North (48 page)

It weighs a ton . . . she staggers under the weight . . .

"And the candle . . . and a pencil . . ."

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see!"

Perfectly simple . . . I'm going to copy it out like in school . . . in school it's even easier, you trace . . . here I'm going to copy very carefully . . . of course I could tear out the page . . . or even two pages . . . all north and south Brandenburg . . . the coast . . . the cities . . . the railroads . . . all Mecklenburg and Schleswig . . . especially Rostock! . . . Warnemünde, the port . . . and Denmark opposite . . . I could cut it out . . . I doubt if she looks at her geography very often . . . or maybe she does . . . you never can tell . . . better copy it . . . I'd be more comfortable in the other drawing room . . . next door . . . the table's bigger . . . we move the stuff . . . we spread it out . . . good! . . . I get down to work . . .

The
mahlzeits
are still roaring . . . we can hear them . . . about us? . . . probably! . . . who cares! . . . the main thing is the names, to spell them right . . . Nordenborg isn't Nordborg . . . the Danish port . . . the boat from Rostock . . . I know this line, I've taken it in peacetime . . . Copenhagen-Berlin . . . but now? . . . maybe they don't even go that way . . . Lili watches me at work . . . she doesn't ask any questions . . . Le Vig's sitting on the divan across the room . . . he doesn't ask me any questions either, but he comments on every
boom!
on Berlin . . . it's like an echo: "missed it! . . . missed it!" how does he know if they missed? . . . sometimes their aim is okay . . . anyway he looks up every time . . . he's sitting there with his head down . . . he picks it up! . . .
boom!
"missed it!" . . . sleep was out of the question . . . I'd gone to see my two sluggies from the pampas . . . and a few final touches to my maps . . . especially the small islands of the southern Baltic . . . Le Vig's little observation . . . he goes right on . . . "missed it! . . . missed it!" . . . he asks me for the candle . . . some nerve! . . . there's only one . . . 

"Robert! Robert! shut up!"

"What about them? Can't you hear them?"

He means the dining room . . . the bursts of laughter . . . 

"Sap! They're laughing at us!" 

"And the old geezers? I suppose they're crying?" 

I'd better stow it . . . we'd go on all night . . .

"Hey, Ferdie, look at my forehead!"

That's Le Vig . . . it must he five o'clock . . . I hadn't slept much . . . they had maybe . . . I must have blown out the candle around two . . . or three . . . I'd finished copying my maps . . . what's the matter with his forehead? . . . I light the candle . . . I look at his forehead . . . nothing! . . . maybe . . . a little red on one side . . . a finger mark . . .

"Where'd you do that?"

"Not me . . . those guys!"

"What guys? I'd have seen them! nobody's been here!"

"I saw them! . . . you never see anything!"

His bug! apparitions!

"You must be Bernadette, son!"

"No, I'm not Bernadette, but I saw them!"

I never know if he's making it up or if he really believes it . . . hallucinations or trying to get a rise out of me . . . either way it wouldn't do me any good to contradict him . . . he'd smash everything. . . amazement is the best angle . . . ah? . . . I go . . . ah? . . . he tells me that while we were sleeping Léonard and the other guy came into the room, with Nicholas, the Russian giant . . . rummaged around . . . the sideboards and the cupboard . . . and snagged a lot of bottles . . . and split . . . but he barred the way . . . oh yes! . . . and there was a terrible struggle, and that's where he got the red marks on his forehead . . .

"Yes, yes, Le Vig! I see them!"

I take a good look at him, he's sick . . . well, overwrought . . .

"Ferdie, I'm in the middle of a dream . . . don't bother me! . . . you'll be in it too! . . . and Lili! and Bébert! . . . all four of us in a dream! . . . isn't it lovely?"

"Marvelous! . . . I'm going to take a look at die cupboard . . ."

Yes, by golly! . . . somebody's been rummaging . . . but who? . . . Léonard and Joseph? . . . I don't think so . . . different visitors . . . but who? . . . Léonard and Joseph wouldn't dare . . . I dont think . . . they'd rather send us . . . Le Vig there, from telling me about this battle in the dark, he's all a-tremble . . . in a "theatrical state" . . . squinting like in his last movie . . . even worse, it seems to me . . . he usually gets these attacks early in the morning . . .

"My dream, Ferdinand! . . . my dream! I'll take you both! . . . you'll see it with different eyes! . . . the whole thing! you'll see! . . ."

I'm so glad, Le Vig, it'll be marvelous!" We needed a marvel! let him rave! . . . his nature . . . no use arguing . . . something had happened . . . but what? . . . I'll never know . . . he'd calm down outside, in the fresh air . . . it must be pretty chilly out there . . .

"You know what, Ferdinand. . . I counted the
booms!
. . . you know how many?"

"No . . . tell me!"

"Two thousand two hundred and eighty-seven! . . . and don't try to tell me different!"

"No! I wouldn't dream of it!"

"No . . . I was wrong! three thousand four hundred and ninety-two!"

"Quite a figure!"

We're outside . . . it's cold all right . . . I could see he wasn't any better . . . squinting even worse . . .

"Let's go over to the farm."

"What for?"

"See if there's anything new . . . it's possible, you know . . ."

"Okay, give me your arm, don't let me go!"

I wasn't very steady myself . . .

"Because, don't you see, I'm happy! . . . because I know how many bombs!"

He'd have kept me there for hours telling me this figure and that figure . . . better get moving . . . but we hadn't looked at our patients on the way out . . . we go back . . . they're all right . . . I think . . . they seem to sleep by fits and starts . . . they breathe the same way . . . their fractures must wake them up . . . and then they drop back . . . 

"Lili, you return the atlases . . . ask the old bag if she's coming down . . . and if she's going to the party . . ."

"Will you be long?"

"No, just there and back . . ."

"What for?"

"To see if they've gone."

"Yes . . . good idea . . ."

I keep hold of Le Vig . . . he's acting funny . . . funnier than usual . . . he's mumbling . . . counting the echoes . . . he always had a lot of tics . . . now he's jerking like a jumping jack . . . "in a dream" he said . . . one of his states . . . I'm in it too . . . and Lili! . . . we'd see . . . but dream or no dream, Le Vig's got his suspicions . . . anyway, we go see Léonard . . . this visit of his with Joseph and the
moujik
. . . no, I don't believe it . . . somebody'd been into the cupboard . . . definitely . . . but who? . . . the marks on Le Vig's forehead? . . . maybe he bumped into something . . . doesn't amount to much . . . wanted to stop them, he says . . . I can't do anything for my two retired colonels . . . they're groaning a bit . . . we'll give them a shot when I get back, put them to sleep . . . we finally shove off . . . the park . . . Le Vig keeps mumbling . . . "I'm so happy!" . . . and he asks me: "aren't you happy?" I set his mind at rest. . . "oh yes! yes!" . . . finally the kitchen . . . I knock, I knock some more . . . nobody! . . . or at Inge's stairway either . . . we skirt the manure pit . . . at the barn I call out . . . no answer . . . only the hundred-odd pigs . . . grunting . . . maybe our scalawags are inside, maybe they're just not answering . . . we tum around . . . the park again . . . back in the drawing room . . . Lili's there already . . . with a message from Marie-Thérèse . . . we shouldn't leave the house, shell bring us some cakes when she comes down to see her brother . . . Le Vig's still squinting . . .

"Uncross those eyes! you can if you want!"

"No! . . . I can't!"

"Still happy?"

"Yes! . . . you too?"

"Yes . . . you ham!"

I don't say any more, I'd wake bun up . . . he claims to be dreaming . . . if that's his story it's all right with me . . . I decide we won't go to the
mahlzeit
. . . well wait till this evening . . . I don't want to see la Kretzer and listen to that laugh . . . not that I'm so terribly sensitive, but hysteria can bring on terrible scenes . . . which is just what this Frau wants! . . . we'll finish our messkits here in the drawing room . . . the show is at eight, I'll have to latch onto Kracht at half past seven, and then we won't let him out of our sight . . . I don't know why . . . I'm, nowhere near as gifted as certain people who can tell from the waves what the future is cooking . . . for better or worse . . . more reliable than coffee grounds or cards . . . births, boy, girl, first prize in the lottery, assassination, cancer, grade crossing . . . maybe I'm a wee bit intuitive, but no more . . . I'm too skeptical . . . but in the present case I'm not skeptical at all . . . the two cowflops with the candle had told us . . . even if they are two-timing skunks . . . we've been warned! . . . "not to budge" . . . well and good! . . . meanwhile another loaf of bread . . . Le Vig slices . . . still dreaming . . . we look out at the plain . . .

"Ferdie, you can't imagine how happy I am . . . how about you, Lili?. . . do you believe me, pal?"

"In seventh heaven, my dear Le Vig! seventh heaven!"

Not quite so noisy over there in Berlin . . . but still plenty of light in the clouds . . . fire-pink and sulphur-yellow . . .

"How happy I am!"

He says it again . . .

"And I'm in seventh heaven, I repeat . . . we're thrice blessed!"

Plenty of gulls . . . big flocks . . . and more flocks . . . they glide . . . and dive . . . the crows take a powder . . .

"Le Vig, you see this plain? . . . it's infinite!"

"Infinite?"

"No . . . not infinite . . . from the Somme to the Urals!"

I'm trying to get him to think . . .

"Oh yes! . . . you're perfectly right! . . . but Ferdie, are you happy?"

It's on his mind . . . and nothing else . . . time passes . . . we've scraped our messkits bare . . . over at the farm, I'm thinking, the cripple and his wife are laying out the future . . . hell! . . . we could always go over . . . and break the door down! . . . anyway, they weren't the only ones that were questioning the decks . . . the housewives . . . behind their shutters! . . . and the Gypsy virtuosos! . . . Inge and her cripple were so deep in the cards that nobody could see them! . . . the grocery woman was an old hand . . . two three packs behind her "funny honey" . . . I can see that they wouldn't be easy in their minds, but what if they'd been in our place! take Le Vig . . . underneath his battiness he knows . . . he's just afraid to look things in the face . . .

"Lili . . . our old bag up there . . . is she laying out cards?

"She sure is! . . . doesn't do anything else!"

I'd known it all along . . .

"That's why she hasn't come down . . . no time!"

"We mustn't be late!"

There'd be a bit of a snack at the morale session . . . they'd said so at the
mahlzeit
. . . I'm not so sure . . . anyway we'd catch Kracht and hold on to him . . . sure I'm a sap, but the determined kind . . . not always, alas! . . . the times when hesitation got into me, I'm still repenting . . .

I hear steps in the vestibule . . . heading for the
mahlzeit 
. . .

"Come on! let's go!"

We're on the dot . . . we're first in fact . . . the table's set . . . quantities of
butterbrot
. . . they're spoiling us! . . . four piles of margarine-liverwurst sandwiches . . . not bad! . . . ah, here they come . . . our heiress, la Kretzer and her husband, the whole staff of the
Dienstelle
. . . not a one missing! . . . seems kind of strange . . . the whole lot! . . . and Kracht! good!
guten tag!
heil!
maybe a trace of a moustache . . . starting it up again? . . . his Adolf mousetail? . . . no, I see he hasn't shaved . . . caution? . . . bad humor? . . . no comment, if s none of my business . . . my business is the two blimps . . . suppose they kick in while I'm gone, there's sure to be a stink, what I should have done, and so on . . . I go right to the point . . . in a loud voice . . . I want them all to hear me . . .

"Kracht . . . are you going to this shindig? . . . everybody'll be there . . . we too . . . but there's one thing I'd like to ask you . . ."

"Please do, my dear Doctor . . ."

In the intermission . . . sure they'll have intermissions . . . I'd like you to come back for a second and see our patients . . . I don't like to leave them alone for too long . . . see what I mean?"

"Why, certainly, my dear Doctor!"

I've made myself clear . . . nobody says a word . . . deep in their sandwiches . . . stowing it away . . . good! . . . Kracht looks at his watch . . . almost eight . . . we've been fortifying ourselves long enough . . . he's got his flashlights . . . one great big one . . . as an SS-man, he's entitled to these "torches" . . . we get going! . . . the
Landrat
's supposed to preside . . . maybe he's there already . . . this "Strength Through Joy" isn't just a show, it's a "Victory Demonstration" under the high patronage of Göbbels . . . well see . . . I'm not expecting to be entertained . . . but we won't sulk! . . . well applaud like mad! . . . at the same time as Kracht! . . . I'm kind of worried . . . for one thing, leaving my patients there all alone . . . I can't take them along! . . . it won't be long till the intermission . . . I don't think . . . I'll come back and see them with Kracht, it's all settled . . . the park again . . . the village, the alleys, all of us together . . . we pass the grocery store, the
wirtschaft
, the church . . . we stumble and stagger quite a lot, more than in the daytime . . . naturally . . . Kracht could give us a little light . . . he doesn't, he's afraid to use his "torches". . . it seems they can be seen from way up in the clouds . . . I hear the typists' voices ahead of us . . . I don't hear Inge or the cripple, or Countess Thor von Thorfels . . . they must be there already . . . the
Tanzhalle
can't be far . . . Kracht could give us some light, we'd see it from here . . . he refuses . . . we could fall into one of the ponds . . . or a beet pit . . . deep soft earth . . . but he won't . . . on account of the Fortresses, he says . . . poppycock! . . . the lousy Fortresses know exactly where we are . . . if they don't burn this lousy village down it's because they don't want to! . . . Kracht's talking through his hat! . . . his
Tanzhalle
. . . after the place where the roads come back together . . . that's it! . . . the guitar! . . . sure thing! . . . the music's already started . . .
"Hier! hier!
this way!" they're calling us . . . their door! not much light! a blowtorch outside the door! . . . we go in . . . the shack is brightly lit! at all four corners! acetylene lamps! . . . "the door! the door!" they're chewing us out! what about their lamp? outside! to hell with that, who cares what's going on outside, but we should shut the door! okay, okay, dumb Krauts! in the hall now, I see the whole stage . . . can't see anything else . . . everything's white . . . all I can make out of the audience is chignons and the backs of men's necks . . . the glare of those acetylene lamps! black-and-white effect . . . we're blinded . . . but we can see the Gypsies . . . men . . . women . . . kids . . . the old man with the white hair who was so interested in Lili . . . especially her castanets and her ring . . . the whole tribe seems to be there . . . bunched up, the old women in back, the young in front . . . looks like they're going to dance . . . a fandango! . . . an old houri is singing . . . a Gypsy or Hungarian, old and fat . . . cushions of blubber . . . with arms like a man and a belly with room enough for at least three fibromas . . . tits like lifebuoys! . . . she's singing a Brandenburg romanzo . . . according to Kracht . . . not a bad voice, light and clear . . . and charm . . . she lifts up her skirt . . . way up! . . . she's going to dance . . . the old man announces: a seguidilla! . . . fast! . . . very fast! . . . heels! . . . boobies! . . .
rat-tat-tat-tat!
. . . the whole stage is shaking . . . she's about fifty . . . not ugly, kind of pretty in fact . . . and temperament! . . . more fire than the young girls around her . . . those chicks may be out of a Gypsy wagon, but you can see they're thinking of something else . . . no flame, none at all! . . . a nice little marriage, an attentive husband, the department stores, the hairdresser, dye their hair ash-blond . . . settle down, respected position, something in the civil service, maybe the post office, selling stamps . . . and not make fools of themselves for a lot of lugs! on the stage you see it all . . . their future, their desires . . . the theater tells the truth . . . maybe a little shoplifting first . . . to keep up with the family . . . but not too much, no scandal! . . . same with the boys, not the tragic Gypsy type . . . they're dancing with each other, feeling each other up, the pansy 
jota
. . . "the rabble will inherit the earth!'' . . . no possible doubt . . . no need of Nietzsche, Zomhof told the story . . . Big Bazoom at the age of fifty still believed in the sacred fire, the young ones didn't . . . the audience was ready and willing . . . they wanted the big booby baby to lift her skirts up higher . . . and higher! they wanted her to grab one of the fags and kiss him on the mouthl . . .
küss! küss!
they clamor! they insist! . . . she grabs one . . . he makes a face . . . she slaps it for him! what a show! whoopee! everybody howling! hurray! hurray! . . . boys dancing together! . . . girls dancing together! rubsie-rubsie! on with the dance! fire, passion, the genuine article! . . . they're up-to-the-minute in Zornhof! . . . white heat! . . . who'd have thunk it! . . . the morale had been boosted all right! . . . sky-high! . . . the Propaganda Section has nothing to complain about! . . . in two seconds flat! . . . these Gypsies are good for something else beside mending chairs! . . .