North (42 page)

That one-armed sergeant had a low mentality, but he made us laugh and he wasn't talking through his hat . . . if anybody was off beam it was the farm and manor people . . . they thought they were still under William III . . . they must have heard the racket at the manor . . . the diesel, saw, and gramophone! the
bibels
had two more records, but they weren't religious, the
Wacht am Rhein
, donated by the army . . . and the
Horst Wessel
. . . by the Party . . . the cook got a big kick out of the catastrophes the sergeant was predicting, he'd been an "objector" for years . . . long before Hitler! . . . deluges were, his meat . . . but he was very cautious! he'd been to school, he knew about the "silent" wing of Dachau . . . for people who talked too much . . . every variety of bigmouth . . . philosophical, political, military, and evangelical! . . . even heroes! every branch of service! . . . army, navy, and air force . . . the sergeant with his robin didn't realize . . . he thought his amputation put him in the clear! good joke! I could have told him a thing or two . . . same in every country! . . . the massacre's over? . . . trumpets, banners, and curtain! . . . lino up the survivors! and silence! we've heard enough out of you! in our situation I could see one thing . . . that listening to this blowhard sergeant couldn't do us any good! we were already earmarked as "horribles" . . . ripe for the silent wing . . . anti-von Lieden, anti-manor, anti-Kräntzlin, anti-Reich . . . why not Bolsheviks? . . . in other words, let's get out of here! . . . Le Vig takes one messkit, I take the other . . . two packs of Luckies for these fine people! . . . tender farewells! . . . we leave to the tune of the
Wacht am Rhein
. . . we're needed at the manor . . . we didn't meet a soul . . . I've told you, I know more and more fancy detours . . . those little paths that seem to lead to the road and lose themselves in the fields . . . you could sneak like an Indian from one to the other as far as the trees . . . nobody'd really see you . . . the geese or the housewives' or the grocery woman, or the "Resistance" in the
Wirtschaft
. . . just as well . . . the Mausers in our pockets looked very queer . . . in between the huts it wasn't so bad, but out in the open! . . . especially because we needed our hands for the messkits . . . we finally make it! . . . the peristyle, the stairs . . . Lili's there . . . wondering what's become of us . . . we tell her all about it, the
Tanzhalle
, the one-armed sergeant, the cook, and the hymns . . . decided we'd listened long enough . . . the diesel and the saw!
boom! boo-oom!
and the artillery . . . but the others must have heard . . . Semmelring had ears all over! . . . especially at the
bibels!
Semmelring was the worst of the lot! wanting to liquidate our Bébert! . . .

"Your
Landrat
" Lili called him . . . oh no, he wasn't ours! . . . and then the details . . . the one-armed sergeant moving out of his flooded bunker . . .

"What about his robin?"

All Lili wanted to know . . .

"Same eager"

"Yes . . . yes . . . the same!''

That's what interested her . . . barbarous! . . . such a small cage! Lili, I think, saw so many human tragedies all around her . . . people arranged it between them . . . this was what they wanted . . . none of her business . . . animal miseries were different . . . nobody paid any attention, but for her money only the animals counted . . . time has passed, water under the bridge . . . all in all I'd say she was right . . .

The problem now was our pockets! . . . getting rid of those heaters . . . I thought we'd drown them . . . but where? . . . like the grenades in Berlin . . . in the water hole outside the Finnish bath . . . of course they'd retrieved them, hadn't taken them long . . . but here it wasn't likely, people didn't go searching manure pits . . . Le Vig had the same idea . . . anywhere as long as we got rid of them . . . Lili didn't see it that way! . . . not at all! she suspected . . . she was sure in fact . . . that our two creeps, Léonard and Joseph, would be watching every move we made . . . they'd go through the manure pit with a fine-tooth comb! . . . the whole thing was a setup! . . . okay! Le Vig and me would do something . . . it was urgent! . . . very urgent! . . . but we'd have to wait till daybreak hours . . . time to lie down a while . . . plenty of straw . . . Bébert in his bag, Lili, Le Vig and me side by side . . . I can't say I was exactly easy in my mind . . . no . . . no reason to be . . . I was reeling kind of stymied . . . I had a right to. be tired, didn't I? . . . no! . . . no right at all! . . . fatigue is a luxury . . . punks, especially us . . . have only one right! to look sharp and think . . . and think some more . . . I won't bother you with the sounds from Berlin, the explosions, the gunfire . . . the "round trips'' through the clouds . . . I've said enough . . . it gets boring . . . I was thinking about Hjalmar and his bugle calls too . . . where on earth could he be? . . . or the pastor? plenty of questions . . . I'd been mulling them over for at least an hour . . . I wasn't asleep . . . I hear a sound on the stairs . . . right! . . . a step . . . somebody at our door . . . and
tat! tat! 
. . . not hearing things . . . somebody knocking! . . . at this hour? . . . I jump out of the straw, I get up . . . I open . . . three steps down, a voice! . . . it's Kracht! . . . he whispers, something to tell me, but not in our room . . . wants me to go down to the peristyle with him . . . okay! . . . I follow him . . . we don't go far, he speaks up . . . he tells me in very simple German . . . I understand hin . . . oh, I'd been expecting it! . . . that Léonard and Joseph had reported us that morning as "armed saboteurs"! . . . absolutely! . . . and the
Landrat
had given orders to search our tower . . . our clothes . . . our ticks . . . Kracht gives me the good news in a whisper . . . comical! we're like actors! . . . against a backdrop of fire all the way up to the clouds . . . Berlin burning . . . sound effects! . . .
boom! boo-oom!
little bombs and big ones! they haven't got that at the Ambigu ° or any of the movie houses . . . sure, but what next? . . . okay . . . surprise! . . . he wants me to give him the two Mausers . . . mine and Le Vig's . . . I shouldn't throw them away! . . . hell keep them! . . . We won't give the
Landrat
a damn thing!
nichts! nichts!
nothing! . . . did I understand?. . . perfectly! . . . it was pretty thick but okay! . . . okay! what did he want the Mausers for? . . . that was his business . . . I never found out! . . . anyway I agreed with him a hundred percent . . . setting up a private defense organization? . . . against the
Wehrmacht?
against the British? against the prisoners? . . . later on in Denmark I heard a lot of stories about mutinies in the SS . . . the SA . . . the
kriegsmarine 
. . . I was in with them . . . so many plots . . . bomb, poison, and dagger . . . that it's a miracle the regime held up for ten years . . . you'll say that Poleon, Caesar, Alexander or Pétain stuck it out for a decade or two! . . . the minute you're anointed and crowned, settled on the throne, master of everything . . . the bacchanalia begins. . . you're sunk! . . . kisses, slip knots, bouquets,
dinamiteros
. . . your beloved people . . . your hominids . . . only waiting for this exalted moment to show what they want of you . . . your entrails all over the arena. . .

There I can see Boger cleaning up with his comics . . . and Achille on his second billion! . . . that'll do! . . . I wasn't going to kid around with Kracht . . . or ask any questions . . . he was taking these things off my hands and that was that! . . . was he plotting something? . . . his business! . . . going in for resistance? . . . I'll just go up quick and get those baubles! . . . I grope my way . . . wouldn't do to take the wrong door . . . I'm a conspirator in spite of myself . . . I'll laugh later . . . now the idea is not to break my neck! . . . I stumble . . . I'm wobbly without my canes . . . Le Vig is flabbergasted . . .

"You think so? . . . you think so?"

I don't answer. . . I go back down . . .

"Listen, Doctor! . . . listen!"

He whispers so low I can hardly hear him . . .

If anybody asks you . . ."

"Asks me what?"

"What's happened . . ."

"Well?"

"Tell him: nothing! . . . you won't forget? . . .
nichts!
In your pronunciation
nix!"

"Yes, yes, fine:
nix!"

"Same thing upstairs:
nix!
got it straight?"

"Anyway nobody'll ask us anything!"

That makes him laugh! the whole thing looked very cloudy to me, riddles on riddles . . . but one good thing: our Mausers were gone! they could make jam out of them! and be damned! all these monkeyshines just for us? . . . at certain times anything is possible! . . . twenty years later I'm still wondering! . . . and the place doesn't even exist any more . . . anyway not under that name . . . or the people . . . the von Leidens . . . their manor, their farm . . . I've asked around . . . East Germans . . . West Germans . . . Zornhof? . . . never heard of it . . .
nix!
. . . occupied? . . . by the Poles, I thought for a while . . . certain indications . . . not so sure! . . . one thing is sure, though . . . it's time they made honest maps . . . like we had at school . . . not so much of the North Pole or South Pole . . . that have no more secrets . . . every nook and cranny more surveyed and crowded than the Champs-Elysées . . . but Europe right here . . . that people . . . with all that's happened . . . know nothing about . . .
nix!

A day passes . . . another . . . I say to myself: better go see our friends . . . something must be cooking! humans need an outlet for their emotions . . . they get sick or make a plan or throw a fit, etc . . . if you don't keep tabs on them . . . they hang you in effigy . . . and after a while they catch you and impale you for real, the Law's on their side . . . the best way is to drop in and look around . . . our usual walk! . . . the 
Tanzhalle
, the grocery store, the geese . . . still the same ponds, the same huts, the same lifting of curtains, the same
cackle cackle
. . . in the
Tanzhalle
the one-armed sergeant tells us the same story . . . all he knows about the farm, the servants," the prisoners, and so on . . . and the von Leidens! the worst scum of all! nobles they think they are! they're leftovers! . . . that feeble-minded cripple! ha-ha!
boom! boo-oom!
. . . the diesel! . . . they think they have a right . . . to insult him! him! . . . to call him a no-good yellowbelly, and tell him to go up in the sky . . . not tomorrow, right this minute! and stop the Fortresses!

"Stinkers! . . . I'll take 'em up in the sky! . . . I'll take 'em waltzing over Berlin! . . . the whole lot of them!"

The cook doesn't even applaud any more . . . a hundred times he's heard his pissed-off pal going on about the crummy von Leidens . . . all he cares about is his diesel . . . he can't let it slow down . . . it's got to run the saw . . . and keep up that infernal
zzzz
. . . and the gramophone at the same time . . . the
Horst Weasel Lied
. . . and
Ein' Feste Burg
in between . . . I don't think they can hear much outside, even straining their ears . . . words I mean . . . only the gramophone, the saw and the
boom! boom! 
. . . I shout that it's important, something I want to know . . .

"Has anybody seen Countess Tulff-Tscheppe?"

"No!" . . . she left a week ago . . . they think . . . they're not sure . . . the one that made us listen to her and answer her and correct her French . . . real punishment! . . . the Charity Bazaar and the Review at Longchamp! . . . and her trips to Monte Carlo . . . now all of a sudden evaporated! . . . no more President, no more Elysée, no more moving sidewalks! a million times we'd had to swear that she spoke French perfectly! . . . better than we did! . . . she never let us out of her sight . . . at the farm . . . on walks . . . on rides . . .and suddenly! plunk! . . . vanished! no more countess! . . . didn't even say good-bye! . . . Lili thought she'd seen her over by the poplars . . . these two rapscallions must know . . . the
bibel
cook, and especially the sergeant . . . I ask my question again . . . they couldn't hear me the first time . . . the diesel! . . . diesel! . . .
boom!

"Sure! . . . sure! . . . she's here . . .
boom!
only she's not allowed to talk to you any more! . .  
verboten!
these people from the east aren't allowed to talk to anybody!''

"Yes, yes, go on . . ."

"She's got to stay at the farm! . . . and eat, drink, and sleep . . . nothing else . . . not allowed to see anybody!"

Hell! . . . if that's the way they want it, I suppose well live! . . . I'd find out more from somebody else . . . Marie-Thérèse in her tower, the heiress, the sister of the old whipping boy who'd ridden off to war, remember? . . . she's still very talkative . . . to Lili at least, real pals! . . . she'd moved everything out of her pad, all her furniture and her bed . . . the whole floor over there in the other wing . . . was one enormous studio . . . she played for Lili for hours, and Lili made up new dances for her . . . her brother's library next door was full of music . . . practically unknown . . . symphonies, fugues, adagios, and ballets . . . by very obscure composers at some petty German court and performed only once in Berlin or The Hague . . . they could have spent months and years working them up . . . they were both delighted . . . they'd have had plenty of time to watch the hordes coming in from the east . . . west . . . and south . . . across the plains and the horizon . . . coming and going . . . Slovenes . . . Tartars . . . Kurds . . . pillaging . . . in tanks . . . on horseback . . . in carts . . . and wheelbarrows . . . and moving on . . . to make room for other races and legions! . . . they could have seen the whole thing from their pad . . . well Marie-Thérèse's pad . . . through the bay windows . . . the fields . . . and beyond the fields the horizon . . . sky and more sky . . . I've got to admit . . . to my shame after all the trouble I had up there . . . there was a kind of enchantment in looking at those vast spaces, those ochre-colored fields . . . a charm . . . you can kill the hours . . . you've got to be rich and easy in your mind to go in for the horizon . . . when you're hunted, it's the six feet in front of your nose that you've got to worry about . . . at the most!

So, we-won't talk to the countess any more! . . . okay! . . . but where did that ruling come from? . . . interesting to know . . . orders from whom? . . . Berlin? . . . Moorsburg? . . . the
Landrat?
. . . maybe Inge? . . . pissed that I hadn't brought her anything? . . . Wohlmuth the
Apotheke
had seemed to expect me to ask for this and that . . . or maybe some other reason? . . . maybe things had been getting worse since he'd turned in his gun? Léonard and Joseph would know . . . the pigpen boys knew everything . . . good and bad . . . through the servants . . . they managed to speak Russian with the maids . . . the easiest part of foreign languages is malignant gossip . . . the "language barrier'' disappears . . . the worst kind of jibberjabber comes through if it's hateful enough . . . hate communicates at will . . . secrets . . . declensions . . . tenses . . . and what have you . . .

Had the Landrat come around in person? that was the question . . . maybe the old girl would tell us . . . as long as she didn't hit us on the head . . . with the Opera Ball and the Drags and Sarah Bernhardt . . .

But how could I get hold of her? . . . the forbidden countess . . . we could ask in the kitchen . . . we go over . . . the diesel's still pounding away . . . so loud that . . . hell! . . . we don't say a thing . . . too tired, let's go home! . . . by the road . . . the housewives will see us . . . let them! . . . it's shorter than the bypaths . . . here's the yard! the barn! . . . looks like they're expecting us . . . I put it to them straight . . .

"Has the
Landrat
been here?"

"He's been here all right! . . . and he'll be back! . . . Does that bug you?"

Rotten mentality! . . . they've got a question of their own too . . .

"Well? . . . what about the heaters?"

"Okay . . . okay . . . all taken care of!"

Let them think what they please!

"In the cupboard?"

"Sure thing!"

"Say, there's something else in that cupboard! . . . we know all about it!"

"Lucky you! . . . what?"

"Look . . . you'll find it!"

There's darning cotton . . ."

"Darning cotton hell! . . . there's liquor!"

"We don't drink!"

"All the more reason! . . . bring it over here! . . . we're thirsty!"

"You don't say!"

"Harras has got everything! not just cigarettes! . . . pineapple! cans this big!"

He shows me . . .

"Bring them here! . . . you'll find them! . . . and anisette! . . . and cognac! . . . whole crates! . . . no risk, hell never come back!"

They're sure. . . and they insist!

"Not so easy!"

"Sure it's easy. . . but there's something else . . . ticklish . . . we'll tell you about it . . . very ticklish!"

So they've got something to tell me . . . and they want something . . . very suspicious of Léonard . . . Joseph at least, you could see him, you could get a squint at him . . . Léonard always had his back turned . . . staring into the barn . . . at the darkness . . . obviously these worker-prisoners . . . certainly members of the local "resistance" . . . weren't going to confide in anybody . . . especially not us! . . . what could they have to tell us?

"Bring the liquor and you'll find out! . . . the main thing is you shouldn't be here!"

Double talk!

"Come back tomorrow with the stuff!"

"What stuff?"

"Everything! . . . you'll find it! . . . way back on the left . . . the false bottom! . . . push hard!"

They knew plenty! . . . and they were rushing us . . . did that mean Harras was coming back? or something else?

I see our dogs here, God knows we treat them gently, but they're always worried, always wondering what we're going to do next . . . same with us in Zornhof . . . here our dogs so old now . . . and his nibs out there in the Argentine . . .