Blooms of Darkness

46

The threat hangs over everything and is palpable at every meal. Supplies remain for only two more days; after that, everyone will be on her own. The house will be closed. It’s actually better for it to be closed. The Russians are merciless. Whoever collaborated with the Germans will be hanged in the city square. That threat, which Victoria repeats with a trembling voice, makes no impression on the women, who are immersed in the freedom that has been given to them. “God in heaven,” they say, “who took care of us until now, will keep on taking care of us.”

“That was His care?”

“You mustn’t be ungrateful. We didn’t go hungry, and we didn’t tremble with cold.”

“True, we were just trampled.”

Every word and every sentence receives a response. There are differences of opinion, but there are no bitter quarrels. Hugo sits and observes them: each face has its own expression. The women don’t look gloomy or depressed. They are taking advantage of the respite that was granted to them. It’s common for them to speak in the third person, and in that way they distance themselves a little from their lives.

“I hate myself,” he often hears.

“Go to a convent, and there you’ll be freed of yourself.”

“That isn’t as bad an idea as I used to think.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you as an ascetic.”

When Hugo is alone in the closet their faces come back to him, and he sees them one by one. Sometimes it seems to him that he has known the women for years, and only now have they removed the veil from their faces.

Suddenly Hugo is sorry that his mother doesn’t understand him, and that he has to conceal these powerful experiences from her. In contrast to her, Uncle Sigmund, drunk and merry, repeats to the family, “Don’t worry about Hugo. He’s getting an excellent lesson. You’re tested on algebra and trigonometry, and you forget it. It’s a good thing he saw life in its nakedness while he was still young. Denials and words that reveal less than they conceal never helped anyone. The time has come to stop deceiving ourselves and our fellows.”

The next day Hugo enters the hall, and what does he see? The women are down on their knees, and facing them, on a chair, is an icon of Jesus. Victoria is standing next to the kneeling women. She is reading, and they are repeating after her, “Good Jesus, forgive us all our sins. Because of our many sins and our pollution, we didn’t see You. You are merciful and full of loving-kindness. Don’t forget your girls and don’t leave them to drown in a slough of sin. Save them with Your grace.”

After a pause, Victoria calls out, “Get up, girls, and stand on your feet. From now on you are joined to our Lord Jesus. Turn away from evil and do good, and don’t forget even for a moment that we are dust and ashes. Only by virtue of the soul, which is part of God above, do we exist. From now on, no more dealings of the flesh, but only the kingdom of heaven.”

Victoria’s face is pale, but fire flares in her eyes. It’s obvious that the words are not hers, and that someone else is speaking from within her. The women understand that there’s no need to comment or disagree, but just to accept the simple meaning of what she said.

Mariana, who didn’t take part in the ceremony, is stunned. What happened in the hall wasn’t like prayer. It was a mighty movement of the soul. Every night they would drink and sing folk songs and church songs. Victoria would admonish them that heavy drinking is a sin, and that they must overcome this temptation, but her efforts are in vain.

Meanwhile, one of the women attacks Kitty. Kitty is stunned, and the woman beats her even harder, screaming, “You aren’t allowed to be here. You don’t belong here. You’re like a thorn in our flesh.” Kitty doesn’t open her mouth, not even when the blood flows down her face.

Some time passes before the women grasp the horror of what has happened, and when they do, the poor girl is lying on the floor unconscious. For a long time they try to revive her. At last Kitty opens her eyes and asks, “What happened?” The terrified women, who are kneeling over her, answer together. “Nothing happened, thank God, nothing.” Everybody sighs in relief.