JERZY PILCH
81
what I need is for someone to make a mess in the bathroom or the toi–
let, all day long, woman, clean up after some filthy stranger, and at night
don't fall asleep for a second, because you never know if he won't come
and murder every last one of us."
"There's no denying it"-Kohoutek's father strove to lend his voice
an extraordinarily commonsensical tone-"there's no denying it, you
never can tell who you let in under your own roof. Myself, for instance,
if I saw some bum lazing around the house till midday, I'd kill him on
the spot."
"There you are, if you want Dudus to spend the rest of his life"–
Kohoutek's mother threw everything into the balance-"if you want
Dudus to spend the rest of his life behind bars, be my guest, rent out
rooms."
"That's right," Kohoutek's father said forcefully. "I'd do time, but I'd
kill that bum on the spot."
"You're all heartless," Kohoutek's mother began to weep, "if you're
trying to throw me out of the house, but go ahead, rent out my room,
I'll move out right away, I'll pack my things right away; but I beg you,
I beg you, just let me finish my last supper. Don't be so pleased,
Dudus"-she turned to Kohoutek's father-"don't be so pleased about
killing him, it would be him who'd kill you, but for them it means noth–
ing to rent out a room to a murderer."
"Tough," said Kohoutek's father. "It's him or me."
"Or maybe"-Kohoutek's wife retained a studied calm, and conse–
quently tried not to look in the direction of her desperate husband–
"we could let a room to some stylish, well-groomed lady?"
"Or maybe," Kohoutek's mother aped her, "we should just hang a
red light over the door and have done with it? How do you like that–
in one room the Rostov Vampire, in another the whore of Babylon."
"The Rostov Vampire was caught by the police." Kohoutek was truly
in despair; he was kicking himself for setting in motion this discussion,
which was clearly leading to a disastrous conclusion.
"So what?" Kohoutek's mother's surprise was virtually authentic.
"So," the Postmaster, Kohoutek's grandfather, helped him out with a
reply, "it's rather unlikely that some guy locked up in a Russian slammer
would come here on a skiing trip and rent a room at the Kohoutek
house. "
"Don't be angry, father, but you're just like a little child. How do you
know that the person who knocks at our door to ask for a room isn't a
serial killer? What do you think, that he'll introduce himself to you:
'Good morning, Postmaster, I'm a degenerate, can I have a room?' Or
