Translated Accounts (12 page)

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Authors: James Kelman

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Now the individual spoke again. I recognised him. He spoke to all. On the other hand, he said, his voice rasping, and this you must know.

But he did not finish this, instead he looked around the room, the resignation strongly there in him. Others had entered. I knew the shift in atmosphere. When the elderly man made his move he
did so methodically and I thought then of his grip as an old vice, rust settled on the underside, seeming always a fraction too late. Yet such a vice need not grip at the correct point of impact.
But once settled scarcely could it be prised apart. He patted my shoulder now, murmuring something, that my part had ended.

The righthand man was not in the room. Nor the third, this other who had spoken.

I would say this, that none had allowed a proper opportunity. I had not received it. Thus I would say I was not treated fairly. I had closed my eyes. I hoped that the younger ones would see this
and know that I could not enter into this world if not by selection which had taken place as one effect of this demonstration. If I am to have an opinion, I so could not be alive. Of course the
elderly man would know, would not know, what of that.

12
“I do not go to his country”

I know who watched for us, myself herself. He carried stories, he was a story teller, fabulous fairy tales for news agencies, crossing this world the next world and all other
worlds of this and outside universes. Yes. He sought stories, sought that I might advise him. What did he want from myself was not mysterious. He might turn tables on me, what of “campaigning
formations”, so he thought. What he did think I do not care and did not, also that he thought I was a fool. He called me friend, he followed us, spoke also to my companion in quiet places, a
fool, thinking quiet places were secret, calling friends, friends, thinking we are so foolish. You are unlike these others, he said.

Unlike these others, what do you say?

Friend, he said, and there one could kill him, yes, how is your throat today, but I would not kill such a one, nothing. If he is dead then he is, dead, if his throat was sliced, why not pistol,
who has energy, it may be said, of course, yes. He has disappeared. All people may disappear, as also my wife, as also my companion, as also other family and friends. Who does not disappear. This
one day he came to our section, mister teller of fabulous fairy tales and myself and my companion lay under the covering. I said to him, What is it you seek from us?

What language could he know. There is a language shared, man to man, with woman, why he did not leave, and watched us, myself, what did he think, why he was there watching us. He knows, man
knows. He was there. Thinking I so am foolish we are so foolish. Why? I do not go to his country.

13
“if I think nothing”

Always there was danger. I then thought so, how she was returning to her own place, I knew these risks, what routes, if securitys should be there. It was not practical, and if
the curfew was there. Safety only is for strangers, colleagues also watch for them. Who does not know it. From our first meeting we became intimate. Other nights following, some she would visit,
some not so, or again she visited but did not stay. I did not visit her place, only she to mine. I was not suspicious. If she visited one other man, I do not know. It is said she visited one. I do
not think so. If it was possible, yes, she might go to him. If she had done I was not affected. How that might be, men and men, jealousy for what reasons. I had been with her and if it was not to
continue then it would not and what was it that I might accomplish, if to change her will. This woman was strong, stronger. I thought that she was. Good fortune was to myself having her and I was
grateful, certainly.

I said these were dangerous times then in that town and in shadows such risks, all colleagues took them, so also that night of her disappearance when many authoritys and guests to our country
were there, a cultural evening, an event of importance for our “campaigning formation”. Social gatherings, all such events, these may be duties. Authoritys and foreign people, media
people also, these with us, photographic, that these might meet one another and see things, other sides of our lives, our people. This concert also was for higher colleagues who would seek support,
domestic, foreign. All things were needed, tools, material goods and medicines of course, hardware software, all of everything anything, finances.

We were in escort team, my companion driving, I by her side, protector, weaponry. We came by certain routes in one convoy and so would return by certain routes, twelve or fourteen vehicles, up
down up down along along along, along, up, down down round, round circles, all due care. We were sixth or seventh vehicle. We two had brought three persons and would return these afterwards to
their houses, one a guest to our country. Upon arrival they entered the theatre, colleagues were there, securing for entries-exit, all safety, safely. We two did not enter the building but parked
the vehicle then, bringing it to the parking area, returning afterwards by foot. Colleagues also patrolled there. One street beyond and parallel were military and security. We knew it they knew it
all knew it, standing off from us, we from them, later would be curfew time.

So, we did not enter the theatre building with the others, but after the beginning. It was excitement. I have said this. It is nothing, I always was so, lusting, what I may say, I can say it,
without power, I was her lover. If I was hers, if I was. We returned by foot not to there but behind so to the alley, and into shadows, a doorway, we were together. Here was the smell of burnt
burning things, food, chicken, lamb, onion, we had not eaten, these smells were good, I remember, was hungry. If she was excited by these adventures, I do not think so, not so much, yet these were
risks and greater risks. Yes I pulled her to myself, she pulled me to herself. We were lovers. We were. What I am to say, I did not abuse her, what to say I can say it, herself myself, I opened her
clothing. What to say I touched her, yes, yes touching her, gripping her. Yes, gently, open, her breaths, catch in breaths, her breathing, her clothing. If power was with ourselves, I do not think
so. Later we were into the seats for us in the theatre. Other colleagues then saw us so, entering later.

All lights on stage and dancers were there. Or if it was music, perhaps, in the traditional style, I think so, musicians were there, also dancers. Dancers with musicians. Yes. People enjoyed it,
I think that they did, authoritys, foreign guests. If it was boring. Older people may enjoy these evenings. My companion now with me, my lover, I can say it, and if one artiste was on stage,
musician, poet, dancer, anyone, what I heard only her, saw only her, smelled only her, whispering into her ear, her skin, hair, her slender fingers, seeing how smaller was her hand from mine, yet
this woman who was so much strong, stronger, yet if her body seemed to mine lacking in physical powers what strength, where did it come from, how women may have it, such marvels yet allowing her
hand to rest within mine, trusting in that. We two then had been for weeks together, three, four. If we would remain together, who could be foolish, so thinking, for how long. Always. What always
may be. Her own partner thought so, he now was dead. She did not know for certain, but supposed it. She took my hand again into her own, settling mine onto her lap and warmth there, we might sit,
her hand now onto my lap, if we were bolder, it was darkness, and the change also came in her and her breathing, and that sound was beautiful to myself and then that I saw the one watching us. It
was then. I saw him. Farther there to one side. Staring, yes, seeing my companion. My arm now I put round her shoulders. I thought if he was known to myself, was a familiarity there about him. I
thought so there might be, I whispering to her, if she saw him, did she know him. I saw that she had seen this man. He was there to herself, she knew so. One moment then and she looked and he
turned from us. I wondered was it absently done. If he was a security. She did not think so in this place where all were trustworthy, were so to be, but also I knew and so said it to her that there
is no place where all are trustworthy, such a place, one other planet from here, where, no place. We sat then in silence, I did not look again to this man. It was in my belly then it was anger. If
also it was fear, why not, if there was, I think so, what might it have been.

Now was an interval and we were walking at the entrance hallway and lobby where tea or coffee, drinks, food also, there was bread, cheese, cold meats, salad. We were hungry, all colleagues. If
we might eat, if others had finished. We were standing back from the authoritys and guests. Her hand was into mine. Now colleagues could move to there and she whispered to me she did not want to,
want not to eat. Why not, could I eat her portions! She would not eat with these people. She said it to me, had said it one earlier time also, authoritys and foreign guests, saying to me, Do not
let them see us eat, they shall not see me eat.

What is wrong, we are hungry, we can eat?

No, I shall not show them.

I did as she, so, a hole into my belly. There were notices on the wall, events were forthcoming, news information, we read these. Now it happened that I saw that fellow again, yes, watching us.
I could not believe this, he would be daring as this, challenging. He was on the other side where food was, having a cup in one hand, sipping tea or coffee. My companion did not see him. I took her
arm, as natural. I whispered to her. I do not know, saying to her, but personal words, personal. There was a feeling in myself, strongly emotional. I wanted to hold her. Sensing something. I was. I
do not know. But strongly in myself. Stronger. If a knowledge of loss. Loss to come. I do not know. We have losses always, always, but some can live, why not we two, that we might live, we two, why
not, why others and not so for ourselves, if we loved one another. I whispered to her perhaps these words, other words. Personal words. I cannot remember. I cannot remember but I did so. But in my
belly, something, twisting. She grasped my hand, tightening onto my wrist, now touched my face and left me. Left me, yes. I saw where, walking to the room for women, bathroom. And the one who was
watching also had gone. What I am to say. He had. I looked but did not see him. If he had followed my companion, yes, I thought so. What else, what one may think. Other colleagues were there, one
came to me, gave a cigarette and matches, saying two foreign guests were in his vehicle and would be to their house later, also other colleagues, there would be wine, brandy, perhaps, he hoped so,
if we were to come to there afterwards, my companion and myself, they would welcome us. We spoke further, one minute. My companion returned. Our colleague was smiling to her, touching her arm.
Elbow, yes, he touched her elbow. I thought why he had done so, if there had been a need. Why he had touched her. If such behaviour was normal. I looked to his face, only smiling to her. And the
bell ringing, the interval ended. My companion wished to return to our seats. I did not, wishing only to return. To my section. I could have gone then from this cultural evening. Yes, what is to
say. It was not anger, I was not angry. If so, yes, I would say it. But troubling to me, by these events, troubled, yes, I was so, nor comfortable, these people being there. I wanted to be away, we
two. I said it to her, we might walk outside. No, she would not. But for one moment, I had a cigarette, we could smoke it there. No. She said there was one performance to come she must see, more
dancers, musicians, but young people, many related to friends. So we returned to our seats.

I could not enjoy anything, not of this performance, barely could I watch it. Yes it is good to see children, we see their faces and there is brightness and future hopes but these older ones and
adults also, no, I could not enjoy them, how it may be possible so to do, if it is amateurish, amateurish, and boring, more dull. It was. I thought it. What is to say further, trivial banality, if
it is traditional, and only, why, what century is this, do we look forward, backward, to our grandparents, grandparents of grandparents, do we have monkey dances. Foreign guests also have music,
dance, laughter, as we do, yes, they also as we have ours, but there are many towns, many communities, traditional yes, also modern, younger people with music, excitement of this, loud poetry also,
shouting and with all passion, yes for our people, we too, having many many things as these foreign people in our many towns these are there and here were in one town only town, say township, where
local colleagues may not know other things, do not see other things, so cannot be judges. A band now entered and a troupe to follow, dancing on stage, grandfathers. I could not sit there. This was
not entertainment, I whispered to her, thinking if we should go soon we might wait outside, smoke one cigarette, if not I should scream out, I am in agony, whispering this to her.

She did not answer me. I saw her eyes, beautiful, how the beauty of women’s eyes, beautiful and not as men, women’s eyes are not, men’s eyes differing. Now what she said to me
that he was there, this man was there again watching her, always, she saw his face. Yet when I looked I did not see him, neither elsewhere. I said, He is not there.

Yes.

Where? I cannot see him.

He is watching.

I cannot see him.

He is there.

Do you know him?

He is watching.

Who is he, this man, who is he?

Her teeth biting onto her lip. Her head, straightened, shoulders, body stiffly held, her attention as to the performance of the children. This was to myself, rigidly holding herself, as against
me, it was, and I put my hand to her arm but could not touch her, would say something to her but did not, waiting only until the performance might end, the applause of people, but she soon turned
to me, whispering, What is wrong with you? If you are jealous, stupidity. It is do you know him, you are my protector, you are, why you are with myself. It is to myself this man looks, it is my
safety. Do you know him, have you seen him, where he is from, what he is, colleague, I do not think so, what suspect, what is he, security, he is military, where he is from, does he know my
husband, what is he wanting from me, what is it, why you do not protect me, instead so foolishly asking questions of myself, do not ask them but him, go to him, where is he, find him. We are
protectors, watching one to another. Now I may protect myself. If I can, and I can, if it is only myself. Who is he. I cannot speak to you, you are an attacker, not protector.

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