4

09:07

Gemma remembered that day pretty well. In the morning she was spending the time in the yard with her friends, throwing a ball they made from two worn out shoes. Then she ate a bowl of soup with two slices of bread and run around the town for a while. When she came back to their room, Maria said that she had to wash herself as someone wanted to see her in the evening. Gemma felt that it was going to be a serious event. She was sure that the day of her wedding approached. She had heard about it from older women. Sometimes men would choose a girl from the village and they were able to pay for her to the owner of the building she inhabited. Those married girls were usually good-looking girls. And those men were usually men from N. Girls were married, transported to N. and from that time they have never been seen again.

People said that it was better than to be caught and transferred on those big trains to the final destination. And Gemma from time to time could see those trains moving slowly from the station nearby her town. Trains were full of people. And as far as she didn't like Maria and other girls that much, she was sure she wouldn't like to be on that train.

There were some people who told her that she was pretty. Sometimes kids bullied her for that, some older boys tried to rape her, but she was fast and strong and the boys were left with bruises. Or they were lying with their noses broken and trousers pulled down above ankles. Gemma was a genuine K. citizen and she knew how to survive. She could bite, kick, punch and throw a grown man on the ground.

She didn't know her parents, but she noticed that the man from the building two blocks away had very similar teeth and a woman from a nearby village owned the same blond and straight hair. There was never any certainty. Gemma thought that if she had a child, she would at least have guts to introduce herself to her progeny, but that in K. wasn't a custom. So what all the children of K. could do was to suspect potential familiarly looking people to be the benefactors of their genes. There were no proofs whatsoever. Gemma was sure that even Maria suspected some of the girls she was living with to be her own children but, as she couldn't be sure, she didn't say anything. Kids were left to their own devices. They were born, fed for some time by mothers or some women who could feed them at that time and, as soon as they were able to walk and eat on their own, they were left to themselves.

One day when Gemma was six years an old woman approached her and, probably due to her looks, said something prophetic.

'You will get married'.

And Gemma believed in her words and treated them as if they had been spoken by God. As God in K. was also absent, she treated them as something of a rare value. That's why she was so hostile towards the boys, even though her friends had sex many times. She wanted to keep herself in the best possible condition as long as possible. For that, she was also bullied.

Maria surprised her that day. Gemma wasn't aware that it was going to happen so soon. She was twelve and she had just started developing breasts. She was utterly taken aback and didn't really know what to do.

She washed thoroughly. Even the hair. She didn't leave any place out as she was used to, in spite of Fiona's continuous moaning that she stunk. She cleaned her navel, toes, and ears. From Maria, she got a pair of too big shoes, a dress, and a coat. All the things other girls got when they were sixteen and boys when they were eighteen. Normally she would have to wait years to receive such a treatment. All in all, Gemma felt special.

She sat obediently on the chair next to the window and looked at her bed. She used to sleep on a pile of old blankets with Sylvia, Rebeka, Julia, and Fiona. The blankets next to the table were taken by five other girls. Remaining rugs were rolled and hidden in a small space under the bench and were made only when the night approached. Twenty-five girls were living in the room with Maria as their guardian, since none of the girls was even close to her 13th birthday and communally they once decided that it is safer than living with old men and boys as none of the girls had any family left.

As soon as Gemma started to get bored, Maria entered the room and told Gemma to wait. Five minutes passed and an old man came in with her.

Gemma couldn't help herself. Not only was he old, but he was also ugly and disgusting! The possibility of marrying this old man and sharing the bed with him was unthinkable. He could have been her grandpa! And he didn't even look like those people in N. He was simply plain.

'She looks weird,' said the man 'Is this her usual expression?'

Maria gave her the same look she would give to her when Gemma was taking Fiona's share of blanket and Fiona started complaining. It was a form of bringing up or introducing discipline on Maria's part. Maria didn't do much but with one look she could make them act obediently. She was able to manage the room and keep the girls quiet at night and the landlord was happy. Gemma tried to hide her feelings and look unmoved.

The man approached her and inspected her carefully.

'Stand up,' he said 'I want to look at you'

Gemma stood up.

'Take off your clothes,' he ordered firmly.

Gemma opened her eyes widely. Was she to undress in front of that old man? Was he going to test her in front of Maria?

'Don't worry. He won't hurt you,' Maria wanted to sooth her.

Oh, but Maria was so naive. She pretended that she didn't know about anything when Rebeka stayed out late at night and didn't come back for supper. She didn't know what men were doing to girls. And Rebeka loved it. She said that it was better than a massage and she highly recommended it to anyone in need of relaxation. Of course, it made you tired but that lovely feeling of tiredness couldn't be compared to being tired after a good run. But with that man, it wouldn't be even close to relaxation. Gemma would rather throw up than relax clinging to that old wrinkled body.

'I think she comes up to my expectations,' he said finally ' She will grow, of course. And probably get more beautiful. You told me that her teeth are healthy? Is that true?'

Maria nodded and encouraged him to look into her mouth. And Gemma felt even more desperate when the old man was looking at her teeth, searching for the cavity. Gemma knew she had nice teeth. Sylvia had something black on her front tooth and looked ugly when she smiled. Gemma's teeth weren't even curved.

And then the man sealed the deal. He told Gemma to bring all her belongings, which was about what she had got from Maria not so long before and told her to follow him.

'Aren't we taking a train to N.?' Gemma was anxious with anticipation of her future life.

'No. We're staying in K.,' answered the old man.

Gemma was disappointed. She was expecting N. to be her next stop.

'So where are we going?'

'Dear girl, we have just an hour walk to my place, be patient. But before that, there is something I would like you to do for me. Can you climb?'

Gemma's face gave the same expression that she was unintentionally giving the old man when she saw him for the first time.

And, ignoring her womanly dignity, the next minute she was climbing one big tree and trying to take down a suitcase which was hanging on its branch.

'Thank you,' the man said happily, taking his lost property from her 'I wouldn't do that myself, you see.'

'I can see', she said indifferently, wondering what she was going to do for him in the future. She didn't ask any questions. She was still analyzing in her head what, according to the women she spoke to, this marriage was really about.

And then they approached the house. It looked like one of the houses she was living for many years. It was quite old, yellowish from the burning sun, with some of the windows torn and some of the walls falling apart. Other than that, it looked fine.

'This is my house,' said the man with an enthusiasm of a circus host.

'Which part?'

'The whole of it,'

Gemma whistled.

'You must be kidding,'

'Not in the least. It's mine. You can pick your room!'

Gemma couldn't pretend that she wasn't impressed.

'Can I go in?'

The old man nodded and Gemma stormed the house. She ran into every room like a person winning a lottery ticket, trying to be quick to make a decision, as if the gift had been only temporary. And after a quarter of an hour of running, she chose a room. It was the one on the second floor with a big window overlooking the fields. Under the window, there was a bed. It was a big, wooden, comfortable bed on which you could lie and sleep and eat your meals, or lie and dream all day long, and who knew what else. On the floor, there was a red carpet. There was also a table on the left and, beside the table, there were two chairs, both a bit dusted but in reasonably in good condition. By the wall there stood a big wardrobe full of masculine clothes. Gemma on one or two occasions visited the rooms in which some adult people lived but never in her life had she seen a luxury of that scope. The room was huge. It was almost as big as the one she was sleeping in just today morning. It would fit at least twenty people.

'Is it for me? I mean is it only for myself?'

'Yes. It once belonged to my brother. I'm not planning to take in anyone else yet. I hope I will be happy with what you have to offer,'

Gemma remembered women's words about the expected obedience to the future husband. She looked at the room with full comprehension of the deal she was a part of. K. was also a part of such a deal. Nothing in the world was free and there were serious consequences for her as well. This was clear to her. She would have to pay for that room. She started taking off her clothes.

'I understand. It's a great room. I couldn't have been luckier. You can sleep with me.'

The old man laughed and shied away from her half naked body.

'God forbid! Put on your clothes! Sleep with whoever you like, girl! It's the last thing I'm going to do with you.'

'Then what are you going to do with me?'' Gemma stood there half-shocked and half-dressed.

'I have a plan, but I cannot tell you anything yet. You're too young and I don't know if it can be carried out. I can't be sure about anything. But now, enjoy yourself, sleep, eat, grow. I need you as an adult, so you still have some time. I hope you will grow pretty.'

'What's your name?'

'Melquiades.'

'Fine, Melquiades,' she said regaining her womanly pride she was working on these days 'For that room I can at least cook for you.'

Melquiades smiled.

'That would be more than enough'.

Gemma wasn't a great cook. She knew that Sylvia could do that way better. Her soups were fine, her steamed vegetables tasty, but not as tasty as Maria's. She knew that her looks were a compensation for the lack of talent in the field of cooking. One girl said, while tasting her mashed potatoes, that three-year-olds could cook something like this with more grace, which was a serious insult to every woman in K. Gemma didn't care. Food. As if there wasn't anything else to this life. They traded their mates for food. This overall obsession with food started to get on her nerves.

But this old man seemed to be content with her cooking, he praised her, he didn't compare her to other cooks, he didn't recall other dishes he had tried in the past and he was happy. This marriage wasn't such a bad thing after all. She had her own room. She could sleep soundly in her own bed. She sat by the table and did some drawing with the crayons she found in the wardrobe. She also used the clothes she had found there and very selfishly, for the first time in her life, she changed her outfit every day.

'You look like my brother,' Melquiades laughed when she walked through the house wearing black trousers and white shirts with her long blond hair hanging loosely from her head and a hat on top of her head. She was playing with what Melquiades called fashion and he told her that she looked like a little teenage model.

Gemma didn't know what these models were doing but it wasn't anything mean on Melquiades' part. He was paying her compliments.

One day he sat next to her by the table and opened something that looked like a small pavement's brick.

'It's a book,' he explained 'I want you to be able to read.'

So Gemma started to learn the letters and put those letters together to form whole words. Then she was able to read full sentences. It was hard work. It was harder than cooking and harder than avoiding being raped. Sometimes it was funny, especially when sentences she was reading were funny. Every day they would sit for a couple of hours and she would read aloud until she understood everything she was reading. When Melquiades was sure that she could read proficiently he gave her books to read on her own: books on history, biology, geography. So Gemma learned about other countries and about animals. She had never seen animals in her life. She had never seen a bird, even though there were some birds in K., as old men were saying. They came some time after that past legendary disaster they always wanted to talk about, but couldn't. She saw pictures of those animals and she was truly amazed by their diversity, colors, and shapes. They were nothing like humans, but they also had two eyes, two ears, and legs. Usually more than two. She laughed for twenty minutes when Melquiades told her that hens laid eggs and that people sometimes ate those eggs. She couldn't even grasp the fact that humans ate those big black and white cows and made slices of meat and put those slices between two buns and called them burgers. But, finally, she was shocked at the perspective of killing a bird, cutting its head and taking all its feathers and putting it in the oven, baking it and eating with a salad and potatoes. Melquiades said that it was delicious. And there was something like Kentucky Fried Chicken which he particularly enjoyed when he was abroad.

Gemma used to like talks about abroad and liked it when he talked about fashion and about coffee. Gemma loved the stories about the movies. You could go to a big room and see people kissing and dancing and even making love on a big colorful screen. It made Melquiades blush, but Gemma was so eager to see two people making love and she was asking more and more questions about it that he finally gave her a book on human sexuality. She was happy but she didn't cook for him for two days because she was still reading and, when she finally came downstairs, she said that he should check on his prostate since he was aging rapidly and regular check-ups should be on his mind on a daily basis. She knew it all and with a vocation of a missionary, she wanted to tell anyone willing to listen.

Then Melquiades gave her books on languages and they were learning some new ones in case she would need them in the future.

'I like being married to you,' she said during her second year in the house 'It's really pleasant.'

'We're not married,' Melquiades laughed 'I'm only taking care of you. I need you for something, but you can marry whoever you want. After your mission is complete, you can be free. You can go.'

And Gemma was really disappointed again. She didn't want to be married for a while. She wanted to be married forever. Wasn't that the reason she was avoiding boys to be married to one worthy the deal? Melquiades had given her hope. And then he took it away from her. She was to complete his plan and later on be disposed of like an unwanted wife. Gemma assumed that after her stay at his place he was going to take another girl, he would teach her how to read, how to speak foreign words and how to dress like a man. And then he was to take another one. And another. Probably until he would die. And from that day she even didn't care what she was cooking. She wasn't a good cook and Melquiades really deserved the inadequate quality of meals she was serving him three times a day. And from time to time she literally made him constipated, bloated or caused some mild diarrhea. But as she wasn't to stay there forever, she had to build a life for herself.