Roadside Picnic

He went into the main entrance and slowly up the unswept stairs. It was quiet and many of the doors leading from the landings were ajar or wide open. It smelled damp and dusty in the apartments. He stopped before Redrick's door, smoothed his hair, sighed deeply, and rang the bell. It was still behind the door for a while, then the floor creaked, the lock turned, and the door opened quietly. He hadn't heard the footsteps.

Monkey, Schuhart's daughter, stood in the doorway. A bright light fell from the foyer onto the landing, and at first Noonan could only see the girl's dark silhouette. He thought how much she had grown in the last few months. Then she stepped back into the foyer and he saw her face. His throat went dry for a second.

"Hello, Maria,” he said, trying to be as gentle as possible. “How are you, Monkey?"

She did not reply. Silently and soundlessly she backed away from the door into the living room, looking at him from under her eyebrows. It looked as though she did not recognize him. To tell the truth, he couldn't recognize her either. It's the Zone, he thought. Damn.

"Who's there?” Guta asked, looking out of the kitchen. “God, it's Dick! Where did you disappear to? You know, Redrick is back!"

She hurried over to him drying her hands with the towel slung over her shoulder. Still as beautiful, energetic, strong, but she looked strained somehow: her face was thinner, and her eyes looked … feverish, perhaps?

He kissed her cheek, gave her his raincoat and hat.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just couldn't get away to come over. Is he in?"

"He's in,” Guta said. “There's somebody with him. He should be leaving soon, they've been talking a long time. Go on, Dick."

He took several steps down the hall and stopped in the door to the living room. An old man was sitting at the table. A moulage. Motionless and listing slightly. The pink light from the lampshade fell on his broad dark face, his sunken, toothless mouth, and his still, lusterless eyes. And Noonan smelled it immediately. He knew that it was just his imagination, that the odor lasted only the first few days and then disappeared completely, but Richard Noonan smelled it with his memory—the fetid heavy smell of turned-up earth.

"We could go to the kitchen,” Guta said quickly. “I'm cooking there and we could chat."

"Yes, of course!” he said cheerily. “It's been such a long time! You haven't forgotten that I like a drink before dinner, I hope?"

They went to the kitchen. Guta opened the refrigerator and Noonan sat at the table and looked around. As usual, it was clean and shiny and steam was rising from the pots and pans on the stove. The oven was new, semiautomatic. That meant they had money.

"Well, how is he?” Noonan asked.

"The same. He lost weight in prison, but I'm fattening him up."

"His hair still red?"

"You bet!"

"Hot-tempered?"

"What else! He'll be that way to the grave."

Guta gave him a Bloody Mary. The clear layer of Russian vodka seemed to float on the layer of tomato juice.

"Too much?"

"Just right.” Noonan poured the drink down. He realized that that was his first real drink all day. “Now that's better."

"Is everything all right with you?” Guta asked. “Why haven't you dropped by for such a long time?"

"Damn business. Every week I intended to come over or at least call, but first I had to go to Rexopolis, then there was a big to-do, and then I heard that Redrick was back and I thought I'd let you two have some time to yourselves. I'm really hassled, Guta. Sometimes I ask myself, what the hell are we all running around for, anyway? To make money? But what the hell do we need money if all we do is run around making it?"

Guta clattered the pot covers, took a pack of cigarettes from the shelf, and sat at the table across from Noonan. Her eyes were lowered. Noonan pulled out his lighter and lit her cigarette. And again, for the second time in his life, he saw her hands trembling, like the time when Redrick had just been sentenced and Noonan came over to give her some money—she was in a lot of trouble at first with no money at all, and no one in the building would lend her any. Then there was suddenly money in the house, and quite a bit of it, judging by everything, and Noonan had a good guess as to its source, but he continued coming over, bringing Monkey candy and toys, spending whole evenings over coffee with Guta, planning a new, happy life for Redrick. And then, having heard her stories, he would go to the neighbors and try to reason with them, explaining, coaxing, and finally, at the end of his patience, threatening them: “You know Red will be coming back, and he'll break you all in half.” But nothing helped.

"How's your girlfriend?” Guta asked.

"What girlfriend?"

"The one you came over with that time, the blonde."

"That's no girlfriend! That was my secretary. She got married and quit."

"You ought to get married, Dick. You want me to find a girl for you?"