Krakatit/Chapter 5
CHAPTER V
It seemed to him that he was walking about in an enormous kitchen garden. All around was nothing but cabbage heads, not simply heads, but heads which grinned and were slimy from the creatures which had crawled over them; gibbering heads, blear-eyed, monstrous, watery, pimpled and swollen. They were growing on cabbage stumps, and creeping over them were repulsive green caterpillars. And now across the garden there ran towards him the girl with the veil over her face. She raised her skirts a little and jumped over the heads. But under each of them there suddenly sprouted bare, horribly thin and hairy hands, which clutched at her feet and her skirts. The girl screamed in fear, and raised her skirts still higher, above her strong knees, showing her white legs, and tried to spring out of the way of these grasping tentacles. Prokop closed his eyes; he could not bear the sight of her white strong legs and was nearly mad with dread lest those green heads should defile her. He cast himself on the ground and chopped off the first head with his clasp-knife. It squeaked like an animal and snapped at his hand with its rotten teeth. Now the second and the third head. Christ! would he be able to mow the enormous field before the girl reached the other end? Springing madly about, he trampled them down and kicked them; his feet become entangled in their thin sucker-like claws, he fell, was seized, torn and suffocated. Then everything disappeared.
Everything disappeared in whirling confusion. And suddenly he heard quite near the veiled voice: “I have brought you the parcel.” He sprang up and opened his eyes, and before him stood the girl from Hybsmonka, squint-eyed and pregnant, her stomach damp, and gave him something wrapped up ina damp rag. “It’s not her!” groaned Prokop painfully, and suddenly he saw before him the tall, dreary saleswoman who used to stretch his gloves for him on wooden sticks. “It’s not her!” Prokop repeated, and there appeared before him a puffy child on legs bent with rickets who . . . who shamelessly offered herself to him! “Go away,” cried Prokop, and then he saw an overturned can in the middle of a dried-up lawn and some cabbages covered all over with the traces of snails, and this picture would not disappear in spite of all his efforts to banish it.
At that moment the bell rang quietly, with a noise like the piping of a bird. Prokop dashed to the door and opened it. In the passage was standing the girl with the veil, pressing the parcel to her breast and panting for breath. “So it’s you,” said Prokop gently and, without knowing why, was profoundly touched. The girl came in, brushing him with her shoulder as she went past. Her scent moved Prokop painfully.
She remained standing in the middle of the room. “Don’t be angry, please,” she said quietly and somehow hastily, “that I have given you such a commission. You see you have no idea why . . . why I—if it’s really causing you any trouble”
“I will go,” said Prokop in a hoarse voice.
The girl turned her clear serious eyes on him. “Don’t think anything bad of me. I am only afraid that Mr. . . . that your friend may do something which would drive a certain person to death. I have so much confidence in you. . . . You will save him, won’t you?”
“I shall be ever so glad to,” said Prokop softly in an uncertain voice which was not his own; to such an extent was he overcome with excitement. “I . . . what you wish. . . .” He turned his eyes away; he was afraid that he would blurt something out, that perhaps she would hear the loud beating of his heart. He was ashamed of his uncouthness.
And the girl also was infected by his confusion; she blushed terribly and did not know what to do with her eyes. “Thank you, thank you,” she tried to say in a voice which was also somehow uncertain, and she gripped the sealed packet which she held in her hand. There was a silence, a silence which induced in Prokop a sweet and painful dizziness. He felt feverishly that the girl was watching his face askance; and when he suddenly turned his eyes on her he saw that she was looking down on the ground, waiting till she was able to endure his look. Prokop felt that there was something which he ought to say to save the situation; instead he only moved his lips uneasily and trembled with his whole body.
Finally the girl touched his hand and whispered, “That parce” Then Prokop forgot why he was holding his right hand behind his back and reached out for the large parcel. The girl turned pale and recoiled. “You are wounded,” she burst out. “Show me!” Prokop hastily hid his hand again. “It’s nothing,” he assured her quickly; “I just got a slight . . . slight wound.”
The girl, quite pale, drew in her breath sharply as if she herself felt the pain. “Why don’t you go to a doctor?” she said abruptly. “You mustn’t travel anywhere! I . . . I will send somebody else!”
“It’s healing already,” said Prokop, as if something precious were being taken away from him. “Really it’s almost . . . right again, only a scratch, and anyway what nonsense! Why shouldn’t I go? And then, in such matters . . . you can’t very well send a stranger. Really it doesn’t even pain me,—look!” And he shook his right hand.
The girl made a movement of sympathy which was yet severe. “You mustn’t go! Why didn’t you tell me? I. . . . don’t allow it! I don’t want”
Prokop became extremely unhappy. “Look here,” he said hotly, “it really is nothing; I am used to such things. Look here,” and he showed her his left hand, almost the whole of the little finger of which was missing, while another had a twisted scar on the joint. “That’s the sort of occupation I have, you see?” He did not even notice that the girl shrank away from him with pale lips and was looking at a deep scar on his forehead stretching from the eyes to the hair. “There’s an explosion and there you are. Like a soldier, I get up and run off as fast as I can, you understand? Nothing can happen to me now. Give it to me!” He took the parcel out of her hand, threw it into the air and caught it again. “No need for anxiety. I’ll go like a gentleman. Do you know, it’s a long time since I have been anywhere. Do you know America?”
The girl remained silent and watched him with a pained expression.
“It’s all very well for them to say that they have new theories,” muttered Prokop feverishly through his teeth, “but wait; I’ll show them something when I have finished my calculations. It’s a pity that you don’t understand that sort of thing; I could explain it to you. I trust you, I trust you but not him. Don’t trust him,” he said earnestly, “take care. You are so beautiful,” he breathed enthusiastically.
“Up there I never speak to anybody. Only a sort of hut made of planks, you understand? Hal! ha! How frightened you were of those heads! But I won’t give you up! Don’t be frightened of anything! I won’t give you up.”
She looked at him with eyes distended with horror. “But you simply must not go!”
Prokop grew dispirited and became suddenly weak. “No, you mustn’t take any notice of what I’m saying. I’ve been talking nonsense, haven’t I? I simply wanted you not to think about that hand. So that you shouldn’t be frightened. It’s all over now.” He got control of himself again and became stiff and almost sulky through his very concentration. “I shall go to Tynice and find Thomas. I shall give him the parcel and say that it comes from a young lady whom he knows. Is that right?”
“Yes,” said the girl with some hesitation, “but really you must not
Prokop tried to muster a supplicatory smile. His heavy scared face suddenly grew beautiful. “Leave it to me,” he said quietly, “it’s . . . for you.”
The girl blinked her eyes; a sharp feeling had suddenly driven her nearly to tears. She inclined her head silently and gave him her hand. He raised his shapeless left hand. She looked at him interrogatively and pressed it warmly. “Thank you so much,” she said quickly, “good-bye!”
In the doorway she stopped as if she wished to say something. Twisting the handle, she waited.
“Am I to . . . to convey any greeting to him?” asked Prokop with a wry smile.
“No,” she said quietly and gave him a quick glance. “Au revoir.”
The door closer behind her. Prokop looked after her and suddenly he felt mortally heavy and weak, his head began to swim, and it cost him an immense effort to take a single step.