The voice on the phone had moved him so unexpectedly and profoundly that he had nearly hung up. He couldn’t remember what they said to each other, just as later he couldn’t recall anything specific from conversations with Maria. But he could remember situations in which her presence or her voice obliterated everything else.
It was impossible to say “no” to this voice, which was now calling to him from the receiver. Why him, and not someone else, he never understood. Here I am, Lord.
He proposed to her almost immediately, not knowing what he was doing. He knew only that he could not have done otherwise. She nodded, as if she had foreseen long ago that this was bound to happen.
Time seemed to be out of joint. The days were shamelessly short, the nights blended into one. Something was ripening in Philip; he could feel it in nervous spasms, but ignored it. He was spinning with Maria in a whirlwind. He had turned into a boomerang, always meekly landing at her feet, no matter what he thought, no matter what he did, and no matter who he saw.
Before meeting Maria, he had been simply Philip, a doctor, a pathologist. He had been able to describe himself in a word.
After meeting Maria, his center of gravity was transposed out of his body, and in the beginning this gave him strength. Strength that Maria absorbed.
9.
The Hero’s Prize
There was no wedding. They merely signed a marriage certificate. She never allowed him to see her passport. The civil servant was allowed to see it, but not her husband. He had no idea when she was born, or who her parents were, or whether she had any siblings. Whenever he asked her about these things, she laughed, as if his questions were the most inappropriate thing in the world. He was surprised to discover how easy it was to lie to his friends or family when they asked the same questions. And he deluded himself that one day he would surely find out, as soon as Maria stopped playing this funny game. Then he forgot about it and remembered it again only when it was too late.
She did not simply give herself to him—she laid herself out like a gift, like an offering. He sank into her with the feeling that he had never experienced anything like this before. All thoughts and questions vanished. Maria became a world he inhabited. He knew he must have done things, at least he must have eaten food and drunk water. Later, when the doctor asked him, he could not remember anything, only that he had felt tireless and strong.
She stayed at home knitting sweaters. There was always a cooked meal to eat. Maria always had money and the food was always tasty. So tasty that, after dinner, his only wish was to take her in his arms and bury his face in her long hair.
She became pregnant almost by magic. Philip was certain it had happened the very first time. If happiness meant being able to stop thinking, Philip was happy. Things just happened and he was part of the process.
The twins were born. A boy, Valentin, and a girl, Margarita. Philip didn’t recall ever discussing what names to choose. It seemed like they were born with their names.
10.
After the Fairy Tale’s End
Then he became frightened of Maria.
One night, he woke up and looked at his sleeping wife. He watched her for a long time. He was certain that she was not asleep. She lay perfectly still, as if absent from her body.
For the first time he wondered whether a human being had a beginning and an end. He looked at her. Maria was sleeping naked, covered by her hair as if with a blanket. Her breath was barely perceptible. No adjectives could describe her for him. He couldn’t say that she was kind, for example, or anything like that. This creature had simply appeared and in the face of this fact Philip was powerless. He was overcome with despair. What were his, or her feelings? Only the dispersing of stardust.
Suddenly, he realized that Maria was staring at him. Perhaps everyone who has just risen from sleep had this look in their eyes. Maria’s look was evil. At last, something definite. Philip had come to know something and now he could see she did not like it. Her eyes stared unblinkingly, as if she had no eyelids.
He got up from the bed and left the room.
After this first onrush of fear, Philip tried to talk to his brother. His brother told him that Maria was breaking all accepted codes of behavior.
At first he did not understand what this meant. Gradually, it dawned on him that his brother was accusing him of being disloyal. Toward himself, toward his family, and his friends. The sound of these trivial words, which he hadn’t heard pronounced for a while, unsettled him.
That same night, Maria refused to sleep with him, and he knew her refusal was going to last.
Philip tried to lose himself in his work. From then on, he often slept at the hospital, he worked night shifts, and became better at his job. He was called in more often for criminal cases. He discovered courtrooms.
But he also started drinking. And drinking brought back his ability to speak.
11.
The Twins
Valentin’s anger toward his sister was boundless. She was the same as him and she was different. He felt ashamed to have a sister. He invented and did all kinds of things, and she just sat there, dull, watching him. He did not want this lump, so similar to him, to sit there and watch him. He did not want to have a sister.
When they began school, his mother was no longer there to take his sister in her arms whenever she started weeping. It quickly became clear that Margarita could not stay in the same school. This solved the problem, and after rejecting the idea for a year, his mother agreed to send her to another school, for children like her. Although no one knew exactly what his sister was like. Except perhaps his mother, but she never said anything.
Margarita thus disappeared from Valentin’s life. At least for a while. She reappeared during weekends, but he had other things to do, he had friends, and his mother would simply take her out somewhere.
He could remember how his father once became very angry about Maria and Margarita’s going out. He had insisted on joining them, he had insisted on being told what they intended to do together. Maria had ignored his shouting. When the two women were ready to leave, his mother whispered something in his sister’s ear, and Margarita remained by the door to wait. His mother then went into the bedroom with his father.
After that everything quieted down, as if someone had enclosed the world in a box. The two children fixed the bedroom door with their eyes. Valentin looked at Margarita. A peculiar thought crossed his mind, but by then his mother had reappeared. Without a word, she grabbed Margarita’s hand and they went out.
Valentin waited for a while, then gently opened the bedroom door. His father was snoring happily in his bed.
When they brought the piano to the house, his mother said it was for Margarita. Valentin could not believe it—such a big and important object meant for this miserable, annoying little thing that was his sister.
In the beginning, Maria herself taught Margarita how to play. Valentin discovered that his mother could play the piano. He felt extremely proud and wanted to learn to play too. But she would not have it, the piano was for Margarita.
He remembered that later a blond woman would come to the house and play the piano with Margarita.
Then Margarita started playing the piano by herself and Valentin lost interest in the whole affair. One day, after many years, when they were about fifteen years old, a friend of his happened to hear Margarita play and said he wanted to see her. They tiptoed into the dusky living room and listened to her unnoticed for a long time. When she stopped, she saw them and ran away into her room.
His friend, however, who was the son of musicians, could not leave it alone. He wanted