"The Book of Lies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kristof Agota)

The Postman

From now on we wait for the postman in front of the garden gate. He's an old man with a cap. He has a bicycle with two leather pouches attached to the carrier.

When he arrives, we don't give him time to ring: very quickly we unscrew his bell.

He says:

"Where's your grandmother?"

We say:

"Don't worry about her. Give us what you've brought."

He says:

"There's nothing."

He tries to get away, but we give him a push. He falls in the snow. His bicycle falls on top of him. He swears.

We search his pouches and find a letter and a money order. We take the letter and say:

"Give us the money!"

He says:

"No. It's addressed to your grandmother."

We say:

"But it's intended for us. It's been sent to us by our Mother. If you don't hand it over, we'll keep you from getting up until you freeze to death."

He says:

"All right, all right. Help me get up, one of my legs is crushed under the bike."

We pick up the bicycle and help the postman get up. He is very thin, very light.

He takes the money out of one of his pockets and gives it to us.

We ask:

"Do you want a signature or a cross?"

He says:

"A cross will do. One cross is as good as another."

He adds:

"You're right to stand up for yourselves. Everybody knows what your grandmother's like. There's nobody stingier than her. So it's your mother who sends you all that? She's very nice. I knew her when she was a little girl. She did well to leave. She would never have been able to marry here. With all the gossip…"

We ask:

"What gossip?"

"Like how she was supposed to have poisoned her husband. I mean, your grandmother poisoned your grandfather. It's an old story. That's why they call her the Witch."

We say:

"We don't want anyone to speak ill of Grandmother."

The postman turns his bicycle around:

"All right, all right, but you ought to be informed."

We say:

"We were already informed. From now on you will give the mail to us. Otherwise we'll kill you. Understand?"

The postman says:

"You'd be quite capable of it, you've got the makings of murderers. You'll have your mail, it's all the same to me. I couldn't care less about the Witch."

He leaves, pushing his bicycle. He drags his leg to show that we hurt him.

Next day, warmly dressed, we go off to town to buy rubber boots with the money Mother has sent us. We take turns carrying her letter under our shirts.