Po čistom podu

Ilija Đurović

Artwork by Elephnt

Najteže je kad odu posljednji gosti. Poluprazne čaše odnio sam u kuhinju i preko njih pustio mlaz vode. Slušao sam kako se zvuk stapa sa vodom u kupatilu. Ostatke hrane nisam sklonio. Ona ne sklanja ostatke nakon naših okupljanja. Do jutra će nered da bude na stolu.

Izašla je iz kupatila i pogledala me. - Nastavljaš - rekla je. Gledao sam kako hoda kroz sobu. Pomjerala je stvari sa stola. Podigla je tanjire. Zavlačila je prste između jastuka na fotelji. Pitao sam je šta traži. Nije odgovorila. Odmahnula je i zavukla ruke još dublje u jastuke. Bradu je spustila na naslon i gurnula prste duboko u nagomilanu prašinu. Izašao sam na terasu. Kad je završila sa jastucima skliznula je na pod i zavukla ruku ispod fotelje. Čelom je pritiskala naslon. Ispravila se i pogledala me.

- Možeš li da mi kupiš nešto za čišćenje - rekla je. - Kasno je - rekao sam. Ponovo je čučnula. Tamni pramenovi probijali su se iz plave kose. Obukao sam jaknu i izašao.

U noćnoj smjeni rade dvije od dvadeset kasa. Na jednoj žena uvijek ljubazno izgovara dobro veče. Gleda kroz crne, grumuljičave trepavice. Zapakovala je sredstvo za čišćenje i farbu za kosu i ugurala račun u kesu. Namotavala je novu traku u kasu kad sam rekao laku noć. Ponekad je sretnem na ulici. Teško je prepoznajem bez crvene uniforme.

Čekala je da dođem. Pogledala me i uzela kesu. - Trebaće mi kad ovo završim - rekla je. Spustila je farbu na sto. Poka­zala je rukom prema sobi. Ostaci hrane bili su na stolu. Sve je bilo udaljeno od zidova. Kauč je sama izvukla do sredine sobe. Fotelja je bila izvrnuta na stranu. - Svuda se uvukla - rekla je. Sipala je sredstvo za čišćenje u vodu. Iz kupatila je donijela iskidane čaršave. Pitao sam je za ostatke hrane. Rekla je da će to da završi nakon čišćenja. Uzeo sam flašu sa stola i izašao na terasu. - Nemoj previše - rekla je. Gledao sam njeno tijelo kako se pomjera dok vuče krpu naprijed i nazad. Plavi rep je prelazio sa jednog na drugo rame. Spustio sam čašu i gledao njene ruke u vodi. Prsti su bili modri na vrhovima. Nije me pogledala kad sam se približio. Nekoliko sekundi gledao sam vrhove cipela, onda sam oborio kantu sa vodom. Sredstvo za čišćenje razlilo se po parketu. Dohvatio sam komad čaršava i spustio se pored nje. Cijedio sam krpu i čistio ostatke pjene. Posmatrao sam liniju njenog lica od nepravilne ušne školjke do usana. Udisao sam miris znoja i pjene za čišćenje. Dugo smo vukli čaršave naprijed i nazad po čistom podu.

Read the English translation

The short story “Po čistom podu” was first published in a collection of short stories by Ilija Đurović, Oni to tako divno rade u velikim ljubavnim romanima (Podgorica: Žuta kornjača, 2014). Many stories in this collection, but particularly this one, stand out for what remains unsaid as much as for what is spoken or described. “Across the Clean Floor” is told in the first person, but the narrator speaks tersely and dispassionately, leaving it to readers (should we be so inclined) to provide the backstory. It is as if we are observing a night in the life of this couple through a telephoto lens, or perhaps through a keyhole.

After my first draft, I realized that I had apparently resolved for myself many of the ambiguities in the story and had inadvertently filled in the gaps in the action and added my own spin on what was happening between the man and the woman. The English version seemed fine until I compared it with the original and realized what I had done. Then I had to go back and consider all the potential meanings of the text and find a way to suggest, yet not dictate, those meanings in English.

Although trying to remain faithful to the ambiguity, or maybe in service of this effort, I changed the tense of the story from past to present. In the English past tense, the story lacked the tension and suspense I felt when reading the original. I hope I was able to capture the dual sense of both presence and distance that drives this story to its unexpected conclusion.

Ilija Đurović (Podgorica, Montenegro) has been writing since he was a teenager. His first collection of short stories, Oni to tako divno rade u velikim ljubavnim romanima, was published in 2014, and his second, Crne Ribe, in 2016 (both by Žuta kornjača in Podgorica, Montenegro). His stories have also been published in Montenegrin and regional literary magazines and have appeared in numerous regional anthologies. English translations of his short stories have appeared in Lunch Ticket, St. Petersburg Review, and Dalkey Archive Press’s Best European Fiction 2016. Đurović has been writing for the Montenegrin daily Vijesti since 2010, and his nonfiction pieces have appeared in publications throughout the region. He also writes poetry and plays. He currently lives in Berlin.

Paula Gordon (Delaware, USA) translates from Bosnian, Croatian, Montenegrin, and Serbian into English. Her translations of short stories, poetry, and interviews have been published in Words without Borders, Copper Nickel, Lunch Ticket, and St. Petersburg Review. Book-length translations include the play Otpad (Refuse), by Montenegrin author Ljubomir Đurković, which was published by the Montenegrin National Theatre in 2003. Her review of Selected Serbian Plays (New Avenue Books, 2017) appeared in the fall 2017 issue of The Mercurian. She blogs here.