North (28 page)

French! . . . hell, they've seen us! . . . and our messkits . . . they want some too . . . I say: "Okay . . . here . . . one apiece" . . . we keep two for our own supper . . . and I tell them how those bandits have glommed our food cards . . . la Kretzer, Kracht and Co.  . . . a gang of thieves!

"Hell, they're all pirates! all the same! . . . take the Russian cooks . . . they peddle the chow to the Boche women! that's why they're never there!"

Just then, way high up through the clouds . . . like a school of herring . . . we look . . .

"More and more of them!"

Joseph speaking . . . the other one, Léonard, who looks even more shifty and even more down on us, remarks . . .

"Good clobbering they're giving 'em!"

Never at a loss, I come right back with:

"The way Berlin looked when we saw it . . . you'd think they'd be finished with the job . . . eh, Le Vig?"

Le Vig agrees . . .

"Right! . . . what can they find to bomb? . . . the holes?"

"There's still Boches in those holes! . . . they can't burn too many! . . . right side up and upside down!"

That's what Joseph thinks . . .

For Joseph's money we should have been there in the big blaze, that was the place for rats like us! . . . nothing unusual . . . that's what they all thought, not just Joseph the swineherd and Léonard Cowflop . . . Cocteau of the Academy, for instance, and plenty more, our friends in Montmartre and Cousteau who was condemned to death, and Vaillant of the Prix Goncourt . . . that's the magic of my poor, insignificant person . . . everybody and his wife have accused me In black and white, they're still accusing me, and in the sweet by-and-by they'll go on accusing me of having drawn on every cash box . . . occult or official . . . crossed every iron curtain, fixed or movable, crawled through every mouse hole, every urinal, from one crust to the next! . . . the eyes are the mirror of the soul! . . . stinkers see stinkers wherever they look . . . you can imagine that these two voluntary prisoners weren't discussing the pros and cons of our casé! they'd made up their mind! . . . and there in the barn without any Krauts around, Leonard spits it out.. .

"Doesn't suit you, does it? . . . suits us to a T! . . . all the Nazis in phosphorus! . . . and the rest of the lousy Boches! . . . women and brats! . . . all of them! . . . you love them!'' 

"No, I wouldn't say that . . . and they can't stomach us either . . . that's for sure!"

"Then why are you here?"

"Because Paris is even worse!"

"Worse than what?"

"Too high a price on our heads!"

"See?"

That clinched it . . . I'd confessed! Leonard and Joseph pack their pipes . . . with something . . .

"Hay! . . . all we get! . . . and lucky at that! . . . with our coupons!"

We sniff . . . it's not exactly hay . . . there's some tobacco in it . . . tobacco? tobacco? . . . it comes to me . . . hell, they must know too! . . . the cupboard! . . . and that I had the key! . . . I don't think they've looked . . . not yet . . . but somebody must have told them . . . and about all the canned goods Harras brought back from Lisbon . . . no secrets in Zornhof! . . . everybody . . . prisoners, housewives, the grocery woman . . . spent their time sniffing out what was under lock and key . . . roaming around, trying to get a look, conferring in whispers . . . so naturally they knew . . . we were green, we'd just got there . . . they knew the ropes . . . those obstinate hate-ridden cow-floppity weasels . . . and there was plenty of stuff stashed away in Zornhof, not just my cupboard . . . my Lucides, Navy Cut, and sausages . . . those two, Léonard and Joseph, in their ham could see everything without being seen! . . . they saw what was delivered at the cripple's across the yard . . . and the old man having fun, getting himself whipped . . . crawling around his study and bedroom on all fours . . . with the chicks on his back, giddyap horsie! . . . and his bare ass all red! . . . they saw all that from their barn without showing themselves . . . they knew all about the
Dienstelle
, which secretary was knocked up, and the goings-on in the village, which prisoner had taken a goose to the baker's to be cooked, and the three of them had put it away . . . with chestnuts! . . . and if the
Landrat
, Simmer with his sparklers, had found out, would he have had them shot! . . . they even knew when and where, against what wall on the Moorsburg-Berlin highway . . . The
Landrat
always attended executions in person . . . especially in the last six months . . . he'd taken over the administration of Justice . . . both courts . . . civil and military . . . and the police . . . and the prosecution . . . was he popular! . . . Léonard and Joseph knew him well . . . frequent visitor at the farm, he came to lunch and to take Inge to Berlin for her manicure and other errands . . . all the châtelaines around there went to Berlin once a week . . . naturally the
Landrat
fucked Inge . . . first a spread, wines, liqueurs, two three kinds of meat, a turkey, then whoopsie-daisy, Madame! and coffee, real coffee! . . . ah, those Reich "Ordinances"! . . . for us total privation! for them, belly-busting superfluity! . . . a damn shame, said Léonard . . . he liked good food . . . Joseph wouldn't have minded a piece of Inge . . . that was his line . . . which reminded me . . . I got to thinking about that woman . . . she'd risen in my estimation since I'd seen her leap . . . like a tigress! . . . I'd given her a low mark . . . 4! 5! . . . no . . . she deserved better! 8 out of 20! . . . they weren't interested in aesthetic marks just then . . . they were interested in coupons . . . they didn't get what was coming to them . . . not enough margarine or emergency tobacco . . .

"The best way would be to burn them all!. . . plus the
Landrat!
"

I suggest . . . for the laugh!

"Right! Right!"

Perfect agreement . . .

Now, twenty years later, the atomic warheads are ready, seventy-five thousand of them, it seems, so intensely desired and deservedl they should unload them quickl one big beautiful, explosion! and let 'em disintegrate . . . into cosmic spray! . . .

Even then, twenty years ago,
Landrat
Simmer, Inge, her cripple, the old whipping boy
Rittmeister
, Marie-Thérèse in her tower, Nicholas the Herculean carrier, and our Harras, still absent, far far away, were birds of a feather, all really abominable scoundrels, and la waterworks Kretzer, and her two sons killed in the war, and Kracht the booted Apotheke, a bastard if there ever was one! . . . and the secretaries, even our little hunchback with her father the fish charmer, champion of the Spree, all in the same sack! . . .
plop!
. . . into the same oil! perfect agreement!

At this point, Léonard and Joseph, I can assure you, didn't stir a muscle . . . I trotted out adjectives that kept them in their seats . . . that they'd never have thought of . . . which goes to show the advantage of high-power culture: wisecracks of every shape and color, mortal epithets . . . in political kitchens, people's commissariats, censorship bureaus . . . the intellectuals of all parties are by no means superfluous, without them Prospero would flounder, his rages would end in raucous bellowing, diarrhea sounds . . . a little help from the local intellectual prevents such horrors, rescues the false note, erases the squawk . . .

Right there, if there was anything to rescue, it was our messkits . . . we'd chewed the fat so long they were cold . . . we'd warm them up, but where?

"So long, Joseph! so long, Léonard! we'll be back soon . . . everything under control!"

The idea was to get a little friendly . . . well, to make them detest us less . . . when hatred calls the tune, when the whole world is out to slaughter you and you find two three executioners who aren't in quite such a hurry as the rest, it's not a bad idea to conciliate them with good manners, two grains of tobacco, and a messkit! call it a miracle or something else! Lisieux ° never made it, but Bernadette in Lourdes packs them in! . . . that grotto is worth two billion francs and two thousand extra trains!

Bemadotte ° of Pau . . . the Marshal's a different type . . . he turned his coat at the right time and got to be king! he still is! . . . I know forty million Frenchmen who've done the same, coats, pants, and gats! . . . but didn't get to be kings! . . . small-time profiteers . . . fighting over a hundred thousand corpses! . . . they say this! they say that! . . . the truth will come out later . . . when the archives are opened and nobody's interested . . . if then! . . . three sniveling sclerotic old fogies who take '39 for '70! . . . de Gaulle for Dreyfus . . . Laval for the Abbess of Montmartre ° . . . and Pétain for a mayor of the palace . . .

I'm off again . . . I'd almost forgotten our messldts . . . wisecracks won't warm them . . . that's enough reflections! . . .

Passing the
bibelforschers
, I see one more isba . . . Christ! those guys work fast and well! . . . none of your lazy unemployed! . . . and no little sheds, big houses for at least fifteen twenty families . . . that's what we need in France, not clouds of tonic blah or photogenic priests . . . but "objectors"! . . . the way they work, they'd rebuild France in less than thirty-five days . . . the time it took for the mad shit parade from Breda to the Pyrenees . . . I say it! . . . and I say it again . . . all very pretentious! . . . "we all of us know all there is to know, after the event!" the event in this case was our chow! . . . we had only to cross the park . . . here's our peristyle . . . and our tower . . . I hear voices . . . the Kretzers . . . we open the door . . . oh, everything's fine . . . conversation . . . no crisis . . . the Kretzers and at least ten secretaries crowded around a Gypsy woman . . . a Gypsy, I hadn't expected that! . . . where'd this Gypsy come from? weren't the Gypsies supposed to be eliminated according to the Nuremberg Laws? . . . highly contaminating! . . . crypto-Asiatics! . . . a Gypsy free and shooting the shit! might as well say the war was a waste of time! . . . Hitler's New Order, let's not forget, was just as racist as that of the blacks of Mali or the yellows of Hankow . . . we'd see what we'd see! . . . luckily, we've seen nothing! . . . except Monnerville ° king of France . . . and the Gauls booted out of their supposed Empire! . . . everybody can't be a racist! Here this one squatting on our doormat, where'd she come from? . . . I whisper in Lili's ear, I ask her . . . I ask Marie-Thérèse . . . and the Kretzers . . . they whisper back . . . very simple, she's from Hungary . . . she's not alone . . . five families in a wagon, in the park on the other side of the isbas . . . fortune-tellers, skilled basketweavers, chair-menders, violinists, looters, it goes without saying, and almost certainly spies . . . the payoff, their passports are strictly in order, better order than ours! . . . with wax seals, photos, fingerprints, permits for all Berlin,
ausweis
and fuel card for their wood-burner . . . we can go see for ourselves, not far, right next to the
bibelforschen
. . . they were going to camp here for three weeks, time to give us five six shows, movies, singing and dancing, mend all the chairs, fix all the baskets and beehives . . . these craftsmen came in very handy . . . and there were plenty of willow switches . . . the ponds and ditches were full of willows . . . three weeks wouldn't be long enough for all they had to do! . . . the good thing about the Fourth Reich, when the clamor dies, down and you judge it as History, is that they thought of every detail . . . take the Jews . . . how many employed at the Chancellery? . . . in close contact with Adolf? . . . plenty of both sexes! . . . someday a book will be written about them . . . like the super collaborators shot by the Courts of Purgative Justice . . . how many Nazi Yids? . . . Sachs ° was no exception . . . far from it! . . . at Sigmaringen, for instance, I met bigger and better examples! . . . the terrible calamity of the goyim is being such jugheads, such blithering Cartesians . . . according to them, anything that isn't rational, clear, and congruous . . . just doesn't exist . . . only what's clear and simple counts! . . . "over here the little Loyolas! . . . over there Himmlers paid executioners!" . . . don't try to look any deeper . . . Ask for details . . . and you'll see them going plumb loco, pithecanthropic lunatics, all mad with alcohol, staggering, haggard with publicity! . . . as murderous as fifty movies, as swinish as "Advice to the Lovelorn," the Mayol ° and the Grand-Guignol ° combined! you brought it on! . . .

The two of us there with our messkits, hominids or not, we'd picked the tight time . . . big platters of
butterbrot
on the bed! . . . piles of sandwiches and cookies . . . we looked bright with our two messkits that weren't even warm! . . . best thing, give them to Iago . . . he must be back from his virtue tour, hauling the old man around, showing how thin he was . . . I whisper in Le Vigan's ear . . . damn! . . . the Gypsy's heard me . . .
"Allez-y! . . . allez-y!"

She yells at us . . . she throws us out . . . she knew who we were . . . those people find dungs out quick . . . their wagon only got there this morning! . . . in French she throws us out! . . .
allez-y!
go on! . . . let's take a look at this brazen hussy's face . . . not much light, two candles . . . the trick is adjusting your eye, like in the X-ray room . . . now I see her, she's squatting on the floor, shuffling the cards . . . right now the cards are a disease . . . soldiers, civilians, prisoners, everybody . . . wherever you go . . . they've got it . . . the lure of the future! . . . ah, Harras! looking for an "Apocalypse"! a dread epidemic!

It's Lili's turn . . . but the two of us, Le Vig and me, have to clear out first! . . . the Gypsy won't do it in our presence!

"Gehen sie, doch!"

The cards look bad . . . must be something about the police!

Harras is in Portugal . . . if I contacted the other fatheads across the way they'd just come over and have their fortunes told, I wouldn't put it past them . . . but this Gypsy is impatient! . . .

"Los! . . . los!"