The Final Circle of Paradise

She hesitated, examining me. Apparently she had no intention of coming in, but was just saying hello, in passing.

"Come in, come in," said I. "I have nothing to do."

She entered with a light dancing gait, and putting her arms akimbo, stood in front of me. She had a short turned-up nose and a disheveled boyish hairdo. The hair was red, the shorts crimson, and the blouse a bright yolk yellow. A colorful woman and quite attractive. She must have been about twenty-five.

"You wait – right?"

Her eyes were unnaturally bright and she smelled of wine, tobacco, and perfume.

She collapsed on the hassock and flung her legs up on the telephone table.

"Throw a cigarette to a working girl," she said. "It's five hours since I had one."

"I don't smoke. Shall I ring for some?"

"Good Lord, another sad sack! Never mind the phone… or that dame will show up again. Rummage around in the ashtray and find me a good long butt."

The ashtray did have a lot of long butts.

"They all have lipstick on them," said I.

"That's all right; it's my lipstick. What's your name?"

"Ivan."

She snapped a lighter and lit up.

"And mine is Ilina. Are you a foreigner, too? All you foreigners seem so wide. What are you doing here?"'

"Waiting for Rimeyer."

"I don't mean that! What brought you here, are you escaping from your wife?"

"I am not married," I said quietly. "I came to write a book."

"A book? Some friends this Rimeyer has. He came to write a book. Sex Problems of Impotent Sportsmen. How's your situation with the sex problem?"

"It is not a problem to me," I said mildly. "And how about you?"

She lowered her legs from the table.

"That's a no-no. Take it slow. This isn't Paris, you know. All in good time. Anyway, you should have your locks cut – sitting there like a perch."

"Like a who?" I was very patient as I had another forty-five minutes to wait.

"Like a perch. You know the type." She made vague motions around her ears.

"I don't know about that," I said. "I don't know anything yet as I have just arrived. Tell me about it, it sounds interesting."

"Oh no! Not I! We don't chatter. Our bit is a small one – serve, clean up, flash your teeth, and keep quiet. Professional secret. Have you heard of such an animal?"

"I've heard," I said. "But who's 'we' – an association of doctors?

For some reason, she thought this was hilarious.

"Doctors! Imagine that." She laughed. "Well, wise guy, you're all right – quite a tongue. We have one in the once like you. One word, and we're all rolling in the aisles.

Whenever we cater to the Fishers, he always gets the job, they like a good laugh."

"Who doesn't?" said I.

"Well, you are wrong. The Intels, for instance, chased him out. 'Take the fool away,' they said. Or also recently those pregnant males."

"Who?"'

"The sad ones. Well, I can see you don't understand a thing. Where in heaven's name did you come from?"

"From Vienna."

"So – don't you have the sad ones in Vienna?"

"You couldn't imagine what we don't have in Vienna."

"Could be you don't even have irregular meetings?"

"No, we don't have them. All our meetings are regular, like a bus schedule."

She was having a good time.

"Perhaps you don't have waitresses either?"

"Waitresses we do have, and you can find some excellent examples. Are you a waitress then?"

She jumped up abruptly.

"That won't do at all," she cried. "I've had enough sad ones for today. Now you're going to have a loving cup with me like a good fellow…" She began to search furiously among the bottles by the window. "Damn him, they're all empty! Could be you're a teetotaler? Aha, here's a little vermouth. You drink that, or shall we order whiskey?"

"Let's begin with the vermouth," said I.

She banged the bottle on the table and took two glasses from the window sill.

"Have to wash them. Hold on a minute, everything's full of garbage." She went into the bathroom and continued to speak from there. "If you turned out to be a teetotaler on top of everything else. I don't know what I would do with you… What a pigsty he's got in his bathroom – I love it! Where are you staying? Here too?"

"No, in town," I replied. "On Second Waterway."

She came back with the glasses.

"Straight or with water?"

"Straight, I guess."

"All foreigners take it straight. But we have it with water for some reason." She sat on my armchair and put her arms around my shoulders. We drank and kissed without any feeling.

Her lips were heavily lipsticked, and her eyelids were heavy from lack of sleep and fatigue. She put down her glass, searched out another butt in the ashtray, and returned to the hassock.

"Where is that Rimeyer?" she said. "After all, how long can you wait for him? Have you known him a long time?"

"No, not very."

"I think maybe he is a louse," she said with sudden ire. "He's dug everything out of me, and now he plays hard to get. He doesn't open his door, the animal, and you can't get through to him by phone. Say, he wouldn't be a spy, would he?"

"What do you mean, a spy?"