The situation at the Vávra house was serious. Jarda sat silently frowning. He was at his wits’ end with Milada and wanted to make a move, because Hana was still waiting for him in the van and it wasn’t polite to leave her there. Jarda got up to leave – for the time being, there was nothing more to be done. In the hall he raised his hand and waved goodbye in resignation. He didn’t exactly have a clear conscience, but there was no other way of dealing with the situation. Milada came to see him to the door. She wasn’t going to ask him when he would come to their place for dinner. He had just been there and wasn’t about to come back.

“Jarda…” she said, clutching him by the sleeve. One last try before he left her to get into the van with that other, more attractive woman.

“Hm?”

“Couldn’t Áňa be at that pylon…?”

Jarda turned round. He could see from her desperate look that it was more of a plea than a question.

“What if she’s been going there too?” she said, helplessly wringing her hands. She was still wearing her jacket and hat.

“When we were coming back along the main road, there was a fire burning there,” said her brother-in-law, nodding in agreement. So he had seen it as well! She hadn’t imagined it. He had been thinking the same things!

“So do you want to go over there?”

“Yes,” she said imploringly.

And suddenly they were in a hurry again. Both their hearts were pounding. Both of them were glad that there was another possibility – something they hadn’t tried and yet which would make the most sense. Hana Strnadová, who had been dozing in the back of the van, squashed by the bed that still hadn’t been unloaded, woke up. Something was going on. They were off on another journey. All that time they had left her freezing in the van and suddenly there was a commotion, but no-one paid any attention to her, no-one explained anything to her. As if she were invisible.

“So you know where she is?” she asked in a tired voice, breaking the awkward silence.

“No,” replied Jarda. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t even look back at her. He was frowning, deep in thought.

“So where are we going this time? I can’t stand it in here any longer,” said Hana curtly. She’d had enough of these hysterical scenes and wanted to be taken home. She was even willing to stay in the house by herself – she was perfectly capable of looking after herself. The visit to the sawmill was probably off too, as it was nearly dark outside.

“Well, you’ll just have to,” said Milada through gritted teeth, almost to herself, you didn’t have to come with us. Jarda drove through the town and took the turn-off for Hradec. Anger surged up inside Hana.

“Where are we going now?”

That’s something you could never understand!

“Don’t worry, it’s not far,” he replied in a kindly voice. Thankfully. So he hadn’t forgotten that when he switched off the engine, the heating in the van went off too. Hardly anything could be seen out of the frozen side window, but it was certainly not very pleasant out there. Jarda drove round the marshes from the other side. He was wondering how far he could get. And which way. Milada was surprised by his choice of route, but then she realised how clever his decision had been. Now she thought she understood what he was up to. He would take the old, almost unused side road that ran alongside the neighbouring field and then he’d drive across the meadow as close as possible to the pylons. Hopefully the van wouldn’t get stuck. Milada scanned the landscape, but the window was steamed up and it was almost impossible to make anything out. How long could it have been since they had seen the fire in this area? An hour? Two? And if Áňa really was there, how had she managed to start it? Everything was either frozen or wet ― a little girl could never have managed it. It couldn’t have been her.

“That’s her!” said Jarda, pointing.

“Where?” Milada was glued to the windscreen.

“Someone’s walking over there, see? And that white stuff is smoke.”

And that other white stuff all over the ground is a strange kind of fog… realised Hana wearily. She had thought that when the van stopped, she would get out and stretch her stiff legs, but now she wasn’t sure she would dare to. She couldn’t explain it, but she was overcome with a strange anxiety. Suddenly she had to undo the seatbelt, because it was pressing against her chest and belly and she couldn’t breathe. She felt queasy. She was afraid and didn’t know what of. Why were they dragging her everywhere with them? She didn’t want to be here! She wasn’t used to situations like this. If Radka had known about this, she’d never have let her go to Řečovice.

“Let’s get out,” said Jarda as the front wheel lurched dangerously into a rut. He couldn’t drive any further – it might not be possible to get back again. And anyway the lights of their slowly approaching van were too conspicuous. Jarda switched off the engine and stepped out into the frost. Milada jumped out the other side and the two of them immediately headed left towards the adjacent ploughed field.

“It’s Áňa!” cried Milada, darting forward. Through the gloom of the approaching night she could see a slight figure in the distance. It had to be her! She was sitting by the smouldering fire, perhaps even lying down. She had nothing left to put on it, so she had to get as close as possible to the dissipating heat. Jarda broke into a run. So she still comes here in secret…and makes a fire beside the pylon that killed her dad all those years ago. Surprisingly, even Hana in her sullen mood was outside now too, though she kept her distance from all this. She had no intention of going across the field, and she was beginning to shiver with cold – the wind was strong in the open countryside.

“Áňa!” cried Milada, running across the field towards her. She tried to pick her feet up so as not to trip over the frozen clods of earth. Don’t call out to her – what if she runs away from us? thought Jarda.

Áňa, numb with cold and choked by the smoke, raised her head from the embers of the fire and saw in the distance her mother running by the road. And behind her, her uncle. Maybe their van was parked there too, but she couldn’t make that out properly. Fear stabbed at the heart of the crouching girl. She took fright and immediately got to her feet. She felt dizzy, but she collected herself. Her mother was fast and nothing would stop her. She had finally caught her and now she was going to punish her. For everything. She probably knew about it now. In fear, Áňa made a break for it. First she slowly backed away, but then she turned and fled. It was impossible to run very quickly on the ploughed field, and her cold body was slow to react to her head’s commands.

“Áňa, wait!” yelled Jarda. The girl realised things must be bad. She had never heard him shout like that before. Another reason to try and speed up. But where could she run to, where could she hide? Around her lay a vast landscape in the frosty grip of the oncoming night. The only thing nearby was the electricity pylon – she just had to reach out her hand… Áňa tripped over a frozen clod of earth and fell to the ground. A few centimetres more and her head would have hit one of the four concrete blocks that supported the pillars of the pylon. The girl’s outstretched hands broke her fall, but she grazed her palms on the icy clods and split her lip on a huge, hard clump.

“Áňa!” cried her mother. She had seen it happen. She was still some way away, but she had seen it. She wished it had been her own head that had taken the blow. Wait! But her legs moved clumsily in the ploughed field and there was no question of going any faster.

I won’t wait! I’ll run away!

“Áňa, what are you playing at!” Jarda.

“Leave me alone!” shrieked the girl. She scrambled towards the pylon on all fours. Now she was holding onto the nearest iron pole, leaning against it and looking up helplessly towards the top.

“Don’t climb up there! Damn it, stop!” Her uncle was really angry. And he was fast. So she had no choice but to go further up. She had nowhere else to run to. They had driven her to it. She spat out blood from her burst lip and clambered up to the first platform of the iron structure. Her palms were slippery with sweat and there was dirt under the skin of her grazed right hand which really stung.

“Don’t touch it, do you hear me!” called her mother desperately. But it was no use – the girl was nimble and she would always be a few seconds ahead. Jarda and Milada ran up to the concrete blocks and stopped, gasping for breath. Without hesitating, Milada leapt towards the pylon and was about to take hold of it, but her brother-in-law abruptly pushed her back. Don’t you dare! He looked around and examined the type of structure.

Then he stepped back, took out his mobile and called someone. He’s phoning the fire brigade now? Isn’t it too late? By the time anyone gets here, something terrible will have happened…

“We have to go and get her!” shouted Milada, preparing to go up again. She hasn’t reached the power lines yet – together they could still bring her back down. But Áňa was climbing higher and higher. She didn’t want anyone to get near her, so she was moving upwards to safety.

“Don’t move, damn it!” shouted up Jarda angrily. His niece was rigidly clinging on in one place, now at least six or seven metres above the ground. When she looked down at the people below her, it made her head spin. But if her mother in her helpless state were to take hold of the pillar and start up towards her, she would have to climb higher. She wouldn’t be able to carry on forever, but she still had a good few metres to go.

“Don’t touch it!” yelled Jarda at Milada. She was already holding onto the icy metal, summoning up the resolve to act. She was still standing on the ground, and yet her head was spinning and her knees were buckling under her. Even as a child she had suffered from a fear of heights, and now this was happening. After a moment she obeyed her brother-in-law and stepped back in resignation…so that she could see up there better. All around spread a malevolent grey darkness, from which the pale face of her daughter, suspended above, gleamed like death. Áňa looked like a ghost. She had the same eyes as her father and she was caught in a trap. Even if she had decided to give up and come down now, her body was held in place by a powerful vertigo. A bone-chilling wind was getting up, and she had to press herself even closer to the frozen metal. That was all she could do. The shoes which had been rubbing her feet all day were starting to slip and might not keep their grip for much longer. No-one could see it, but she was starting to cry up there.

“Come down, Áňa, please climb down…” beseeched her mother from somewhere down below, burying her face in her hands. No longer able to stand, she sat down exhausted on the icy concrete. She could no longer look up – it seared through her like impending death. I can’t lose you here too… Please come back down…

A text message beeped on Jarda’s mobile. The power was off in Řečovice and the adjacent villages on both sides of the pylon.

“Right, I’m going to get her!” he declared decisively, and he clambered his way up to the first icy post. How did that girl manage it when it’s so slippery…and it’s so high!

Áňa was holding on with all her might, shaking all over. Her eyes were closed and the smudged blood and tears were beginning to freeze on her cheeks. She didn’t want to go down, but she couldn’t hold on for much longer up there. If she let go, the sky would open up and she would never have to go to school again. She wouldn’t have to try to get better marks and she wouldn’t have to explain anything to anybody. Missed lessons, lost keys, a scratched car on the edge of the marshes. Lost combs and Helena Divišová’s perfectly styled hair. The rash that she claimed was eczema. The stench of rotten meat on her shoes and trousers. Which of these was the worst thing? Would it be enough to get her sent to hell? Would she ever see her dad again?

The structure of the pylon began to shudder – someone heavy was climbing up it. Áňa opened her eyes. Cautiously, she looked down. Please don’t let it be Mum… But her mum was sitting down below, crying. And somebody else was standing a short way off. Hana had heard a cry and dared to come closer. She was also carrying an enormous torch from the van. The fog wasn’t so terrible after all, you just had to kick it and it moved aside… And if you shone a light into it, even its crackling stopped.

Finally Milada and Hana were standing next to each other, watching what was happening high up in the centre of the pylon. Áňa did not protest, nor did she crawl away – she just held on tightly, resisting the gusts of icy wind. Hana shone the torch to show Jarda the way.

“Hold on,” he whispered, and his words were meant for all of them – for himself and his niece and Hana and Milada. Áňa had a terrified expression on her face. Suddenly she was frightened for her uncle. Perhaps it had just dawned on her what danger she had put him in. Unbelievable…gulped Hana in admiration as she looked at the structure towering above them. The guy seemed to be able to do just about anything. How was it possible that he hadn’t slipped at all? Fuck, thought Milada, tensing up, he almost lost it there. For God’s sake, get hold of her! Christ, reach out your hand, Áňa! This’ll be the death of me!

“Shine the torch properly, Hana!”

“What do you think I’m doing?!”

“But you’re pointing it at the wrong place!”

“Well, I don’t want to shine the light in his eyes, do I!”

Milada could no longer stand to be on the ground. Áňa was so tiny up there in the clouds. She was like a piece of litter blown there by the December wind. How could she have let this happen…after all, it was her child! “Move along a bit, don’t be afraid. That’s it, I’m coming towards you,” smiled her uncle as he focused on Áňa. He was no longer shouting. And he was right beside her. Finally he was even able to look around him. If Áňa hadn’t been hanging there next to him freezing, it would have been amazing. It was a pity that the town was in darkness – the view would have been incredible.

“Climb onto my back,” he instructed his niece.

“I can’t,” she snivelled.

“You can do it, come on. It’s easy, we’ll climb down together…”

“I’m not going back there…”

The wind was blowing against Jarda. He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be silly. Your mum’s scared to death. You can’t do that to her.”

“That’s all I ever hear. I’m not going back to her!” she said, pressing herself closer to the iron structure. Then her foot went from under her, her whole body slid down and her chin banged against a pole.

“For Christ’s sake, Áňa! Get on my back!”

“I can’t.” And the girl’s skinny body slipped down again. She could no longer keep her footing and soon she wouldn’t even be able to make her way down. Jarda cautiously moved lower. Going down was worse than coming up and there was no room for error. Now they were back on the same level again.

“Come on! Don’t be scared!” And he silently sent up a plea somewhere towards the heavens: Please help us. Áňa let go with one hand and immediately caught hold of her uncle’s neck. She had to do it quickly – it was no good being split in two between the pylon and her rescuer. She finally summoned up the courage and, trembling, climbed onto Jarda’s back. She wrapped both legs around him and squeezed tightly. She was clinging to him like a tick with her arms around his neck, choking him a little. Jarda gasped and tried to hold on. Áňa, who normally weighed next to nothing, was now unbelievably heavy. If they were to fall now, they’d both be dead.

“This is awful…” groaned Milada from below.

“What was she thinking?!” said Hana almost reproachfully.

Are you serious? Are you judging us or something?

“Please hold on tightly. Both of you, hold on,” whispered her mother. How could she have thought that her biggest problem that day was going to be a bruised arm? All her other worries suddenly seemed laughable in comparison to what she was witnessing now.

I’m not going to be afraid of him any more…a bad person wouldn’t do this… The beam of light from the torch wobbled. Hana was overcome with emotion. Jarda was like a hero from a film. He had done it. They were almost back on the ground. There was just one rung left to get hold of and then Áňa could safely jump back down to the ground. Milada was there waiting. Her daughter fell into her arms and she smothered her in hugs and tears. Thanks, said her uncle, breathing a sigh of relief and looking up at the tall pylon gratefully. One of today’s many problems had been dealt with. Hana summoned up her courage and timidly embraced Jarda. He squeezed her tightly and brushed his cheek against her forehead. They cheerfully patted each other on the back and smiled sheepishly. In the distance a fire engine was racing towards them. Fortunately they wouldn’t be needing it. Jarda called his friend at the transmission system headquarters again ― the crisis of a person entangled in the power lines had been averted.

Áňa lay wrapped up in a blanket in the back of the van. Jarda extinguished the remains of the fire with frozen earth and Milada invited everyone over for hot soup. Hana’s teeth were chattering and she wanted to get into the warmth. And just then there was no guarantee of that in her house by the river, so she didn’t protest and gladly accompanied Áňa. The girl was suffering from hypothermia and shock and hadn’t said much yet. But at one point it seemed to Hana that she smiled at her.

 

Translated by Graeme Dibble