The White King (10 page)

As I went over to the chair I kept my eye on Iron Fist's face the whole time, his mustache was cut really short but was still pretty striking, and he was clean-shaven everywhere else, so anyway, he waited until I sat down, and then he slowly came over and stopped in front of the chair, and while standing there he leaned against one of the glass cabinets, I could see the colored plastic models of the heart and internal organs behind him, we hadn't studied those yet, human anatomy was taught in seventh grade, and then Iron Fist said I didn't have to lie, I could be honest with him.

I nodded but didn't say a thing because I knew that until you get questions fired at you, you don't really need to say much of anything, no, that can only spell trouble, so I waited for him to ask me something, but Iron Fist didn't say a thing, he just kept puffing his cigarette, at least he wasn't blowing the
smoke on me anymore, and at last he spoke. He asked if I really did like those Homeland Defense competitions because he remembered well how angry I'd been when he dropped me from the team, and I just sort of half nodded and half shook my head, I didn't know what the proper answer was, if I said yes, that's why he'd slap me around, and if I said no, then that would be the reason, but I had to say something, because if I didn't I'd get slapped all the same, so finally I told him that what I really liked was shooting, not that I told Iron Fist why, I didn't say it's because when I was little my dad taught me to use an air gun and took me to the shooting gallery a lot, where the two of us always hit everything right on target, one time I even shot out a candle's flame. Anyway, all I told Iron Fist was that I liked to shoot, and he nodded and said he could tell that from the way I held a gun, which was just the way you're supposed to, I was a natural born talent, and he was really sorry when he had to drop me from the team, but he had no other choice, Comrade Principal told him flat out that on account of what happened to my father, I wasn't allowed to be on the team because I too had become unreliable from a political point of view, and what they teach at Homeland Defense competitions is a highly classified state secret, and it's best for me not to even know that stuff because I might get into trouble on account of it. And Iron Fist really was right about that, one time I almost got into big trouble because of what we learned about radioactivity, but that didn't matter a bit, I would have been angry at him all the same for taking me off the team, but I knew that these questions were just meant to soften me up and what he really wanted was for me to admit that I had taken the valve out of his motorcycle wheel, and so I didn't say anything else, I didn't even look into his eyes, no, instead I looked at those plastic models behind his back, the seventh graders said there was even one of the female genital organ and that it looked just like the real thing, but of course I didn't see that model anywhere, it must have been locked away in the lower cabinet.

So anyway, I was looking at those models and not saying a thing, Iron Fist was smoking his cigarette and not saying a thing, and I had no idea what he was planning, so I began getting more and more worried, and then I heard the bell ring, and I knew that physics class was about to begin, and I wanted to stand up, but Iron Fist told me to stay right where I was because he'd arranged for me to be let out of the next class, and that's when I really got scared because he'd never done that before with anyone, and I must have gone pale because right away Iron Fist asked, "Whatsa matter, why do you look like you're about to shit your pants?" and I said, "It's nothing at all," but Iron Fist just smiled and said, well, my face was pretty white, even though it really wasn't necessary to be scared of him because he'd never bothered anyone, and he didn't want to do me any harm, he just wanted to ask me for a little favor, but if I talked about this to anyone at all, I really would have something to be scared of because I wouldn't survive that, the same thing would end up happening to me as happened to my dad, and then I almost spoke up, I wanted to say that it's not true, my dad hadn't died, he was still alive, because if he did die, I'd know about that, but I didn't say anything after all, and then Iron Fist said that Horáciú, the boy who took my place on the Homeland Defense team, had been hospitalized on account of falling down the stairs and breaking his nose, and the city finals were being held today, and he needed someone to put in Horáciú's place, someone he could trust, and so he thought of me, but he didn't say that this was because I was the best shot in school, no, he said it was because I looked the most like Horáciú and we were going to the competition at School No. 16 just as if I were Horáciú, but he'd have me know again that I wasn't to speak about this to anyone, and he didn't ask if I wanted to do it or was willing to do
it, no, instead he said it as if he was certain that this was how it would be because I had to do what he wanted, and he said that the city finals had already been held in cross-country, the 3,000-yard obstacle course, map reading, politics, and military history, the only thing left was shooting, and although we'd done pretty well in other areas, the competition in shooting was really stiff this year, we now had only a theoretical possibility, a mathematical one, he said, of getting through to the next round, and to do that I had to shoot at least 117 points out of 120, but even then, no more than two shooters on other teams could shoot better than me, true, with those cheap Czechoslovak air rifles this was hopeless anyway, especially since we had to save on ammunition, and everyone got no more than three practice shots, but still, there was a mathematical possibility, and then I said, "That means that if I shoot a perfect score, 120 points, the team will definitely get to the next round," and Iron Fist nodded, and again he blew the cigarette smoke at me, and he said, "Oh sure, that's all I need, for you to shoot a perfect score, how could you even think such a stupid thing," and he got really, really nervous, his mustache was quivering, I saw, and he was taking only little puffs on his cigarette, but I said didn't he think I could do it, because if not, he sure didn't remember how well I used to shoot, because I do know how to shoot, I do, I know how to feel the gun, how to become one with the bullet the moment I pull the trigger, I know how sharpshooters think because my dad taught me that, and I told Iron Fist that if he didn't believe it, he should go ahead and take me to that competition, I'd show him, I'd show him where those holes would be once I was done with the target because if I wanted, I sure could shoot 120 points if necessary, or even 130, because my hands had what it takes to switch one of the practice pellets for the tip of a ballpoint pen since if you need to, you can shoot with that too, yes, that's how I'd get my hands on an extra pellet,
and
then I could shoot even 130 points if I wanted because no one would notice that I'd taken not twelve shots but thirteen. And as I said all this, all of a sudden I got such a big slap that I almost fell off the chair, Iron Fist hit me so suddenly that his cigarette dropped right out from between his fingers and I had to grab hold of the back of the chair from the side, and the cigarette fell to the rug, I saw, where it was still giving off smoke, and I felt dizzy, that's how big a slap I got, but luckily my mouth just happened to be open when he hit me because I was still in the middle of a sentence, and so I didn't bite my tongue and nothing happened to my teeth, and then Iron Fist said I should be ashamed of myself for daring to talk to him in such a tone of voice, it was best if I didn't forget that we weren't born the same day, and he must have noticed that while he was talking I never once took my eyes off that cigarette smoldering there on the rug because he suddenly said he wanted his cigarette back, so I crouched down nice and easy and picked it up, and as I started putting the cigarette back in Iron Fist's hand I thought I should press the burning end right into his mouth, he was such a beast that he deserved it, and I knew he was about to make me apologize, but I decided not to if I could help it, not if I didn't need to, I would not apologize, and then Iron Fist snatched the cigarette from me and stuck it back in his mouth, and he took a big drag, except he didn't blow the smoke on me like he had at first but into the air. Then when he did speak again, he told me to get it through my head that we had to lose the competition because our school's team must not go on to the next round, and if one thing was for sure, it was that I mustn't say this to anyone, I shouldn't even know about this, and by telling me he'd put his head through the noose, and as he said this he poked at his neck with the hand that was holding the cigarette, almost getting ash all over himself, and then he said, but that didn't matter because now the noose was around my neck too, and I didn't need to know any more about this anyway, and he told me to get it through my head that no way should I shoot more than seventy points, for if I did so I'd put my school's future at risk because at the city finals it was School No. 3 that had to get through to the next round, and not our team, so I should promise to do as he told me, that I'd shoot sixty points, or no more than seventy-five, and that was it.

While he was talking I kept looking into his eyes, but after a while he stopped looking at me, and my eyes also drifted away, back to those plastic models again, the ones there behind the glass. Two thick tubes stuck out of the top of the heart, one of them was painted blue and the other was painted red, and when Iron Fist got all quiet I looked at him again, straight into his eyes, and he asked me to promise, but right this instant, because we really did need to get going right away or else we'd be late for the competition. And then with one hand I grabbed the back of the chair, and I said, "No, I won't promise, no way, that wasn't what my dad taught me, sports are supposed to be fair, there's no room for cheating in sports, everyone who participates starts with an equal shot, it's only about how every single person performs," and I said I didn't care, he could go ahead and take me to the competition, but I was going to shoot as well as I could all the same, I'd give it my all, and while I was talking I got really scared from hearing my own voice, it was almost like it wasn't even me talking, and then my hand started really hurting from gripping the back of the chair so hard, and I knew I'd get slapped around in no time, I tried relaxing my mouth, but I was gritting my teeth so much that the pain shot right up into my temples, and I knew that this was it, that Iron Fist would beat my brains out, but not even then could I keep my mouth shut, no, try as I did to swallow my words, not even then could I stop talking. But Iron Fist didn't hit me, instead he just stubbed out his cigarette and put one of his index fingers in front of his mouth and hissed
shhh,
but that wasn't what made me shut up, it was when I saw him put his other hand in his pocket, because that meant he was about to pull out his brass knuckles, and that would be the end of me, I'd be lucky if I only ended up in the hospital, and in the meantime Iron Fist pulled his hand out, and he didn't have brass knuckles on it, instead he was holding something in his hand, I couldn't tell what it was, and then he held his fist right in front of me, he was wearing a really wide gold ring, I saw my own face reflected in it, and then he asked if I could guess what he had in his hand, but by then I was so scared that even if I figured it out, not even then would I have dared to say a word, that's how terrified I was, and so I only shook my head. Meanwhile I looked again at the heart behind the glass, and for some reason it occurred to me that cold blood flows from the heart through the blue tube and that hot blood flows through the red tube, but when I thought of that, I knew right away it was dumb.

And then Iron Fist said, fine, he could tell that I was giving up, I shouldn't rack my brains anymore because I'd get muscle fatigue doing that, and he opened his hand, and I saw right away what was on his palm, it was the valve of his motorcycle wheel, yes, that's what he was holding right there under my nose, and as soon as I saw it, I felt myself turn pale, I felt my body filling up with ice-cold blood, so cold that my skin would turn blue, and I felt almost as if my heart was about to stop altogether, that's how scared I was, and then Iron Fist said he knew everything about this little prank of ours, Feri had told him everything, that's right, Feri had more brains than I did, the day after our prank Feri realized it would be best to go ahead and fess up completely, because then maybe he could get out of this in one piece, yes, Feri was smart enough to realize that if Iron Fist figured out for himself who was responsible for his having to push his motorcycle up the hill he lived on, whoever it was would be a goner for sure, and then I thought of Feri, so that was why Feri had looked white as a ghost, and while Iron Fist went on talking, the whole time he held the valve right under my nose, and as his hand moved I could see that little ball moving in the valve, it was almost as big as an air-gun pellet, and then Iron Fist put the valve back in his pocket and turned his back to me as if he was looking out a window, and he stood there just like that as he said, "You know what you did, don't you. That wasn't just some school-kid prank, it was an act of sabotage, sabotage against the state." And he said that if he wanted he could not only kick me out of school but also see that I wound up in reform school, and the only reason I wouldn't end up in prison was because I was still under fifteen, "But don't you worry," he said, my mother was older, so I could rest assured that she'd wind up in a real prison and I'd never see her ever again, and then I thought I was about to cry, but I didn't want to cry if I could help it, so instead I only said, really quietly, "All right, I'll do it, I'll shoot as many points as you say, if need be, sixty, and if need be, forty, just like you want," and then I stood up and said we should go, that we should get it over with, and Iron Fist slapped me on the back and said, "Now that's talking," and then we left the science supply room and went all the way down the hall and down the stairs, and we went out the teachers' entrance, and the student monitor clicked his heels and saluted as he opened the door, but Iron Fist didn't return the gesture, and even I just barely raised my palm to my temple.