Autori priče: Amy M. Hirsch i Brian K. Silva
Turistički vodič je dobio publiku
Prije nego što budeš spreman postati beskućnik, budi siguran jesi li sklonio sve naše dragocjene uspomene na sigurno mjesto uz samu obalu mora, tako da kad dobijemo našu veliku sudsku nagodbu i kad si opet budemo mogli priuštiti auto osiguranje, možemo krenuti u toliko neophodnu šetnju do plaže i vratiti ono što je nekada bilo naše.
Ako poneseš Valium, ja ću ponijeti votku, i možda ćemo se napokon prestati svađati. Neprestano ti govorim, svađamo se oko novca i stvari koje posjedujemo, i ovo nema bilo kakvu vezu s mojim osjećajima prema tebi kao osobi.
“Kad bismo samo imali više prostora …” Čućeš me kako šapućem posred mog neprestanog hrkanja noću. Sjećam se, zapravo, kad sam kao jedino dijete živjela u kući na četiri kata … čućeš moje misli dok svake noći zajedničkim silama pokušavamo pronaći rješenje za cijelu ovu zbrku.
Kad već govorim o zbrkama, samo me nastavi slušati i pazi usput na svoj korak, ne daj Bože mogli bismo pokupiti “one bacile, čije ime nećemo izgovoriti, dolje iz stana naše nove susjede”, kako ti kažeš. Donijela ih je u zgradu iz zatvora, tako bar govore na ulici. Da, lûdo, imaju bacile u zatvoru, i ne postoji baš ništa što možeš učiniti u vezi toga. Možda će ti tamo dati uobičajenu četkicu za zube, ali ti neće dati poklopac za četkicu, poput onog kakvog sam ti kupila za Božić u Wegmansovom supermarketu, ili kamping-brtvila za četkice koja smo pronašli na Walmart-u, i neka jedno bude sasvim jasno: u zatvoru ne dijele boce sa dezinfekcijskom tekućinom koja bi ubila svu tu gamad.
Sjećaš se jučer, bilo je to davno, znam, ali probaj se sjetiti, probaj se stvarno, stvarno sjetiti. Da! Naša druga susjeda je vitlala nožem prema drugarici prostitutki, pa ipak, još uvijek mi ne vjeruješ da se one nadaju postati dame.
——————–
Koliko sam mogao shvatiti, polutanskog kučkinog sina je oslijepilo jako alkoholno pivo… Postoje oni koji u zajednici ne mogu funkcionirati pod stresom alkoholnog slada ili mješavine krek kokaina… kuja se uspjela popeti uz osam katova stepenica za svega nekoliko sekundi. Citirajući biblijski tekst i sa pjenom na ustima. Tek nakon što smo je obuzdali, kaos je nastavio svojim normalnim ritmom… ovdje, s vremena na vrijeme, od stvarnosti do nosti, svi mi patimo od nekog izljeva bijesa…
———————
Bila je naga od struka naniže. Govorila je o Bogu i Svijesti i jednosti i tipovima kojima je popušila. Svake dvije minute došla bi k sebi i pitala zašto je tu? Šta je radila tu? Zašto je četiri ljutite crne žene obuzdavaju dok udara nogama i vrišti? I zašto sam jebote sjedio na stolici na drugom kraju sobe, i držao njene torbe? …
Sve vrlo dobra pitanja. Gubici pamćenja zbog posttraumatskog stresa su uobičajeni za našu vrstu. Za nekoliko sati ona će biti u redu ili u Harborview-u* … bio sam zaglavio sa njenim torbama satima prije nego što sam ih se napokon riješio, bilo je previše sranja za nošenje. Imao sam vlastitu prtljagu, i nisam imao namjeru hodati unaokolo sa njenom. Postoji razlog zašto su mazge seronje. Sada to potpuno razumijem.
—————————–
Oh, Harborview! Kakvo mjesto, požuri ako uspiješ proći pored čuvara, oni će se pobrinuti da večeras možeš spavati tu, radije nego na autobusnoj stanici ili u YWCA**. U psihijatrijskom odjelu barem ćeš imati samo jednu cimericu a ne četrdeset ili šezdeset žena koje hrču pored tebe, dok spavaš na strunjači na hladnom podu, s jedva jednom dekom za pokriti se. Svjetla se gase u 11 navečer! Malo više od šest sati kasnije: Dame! Pola je šest! Ustajte odmah ili sutra nećete imati gdje prenoćiti!
Te kršne YWCA žene viču i viču, i ne kažu skoro ništa.
Ma divno, čuvar vas je zaustavio oboje, šta li želi. „Ah, gospodine, ne možete tamo s njom, oboje morate sačekati ovdje, a osoblje će izaći za trenutak i primiti je“.
Šta? Zar je toliko očigledno da smo ovaj put ovdje zbog mene, a ne zbog tebe?
Sjećaš li se kad smo oboje bili ovdje, kako smo se krasno proveli.
Sjedili smo i jeli sendviče sa puretinom, satima činilo se. Kruh od cjelovitog pšeničnog zrna, majoneza i tanko narezana puretina. Bilo je tako ukusno.
Bio si tako ponosan i ljubomoran na mene jer sam uspjela ugrabiti poslastice, kada si ih prvi put vidio na mom pladnju. Čak se ne mogu ni sjetiti o čemu smo razgovarali dok smo objedovali. Mislim da smo mnogo razgovarali o filmovima i ogovarali druge pacijente.
Tu je bio i James Kong.
Izbacili su ga iz ludnice zbog hamburgera koji je zahtijevao. Htio je dvostruki cheeseburger a dobio je običnu pljeskavicu. Bio je tvoj miljenik. Kad si me napustio i sletio u New York po drugi put, ispričao si mi nestvarnu priču: Susreo si ljude koji su poznavali Jamesa Konga, i čini se da je James bio odgovoran za dugi niz pljački koje su se dogodile u Macy’s dućanima u posljednje vrijeme. Tek tako saznati da je James Kong bio kriminalna zvjerka. Mjesecima poslije shvatila sam da si sa svojom fantastičnom maštom u cijelosti izokrenuo priču.
“Zdravo, jeste li ovdje zbog tretmana? Pođite ovuda… ”
Dobro, dođi i posjeti me. Učinit ćeš me sretnom i sve to skupa izgledaće dobro pred liječnicima. I naravno, donesi mi karamele, gledaj da ih nekako prokrijumčariš. Zaboravila sam, da li Harborview uopće dopušta tvrde bombone?
Šta je to s tim mjestima i njihovim tvrdim bombonima? “Dopuštamo vašoj obitelji donijeti jednu stvar za vas: tvrde bombone.” Šta mi mogu učiniti? Hoće li mi usta biti prezauzeta sisanjem nečega, dovoljno da zaboravim gdje sam i gdje ću biti sve dok liječnik kaže da tu trebam biti, ili koliko god on želi da ostanem, sve kako bi zadovoljio svoje nastranosti, i dok napokon ne odluči šta je bolesno a šta zdravo.
Nakon što sam profućkala našu ušteđevinu kupujući tričarije i nakon što si se zakleo da mi opraštaš, iako me jedan dio tebe još uvijek mrzi, vjeruj mi, brojat ću svoje sretne zvijezde jer me ne pljuneš svaki put kad me pogledaš.
Reći ćeš da su bili dani kada si i ti znao zajebati stvari. Ja ću reći – da, kao u dane kada si svake večeri bio onesviješten na podu.
I, podsjetit ćeš me da si pao u nesvijest, nakon što sam cijelu noć lutala ulicama u potrazi za životom.
* Medicinski centar za mentalno zdravlje Okruga Seattle
**Young Women’s Christian Association (Globalni pokret za osnaživanje prava mladih žena i djevojaka u više od 120 zemalja svijeta)
s engleskog preveo Ervin Mujabašić
The Tour Guide Gets An Audience
When you get ready to become homeless, make sure you have packed away all of our treasured mementos in a safe place by the seashore, so that when we get our big settlement and can afford car insurance again, we can take that long sought after trip to the beach and retain what was once ours. If you pack the Valium, Iʼll pack the vodka and maybe weʼll stop fighting. I keep telling you, we are fighting over money and resources, it does not in any way have to do with my feelings for you as a person. “If only we had more space…” Youʼll hear me whisper between my constant snoring at night. I remember when I did in fact have a four-story house as an only child…youʼll hear me think this as we put our heads together each night and try and come up with a solution to this mess.
Speaking of messes, just follow me here, oh and watch your step, God forbid we track in “those bugs we wonʼt speak their name down from our new neighborʼs apartment,” as you say. Word on the street is, that she brought them in the building from jail. Yes, silly, they do have bugs in jail and there is not a damn thing you can do about them. They may give you a standard toothbrush, but they will not get you a travel case for it, like the one I got you for Christmas at Wegmanʼs, or the camping toothbrush tops we found at Walmart, and let me emphasis this point clearly: there is no dispensing of the Windex bottle to each jail cell to kill those nasty suckers.
Remember yesterday, it was a long time ago I know, but think back, think back real real hard. Yes! Our other neighbor was wielding a knife at her fellow prostitute and yet you still donʼt believe me that they are hoping to become madams.
——————–
From what I have gathered the son-of-a-bitching mongrel was blinded by malt liquor… There are some in the community who cannot function under the stress of malt liquor, or the hybrid mixture of crack cocaine…the bitch climbed eight stories of stairs in seconds. Quoting biblical text and foaming at the mouth.. It was only once she was restrained, that the chaos resumed its normal rhythm…around here we all suffer some tantrum or another from time to time reality to ality…
———————
She was naked from the waist down. Talking about God and Consciousness and oneness and blow-jobs. Every two minutes sheʼd snap in and ask why was she here? What was she doing? Why was there four angry black women restraining her as she kicked and screamed? And why the fuck was i sitting in a chair across the room holding her bags?…
All very valid questions. Black outs due to post-traumatic stress are common among our kind. In a few hours sheʼd either be either be okay, or in Harborview… I was stuck with her bags for hours before I eventually abandoned them, it was too much bullshit to carry. I already had my own baggage and i wasn’t walking around with hers. There is a reason mules are assholes. I now understand that.
—————————–
Oh, Harborview! What a place that is, hurry if you make it past the guards, they will ensure that you can sleep here tonight rather than at a bus stop or the YWCA. At least in the psych ward you would only have one roommate rather than forty or sixty women snoring next to you, while you sleep on a mat on a cold floor with barely a blanket to cover you. Lights out at 11pm! A little over six hours later: Ladies! Itʼs 5:30! Get up now or donʼt have a place to sleep tomorrow!
Those burly YWCA women yell and yell and donʼt say much.
Oh great, the guard has stopped you both, what does he want. “Ah, sir you canʼt go back there with her, you both have to wait here and the staff will come out and register her.”
What? Is it obvious that weʼre here for me and not you this time?
Remember when we were both here, how grand a time that was.
We sat and ate turkey sandwiches for what seemed like hours.
Just whole wheat sandwich bread, Mayo, and turkey slices. It tasted so good.
You were so proud and jealous of me for scoring the treats when you first saw them on my tray. I donʼt even remember what we talked about over those meals. I think it may have been a lot about the movies, and gossip of our fellow patients.
There was James Kong.
He got kicked out of the loony bin for demanding the burger he ordered. It was a double cheeseburger he wanted and he only got a plain patty. He was your favorite. When you left me and you landed in New York City a second time, you told me a great fantasy: You met people that knew James Kong and he was responsible for the long string of robberies that had taken place at Macyʼs recently. To learn that James Kong was a kingpin! I realized months later that it was your fantastic imagination that had spun the tale. “Hello, are you here for treatment? Come this way…” Okay, well please come and visit me. It makes me happy and it looks good in front of the doctors. Sure, bring Jolly Ranchers, see if you can slip ʻem in, I forget. Does Harborview allow hard candy?
What is it with these places and their hard candy? “We allow your family to bring in one thing for you: hard candy.” Whatʼs that going to do for me? Occupy my mouth by sucking on something so I forget where I am, and where Iʼll be as long as the doctor says I need to be, or as long as he wants me to stay in order to entertain his perversions and until he decides what is sick and what is well.
After Iʼve spent our savings on throw away purchases and you swear youʼve forgiven me, but that part of you hates me, trust me Iʼll count my lucky stars that you donʼt spit in my face each time you look at me. Youʼll say that there were times when you fucked up.
Iʼll say yeah, like the days when you were passed out on the floor every night.
And, you’ll remind me that you passed out, after I wandered the streets all night looking for life.
Amy M. Hirsch je rođena u gradu Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Potječe iz porodice književnika. Ranije je objavljivala prozu u sklopu multimedijalnog projekta A Dolphin Tavern Book Project. Amy je nedavno završila Magisterij iz umjetnosti, Odjela za spisateljstvo na Univerzitetu Columbia. Izrazito je počastvovana prilikom da njena proza bude prevedena i objavljena na stranici PEN-a.
Brian Keith Silva je samouki muzičar i pisac, režiser i profesionalni ton majstor, rođen na granici država Georgia i Florida. Producira i stvara sopstvenu muziku; sarađivao je sa muzičkim grupama Blue Sun Machine Gun, Les Dillinger, Of Roses. Ovo je njegov prvi objavljen tekst.
9,777 total views, 1 views today
