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| OPRLJENI OGNJEM | Touched with Fire |
| Dugo su stajali u plamenom suncu i gledali u vedra lica svojih staromodnih željezničarskih satova, dok su se iza njih kosile sjene, i njihale se, a ispod poroznih im se ljetnih šešira slijevao znoj. A kad su ogoljeli glave, da obrišu naborana i narančasta čela, kosa im je bila sijeda i promočena, poput nečega što već godinama nije vidjelo svjetla. Jedan je od njih prokomentirao da mu cipele na nogama izgledaju kao dva ispečena hljeba i tad je, vruće uzdahnuvši, dodao: | They stood in the blazing sunlight for a long while, looking at the bright faces of their old-fashioned railroad watches, while the shadows tilted beneath them, swaying, and the perspiration ran out under their porous summer hats. When they uncovered their heads to mop their lined and pinkened brows, their hair was white and soaked through, like something that had been out of the light for years. One of the men commented that his shoes felt like two loaves of baked bread and then, sighing warmly, added: |
| "Jesi siguran da je to ta zgrada?" | "Are you positive this is the right tenement?" |
| Drugi starac, koji se zvao Foxe, potvrdno je kimnuo glavom, ali tako kao da bi ga svaki brzi pokret mogao zapaliti već i samim trenjem. "Ja tu ženu viđam svakodnevno već tri dana. Pojavit će se. To jest, ako je još živa. Čekaj samo daje vidiš, Shaw. Bože! Kakav slučaj." | The second old man, Foxe by name, nodded, as if any quick motion might make him catch fire by friction alone. "I saw this woman every day for three days. She'll show up. If she's still alive, that is. Wait till you see her, Shaw. Lord! what a case." |
| "Kakva čudna zadaća", rekao je Shaw. "Kad bi ljudi znali, mislili bi da smo voajeri, slinave stare lude. Bože, kako se, dok ovdje stojim, osjećam samouvjerenim." | "Such an odd business," said Shaw. "If people knew they'd think us Peeping Toms, doddering old fools. Lord, I feel self-conscious standing here." |
| Foxe se naslonio na štap. "Svu priču prepusti meni, ukoliko se uopće... čekaj! Evo je!" Snizio je glas. "Kad iziđe, pogledaj je, ali polako." | Foxe leaned on his cane. "Let me do all the talking if--hold on! There she is!" He lowered his voice. "Take a slow look as she comes out." |
| Ulazna su se vrata stambene zgrade opako zalupila. Na vrhu trinaest stuba verande stajala je zdepasta žena i gledala sad amo sad tamo, ljutito trzajući očima. Zabila je punačku ruku u torbicu pa dohvatila nekoliko zgužvanih dolara, brutalno srnula niza stube i krenula u juriš niz ulicu. Iza nje je kroz prozore stanova na katovima provirilo nekoliko glava, dozvanih treskanjem vrata. | The tenement front door slammed viciously. A dumpy woman stood at the top of the thirteen porch steps glancing this way and that with angry jerkings of her eyes. Jamming a plump hand in her purse, she seized some crumpled dollar bills, plunged down the steps brutally, and set off down the street in a charge. Behind her, several heads peered from apartment windows above, summoned by her crashing of the door. |
| "Idemo", prošaptao je Foxe. "Sad idemo mesaru." | "Come on," whispered Foxe. "Here we go to the butcher's." |
| Žena je silovitim zamahom otvorila vrata mesnice, pa uletjela unutra. Dva su starca spustila pogled na usta ljepljiva od svježe šminke. Nad priškiljenim, vječno sumnjičavim očima, dizale su se obrve nalik na brkove. Našavši se kraj mesnice, začuli su njen glas koji je već vrištao unutra. | The woman flung open a butchershop door, rushed in. The two old men had a glimpse of a mouth sticky with raw lipstick. Her eyebrows were like mustaches over her squinting, always suspicious eyes. Abreast of the butchershop, they heard her voice already screaming inside. |
| "Hoću lijep komad mesa. Da vidim što ste to sakrili, da odnesete kući!" | "I want a good cut of meat. Let's see what you got hidden to take home for yourself!" |
| Mesar je stajao nijemo, u pregači s krvavim tragovima prstiju, i praznih ruku. Dva su starca ušla za ženom i sad su se pretvarali da razgledavaju ružičasti hljebac svježe samljevena goveđeg bubrežnjaka. | The butcher stood silently in his bloody-fingerprinted frock, his hands empty. The two old men entered behind the woman and pretended to admire a pink loaf of fresh-ground sirloin. |
| "Ti janjeći odresci izgledaju mi bolesno!" kriknula je žena. "A' pošto vam je mozak?" | "Them lambchops look sickly!" cried the woman. "What's the price on brains?" |
| Mesar joj je to rekao tihim, suhim glasom. | The butcher told her in a low dry voice. |
| "Dobro, odvažite mi funtu jetrica!" rekla je žena. "I prste k sebi!" | "Well, weigh me a pound of liver!" said the woman. "Keep your thumbs off!" |
| Mesar ju je i odvagao, vrlo polako. | The butcher weighed it out, slowly. |
| "Brže!" dreknula je žena. | "Hurry up!" snapped the woman. |
| Mesar je sad stajao držeći ruke izvan pogleda, ispod pulta. | The butcher now stood with his hands out of sight below the counter. |
| "Vidi", prošaptao je Foxe. Shaw se malo nagnuo prema natrag i zirnuo pod tezgu. | "Look," whispered Foxe. Shaw leaned back a trifle to peer below the case. |
| Jedna mesarova krvava ruka, što je do maločas bila prazna, sad je čvrsto stiskala srebrenu sataru, pa se opustila, pa je čvrsto stisnula, pa se opustila. Mesarove su oči bile plave i opasno spokojne nad bijelom porculanskom tezgom, dok je žena vikala u te oči i to rumeno suzdržano lice. | In one of the butcher's bloody hands, empty before, a silvery meat ax was now clenched tightly, relaxed, clenched tightly, relaxed. The butcher's eyes were blue and dangerously serene above the white porcelain counter while the woman yelled into those eyes and that pink self-contained face. |
| "Sad mi vjeruješ?" prošaptao je Foxe. "Zaista joj je potrebna naša pomoć." | "Now do you believe?" whispered Foxe. "She really needs our help." |
| Dugo su se zagledali u krvavocrvene istučene odreske, i opažali sva ona sitna ulubljenja i tragove na mjestima gdje ih je čelični bat lupio deset tuceta puta. | They stared at the raw red cube-steaks for a long time, noticing all the little dents and marks where it had been hit, ten dozen times, by a steel mallet. |
| Tulež se nastavio kod piljara i kod sitničara, a ona su je dva starca slijedila na respektabilnoj udaljenosti. | The braying continued at the grocer's and the dime store, with the two old men following at a respectful distance. |
| "Gospođa predsmrtna želja", rekao je gospodin Foxe tiho. 'To je kao da dvogodišnjak istrči na bojište. Rekao bi čovjek, svakog će časa naletjeti na minu; bum! Pobrini se da temperatura bude baš kako treba, da bude previše vlage u zraku, da ih nešto svrbi, da se znoje i da su razdražljivi. Kad najednom upada ta bajna dama, pa jamra i vrišti. I onda zbogom. Dobro, Shaw, krećemo na posao?" | "Mrs. Death-Wish," said Mr. Foxe quietly. "It's like watching a two-year-old run out on a battlefield. Any moment, you say, she'll hit a mine; bang! Get the temperature just right, too much humidity, everyone itching, sweating, irritable. Along'll come this fine lady, whining, shrieking. And so good-by. Well, Shaw, do we start business?" |
| "Misliš da joj samo tako priđemo?!" Shawa je zaprepastilo to što je svojim pitanjem sam predložio. "O, ta ne misliš valjda? Mislio sam da je to više kao nekakav hobi. Ljudi, navike, običaji, i tako dalje. Bilo je jako zabavno. Ali se i stvarno umiješati..? Imamo mi i pametnijeg posla." | "You mean just walk up to her?" Shaw was stunned by his own suggestion. "Oh, but we're not really going to do this, are we? I thought it was sort of a hobby. People, habits, customs, et cetera. It's been fun. But actually mixing in--? We've better things to do." |
| "Ma je li baš?" Foxe se, klimajući glavom, zaputio ulicom do mjesta gdje je žena istrčala pred automobile, i natjerala ih da zakoče uz strašan cvil guma, trubljenje i psovke. "Jesmo li mi kršćani? Hoćemo li dopustiti da je njeno podsvjesno ponudi za hranu lavovima? Ili ćemo je preobratiti?" | "Have we?" Foxe nodded down the street to where the woman ran out in front of cars, making them stop with a great squall of brakes, horn-blowing, and cursing. "Are we Christians? Do we let her feed herself subconsciously to the lions? Or do we convert her?" |
| "Preobratiti?" | "Convert her?" |
| "Za ljubav, za spokojstvo, za duži život. Daj je pogledaj. Ona ne želi više živjeti. Zato namjerno piga ljude. Već za koji dan netko će joj učiniti uslugu čekićem ili strihninom. Ovo joj je već treći put kako u zadnje vrijeme ide u grad. Kad se čovjek utapa, postaje gadan, hvata se za ljude, vrišti. Daj da nešto prigrizemo i malo joj pripomognemo, može? U suprotnom, naša će žrtva trčkarati sve dok ne nađe svog ubojicu." Shaw je stajao, a sunce ga je bacalo na uskuhani bijeli pločnik, pa se na trenutak učinilo da se ulica nagnula do okomice, pretvorila se u liticu niz koju žena pada prema usijanome nebu. Napokon je zatresao glavom. | "To love, to serenity, to. a longer life. Look at her. Doesn't want to live any more. Deliberately aggravates people. One day soon, someone'll favor her, with a hammer, or strychnine. She's been going down for the third time a long while now. When you're drowning, you get nasty, grab at people, scream. Let's have lunch and lend a hand, eh? Otherwise, our victim will run on until she finds her murderer." Shaw stood with the sun driving him into the boiling white sidewalk, and it seemed for a moment the street tilted vertically, became a cliff down which the woman fell toward a blazing sky. At last he shook his head. |
| "Imaš pravo", rekao je. "Ne bih je volio imati na duši." Sunce je palilo boju na najamnim kućama, nemilo izblijeđivalo zrak a vodu u jarcima pretvaralo u paru, sredinom popodneva, baš kad su starci, zatupljeni i upareni, stajali u unutrašnjem prolazu kuće koji je, poput kakvoga lijevka, u prljećoj bujici nosio zrak iz pekare, na prednjoj strani, prema stražnjem dijelu kuće. Kad bi progovorili, činili su to potisnutim, prigušenim govorom ljudi u parnoj kupki, apsurdno umornih i dalekih. | "You're right," he said. "I wouldn't want her on my conscience." The sun burnt the paint from the tenement fronts, bleached the air raw and turned the gutter-waters to vapor by midafternoon when the old men, numbed and evaporated, stood in the inner passageways of a house that funneled bakery air from front to back in a searing torrent. When they spoke it was the submerged, muffled talk of men in steam rooms, preposterously tired and remote. |
| Otvorila su se kućna vrata. Foxe je zaustavio dječaka što je nosio već pošteno izmrcvaren kruh. "Sinko, tražimo jednu žensku koja, kad izlazi iz kuće, grozno tresne vratima." | The front door opened. Foxe stopped a boy who carried a wellmangled loaf of bread. "Son, we're looking for the woman who gives the door an awful slam when she goes out." |
| "O, nju?" Dječak je potrčao uza stube, pa se okrenuo i kliknuo: "Gospođa Shrike!" | "Oh, her?" The boy ran upstairs, calling back. "Mrs. Shrike!" |
| Foxe je zgrabio Shawa za mišicu. "Bože, Bože! To ne može biti istina!" | Foxe grabbed Shaw's arm. "Lord, Lord! It can't be true!" |
| "Hoću kući", rekao je Shaw. | "I want to go home," said Shaw. |
| "Ali to je tu!" rekao je Foxe u nevjerici i kucnuo štapom u spisak imena u predvorju. "Gospodin i gospođa Alfred Shrike, 331 na katu! Muž je lučki radnik, krupan masivni siledžija, i kući se vraća sav prljav. Vidio sam ih u nedjelju, ona je ceketala, a on ni be, ni da bi je pogledao. No daj, Shaw." | "But there it is!" said Foxe, incredulous, tapping his cane on the room-index in the lobby. "Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Shrike, 331 upstairs! Husband's a longshoreman, big hulking brute, comes home dirty. Saw them out on Sunday, her jabbering, him never speaking, never looking at her. Oh, come on, Shaw." |
| "Nikakva korist", rekao je Shaw. "Ljudima poput nje ne možeš pomoći ako to sami ne žele. To je prvi zakon duševnoga zdravlja. Ti ga znaš, ja ga znam. Ako joj se nađeš na putu, zgazit će te. Ne budi blesav." | "It's no use," said Shaw. "You can't help people like her unless they want to be helped. That's the first law of mental health. You know it, I know it. If you get in her way, she'll trample you. Don't be a fool." |
| "Ali tko da to objasni njoj - i njoj sličnima? Njen muž? Prijatelji? Piljar, mesar? Ti će joj pjevati na sprovodu! Hoće li joj oni reći da joj treba psihijatar? Zna li to ona? Ne. A tko zna? Mi znamo. I onda, molim, nećeš valjda žrtvi uskratiti tako vitalnu informaciju?" | "But who's to speak for her--and people like her? Her husband? Her friends? The grocer, the butcher? They'd sing at her wake! Will they tell her she needs a psychiatrist? Does she know it? No. Who knows it? We do. Well, then, you don't keep vital information like that from the victim, do you?" |
| Shaw je protresao svoj promočeni šešir i sumorno se u nj zapiljio. "Jednom davno, na satu biologije, profesor nas je upitao što mislimo, da li bismo mogli ukloniti nervni sustav žabe, i to nedirnut, skalpelom. Izvaditi čitavu tu delikatnu građevinu, sličnu ticalima, sa sićušnim ružičastim čičcima i polu-nevidljivim ganglijama. Nemoguće, naravno. Živčani je sustav toliko srašten sa žabom, da se on nipošto ne može izvući iz nje poput ruke iz zelene rukavice. Jer to bi žabu uništilo. Pa mislim, takva je gospođa Shrike. Ne postoji nikakav način da se operira ganglija koja je otišla na kvasinu. Žuč je i u samoj staklenim njezinih pobješnjelih slonovskih očica. Mogao bi joj isto tako pokušati zauvijek ukloniti svu slinu iz usta. Sve je to jako tužno. Ali ja mislim da smo već i dosad otišli predaleko." | Shaw took off his sopping hat and gazed bleakly into it. "Once, in biology class, long ago, our teacher asked if we thought we could remove a frog's nervous system, intact, with a scalpel. Take out the whole delicate antennalike structure, with all its little pink thistles and half-invisible ganglions. Impossible, of course. The nervous system's so much a part of the frog there's no way to pull it like a hand from a green glove. You'd destroy the frog, doing it. Well, that's Mrs. Shrike. There's no way to operate on a souring ganglion. Bile is in the vitreous humor of her mad little elephant eyes. You might as well try to get all the saliva out of her mouth forever. It's very sad. But I think we've gone too far already." |
| "Istina", odgovorio je Foxe i strpljivo i iskreno, pa kimnuo glavom. "Ali ja bih joj samo želio poslati jedno malo upozorenje. Ubaciti joj u podsvijest sitno zrno. Reći joj: 'Ti si kandidat za umorstvo, žrtva koja traži zgodu da joj se to dogodi.' Želio bih joj u glavu usaditi samo to jedno sitno zrno, sve u nadi da će izniknuti i procvasti. To je vrlo slabašna, sasvim jadna nada da bi, prije nego što bude prekasno, ona mogla skupiti hrabrosti pa otići psihijatru!" | "True," said Foxe patiently, earnestly, nodding. "But all I want to do is post a warning. Drop a little seed in her subconscious. Tell her, 'You're a murderee, a victim looking for a place to happen.' One tiny seed I want to plant in her head and hope it'll sprout and flower. A very faint, very poor hope that before it's too late, she'll gather her courage and go see a psychiatrist!" |
| "Prevruće je za priču." | "It's too hot to talk." |
| "Razlog više da se nešto učiniti. Na trideset tri stupnja počini se više ubojstava nego i na jednoj drugoj temperaturi. Kad prijeđe trideset sedam, prevruće je za kretanje. Ispod trideset, već je nekako moguće preživjeti. Ali baš na trideset tri stupnja leži maksimum razdražljivosti, i sve se pretvara u svrab, i dlake, i znoj i kuhanu svinjetinu. Mozak se pretvara u štakora što srlja kroz labirint usijan do crvenog. I najmanja sitnica, jedna riječ, pogled, zvuk, ako čovjeku padne dlaka s glave i - eto ubojstva u afektu. Ubojstvo u afektu, eto ti jedne krasne i užasne fraze. Pogledaj termometar u predvorju, trideset stupnjeva. I sad polako puže prema trideset jedan, pa će ga svrab tjerati do trideset dva, pa će se za sat, možda dva od sada, znojno popeti na trideset tri. Evo nam i prvog niza stepenica. Možemo predahnuti na svakom odmorištu. Idemo!" | "All the more reason to act! More murders are committed at ninety-two degrees Fahrenheit than any other temperature. Over one hundred, it's too hot to move. Under ninety, cool enough to survive. But right at ninety-two degrees lies the apex of irritability, everything is itches and hair and sweat and cooked pork. The brain becomes a rat rushing around a red-hot maze. The least thing, a word, a look, a sound, the drop of a hair and--irritable murder. irritable murder, there's a pretty and terrifying phrase for you. Look at that hall thermometer, eighty-nine degrees. Crawling up toward ninety, itching up toward ninety-one, sweating toward ninety-two an hour, two hours from now. Here's the first flight of stairs. We can rest on each landing. Up we go!" |
| Dva su se čovjeka gibala kroz tamu drugoga kata. | The two old men moved in the third-floor darkness. |
| "Ne gledaj brojeve", rekao je Foxe. "Daj da pogodimo koji je stan njen." | "Don't check the numbers," said Foxe. "Let's guess which apartment is hers." |
| Iza posljednjih je vrata grunuo radio, a pradrevna se boja stresla, sljuštila i meko se poput pahulje spustila na izlizani sag pod njihovim nogama. Vidjeli su kako su se čitava vrata u svojim utorima zabacakala od vibracija. | Behind the last door a radio exploded, the ancient paint shuddered and flaked softly onto the worn carpet at their feet. The men watched the entire door jitter with vibration in its grooves. |
| Pogledali su se i turobno zakimali glavom. | They looked at each other and nodded grimly. |
| Kroz šperu se, kao sjekira, prosjekao još jedan glas; neka je žena preko telefona vriskala na nekoga na drugom kraju grada. | Another sound cut like an ax through the paneling; a woman, shrieking to someone across town on a telephone. |
| "Što će joj telefon. Mogla bi samo otvoriti prozor." | "No phone necessary. She should just open her window and yell." |
| Foxe je zakucao na vrata. | Foxe rapped. |
| Radio je treštao kraj pjesme, glas je urlao. Foxe je još jednom zalupao i okrenuo kvaku. Na njegov užas, vrata su se oslobodila njegova zahvata i hitro zaplovila unutra, tako da su ostali kao glumci uhvaćeni na sceni kad se zastor digne prerano. | The radio blasted out the rest of its song, the voice bellowed. Foxe rapped again, and tested the knob. To his horror the door got free of his grasp and floated swiftly inward, leaving them like actors trapped on-stage when a curtain rises too soon. |
| "O, ne!" uskliknuo je Shaw. | "Oh, no!" cried Shaw. |
| Pokopao ih je povodanj zvukova. Bilo je kao da su stali pod preljev brane i povukli polugu ustave. Starci su instinktivno digli ruke i trznuli se, kao daje zvuk čisto jarko sunce što im pali oči. | They were buried in a flood of sound. It was like standing in the spiliway of a dam and pulling the gate-lever. Instinctively, the old men raised their hands, wincing as if the sound were pure blazing sunlight that burnt their eyes. |
| Žena je pak - bila je to doista gospođa Shrike! - stajala pri zidnom telefonu, a iz usta joj je nevjerojatnom brzinom frcala slina. Pokazivala je sve svoje krupne bijele zube, i mitraljirala svojim monologom; nosnice su joj bile širom raširene, na mokrom se čelu bočila žila, pumpajući krv, a slobodna joj se šaka stezala i širila. Oči su joj bile čvrsto stegnute, i onda je povikala: | The woman (it was indeed Mrs. Shrike!) stood at a wall phone, saliva flying from her mouth at an incredible rate. She showed all of her large white teeth, chunking off her monologue, nostrils flared, a vein in her wet forehead ridged up, pumping, her free hand flexing and unflexing itself. Her eyes were clenched shut as she yelled: |
| "Reci tom prokletom zetu da mi ne dolazi na oči, jer je propalitet i niškoristi!" | "Tell that damned son-in-law of mine I won't see him, he's a lazy hum!" |
| Najednom je žena strelimice razrogačila oči, jer je upad više osjetila životinjskim instinktom, a manje čula i vidjela. Nastavila se drati u telefon, istodobno probadajući posjetitelje pogledom iskovanim od najhladnijeg čelika. Vrištala je još čitavu minutu, pa zalupila slušalicom i rekla bez predaha: "Što je?" | Suddenly the woman snapped her eyes wide, some animal instinct having felt rather than heard or seen an intrusion. She continued yelling into the phone, meanwhile piercing her visitors with a glance forged of the coldest steel. She yelled for a full minute longer, then slammed down the receiver and said, without taking a breath: "Well?" |
| Ona su se dvojica primakla jedan drugome, kao da traže zaštitu. Usne su im se pomakle. | The two men moved together for protection. Their lips moved. |
| "Govorite!" vrisnula je žena. | "Speak up!" cried the woman. |
| "Biste li bili ljubezni", odgovorio je Foxe, "pa malo stišali taj radio?" | "Would you mind," said Foxe, "turning the radio down?" |
| Tu riječ "radio" pročitala im je s usana. I dalje ih strijeljajući očima na preplanulu licu, pljusnula je radio ni ne pogledavši ga, onako kako se pljuska dijete što svakodnevno povazdan plače, pretvorivši se tako u već nezamjetljivi detalj života. Radio je malo malaksao. | She caught the word "radio" by lip reading. Still glaring at them out of her sunburnt face, she slapped the radio without looking at it, as one slaps a child that cries all day every day and has become an unseen pattern in life. The radio subsided. |
| "Ništa ne kupujem!" Razderala je raskupusanu kutiju jeftinih cigareta kao daje to kost s mesom, ubacila cigaretu u različena usta, pa je zapalila, i stala pohlepno sisati dim i bacati ga kroz tanke nosnice, sve dok se nije pretvorila u grozničavoga zmaja što im je sad stajao, oči u oči, u ognjem zamagljenoj prostoriji. "Imam posla. Recite to što imate reći!" | "I'm not buyin' anything!" She ripped a dog-eared packet of cheap cigarettes like it was a bone with meat on it, snapped one of the cigarettes in her smeared mouth and lit it, sucking greedily on the smoke, jetting it through her thin nostrils until she was a feverish dragon confronting them in a fire-clouded room. "I got work to do. Make your pitch!" |
| Pogledali su magazine rasute po podu od linoleuma poput velika ulova jarko šarenih riba, pa neopranu šalicu za kavu kraj slomljene stolice za ljuljanje, pa nagnute, masnim palcima zamrljane svjetiljke, musave prozore, suđe shrpano u sudoperu pod pipom što je stalno kapala i kapala, paučinu što je, poput mrtve kože, lebdjela u kutovima stropa, a nad svim je tim lebdio zgusnuti miris života življenog i previše i predugo i sa spuštenim prozorom. | They looked at the magazines spilled like great catches of brightcolored fish on the linoleum floor, the unwashed coffee cup near the broken rocking chair, the tilted, greasy thumb-marked lamps, the smudged windowpanes, the dishes piled in the sink under a steadily dripping, dripping faucet, the cobwebs floating like dead skin in the ceiling corners, and over all of it the thickened smell of life lived too much, too long, with the window down. |
| Pogledali su zidni termometar. | They saw the wall thermometer. |
| Temperatura: trideset dva stupnja Celzija. | Temperature: ninety degrees Fahrenheit. |
| Uputili su jedan drugom napol zapanjen pogled. | They gave each other a half-startled look. |
| "Ja sam gospodin Foxe, a ovo je gospodin Shaw. Mi smo akviziteri osiguravajućeg društva u mirovini. Pa ipak još pokatkad prodajemo, tek toliko da malo popunimo penziju. Većinom, međutim, hladujemo i..." | "I'm Mr. Foxe, this is Mr. Shaw. We're retired insurance salesmen. We still sell occasionally, to supplement our retirement fund. Most of the time, however, we're taking it easy and--" |
| "Hoćete mi prodati osiguranje!" Nagnula je glavu i pogledala ih kroz cigaretni dim. | "You tryin' to sell me insurance!" She cocked her head at them through the cigarette smoke. |
| "Ali tu se ništa ne plaća, ne." | "There's no money connected with this, no." |
| "Samo nastavite", rekla je ona. | "Keep talking," she said. |
| "Ne znam ni kako da počnem. Možemo sjesti?" Osvrnuo se i zaključio da u sobi nema baš ničega čemu bi mogao povjeriti svoju težinu. "Ništa zato." Vidio je da se ona opet sprema zakričati, i zato je žurno nastavio. "Povukli smo se nakon što smo četrdest godina pratili ljude takoreći od rodilišta do grobljanskih vrata. U međuvremenu smo došli do izvjesnih uvjerenja. Lani, dok smo sjedili u parku, zbrojili smo dva i dva. I zaključili da mnogi ljudi ne bi trebali umrijeti tako mladi. Ako bi se provelo korektno istraživanje, osiguravajućim bi se kompanijama, kao pomoćno sredstvo, mogao pribaviti nov tip informacija o klijentima..." | "I hardly know how to begin. May we sit down?" He looked about and decided there wasn't a thing in the room he would trust himself to sit on. "Never mind." He saw she was about to bellow again, so went on swiftly. "We retired after forty years of seeing people from nursery to cemetery gate, you might say. In that time we'd formulated certain opinions. Last year, sitting in the park talking, we put two and two together. We realized that many people didn't have to die so young. With the correct investigation, a new type of Customer's Information might be provided as a sideline by insurance companies . . ." |
| "Ja nisam bolesna", rekla je žena. | "I'm not sick," said the woman. |
| "Ma bogami jeste!" uskliknuo je gospodin Foxe, pa u zabuni stavio dva prsta na usta. | "Oh, hut you are!" cried Mr. Foxe, and then put two fingers to his mouth in dismay. |
| "Nemojte me samo učiti što ja jesam, što ja nisam!" zakričala je žena. | "Don't tell me what I am!" she cried. |
| Foxe se bacio naglavce. "Bit ću posve jasan. Ljudi, psihološki gledano, umiru svakodnevno. Neki se dio njih umori. I onda taj mali dio pokušava ubiti čitavog čovjeka. Tako na primjer..." Osvrnuo se i, s nečim što bi se moglo nazvati skoro golemim olakšanjem, uhvatio se za svoj prvi dokaz. "Evo! Ta žarulja u vašoj kupaonici, visi točno iznad kade na ogoljeloj žici. Jednog ćete se dana okliznuli, uhvatiti je... i pff!" | Foxe plunged headlong. "Let me make it clear. People die every day, psychologically speaking. Some part of them gets tired. And that small part tries to kill off the entire person. For example--" He looked about and seized on his first evidence with what amounted to a vast relief. "There! That light bulb in your bathroom, hung right over the tub on frayed wire. Someday you'll slip, make a grab and--pfft!" |
| Gospođa Albert J. Shrike priškiljila je na žarulju u kupaoni. "I onda?" | Mrs. Albert J. Shrike squinted at the light bulb in the bathroom. "So?" |
| "Ljudima," rekao je gospodin Foxe i počeo se zagrijavati za svoju temu, dok je gospodin Shaw nešto prtljao, a onda, lica sad rumenog, sad užasno blijedog, polako pošao prema vratima, "ljudima, baš kao i automobilima, treba povremeno provjeriti kočnice; njihove emotivne kočnice, shvaćate? Njihove farove, njihove akumulatore, njihov pristup životnim odgovornostima." | "People," Mr. Foxe warmed to his subject, while Mr. Shaw fidgeted, his face now flushed, now dreadfully pale, edged toward the door, "people, like cars, need their brakes checked; their emotional brakes, do you see? Their lights, their batteries, their approaches and responses to life." |
| Gospođa Shrike je na ovo samo prezrivo otpuhnula. | Mrs. Shrike snorted. "Your two minutes are up. I haven't learned a damned thing." |
| "Vaše su dvije minute prošle. Otkrili ste mi Ameriku." Gospodin Foxe je žmimuo, najprije na nju pa na sunce što je nemilosrdno pržilo kroz prašnjave prozore. Niz lice mu se, u mekim nitima, slijevao znoj. Odvažio se pogledati na zidni termometar. | Mr. Foxe blinked, first at her, then at the sun burning mercilessly through the dusty windowpanes. Perspiration was running in the soft lines of his face. He chanced a look at the wall thermometer. |
| "Trideset dva i pol", rekao je. | "Ninety-one," he said. |
| "Što te ždere, djedice?" upitala je gospođa Shrike. | "What's eating you, pop?" asked Mrs. Shrike. |
| "Samo čas." Zadivljeno se zapiljio u crveno usijanu živinu nit ispaljenu kroz mali stakleni dimnjak na drugoj strani sobe. "Pokatkad - pokatkad svi mi krenemo krivim putem. Pri izboru bračnoga druga. Ili nađemo krivi posao. Pa nemamo para. Pa je tu bolest. Migrenske glavobolje. Hormonalni poremećaji. Deseci sitnih uboda koji nas draže. I prije riego što i shvatite što činite, sve to istresate na prvoga koji naiđe." | "I beg your pardon." He stared in fascination at the red-hot line of mercury firing up the small glass vent across the room. "Sometimes--sometimes we all make wrong turnings. Our choice of marriage partners. A wrong job. No money. Illness. Migraine headaches. Glandular deficiencies. Dozens of little prickly, irritable things. Before you know it, you're taking it out on everyone everywhere." |
| Zurila mu je u usta kao da govori nekakvim stranim jezikom, pa se mrštila, pa škiljila, pa naginjala glavu, dok joj je u punačkoj ruci tinjala cigareta. | She was watching his mouth as if he were talking a foreign language; she scowled, she squinted, she tilted her head, her cigarette smoldering in one plump hand. |
| "Idemo svijetom, vrištimo i stvaramo si neprijatelje." Foxe je progutao slinu i skrenuo pogled. "Tjeramo ljude da požele da - odemo - razbolimo se - čak i da umremo. Ljudi nas požele udariti, raspaliti, pucati u nas. Sve je to, naravno, podsvjesno. Shvaćate?" | "We run about screaming, making enemies." Foxe swallowed and glanced away from her. "We make people want to see us-- gone--sick--dead, even. People want to hit us, knock us down, shoot us. It's all unconscious, though. You see?" |
| Bože, što je ovdje vruće, pomislio je. Kad bi otvorila bar jedan prozor. Samo jedan. Otvorila bar jedan prozor. | God, it's hot in here, he thought. If there were only one window open. Just one. Just one window open. |
| Oči gospođe Shrike počele su se širiti, kao da žele primiti sve što je rečeno. | Mrs. Shrike's eyes were widening, as if to allow in everything he said. |
| "Neki su ljudi skloni nesrećama, što znači da sami sebe žele tjelesno kazniti za neki zločin, obično neki sitni grijeh za koji misle da su ga već odavno zaboravili. Ali ih njihova podsvijest dovodi u opasne situacije, tjera ih da prelaze po crvenom, tjera ih..." Zastao je, a s brade mu je zakapao znoj. "Tjera ih da se ne obaziru na oguljene instalacije nad kadom... Svi su oni potencijalne žrtve. To im piše na čelu, skriveno poput... poput tetovaže, mogli bismo reći, na unutrašnjoj umjesto vanjskoj strani kože. Ubojica koji prolazi kraj takva nesreći sklonoga čovjeka, čovjeka koji čezne za smrću, vidjet će te nevidljive znakove, okrenuti se, i poći za njima, instinktivno, do najbližeg prolaza. Ima li sreće, potencijalna se žrtva potencijalnom ubojici neće pedeset godina naći na putu. A onda - jednoga popodneva - kob! Svi ti ljudi, smrti naklonjeni, strancima u prolazu dimu sve krive živce; oni timare ubojicu što ga svi nosimo u grudima." | "Some people are not only accident-prones, which means they want to punish themselves physically, for some crime, usually a petty immorality they think they've long forgotten. But their subconscious puts them in dangerous situations, makes them jaywalk, makes them--" He hesitated and the sweat dripped from his chin. "Makes them ignore frayed electric cords over bathtubs-- they're potential victims. It is marked on their faces, hidden like-- like tattoos, you might say, on the inner rather than the outer skin. A murderer passing one of these accident-prones, these wishersafter-death, would see the invisible markings, turn, and follow them, instinctively, to the nearest alley. With luck, a potential victim might not happen to cross the tracks of a potential murderer for fifty years. Then--one afternoon--fate! These people, these death-prones, touch all the wrong nerves in passing strangers; they brush the murder in all our breasts." |
| Gospođa Shrike je zgnječila cigaretu u prljavom tanjuriću, sasvim polako. | Mrs. Shrike mashed her cigarette in a dirty saucer, very slowly. |
| Foxe je prebacio štap iz jedne drhtave ruke u drugu. "I tako smo prije godinu dana odlučili da pođemo potražiti ljude kojima je potrebna pomoć. Ti ljudi nikad ni ne znaju da im je ona potrebna, te nikad ni ne pomišljaju da bi mogli poći psihijatru. Isprva ćemo, rekoh, voziti malo na prazno. Shaw je uvijek bio protiv toga, osim kao hobija, nečeg što će, u tišini, ostati samo među nama. Vjerujem da ćete reći da sam lud. Pa dobro, ta godina vožnje na prazno upravo je istekla. Promatrali smo dva muškarca, i s diskretne udaljenosti izučavali faktore njihove okoline, o tome što rade, kakvi su im brakovi. Nisu naša posla, reći ćete? Ali su u oba slučaja ti ljudi završili loše. Jedan ubijen u baru. Drugoga gurnuli kroz prozor. | Foxe shifted his cane from one trembling hand to the other. "So it was that a year ago we decided to try to find people who needed help. These are always the people who don't even know they need help, who'd never dream of going to a psychiatrist. At first, I said, we'll make dry-runs. Shaw was always against it, save as a hobby, a harmless little quiet thing between ourselves. I suppose you'd say I'm a fool. Well, we've just completed a year of dry-runs. We watched two men, studied their environmental factors, their work, marriages, at a discreet distance. None of our business, you say? But each time, the men came to a bad end. One killed in a bar-room. Another pushed out a window. |
| Što se pak tiče žene koju smo izučavali, nju je pregazio tramvaj. Slučajnost? A što je s onim starcem koji se slučajno otrovao? Jedne večeri nije upalio svjetlo u kupaonici. Što mu je to bilo na pameti, a što mu nije dalo upaliti svjetlo? Što ga je natjeralo da uđe u mrak i u mraku popije svoj lijek i sutradan umre u bolnici, izjavljujući kako samo želi živjeti? Dokazi, dokazi, mi ih imamo, mi ih imamo. Dva tuceta slučajeva. I za tako kratko vrijeme polovica već zakovana u ljesove. Nema više prazne vožnje; vrijeme je za djelovanje, za preventivnu uporabu podataka. Vrijeme da počnemo raditi s ljudima, i s njima se sprijateljimo prije nego što im se u kuću kroz bočna vrata uvuče pogrebnik." | A woman we studied, run down by a streetcar. Coincidence? What about that old man accidentally poisoned? Didn't turn on the bathroom light one night. What was there in his mind that wouldn't let him turn the light on? What made him move in the dark and drink medicine in the dark and die in the hospital next day, protesting he wanted nothing but to live? Evidence, evidence, we have it, we have it. Two dozen cases. Coffins nailed to a good half of them in that little time. No more dry-runs; it's time for action, preventative use of data. Time to work with people, make friends before the undertaker slips in the side door." |
| Gospođa Shrike je ustala kao da ju je u glavu, i to sasvim iznebuha, tresnuo nečim silno teškim. A onda su joj se pokrenule samo zamrljane usne. "I zato ste došli ovamo?" | Mrs. Shrike stood as if he had struck her on the head, quite suddenly, with a large weight. Then just her blurred lips moved. "And you came here?" |
| "Mislim..." | "Well--" |
| "Motrili ste i mene?" | "You've been watching me?" |
| "Mi smo samo..." | "We only--" |
| "Slijedili ste mene?" | "Following me?" |
| "Zato da bismo..." | "In order to--" |
| "Van!" rekla je žena. | "Get out!" she said. |
| "Mogli bismo..." | "We can--" |
| "Van!" rekla je žena. | "Get out!" she said. |
| "Kad biste nas samo poslušati..." | "If you'll only listen--" |
| "O, lijepo sam ti govorio što će se dogoditi", rekao je Shaw i zatvorio oči. | "Oh, I said this would happen," whispered Shaw, shutting his eyes. |
| "Smrdljivi starkelje, van!" povikala je žena. | "Dirty old men, get out!" she shouted. |
| "Ne tražimo od vas nikakav novac." | "There's no money involved." |
| "Bacit ću vas van, bacit ću vas van!" zakričala je ona stišćući šake i škripeći zubima. Lice joj je dobilo luđačku boju. "Ma tko ste vi, prljave stare babetine, da dolazite ovamo, i uhodite me, stari budalaši!" povikala je. Dohvatila je slamnati šešir gospodina Foxea i digla mu ga s glave; on je kriknuo; ona mu je istrgla podstavu i počela psovati. "Van, van, van! Van!" Bacila ga je na pod. Probila ga je petom. I šutnula nogom. "Van, van!" | "I'll throw you out, I'll throw you out!" she shrieked, clenching her fists, gritting her teeth. Her face colored insanely. "Who are you, dirty old grandmas, coming here, spying, you old cranks!" she yelled. She seized the straw hat from Mr. Foxe's head; he cried out; she tore the lining from it, cursing. "Get out, get out, get out, get out!" She hurled it to the floor. She crunched one heel through the middle. She kicked it. "Get out, get out!" |
| "Ali, vi nas trebate!" Foxe je očajho zurio u šešir, dok ga je psovala jezikom da se zemlja provali, i mitraljirala riječima što su letjele u zrak poput golemih prljećih zublji. Ta je žena znala sve jezike, i u svima njima svaku riječ. Govorila je s vatrom, alkoholom i dimom. | "Oh, but you need us!" Foxe stared in dismay at the hat as she swore at him in a language that turned corners, blazing, that flew in the air like great searing torches. The woman knew every language and every word in every language. She spoke with fire and alcohol and smoke. |
| "Što vi mislite, tko ste vi? Bog? Bog Otac i Duh Sveti, da tako upadate ljudima, njuškate, u sve zabadate svoj gnusni nos, vi stari blesavci, babuskare pokvarene mašte! Vi, vi..." Potom im je nadjenula još nekoliko imena, imena koja su ih potjerala prema vratima, šokirane i zgrožene. Izverglala im je dug opaki popis imena, ne zastavši ni da udahne zrak. A onda je stala, zadihana, uzdrhtala, usrknula u se golemu masu zraka, pa otpočela nov popis od deset tuceta još gnusnijih imena. | "Who do you think you are? God? God and the Holy Ghost, passing on people, snooping, prying, you old jerks, you old dirtyminded grandmas! You, you--" She gave them further names, names that forced them toward the door in shock, recoiling. She gave them a long vile list of names without pausing for breath. Then she stopped, gasped, trembled, heaved in a great suction of air, and started a further list of ten dozen even viler names. |
| "Vidi sad ovo!" rekao je Foxe i ukrutio se. | "See here!" said Foxe, stiffening. |
| Shaw je već bio izišao, i stao preklinjati svog partnera da pođe za njim, jer je sve i svršeno i gotovo, sve se dogodilo kako je i očekivao, i oni su budale, oni su baš sve što im je rekla da jesu, kakva blamaža! | Shaw was out the door, pleading with his partner to come along, it was over and done, it was as he expected, they were fools, they were everything she said they were, oh, how embarrassing! |
| "Stara djevice!" povikala je žena. | "Old maid!" shouted the woman. |
| "Bio bih vam zahvalan kad biste se izražavali malo pristojnije!" | "I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue." |
| "Stara djevice, stara djevice!" | "Old maid, old maid!" |
| To je zbog nečeg bilo gore od svih onih opakih imena. | Somehow this was worse than all the really vile names. |
| Foxe se zanjihao, usta su mu zakloparala: otvorila se, zatvorila, otvorila, zatvorila. | Foxe swayed, his mouth clapped open, shut, open, shut. |
| "Stara babetino!" kriknula je ona. "Babetino, babetino, babetino!" | "Old woman!" she cried. "Woman, woman, woman!" |
| Bio je u zapaljenoj žutoj džungli. Soba je bila poplavljena vatrom, i stiskala ga kao u šaci, činilo se da se namještaj miče i kovitla, sunce je strijeljalo kroz zabijene prozore, i palilo prašinu, koja je, kad je kroz nju u ludoj spirali zazujala muha, stvorivši se iz niotkuda, odskočila s njene putanje u ljutitim iskrama; njezina usta avetno crvena, lizala su zrak svim skarednostima što su se čitavoga života skupljale netom iza njihova ruba, a iza nje, na spečenim smeđim papirnim tapetama termometar je pokazivao trideset tri, i on ga je pogledao još jednom i on je još jednom pokazao trideset tri, i žena je i dalje vrištala poput kotača vlaka što struže po golemoj željeznoj krivulji tračnica; nokti niz školsku ploču, čelik po mramoru. | He was in a blazing yellow jungle. The room was drowned in fire, it clenched upon him, the furniture seemed to shift and whirl about, the sunlight shot through the rammed-shut windows, firing the dust, which leaped up from the rug in angry sparks when a fly buzzed a crazy spiral from nowhere; her mouth, a feral red thing, licked the air with all the obscenities collected just behind it in a lifetime, and beyond her on the baked brown wallpaper the thermometer said ninety-two, and he looked again and it said ninety-two, and still the woman screamed like the wheels of a train scraping around a vast iron curve of track; fingernails down a blackboard, and steel across marble. "Old maid! Old maid! Old maid!" |
| "Stara djevice! Stara djevice! Stara djevice!" Foxe je zabacio ruku, čvrsto šakom stišćući štap, i podigao je jako visoko, i lupio. | Foxe drew his arm back, cane clenched in fist, very high, and struck. |
| "Ne!" kriknuo je Shaw u dovratku. | "No!" cried Shaw in the doorway. |
| Ali se žena okliznula i pala na bok, krkljajući, i zagrebala po podu. Foxe je stajao nad njom s posve nedvojbenim izrazom nevjerice na licu. Pogledao je svoju ruku i zapešće i šaku i prste, svako posebno, kroz veliki nevidljivi zid od usijanoga kristala koji ga je zatvarao. Pogledao je u štap, kao da je to lako vidljiv i nevjerojatan uskličnik što se, došao iz ničega, stvorio usred sobe. Usta su mu ostala otvorena, a prašina je padala u nečujnim ugarcima, mrtva. Osjetio je kako mu se krv ruši iz lica, kao da mu je netko silovito otvorio vratašca na želucu. "Ja..." | But the woman had slipped and fallen aside, gibbering, clawing the floor. Foxe stood over her with a look of positive disbelief on his face. He looked at his arm and his wrist and his hand and his fingers, each in turn, through a great invisible glaring hot wall of crystal that enclosed him. He looked at the cane as if it was an easily seen and incredible exclamation point come out of nowhere to the center of the room. His mouth stayed open, the dust fell in silent embers, dead. He felt the blood drop from his face as if a small door had banged wide into his stomach. "I--" |
| Njoj je na usta izbila pjena. | She frothed. |
| Dok se tako koprcala, svaki dio njezina tijela kao da se pretvorio u drugu životinju. Njezine ruke i noge, njezine šake, glava, sve su to bili odsječeni dijelovi neke kreature što se divlje željela vratiti u sebe, samo što je bila slijepa na sve što bi je moglo uputiti na mogući put povratka. Iz njezinih je usta i dalje šikljala morbidnost s riječima i zvukovima koji nisu ni izdaleka bili riječi. Dugo se to skupljalo u njoj, dugo, predugo. Foxe ju je pogledao, i sam u stanju šoka. Do današnjega dana, ona je pljuskala svoj otrov i tu i tamo, i ovamo i onamo. A sad je pustila povodanj što se skupljao čitavog života, i on je osjetio opasnost od utapanja. Osjetio je kako ga netko poteže za kaputić. | Scrabbling about, every part of her seemed a separate animal. Her arms and legs, her hands, her head, each was a lopped-off bit of some creature wild to return to itself, but blind to the proper way of making that return. Her mouth still gushed out her sickness with words and sounds that were not even faintly words. It had been in her a long time, a long long time. Foxe looked upon her, in a state of shock, himself. Before today, she had spat her venom out, here, there, another place. Now he had loosed the flood of a lifetime and he felt in danger of drowning here. He sensed someone pulling him by his coat. |
| Vidio je kako mu s obadvije strane promiče okvir vrata. Čuo je kako je štap pao i zazveketao kao tanka koščica, negdje daleko od njegove ruke, u koju kao da ga je ubola nekakva grozna nevidljiva osa. A onda je već bio vani, i hodao posve mehanički, silazio kroz zapaljenu stambenu zgradu, između nagorjelih zidova. Njen ga je glas pratio niza stube, kršeći kao giljotina. "Van! Van! Van!" | He saw the door sills pass on either side. He heard the cane fall and rattle like a thin bone far away from his hand, which seemed to have been stung by some terrible unseen wasp. And then he was out, walking mechanically, down through the burning tenement, between the scorched walls. Her voice crashed like a guillotine down the stair. "Get out! Get out! Get out!" |
| Zamirući poput jauka čovjeka što kroz otvoreno grotlo propada u mrak. | Fading like the wail of a person dropped down an open well into darkness. |
| Na dnu zadnjeg niza stepenica, kraj vrata što su vodila na ulicu, Foxe se otrgao od tog drugog čovjeka što je tu stajao, i na dugi se trenutak naslonio na zid, mokrih očiju, sposoban samo za ječanje. Njegove ruke, dok je to radio, gibale su se kroza zrak, tražeći izgubljeni štap, gibale su mu se po glavi, doticale vlažne vjeđe, zapanjene, pa odlepršale. Deset je minuta u tišini sjedio na najdonjoj stubi predvorja, svakim drhtavim dahom iz pluća istjerujući ludilo. Napokon je gospodin Foxe pogledao gospodina Shawa, koji je punih deset minuta zurio u nj u čudu i u prepasti. | At the bottom of the last flight, near the street door, Foxe turned himself loose from this other man here, and for a long moment leaned against the wall, his eyes wet, able to do nothing but moan. His hands, while he did this, moved in the air to find the lost cane, moved on his head, touched at his moist eyelids, amazed, and fluttered away. They sat on the bottom hall step for ten minutes in silence, drawing sanity into their lungs with every shuddering breath. Finally Mr. Foxe looked over at Mr. Shaw, who had been staring at him in wonder and fright for the full ten minutes. |
| "Jesi vidio što sam učinio? O, o, ovo je bilo za dlaku. Za dlaku. Za dlaku." Zatresao je glavom. "Ja sam budala. Ta sirota, sirota žena. Imala je pravo." | "Did you see what I did? Oh, oh, that was close. Close. Close." He shook his head. "I'm a fool. That poor, poor woman. She was right." |
| "Tu se ništa ne može učiniti." | "There's nothing to be done." |
| "To mi je sad jasno. I to je moralo baš mene dopasti." | "I see that now. It had to fall on me." |
| "Na, obriši si lice. Tako je bolje." | "Here, wipe your face. That's better." |
| "Što misliš, hoće li o nama ispričati gospodinu Shrikeu?" | "Do you think she'll tell Mr. Shrike about us?" |
| "Ne, ne." | "No, no." |
| "Što misliš, bismo li mogli..." | "Do you think we could--" |
| "Razgovarati s njim?" | "Talk to him?" |
| Razmislili su o tome pa zatresli glavom. Otvorili su ulazna vrata bujici talioničke jare i tu ih je skoro srušio s nogu golemi muškarac što je zakoračio između njih. | They considered this and shook their heads. They opened the front door to a gush of furnace heat and were almost knocked down by a huge man who strode between them. |
| "Daj gledaj kud srljaš!" zaderao se on. | "Look where you're going!" he cried. |
| Okrenuli su se i zagledali se u muškarca, dok je ovaj teško gazio, u sablasnoj tami, stepenicu po stepenicu, uspinjući se sve više u stambenu zgradu, u stvorenje s rebrima mastodonta i glavom neostriženoga lava, sa silnim nabildanim ručetinama, razdražljivo dlakava, bolno preplanula. Lice što su ga na trenutak ugledali, dok si je ramenom probijao put između njih, bilo je oznojeno, sirovo, suncem ispečeno svinjsko lice, s kapljicama soli ispod crvenih očiju, sa znojem što je kapao s brade; goleme mrlje znoja kaljale su čovjekova pazuha, i bojala mu majicu do pojasa. | They turned and watched the man move ponderously, in fiery darkness, one step at a time, up into the tenement house, a creature with the ribs of a mastodon and the head of an unshorn lion, with great beefed arms, irritably hairy, painfully sunburnt. The face they had seen briefly as he shouldered past was a sweating, raw, sunblistered pork face, salt droplets under the red eyes, dripping from the chin; great smears of perspiration stained the man's armpits, coloring his tee-shirt to the waist. |
| Nježno su zatvorili vrata stambene zgrade. | They shut the tenement door gently. |
| "To je on", rekao je gospodin Foxe. "To je muž." | "That's him," said Mr. Foxe. "That's the husband." |
| Stajali su u dućančiću preko puta stambene zgrade. Bilo je pet i pol sati, sunce je s neba bacalo kose zrake, a pod rijetkim malobrojnim stablima i u prolazima, sjene su imale boju vrućeg ljetnoga grožđa. | They stood in the little store across from the tenement. It was five-thirty, the sun tilting down the sky, the shadows the color of hot summer grapes under the rare few trees and in the alleys. |
| "A što mu je to virilo iz stražnjega džepa?" | "What was it, hanging out of the husband's back pocket?" |
| "Kuka za sanduke. Čelik. Oštar i težak. Poput onih pandži što su ih jednoruki, davno, znali nositi na batrljcima." Gospodin Foxe nije progovorio ni riječi. | "Longshoreman's hook. Steel. Sharp, heavy-looking. Like those claws one-armed men used to wear on the end of their stumps, years ago." Mr. Foxe did not speak. |
| "Kolika je temperatura?" upitao je gospodin Foxe, minutu potom, kao da je preumoran da okrene glavu i sam pogleda. | "What's the temperature?" asked Mr. Foxe, a minute later, as if he were too tired to turn his head to look. |
| "Termometar u dućanu pokazuje trideset tri. Trideset tri u dlaku točno." | "Store thermometer still reads ninety-two. Ninety-two right on the nose." |
| Foxe je sjedio na sanduku, i micao se samo koliko je potrebno da u prstima zadrži bocu gazirane narančade. "Da mi se malo ohladiti", rekao je. "Da, tako bi mi sad dobro došla gazirana oranžada." | Foxe sat on a packing crate, making the least motion to hold an orange soda bottle in his fingers. "Cool off," he said. "Yes, I need an orange pop very much, right now." |
| I sjedili su tako u pećnici, i dugo gledali baš jedan određen prozor na stambenoj zgradi, i čekali, čekali... | They sat there in the furnace, looking up at one special tenement window for a long time, waiting, waiting . . . |