Super glue / Superlepak

‘Fuck, he can do this every single day. Why the fuck does he have to do it? What are we going to do? There’s no point in rushing like this and trying to save him each time he gets into a dark mood’, Ivan said, looking out of the taxi window.

Image: Ivan Šuković

by Srđan Miljević
translation into English by Svetlana Milivojević-Petrović

*Scroll down to read the story in Serbian*

Superglue

‘Milica!!! Come over here fast, please! I’m fucked up! I need to be fixed. Hurry up, pleeeeease!’

‘Oh, OK. Ivan and I’ll get a taxi now. Don’t move.’

‘Hey, I love you!’

‘Love you too, you fool, don’t move. We’re coming.’

*

‘Fuck, he can do this every single day. Why the fuck does he have to do it? What are we going to do? There’s no point in rushing like this and trying to save him each time he gets into a dark mood’, Ivan said, looking out of the taxi window.

‘Hey, please, let’s leave this for later. It pisses me off when you are acting smart while there’s a fire burning. We’ll be moralizing tomorrow. Cool it. Do you think I haven’t had enough of this? That I haven’t felt the impulse to hang up on him at least three times and ignore him? And yet, I can understand him. I don’t know…’

‘Fuck, it’s just… Do you think he’d have the guts to do himself in?’

‘Yes, turn right here and then take the second turning on the left. We’ll get out there and you’ll wait for us for a minute, and then we’ll go to the Emergency Department. Thank you’, Milica said to the taxi driver.

The spring evening in Belgrade was unusually hot, so the sweat stinking from the driver made the rescue mission even more dramatic.

‘I think he would. It makes no difference whether you’ll cut your leg off and call Milica or just cut your leg off and not call Milica. Does it?’, she added after talking to the taxi driver.

‘But he always calls Milica’, protested Ivan.

‘So far he has.’

*

The way they entered Jasmin’s apartment looked like an ambulance crew taking action. Milica and Ivan were so well-practiced there was no need for instructions. They lifted Jasmin, then Ivan carried him piggyback out of the apartment. Milica waded through the rubbish on the floor to the kitchen stove and turned off the burner. She swiftly turned off several other appliances that were turned on, picking up Jasmin’s leg from the floor in passing, that is the part of his left leg below the knee. She switched off the light and left the apartment.

*

In the ER, in the room Jasmin called the fix[1], there were body parts lying strewn around. Jasmin was sitting on the bench outside room 22, with the sign LNGH!7, which meant he was an emergency case and they were going to see him soon. Ivan looked around with curiosity, and the twinkle in his eyes confirmed what Milica already knew. He was amused by this. And all she wanted was to stay put in her crib tonight. To watch with Ivan that documentary about India in which, with the help of 6D glasses, you can feel the mud on your feet, the scent of an orchid stick getting into your nostrils, while Buddha himself is hugging you all the time.

The digital display on the screen changed, and it was Jasmin’s turn. He walked in by himself, out of habit. Milica was sitting, lost in her thoughts, while Ivan went on playing a mental game in his head in which he would attach legs, arms, ears and eyes, previously separated from their original owners, to mismatched owners. So the old man sitting opposite him, leaning his arm on the wall, ended up with a small turned-up nose that belonged to a girl on the other side of the corridor.

*

‘Jasmin, it’s you again.’

‘Again.’

‘Ok. Let’s put everything back in its place straight away.’

‘If necessary’, Jasmin said jokingly.

The doctor gave him a civil smile and then said to the technician:

‘Elena, please, the glue and fast sterilization of this leg. Well, Jasmin, is this your fourth or fifth time?’

‘The fifth time, Doc.’

‘You already know everything. The state only covers…’

‘I do, yes, Doc”, Jasmin interrupted him. “But I don’t want to kill myself.’

‘You said it last time. And the time before. And…’

‘Well, I didn’t want it then, either. I’ve already told you…’

‘Remember, next time we won’t be able to receive you or react’, the doctor said, applying glue below the knee with one hand, and on the free part of the leg with the other.

‘Agreed, Doc. Don’t worry. I say, it’s fascinating to me how you glue it for me so well each time that there’s no mark. And how everything functions properly.’

‘And this is why you’re playing with your fate and cutting yourself to see if the leg will be glued properly next time as well?’

‘You are quite a joker, Doc.’

‘Jasmin, please install the application My psychologist. Try it.’

‘Si, señor’, said Jasmin smiling at Elena, who was already getting ready for the next patient.

*

‘I feel brand new”, he exclaimed after leaving room 22 walking on both legs.

The doctor patted him on the shoulder and said to Milica:

‘You know that he can only take fluids today. From tomorrow, he’ll be functioning as if nothing had happened. Take care of him. We have agreed on the application. This has been his fifth time”.

‘I know doctor. Don’t worry. The three of us will be out all day tomorrow, that is sure to raise his spirits. Thanks a lot.’

‘Take care. And don’t forget that such procedures were almost impossible until recently. Jasmin, there won’t be glue forever. Goodbye.’

‘See you, Doc.’

*

The next day they enjoyed the spring sun.

He was alright.

They laughed, ran and had a short swim in the lake.

After three days Milica’s phone rang in the evening.

It was Jasmin.

[1] Abbreviation for Odeljenje za fizikalno i koštano spajanje (the Department for Physical and Bone Attachments). Fiks = fix. Translator’s note

Srđan Miljević is a short story writer from Belgrade, Serbia. His main topic is people facing different challenges and trying to overcome them. He does not write about progress, but about process.

***

Superlepak

„Milice!!! Brzo dođi kod mene, brzo, molim te! Sjebao sam se! Moram na fiks. Požuri, pleeeeeaaaaaaaseeeeee!”

„Joj, ajde. Sad ćemo Ivan i ja na taksi. Ne pomeraj se.”

„Ej, ljubim te”.

„I ja tebe, budalo, ne pomeraj se. Stižemo”.

*

„Jebote, on može tako svaki dan. Koji kurac više! Šta da radimo? Nije rešenje da ovako trčimo i spasavamo ga čim mu se smrači”, govorio je Ivan, gledajući kroz prozor taksija.

„Aj please da to ostavimo za posle. Smara me kad pametuješ dok gori. Sutra ćemo da morališemo. Iskuliraj. Misliš da meni nije muka više? Da mi bar triput nije došlo da mu spustim slušalicu i da ga iskuliram? A opet, mogu da ga razumem. Otkud znam…”

„Jebi ga, samo… Misliš da bi imao muda da se rokne?”

„E, da, skrenite tu desno i onda druga levo. Tu ćemo izaći a vi nas sačekajte koji minut, pa idemo u urgentni. Hvala vam”, rekla je Milica taksisti.

Prolećno beogradsko veče bilo je neuobičajeno toplo, pa je vonj znoja vozača ovu spasilačku misiju činio dramatičnijom.

„Mislim da bi. Isto je da l’ ćeš da otfikariš sebi nogu i nazoveš Milicu ili ćeš je samo otfikariti i nećeš nazvati Milicu. Zar ne?”, dodala je ona nakon obraćanja taksisti.

„Ali on uvek zove Milicu!”, bunio se Ivan.

„Dosad je zvao.”

*

Ulazak u Jasminov stan izgledao je kao  akcija službe hitne pomoći. Milica i Ivan bili su toliko uigrani da nije bilo potrebe za instrukcijama. Podigli su Jasmina, onda ga je Ivan stavio na krkače i izneo  napolje. Milica  je kroz krš na podu otišla do šporeta i isključila ringlu. Brzinski je protrčala i pogasila još nekoliko uključenih aparata, uzimajući u prolazu Jasminovu nogu s poda, tj. deo leve noge do ispod kolena. S nogom pod miškom ugasila je svetlo i izašla iz stana.

*

U urgentnom, u ambulanti koju je Jasmin zvao fiks[1], svuda su bili razbacani delovi tela. Jasmin je sedeo na klupi ispred sobe 22, s oznakom LNGH!7, što je značilo da je hitan slučaj i da će ga uskoro primiti. Ivan je radoznalo gledao oko sebe, a iskre u očima potvrđivale su ono što je Milica znala. Ovo ga je zabavljalo. A ona je samo želela da večeras ne mrda nigde s gajbe. Da Ivan i ona pogledaju taj dokumentarac o Indiji, gde uz pomoć 6D naočara na stopalima osetiš blato, u nos ti ulazi miris štapića orhideje, a sve vreme te grli Buda lično.

Displej se promenio i sada je bio Jasminov red. Ušao je sam, po navici. Milica je sedela zamišljena, a Ivan nastavio da se igra tako što je u svojoj glavi noge, ruke, uši i oči koje su bile odvojene od svojih vlasnika spajao s pogrešnim vlasnicima. Tako je dedi preko puta, čija je ruka bila naslonjena na zid, stavio mali prćasti nos devojke s one strane hodnika.

*

„Opet ti, Jasmine.”

„Opet.”

„Dobro. Hajde da odmah vratimo sve na svoje mesto.”

„Ako baš mora”, šeretski odgovori Jasmin.

Doktor se kurtoazno nasmešio, a onda se obratio tehničarki:

„Elena, molim vas lepak i brzu sterilizaciju ove noge. Pa, Jasmine, je l’ ovo četvrti ili peti?“

„Peti put, doco”.

„Sve već znaš. Država pokriva samo…”

„Znam, znam, doco”, prekinuo ga je Jasmin u pola rečenice. ”Ali, ja neću da se ubijem.”

„To si rekao i prošli put. I pre toga. I…”

„Pa, ni tada nisam hteo. Rekao sam vam već… “

„Zapamti, sledeći put nećemo moći da te primimo, a ni reagujemo”, rekao je doktor sad već nanoseći lepak na potkolenicu jednom, a na slobodni deo noge drugom rukom.

„Dogovoreno, doco. Ništa ne brinite. Mislim, meni je fascinantno kako mi je svaki put lepo zalepite da se baš ništa ne vidi. I da baš sve radi kako treba.”

„Pa se igraš sudbinom i seckaš se ne bi li video hoće li i naredni put biti dobro zalepljena, a?”

„Vi ste, doco, baš neki šaljivdžija.”

„Jasmine, molim te da ipak instaliraš aplikaciju Moj psiholog. Probaj.”

„Si, senjor”, rekao je Jasmin smeškajući se Eleni koja se već pripremala za sledećeg pacijenta.

*

„Ko nov”, uskliknuo je po izlasku iz sobe 22 hodajući na obe noge.

Doktor ga je potapšao po ramenu i obratio se Milici:

„Znate da danas sme da unosi samo tečnost. Od sutra će funkcionisati kao da se ništa nije desilo. Pripazite ga. Dogovorili smo se za aplikaciju. Već mu je peti put”.

„Znam, doktore. Ne brinite. Sutra ćemo nas troje ceo dan biti napolju, to će ga sigurno odobrovoljiti. Hvala vam mnogo.”

„Čuvajte se. I ne zaboravite da su ovakvi zahvati do skoro bili nemogući. Jasmine, lepka neće biti zauvek. Doviđenja”.

„Vidimo se, doco”.

*

Sutradan su uživali u prolećnom suncu.

Bio je dobro.

Smejali su se, trčali i kratko se okupali u jezeru.

Nakon tri dana Milici je uveče zazvonio telefon.

Bio je to Jasmin.

[1] skraćeno od Odeljenje za fizikalno i koštano spajanje

Srđan Miljević (Beograd, Srbija) piše kratke priče o ljudima koji se suočavaju s različitim izazovima i pokušajima da ih prevaziđu. Srđan ne piše o progresu, već o procesu.