A Burnt Child: A Novel

Tea for Four or Five

84 TEA FOR FOUR OR FIVE sometimes we do something without knowing why. And once it is done, we are surprised that we did it. Or sometimes we are even afraid. But from the surprise, as well as the fear, comes an explanation. It has to come. Because the unexplained fills us with a dread that we cannot tolerate for long. But by the time the explanation is thought of or uttered, we have already forgotten that it came after—that the deed came first. If we’re never reminded of it, because the act corresponds with the explanation, then everything is fine. But sometimes everything is not fine. This is when it suddenly occurs to us that the explanation given to us is mendacious, and that after the consequences of our action become clear to us in light of all that has happened, the explanation reveals itself as a distortion of our true intentions. This is when we experience real dread, because real dread is being unable to rely on your thoughts on their own. Real dread is knowing that your thoughts lie to you, even when you think you are being honest. It’s nine o’clock when the son becomes afraid, nine o’clock at night. They are otherwise ready. The table is set in the other room. Because he is the one who set it, there are five teacups and five sau- 85 Tea for Four or Five cers and five spoons and five small plates for the cake, which the father has brought home with him. It’s also set with five wine glasses because the father has also bought some port wine from the liquor store. The table also has a candle, which is in front of the place setting without a chair. The son didn’t put a chair there on purpose. He wants to make it clear that no one should sit there—but that someone should only be present. Otherwise someone else might sit there. And he knows what he’s doing because he has spent the entire day planning how everything should be. This is why he hasn’t been able to study. His fiancée has done everything else. She has swept all the floors, including her fiancé’s room—even though he didn’t want her to. When she asked him why he didn’t want her to, he said that his floor was clean. Nevertheless, she went into his room and when she came back out, the dustpan was full of dirt. Amid the dirt was a little yellow handkerchief, rolled into a ball. He let her throw it away, but when she did, he took her by the arm and told her that she shouldn’t go snooping around in his room. She didn’t understand what he meant, so she started imagining things. But after he said it, he felt sorry. Sorry because he wasn’t sure himself what he had meant and because he had hurt her. He regrets almost everything he says to her nowadays. But in spite of this, he still says it. Other things are done, too. The books are dusted and so are all the picture frames. All the dishes are washed, too. She had to do that on her own because the father just stood by and watched. Well, he did do one thing at least. He brushed the dog. Now its fur glistens black like a woman’s fur coat. Then he caresses it as one caresses a woman. At one time, he wanted to buy Alma a fur, but he changed his mind and bought her a big black coat instead. It makes me so ugly, she had said. He replied that it suited her. He was the one who picked it out; he picked it because it made her ugly. He wasn’t aware of it then, but he realized it when her clothes came back from the morgue. And because he didn’t want anyone else to notice, he hung it up in the attic. He thinks about this as he strokes the dog. He doesn’t do anything else but comb and pet. Well, he does walk back and forth in the apartment, here then there. It might 86 Tea for Four or Five seem aimless, but he’s actually following a plan the whole time. He doesn’t want to leave...