I Confess (12 page)

I felt for and found the receiver. I held it to my ear and sank back in the pillows. It was Yolanda. "They didn't want to connect me with you." Her voice sounded low and very far away. "But I insisted."

"Yes, Yolanda," I answered slowly.

"Were you asleep?"

"They've given me something."

Silence.

"You didn't caU."

"I know."

Silence again.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

"Yolanda?" All I could do at that point was pronounce

each syllable separately. I was lying on the receiver. I wasn't capable of holding it any more.

"Yes?"

"They're going to operate. Tomorrow.'*

"Yes."

"I'm sorry I didn't caU."

"It doesn't matter."

A long silence.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"Good luck, Jimmy."

"Thanks.""

"I can't think of anything else to say.*'

"I know."

There was a rushing sound in the wire. Neither of us said anything. My eyes were burning, although they were closed.

"Have you whiskey at home, Yolanda?"

"Yes."

"Have a drink."

"Yes, Jimmy." After a while she asked, "Are you thinking of us?"

"Yes." I really was.

"Of last time?"

"Of that too."

"And will you call me... afterwards?"

"Yes."

Silence again. Then, "You won't mind if I hang up now?"

"No," I said. "Goodnight. Don't forget the whiskey."

"Andyou'Uthinkofus?"

"Yes."

Then she said, "If ... if things go wrong, Jimmy, I'm going to bow out. I've got Veronal. And I'm going to think of us too. Don't you think it's nice? Both of us thinking of it?"

"Yes," I said. "Very nice."

My day began at six.

I got no breakfast, but the barber came. He did what he had to do quickly and efficiently. First he cut my hair, then he removed what was left with an electric cUpper. Finally he soaped my head and shaved it. He seemed to feel he had to do something to entertain me, so he talked about his children. He had three—^two boys and a girl. The boys were healthy, but the girl always had something wrong with her. It worried him. His name was Kafanke and he came from Berlin where he had been bombed out. In 1945 he had moved to Munich. Nice man. By 6:30 he .was all through.

"Good luck, Mr. Chandler," he said politely when he left. My next visitor was Frau Dr. Renter.

She looked marvelously, almost provocatively rested and groomed. She had a hypodermic with her and asked me to free my right leg. I did. She held the needle between two fingers, shook it a few times, then ran it into my flesh. "There," she said.

"What was that?"

"A sedative. You get another one in a while."

"Why?"

"So that you feel good, Mr. Chandler. You'll see. It's a wonderful pacifier."

"I feel perfectly peaceful."

"I can see that," she said and smiled. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"I'd like to see myself in a mirror."

"I'd advise against it," she said, laughing. 103

"You have to grant the dehnquent his last wish," I said.

"All right." She got a hand mirror out of my closet and held it up in front of me. I looked at myself. I looked terrible. The skin on my head was red, and a few pimples had been cut in the shaving. The bones of my skull stuck out.

"Thanks," I said.

"I warned you!" She laughed again, put the mirror back and left me. I grew sleepier and sleepier. All the sounds around me seemed to fade into the distance, and I was overwhelmed by a vast indilfference. I also lost all sense of time. It seemed as if only five minutes had passed when Frau Dr. Renter came in again. But half an hour had gone by.

After the second injection I sank into a twiUght sleep. Dr. Renter came and went several times. I saw her through half-closed Uds. I could hear what she had to say when she spoke to me and J did whatever she told me to do and forgot what she had said as soon as it was done. There were stiU several things on my mind, but somehow I never got around to mentioning them.

"Frau Doktor," I heard myself saying, "there is something I'd like you to do for me. It concerns my company. They should. ..." But every time, at approximately this point, I lost my voice, my powers of concentration fled, my thoughts wandered free and light. I had forgotten what I was about to say. No, I still knew it. Then again I didn't. And anyway it probably wasn't very important. Nothing was very important.

A gigantic man in a white coat rolled a stretcher into the room. He walked up to me, lifted me out of bed like a child, and laid me on the stretcher. He covered me and pushed me out into the hall. I was unbeUevably far away from all things yet my senses were still registering everything—voices and faces, doors, windows, the service elevator. And then we reached the operating room on the top floor. Here the giant left me. In the next room people

were talking. The injection was now working full force. I heard voices but couldn't understand the words. I no longer knew what they meant. Time seemed to stretch out endlessly, minutes became hours. Why did nothing happen? Why didn't they come to get me? And then they did^—^the giant and a nurse. They rolled me into the operating room. Its large windows were shaded, strong lamps were burning. Under a shining silver sphere stood the operating table. They lifted me from my 'stretcher and laid me on it. Strange faces bent over me. Were they strange faces? Suddenly I thought I recognized Professor Vogt, swimming in the milky light of the shining sphere. "How do you feel?" asked the face that reminded me of him.

"Very well, thank you," I said, but I could no longer hear my own voice. The face swam away.

A nurse strapped my arms to the bed. Now I couldn't move anymore. My nose began to itch. It itched horribly. I tried to suppress the irritation, but couldn't. The itching became worse by the minute.

"My nose," I said.

"Yes?" said the nurse.

"Please scratch my nose."

She did.

From aU sides now people in white came to look at me. "So let's go," said a voice.

Instruments rattled. Something began to hum. Invisible hands grasped my head. No, I thought, no! I'm still conscious. I can hear and see and still feel everything. How can you start when I can still feel everything?

My nose itched again.

Perhaps, in an hour, I would be dead.

Perhaps I was seeing this room for the last time. Perhaps my life was about to end. ...

The faces wore masks. Somebody stroked something ice cold across my forehead. If I died, I thought, I would leave nothing behind me. No grief, no friends, nothing beautiful, no achievement, no memories. No hate. Also no love. It had not been a beautiful life, come to think of it.

Or perhaps it had? There were times when it had been beautiful. A few hours here and there. I tried to think of such hours. But I couldn't think of any.

My nose began to itch again. "Please, nurse," I mumbled.

She scratched my nose with her left hand, with her right she injected a needle into my strapped arm. And that was the last thing I knew. In the very next moment, the light went out, the voices became silent, and I fell down into the ever widening darkness of the gigantic shaft of a well.

19

At the bottom of the well it grew light again.

It was like a back yard. The walls all around were ruins, their windows dark holes. It was cold, the sky was grey. The yard was full of garbage and junk, and one bare chestnut tree was growing in it. Under it stood a bench. On the bench sat Yolanda. I saw her at once and went over to her. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"It's all right," she said. "I've only been waiting two years."

She was wearing a long, white robe, rather like a fancy nightgown. Now she got up and began to walk with me through the devastated yard. "We must hurry," she said. "The train leaves soon." After a while she said, "It's the last one."

We moved fast, in spite of the fact that the ground was uneven. Our feet seemed barely to touch it, we floated over it as if in flight. We left the yard and passed through a low, dirty passage into the ruin itself.

"Lool^" said Yolanda and pointed to the comer of what had once been a bathroom. Two big rosy rats were sitting there, lookmg at us seriously. "They'd Uke to leave too," said Yolanda, "but they couldn't get a visa."

"Do we need a visa?"

"Since a few days ago," she said and nodded to the rats.

"Good luck!" cried the rats.

"Thanks!" said Yolanda.

We walked out into the street. It was an empty, bumed out street. Dead houses lined it on either side hke ghosts. In crumbling archways people were sitting on wicker chairs, the way one sees them sometimes on warm evenings, after work. The people on the street were in their Sunday clothes and all of them were dead. Their shattered eyes stared into space. As we hurried by, Yolanda greeted them. The dead made no move, but Yolanda went right on greeting them. "They have a lot of influence," she explained.

"Where?"

"With the station master," she said and dragged me on. Her white dress blew wildly about her. A strong wind had sprung up, and now it began to drizzle.

The station; which we reached finally after wandering through similar streets, was also burned out. People were standing in long hues in front of the ticket windows. I wanted to get into Une too, but Yolanda dragged me on. We hurried through the station until we came to a small wooden door. Yolanda knocked on it. A giant in a white smock opened it. He seemed to know Yolanda, because he nodded and let us into a third class waiting room, after which he locked the door behind us, grabbed Yolanda, and with one swift motion tore off her evening dress. Underneath it she was naked. He kissed her. I stood there and didn't move. The kiss lasted a long time. Outside, on the platform, the locomotive let out a whistle. The giant let Yolanda go.

"Come," he said and led us through the waiting room

to an office. A big desk stood in it. Yolanda, naked, and I in an ordinary business suit, stepped up to the desk. Behind it sat Professor Vogt. He had on a light coat with the collar turned up. He nodded at us.

"Good morning. What can I do for you?'*

He didn't know us. The giant whispered something in his ear. Vogt's face expressed astonishment. "Is that so?" he said slowly.

"Yes," said Yolanda, nodding.

"And what is your reason for this application?"

Suddenly I remembered that we were applying for a visa. The giant had promised to intercede for us if Yolanda gave herself to him. She had given herself to him and this was the moment of his intercession. All this suddenly came back to me.

Vogt shook his head as he looked at us, waiting for an answer that was not forthcoming. He said again, "You must state your reason. That's the law."

"We want to leave," said Yolanda.

"That doesn't suffice as a reason," said Vogt.

"We can't live in this city any longer," I said.

"That doesn't suffice as a reason," said Vogt.

The giant seemed to feel he had to do something for us and whispered in Vogt's ear again. Vogt shrugged and looked up. "When did you die?" he asked

"Long ago," I said.

"Please give the exact date."

"May 7, 1945," said Yolanda. She noticed that Vogt was staring at her and covered her breasts with her hands. Vogt cleared his throat and looked away.

"Then you've been here a long time."

"We're one of those who've been here longest," I said. "And it wasn't our fault that we died."

"I'm only a minor civil servant," mumbled Vogt, "so it isn't my fault. I'm simply not allowed to hand out more visas than there are seats on the train."

"Do you still have seats?"

"Yes, but not for you."

"Then for whom?"

"For the children. We still'^have a lot of chUdren here. They have to go first. They can't stand the climate."

"Perhaps they could travel on the sleeper," said the giant.

It was the first time he spoke aloud, and as he did so he looked at Yolanda sadly and hopelessly, as if apologizing for the fact that he couldn't help us.

"That makes no difference," said Vogt. "They'd still have to fulfill the regulations.

"What regulations?"

"A positive answer to the question."

"To what question?"

Vogt sighed and got up. He walked to the window and looked out at the platform on which the train was standing. Then he turned around and looked at me. "You," he said. "Do you love this woman?"

"No," I said. "I can't love anybody."

Vogt nodded and turned to Yolanda. "Do you love this man?"

Yolanda shook her head. "No," she said calmly. "I don't love him." Then she turned to me and said softly, "Kiss me, darling."

I kissed her.

Vogt went back to his desk.

"The question was answered negatively. I can't give you a visa."

We stood before him silently. The train whistle blew again.

"May I please remind you of the escape clause," the giant said to Vogt. He spoke humbly, pleadingly. Vogt looked sad. He got up with a hopeless gesture and called me over. "Come with me," he said.

"I?"

"Yes, you," he said impatiently. I looked at Yolanda and she let go of my hand.

"You stay here," the giant told Yolanda.

I followed Vogt out onto the dirty platform. Men sell-

ing refreshments were hurrying alongside the train. They were wearing gas masks.

"The escape clause," said Vogt, as soon as he had closed the door of his office behind us, "permits me to let one of you travel. But you're the one who has to decide who it's to be. You or the woman. The other person stays here."

"I'll go," I said at once.

"Very well," he said, 'Tiere is your passport." He handed it to me. "Go. And don't turn around. A bed is reserved for you on -the sleeper. It's the car behind the locomotive."

"Thank you," I said, but he had already disappeared.

I walked along the platform to the sleeper. A conductor greeted me. "This way," he said and led me to my compartment. The train wasn't fuU. Nobody was standing in the corridor. "Here you are," said the conductor and opened the door. "I hope you have an undisturbed trip."