao što sam obećao neću zvati nikoga ali nestanite čim prije. Ne želim nikakve probleme ipak je u pitanju naša reputacija." Ljubazno joj se nasmiješio i potapšao je po ramenu. "Vas dvije navratite ponekada na piće, samo držite ovog dobermana na ogrlici." Klimnuo je glavom prema meni. Polako je krenuo prema ulazu u lokal praćen gorilom u kožnom prsluku. Očigledno mu nije smetala hladna sitna kiša niti se brinuo za svoje kvalitetno odijelo. Nije gledao ni u koga. Pratio sam pogledom dok nije nestao iza vrata. Minutu kasnije se onaj drugi snagator u kožnom prsluku pojavio i stao pored vrata. Očigledno su nam željeli pokazati da misle ozbiljno. Pogledah prema ostalima. Bruna je držala Strelu za ruku, uplašenog pogleda. Škot je zagrlio Gogu i gledao u nas. Bosa je sa mržnjom promatrala Gogu. Oslonih se rukom na Petrino rame. Pomislih da je dobro što je samo desetak centimetara niža od mene. Škot mahnu rukom. "Mogli bi se raspršiti da zavaramo neprijatelje." Smiješio se. Klimnuh glavom, Strela također. "Čujemo se sutra dečki." Nastojao sam da mi glas bude čvrst iako me od hladne kišice hvatao napad osjećaja hladnoće. Škot podiže ruku u pozdrav. "Đoni Strela naša vrata su vam otvorena u svako doba dana i noći." Spustio je ruku. Goga nam je samo mahnula. Strela me pljesnu po ramenu i zaputi se ka suprotnom kraju parkinga vukući Brunu za ruku. Bosa je prišla i uhvatila me pod ruku. Bez riječi me povukla ka autu. Dok sam hodao oslanjao sam se zdravom rukom na Petru. Tijekom spuštanja na sjedalo osjetio sam bol u rebrima i napad drhtavice. Očigledno me adrenalin popuštao. Pogledah u lijevu šaku. Počela je otIcati. Pitao sam se koliko dugu neću biti u stanju povući ručicu kvačila. Vozili smo se u tišini. Pri ulasku u stan osjetih slabost i drhtavicu. Bio sam skroz mokar. Petra mi je pomogla do stola u blagavaoni. Naslonio sam se na stol pazeći na lijevu šaku. Pogledah Petru. "Mogu dobiti duplo piće?" Klimnula je glavom i krenula ka hladnjaku. Bosa je tresnula moju jaknu na stolicu i okrenula se prema meni. "Svi smo mokri, a ti pogotovu. Uz sve si i prljav kao da si se valjao u blatu sa svinjama. Skini majicu i te ostatke traperica da ih bacim u perilicu." Umorno klimnuh glavom prema njenom ljutitom pogledu. "Samo jedno piće molim te." Petra mi je stavila veliku čašu do pola punu na stol. Bosa me promatrala ali ovaj put zabrinuto. Otpio sam jedan dobar gutljaj tequile. Počekao sam da me alkohol počne paliti po želucu. Nisam se osjećao bolje. Otpih još jedan mali gutljaj i spustih čašu na stol. Polako sam pokušao skinuti majicu. Nije išlo lijeva strana me boljela kad bih podigao ruke. Petra je prišla i pomogla mi sa majicom, Bosa mi izula čizme. Traperice sam spustio do ispod koljena i sjeo. Petra je čučnula i svukla ostatke traperica sa mene. Osjetih da su mi i gaće mokre. Tada me uhvatila drhtavica. Bosa je donijela ručnik i počela me pažljivo brisati. Uz pomoć uspio sam doći do spavaće sobe. Netko mi je skinuo gaće i sjeo sam na krevet. Tresao sam se od slabosti i hladnoće. Netko je nešto govorio. Netko me pokrio dekom. Nisam bio siguran da li je netko rekao na njemačkom ili nekom drugom jeziku nešto u stilu "moramo mu nešto obući da se bolje ugrije". Plutao sam između nigdje i ničega. Polako sam tonuo ne osjećajući ništa izuzev jake hladnoće koja me tresla. Tama se polako razilazila. Netko me blago tresao za rame. Otvorih oči. Žena kratke crvene kose i srcolikog izgleda lica je gledala u mene smeđim očima. Sjedila je na rubu kreveta i blago me tresla za rame. "Čuješ me? Shvaćaš što te pitam?" Klimnuh glavom potom polako prevalih preko usana: Pridgoh se malo oslanjajući se na lakat. Bilo je to naporno. Jako svjetlo stropne svjetiljke mi je smetalo. Polako sam razaznao spavaću sobu i Bosu i Petru koje stoje na ulazu. Ona crvenokosa što me tresla polako je ustala sa kreveta. Nosila je traperice i bijelu košulju koja je izgledala kao muška košulja. Nešto je bilo čudno na njoj. Pogledala me u oči. "Ja sam Suzi, liječnik. Pokušaj polako sam ustati molim te." Polako odgurnuh pokrivače sa sebe. Nešto mi je bilo čudno. Majica koju sam nosio bila je sivo isprane boje, a po rubovima dugih rukava je imala ukrasne šare od pamučne čipke. Dok sam spuštao noge na pod zamjetih da nosim crne punije najlon hulahopke. Zbunjeno spustih noge na pod. Vjerojatno sanjam. Polako pređoh prstom po nad koljenici. Definitivno su bile najlonke. Ona crvenokosa mi nije dopustila daljnje analize. Prišla je nagnula se i podigla mi poako jedan pa drugi očni kapak. Pažljivo je promatrala svako moje oko. Potom me uhvatila za ruku i mjerila puls. Pokazala je rukom ka gore. "Pokušaj ustati i stajati." Polako i bolno sam se uspravio. Povukla me jedan korak od ležaja. Par minuta me pregledala. Zadigla mi je majicu i pipkala rebra potom ozljeđenu šaku. Iz lječničke torbice na noćnom ormariću je izvadila stetoskop i pažljivo mi slušala po prsnom košu. Spustila mi je majicu okačila stetoskop za vrat i uhvatila me za obije ruke. "Polako jedan korak unazad i sjedi na krevet." Naglasak joj je bio čudan. Učinio sam kako mi je rekla. Dok se naginjala pomažući mi u spustu na krevet zamjetih što je čudno na njoj. Imala je doista velike grudi. Skoro kao dvije košarkaške lopte. To je prikrivala tom širokom bijelom košuljom očigledno muškom. Pažljivo mi je prepipala glavu. Uspravila se i posegnula za torbom. "Pod stresom si od napora i udaraca koje si primio. Izgleda da ništa nije slomljeno. Imaš sreće, a i glava je čitava. Nemaš nikakav podljev ili kvrgu na toj tintari što je dobro, znači da nisi dobio niti jedan udarac u glavu. Sada ću ti dati nešto protiv bolova i za stres, nakon toga ležiš i odmaraš." Klimnula je glavom i izvukla neku ampulu tekućine za injekciju. Minutu kasnije je napipala venu na mojoj nadlanici i osjetih bol od igle koja je prodirala. Čvrsto me držala za ruku dok je spretno ubrizgala sadržaj injekcije u venu. Klimnula je glavom i nasmiješila se. "Dat ću ti i nešto da popiješ ujutro." Odložila je praznu špricu na noćni ormarić i podigla torbu sa kreveta. Pljusnula me malo po obrazu i namignula. Polako se okrenula ka Bosi i Petri koje su zbunjeno gledale. "Bit će on ok, dogovorit ćemo se sutra za još malo kontrolnog pregleda." Ovo je izgovorila na njemačkom. Petra se nasmiješila i poljubila je u obraz. Dok su zajedno izlazile iz sobe Suzi je zagrlila Bosu oko pasa a potom spustila ruku i nježno je pogladila po zadnjici. Pogledah u Petru koja je uzimala špricu sa ormarića. "Žedan sam može čaša vode." Nježno me slobodnom rukom pogladila po obrazu i klimnula glavom. Nestala je iz sobe. Ponovno se pogledah. Stvarno sam nosio tu sivu žensku majicu dugih rukava i hulahopke. Sjetih se da je to Petrin omiljeni stil oblačenja po kući, uopće je po kući nosila majicu par brojeva veću i gaćice te natikače na nogama. Majica je djelovala na njoj kao kratka haljina. Kada bi bilo svježije umjesto majice kratkih rukava navukla bi neku dugih rukava također par brojeva veću i hulahopke. To je bilo sve. Bosa i Petra su se vratile zajedno. Bosa je u rukama nosila bocu sa sokom. Petra mi pruži čašu sa vodom. Pio sam dugim gutljajima. Odložih čašu na ormarić. "Koliko je sati?" Bosa je spustila bocu na ormarić. "Tri ujutro." Pažljivo me pogledala. "Hvala bogu u redu si. Bile smo prestrašene pa sam pozvala Suzi. Prihvatila je da dođe u sred noći i pogleda te." Klimnuh glavom koja mi je i dalje bila teška. "Suzi je vaš obiteljski liječnik?" Bosa odmahnu glavom. "Naš ginekolog ali je prije specijalizacije dugo radila na hitnoj tako da sa ovim stvarima ima iskustva. Jedino mi ona pala na pamet, nismo smjele zvati hitnu, oni sa tučama imaju iskustva i vjerojatno bi tvoje ozljede prijavili policiji. Kod njih ne pali da si pao niz stube, to im je obveza da prijave." Klimnuh glavom i pokazah rukom po sebi. "Vi ste mi ovo navukle? Nije moglo nešto prikladnije?" Bosa me ljutito pogleda zatim se obrati Petri na njemačkom. "Budala se buni zbog oblačenja." Izgovorila je to odmahujući glavom. Okrenula se prema meni. "Bambi ti si sa sobom donio samo par gaća i majica kratkih rukava. Uz to onu smrdljivu vunenu vestu koja je valjda pokupila sve mirise benzina i prašine, e oprale smo je jučer i suši se na balkonu. Traperice više nemaš izuzev u komadima. To je sve što si imao, tanke majice kratkih rukava i gaće. Tresao si se kao prut od hladnoće ispod dvije deke i jedino što smo mogle je navući ti nešto Petrino približno je tvoj broj. Petra ne nosi pidžame ni trenirke znaš i sam kako spava, mogao si umjesto toga jedino dobiti moju spavaćicu i samostojeće ali ti je to premalo na tvoju sreću." Izgovorila je to oštro na njemačkom i sjela na rub kreveta pored mene. Petra se nasmijala i sjela pored nje. Bosa mi je stavila ruku na rame. "Dosta si nas prestrašio tresao si se od hladnoće, a kada si se malo smirio napola si buncao nešto o nekom mačiću i mački. Sada je u redu dobila sam tablete da popiješ sutra kasnije vidimo. Hajdemo polako leći i nama je dosta ove večeri i noći." Osjetih se posramljeno. Zadao sam im dosta problema da bi se još imao pravo na bilo što buniti. Klimnuh glavom. Bosa i petra su ustale i krenule ka drugom kraju kreveta. Polako i oprezno, pazeći da ne radim nagle pokrete, vratih se u ležeći položaj i navukoh deke preko sebe. Cure su se smjestile i ugasile svijetlo. Dok sam padao u san proletjelo mi je kroz glavu. "Živim u stanu sa dvije lezbe, obučen sam kao žensko i upravo me pregledao ginekolog. Bit će dobro ako se ujutro ne probudim sa sisama D+ veličine." Probudilo me dnevno svijetlo. Polako sam otvorio oči. Petra je sjedila do mene. Sjedila je leđima naslonjena na uzglavlje kreveta, a nogu ispruženih ispred sebe po zgužvanim dekama. Čitala je neku knjigu. Na sebi je imala majicu dugih rukava i hulahopke. Polako i bolno se uspravih u sjedeći položaj. Petra se okrenula prema meni. "Jesi ok?" Klimnuh glavom uz osmjeh. U ustima sam imao metalni okus. Pogledah je. "Može kava?" Upitah. Dok sam spuštao noge na pod ustala je i postavila pred mene one njene natikače koje sam nosio od prvog jutra ovdje. Već su se malo raširile od nošenja na mojim nogama. Polako ih navukoh. Petra je navukla one svoje patkica natikače. Pogledala me. "Možeš sam do blagavaone ili kavu piješ ovdje?" Sjetih se da u spavaćoj sobi nema pušenja. Klimnuh glavom prema vratima. "Idemo u blagavaonu ionako moram na wc." Dok sam mokrio osjećao sam se nestabilno na nogama. Rebra su me boljela pri svakom jačem uzdahu, lijeva šaka mi je bila otečena i teško sam pomicao prste. Polako se odvukoh od wc-a do blagavaone. Petra je upravo sipala kavu u šalicu. Dok sam prilazio pokazala je prstom na onaj njen ogrtač, koji sam također koristio od prvog jutra ovdje, a koji je bio položen preko naslona stolice. "Najbolje da ga navučeš vani još pada i hladno je." Polako sam navukao ogrtač i sjeo. Petra je položila pred mene šalicu sa kavom, čašu soka, upaljač i cigarete potom sjela preko puta mene sa šalicom u ruci. Otpih gutljaj kave i zapalih cigaretu. Pogledah polako nadolje promatrajući svoju garderobu. "Bez brige dobro ti stoji." Petra se smiješila na onaj svoj otkačeni simpatični način. Slegoh ramenima, trenutno mi nije bilo bitno. Bilo mi je toplo i ugodno. "Gdje je Bosa?" Petra otpi gutljaj kave. "Otišla je obaviti neke razgovore i kupiti ti nešto za obući. Hlače više nemaš, treba ti i neka punija muška majica, izuzev ako ne misliš ovakav izaći vani." Nasmijala se. "To bi ti se sviđalo?" Slegla je ramenima. "Svejedno, sviđa mi se kada ne nosiš ništa." Pogledah u sivilo kiše kroz prozor. "Koliko je sati?" "Oko dva poslije podne." Začuh otključavanje ulaznih vrata. Minutu kasnije Bosa je ušla u blagavaonu. Spustila je svoju žensku torbu i veću vrećicu na rub stola. Polako je sjela i dohvatila kutiju sa cigaretama. Još je bila komplet obučena, samo je otkopčala jaknu. Zapalila je cigaretu i nasmiješila se Petri. "Može i meni kava?" Dok je Petra išla prema kuhinji pogledala me i gurnula vrećicu prema meni. "Ovo ti dobro stoji ali ne za van. Tu imaš trenirku i toplu majicu. Trebat će ti. Večeras te vodimo kod Suzinog prijatelja na hitnu. Bit će gužva i nitko ne obraća pažnju na bolesnike, tako da će uraditi par snimaka mimo registracije, mislim rebra i šaka da budemo sigurni da je sve u redu." Petra je donijela kavu i sjela na svoje mjesto. Polako otvorih vrećicu na stolu zdravom rukom potom klimnuh glavom. "Super sada imam nešto normalno za obući. Na hitnu ne idem dobro sam, samo mi treba par dana da se vratim u normalu." Bosa me oštro pogledala. "Bambi slušaj, ne ponašaj se kao pijetao u pubertetu. Primimo te u naš dom i našu vezu, vodimo ljubav sa tobom, pokupimo te nakon tvojih gluposti i nastojimo da se izvučeš bez problema, a najmanje što tražimo je da se pregledaš i snimiš kako bi smo mirno spavale ne plašeći se da ćeš tijekom noći pasti u komu od neke unutarnje ozljede. Je to tako puno za tvoj ponos?" Osjetih se posramljeno. Gledao sam ispred sebe u kavu, potom podigoh pogled ka Bosi. "Oprosti nisam to mislio. U pravu si. Idem na snimanje večeras." Uputih joj smiješak. Klimula je glavom i duboko uzdahnula. "Konačno malo pameti." Pokušah se izvući. "Ne zamjeri od kako smo sinoć razbili one siledžije malo sam..." Prekinula me oštro. "Koje siledžije ste razbili sinoć?" Pogledah je zbunjeno. "Onu četvoricu nabildanih. Mislim onog nasilnika Horsta i njegove frendove. Klasična ulična banda, sa takvima smo već imali iskustva doma, oni kuže samo jedno, a to je zakon jačeg." Uzdahnula je duboko potom otpila gutljaj kave, povukla je dim iz cigarete i pogledala me sa strane. "Bambi, Bambi ... niste razbili nikakvu četvoricu nasilnika već četvoricu visoko obrazovanih ljudi kojima je hobi alpinizam pa su zato dobro "nabildani" kako ti kažeš. Dalje Horst nije nasilnik već psihijatar, ako kužiš uopće razliku između nasilnika i psihijatra." Polako sam posegao zdravom rukom za novom cigaretom, znao sam kada upitam za pojašnjenje svega ovoga odgovor mi se neće svidjeti, dapače uopće mi se neće svidjeti. KRAJ DRUGOG DIJELA ŽELI NETKO NASTAVAK? ja :ruke: i ja. hoće li psihijatar ipak izaći kao nasilnik, pitam se sad. :) :thumbleft: Polako sam posegao zdravom rukom za novom cigaretom, znao sam kada upitam za pojašnjenje svega ovoga odgovor mi se neće svidjeti, dapače uopće mi se neće svidjeti. KRAJ DRUGOG DIJELA III Cestom stvarnosti ili slagalica psihologije manipulacije Službenica na recepciji je bila profesionalno ljubazna. "Da koliko vidim gospođa je u sobi, kartica za vrata je u slotu. Što da kažem tko je treba." Trenutak sam razmišljao. "Recite Đoni iz Zemuna bit će dovoljno, ako se nisam zabunio." Upitno me pogledala i podigla slušalicau telefona. Otipkala je broj i nakon pola minute započela formalni razgovor. "Ispričavam se treba vas gospodin Đoni iz Zemuna, čeka na recepciji." Grickala je kratko vrh kemijske olovke slušajući odgovor. Spustila je slušalicu i klimnula mi glavom. "Gospođa kaže da dođete u sobu, to vam je drugi kat desno." Spustila je olovku na pult, zamijetih da je na vrhu olovke ostalo malo ruža. Nije komentirala ništa više. "Hvala vam." Klimnuh glavom i zaputih se ka stubama. Dok sam se uspinjao laganim korakom razmišljao sam što bih joj rekao. Zaključih da nije bitno što bih joj rekao, bitno je bilo par pitanja koje sam joj želio postaviti. Vrata sobe su već bila malo otvorena, znači očekivala me je. Pokucah lagano dva puta. Začuo sam poznati glas. "Uđi Đoni, slobodno uđi." Polako sam otvorio vrata i zakoračio u sobu. Stajala je na sredini sobe u svilenoj crnoj kućnoj haljini i platforma sandalama visoke potpetice. Stavljala je ruž na usne gledajući se u veliko zrcalo na zidu. Prekinula je sa ružem i pogledala me. "Očekivala sam da ćeš doći, zato sam i rekla Mirjani broj sobe." Klimnula je glavom uz osmjeh. "Samo za jedan trenutak nisam bila sigurna da si to ti." "Dobro je da me uopće pamtiš." "Kako bih mogla zaboraviti nekoga tko je ipak obilježio neke stvari u mom životu. Onih koji glume idealiste srećem dosta često, pravi idealisti su rijetki." Pokazala je rukom ka otvorenim vratima balkona. "Sjedi vani molim te, tamo možemo zapaliti cigaretu. Za minutu ti donesem piće, poslije možemo razgovarati zašto si uopće došao. Mislila sam da me mrziš." Polako prođoh ka balkonu iza njenih leđa dok se ona posvetila ružu i usnama. Balkon je bio tipičan hotelski balkon sa nižim drvenim stolom i dvije drvene stolice. Na stolu je ležala pepeljara, kutija cigareta Lucky Strike i srebrni ženski upaljač. Polako sjedoh na stolicu i izvadih jednu cigaretu iz kutije. Dok sam palio cigaretu Goga se pojavila na vratima balkona. Sa tamno crvenim ružem za usne izgledala je dobro. Nasmiješila se. "U mini baru imam mali izbor pića, reci vodka, whiskey, pelinkovac ili loza." "Loza bit će dovoljno." Nestala je iza vrata. Promatrao sam odsjaj sunca na morskoj površini. Goga se vratila minutu kasnije sa dvije hotelske čaše u jednoj i dvije male bočice u drugoj ruci. Položila je čaše na stol otvorila bočice i istresla ih u čaše jednim potezom. Polako je sjela na stolicu preko puta mene, popravila kosu i zapalila cigaretu. Pogledala me i podigli čašu. "Loza po tvom izboru, živjeli Đoni." Podigoh čašu i nazdravih joj bez riječi. Nasmiješila se nekim čudnim osmjehom. "Drago mi je da si živ, nisi se puno promijenio koji kilogram više i koja sjeda vlas više, pogled i te tvoje oči koje mijenjaju boju od svijetlo smeđih do zelenkasto plavih su isti." "Nisi se ni ti puno promijenila, još se držiš." Nasmijala se. "Isti stari Đoni bez puno smisla za komunikaciju sa damama, još se držiš umjesto ostala si zgodna i lijepa." Odmahnula je glavom. "Imam dojam kao da nije prošlo toliko vremena. Dragan je znao često pričati o tebi, kao da mu nikada nisi izašao iz glave." Sjetih se da se Škot zove Dragan, nikada o njemu nisam mislio drukčije izuzev kao o Škotu. Pogledah je dugim pogledom. "Kako je Škot, jeste još zajedno?" Dugo me gledala i otpila još jedan gutljaj iz čaše. Povukla je dim iz cigarete i spustila pogled. "Umro je prije sedam godina od karcinoma štitnjače. Njegov motor je još u garaži i čeka." Polako sam ispraznio čašu do kraja. Ugasio sam čik cigarete u pepeljari i pogledao je. "Žao mi je. Nisam to očekivao." Klimnula je glavom. "I treba ti biti žao, ti si sa njim završio on sa tobom nikada." Slegoh ramenima. "Može još jedno piće?" "Loze više nema u mini baru su samo po dva ista pića vodka ili whiskey." "Vodka." Polako se podigla i nestala u sobi, posegoh za još jednom cigaretom iz kutije, trebalo mi je vremena da se sredim. Dok sam palio cigaretu vratila se i položila četiri bočice 0.1 na stol dvije vodke i dva Whiskey-ja. Sjela je. "Mislim da će nam trebati kako je razgovor krenuo. Predpostavljam da imaš još pitanja, a imam po koje i ja." Posegoh za bočicom i napunih čašu. Ovo nije sličilo na razgovor koji ljudi vode kada se slučajno sretnu nakon par desetaka godina. Sličilo je na razgovor koji je nedavno prekinut. Otpih iz čaše i pogledah je. Dovršavala je piće iz svoje čaše. "Imate djece?" Odmahnula je glavom. "Ne to nam nije išlo. Sve ostalo da ali to ne." Spustila je čašu na stol. "Đoni, Dragan se nadao da ćeš se ipak jedan put javiti ipak ste mladost proveli zajedno." Klimnuh glavom. "Žao mi je." Gledala me je nekim čudnim pogledom. "Ne nije ti žao, uvijek si išao samo ravno naprijed po svojim shvaćanjima časti i svojim pričama u glavi. Ostavio si dosta stvari iza sebe, a da to nisi ni zamijetio, odnosno ostavio si lom u par života tako lagano i jednostavno kao što ispijaš ovo piće." "Kakav lom?" Gledala me nekim dugim i čudnim pogledom imao sam dojam da mi se odgovor neće svidjeti, dapače da mi se uopće neće svidjeti. Kišno popodne Zapalio sam cigaretu i pogledao u Petru. "Mogu dobiti jedno piće mislim da će mi trebati?" Gledala me zbunjeno. "Moraš popiti one lijekove koje ti Suzi pustila pa ne mislim ..." "Daj mu, neće mu biti ništa od toga, daj i meni jedno trebat će nam da završimo razgovor." Bosin glas je bio oštar i razdražljiv, a na njemačkom je zvučao grubo. Petra je pogledala u Bosu potom se digla i krenula prema hladnjaku u kuhinji. Bosa je posegnula za svojom torbom i počela preturati po unutrašnjosti. Zamijetih da na lijevoj ruci kojom je sa strane držala torbu nosi set od pet srebrnih prstena, na svakom prstu po jedan. Prsteni su bili različiti ali po dizajnu na neki način isti i uklapali su se u cjelinu. To je trenutno bila moda u njemačkoj i sviđalo mi se to vidjeti na ženama pogotovu onaj prsten na palcu. Petra se vratila i stavila bocu i dvije čašice na stol potom sjela i posegnula za svojom šalicom kave. "Ja ne pijem, večeras netko treba i voziti." Nasmiješih joj se i napunih čašice. Bosa je konačno iz torbe izvukla neku kutijicu i stavila je pred Petru. "Kupila sam ti to na rasprodaji mislim da je po tvom ukusu." Petra je polako otvorila kutijicu, ispustila jedno sretno "hiiii" i počela vaditi prstene. Polako je položila set prstena sličan Bosinim na stol, jedan do drugoga. Podigla se i poljubila kratko Bosu. Podigao sam čašicu i otpio gutljaj. Bosa je otpila iz svoje i udahnula. "Bambi nisi ti kriv. Kriva sam ja što sam odlagala razgovor i objašnjenja." Otpila je još jedan mali gutljaj, ja ispraznih svoju čašicu do kraja. Petra je navlačila prstene. Kako bi koji podesila na prstu udaljila bi ruku od sebe i pogledala ga. Radila je to kao ozbiljan posao. Bosa mi je klimnula glavom prema njoj i nasmiješila se. Potom se uozbiljila. "Goga je manipulator, svjesni i nesvjesni manipulator uz to je i kuja koja gleda samo svoj interes. Horst je psihijatar kod koga je Goga išla radi liječenja trauma iz djetinjstva i mladosti." "Želiš reći da Horst nije Gogin bivši dečko?" Bosa je uzdahnula i pogledala u čašicu pa meni u oči. "Da Horst je Gogin psihijatar i njen bivši dečko, a Goga ga je ucjenjivala, zato je i došlo do cijele frke. Psihijatar se ne smije seksati sa pacijenticom, ako se to dozna vrlo lako gubi sve dozvole za rad. Samo to nije sve tako jednostavno budući da je Horst više žrtva Gogine manipulacije nego što je Goga žrtva Horsta. Ne znam kako sve ukratko objasniti." Odmahnula je glavom i posegnula za bocom. Napunila nam je čašice i otpila mali gutljaj iz svoje. Ja sam svoju ispio do pola, već sam osjećao da mi je ova "jedna previše", odnosno nije mi se pilo više. Bosa je pogledala Petru, koja je promatrala svoju ruku ispruženih prstiju, pa mene. "Krenuću redom. Kada sam bila u Zemunu i popričala sa Gogom prvi put vidjela sam da nešto nije u redu, odnosno po nekim naznakama zaključila sam da je izložena nasilju u obitelji. Imala sam i sama slična iskustva u obitelji, nasilje u obitelji nije često ali nije ni tako rijetko kako se misli." "Želiš reći da je i tebe netko silovao u obitelji?" Prekinuo sam je zbunjenim glasom. Bosa me pogleda potom se nasmiješi na neki čudni način. "Mene su kolektivno silovali u obitelji. Silovali su me psihički u glavu. Bambi postoje različiti oblici silovanja u obitelji. Ja sam rođena kao žensko i kao bogalj, znaš i sam jedna noga mi je bila kraća. Moji su to doživjeli kao težak hendikep ali ne za mene nego za njih. Nisu bili nasilni ali se nisu niti puno brinuli što ja osjećam, a djeca iz okolice još manje. Djeca znaju biti jako surova." Odmahnula je lagano glavom. "Sa druge strane moji su me stalno pilali kako, ako imam urođenu manu moram završiti sve škole i tako sebi popraviti status u malograđanskom društvu predgrađa. Navodno tada će me svi gledati kao pametnu i nitko neće zamjećivati moju manu. Meni škola nije išla, voljela sam krpice i šivati za lutke. Zato sam i završila srednju tekstilnu. Kada su moji vidjeli da ni školom neću ispraviti nedostatak i razbijene nade obitelji, počeo je pakao prebacivanja. Jedino je baka bila na mojoj strani. Niti ostalo u životu nije bilo bolje." Polako je ispila čašicu do kraja. Petra se uozbiljila i spustila ruku na Bosinu. Nježno joj je stisnula prste. Otpio sam do kraja i spustio desnu ruku na na njenu drugu nadlakticu. Nježno sam je pogladio. Bosa je odmahnula glavom. "Bambi svaki šupak za kojeg sam mislila da mi je dečko je očekivao od mene veliku zahvalnost pokornost i obožavanje zato što me je prihvatio iako sam imala nedostatak u vidu kraće noge. Bez malo kao da su mi učinili beskrajnu uslugu." Polako je izvukla ruku ispod moje i uhvatila me za šaku. "Ti si prvi muškarac i do sada jedini koji me je od početka gledao samo kao ženu, a ne robu sa greškom. I da, razlikovala sam one cure koje su ubijene u pojam od onih koje imaju sretno normalno djetinjstvo, a i znala sam ponešto o silovanjima u obitelji, mislim seksualnim silovanjima. Kod nas se o tome nije pričalo ali ovdje je to otvorena tema. Vratimo se na Gogu. Željela sam joj pomoći, dala sam joj lovu za put i predložila da dođe i boravi kod nas dok se ne snađe. Ja sam ovdje prvi put počela normalno živjeti, ona je završila srednju kemijsku, a to se ovdje tražilo. Bila je kod nas deset mjeseci, usavršila svoj njemački i otišla. Točnije rečeno našle smo joj posao u kemijskoj proizvodnji u jednoj firmi koja radi materijal za najlonke, a naša firma je to kupovala od njih. Našle smo joj i mali stan sa niskim najmom. Oprosti sada idem po malo soka usta su mi se osušila." Polako se podigla i otišla do kuhinje. Pogledah Petru. Bila je ozbiljna i gledala me onim krupnim očima. Vidjelo se da je cijeli razgovor emotivno pogodio. Polako sam je uhvatio za ruku. Nasmiješila mi se potom klimnula glavom lijevo desno. Bosa se vratila sa sokom i skinula jaknu, ostala je samo u crnoj košulji koja joj je dobro stajala. Natočila je i moju čašu. Kvrcnuo sam Petru po nosu i otpio gutljaj soka. Nasmijala se i posegnula za mojom rukom. Polako je skinula prsten sa svoga kažiprsta i prebacila ga na moj do mali prst. Potom je pogledala Bosu. "Ti mu nećeš dati, pa on jedini nema lijepe prstenčiće." Bilo je to u njenom stilu, kada je napeto počne sa glupostima. Bosa se nasmijala i posegnula za svojim prstenom na kažiprstu. Njen prsten mi je stao samo na mali prst druge ruke. Petra me uhvatila za ruke i pogledala ih. "Tako sada smo te označile, sada si naš." Nasmijah se, Bosa se smiješila. Raspoloženje se popravilo. Bosa je otpila još jedan gutljaj soka. Ja sam je slijedio. Potom zapalih cigaretu. Bosa je klimnula glavom. "Znaš meni je za njemačku pomogla Suzi, ja sam željela pomoći Gogi i tako zatvoriti krug odnosno poslati dobru volju i vibracije dalje. Činilo se da se za tih deset mjeseci dobro sredila, da je zadovoljna sa poslom i novim stanom. Međutim vratila se nakon mjesec dana sa pričom da ne može noću sam spavati, da je frka i da sanja da joj je otac pred vratima sobe. Zadržala je stan ali je bila najviše kod nas. Pazile smo je i bile vrlo pažljive prema njoj. Nakon mjesec dana njenog straha i kukanja ubacivanja u naš krevet noću, kako bi navodno mogla sigurno spavati malo je dopizdila. Nismo više bile svoje, a ona nije bila naš đir. Mi smo to poštivale ali ona nije našu privatnost, ponekad je izgledalo da misli da joj trebamo biti zahvalne jer iako smo lezbe ona se druži sa nama. Dopizdilo je pa joj predložih da ode do psihijatra na malu pomoć i opuštanje. Ja sam isto išla kod psihijatra nakon nekoga vremena ovdje i to mi je pomoglo da skroz povratim samopouzdanje. Jednostavno mi je u par mjeseci objasnio da nisam ja greška nego sredina koja me osuđivala." Prekinuh je. "Je taj psihijatar bio Horst?" Odmahnula je glavom. "Ne, Horst je bio drugi psihijatar kod kojeg je išla. Prvi je bio Herman, stari i iskusni psihić ali dobra duša. Volio je pomagati ljudima. Bila je kod njega na seansama oko tri mjeseca, a tada joj je rekao da prekidaju, da rade pauzu od par mjeseci i da je za početak to dosta. Vratila se ljuta. Ta tri mjeseca smo je nosile na rukama tetošile i pazile. Nije ništa radila u kući i postupno se počela ponašati kao razmaženo derle. Bila je ljuta pa sam nazvala Hermana i pitala ga zašto je prekinuo tretman. Odgovorio mi je da je pred kraj pokušala manipulirati svojim pričama sa njim, odnosno da je mijenjala priče o tome što joj se događalo od strane oca i majke u onom pravcu za koji bi pretpostavila da bi njega seksualno ili na neki drugi način zainteresiralo. Na taj način je željela zadržati pažnju na sebi. Isto tako mi je rekao da djeca koja su bila seksualno ili na drugi način zlostavljana u obitelji često razvijaju sustav manipulacije na način da ugađaju izjavama ili nekim svojim postupcima onim koji ih zlostavljaju, kako bi na taj način postigli malo sklonosti i izbjegli neke dodatne nasilne stvari. Na taj način se osjećaju manje bespomoćnima. Recimo silovana curica kaže ocu koji je silovao kako je lijep i da joj se to svidjelo kako bi ga odobrovoljila i izbjegla neke druge grubosti. Pod svjesno neki razviju perfidnu manipulaciju koju prenesu na sve ostale postupke u životu. Upozorio me i da ne dopustimo manipulaciju." Bosa je zastala i otpila malo soka. Potom je polako otkopčala par gornjih gumba na košulji izgledalo je da se počinje opuštati. Nastavila je smirenije. "Gnjavia nas je još nešto više od mjesec dana. Nakon toga smo joj na lijep način pokazale vrata. Što je dosta, dosta je, a bilo je dosta. Jedina pogreška je bila možda što smo je na početku upoznale sa Suzi." Mahnuh rukom u stilu "samo malo". "Sa liječnicom Suzi? Je ona vaš đir?" Bosa klimnu glavom. "Da sa liječnicom. Je naš đir i nije. Ona je u drugom filmu što se tiče seksualnih sklonosti." Nisam izdržao. "Neka od vas je bila njena ljubavnica?" Bosa odmahnu glavom i otpi gutljaj soka. "Ne mi ne ali u jednom periodu Goga je. Tako je i došla do Horsta, Suzi je preporučila. U stvari mislim da je Goga otkrila Suzine sklonosti i opsesije i to dobro iskoristila. Kao što je uradila i sa Horstom samo je njega skoro dovela na rub, a vi ste joj u tome sada pomogli." Trebalo mi je nešto da razbistrim glavu. Posegnuh ponovo za sokom i dopunih čašu ispio sam je u nekoliko gutljaja. Potom posegnuh za cigaretom. Bosa je čekala dok sam zapalio cigaretu. "Rekla sam ti da je složeno. Goga je bila pod svjesni, a potom svjesni manipulator ili svjesni od početka. Samo joj je trebao pogodan teren da se razvije, a ovdje ga je na žalost našla." "Kada je počela to sa Suzi?" "Ne znam, kod nje je uvijek išlo još po nešto paralelno. Igrala je igru i sa šefom na poslu, što i kakvu ne znam, samo znam da je i tamo bilo frkica ali nakon devet mjeseci je postala voditelj grupe. To bi joj sa srednjom školom bio strop u kemijskoj struci. Međutim postala je i voditelj odjela." "Kojim to postupcima, kako je izmanipulirala Suzi? Dalje nije mi jasno kako jedan psihijatar može postati žrtva manipulatora? Ja ti ili netko od neupućenih da ali smuljati psihijatra manipulacijom skoro pa znanstvena fantastika." Bosa me pogledala i odmahnula glavom. "Znaš i psihijatar je čovjek, a ne stroj. Iako kuže sve stvari i imaju neku obuku i pražnjenje kod drugih psihića i oni imaju svojih seksualnih sklonosti fantazija i slično. Goga igra na tu kartu." Pogledah kroz prozor u sivilo kiše, stvarno nije bio dan za teške razgovore. Odlučih ipak rasčistiti do kraja. "Krenimo redom kako je i zašto smuljala Suzi da je poslije preporuči Horstu?" Bosa slegnu ramenima. "Ne znam sve detalje ali prvo zašto je smuljala. Suzi je ugledna liječnica polu njemica i majka joj je iz ugledne obitelji ovdje. Njena poznanstva i veze su jake, a Gogu to izgleda pali u smislu da i sama stekne poznanstva od utjecaja. Suzi priređuje zabave za cure i ponekog pristojong dečka. Bira dečke koji nisu nasilni i koji ne pametuju o moralu ili zabadaju nos u tuđe sklonosti. Odemo ponekad kod nje na zabavu i uvijek bude ugodno. Na početku smo vodile i Gogu da se malo opusti i upozna ljude. Tako je upoznala Suzi. Kako je smuljala, jednostavno je znala što i mi ostale, da Suzi ima najviše sklonosti ka ženama ali da najviše voli ženski grupni seks, mislim ono još koja cura u svemu, a sklona je pomalo i egzibicionizmu. Vjerojatno je izmanipulirala da je i ona u tome do kraja odnosno sudjelovala je dovoljno da je malo zaludi. Suzi joj je dosta pomogla oko drugog stana i slično čak joj je i poklonila komplet pokućstvo." Bio sam već pomalo van živaca. "Što je Suzi unatoč tome što je dovoljno pametna da postane liječnik toliko glupa da je nasjela Goginim pričama i glumi ili Goga ne glumi baš sve?" Petra se do sad nije miješala u razgovor. Iznenada je ljutito podigla pogled. "Daj Bambi ne budali. Goga to radi spretno. Instiktivno osjeti mekše ljude koji su skloni pomoći drugima, nakon toga ide red slabosti tek toliko da se žrtva zainteresira za nju, potom red povlađivanja i ugađanja pa red dominacije. Ovo ponavlja u krug uz put otkrije slabost u seksualnim sklonostima i to iskoristi kao završni udarac. Suzi je dobar čovjek, tko bi drugi prihvatio doći u dva po noći i zajebavati se sa tvojim ozljedama uz to znajući da ste joj upravo razbili dobrog poznanika. Suzi ima dušu i to veću dušu nego cice." Nasmijala se. Klimnuh glavom zaključujući u sebi da stvarno ima dušu. Pazio sam da ništa od toga ne kažem glasno. Sekundu kasnije se posramih što sam to cinično pomislio. Petra je bila u pravu, tko bi prihvatio pružiti pomoć u tim uvjetima. "Znači smuljala je Suzi ali kako Horst dolazi u tu priču?" Bosa je počela nekim glasom kao da objašnjava djetetu. "Pretpostavi ... odglumila je kod Suzi da je pod psihičkim stresom i slično iz razloga da je dodatno zainteresira iz tko zna kojih pobuda, a ova je nasjela i uz pažnju joj ponudila pomoć psihijatra poznanika. Tako Horst ulazi u igru." "Kako je smuljala psihijatra?" Bosa se nasmija. "Tatin i mamin sin. Otac mu je u pravosuđu ovdje neka viša faca nešto kao glavni istražni sudac ili slično, uglavnom pomogao nam je par puta oko prometnih prekršaja. Mama mu je profesor na fakultetu sociologija ili slično. Samo izgleda da nije baš sve kako treba u obitelji pa je jedino dijete pokupilo koješta u glavi. Mislim na komplekse i slično, sigurno nisu bili nasilni niti uvrnuti. Vjerojatno je požurio na psihijatriju kako bi prvo sebi pomogao oko nekih stvari. Goga je to na tretmanima skužila i na neki način otkrila koje i kakve priče treba pričati da ga zainteresira profesionalno i seksualno. Priče su se pretvorile u to da su je svi u obitelji silovali, a to smo čak radile i nas dvije kada je došla ovdje, sve sa detaljnim opisima. Tu je valjda negdje povučen neki otponac ili znak jednakosti između njih. Nakon tretmana i završenog liječenja su sreli kod Suzi na nekoj zabavi, najvjerojatnije ne slučajno, pa su uleteli u vezu. Skraćeno Goga uz priču da je zaveo i seksualno koristio psihijatar koji joj je trebao pružiti pomoć ima i šest polaroid slika njih dvoje u dosta bizarnom izdanju. To bi bilo dovoljno da Horsta košta budućnosti, a njegova obitelj bi bila dodatno u govnima do grla, radi sramote." Sve mi je bilo pomalo previše za pratiti i prihvatiti. Prekinuh je pomalo živčano. "Kako to sve tako detaljno znaš?" Pogledala me prijekorno kao da sam rekao da ne govori istinu. "Ponešto od Suzi, a ostalo od Horsta, danas sam razgovarala sa njim. Goga ga je dan prije pozvala da dođe u Western Gold navečer u određenom razdoblju, kako bi dogovorili zadnje detalje i uvijete da mu vrati one slike. Samo nije računala da će povesti i frendove sa alpinizma." Dok sam prstima vrtio čašu od soka gledao sam prazno u čašicu ispred sebe. Petra je dohvatila bocu i nasula još po jednu čašicu meni i Bosi. Znao sam da mi alkohol neće pasati ali dohvatih čašicu i ispraznih je u dva gutljaja. Bosa je polako pijuckala svoju. Djelovala je iscrpljeno. Trebalo mi je vremena da stvari malo posložim. Zapalio sam još jednu cigaretu, ni to mi nije pasalo. Rebra su me boljela pri svakom naglom pokretu. Pogledah Bosu. "Na kraju jesi sigurna za Suzi i Gogu, mislim ono za ženske grupnjake? Možda se Suzi samo malo hvali." Petra se namrštila pridigla sa stolice i preko stola me kvrcnula prstom po glavi. Bosa me gledala sa izrazom nekoga tko pokušava tvrdoglavom djetetu objasniti da je zemlja okrugla, a ne ravna ploča. "Znam da Suzi govori istinu budući da nije muškarac, pa se nema razloga uz šank i pivu hvaliti lovačkim pričama. Kod nas to malo drukčije ide. Nadalje rekla sam ti da je Suzi po malo egzibicionist pa ima i neke dodatne sitnice za pokazati. Uostalom ako ne vjeruješ pitaj je sam. Vidjet ćeš je večeras, vodi nas kod tog prijatelja na hitnu. Pozajmila je auto prijateljici pa idemo po nju. Nakon hitne idemo do nje na piće. Rekla je budući da joj kvarimo večernje planove radi jednog buzdovana, koji nije u stanju razmisliti prije tuče, da joj dugujemo malo društva, tek toliko da ne provede večer sama u stanu. Strpljenja skužit ćeš sve." "Čudno mi je da si razgovarala sa Horstom, on te zvao?" Bosa umorno odmahnu glavom. "Ja sam zvala Suzi i zamolila je da ga nagovori na razgovor ako može pričati nakon onog kolektivnog štemanja. Jednostavno sam željela biti sigurna da nitko neće miješati policiju odnosno da ti nećeš nahebati radi svoje gluposti. Suzi kaže da je teško prihvatio budući da je vozio prijatelje kod poznatih lječnika na pregled, nakon onog sinoć. Ipak smo se našli na kraju u kafiću blizu njegovog stana. Ima podljev na lijevoj strani lica, vlasniku za šankom je objasnio da su jučer popodne malo trenirali, pa je "popustilo uže za vezivanje". Mislim da mu nije vjerovao ali je uljudno klimnuo glavom. Objasnila sam mu da ste izmanipulirani, na sranje od priče o nasilnom bivšem dečku. Složio se da je najbolje ne miješati policiju niti njemu to ne odgovara mogla bi cijela priča isplivati na vidjelo. Ukratko popili smo kavu i razjasnili situaciju, jedina novost je da mu je Goga tražila pomoć oko promaknuća na višu poziciju u firmi uz ostalo što su dogovorili, kada je popizdio prijetila mu je "opasnim prijateljima" iz starog kraja." Živčano ugasih cigaretu u pepeljari. "Stvari sjedaju na mjesto. Ako je tako vjerojatno je zato išla smuljati i izmanipulirati Škota." Odmahnuo sam glavom. Bosa spusti ruku na moju. "Bambi ne mora biti tako, Škot je lijep i zgodan dečko uz to je obrazovan i šarmantan. Možda joj se svidio ili je sve to na njemu privlači. Možda joj samo paše imati lijepog, zgodnog i šarmantnog dečka par godina mlađeg od sebe, to joj diže ugled u očima ostalih." Telefon je zazvonio. Petra se digla i krenula prema telefonu, prvo normalnim korakom, a potom odskakutala na jednoj nozi držeći drugu koso podignutu ispred sebe i imitirajući neki zvuk u stilu "boink oink boink". Podigla je slušalicu potom izgovorila kratko da se pričeka sekundica i pogledala prema nama. Mahnula mi je držeći slušalicu u ruci. "Strela." Podigoh se polako pazeći da ne radim nagle pokrete. Dok sam preuzimao slušalicu zamijetih onaj ženski prsten na ruci i pomislih da je sreća što ne postoji video veza, ne bih volio da me vidi u ovom izdanju. "Halo Đoni kako si?" "Halo razbijaču, još se nekako držim na okupu. Malo su mi stradala rebra i lijeva šaka, večeras idemo to snimiti i provjeriti. U kojem si ti stanju? "Donja usna mi je malo otečena i lijeva šaka. Sve u svemu ništa strašno jedino još par dana neću moći povući kvačilo. Nema veze. Da nisi uletio kada je bilo loše prošao bih gore." "Strela nisam mislio da tebe mogu srušiti dvojica amatera." "I nisu, upravo su pasli asfalt kada sam vidio da je Škot u problemima sa onim Horstom, bio ga je dobro uhvatio. Uletio sam pomoći Škotu, dok sam uvaljivao onom Horstu koji direkt sa leđa pridigao se jedan od one dvojice i srušio me, tada si ti uletio. Bila je to dobra tuča." Šutio sam kratko. "Valjda." Zvučao sam kiselo ne znajući što misliti nakon svega. Zašutio je kratko, zbunjen mojom reakcijom. Kada je produljio djelovao je malo nesigurno. "Čuo sam se sa Škotom, on je uglavnom OK, ti si najgore prošao čini mi se. Možeš se normalno kretati?" "Svakako samo malo ubija ova depresija od kiše. Kako je kod tebe?" "Pijemo kolu, grickamo čips i gledamo tv. Bruna se smirila nakon sinoć, nije joj baš sve jasno i imam dojam da baš i ne voli Gogu, malo je kisela vjerojatno ovaj prokleto kišni dan." "Je uz sve što me boli još i depresija od kiše, hvala što si se javio ja sam mislio malo kasnije zvrcnuti tebe." Šutio je par sekundi. "Škot je rekao da se najvjerojatnije za tri tjedna ženi sa Gogom, pa da se dogovorimo da ostanemo do tada. Ništa mi nije jasno, čemu žuri toliko. Pitao sam. Navodno jedino tako može dobiti boravak i radnu dozvolu, preko braka. Zvao je nekog poznanika da mu u općini izvadi svu dokumentaciju, da je da na prijevod na njemački i ekspres pošalje. Goga može dobiti iz ambasade sve za par dana, nakon toga treba do tjedan dana da zakažu vjenčanje." Napravio je pauzu. "Đoni meni je sve čudno, kao neki čudesan san. Od jutros držim malo leda na usni i razmišljam. Ništa mi se ne uklapa i kog vraga je skočila na njega, kao mačka koja je ulovila miša i frkće na nas od straha da joj tog miša ne otmemo, što li ....." Odlučih da je bolje za sada ne govoriti mu ništa. Bio je dovoljno uznemiren. "Strela mislim da ti mogu ponešto objasniti kada se vidimo. Bit će sve u redu. Najbolje da prespavamo noć budemo pametniji sutra. A vas dvoje pređite na pivu ili nešto konkretno pa bude manje kiselo i manje razmišljanja." Nasmijao se. "Možda si u pravu, možda me samo ova depresija od kiše malo ubija. Kada se vidimo? "Nastojat ću sutra ali ne vozim pa ovisim od cura. Najbolje da se čujemo ujutro i dogovorimo." "OK čujemo se ujutro, ako nešto treba javi. Bog Đoni." "Bog Strela." Spustio sam slušalicu i prišao stolu. Posegao sam za vrećicom sa odjećom, vjerojatno ću se osjećati bolje kada se presvučem. Bosa je spustila ruku na vrećicu. "Ostavi to za sada, kupila sam to na brzaka na rasprodaji. Moram barem dobro poglačati sve, da se malo sterilizira. Tko zna gdje je sve ležalo." Umorno je slegla ramenima. "Čim se odmorim poglačam ti. Do tada moraš ostati ovako." Nasmiješila se. "Uostalom dobro ti stoji." Petra je prasnula u smijeh. Potom se uozbiljila. "Imaš dobre noge za minicu, duuuge." Nasmijale su se i poljubile. Pogledah kroz prozor u sitnu kišicu i poslije podnevnu svijetlost dana. Prokleto kišno popodne pomislih. Pornografija Suzi se vratila pričajući sa likom u bijelom mantilu. Bila je u trapericama i traper jakni vjerojatno dva do tri broja većoj od odgovarajućeg. Na taj način je večeras prikrivala prevelike grudi. Lik mi je bio simpatičan na prvi pogled. Niži prosijed, ugodnog pogleda i ponašanja. Dok su se pozdravljali nasmijali su se nekom komentaru, očigledno su bili u dobrim odnosima. Suzi polako priđe i namignu nam. "Snimci su ok. Sve je ok, ovaj buzdovan nije polomio ništa." Od početka sam za nju bio "ovaj buzdovan". Sa curama se smijala i pričala, meni izuzev profesionalne nije ukazivala neku drugu pažnju. Digli smo se sa stolica čekaonice i krenuli ka izlazu hitne. Bosa je išla pored Suzi i nešto pričala, Petra je išla pored mene. Malo je usporila i cimnula me za ruku. Polako mi je prilazila gledajući u pravcu Suzi i Bose koje su se udaljavale. Kada je očigledno ocijenila da su dovoljno daleko namignula mi je. "Idemo kod Suzi na neku hladnu večericu i igrati jamb. Suzi je dobar domaćin ali ako bude malo čudna u ponašanju prihvat to kao normalu, OK?" Klimnuo sam glavom. "Sve ok samo reci u kom smislu čudna?" Petra se nasmijala. "Ništa strašno, nema opasnosti da te siluje bez brige." Namignula je i povukla me za ruku. Bosa i Suzi su nas čekale pored auta. Sjeo sam naprijed pored Petre koja je vozila. Njih dvije su se smjestile na zadnje sjedalo. Petra je oštro krenula sa parkinga i ubacila se na cestu. Spretno je vozila slalom sa jedne na drugu voznu traku, probijajući se kroz gužvu. Iza mene Bosa je upitala Suzi. "Kako je Holz? Je on isto čitav ili?" Nešto u tome me natjeralo da se okrenem čekajući Suzin odgovor. Suzi je blago odmahnula glavom potom klimnula. "Čitav je samo par dana će jesti tekućinu na slamku, ima otečene usne i toliko plavica po licu da ga niti rođena majka neće prepoznati, na sreću sve će proći bez posljedica." Nisam izdržao. "Tko je Holz?" Suzi se polako nagnula malo bliže meni. "Lik kojeg si sinoć dobro rasturio dušo. To mu je nadimak izgleda ko komad hrasta." Bez obzira na sadržaj nije zvučalo zlobno. Pogledah je u oči. "Žao mi je, mislio sam da je jedan iz neke siledžijske bande." Suzi se još malo nagnula prema meni, pri tome su se grudi u traper jakni naslonile na moje sjedalo. Gledala me u oči sa strane koliko joj je to položaj dopuštao. "Prvo ga razbiješ, a poslije kažeš da ti je žao. Stvarno si ili dijete ili malouman, prije bi se reklo ovo prvo. Holz mu je nadimak radi izgleda, inače čovjek je diplomirani sociolog i vjerojatno je dosta pročitao o takvima kao ti. Trebam ti vjerovati da ti je žao?" Ni ovaj put nije bila zlobna, prije je sve zvučalo pomalo tužno. Petra se umiješala. "Objasnile smo Bambiju situaciju danas, kada se uspio izvući iz kreveta. Shvatio je da je pogriješio. Suzi se malo odmakla od mene. Koliko sam uspio vidjeti u tami auta pogled joj je bio ozbiljan. Kada je progovorila glas joj je bio znatno topliji od one ledare minutu prije. "Znaš buzdo ljudi su rođeni da se maze i uživaju, a ne da jedni drugima nanose bol. Zato slijedeći put u toj praznoj kutiji koju nazivaš glavom potraži mrvu mozga prije nego uletiš i ištemaš prvog koji ti se ne sviđa. Ja sam postala liječnik ne radi bijelog mantila i titule već zato što doista želim pomagati ljudima u nevolji." Odmahnuh glavom. "Stvarno mi je žao." Spustila je ruku na moje rame. "Vjerujem. Što je učinjeno učinjeno je i nema nazad. Na sreću svi ste ostali više manje čitavi i bez posljedica." Malo je pojačala stisak i povukla ruku. Ostatak vožnje sam šutio. Njih tri su intenzivno pričale kao da ja nisam prisutan. Imena mi nisu bila poznata ali sam doznao da su neke cure, iz njihovog kruga, našle novu vezu. Da se u ekipi pojavio slatki nježni uljudni dečko sa jednom Suzinom bivšom, jedna cura je promijenila make up na nešto što uopće ne pristaje njenom licu, a na tri mjesta su bile super rasprodaje. Ovaj razgovor mi nije smetao, dapače nakon sjebanog dana mi je pasalo ne slušati ništa o čemu bih morao razmišljati. Zamijetih da je Suzin običaj bio da se curama obraća sa "šećeru" ako ih ne bi zvala imenom. Na neki način je to dobro zvučalo ma kako ofucano bilo. Dnevni boravak Suzinog stana je bio klasično uređen, nikakav luksuz izuzev što je bio prostran. Ne znam iz kojeg razloga sam očekivao nešto luksuzno i uvrnuto. Garnituru od trosjeda, dvije fotelje, stola i ormara za pića upotpunjavala je samo jedna kožna fotelja očigledno anatomski prilagođena. HiFi uređaji, televizor i videorekorder su bili u specijalno izrađenoj polici naspram te kožne fotelje. Jedino su slike i tepih odavali dojam skupoće i kvalitete. "Šećeru, za tebe je najbolje da se smjestiš u ovu anatomsku fotelju. Tako nećeš imati položaj koji opterećuje rebra." Ovo je bilo upućeno meni. Ostao sam iznenađen. Od Suzi bih u najboljem slučaju očekivao da mi se obrati sa "buzdovančiću", "buzdo" ili nešto slično." Oklijevao sam pa je uz smiješak klimnula zapovjednički glavom prema fotelji. Krenuh polako sa namjerom da radim što manje oštrih pokreta pri sjedanju. Suzi se okrenula ka curama. "Vi ste ovdje domaće pa se smjestite gdje vam padne na pamet. Idem po aperitiv za početak, dobila sam sjajan grčki uzo, to morate probati." Nestala je prema kuhinji i blagavaoni koja je bila u nastavku dnevnog boravka. Bosa se smjestila u fotelju puštajući svoju torbu na pod. Petra je svoju torbicu bacila pored trosjeda izula tenisice i pružila se na trosjed gledajući u strop. Suzi se vratila sa vlažnom bocom neobično izduženog izgleda, očigledno je do sada bila u hladnjaku. Stavila je bocu na podmetač na stoliću i izvadila čašice iz ormarića za pića. Dok je to radila dva puta je prstima počešala Petru po trbuhu uz smiješak. Petra je samo reagirala sa jednim "mmmmm" blago njišući kukovima lijevo desno. Nazdravili smo. Petra je nazdravila ležeći. Suzi je svoju čašicu istresla "na eks". Ja sam pažljivo otpio. Piće je bilo ok, pa sam si priuštio još jedan gutljaj. Suzi je nasula još jednu čašicu i ispraznila je. "Cijeli tjedan frka na poslu, nisam popila ni kapi. Večeras ću malo nadoknaditi. Vi se opustite i prepustite." Nestala je u pravcu blagavaone i kuhinje. U narednih pet minuta je donijela zdjele sa čipsom, kanape sendviče, zdjelu maslina, blok i kockice za jamb. Ubacila je kazetu u HiFi kazet deck i prostoriju je ispunio ugodni ritam Jazz glazbe šezdesetih. Dok je sve završila ispraznila je još jednu čašicu, a uz četvrtu je napunila i naše prazne čaše. Zapalih cigaretu. Večer je krenula uz zvuk kockica na stolu i daljnji ženski razgovor. Ja sam više šutio. Nakon jednog sata ili nešto više i dvije čašice dalje Suzi je odložila kockice i nasmiješila se. "Idem se presvući u nešto ugodnije, kasnije idemo zajedno postaviti stol i gricnuti tu hladnu večeru. Naručila sam, ketering finih papica." Nestala je iz dnevnog boravka, a Petra mi je namignula iz ležećeg položaja u koji se ponovno bacila. Bosa je sa smiješkom polako otpila još jedan mali gutljaj iz čašice. Ja sam zapalio novu cigaretu. Iz zvučnika je Eric Clapton pjevao svoj "Ocean bulevard". Suzi se vratila u prozirnoj plavoj haljini i sandalama na visoke potpetice. Ipak je ispod zadržala grudnjak gaćice i hulahopke. Izgledala je čudno i zadovoljno da paradira na taj način. Zamjetih da je stvarno bila skladno građena izuzev prevelikih grudi koje su počivale u jednom od onih specijalnih grudnjaka. Mahnula je glavom prema nama. "Idemo na večeru, poslije imamo film "Vatrene ulice" za pogledati." Mene su smjestile za okrugli stol u blagavaoni, a one su postavile tanjure i pribor. Na stolu se našla boca nekog crnog vina i čaše. Iz hladnjaka su donesena dva pladnja, na jednom je bila klasika hladnog nareska i sira, a na drugom hladni losos usoljene haringe i gomila kavijara na sredini. Toster i paket kruha za prepečenac su bili postavljeni na stol, "pa neka svatko sebi napravi po volji". Večera je počela zdravicom sa vinom. Suzi je bila u elementu, pogladila je Bosu par puta po zadnjici dok su postavljale stol i dala Petri dvije puse u usta dok je točila vino. Mene je blago ignorirala. Ipak je u jednom trenutku dok je išla po coca colu za Petru spustila ruku na moje rame i nježno me stisnula. To je bilo sve, očigledno samo znak pažnje. Šutio sam i polako žvakao u kakofoniji ženskih glasova i tema. Nakon skoro sat vremena Bosa me upitno pogledala. "Đoni je ti dobro? Dosta si se ušutio i povukao, što je? Osjećaš se ugroženo?" Suzi se nasmijala. Nakon vina je već bila crvena u licu i vesela. Odmahnuh glavom. "Bilo je ovo pasje kišno popodne za mene. Još se pokušavam složiti nakon svega što sam čuo." Suzi me pogleda upitno. Petra je nabola komad lososa na vilicu i ubacila ga u usta. Bosa je slegnula ramenima i pogledala Suzi. "Suzi njemu je teško prihvatiti sve to o Gogi, čak mislim da ne vjeruje da je bila sa tobom i zabavljala se sa curama." Suzi me pogledala i odmahnula glavom polako lijevo desno, potom se nasmijala. "Goga je kuja, teška kuja nakon svega ovog što je učinila. Počekaj malo nevjerni šećeru pokazat ću ti nešto pa zaključi sam." Suzi se spretno podigla od stola unatoč piću i nestala iz blagavaone. Bosa me fiksirala u oči, Petra je gomilicu kavijara naganjala po tanjuru pri tome imitirajući zvuk buldožera, nju očigledno nije ništa zanimalo. Suzi se vratila sa plavom kuvertom u ruci. Bacila je kuvertu pred mene i sjela na svoje mjesto. "Pogledaj i vrati na mjesto, bit će dovoljno da ti do kraja otvori te poluotvorene okice mačiću slijepi." Polako sam podigao kuvertu i pogledao natpis. Pisalo je Goga 9 kom. U gornjem lijevom kutu kuverte je bila napisana brojka 42. Očigledno je kuverta bila dio veće kolekcije. Izvadih devet polaroid slika iz kuverte, polako sam ih pogledao. Sve su prikazivale Gogu u eksplicitnim seksualnim situacijama sa još dvije ili tri žene. Pornografija kakva se mogla poželjeti. Vratih fotografije u kuvertu i položih je pred Suzi. Klimnuo sam glavom. "OK to je to. Goga je manipulatorska kuja." Suzi mi namignula. "Ipak joj želim svako dobro ako ne nanosi štetu drugima, bila je komad koji se pamti." Pokupila je kuvertu i nestala. Znao sam da će je vratiti na točno mjesto u tko zna koliko velikoj kolekciji. Pitao sam se što sve te slike sadrže. Suzi se vratila i otpila iz svoje čaše potom se okrenula i sa ozbiljnim izrazom lica upitala. "Znate li da sam otkrila medicinski razlog zašto žene imaju kovrčave stidne dlake. I znate li zašto?" Pogledala nas je i nasmijala se. "Da ne bodu u oči." Ostatak večeri proveo sam u polu snu jedva držeći oči otvorene. Šok alkohol i napor su uzeli svoje. Nisam uspijevao pratiti film, a teme razgovora uz film me nisu zanimale. Suzi je sjedila u fotelji preko puta mene više pričajući sa curama manje prateći film. U jednom trenutku je prekinula razgovor i mahnula rukom pred mojim očima. Trgoh se. Pogledala me u oči. "Što je, tako te zanima kako izgledaju?" Shvatih da sam umoran spustio pogled i nesvjesno ga fiksirao na Suzinim grudima, bio sam toliko umoran da sam ga mogao fiksirati i na nogu od stola, bilo mi svejedno. Suzi je to rastumačila na drugi način. Nasmijala se. "Dobro da ne mučimo dečkića i njegovu radoznalost." Polako se digla skinula onu prozirnu haljinu i otkopčala grudnjak, potom je sjela i skinula grudnjak. Dok je to radila nagnula se malo naprijed. Dvije velike cice su se spustile na Suzine natkoljenice, sa velikim bradavicama i tamnim krugom oko njih. Izgledalo je kao groteska ali je bilo i nekog jakog erotskog naboja u tome. Suzi se nasmijala podižući čašu. "Ako želiš možeš ih i opipati ali to je sve što ću ti dopustiti." Nesvjesno sam odmahnuo glavom gledajući je u grudi, pri tome nisam mislio na Suzinu ponudu. Nastao je terenutak neugodne tišine. Petra se stvori pored mene, očigledno se mačjom spretnošću podigla sa trosjeda. Klimnula je glavom prema meni. "Hej ako on neće mogu ja, ja ću, ja ću." Suzi i Bosa su se počele smijati. Ja sam motao misao po glavi. Na kraju se pojavila potpuno i kristalno jasna. Pitao sam se ima li itko normalan, izuzev mene, u ovoj priči koju živim. Istodobno shvatih da je pitanje krivo postavljeno, ispravno bi bilo "ima li itko normalan u ovoj priči". Definitivno ni ja nisam po svim važećim standardima bio normalan. Bilo mi je normalno da živim sa dvije cure koje su u vezi, da na njihovu vezu gledam kao nešto normalno, postanem dio te veze nosim njihovu odjeću i ne razmišljam o tome. Što je uopće i značilo biti normalan izuzev ako nije značilo da drugima ne nanosiš zlo. Unatoč svemu Goga bi mogla proći kao normalna da nije manipulacijom izazvala toliko problema. Počeo sam tonuti. Netko je sjeo do mene na naslon fotelje i protresao me za rame. Podigoh pogled prema Petri koja me sa smijehom gledala odozgo. Namignula je. "Hei jesi vidio kako sam ih ćooopila?" Klimnuh glavom i zaključih da definitivno nitko nije normalan. Pomislih na Škota. Sjetio sam se one priče o zidaru gast arbeiter – u koji je upoznao lijepu ženu u njemačkoj, zaljubio se i oženio na brzaka. Nakon par godina braka bio je na terenu i zidao nešto. Bilo mu dosadno za vikend pa otišao do sex shop-a da kupi neku pornografiju za zabavu i "ručni rad" navečer. Kupio na rasprodaji neku deblju knjižicu kompilacije sličica i navečer krenuo u razgledavanje. U porno priči sa sličicama, pod nazivom "Ispunjeni svi mogući pravci", na slikama, po liku madežima na specifičnim mjestima te još nekim detaljima, prepozna svoju ženu. Na svu sreću Suzi ne dila pornografiju. Sam na cesti Probudilo me jutarnje sunce. Ležao sam na krevetu ne razmišljajući ništa, pitao sam se koliko je sati. Polako sam zbacio pokrivač sa sebe, spustio noge na pod i potražio one Petrine natikače. Sjetih se da su Petra i Bosa doma. Petra je završavala neki tečaj programiranja u Dbase 3 pa je uzela godišnji, a Bosa je izjavila da nas ne pušta same i također uzela godišnji. Petra je ispit trebala polagati za par dana, nakon toga su bile slobodne za pravi godišnji. Polako sam krenuo prema blagavaoni. Pokušao sam stisnuti lijevu šaku ali nije išlo. Bol u rebrima je već osjetno popustila ali šaka još nije bila u redu, pitao sam se kako povući ručicu kvačila. Krajem tjedna sigurno ne mogu nazad doma. U razgovoru sa Strelom odlučili smo ne čekati Škotovo vjenčanje. Nakon što sam mu objasnio veći dio od onoga što sam čuo, preskačući samo one pornografske fotke koje je Suzi napravila, odlučili smo da je najbolje da se više ne miješamo. Dok smo mi pričali u dnevnom boravku Bruna je vodila razgovor sa curama u blagavaoni. Činilo se da se dobro uklapaju. Osjećao sam se frustrirano. Danas je utorak, kako ide najmanje još tjedan dana neću biti u stanju voziti. Valjda Strela nema ništa protiv polaska slijedećeg tjedna. Bosa je sjedila za stolom u blagavaoni čitajući novine, Petra je bila za kompjuterom i nešto tipkala. Bosa se nasmiješila. "Može kava?" Klimnuo sam glavom. Petra je samo podigla pogled sa kompjutera i mahnula mi rukom. Sjeo sam za stol i zapalio cigaretu čekajući kavu. Bosa mi je donijela čašu soka. Sjetih se da odavno nisam ništa skuhao, bio bi red da danas pokažem još neko svoje kulinarsko umijeće i oslobodim cure brige o ručku. Zadnjih par dana bile su jako pažljive prema meni, osjećao sam se kao parazit. Kava u šalici je dobro mirisala, nasmiješih se Bosi, telefon je zazvonio. Bosa je krenula prema telefonu, ja sam otpio gutljaj kave. "Bambi!" Okrenuh se prema Bosi koja je držala slušalicu u ruci. "Za tebe je." Polako krenuh prema telefonu. Mogao je biti samo Strela ili možda nadao sam se Škot. Nakon našeg zadnjeg telefonskog u kojem sam mu objasnio da ne ostajemo i da bi bio red da sam objasni sve svojima i Ljilji bio je jako kiseo. Podigoh slušalicu. "Halo Đoni , Strela je. Kako si?" "Ne baš dobro, rebra su bolje ali šaku još ne mog skupiti, mislio sam te zvati da odgodimo polazak za idući tjedan, neću moći pritisnuti kvačilo." Slijedilo je razdoblje tišine. "Đoni ja danas krećem doma. Jednostavno moram. Škot je javio svojima i Ljilji da ostaje i ženi se. Kada je Škotova mama čula sa kim se ženi poludila je. Ona ima jako loše mišljenje o Gogi još od davnih dana dok je bila u Zemunu. Ljilja je popizdila kada je čula priču, nazvala je Ljilju i u suzama joj sve ispričala." "Stani." Prekinuh ga. Složio sam sve u par sekundi tišine potom produljih. "Kako stvari stoje čak nam je i bolje da odložimo povratak. Svi će se ispuhati za tjedan dana i nama ostaje manje pitanja za odgovoriti, kao i manje prebacivanja. Uostalom kako znaš sve te detalje, zvao si nekoga?" "To sam ti upravo želio reći kada si me prekinuo. Škot je pustio Gogin broj telefona svojima, za slučaj da nešto trebaju. Škotova Ljilja je nazvala njegovu mamu i isplakala se na ramenu. Izvukla je broj telefona uz obećanje da će pokušati urazumiti Škota. Međutim dala je telefon mojoj Miri sa zadaćom da prije toga od mene izvuče sve što može o cijeloj situaciji." Napravio je par sekundi pauze. Kada je produljio glas mu je bio ljutit. " E sada dolazi ono najbolje. Ljilja je nazvala kod Goge kako bi razgovarala sa mnom. Goga se javila i znaš što je uradila." Šutio je par sekundi i potom nastavio naglašavajući svaku riječ. "Dala joj je broj telefona kod Brune sa objašnjenjem da je najbolje da me potraži i popriča tamo i da je više ne uznemirava. Mira je nazvala i dobila Brunu. Normalno šokirala se. Na svu sreću nije pitala za mene po nadimku već imenom. Razgovor je bio na engleskom i Bruna je mislila da traži tebe. Odgovorila je da ti nisi trenutno tu ali da je "Strela u sobi i gleda tv", pa ako hoće da priča. Javio sam se i izvukao na to da je Bruna tvoja trenutna cura itd.. Normalno bila je sumnjičava ali nekako je progutala budući da sam otišao do Brune i zamolio je da joj potvrdi na telefon kako si slatki njezin dečko." Ponovno ga prekinuh. "OK daj mi par sekundi da to svarim. Znači službeno za doma ja sam bio sa Brunom. Nema problema napišem ti ispričnicu za Miru, zamolimo Brunu da ja i ona napravimo par fotki kako se grlimo i sve na svom mjestu. Znači nema ..." Prekinuo me. "Đoni nije to tako jednostavno. Slušaj dalje. Pizdarije su bile kako se i moglo očekivati. Ljilja ili Mira nisam više siguran tko je nazavala moje. Objašnjenje koje im je servirano bilo je da smo sva trojica upali u loše društvo, a uz Škota ti i ja završili kod nekih sumnjivih cura koje vjerojatno mislim ženiti radi ostanka u Njemačkoj. Babe ko babe. Ne bi to bio problem ali dala i broj telefona kod Brune. Moja mama nazove i javi se Bruna normalno ne skuži niti riječi francuskog i pozove mene. Kada sam se javio stara na rubu suza i panike, nije pomagalo ništa, zalupi slušalicu kada sam pokušao biti razložan. Pet minuta kasnije ponovo zvoni telefon. Zove tata. Objasni mi da on nema ništa protiv, dapače da mu je drago što mu sin nije "smotana budala" ali da se mami naglo pogoršala situacija sa srcem. Nađem se u govnima...." Zašutio je. Sjetih se da je Strelina mama imala nekih manjih srčanih problema ali da liječnici nisu to smatrali opasnim. Opasno je bilo samo za Strelinog starog kojeg je uvijek, kada njoj nije nešto bilo po volji, maltretirala "da je dobila srčani napad nakon toga što joj je rekao". Par puta je Strela ispričao te scene uz smijeh na temu "kako je mama stisnula starog". Pokušah oprezno. "Strela misliš da joj je stvarno loše nakon toga što je čula?" Nakon par sekundi tišine počeo je polako i razložno. "Ne znam Đoni nisam siguran da je loše. U biti boli me ku..$..c ako ona pizdi zašto sam sa nekom ženom i što radim sa ženama u životu ali probleme sa srcem sigurno ima. Postoji i nekih dvadeset posto šansi, nakon što su svi napravili frku, da je stvarno i dobila neki napad. Ne bih želio da mi majka doživi srčani napad i otpluta na onaj svijet samo zato što ja mislim da je osamdeset posto šansi da folira. Nadalje znaš da mi je stalo do Mire. Jednostavno danas idem nazad i računam stići čim prije. Želim te samo vidjeti prije polaska." Šutio sam, kada sam progovorio jedva sam prevaljivao riječi preko usana. "Strela možeš doći do Bosinog stana ili da zamolim nekoga da me vozi?" "Nema potrebe da moliš mogu se snaći do tamo, samo izađi vani za sat vremena molim te, ne želim ništa pričati pred Bosom." Prekinuo je bez pozdrava. Polako sam sjeo za stol i posegao za kavom, pogledah na sat bilo je jedanaest, znači za sat vremena "točno u podne". Bosa me promatrala zabrinuto. "Problemi?" Klimnuh glavom. "Objasnit ću sve kasnije kada čujem još neke detalje." Zapalio sam novu cigaretu. Ovo će biti dugo čekanje. Strela je spretno smotao ka garaži. Čekao sam dok je silazio sa motora podizao ga na nogare i skinuo kacigu. Dali smo si pet bez riječi. Pokazah prema zidiću oko susjedne kuće. "Možemo sjesti tamo." Klimnuo je glavom i krenuo. Počekao sam dok smo se smjestili i dok nije zapalio cigaretu. "Da li si nazvao Škota i pokušao objasniti situaciju, mislim da bi trebao znati što se događa." Povukao je jedan dugi dim cigarete i klimnuo glavom. "Jesam, javila se Goga i zalupila mi slušalicu." Polako sam slagao stvari u glavi. Stvarno je bilo sve van pameti. "Zašto se tako ponaša. Nismo joj uradili ništa na žao. Tretira nas kao uljeze u životu. Vjerojatno radi Škota ali i onako ga je smotala." Strela je šutio. Kada je progovorio bilo je to umornim glasom. "Znaš Đoni Škot je lijep i zgodan uz to u našem kraju važi kao dečko iz ugledne obitelji. Razmišljao sam nakon svega što si mi ispričao. Tko zna što se mota u Goginoj glavi i koje komplekse liječi. Uostalom više nije niti bitno. Bruna mi ispričala još par detalja o Gogi, u biti je one večeri kada smo se upoznali jedva i prihvatila naći se sa njom. Mislim da je Goga i ovdje u njemačkoj sama. Izjebala je pola okolice iz nekog materijalnog interesa i nema baš prijatelje. Ima par bivših ljubavnika kao "prijatelje" i skoro ništa više. Škot je popizdio za njom i vjerojatno joj ukazuje dosta pažnje. Znači više nije sama i ima pažnju. Mislim da smo mi za nju samo likovi koji joj žele uzeti Škota." Gledao sam u ruke analizirajući sve što je Strela rekao. Imalo je logike. Klimnuh glavom. "Nije mogla znati da odlazimo. Muči me samo što ništa ne mogu učiniti za Škota. Nije bitno sa kojom je ali od djetinjstva smo frendovi i volio bih da je barem svjestan sa kojom se upušta. Ako je, nije me više briga ali mislim da sam mu trebao reći. Uostalom uvijek je bio na neki način naš duhovni vođa nije li tako?" "Ne Đoni, nije to to. Razmišljao sam nakon svega. Škot je u biti samo razrađivao tvoje ideje i poneku moju i davao im smisao, u sve ove godine nije pokazao neku osobnost. Kada bolje razmislim više si ti bio duhovni vođa nego on. Samo smo ga mi doživljavali tako. I ovdje smo dospijeli na tvoju inicijativu, on je kao uvijek samo usklađivao ekipu. Dobar je dečko ali bez neke osobnosti. Naletio je na jaču osobnost i poklopila ga je. Tko zna koje seksualne sklonosti se motaju u njegovoj glavi, a ova je to nanjušila. Želio sam te vidjeti samo da ti kažem da te ne napuštam. Ne mislim ni da je mami tako loše. Jednostavno ne želim da se slučajno nešto sa mamom dogodi, a da ja sebi poslije prebacujem cijeli život da se to moglo izbjeći da sam se pokupio i došao doma na dan dva. Ako želiš ili budeš trebao vratit ću se po tebe nakon par dana doma kada sredim situaciju." Pljesnuh ga zdravom rukom po ramenu. "Ne budali. Lakše meni jedan put voziti sam nego tebi dva puta sam i jedan put u mojem društvu. Kako ti je šaka? Imaš sve što ti treba za put?" Podigao je ruku, šaka mu je još imala onu plavkastu boju međutim dosta lako je skupio prste. "Još malo boli ali ne moram baš često mijenjati brzine." Nasmijao se i odmahnuo glavom. "Bruna mi je dala jednu staru deku i neki stari šator za jednu osobu od neke njene frendice kojoj to više ne treba, bit će dovoljno. Sva kamp oprema je ostala kod Goge, a ja ne želim više tamo." Sjedili smo još par minuta u tišini. Strela je polako ustao. "Đoni vrijeme je da krenem." Podigao sam se i stavio mu ruku na rame. Gledao sam ga u oči. On je svoju ruku položio na moje rame. "Sretno Strela." "Sretno Đoni." Krenuo je ka motoru. Nije se osvrtao, jedino je pri polasku mahnuo rukom. Promatrao sam dok nije nestao u daljini. Čekalo ga je puno kilometara samog na motoru od 175 ccm. Polako sam ušao u blagavaonu. Bosa me pogledala dok sam sjedao na stolicu. "Bambi izgleda da su stvarno problemi?" Klimnuh glavom. Dok sam se vraćao u meni je kuhalo. Dosta pizdarija smo izgleda otrpjeli radi Goge, a slabo što se dalo ispraviti i uopće imalo svrhe ispravljati. Ipak mi je isplivala jedna stvar u smušenom moru misli. Bila je jedna stvar koju bih mogao ispraviti. Pogledao sam Bosu. "Bosa možemo li se naći sa Suzi. Zamolio bih je za jednu uslugu. Molim te." Bosa je polako složila novine i krenula ka telefonu. Minutu kasnije sam čuo njezin glas. "Bok Suzi, kako si?" Pauza. "Znam da si na poslu." Pauza. "To znači da imaš dobar pogled." Smijala se. "Molim te ako se možemo vidjeti, Bambi bi te zamolio za neku uslugu?" Nasmijala se vrlo glasno potom spustila slušalicu. Polako je prišla stolu i sjela dok je vadila cigaretu iz kutije namignula mi. "Može, sutra navečer možemo navratiti do nje pa pitaj. Rekla je samo da ti ovaj put ne pokazuje ništa, prošli put kada je to uradila pao si u nesvijest." Sjetih se da sam, prošli put, nakon što je Suzi pokazala cice zaspao par minuta kasnije, izmučen iscrpljenošću i onim što sam doznao. Probudile su me nakon dva sata i odvukle do auta. "Takve cice se ne viđaju svaki dan. Reći ću samo da su vaše ljepše." Začuh nakašljavanje iz dnevnog boravka. Petra me gledala i plazila jezik, sjetih se da ona ima male grudi. Bosa se samo nasmiješila i odmahnula glavom. Ja sam mislio na Strelu čekalo ga je puno kilometara. Sva duga putovanja vozili smo zajedno. Prvi put je sam na cesti. Sloboda Čekao sam pod suncem pored motora na parkingu. Dobro je grijalo za kasno poslije podne. Crni BMW serije 5 je skrenuo sa ceste. Polako se parkirao na par metara od mene. Čekao sam dok je Horst izašao i zatvorio vrata. Gledali smo se. Nakon skoro minutu vremena je napravio tih par koraka do mene i klimnuo glavom. "Suzi me zamolila da se nađem sa tobom. Ne vidim svrhu, nemamo jedan drugom što reći izuzev da smo žrtve manipulacije ipak njoj za ljubav tu sam." Pružih mu ruku. "Kao prvo želim ti se ispričati." Gledao je u moju ruku kratko vrijeme potom je prihvatio. Dok smo se rukovali gledao sam ga u oči. Klimnuo je glavom. "OK, a kao drugo?" Polako sam posegao u gornji džep jakne i izvukao kuvertu. Izvadio sam šest polaroid fotografija Goge i Horsta i raširio ih kao karte u ruci. Pokazao sam ih polako da mu bude jasno što pokazujem. Zbunjeno je gledao potom klimnuo glavom. "OK što tražiš za slike?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Ništa, samo te želim osloboditi, toliko ti dugujem nakon svega." Polako sam složio fotografije i vratio ih u kuvertu. Bez ikakve žurbe izvadio sam Zippo koji sam, po meni prije sto godina, dobio na poklon i zapalio kuvertu sa slikama. Gledao sam kako gori uz specifičan miris plastike sa polaroid fotografija. Pred kraj bacih je na zemlju i razmazah čizmom ostatke. Gledao me prvo začuđeno, a nakon toga nekim čudnim izgubljenim pogledom. "Kako si došao do toga?" "Suzi i jedan prijatelj su mi pomogli. Tebi to nije važno Goga te nema više ni sa čim ucjenjivati, nakon svega ostala je samo njena izjava protiv tvoje, to ne pali i slobodan si." Dugo je gledao u mene. "Da popijemo piće tu u kafiću?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Nema potrebe, nas dva smo završili svoju priču. Ti si slobodan da ideš svojim putem bez prijetnji nad glavom, a ja se oslobađam i vraćam svojim putem, sretno." Klimnuo je glavom i krenuo prema autu. Okrenuh se i skinuh kacigu sa motora. Polako se okrenuh prema njemu. Držao je otvorena vrata BMW-a jednom rukom, drugom mi je mahnuo. "Bila je ono dobra tuča Đoni, a nadam se da se Goga dovoljno tresla dok ti je dala ove slike." Mahnuo je još jedan put rukom i sjeo u auto. Čekao sam dok crni BMW nije nestao sa parkinga. Nije bilo lako pomislih prisjećajući se detalja. Polako sam zajahao motor i startao. Šaka me još boljela dok sam pritiskao ručicu kvačila. Bosa me samo pogledala kada sam ušao u dnevni boravak. Imao sam dojam kao da sam Petru i nju prekinuo u nekom razgovoru koji ja nisam trebao čuti. Polako sam sjeo u fotelju. Petra je ustala sa trosjeda i dala mi pusu Bosa je samo mahnula rukom. Imao sam dojam kao da je Petra posebno nježna prema meni zadnjih par dana. Pogladio sam je po zadnjici. "Mogu dobiti piće? Trebalo bi mi." Petra je klimnula glavom i nestala u pravcu kuhinje. Minutu kasnije postavila je čašicu i bocu tequile na stol. Nasula je i sjela. Jednim potezom iskapio sam čašicu i zapalio cigaretu. Bosa me promatrala. "Nema te od jutros, brinule smo se ruka ti je u lošem stanju, a ni rebra ti nisu još posve dobro, gdje si bio?" Pogledah je i napunih drugu čašicu. "Vratio sam Horstu one slike kojim ga je Goga ucjenjivala." Bosa je raširila oči. "Kako si došao do toga?" "Goga mi ih je dala." "Kako? Zašto bi ih tebi dala?" "Sjećaš se posjete Suzi?" Klimnula je glavom. "Zamolio sam je da mi da tri slike na koiima je Goga iz onog seta njene kolekcije. Što misliš zašto?" Slegnula je ramenima. "Kada si zamolio Suzi za slike postavila ti je uvjet da joj kažeš zašto ti trebaju. Rekao si da želiš shebati Goginu manipulaciju, pa ti je dala tri kako si tražio ali uz uvjet da ih ne zlorabiš, a na moju riječ. Jamčila sam joj za tebe, a nisam niti pitala zašto si uzeo njen broj telefona." Klimnuh glavom. "Točno odabrao sam tri najeksplicitnije, one gdje se Goga jasno vidi i nema zabune da je to ona. Jutros sam prvo otišao do Gogine firme i zamolio službenicu na ulazu da je nazove. Malo je oklijevala ali kada sam joj rekao da imam nešto što bih mogao pokazati Škotu ako ne dođe na razgovor prihvatila je. Našli smo se u kafiću u blizini. Pokazao sam joj slike i rekao da ću ih pokazati Škotu i ispričati mu sve ali da odustajem od toga ako mi da one slike sa Horstom. Prvo je izjavila da mi Škot neće vjerovati, a možda se neće ni vidjeti sa mnom ako mu ona to kaže. Potom je razmislila i prihvatila. Rekla je da to sa Horstom ionako više nije bitno. Rekao sam joj da mi dostavi slike do tri sata poslije podne. Kada sam dobio svih šest slikica sa Horstom dao sam joj one tri. Potom sam nazvao Suzi i zamolio je da organizira susret sa Horstom oko pet." Bosa me začuđeno gledala, a Petra je sjela na naslon fotelje i poljubila me. Kada je progovorila Bosa je i dalje djelovala zbunjeno. "Kako si znao da će prihvatiti razmjenu?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Nisam znao ali sam igrao na kartu da joj je stalo do Škota, odnosno da joj je jako stalo." Bosa je zbunjeno gledala potom je posegnula za cigaretama. Zapalila je cigaretu slegla ramenima i otpuhnula dugi dim. "Znači umjesto da pokažeš slikice prijatelju i kažeš mu sa kim ima posla iskoristio si ih da pomogneš nekome koga uopće ne poznaješ. Čudno izgleda kao da si prodao prijatelja u zamjenu za pomoć strancu." "Ne Bosa. Prijatelj nas je napustio. Za svo vrijeme, od kada je sa Gogom, Škot nije nazvao nit mene niti Strelu izuzev kada smo mu trebali. Nakon toga se isto nije javio. Možda ni to ne bi bilo bitno ali mislim da bi mi definitivno teško povjerovao sve ono za Gogu, čak i sa slikama. On je Gogu vidio na svoj način i ja sam mu teško mogao pomoći. Uradio sam jedino što sam mogao zaigrao na kartu da je Gogi stalo do njega. Da je Goga odbila razmjenu pokušao bih razgovarati sa Škotom i pokazati mu slike. Kako je prihvatila znači da joj je stalo do njega i najbolje da se ipak ne miješam. Jednostavno." Petra me zgrlila i dala mi jedan dugi poljubac. Bosa je klimala glavom. Potom me upitala. "A što sada?" Nasmiješih se. "Sada je sloboda, nitko više nije vezan ni sa čim, samo naša slobodna volja i izbor." Bosa se nasmiješila. Inicijacija Nisam mogao uhvatiti dah, gušio sam se. Mačić je osjećao jaku bol i hladnoću, bol je bila sve jača i ma koliko glasno plakao nije nestala. U trenutku kada je osjetio da je bol neizdrživa, osjetio je da ga mama liže i gura njuškom. Bol je nestala i osjetio je toplinu. Nije bio ni svjestan da je prešao granicu postojanja. Naglo sam se probudio. Pogledao sam na sat, bilo je tri ujutro. Kroz polu spuštene rolete spavaće sobe dopirala je slaba svjetlost ulične svjetiljke. Petra je spavala do mene sa jednom rukom na mom ramenu. Bosa je spavala do Petre sa rukom oko njezinog struka. Polako sam sklonio Petrinu ruku i ustao pazeći da ih ne probudim. Spustio sam se do dnevnog boravka i sjeo za stol. Natikače sam donio u ruci i sada ih navukoh. U gaćama i majici mi je bilo dovoljno toplo. Pokupih cigarete sa stola i zapalih jednu. San me je uznemirio. Nisam skoro nikada imao teške snove. Polako sam posložio dijelove sna i povezao ih sa stvarnošću. Bilo je to "doba sazrijevanja". Negdje oko 15 ili 16 godina. Još smo vozili naše sklepane skutere od 49 ccm. Parkirali smo ispred trgovine sa namjerom da kupimo Cocktu i tirolsku salamu za odlazak na pecanje. Na skuterima su bili pričvršćeni rasklopljeni štapovi za pecanje i male torbe. Trebao je to biti ugodan dan. Tada smo začuli glasno histerično mijaukanje mačke i prodorno glasanje mačića. Dopiralo je iza trgovine pa začuđen mahnuh glavom ka Škotu i Streli u pravcu mijaukanja. Iza trgovine je bilo par garaža u malom slijepom prolazu. Na kraju prolaza, pregrađenog zidom, upravo ispred zida bila je skupina naših vršnjaka. Prepoznao sam Acu Psinu, tada još Acu Glavonju, kao i članove njegove neslužbene bande. Već tada je sa četiri lokalna nasilnika pokušavao zavesti neki svoj red i pravila, među nama sličnih godina, u predgrađu. Uvidio sam da ih je sada šest na okupu, znači bio je netko novi u igri. Par koraka bliže bilo mi je sve jasno. Aca je držao neki jeftini lovački nož u ruci i bocnuo vezanog mačića ispred sebe, ne dovoljno da ga ubije ali dovoljno da mu nanese jaku bol. Mački su špagom bile svezane zadnje noge, a drugi kraj špage je bio vezan za vrata garaže. Na boku je već imala duboku posjekotinu nožem. Unatoč svemu je prednjim capama grebala po asfaltu pokušavajući doći do mačića koji je bio predmet mučenja. Pri svemu je histerično mjaukala. Bijes me je polako i hladno obuzimao. Krenuh polako naprijed sa namjerom da prekinem cijeli sadistički ritual. Aca se obraćao liku ispred sebe. "Nemaš muda proći inicjaciju, a želiš biti naš član. E ne ide to tako. Ovako se to radi, a ti kasnije imaš dovršiti mačku mlakonjo." Naglo se okrenuo spušatajući se u čučanj zabio nož do kraja u vezanog mačića i uspravio se. Mačić je samo ispustio neki čudan zvuk. Eksplodirao sam. Dok sam trčao odgurnuo sam jednoga od onih kretena na putu sa leđa. Odletio je i pao svom duljinom na lice. Uletio sam u Acu. Bilo mi je svejedno da li me Škot i Strela prate samo sam želio Acinu krv, na meni, na asfaltu, na njegovoj glupoj faci. Bio je iznenađen i za čudo pružio je slab otpor. Dok sam ga štemao samo je dva puta uspio izbaciti "Bambi". Sklupčao se na asfaltu dok sam ga udarao nogom. Osjetih da me netko vuče za rame. "Bambi dosta, ubićeš ga i odgovarati kao za čovjeka." Strela me čvrsto uhvatio za ramena sa leđa i odgurnuo od Ace. Polako sam dolazio sebi. Još četvorica su bila na zemlji. Očigledno Škot i Strela nisu puno oklijevali. Škot je prišao mačiću i izvukao nož. Odmahnuo je glavom potom prišao vratima garaže i oslobodio mačku u dva poteza noža. Nije se mogla osoviti na noge. Strela je prišao i pokupio je u naručje pazeći na ozljedu sa strane. Dvojica od Acine bande su se polako uspravljala zbunjeno gledajući. Škot je pritrčao i jednom uputio udarac nogom u zadnjicu tijekom ustajanja. Pao je ponovno. Drugi je otrčao ne okrečući se. Prišao sam Aci koji se polako uspravio i uhvatio ga za revere traper košulje. Podigao sam ga koliko mi je to snaga dopuštala. "Slijedeći put kada te uhvatimo u našem kraju mrtav si. Nadam se da je to jasno." Odgurnuo sam ga od sebe. Zateturao je i okrenuo se nespretno. Ona preostala trojica su već bila na nogama. Aca se polako zaputio dalje od nas ne osvrčući se kao da je imao strah ako pogleda unazad da će nas to razljutiti. Ostatak bande je bez riječi krenuo za njim. Strela je prišao polako meni i Škotu, držeći mačku u naručju. Pokazao je glavom ka mački. "Imamo li dovoljno love da je odpeljamo u poljoprivrednu stanicu veterinaru?" Slegoh ramenima. "Iskeširat ćemo koliko imamo ostalo neka napišu meni na dug, jedan poznanik mi pohađa srednju veterinarsku i trenutno ima tamo praksu." Mačku smo kasnije udomili kod Streline tetke. Kasnije se ista hvalila da je ta maca dobar lovac i super frend sa kojim može uvijek pričati, bolje nego sa mužem. Posložio sam sve u glavi, Strela je javio da je doma i da je sve izgladio. Nazvao sam moje i otrpio deset minuta prebacivanja i ispitivanja. Slagao sam da imam nekakav poslić pa ostajem još malo. Međutim nisam imao mira. Mislio sam na Strelu koji je sada sam, a Aca Psina je čekao obračun. Mislio sam o Jovi pjesniku kojeg je Aca pretukao. Ovdje jednostavno nisam imao više što raditi. Sa druge strane nije mi se napuštalo Petru i Bosu. Nije mi se niti vraćalo doma. Moji su mi ispričali da je bila Škotova mama u posjetu i za sve što se dogodilo njenom sinu jedincu optužila mene. Da ja nisam odveo njezino dobro dijete kod te kurve u njemačku sve bi bilo u redu. Pogledah na sat. Bilo je prošlo četiri sata. Mozgao sam dulje od sata. Priđoh hladnjaku i natočih sok u čašu. Pokupio sam čašu i cigarete i smjestio se u dnevnom boravku. Dohvatih daljinski i uključih TV. Na programu je bio neki kaubojac. Bilo je smiješno gledati Clint Eastwooda kako govori njemački. Ipak je to bio dovoljno dobar film da mi skrene pažnju. Nakon dva sata i još dvije čaše soka počela je neka komedija u jutarnjem programu. Sat na televizoru prije početka filma je prikazao 6 i 45. Polako se digoh i odšetah do kuhinje. Ubacio sam filter i kavu u automat i uključio ga. Dok sam točio kavu u šalicu dodao sam šećer. Prvi gutljaj je bio dobar. Telefon je iznenada zazvonio. Nisam imao običaj podizati slušalicu kada su cure doma ali bilo je rano i nisam ih želio buditi. Na moje halo začuo sam Škotov glas. "Halo Đoni vidim da si budan. Moramo se naći i razgovarati." Zvučao je živčano i čudno. "Koji je problem Škot?" "Kada se vidimo." "Gdje želiš da se vidimo?" "Onaj parking na jezeru gdje smo bili na večeri sa onim njemcima, za jedan sat, može?" "Za sat i pol to je meni malo dalje. Veza se prekinula. Nije mi zvučao kao Škot bilo je to neko drugo izdanje. Pogledah po dnevnom boravku razmišljajući gdje su one jeftine traperice koje sam nakon tuče kupio. Zapazih na naslonu fotelje prebačene crne kožne traperice koje mi je jućer sa neke rasprodaje moto opreme donijela Petra. Onaj remen koji mi je kupila prvi put već je bio u njima. Sjetih se da sam trapke morao odmah isprobati kako bi cure vidjele da mi dobro stoje. Dohvatih ih i navukoh. Potom sam potražio čizme. Dok sam se oblačio popio sam ostatak kave iz šalice. Dohvatio sam kacigu i krenuo prema vratima. Cure se bude oko devet malo neizvjesnosti gdje sam im neće škoditi, a bolje da ih ne budim. Škota sam lako uočio na parkingu. Stao sam par metara od njega i ugasio motor. Stajao je u crnoj kožnoj jakni i kožnim hlačama. Crni Kawasaki "Vulcan 400" je bio parkiran iza njega. Drugi motor na parkingu nisam uočio. Polako sam okačio kacigu na upravljač svog MZ-a i okrenuo se ka Škotu. "Tvoj motor?" Mahnuo sam glavom prema kawasaki-ju. Klimuo je glavom. "Moj, vjenčani dar od Goge." "Lijepa makina. Nadam se da si sretan?" Odmahnuo je glavom. "Đoni zašto ti je sve to trebalo?" Iznenađeno ga pogledah. "Što Škot?" "To sa Gogom i Strelom?" "Što Škot? Budi jasan." "Želiš reći da ti nisi rekao Streli da je najbolje da se vratite i mene odjebete? Da mu nisi rekao da je Goga kurva i da je najbolje ne mješati se?" "Od kuda ti te ideje?" "Nazvao sam Strelu i kada nije htio pričati sa mnom Goga mi je rekla da joj se javio prije polaska i ispričao sve." "Strela je rekao Gogi, da sam ja rekao da je kurva i da tebe treba zato odhebati? Da, valjda mu je bolji prijatelj od tebe i mene pa joj se povjerava. Ne budi naivan. Goga igra opet neku svoju igru." "Ne seri Đoni ti si igrao svoju igru." U meni je počeo ključati bijes. "Koju igru Škot? Možda samo to što ti nisam rekao sve što sam doznao o Gogi?" "Možda samo to što si je pokušao ucijeniti bijednim metodama kako bi dobio pičke?" Ovo je izbacio ljut i nabrijan. Prišao je jedan korak bliže i izvadio nešto iz džepa. Gurnuo je neke slike prema meni. "Đoni što ti je ovo trebalo, bijedna fotomontaža vidi se i time si je pokušao ucijeniti da ti da pičke, kada već nije bila voljna sama to učiniti?" Posegoh za slikama koje mi je pružio. Bile su tri. Pažljivo ih pogledah. Bile su iste tri slike koje sam dao Gogi ali na ovima je bio jasno vidljiv trag rezanja i spajanja i nisu bile polaroid već obične slike. Bilo je jasno da su originalne slike izrezane položene na podlogu i slikane širokokutnim aparatom. Tako su dobivene tri slike koje su izgledale kao fotomontaža likova i djela. Tko li je ovo odradio za kuju. Sama nije bila dovoljno sposobna za tako nešto. Bio sam bijesan. "Škot ovo je montaža ali ja nemam ništa sa tim. Uostalom što ti je rekla Goga da razjasnimo detalje pa možemo dalje." "Rekla mi je da si došao sa ovim slikama i pokušao me ucijeniti za seks i da me napusti, kako bih se vratio doma." Odmahnuh glavom. "Slušaj prijatelji smo od djetinjstva ja ne bih tebi, naglašavam tebi, uradio ništa slično tome što ti je rekla. Da dao sam joj slike ali ne ove koje mi podmećeš. Originalne slike su bile polaroid slike, a ne obične. Ujedno kada smo već na tome želim ti reći ponešto o Gogi, ono što su mi Bosa i ....." Bijesno je podigao ruku. "Ono što su ti lezbače ljute što im nije dala pi..%..u ispričale, ista pašta mozga kao i tvoj, gdje vam je ponos što mislite ako su je maltretirali u djetinjstvu da je svi imate pravo iskoristiti?" Pred kraj je skoro vikao. Pobjesnio sam. Bilo mi je dosta Goge i njenih igrica. "Škot kao prvo ne zovi Bosu i Petru lezbačama. To je njihova i moja stvar ti se nemaš što miješati. Kao drugo Goga je manipulator teški manipulator i slušajući tebe sada mislim pokvarena kurvetina koja pi..%..u daje sami iz int...." Udario me je u pleksus, kratkim snažnim udarcem odozdo. Presavio sam se na dolje. Uputio mi je još jedan udarac odozdo ravno u vilicu. Pao sam. Ležao sam na asfaltu pokušavajući doći do daha i razbistriti glavu. Kada sam se napokon digao stajao je par koraka od mene u raskoraku i gardu. Očigledno je čekao da ga napadnem. Stresoh malo glavom da dođem sebi. Osjetio sam krv u ustima. Progutao sam i pogledao ga. Djelovao je nabrijan. Gledao sam ga u oči. To više nije bio Škot. Upitah se što je njega mučilo u životu. Koju slabost je Goga otkrila u njemu, čime ga je uhvatila u mrežu u seksualnom dijelu. Shvatih da mi nije bitno. Dok sam ga gledao u oči polako progovorih. "Škot žao mi je." Okrenuo sam se i prišao motoru. Dok sam stavljao kacigu ponovo sam progutao krv. Zajahao sam motor. Pogledao sam u njegovom pravcu. Spustio je ruke i gledao me. "Đoni stani možemo ..." Pogledao sam ga i startao motor. Tada sam ga vidio posljednji put. Dok sam vozio često bih progutao krv. Skužih da nešto nije u redu. Vjerojatno sam dobro razrezao unutarnjost usne o zube kada me udario. Bosa i Petra su pile kavu kada sam ušao. Frka je nastala kada su zamjetile krvavu maramicu koju sam naslanjao na usne. Sat vremena kasnije Suzi se pojavila u stanu. Spustila je torbu na stolić u dnevnom boravku. Pogledala me. "Šećeru do kada ću ja ovdje dolaziti u svako doba dana i noći radi tvojih tuča?" Slegoh ramenima. "Nisam se tukao tukli su mene." Usna mi je već bila natečena pa je to sve smiješno zvučalo. Pljesnula me po ramenu. "Znam Petra mi sve ispričala, nokautirao te onaj tvoj blesavi prijatelj radi one ludače Goge. Sada zini da pogledam." Par minuta kasnije je odrezala kraj kirurškog konca i spakirala iglu. "Šećeru dobro te mlatnuo. Budi miran ovo ti zaraste za pet šest dana tada izvadimo konce. Pustit ću ti nešto protiv bolova." Izvadila je neku kutijicu iz torbe i pustila je na stolu. Okrenula se prema meni. "Horst mi je sve ispričao, dobar potez si napravio i kako sam skužila sada si platio za to. E pa na žalost u životu je često tako ovo ti je inicijacija, na dobro djelo koje učiniš moraš biti spreman i na jedno loše prema sebi, valjda je to ravnoteža." Pogladila me po obrazu. "Budi dobar i miruj malo, ako ne budeš dobar ponovo ću ti pokazati cice." Sve tri su se počele smijati. Sve tri su se počele smijati. Polako sam podigao čašu i liznuo malo pića. Odlučih ne ići do kraja i slušati njena mišljenja o svemu što se dogodilo. Želio sam postaviti još neka pitanja i to mi je jedino bilo važno, što Goga misli o svemu, njen problem. "Goga zašto si napravila sve ono, mislim Škota si imala nije ti trebala manipulacija sa nama?" Šutila je par sekundi okrečući čašu u ruci. Potom me pogledala. "Škot je bio čovjek kakvog sam željela imati. Lijep, zgodan, pažljiv, obrazovan i iz ugledne obitelji u starom kraju. Mislim da sam uvijek bila sama. On je tu samoću ispunio. Više nije bilo praznog stana u koji se vraćam ili likova koji su sa mnom samo radi seksa pa trče ženi ili za svojim poslom, likova koji me posjete vikendom i uz put. I najvažnije u meni je gledao osobu, bez osude ili onoga da uživa u onome što mu pružam u seksu ali me uz to i prezire radi toga, odnosno smatra manje vrijednom. Puno vas muškaraca želi ženu koja je spremna na sve u seksu ali kada dobiju takvu smatrate je kurvom radi toga. Najrađe bi ste jednu čednu ženicu za doma i jednu kurvu za ljubavnicu da vam pruži ugodne trenutke i odjebe nakon toga. Vi odnosno ti, to je bila prijetnja. Uvijek je dosta pričao o zajedničkim stvarima koje ste napravili i dosta o tebi. Puno toga je završavao sa "taj moj Đoni je doista lud, samo njemu takvo nešto može pasti na pamet". Pazi "taj moj Đoni" ili "moj flegmatični Strela". Đoni nisam željela riskirati, željela sam ga za sebe i nikoga više. U starom kraju Škotova mama je frkala nos i okretala glavu kada bih prošla pored nje. Iz očiju joj se vidjelo da prezire Gogu kurvu, čaknutu Gogu. Bilo me strah da je dovoljno samo jedno vaše mišljenje neki trač iz starog kraja i da potrči za vama, nazad doma ili nekuda dalje kamo ga tvoje lude ideje odvedu. Ništa osobno Đoni, dapače uvijek si mi bio u lijepom sjećanju ali nikada nisi bio muškarac kojeg bi poželjela imati. Ti si samo svoj, ne mislim egoist već luđak sa svojim idejama koje slijediš." Otpila je gutljaj iz čaše. Pogledao sam je zbunjeno. "Goga da li si voljela Škota?" Gledala je u čašu, nakon nekog vremena je progovorila. "Ako misliš da li sam osjećala leptiriće u trbuhu kada bi pomislila na njega ili da li sam vlažila ulazeći u stan radi pomisli da će me zagrliti poljubiti i baciti na krevet, odgovor je ne. Bilo mi je ugodno znati da me čeka doma. On je čovjek kakvog sam željela i bila sam mu dobra žena. Bio je to dobar život sa njim, bile su to dobre godine provedene zajedno. Jedino me mučilo njegovo mučenje samog sebe radi vas dvojice. Mislim nije stalno to spominjao ali ponekada u društvu bi neku od svojih priča završavao sa "ona moja dva luđaka i ja smo tu glupost napravili". Jednostavno nikada nije mogao prihvatiti da ste vas dvojica odbacili njega, a ja sam osjećala grickanje u trbuhu radi toga." Spustila je čašu na stol i pogledala me. Razmišljao sam da otvorim onu bočicu sa whiskey-jem, na neki način sam želio popiti ali mi se više nije ni pilo. "Goga da li si ti ikoga u svom životu voljela?" Nasmijala se. "O da Dejana. Njega sam stvarno voljela. Bila sam spremna biti njegova robinja i slijediti ga do kraja kamo god želi ali me taj gad izdao. Nije imao hrabrosti niti prdnuti, a kamo li se usprotiviti kada su došli po mene. Barem da je rekao "volim je pustite je". Čak niti to. Samo se složio sa svim gadostima koje je izrekao moj tata i dopustio da me odvedu. Škot, kako ga ti još uvijek zoveš, to nikada ne bi učinio. Zakucao bi vrata, uzeo bilo koje oružije u ruku borio se šakama ali ne bi dopustio da me tek tako odvedu." Osjetih neki umor. Polako sam se počeo mučiti ovim razgovorom ipak sam nakon svega što sam čuo želio znati odgovore do kraja. "Goga puno puta sam i sumnjao da te otac uopće silovao. Sa druge strane puno puta u razmišljanjima o svemu što se dogodilo našao sam razlog za tvoje ponašanje u tome što te otac silovao. Mislim osuđivao sam ga što te sjebao." Odmahnula je glavom. "Ne nije me on sjebao. Silovao me ali me nije sjebao. Na početku se navikneš na to što ti radi. Prihvatiš to. Kada su žešće proradili hormoni bilo je čak i dobro. Pogotovu kada skužiš kako iskoristiti njegove želje i preuzeti kontrolu u svoju korist. Samo je bio bolesno ljubomoran. Mlatio je i mamu i mene iz izmišljenih razloga ljubomore, da nije bilo toga možda bih čak i ostala. Puno puta sam spakirala stvari i mislila otići ali nisam imala hrabrosti. Gledala bih kroz prozor i ostala u sobi. Tada se pojavila Bosa. Bila je ljudski topla i ugodna. Ponudila je pomoć. Unatoč tome što sam sve pripremila par puta još nisam imala hrabrosti iskočiti kroz prozor. Gledala bih vani i molila boga za pomoć ili da budem dovoljno hrabra da iskočim. Tada si naišao ti. Bambi koji plače zato što su Bambiju u crtiću ubili mamu ili Đoni koji je sa dva prijatelja razbio šest psihopata koji su mučili mačku i mačića, o tome je pričao cijeli kraj. To za mačku sam čula više puta i kada sam te vidjela znala sam da mi je pružena šansa. Niste napustili mačku u nevolji, nećete ni mene. Nisam se prevarila." Iznenada se digla i otišla u sobu, vratila se sa velikim ženskim novčanikom u ruci. Sjela je i izvadila neki ključ od auta ili motora iz novčanika. Podigla ga je prema meni. "Ovo je ključ od Škotovog zadnjeg motora, onog koji je još uvijek u garaži Kawasaki VN 800. Redovito sam plaćala održavanje, da ga startaju, provozaju, registriraju. Uvijek sam mislila da ću ga prodati pred početak slijedeće sezone kada cijene budu više. Samo do sada nikada ga nisam mogla prodati. Sada mi je jasno zašto. Ne mogu ga prodati mogu ga samo pokloniti nekome za koga bi i Škotu bilo drago da ga poklonim." Polako je spustila ključ na stol između nas i gurnula ga prema meni. Dok sam gledao u ključ na stolu preturala je po novčaniku i izvadila dvije kartice. "Motor je u garaži, jedna vizitka je moja, a druga od mog odvjetnika. Jednostavno ga nazovi kada stigneš i on će odraditi sve sa papirima za motor." Promatrao sam ključ i vizitke na stolu. Polako odmahnuh glavom. "Goga ne navlači me. Znam da si manipulator i ne navlači me na led, neću se uhvatiti." Pogledala me hladno. "Đoni ne navlačim te, niti pokušavam manipulirati sa tobom. Učini mi uslugu i uzmi to, ne manipuliram sa tobom. Manipulator ne može lako manipulirati drugim manipulatorom, čak i kada je u pitanju nesvjesni manipulator." Pogledao sam je začuđeno. ZATVORITI KRUG Polako sam otvorio vrata i ušao. Pogledao sam po lokalu. "Kod Benny Hilla" je bio skoro prazan, nije bilo ni čudo za pet sati poslije podne. Za stolom u kutu su sjedile tri mlađe cure i pričale uz coca colu, povremeno bacajući pogled na tv gdje se vrtio novi video album Bronski Beat-sa. Marko je stajao za šankom i pisao nešto u neku knjigu. Polako sam prišao šanku i ubacio se na barsku stolicu. Pogledao me iznenađeno. "Đoni, kada si se vratio." Nasmiješih se. "Upravo sada sam sa ceste. Nije mi se išlo odmah doma pa sam navratio na jednu." Nasmiješio se. "Izgledaš tako, prljav sa mirisom benze na sebi." Položio je veliku čašicu za konjak ispred mene i natočio je. "Ovo je na račun kuće. Djeluješ umorno, koliko si bio na cesti?" "Tri dana. Noćas sam na nekoj benzinskoj prije Zagreba bacio par kartona pored motora i zavukao se u vreću. Oko tri sata dođu dva milkana, pregledaju me i potjeraju dalje. Navodno nema neprijavljenog spavanja. To što je brdo gast arbeiter-a spavalo po autima na parkingu bolio ih ku..$..c. Poslije mi se nije spavalo pa sam vozio do kraja." Odmahnuo je glavom. "Znam to. Dođu i uzmu isprave od prvog stopera ili motoriste koji spavaju, potjeraju nas, zapišu to u izvješće i odu negdje piti na račun kuće. Bitno je da su nekoga upozorili poslije mogu i spavati." Ispraznio sam čašu u dva gutljaja. Odmjerio me i natočio novu. Potom dohvatio još jednu čašu i napunio je sa lozom. Podigao je čašu prema meni. Nazdravih ali otpih samo mali gutljaj, Marko je svoju ispraznio do pola. Izvadio sam cigaretu i bacio kutiju prema njemu. Uhvatio je i pogledao. ""Gitanes" te sam kurio dok smo stopirali po francuskoj." Izvadio je cigaretu i zapalio je mojim ZIPPO-m. Povukao je dugi dim i nije se nakašljao. Dok je polako ispuštao dim cigarete pogledao me. "Kako je bilo? Djeluješ malo drukčiji." Klimnuh glavom. "Mislim da i jesam drukčiji, mislim da sam se malo promijenio." Nasmiješio se malo. "Putovanja mijenjaju ljude i ja sam dosta toga naučio na cesti." Otpio je iz čašice. Ja isto otpih mali gutljaj. "Marko što ima novog? Je se što zanimljivo dogodilo dok sam bio odsutan." Klimnuo je glavom. "Jedino što bi tebi bilo zanimljivo je da se Dok vratio iz zatvora, a Smrda iz bolnice." Odmahnuh glavom. "Od kuda ti to da mene to zanima, ne pačam se u priče Zemunskog podzemlja, znaš imam namjeru proživjeti malo dulje i bez problema." Nasmiješio se. "Polako doći ćemo do toga. Znači dvojica glavnih se vrate iznenada i mafija ponovno ima šefa i savjetnika. Normalno prvo što su uradili je da su išli zavesti reda na svom teritoriju. To je značilo tko god se od sitnijih ribica usudio zaći na teritorij morskih pasa sa namjerom preuzeti posao, najebao je. Tako su uhvatili šefa i još četvoricu od Acinih "Kajmana" na svom teritoriju i ubili boga u njima. Normalno da se cijela Acina ekipa raspala nakon toga. Nitko nije želio imati posla sa pravim mafijašima samo zato što se igrao "opasnih mafijaša". Tako je Aca Psina ostao sam samo sa onim malim debelim kojeg si ovdje upoznao." Ovo je zvučalo dobro. Pogledah ga povlačeći dim iz cigarete. "Što je sada sa Acom i kako znaš da me to zanima?" "Aca se negdje skriva. Računa na ono, kako je bio samo zamjenik glavnog u Kajmanima, da se Dok i Smrda neće baš puno baviti sa njim. Ako prođe neko vrijeme nevidljiv zaboravit će na njega kao problematičnog. Poslije može slobodno u javnost. Što se tiče kako znam da te zanima, Strela je bio ovdje dva puta od kada se vratio. Saznao sam cijelu priču kao i to da Strela prati gdje se Aca kreće i čeka tebe da se vratiš. Đoni mislim da vam to više nije bitno. Pustite budalu da nađe svoju sudbinu." Slegoh ramenima. "Vidjet ćemo što dalje, tko ti je dostavio ovu priču o tome da su najebali skoro svi iz Kajmana?" "Nakon one situacije ovdje Čerkez je držao jedno oko na Aci. Znaš ujedno da on prati i situaciju u podzemlju radi svog redarskog posla. Tako mi ispričao sve novosti." Klimnuh glavom gaseći cigaretu. Ovo je znači sigurno bila istina. Čerkez nikada nije bio neozbiljan i uvijek je bio dobro upućen što se događa na rubu i izvan zakona. Acini Kajmani više ne postoje, to je dobro zvučalo. Polako ugasih čik do kraja u pepeljari i ispih onu čašicu. Polako sam ustao sa stolice. "Marko što sam skrivio za ovo drugo piće?" Odmahnuo je rukom. "Ništa Đoni sve na račun kuće, možeš još jedno?" Odmahnuh glavom. "Hvala ti ali pao bih pod šank od trećeg, idem doma odmoriti se i malo složiti sve dojmove. Nasmiješio se i mahnuo rukom potom ponovo dohvatio onu knjigu. Sjetih se da se uvijek žalio na one iz "Uprave prihoda" koji su ga "derali porezima". U biti mislim da je samo mrzio voditi knjige. Parkirao sam u dvorištu pokupio torbe i ušao u kuću. Moji su pali u euforiju zadovoljstva. Vratio sam se u jednom komadu bez policijske pratnje. Odgovorio sam samo na par osnovnih pitanja ali sam saznao da je Škotova mama bila ovdje i optužila ih "da je njihov sin odvukao njezinog jedinca u njemačku te ga bacio u ruke kurvama koje su ga iskvarile i zadržale i to toliko da je raskinuo sa onom finom curom Ljiljom". Mama je donekle držala "žensku stranu" ali stari je samo šutio. Njemu je izgleda bilo bitno da smo svi živi i zdravi. Izvukoh se da sam umoran i zavukoh u svoju sobu. Malo kasnije kada je teritorij kuhinje postao slobodan skuhao sam si čaj od mente i vratio se u sobu. Uključio sam stari receiver i našao neku radio postaju sa rock i pop glazbom. Opuštajući se otpio sam gutljaj čaja i počeo prazniti džepove jakne. Dosta je vonjala po znoju od ova zadnja tri dana i imao sam namjeru da je prevrnem i pustim na propuhu. Posložio sam sadržaj bočnih džepova na stol. Cigarete, upaljač, nož skakavac i suzavac u spreju. Iz gornjeg lijevog džepa sam izvadio 120 njemačkih maraka i bacio ih na stol. To je bilo sve što mi je ostalo. Poslužit će privremeno dok se ne snađem za neku lovu. Posegoh u gornji desni džep i napipah kuvertu. Tu kuvertu vjerojatno sa pismom mi je dala Bosa u onoj hladnoći jutra, kada sam kretao na put. Položih kuvertu na stol promatrajući je. Bosa je rekla da je ne otvaram prije večeri ali sam bio u nekom čudnom raspoloženju. Vozio sam slijedeći bijelu crtu na auto cesti i trudeći se samo održati putnu brzinu negdje oko brojke 100. Nisam baš bio puno svjestan okolice koju sam prolazio. Vozio sam satima sa malim pauzama za cigaretu i tankanje benzina. Tek kada me umor počeo rušiti sa nogu našao sam skrovito mjesto iza skladišta neke benzinske. Umotao sam se u vreću za spavanje ali je bilo previše mračno da se čita. Odložio sam to do jutra i zaboravio na pismo. Prevrnuo sam jaknu naopako i objesio je pored otvorenog prozora. Sjeo sam za stol i zapalio cigaretu. Otpio sam još jedan gutljaj čaja. Iz zvučnika je dopirala glazba Dire Straits - Brothers in arms. Prisjetio sam se tog jutra. Stajali smo pored motora. Bosa mi je dala jedan dugi poljubac i pogladila me po kosi. Petra me samo dugo grlila potom odgurnula i nestala iza ulaznih vrata. Prethodne večeri su ponudile da ostanem. Nastojao sam pažljivo objasniti da me čeka obveza prema domovini u vidu odsluženja roka u JNA, tek nakon toga sam slobodan. Bosa je klimnula glavom ali Petra na neki čudni način to nije prihvaćala. Zakopčao sam jaknu do kraja,dohvatio kacigu i pogledao Bosu. "Ciao, vidimo se još." Dugo me gledala potom mahnula rukom spustila glavu i krenula prema ulaznim vratima. Navukao sam kacigu i zajahao motor. Okrenuh se prema ulaznim vratima. Bosa je jednom rukom držala vrata, a drugom mi mahala. "Sretno Đoni." Mahnuh joj. Sekundu kasnije je nestala iza vrata. Bilo mi je čudno da me oslovila sa Đoni, za nju sam uvijek bio Bambi. Startao sam i krenuo. Nisam niti pomišljao da je tada vidim zadnji put u životu. Sada sam polako gledao u kuvertu. Posegao sam za skakavcem i otvorio ga pritiskom na gumb uz ono klasično klik. Polako sam nožem otvorio kuvertu. Probudilo me sunce. Nevoljno sam otvorio oči i pogledao po sobi. Stvari i torbe su ležale po podu onako kako sam ih pustio sinoć. Jedva sam smogao snage da se istuširam i zavučem u krevet. Polako sam se izvukao ispod pokrivača i potražio japanke ispod kreveta. Spavao sam samo u gaćama. Dohvatih sa stolice kožne traperice i zaputih se u kupaonu. Uz put sam pogledao sat. Bilo je prošlo deset, znači spavao sam više od dvanaest sati. Osjećao sam se odmorno. Dok sam kuhao kavu uživao sam u samoći. Moji su bili na poslu, a to je značilo da me nitko neće gnjaviti sa dodatnim pitanjima i komentarima. Polako sam dosuo mlijeko u šalicu i zaputio se prema sobi pazeći da ne prospem sadržaj. Spustio sam šalicu na radni stol udobno se smjestio i zapalio cigaretu. Prvi gutljaj kave mi je pasao. Zamijetih kuvertu sa Bosinim pismom na stolu. Sinoć sam ga pročitao i pustio za jutro kada budem u boljem izdanju. Polako otvorih kovertu i izvadih papir. Valjda će mi sada biti jasnije. Željele smo da budeš daleko kada počneš čitati kako ne bi djelovalo da te molimo ili nagovaramo da ostaneš. Nisam spretna sa riječima već sa šivanjem ali pokušat ću da ti objasnim. Najjednostavnije rečeno za ovo vrijeme koje smo proveli zajedno postao si dio naše cjeline. Naš odnos se nije promijenio naša zajednica se nije promijenila samo si ti ušao u nju i stvorili smo svo troje neki drugi odnos. Bilo bi lijepo da tako ostane, samo ti sam moraš pronaći put, ako se nakon vojske odlučiš bilo bi dobro za sve da dođeš, da provedemo još neko vrijeme zajedno i odlučiš ostaješ li ili ne. Pročitao sam pismo dva puta. Polako sam ga zgužvao i bacio u košaru za smeće ispod stola. Nisam očekivao da će predlagati bilo što. Nitko nije ništa obećao ili indirektno dao do znanja. Barem ja nisam. Povukao sam dim iz cigarete i otpio još gutljaj kave. Zaključih da ipak dugujem curama. Nakon svih gluposti i pizdarija koje sam napravio brinule su se o meni i rješavale posljedice koliko se dalo riješiti. Stvarno su me primile u svoj život. Bilo što mogu odlučiti nakon vojske do tada je bilo puno vremena, tko živ tko mrtav. Ipak moram im se javiti tek toliko da sam stigao doma u komadu i razmijenim par ljubaznih riječi. Toliko im dugujem. Ugasio sam cigaretu i dohvatio telefon pored kreveta pazeći na žicu improvizirano spojenu na kraj telefonskog kabela. Okrenuo sam broj. Nitko se nije javljao. Vjerojatno cure nisu doma. Javit ću se kasnije poslije podne, sada imam druge poslove za obaviti. Polako počeh okretati Strelin broj telefona. Jovu sam zamijetio čim sam ušao u dvorište. Stajao je ispred svoje kućice odnosno bivšeg drvarnika i prao ruke u nekom starom lavoru na prastaroj žičanoj konstrukciji kakve su se koristile za lavore prije drugog svjetskog rata kada je tekuća voda bila luksuz koji nije dostupan svakome. Na sebi je imao rasparene plastične natikače, štofane hlače i potkošulju. Samo nešto nije bilo uobičajeno. Prostor ispred kuće je bio popločan različitim ostacima cigle, vjerojatno pokupljenim sa različitih gradilišta. Na tome je stajao neki stari popravljeni stol i dvije stolice. Po rubovima popločanog prostora bilo je postavljeno par većih limenki sa posađenim cvijećem. Drva pored kućice, koja je Jova skupljao po Dunavu tijekom ljeta za zimsko grijanje, bila su ispiljena i uredno posložena. Dohvatio je ručnik sa žičane konstrukcije i počeo brisati ruke, tada me zamijetio. Raširio je usne u osmjeh. "Đoni, Đoni znao sam ja da ćeš ti doći kada budeš tu." Nasmiješih se pružajući mu najlon vrećicu sa vinom i narančama. "Jovo čuo sam da si bolestan pa sam te došao obići." Dohvatio je vrećicu i zavirio u nju, usta su mu se razvukla u radostan dječji osmjeh. Okrenuo se od mene i prišao otvorenim vratima. "Cvjetiću, Cvjetiću dođi došao je Đoni da me obiđe i donio nam naranče i vino. Rekao sam ti da imam super prijatelje i da će doći." Mislio sam da se raduje narančama, radi cijene sigurno mu nisu bile često dostupne, međutim bio sam u krivu. Očigledno se radovao što nekome može pokazati da ima prijatelja koji ga obilazi. Cvjetić se pojavio na vratima. Bila je sigurno za glavu viša od Jove i desetak godina starija. Punija sa tankim nogama. Nosila je plastične natikače cicanu suknju do koljena i mušku potkošulju. Ispod potkošulje su se vidjele naramenice grudnjaka. Lice joj je bilo više muško sa rijetkim dlačicama brčića ispod nosa. Kritički me odmjeravala. Potom malo klimnula glavom. "Vi ste taj Đoni?" "Da gospođo, drago mi je." Usne su joj se razvukle u škrti smiješak. Vjerojatno joj je pasalo što sam je oslovio sa gospođo. "Ja sam Mileva. Sjedite može jedna rakija?" Klimnuo sam glavom i sjeo za stol. Uzela je vrećicu od Jove i nestala iza vrata. Jova se sretno smjestio na stolicu preko puta mene. Izgledao je neobično sretan što sam ga posjetio pred Cvjetićem. Pogledao sam ga upitno. Zbunjeno se nasmiješio. "Znaš Đoni sreo sam je u bolnici dok sam ležao, ona čisti tamo. Pomogao sam joj oko smeća i tako smo se upoznali. Njoj se moje pjesme sviđaju." Cvjetić se vratio sa bocom od piva i dvije čašice. Čašice su bile različite ali su bile čašice za rakiju. Natočila je i vratila bocu na stol. Pogledala me ozbiljno. "Jova smije popiti samo dvije čašice, nakon toga ga uhvati." Klimnuh joj glavom da sam shvatio poruku "ti popij ali on ne smije". Pogledala me ljubazno. "Ja spremam ribu. Jova je bio na Dunavu i donio dosta onih sitnih ribica. Ako hoćete mogu skuhati kavu." Odmahnuh glavom. "Hvala ali već sam popio." Cvjetić je nestao iza vrata. Nazdravio sam Jovi i otpio malo iz čašice. Bila je to neka šećeruša za progorijeti trbuh. Jova je zadovoljno otpio pola svoje. Nasmijao se. "Znaš ona se brine o meni. I voli kada joj čitam pjesme." Pogledao sam ga. "Jovo čujem da si imao problema sa Acom dok me nije bilo. Žao mi je što si radi mene upao u frku." Zbunjeno se nasmiješio i pipnuo po glavi. "Znaš Đoni nisi ti kriv. Ja sam kriv. Nisam vidio da je Aca ušao u "Ciganski raj". Znaš onda kada ste se htjeli tući ja sam javio tvojima za tebe, malo sam se strašio i stajao kod govornice ali odlučio sam da se vratim i vidim što još mogu. Kada sam došao, vi ste već bili otišli ali je Čerkez izbacio onog Acinog malog debelog nogom u guzicu sa vrata, Aca je izašao sav rasčupan i plav oko oka. To je bilo smiješno jako smiješno." Otpio je još gutljaj rakije. "Pričao sam taj smiješni događaj u "Ciganskom raju" i ušao je Aca, ja ga nisam vidio. Prišao je i udario me. Ma nije puno samo dva puta Đoni. Ništa strašno." Prekinuh ga. "Ništa strašno samo si završio u bolnici sa par šavova na glavi." Pipnuo se po glavi. "Samo tri Đoni i već su ih izvadili ali tamo sam je upoznao. Isplatilo se." Ispio sam ostatak iz čašice do kraja i nasuo Jovi novu čašicu. Dok je pio sitnim gutljajima ustao sam i potapšao ga po ramenu. "Jovo ne brini Aca je naš problem, više te neće smjeti dirati. Sada idem Jovo čeka me posao." Polako sam ustao i viknu "do viđenja" prema vratima. Cvjetić se nakratko pojavio i mahnuo mi rukom u drugoj je držala kuhaču, iz prostorije je dopirao ugodni miris pržene ribe. Jova je krenuo za mnom, da me isprati do vrata. Kada sam mu pružio ruku, zbunjeno je upitao. "Đoni priča se da vas je Škot napustio, da je ostao tamo sa nekom narkomankom i da si ti kriv za sve?" Zbunjeno sam ga pogledao. Stvarno je pokupio ulične tračeve. Ipak klimnuh glavom. "Je Jovo, Škot nas je napustio samo nije ostao sa narkomankom. Mislim da je to fina gospođa i da će mu biti dobro, znaš je Goga." Gledao me zbunjeno otvorenih usta. Kada je progovorio samo je treptao. "Ako nađeš nekoga koga ti voliš onda ti je dobro." Potapšah ga po ramenu i okrenuh se. Dok sam startao motor razmišljao sam o tome što je Strela pokupio od vijesti. Rekao je da me čeka kod Benny-ja. Kuća je bila niska stara i obrasla puzavicama. Pored kuće su bili garaža i dio visokog polu srušenog zida. Ulaz u garažu i zid su bili u obliku slova L. U produžetku kuće je počinjala ograda neke društvene firme koja se bavila otpadom, sudeći po mirisima, svih vrsta. Iza ograde dosta udaljena od nje, je bila zgrada skladišta. Svijetlo od kućice noćnog čuvara se samo naziralo. Od ulaza u kuću pa do kamionskog ulaza u dvorište skladišta, a koji je prekidao ogradu, nalazile su se naslagane gomile starih paleta. Okolica je bila pusta, predgrađe je ovdje počinjalo. Parkirali smo motore između dvije gomile najbliže ulazu u garažu pazeći da se ne vide sa ceste. Skinuli smo jednu paletu i sjeli na nju. Strela je olovnu šipku položio na paletu pored sebe. Tama noći nas je dobro prikrivala. Zapalio sam cigaretu i povukao dim prikrivajući žar cigarete u ruci. Strela je uspio smotati cigaretu i u tami. Pružih mu moj upaljač. Povukao je dim. Klimnuh glavom prema kući. "Znači to je to." Izgovorio sam ovo tiho. "Je Đoni, vlasnica ima negdje oko šezdeset godina i dobru boračku mirovinu. Aca je u nekoj vezi sa njom. Vjerojatno je "opslužuje" i za uzvrat dobije po nešto. Sada se on i onaj mali debeli skrivaju kod nje. Ona drži staru ladu u garaži, a on parkira pored zida u kutu, tako da nitko sa ceste ne vidi njegovog fiću. Uostalom tko i dolazi u ovu vukojebinu." "Siguran si da dolazi svaku večer?" "Ma daj ne da mi se ponavljati, razmisli, u frci je nema kamo ako ide doma svi znaju gdje stanuje i ako ga Dokovi ljudi traže, čekat će ga ispred kuće. Za ovo nitko ne zna, meni je rekao Ceca Ciganin, slučajno je skužio kada je vlasnici kuće prodavao neku robu." "Mislio sam da nas Ceca ne voli, čudno da ti rekao." Polako je ugasio cigaretu petom čizme. "Nas ne voli ali Acu mrzi. Mi smo mu samo povremeno konkurencija za šverc robu sa istoka. On ionako u većini slučajeva prodaje ukradenu tehničku robu i krpice, koje njegovi šaneri pokupe iz auta gast arbaeiter-a na cesti. E Aca je to znao i pokušao da mu lupi "porez" za rad na ovom teritoriju. Mislim da je bilo frke sa Kajmanima, stvarno ih mrzi…." "Rekao ti to tek tako?" "Ne baš tek tako malo sam ga pritisnuo da priča ali kada je skužio da mi to treba radi nekog poravnanja dugova sa Acom, pričao je i da ga ništa ne pitaš. Čak mi je rekao i da je Aca sav usran pokušao kupiti pištolj od par dilera "na crno". Samo nitko mu ništa nije želio prodati, zna se da je u frci sa Dokom pa se nitko ne želi zamjerati Doku, taj ne oprašta." Vrijeme je sporo prolazilo. Polako sam zapalio drugu cigaretu. Pogledao sam ka Streli. "Strela reci mi da li te Škot zvao i da li ste pričali?" Završio je motanje cigarete na slijepo i zapalio je. Žar je skrivao držeći cigaretu okrenutu prema dlanu ruke. "Zvao je Đoni, samo nisam želio pričati sa njim." "Zašto?" Kada je povukao dim žar cigarete mu je osvijetlio lice, djelovao je zamišljen. "Jednostavno kada je nazvao Ljilju da joj kaže da je sve gotovo bio je grozan. Prvo joj je rekao da je sve gotovo i to je to, kada je ona zaplakala i pitala zašto i već znaš pozivala se na njene osjećaje i vjeru u njega, popizdio je. Doslovce je izvređao najgorim rječima. Rekao joj je da je samo krava bez mašte, koja se zna samo naguziti i čekati da ga primi, pri tome samo misleći da se uda i oteli djecu. Rekao joj je i razne druge bljuvotine. Ljilja je danima plakala kod Mire. Mira mi je sve ispričala. Kada je nazvao jednostavno nisam znao što bih mu rekao i da li bih ga uopće pitao za to sa Ljiljom ili ne, a koji ku..$..c mu na sve što se izdogađalo i imam i reći. Odbio sam razgovor." Šutio sam par sekundi povlačeći dim cigarete. "Strela to nije Škot ….. ili je to možda Škot, a mi znamo drugog Škota." "Je Đoni to je Škot samo nikada do sada nije imao priliku da se pokaže. Uvijek je imao sve bez puno truda i muke, njegovi su dobro stojeći sa dobrim plaćama, uvijek je imao najbolji motor i najbolji kompjuter sada su mu mislili nabaviti i PC. Ali mislim da je to bio Škot kakvog su njegovi roditelji željeli, a sada će se otkriti pravi Škot. Možda je to isti Škot samo treba fazu transformacije ka slobodi, ne znam." Pogledao sam nebo. Zvijezde su hladno žmirkale na nas. Vrijeme je sporo prolazilo. Strela je rekao da se Aca uvijek pojavi između osam i jedanaest. Pogledah Strelu sa strane. "Nadam se da je obavijest da Aca nije mogao nabaviti pištolj točna. U protivnom ... " "Đoni do jučer prije podne nije sigurno. Bio sam kod Domagoja u gostioni oko podneva da provjerim Cecine priče, znaš da on također prati sve. Rekao mi je da je sat vremena prije mene bio Aca i pitao za "neku utoku na crno" ako koji od kamiondžija nudi. Normalno Domagoj mu je pokazao vrata. On se ne pača u to sa oružijem, a i ono za Doka se dosta pročulo." Crni fića je polako skrenuo sa ceste i zaustavio se pored zida kod garaže. Digao sam se jednim pokretom. Strela me slijedio, uz put je dohvatio olovnu cijev. Čekali smo da izađu i zaključaju auto. Kada su napravili par koraka dalje od auta krenuli smo prema njima. Kretali smo se brzo. Zastali su iznenađeni, već smo bili par metara od njih. Usporili smo. Strela je napola podigao onu olovnu cijev krećući se prema "malom debelom". Ja sam izvadio skakavac i pritisnuo gumb. Osjetih lagani trzaj kada je oštrica "sjela" na svoje mjesto. Aca se povukao jedan korak. Mali debeli je uočio slobodan prostor između Strele i zida i potrčao. Bio je brz za svoje kilograme. Strela ga nije niti pokušao zadržati, samo se okrenuo i pratio ga pogledom par sekundi kako bi se uvjerio da doista bježi. Strela se polako okrenuo prema Aci. Aca je odstupio par koraka kako bi vratima garaže zaštitio leđa. Čuli smo trčeće korake "malog debelog" kako nestaju u daljini. Pomislih da će sigurno potući rekord na 500 metara, a možda i više. Nije ni čudo, vjerojatno je danima živio u strahu od Dokovih ljudi, a sada nije niti shvatio tko mu se približava. Aca je izvukao ručno rađeni bodež i podigao ga ispred sebe. Takve bodeže su imali svi Kajmani. Aca ih je sam tokario i oštrio. Kod prijema u bandu novi član bi dobio Kajman Bodež. Pomislih kako je to bila jadna imitacija filmova. Stupio sam korak naprijed i drugom rukom iz džepa izvadio suzavac. "Aco nešto te napuštaju dečki, čim dođe do frke?" Držao je nož ispred sebe živčano gledajući čas u Strelu čas u mene. "Samo ste mi još vi luđaci falili. Odjebite od mene pametnije je." Strela je napravio jedan korak naprijed polako podižući cijev skoro do nivoa ramena. Napravio sam jedan korak i podigao ruku sa suzavcem da se jasno vidi, nož sam držao drugom, napola podignut ispred sebe. Stajali smo i gledali se. Oni trčeći koraci nisu se više čuli. Acina glava je malo brže radila pokrete lijevo desno od mene prema Streli bilo je očigledno da puca po živcima, a to se nije smjelo dogoditi. Pokušah da mi glas zvuči normalno. "Aco nismo ovdje da bi završili Dokov posao, imaš dovoljno problema i bez nas. Spusti nož, nemaš šansi." Stajali smo u tišini. Pri slaboj svjetlosti činilo mi se da Aca gornjim zubima grize donju usnu. Napokon je polako spustio ruku sa bodežom držeći je pored sebe. "Jebem te luda Đoni, što hoćeš ti sada, bilo pa prošlo." Glas mu je zvučao slabašno. Klimnuo sam glavom. "Aco želim ti se ispričati za sve loše što sam uradio prema tebi. Žao mi je. Stvarno mi je žao što se neke stvari nisu mogle riješiti drukčije". Zastao sam. "Samo Aco ako nam još jedan put pređeš cestu na neki loš način ili pipneš Jovu pjesnika, naći ćemo te i ubiti ću te." Čekao sam da mu riječi dođu do mozga. Skoro sam mogao čuti škripu dok je pokušavao shvatiti što je čuo. Ocijenih da je shvatio dovoljno od onoga što sam rekao. "Sada Aco baci nož, kako bi se mi mogli okrenuti i otići." Činilo se jako dugo, a onda se začuo zveket metala na asfaltu. Bodež je ležao pored Acinih nogu. Polako smo se okrenuli i krenuli ka gomilama paleta. Nakon što smo se malo udaljili viknuo je. Zastao sam ne okrećući se. "Đoni, prihvatit ću tvoju ponudu samo zato što si lud, a ja sa luđacima ne želim imati posla." Začuđeno sam se počeo okretati prema njemu. O kakvoj ponudi budala priča. Ništa što je rečeno nije zvučalo kao ponuda, onda shvatih. Jednostavno je morao nešto reći tek da njegova bude zadnja. To je radio iz tko zna kojih pobuda kompleksa ili trauma iz djetinjstva. Polako mu klimnuh glavom. "Dobro Aco, drago mi je da smo sve izgladili." Ljutito se nagnuo podigao bodež i krenuo prema vratima kuće, na pola puta je zastao i pogledao nas. "Stvarno ste ludi, ludi obojica, bolje ne pričati sa vama." Okrenuo se i u par sitnih brzih koraka nestao iza vrata. Pogledah Strelu i nasmiješih se. "Shvati to kao njegov način da nam kaže "ugodnu večer želim", samo to." Strela slegnu ramenima. "Nadam se da si u pravu i da je ovo najbolji način da to riješimo sa njim. Iako sumnjam da nam neće pokušati nešto vratiti." Krenuli smo ka motorima iza paleta. "Strela možda nam i hoće pokušati vratiti ali vjerojatnije je da neće više obraćati pažnju na nas, kao da ne postojimo. Da smo ga prebili žestoko, to bi ga privremeno smirilo ali bi podiglo stupanj mržnje prema nama u njemu, a on je nabijen mržnjom. Tada bi čekao da nas kad tad stigne, kao na ravnoj cesti bez kraja, mi smo prestigli večeras njega, a on bi dodao gas i pokušao stići nas. Tako bi moglo ići u beskrajno. Mislim da smo ga ovako jednostavno pustili da se vrti u svom krugu kao hrčak ali bez nas." Slegao je ramenima navlačeći kacigu. Onda se okrenu prema meni. "Đoni, često znaš puno srati ali uvijek imaš tu neku spretnost riječima da me uvjeriš da si u pravu, a sada idemo kod Benny-ja na cugu pa doma." Startali smo motore. Strela je motao drugu cigaretu za mene. Sjedili smo kod Benny-ja dok se prije podnevno sunce probijalo kroz prozorčić i bacalo reflektorski snop na dvije kave i jedan sok sa dvije čaše ispred nas. Lokal je bio popunjen samo sa pet curica iz obližnje škole, koje su najvjerojatnije "markirale" sat nastave pa uz colu gledale video. Počekao sam da mi Strela pruži cigaretu. Polako sam zapalio i otpio gutljaj kave. "Strela što si mi želio reći?" Zapalio je svoju cigaretu i povukao jedan dugi dim. Polako ga je ispuštao kroz nos i usta. "Đoni uvijek možeš računati na mene u bilo koje doba dana i noći ali sranje je sa Mirom." Odmahnuh glavom. "Kakvo sranje? Pa nisam je niti vidio da bih joj se zamjerio? Počeo si sa njom prije polaska, od kada sam se vratio nismo niti izašli zajedno sa njom da bih joj se mogao zamjeriti." Gledao me u tišini. Potom počeo polako. "Ženska sranja i solidarnost. Ljilja je još u šoku nakon svega. Mira je normalno kao prijateljica na njenoj strani. Kako je Škotova mama tebe optužila za sve, tako je to preuzela i Ljilja, a Mira od nje. Mislim da njih dvije više mrze tebe nego Škota. Teorija je da si ti nas dvojicu odvukao u njemačku, da to nisi uradio Škot bi još bio sa Ljiljom. hebiga, ženska pamet." Udario je dlanom po stolu. Šutio sam. Vrata kafića su se otvorila i ušao je Žiža poštar. Nosio je onu poštarsku torbu preko leđa i nekoliko pisama u ruci. Zaputio se prema šanku za kojim je stajao Marko. Nadao sam se da mu ne nosi dopise od Uprave prihoda, Marko je nakon toga bio loše volje. Očigledno nisu bili dopisi od uprave prihoda. Marko je uzeo kuverte i pokazao Žiži da sjedne, a to je značilo "jednu na račun kuće". Žiža se smjestio na stolicu i prihvatio pivu nešto pričajući Marku. Okrenuh se ka Streli. "Ne kužim tu njihovu logiku i slagalicu ali ok, ne moramo se viđati u kombinaciji sa Mirom." Strela je ugasio cigaretu. "Đoni daj mi samo desetak dana ili malo više, da je malo urazumim i sve je isto kao prije. Do tada navečer izlazimo svatko za sebe. Ostalo ostaje po starom ako nešto trebaš, tu sam." Klimnuh glavom. Žiža poštar je već popio pivu i krenuo prema vratima, od jednom je stao i pogledao me. "Đoni, odlično. Ne moram sada do tvoje kuće. Imam ovdje nešto preporučeno za tebe pa potpiši." Pružio mi je kuvertu, kemijsku i povratnicu da potpišem. Potom odvojio povratnicu i pružio kuvertu, pozdravio i izašao. Već bez otvaranja sam znao što je u njoj. Polako otvorih kuvertu i izvadih dopis. Polako sam položio dopis na stol ispred sebe i Strele. Pogledah ga. "Trebam se javiti u neku vojnu poštu u Tuzli za tjedan dana, a prije toga u vojni odsjek da podignem upute i naknadu za troškove puta. Mislim da nam ovo daje dovoljno vremena ne samo da Mira već i cijeli kraj zaboravi sve moje grijehe." Strela je polako pročitao dopis, potom mahnuo prema Marku. "Mark donesi nam dva dupla konjaka i pivo, Đoni ide u vojsku." Gledao sam Marka dok je donosio piće. Pomislih kako je sve i počelo ovdje uz konjak i pivo, tako se i završilo, za mene krug je zatvoren. STVARNOST PRIVIDA Gledao sam Gogu pomalo ciničnim pogledom koji je dopuzao negdje iz odbrambenih mehanizama moje podsvijesti. "Goga želiš reći da sam ja manipulator?" Nasmiješila se sa nekim tužnim izrazom. "Jesi Đoni, samo vjerojatno dobar dio života nisi toga svjestan." Zavrtio sam čašu na stolu. "Goga ako ti je lakše možeš i tako misliti." Gledala me šutke. Nakon nekog vremena je udahnula. "Đoni manipulator ne nameće svoju volju da drugi urade ono što on želi. Manipulator nametne da drugi žele uraditi ono što on želi. To si ti radio. Đoni ja nisam Škota dovukla u Hamburg. To si ti uradio. Jednostavno si svojom pričom i ponašanjem nametnuo i njemu i Streli da požele taj put proći sa tobom. Na kraju ste došli, tri dečka iz starog kraja u kojem sam odrasla, tri dečka iz predgrađa sa idejama i pojmovima časti predgrađa. Sa tim se niste mogli snaći tamo gdje ste dospjeli. Mene je to i strašilo. Mogli ste ga uvijek odvući na vaš pojam časti, života i onoga što je ispravno. Kasnije slušajući njegove priče zaključila sam da si glavni manipulator ekipe ti. Jednostavno bi im predstavio stvari koje si ti želio uraditi tako da su oni poželjeli to uraditi." Polako sam klimnuo glavom. "Može se to i tako gledati. Znači svi u ovoj priči smo bili manipulatori i žrtve izuzev možda Bose i Petre ali one i onako nisu bitan dio ove priče." Polako sam ustao sa stolice. "Goga ja nemam više pitanja. Čudno mi je samo da ti nemaš pitanja za mene, o mom životu." Sjedila je i polako i hladnokrvno otvarala bočice sa whiskey-jem. "Sjedi Đoni, nismo još završili i Bosa i Petra su bile manipulatori samo nisu računale da se igra sa manipulatorom nekada može negativno završiti. Tebe nisam ništa pitala zato što sam sve što me zanimalo o tebi doznala od Mirjane vlasnice restorana. Đoni sjedi i reći ću ti nešto što bi trebao znati, sigurno si to trebao znati." Pokazala je rukom na stolicu. U izrazu lica i pokretima je imala nešto što mi je govorilo da je iskrena. Polako sam se vrati na stolicu. Uzela je onaj ključ od motora i jednu karticu i gurnula to prema meni. "Uzmi Đoni poslije ti kažem nešto što si prije trebao doznati. Javit ću mom odvjetniku da preuzme motor i da ga da na pripremu za put, tu ti je ključ i njegova vizitka, učini mi to i uzmi taj motor. Mislim da se mi više nećemo vidjeti." Klimnuh glavom. "Sigurno se više svojom voljom nećemo vidjeti. Reci mi zašto je bitno da ja uzmem taj motor?" Udahnula je. "Đoni ovaj ključ nosim umjesto Škotove slike. Znaš ljudi nose slike osoba sa kojima su proveli ugodna razdoblja života ne iz ljubavi ili poštovanja prema tim ljudima, već zato što kada pogledaju tu sliku sjete se lijepih ugodnih trenutaka koje su proveli sa tom osobom. Za mene je ovaj ključ bio dio toga. Motor je bio bitan dio njegovog života kao i vas dvojica. Ja sam ga odvojila od jednog dijela onoga čemu je pripadao. Sada osjećam ako ovaj motor prepustim tebi da vraćam djelić njega na staro mjesto. Uzmi i doznati ćeš još nešto." Polako sam podigao ključ i vizitku. Ubacio sam sve u gornji džep jakne i uzeo čašu sa pićem. Otpio sam gutljaj i dohvatio još jednu njenu cigaretu, pružila mi je upaljač. Kada sam povukao dim pogledah je upitno. "Što sam još davno trebao znati?" Gledala me je hladnim pogledom. "Đoni i Petra i Bosa su imale svoje ideje. Nisi ti tako neodoljiv da bi se jedan lezbijski par zaljubio u tebe. Da, Bosa je imala sklonosti ka tebi još iz starog kraja ali priča je malo drugačija od onoga što ti misliš." Prekinuh je. "Misliš reći da je ona moja veza sa njima bila privid?" Nasmiješila se. "Na početku da ali poslije su se same uhvatile na svoje ljepilo. Ujedno Đoni, zlatni dobri Đoni, otišao si nakon što si živio sa njima i nisi se niti javio telefonom da ih čuješ ili pitaš kako su." Osjetih grč u želucu. "Zvao sam, mislim jedan dva puta nisam ih dobio i pokupili su me u JNA. Pa, pisao sam im i razmijenili smo pisma dok sam bio u JNA. Ne znam par pisama." Lagano je otpila iz čaše. "I kako je išlo dalje?" "Ne sjećam se točno, bilo je negdje pred kraj vojske primio sam pismo od Petre da je Bosa poginula u prometnoj. Nisam imao nikakve šanse dobiti odsustvo za sahranu nekoga tko mi nije čak niti rod, a u inozemstvu je. Pa i pasoš su mi oduzeli prije JNA, to je tada bila standardna procedura. Uglavnom napisao sam joj da ne mogu doći ali čim budem mogao doći ću da joj zajedno odemo na grob." Klimnula je glavom. "Da, kada joj se pokvario auto na cesti krenula je postaviti trokut iza auta, sve po zakonu, tada je pokupio i nju i auto pijani Bugarski vozač hladnjače. Tragedija. Bilo mi je jako teško radi Bose. Bila je dobra prema meni. A ti Đoni kada si joj konačno otišao na grob?" Grč u želucu se polako pojačavao. "Pet godina kasnije sam bio poslovno u Hamburgu. Nazvao sam Petru. Ispričala mi je da se, nakon Bosine smrti, udala za nekog Jurgena i da ima dijete ali da će me odvesti na groblje. Vidjeli smo se, došla je sa curicom i otišli smo zajedno na Bosin grob. Zapalio sam svijeću i pomolio se. Otišli smo nakon toga svi zajedno u restoran u blizini i popili piće. Činilo se da je Petra sretna, a mala je bila lijepo napredno dijete oko tri godine." Smiješak na Goginom licu se malo pojačao. "Đoni ti nemaš djece kao ni ja, kako sam saznala." Klimnuh glavom. "Ni meni to nije išlo." Gledala me i vrtila čašu u rukama. "Đoni curica nije bila napredna za "oko tri godine" već normalno dijete za malo više od četiri godine." Osjetio sam slabost u rukama. Gledao sam je oštro. Smiješeći se vrtila je čašu među prstima. Osjećao sam da mi je glas hladan. "Goga što misliš reći. Ne zajebavaj se sa tim. Reci što si mislila reći!" Smiješila se gledajući me u oči. "Znaš, jesi li koristio kontracepciju sa Bosom i Petrom?" Zbunjeno sam odmahnuo glavom. "Ne mislio sam da one vode računa." Smijala se. "O pametni bez grješni Đoni je pretpostavio da lezbijke koriste kontracepciju. Čim ugledaju jedna drugu vrisnu "neću bez kontracepcije napravit ćeš mi bebača". Budalo." Smijala se iskreno. Meni nije bilo do smijeha. Polako je otpila još jedan gutljaj iz čaše. "Đoni, Petra je rodila devet mjeseci od tvog posjeta. Bile su presretne. Možda im je samo malo smetalo što se ne javljaš. Željele su to dijete, samo su se malo zaljepile pa su željele i da se vratiš. U biti dobro si im poslužio, bile su u vezi i dobile su dijete. Nesreća sa Bosom se dogodila mjesec i pol nakon rođenja. Petra je naljetela na tog Jurgena u novoj kompaniji gdje se zaposlila kao programer. Jurgen (Jirgen) je bio peder, peško, pederčina od četrdeset i pet godina ali je želio promaknuće na mjesto menadžera, a to nije išlo ako je pederčina. Brzo su sklopili dogovor. Vjenčali su se, Jurgen je priznao dijete i bio je čovjek po standardima. Dobio je promaknuće. Kada si bio u posjetu Bosinom grobu devedesete, bili su već deset mjeseci razvedeni." Smijala se iskreno se smijala. Osjećao sam slabost. "I gdje je sada Petra?" "U istom stanu gdje si je i ostavio, samo je "napredna mala" već malo odrasla i otišla svojim putem." Mutilo mi se u glavi. "Goga ne lupetaj, kako to sve znaš? Što si, vidovita? Nisu te voljele i niste bile u kontaktu, pa ne možeš to znati." Pogledala me nadmoćno. "Preko Suzi šećeru, od kada je Škot otišao bila sam više puta sa Suzi. Nikada me ona niti njene frendice nisu zanimale za vezu ili zajednički život ali za zabavu su dobre, doista dobre. Đoni Mirjana kaže da nemaš djece, šećeru imaš već dvadeset i kusur godina, samo ne znaš." Smijala se dok je zatvarala vrata iza mene. Smijala se iskreno. Polako sam hodao ka parkingu. Zaustavio sam se pored kioska i kupio cigarete. Dovukao sam se do crkve. Sjeo sam na jedan kamen u uređenom crkvenom dvorištu i zapalio cigaretu. Trebalo mi je par minuta da registriram glazbu i pjevanje koji su dopirali iza crkvenih vrata. Sjetih se da su u tijeku "Dani katoličke mladeži". Poslušao sam pažljivije. Iza vrata se sada jasno čuo "Glori aleluja" refren "za život nam snage daj" nakon toga glori aleluja. Polako sam počeo njihati glavom u ritmu pjesme. Ugasio sam cigaretu petom čizme. Posegnuo sam u gornji džep jakne i izvadio ključ i vizitku, malo sam ih gledao i vratio u džep. Posegnuo sam za mobitelom. Lidija je ionako bila na godišnjem od idućeg tjedna, a ja ću ostatak svog bez problema problema dobiti telefonski. Pjesma iza crkvenih vrata je utihnula. Lidija se javila nakon trećeg signala. "Halo dolaziš konačno na ručak?" Počekao sam par sekundi. "Ne, uzmi kacigu i jaknu dolazim po tebe i idemo na put." "Đoni ponovo si se napasao ludih gljiva. Kada, gdje i zašto?" "Sada, u Hamburg, da pokupimo jedan motor i da porazgovaram sa jednom ženom, a uz put ću ti ispričati priču, možda ti se priča svidi, možda ne ali to je drugo zašto." "Nismo spakirali opremu za put." "Kupit ćemo uz put što nam treba, samo isključi sve i čekaj me na cesti." Prekinuo sam vezu. Dok sam kretao prema motoru iza crkvenih vrata je počela nova pjesma "Braćo moja radujmo se Bog je tu". KRAJ KAKO SAM OBEĆAO BORISU NA DRUŽENJU U GOSPIĆU PRIČA POSTANA DO KRAJA :D ‚e vala svaka čast tebi a posebno Borisu, jer da ne bi njega čekao bi se ovaj kraj još dugo, dugo, dug du d... :h :h :h :h :h odlično Đoni baš mi je leglo :aplauz: čim se pojavi u štampanom izdanju poručujem primjerak za sebe da pročitam sve odjednom sa uživanjem. nastavi maestro u ovom pravcu, stil ne mijenjaj, a motor bi mogao.... npr versys :evil: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: ‚e vala svaka čast tebi a posebno Borisu, jer da ne bi njega čekao bi se ovaj kraj još dugo, dugo, dug du d... :h :h :h :h :h odlično Đoni baš mi je leglo :aplauz: čim se pojavi u štampanom izdanju poručujem primjerak za sebe da pročitam sve odjednom sa uživanjem. nastavi maestro u ovom pravcu, stil ne mijenjaj, a motor bi mogao.... npr versys :evil: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: :occasion: Hvala Gastro. Znaš volio bih čuti i koju kritiku od srca, to pomaže da se čovjek poboljša u onome što radi. Prije cca 1,5 god. je već postana cijela priča na motori.hr, a Boris je rekao da ne ide tamo iz nekih principijelnih razloga ali da bi volio pročitati cijelu priču, pa nakon dobrog druženja cuge i janjocida (umalo pa ratni zloćin protiv janjaca) eto. Boris mi je kao i vi ostali ostavio super dojam pa .. želim zahvaliti i Panti na dobrom dočeku i gostoprimstvu. Tiskanog izdanja neće biti, već prije više od cca 2 godine javio se jedan agent za tisak (kada je prvi dio bio na motori.hr) i ponudio tisak ali uz uvijete "pišeš po rokovima, imamo pravo zahtijevati izmjenu sadržaja/kraja priče i slično" odhebal sam to. Pišem iz zabave (zato ide sporo) i pišem što želim, bez što naruče. Slobodan sam od parazita. Boris mislim još nije skužio da je po njegovoj želji :D Sto reci... sigurno da nijesam validan za ozbiljnu literarnu kritiku, jednostavno sam kao prosjecni citalac odusevljen i to ne krijem, volio bih jos puno stiva na ovu temu :thumbleft: Ocigledno da ni ja nijesam redovan na hr motori kao ovdje :D Zao mi je da nece biti na papiru, ali razumijem razloge i podrzavam. ps da si upoznao Borisa, mene i Tifijevo vino u petak, ostavili bi jos bolji utisak :angel: :D ps da si upoznao Borisa, mene i Tifijevo vino u petak, ostavili bi jos bolji utisak :angel: :D Pa zakasnio sam na prave događaje :D ali i u subotu je bilo super i opušteno, idealne teme za smiriti živce nakon sj .. ebanog radnog tjedna, motori druženje putovanja. Upozorio sam Borisa da ću malo više pričati na te teme ako da povoda budući da mi cijeli tjedan bio sj..eban na poslu paa se našli :D. Žao mi što nisam kušao Tifijevo vino ali ima godina :D Evo , konačno uspio pročitat priču.....(radi boljeg doživljaja od početka ) što reči ????? lijepo ! nije to neki vrhunski literarni uradak , ali je jedna lijepo i tečno ispričana priča o mladosti mnogih od nas.....mene osobno podsjetila na neke slične događaje iz mojih mladih dana ....i dala mi povoda da malo razmislim o tim vremenima....a to i je bit svake dobre priče , da ostavi traga na čitatelja ! nastavi dalje pisati ,čitatelja buš sigurno imal ! A što se tiče petka .....bilo je tekuči zajebano....kaj misliš zašto sam u subotu pil mineralnu ????? drugi put buš nam pomogel , nadam se ....a do tada želim svima puno ugodnih kilometri !