Liberation Movements

Peter
1968

In the tram, looking over the tired faces of his people, Peter knew that Captain Poborsky was right-he had lied about what had happened in that field, and lying was something he was adept at. He’d learned it at home, with his father. But he hadn’t lied when he said he would never leave Czechoslovakia.

He had followed his friends to the border out of a need to be with Ivana and knew that once they reached the border he would stop. Or he would cross but, after a few weeks or months, turn around again. He had grown up in this country, had known it all his life, and in this system he had studied music and built his modest world. To Peter, each system was as uncomfortable as the next; it only mattered which one you had become accustomed to.

He was back at the dormitory in a half hour. The corridor was as smoky as the cafe had been, with faces he recognized lining the walls. A few nodded, but most ignored him. They were part of a steady undertone of conversation that, before the Russians arrived, had been an overtone. At least that was something positive about the Russians’ appearance: It was quieter now.

When he opened the door to 305, a hand grabbed his shirt, pulled and threw him heavily on his cot. His head knocked against the wall. Josef stood over him, his dark features flushed. Behind Josef, Gustav from the medical school reclined on the other cot, watching calmly and scratching his beard.

“What the hell’s going on?” said Peter, sitting up.

Josef slammed the door shut. “Where were you, Peter?”

“I was in town, with Jan.”

“After that.”

“I came here.”

Josef stepped closer-he was very quick-and punched the side of Peter’s head. Ringing erupted in his ear.

Gustav, from the cot, said, “Don’t lie to us. We know you met an StB agent in the Obecni Dum.”

“The fucking Obecni Dum!” said Josef.

Gustav said, “Jan saw you.”

“Was I being followed?”

“I could kill you,” said Josef.

“What did you tell him?” asked Gustav.

“I didn’t tell him anything.”

Josef hit the side of his head again.

Peter raised a hand. “Cut that out, okay? I’m telling you I didn’t say a thing. I don’t know anything.”

“What did he want?” asked Gustav.

Peter flinched when Josef moved closer. “He wanted to scare me. He wanted names, of course. But I’m telling you, I didn’t give him any.”

“You were with him for a while,” said Josef.

“Well, you don’t just stand up and walk out when you’re dealing with these men. Do you?”

“I’d have strangled him.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” said Gustav. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes, scratched his beard again, then looked up when someone knocked at the door. “Yeah?”

Jan poked his head in. “Josef, can we-” He noticed Peter on the cot. “Josef, can I talk to you out here?”

Josef closed the door as he left, and Peter looked at Gustav. “You don’t think I betrayed anyone, do you?”

“I don’t know what to think.” He stifled a yawn. “But you can appreciate that we’ve got to be careful.”

“Of course.”

“Josef likes to jump to conclusions.”

“He’s never trusted me.”

Gustav lit a cigarette and offered one. Peter took a drag, closing his eyes. “So what’s on the agenda?”

“What agenda?”

“My agenda?”

“You’ll be ostracized, at least until we can assure ourselves you’re not…one of them.”

Peter crossed a leg over his knee. “At least I’ll have time to study.”

“What if the policeman comes back?”

“I can’t tell him what I don’t know.”

Josef returned, his face a deeper red than before. He moved slowly as he sat beside Gustav.

“Well?” said Gustav.

Josef blinked. “It seems Peter hasn’t been completely honest.”

“Oh?” said Gustav.

“Oh?” echoed Peter.

Josef spoke through his teeth. “Today’s list of casualties went up an hour ago. Guess what?”

“What?” asked Peter.

“Go ahead. Guess.”

“Don’t screw around,” said Gustav. “Tell us.”

“No,” said Josef. “I want this bastard to take a stab in the dark.”

Peter shrugged, because though he knew, it was best not to know, and so he cleared the knowledge from his head.

“Come on,” said Gustav.

Josef leaned forward and patted Peter’s cheek with an open hand, then gripped his ear. “Ivana and Toman are on the list. They were killed outside eske Bud jovice.”

“That’s horrible,” said Peter. He tried to pull his ear out of Josef’s grip but couldn’t.

“Remember his story?” said Josef. “He bravely led the Russians away from his friends, who he’d gotten into a tough spot.” He twisted Peter’s ear just a little, so it hurt. “They didn’t make it out of that field, did they?”

“I don’t know,” Peter began, then grunted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He killed them,” said Josef. “His stupidity killed them, and he won’t even admit it.”

Gustav straightened. “That’s what it sounds like.”

“They were alive,” said Peter. “I last saw them alive.”

Josef punched him in the eye. He fell back, his head hitting the wall again.

Gustav leaned his elbows on his knees. “What are we going to do with you?”

“We can’t believe anything he says,” said Josef.

“No. We can’t.” Gustav stood up. “Come on. We’ll talk to the others and take a vote.” Peter began to stand, but Gustav held up a finger. “Not you. You stay here. The door will be watched. You understand?”

Peter nodded.