Farewell Waltz

inside. The spa was a small place, and everyone knew him. He asked the doorkeeper if he had seen Ruzena. The doorkeeper nodded and said that she had gone up in the elevator. Since the elevator only stopped at the fourth floor and all the lower floors were reached by stairs, Frantisek could narrow his suspicions to the two corridors on the top floor. In one were offices, in the other was the gynecology clinic. He tried the former first (it was deserted) and then entered the latter, with the unpleasant feeling that men were not allowed here. He saw a nurse he knew by sight. He asked her about Ruzena. She pointed to a door at the end of the corridor. The door was open, and some women and men stood waiting at the threshold. Frantisek went in and saw more women sitting, but neither Ruzena nor the trumpeter was there.
“Did anybody see a young woman, a blonde?”
A woman pointed to the office door: “They’re inside.”
Frantisek looked up: MAMA, WHY DON’T YOU WANT ME? And on the other posters he saw the photographs of newborns and little boys urinating. He began to understand what was going on.
11
There was a long table in the room. Klima sat beside Ruzena, and facing them Dr. Skreta sat enthroned, flanked by two ample ladies.
Dr. Skreta lifted his eyes to the applicants and shook his head with disgust: “It makes me sick even to look at you. Do you know how much trouble we go to here to restore fertility to unfortunate women who can’t have children? And then healthy, well-built young people like you of their own accord want to get rid of the most precious gift life can offer us. I warn you categorically that this committee is not here to encourage abortions but to regulate them.”
The two women emitted grunts of approval, and Dr. Skreta went on giving his moral lesson for the benefit of the two applicants. Klima’s heart was pounding. He guessed that the doctor’s words were not addressed to him but to the two judges, who with all the strength of their maternal bellies hated young women who refused to give birth, yet he feared that Ruzena might allow herself to be swayed by this speech. Had she not told him a few minutes earlier that she still didn’t know what she was going to do?
“What are you living for?” Dr. Skreta resumed. “Life without children is like a tree without leaves. If I had the power I would prohibit abortion. Aren’t you distressed by the thought that our population is going down each year? Here in this country where mothers and children are better protected than anywhere else in the world! In this country where no one has to fear for his future?”
The two women once again emitted grunts of approval, and Dr. Skreta went on: “The comrade is married and afraid of assuming all the consequences of an irresponsible sexual relationship. But you should have thought of that before, comrade!”
Dr. Skreta paused, and then he addressed Klima once more: “You have no children. Are you really unable to get a divorce for the sake of this fetus’s future?”
“It’s impossible,” said Klima.
“I know,” said Dr. Skreta with a sigh. “I’ve received a psychiatric report saying that Mrs. Klima suffers from suicidal tendencies. The birth of this child would endanger her life and destroy her home, and Nurse Ruzena would be a single mother. What can we do?” he said with another sigh, and then pushed the form toward one and then the other of the two women, each one sighing too as she signed her name in the proper space.
“Be here Monday morning at eight o’clock for the operation,” Dr. Skreta said to Ruzena, and he motioned that she could leave.
“But you stay here!” one of the heavy women said to Klima. Ruzena left and the woman went on: “Terminating a pregnancy is not as harmless an operation as you think. It involves much bleeding. By your irresponsibility you will make the comrade lose blood, and it’s only fair that you give your own.” She pushed a form at Klima and told him: “Sign here.”
Filled with confusion, Klima signed obediently.
“It’s an application for membership in the Voluntary Association of Blood Donors. Go next door and the nurse will take your blood right away.”
12
Ruzena walked through the waiting room with lowered eyes and didn’t see Frantisek until he spoke to her in the corridor.
“Where have you just been?”
She was frightened by his furious expression and walked faster.
“I’m asking you where you’ve just been.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I know where you’ve just been.”
“Then don’t ask me.”
They went down the stairs, Ruzena in a rush to escape Frantisek and the conversation.
“You’ve been to the Abortion Committee,” Frantisek said.
Ruzena remained silent. They left the building.
“You’ve been to the Abortion Committee. I know it. And you want to have an abortion.”
“I’ll do what I want.”
“You’re not going to do what you want. It’s my business too.”
Ruzena was walking still faster, nearly running. Frantisek was running right behind her. When they arrived at the thermal building, she said: “I forbid you to follow me. I’m at work now. You don’t have the right to disturb me at my work.”
Frantisek was very excited: “I forbid you to give me orders!”
“You don’t have the right!”
“You’re the one who doesn’t have the right!”
Ruzena swept into the building, with Frantisek behind her.
13
Jakub was glad that it was all finished and that there was only one more thing to do: say goodbye to Skreta. From the thermal building he slowly headed across the park to Karl Marx House.
Coming toward him from a distance on the broad park path were about twenty nursery-school kids and their teacher. She had in her hand the end of a long red string, which the children held on to as they followed her single file. They walked along slowly, and the teacher pointed at the various trees and shrubs while