I Sleep in Hitler's Room (5 page)

These kids, mama’s milk still on their lips, are celebrating
hitler kaputt!
What year am I in? What century?

I know I’m going to lose my mind in this Germany, long before I write a single line about it. A voice tells me: Forget the book! And in my mind I write a letter to Rowohlt Verlag.

Dear Publisher:

Get yourselves another idiot.

Then I write another one:

Dear Unwilling Capitalists,

I will do it only if you pay me one billion euros.

Then another one:

Dear Friends,

I need a psychiatrist to accompany me 24 hours a day. Please supply at once.

My contract with Rowohlt is pretty short and quite simple. I write, they pay. But it has a clause there, stating that I cannot write anything obscene. I want to scream Fuck You! Only I can’t. Not now. I am the box-office manager of the Rote Flora and I’ve got to behave.

Anybody for
HITLER KAPUTT!
?

A guy from Nigeria stops by.

“What’s new, man?” he asks.

Just finished my beer, need another one, I say.

“How many would you like? I buy.”

Give me a few.

Oh boy, I really lost it.

He goes out to buy me the beer.

I can tell I’m into trouble. How long can I fake it?

I better switch sides. Fast. Maybe I should get me some Nazis to protect me, before these kids start throwing empty bottles on my head.

I get off my box-office manager’s chair and walk about. Where can I see the Nazis? I ask the kids.

“Everywhere,” they say.

Everywhere?

“Yes, everywhere.”

I got that. Can they show me to just one,
bitte
? I don’t really want to see many. One, two, three, or let’s say four. That would be enough. Can anybody show me four?

“No.”

Three?

“No.”

Two?

“No.”

I feel like Abraham of the Bible, bargaining with God over a few righteous men in Sodom.

Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink, as Coleridge says in
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
. Nazis, Nazis, everywhere, nor one for me to see.

They hide them, these leftists! They hide my Nazis. These kids want all the Nazis for themselves, I can see.

I run out of the building. Got to get me a Nazi that’s all mine!

But where? How?

I walk about in the streets of Hamburg asking people to do me a favor, a big favor: Get me to a Nazi.

The mavens immediately volunteer. “You got to go to the East,” they say. “Bavaria,” say others. Many send me to Austria.

But I am in the north of Germany. Are there no Nazis in the north?

Of course not. Hamburg people cannot be Nazis. “We don’t have Nazis in the north of Germany,” proud Hamburgers like to tell me. Unless, that is, you meet people here who are not native Hamburgers, the ones who really don’t care for the good name of Hamburg. “Yes,” they tell me, the north-haters, “there are plenty of Nazis” around. Where? “You can start in Neumünster,” they say, “and then keep going.”

Neumünster. You heard of it? I never did, but it exists. Let’s go!

Starting point: Titanic. Part cafe, part club, and mainly a darts pub. Men and women, who all know each other and every two minutes “give five” to each other, keep throwing darts at about five dartboards. In between they drink beer, more beer, coffee, and more beer. Cappuccino. Beer and beer. Another cappuccino. Another beer. More beer. And one more beer. Then coffee. And a beer. In the two hours or so that I watch them I see one man hitting the bull’s-eye one time. Usually, the closest they get to the target is somewhere between the double and triple ring, and often they get no closer than outside those. Like on the floor. These people are not going to be CIA assassins. But who cares? One coffee, two beers,
bitte
.

I think: The leftists, or radical leftists, have only beer. Beer and more beer. These people here make a combo, beer and coffee. Does this mean that they are Nazis, or neo-Nazis?

Well, could be. This is Germany. Anything goes here. Lemonade means left, so go figure. I don’t know. I’m only a tourist. Can I get two coffees and one beer,
bitte
? I ask the waiter. Oh God, I hope I didn’t make a mistake. Two coffees, one beer might mean something here. I hope it doesn’t mean Jewish or something. That would be horrible. I mean, if they’re Nazis.

Don’t laugh. This is all serious business here.

“That’s a dangerous place,” people told me before I went to Neumünster. “You must be very careful. Please don’t wear your red scarf! Red is left. Leave your scarf at home. Please!”

I laughed, and my red scarf was laughing with me. But now we are both pretty quiet, my red scarf and me.

Two coffees. Am I nuts?

Maybe I should order a bottle of Vodka, I hear myself talking to my own self . . .No, please don’t! With your red scarf . . .!

I’m losing my mind, if I still have one. I’m not really sure.

While in Hamburg, I was told by the north-haters that there’s a place called Club 88 in Neumünster. The number 88 stands for HH,
Heil Hitler
. The question is: Where the heck is it? Maybe these darts people know. I can ask them, can’t I? Let’s try:

Excuse me: Do you know how to get from here to Club 88?

Asking doesn’t cost money. And if they are leftists, even if they have guns I shouldn’t worry. These folks can’t aim.

But the Titanic people, it turns out, don’t think of shooting me. Don’t even dream of it. They are very happy to help out. Club 88 is their kind of place. They gladly give me the directions. Great. I’ve hit the bull’s-eye.

Club 88. Have you ever been there? From the outside it looks like a great place, full of promise. Problem is, it’s closed. Its black doors do not respond to my attempts to open them. But Jews, let me tell you, couldn’t survive thousands of years in exile if they didn’t have patience. I have patience. And patience pays.

Frank, the owner of Club 88, drives by. He parks his car and says Hallo.

Heil Hitler
. We are in business.

He opens the doors wide.

And more people come in. Devotees.

I tell my new friends that I’m a computer analyst from the United States and that both my parents are German. I was born in Germany, I explain to them, but my parents emigrated to America when I was one year old. My name is Tobias and I’m a perfect Aryan. I came to Germany to reconnect with my roots, and I’d love to have one of those Club 88 hats that they have in their club. They like what I say, I can see it in their eyes. I choose the hat in which I look the most stupid, practically retarded, and put it on my head.

So good to get in touch with your roots!

Sieg Heil
, my friends. Wish our Leader, Adolf Hitler, were here to see me.

Frank takes a liking to me. This club is also a drinking joint. There are many sweet drinks here, not just beer. This is not the Rote Flora. Here they love sweet. Would I like the blue liquor? Very good, Frank says. Anything I want, on the house. As much as I want. Club 88 welcomes its lost child. Tobias. Me.

Frank, let me tell you, is friendly, sympathetic, always smiling, and a very welcoming man. I have no idea why the kids from the extremely dirty Rote Flora want to kill him. He is cleaner than God. And, as he talks to me, he keeps on cleaning every dirty spot he finds. Maybe that’s why the leftists hate him and his friends.

Would I like an energy drink? Everything for the guest!

Most of my life, how sad, I lived outside the Fatherland. I missed much, obviously. Frank would be very glad to fill in the holes and gaps in my cultural upbringing. Would I like to know? Would I like to acquire knowledge?

Please teach me, my friend!

Frank takes his new task seriously. He brings the books in.

Here is a book about Jews. With pictures, illustrations, tables, and other scholarly stuff. This is a textbook, as they call it in America. This is not fiction. This is reality.

Here, he shows me, is the image of the Jewish Devil.
Jüdischen Teufel
. It’s a stamp.

He explains: “The Jews, who control the world, stamp everything that belongs to them with this stamp. When you see this stamp, you know you are under total control of the Jews.”

Does The Stamp remind me of anything? he asks.

Not really.

He takes out his German ID card, turns it to the back, and then turns it upside down. He puts the image next to the one in his book, titled, if I’m not mistaken,
Das Deutschland Protokoll
, and shows me the similarities between the image of the Jewish Devil and the image on the German ID card. Practically the same.

Could he interpret the image for me?

Gladly.

Two horns on top. Jews have horns, naturally. In middle-bottom there is a long nose, another Jewish natural feature, as is known worldwide.

Yes. The Jew controls Germany. And he also controls America, in case I wondered.

Let’s leave the Jews for a moment. What does Frank think of Obama?

“Obama is a Nigger and he should go to Africa.”

Frank comes back to the Jews, his real passion:

“Six million Jews did not die in World War II. It takes seventy-two minutes to gas and burn one person. How could you burn so many so fast? What I say now, if the police heard me, would cost me six years in prison.”

OK, let’s talk about Jews. What should we do with the Jews of today?

“Kill them!”

Turks are bad. Idiots. Or, as he calls them, “dumb Jews.” Turks have no patience, can’t calculate ahead of time. Not so the Jews. The Jews, who are the worst of creatures, they can stick it to you five years later. Just wait and see. “The Jews are the worst. There are millions of Jews in Germany.”

How many millions?

“At least one million.”

Let’s hope, says Frank, that “the Nigger American president takes care of the Jews of Israel, who steal the water from the Palestinians, and stops those Jews once and for all.”

Frank is well versed in politics. Knows everything. He tells me: “The German chancellor must always visit America in order to submit to the Allies. Still. This is a shame for Germany!”

What does he think of, let’s say, Helmut Schmidt?

“He is good.”

Is he a Jew?

“No.”

I heard that he is.

“Really?
Scheiße
!” (Shit!)

The German Reich still exists, he instructs me, though it’s not functioning because of America and the Allies, which are controlled by the Jews.

Frank now offers beer and brandy to his guest, free of charge. He continues to talk: “The German left is dumb, stupid. All they care for is porno and alcohol. They just want to consume alcohol. Very bad. And porno. Who provides the porno? Jews. The Jews, who consider themselves Children of God, used to sacrifice their own kids to their God. This is a known fact. Today, in keeping with their ancient custom, they take dolls and perform a sacrificial ritual. Yes. When George Bush was president, Jewish leaders performed such a ritual in the presence of President Bush and other world leaders. This ritual was filmed and is available on YouTube.”