She thought about the small package she had received from Olga all the way home. She was curious about what might be inside. They hadn't agreed on anything beforehand.
She couldn't check it at the bus stop.
She couldn't check it on the bus.
The elevator was occupied; it was going up to the tenth floor.
Maybe Roza's family had returned. Later she would need to go upstairs for the produce.
The elevator was only on the third floor.
Eva chose the stairs. She was tired by the time she reached the fifth floor.
By the second floor she had already looked for her keys.
She had warmed up so much from climbing the stairs that she didn't even feel the cold inside the apartment at first.
She quickly changed into a pink cotton tracksuit. Elisa had brought it from the seaside in the summer. It was made of good material, and they had bought one each. Besides the pink tracksuit, Eva also had a pale orange one. The tops of the tracksuits had planets and their names printed on them. Eva had the pink Venus and the orange Pluto.
How they had matched the colors to the planets was a mystery. Venus was pink. Pluto was orange.
The cotton tracksuit was comfortable.
She went to the living room, to the round table where she usually read and sewed. Out of habit, she checked the radiator with her hand. Ice cold.
She took the scissors from the table and went to the kitchen to open the package.
She checked the gas stove. The flame flared up. She lit the oven too. This wouldn't heat the apartment either.
Better than nothing.
The package contained fabric. The kind that had recently sold out in front of her. Olga's acquaintance had taken it from under the counter.
Perhaps Olga still had some at home.
Eva was happy; she could finish her pillow.
She would pay Olga tomorrow.
It was clear that Olga had packed the fabric quickly.
On the inside of the brown paper she had written a phone number. Perhaps it was urgent; this paper was at hand. Olga remembered the number, then forgot to tear it off.
365-***
A city number, local.
Whose could it be?
Eva wouldn't call it.
She put on a soft housecoat. Not even the kitchen had warmed up yet.
She checked that there were still candles at home. Power outages also came unexpectedly. She had bought two boxes last time after spending a long, late autumn afternoon and evening in the dark.
She would go upstairs to Roza in her tracksuit and housecoat. She folded the brown paper. She placed the fabric on the round table in the living room.
First, she called Roza's apartment.
She rang the bell. The little girl chirped something. The security chain rattled, and Roza's husband immediately opened the door.
"Come in, Eva!"
He led her straight to the kitchen. The gas flames were on here too. The oven door was open.
It was cold. They must have just gotten home.
The little girl twirled into the kitchen, showing her beautifully washed hands to her father.
"She touched everything on the bus," he shook his head.
Eva took out the napkin and showed it.
"Well, what do you get for those nice clean hands?"
The little girl shyly took it.
Roza turned off the tap in the bathroom.
The little girl immediately ran to show the napkin to her mother. Such joy, the kind only children are capable of.
They even took out the napkins. Eva checked again today what had been added to the girl's collection since their last meeting.
Roza brought a scale to weigh the produce.
"There's a smallpox outbreak," Eva warned them.
Eva packed her bag well with apples, grapes, flour, semolina, cornmeal, and walnuts.
Quarter of an hour of chatting. About napkins, the outbreak, and the daycare.
She returned home satisfied.
By then the kitchen had warmed up too.
She checked the hot water tap and filled the bathtub.
After a fragrant, foamy, hot bath, she became drowsy.
It was only seven o'clock. It was already completely dark outside.
She didn't want to sleep. She took a book from the shelf above her bed. The only one she hadn't read yet.
Tomorrow she had to go to the bookstore. She needed to get more books.
She read a hundred pages in one sitting while checking the time on the alarm clock on her nightstand.
Tomorrow was a workday. She had to sleep. She turned off the gas in the kitchen. She switched off the lights. The apartment became dark.
She pulled the blanket over herself.
The phone rang. It could only be Márk.
Eva hurried to the hallway.
"Hello!" she said into the receiver.
The line was silent. Too silent.
Eva waited a moment. Something clicked.
"Did you go to bed, Eva?" whispered someone into the receiver in a distorted voice.