The Wall (21 page)

“You’d better look elsewhere for your dead man! There’s none here!”

The other man became uncertain and poked his companion in the side.

“Then we better get going, Brian.”

“Don’t butt in, Derek, and shut your mouth! The house number is right. Bring out the dead!”

“Try and find him!” I said tauntingly, and opened the front door.

On the street stood a handsome large hearse, the driver sitting bent over the steering wheel and seemingly asleep. He was not at all worried about anything and certainly wasn’t in a hurry to haul away a dead man. That set me at ease, and calmly I turned toward the house, where the men were not satisfied with my arrival, and fervently dealt with Johanna. Perhaps she had abandoned the room for her own reason; maybe the men had locked her out. Without abandoning their toys, the children had crept out after her, yet they were shooed back into the room with hand gestures and shouted commands.

“Let the children be—they shouldn’t have to lose their father!”

“Good that you’re back, Arthur! What are you doing gallivanting out on the street? You’re only causing me great embarrassment. The men are waiting for you and want to take you away.”

Brian got angry.

“We don’t want this guy at all. We want the dead man, or I’m calling the crematorium.”

“That is the dead man!” Johanna yelled, wringing her hands despairingly. “You have him right under your noses!”

“What’s his name, then?”

“Arthur Landau, if I may, my husband!”

The leader stepped closer to me and shoved me nearly as far as the street in order to get a better look at me in the light.

“Is she telling the truth?”

“The name is right, I can’t argue with that.”

“There, see?” Johanna interrupted. “I already told you so!”

“Yeah, if that’s the case,” Brian said, “then you have to get in the coffin. We have to catch a train.”

“There, you see,” Johanna said triumphantly. “And you didn’t believe me.”

“Keep still and worry about your own affairs. I’ll settle this alone with the gentlemen.”

Johanna made a pleading gesture toward the men, which remained a puzzle to me, and then retreated into the room, still shaken and giving me a contemptuous look, but also clearly saddened.

“You can see that there’s something wrong here. I’m tired and somewhat sleepy, because I’ve worked too much. You know what that’s like, right? But dead, just take a look at me. I’m really not dead. Don’t you agree?”

Derek poked Brian in the side again. It was clear that he wanted to prod him to make a quick exit in order to avoid embarrassment, but Brian poked his colleague in return and didn’t stir.

“Whether you’re alive or not, I couldn’t care less—”

“But you don’t disagree, then?” I shot back quickly.

“I couldn’t give a damn. But it’s right here in black ink. At eleven you’re supposed to burn. And then, I guarantee you, you’ll be dead for sure.”

“But until then … Look … try to be understanding!”

“Until then? Hmm …!”

Again Brian scratched away, as he had done earlier.

“Look, could you please not scratch while in my house? I think you should wake up your driver outside and disappear. Otherwise, I’ll chase you off.”

“Mister, I’m a civil servant, don’t insult me!” He said it angrily and sadly at the same time. “You won’t, I tell you, improve your situation that way. Just think about this!” Brian said as he waved his fist. “You certainly won’t have a chance against that.”

“What a joke,” I wanted to reply, but I didn’t, for both men looked so ready to have at me while blocking my way as I tried to slip between them and into the street that I thought it smarter to keep quiet for a while and wait for a moment that would be better. Meanwhile, the leader grabbed me by the shirt and tie and threatened me.

“Look, I just want to whisper something to you. If you want things to go well, then I’m advising you to just get in the coffin on your own. We’ll just put the cover on loose and not nail it shut. That way, you’ll have the chance to tell your story to the director of the crematorium yourself. Maybe he’ll let you go. I’m only making this one exception for you, and because you want to live. But, once you lie down in the coffin, you’ll see how all your desire to live will disappear.”

I didn’t agree with this suggestion, but by now I was well versed enough not to openly resist the man.

“I don’t want to give you any trouble, but I’d like to make a different recommendation. Put the coffin in the hearse and let me remain outside. I give you my word that I will walk there on foot in order to straighten everything out.” Quickly I added, in order to come to an immediate understanding, “How’s that sound, gentlemen?”

Whether it was this last comment, by which I put myself on the same level as the pallbearers, or because of caution in the face of a situation never encountered before, the leader seemed willing to consider the suggestion and was no longer keenly focused on my ruin.

“Well, yes. But, as you have to understand, that can’t happen. Orders are orders, but we’re the ones who have to handle the situation. As for the coffin, that seems fine, if you don’t want to ride along. We can tell Jock, and he can drive ahead with the empty coffin. But you’ll have to get a move on, and we’ll all go together.”

That I wanted to avoid. I didn’t want any escort on the way to the crematorium, for I wanted to speak privately with the director.

“Couldn’t you just go in the car and say that I’m coming? I’ll be right along.”

“No chance. Man, do you have any idea what I’d be risking if I let you walk? So it’s either into the box and off with you or to walk there, but only with us along!”

I had to agree, and breathed a sigh as the men shouldered the empty coffin, carried it out to the street, and stowed it in the glassed-in rear compartment of the hearse. I looked on and was amazed at how knowledgeably Brian and Derek went about their business. To my surprise, since I didn’t know where they had got the stuff, they neatly arranged sprigs of flowers on the coffin lid and made every effort to make certain that everything looked just like a regular funeral. These bright decorations of gladiolas and tulips, mixed in with the deep, dark green of palm leaves, made me feel sure that someone really did want me dead, there being nothing wanting but my assent. I almost regretted missing out on such a dignified opportunity, for it would be merciful to suddenly counter my decision and quietly say, “Look, I’ve thought about it, and I’d like indeed to give the coffin a try.” There was nothing left but to ready myself for the final passage, it only being a comfort that no one on the street will know how dead I am, for no one thinks of a pedestrian as being dead.

The men had finished decorating and looked over their work once more from all sides before carefully closing the back of the hearse. Unfortunately, their work sparked the interest of the neighborhood. From the nearby houses, grown-ups and children appeared who looked on and observed and whispered among themselves. From the large apartment building across the street, people looked out their windows, the two women and their cats among them, everyone looking on with interest, though without concern, at the fatality. Such detached interest was horrible to me; I drew back almost as far as the front door and would have loved to close it, though of course I couldn’t commit such a breach of trust against the men, nor would they be very pleased by it. Nonetheless, I was curious how everything would unfold. Then I heard the squealing voice of Mrs. Byrdwhistle as she wished her neighbor Mrs. Stonewood good morning.

“Looks to me as if the stranger is a goner.”

“He should have pulled through.”

“It all happens so fast. I say it’s a shame, a crying shame!”

“Yesterday I saw him still horsing around with his kids. You know, the stranger—he’s just like a child.”

“Yes, yes, just like a child. Indeed, he loved to play with them, always horsing around with the kids.”

“He’s all played out.”

“Yes, played out.”

“Yes. You know, Mrs. Stonewood, if he had stayed back there where he came from maybe he’d still be alive today.”

“Perhaps, that could be. You think then that if …”

I didn’t listen any longer to what Mrs. Stonewood said in reply. The men were done with their work, and Brian turned to the driver, who was still snoozing, and thumped him hard.

“Hey, Jock! Are you awake? Let’s go!”

Jock rubbed his eyes, looked confused, and shook his head several times.

“Okay, then. Everything go all right?”

“You’ll see soon enough. Get going and tell them that we’ll be coming along later with the body.”

Jock opened his mouth to say something more, but the leader lifted his hand and gave him the signal to drive off. Then the ignition turned, the gear shifted quietly, and the car began moving and was soon gone. The pallbearers stomped back into the house and laughed, saying they had done it. Johanna was also there, letting children back into the hallway who had not been able to see what was going on. The bright ringing of voices rose as they bounded around in their uncontained joy over the visitors, who looked around them, they not half so powerful without a coffin.

“Look, Johanna, I’ll do whatever you want me to. I’ll get my passport and papers and will be happy to go off to die.”

I had not planned to say that; it just slipped out. Yet, before I could catch myself, Johanna took advantage.

“Look, that’s exactly what I said. Wouldn’t it have been easier the other way? Now you’ll have to hoof it in order not to be late.”

“Don’t you worry, my dear! There’s still plenty of time. I’m looking forward to the walk, it’s so refreshing.”

“Okay, whatever you wish. It doesn’t matter to me what you batter away at with your thick skull.”

I went to my study; it looked completely cleaned out and seemed much bigger. Yet I was also convinced that things had been left untouched, the furniture standing pressed up against the walls as always. I had no trouble
finding my papers, which I gathered up along with my checkbook, calendar, and notebook. “It’s important to know what day it is.” This I said aloud. The men outside heard me and thought it was a question, because Derek then told me the date. I thanked him, for he was nice—indeed, pleasant for a pallbearer. Unfortunately, that was little consolation, for I recognized immediately, as I inspected my birth certificate, which I had been issued back there after the war, that he was right. It was curtains for me; I didn’t have a chance. I thought of how I had come to this country with a visa that was good for only four weeks, which is why, after I left the ship and followed the curving path to the left, marked “Foreigners,” two border officials put their heads together and discussed whether they could let me into the country. One of them felt that since I would be in the country for such a short time there was no cause for concern, for the stranger would then return home. But I didn’t leave, for my stay had been extended, and I had been given extra time on a number of occasions. Now the deadline was passed. I could expect no more leniency, and would have to be sent across the border, whether on a ship, into the water, or into the fire. Brian and Derek were here to maintain the border in their own fashion. Whoever didn’t leave these shores on his own was picked up by the officials of death, locked in a box, such that he died behind the border, done in at last, that day having come. That was also the reason that Johanna no longer stood by me. She knew this country much better, having lived here for some years already.

I looked at my books, I peeked into the cabinet where my writings were locked up: everything was in order. I could relax. It would be best to fill a suitcase with the best of it in order to stash it away. But that was nonsense. It would do no good, for publishers had turned up their noses at so much sadness and didn’t want anything to do with it, no one having ever shown any interest in sinking himself into my thoughts. My melancholy work was of no use to me, since I was to be cremated. I should have asked the border officials whether anyone at the crematorium might be interested in my writings, but at best they would have laughed at me. Why confuse Brian and Derek, who didn’t know anything? My works were best buried in the drawers in order that they not be burned up. Johanna believed in their worth and would hold on to them. Widows and orphans help, for someone would show up wanting my things, and Johanna would
sell them to an archive. So I left behind my soul, the works and thoughts of my intellectual pursuits.

“I loved you all, because in you I have borne witness. You will remain when I am no longer deceived by my own vanity.”

“It has indeed deceived you, Arthur.”

“Why are you here, Franziska? You never liked funerals.”

“I still don’t like them. It’s only because of you, my friend …”

“Well, then, what? Spit it out! Why so quiet?”

Franziska said nothing more, even though I asked her again. Then I looked at her blank face. She was elsewhere, transported, having disappeared into the unknown without a trace. I called after her.

“Are you lost to me for good? How can you leave me at this hour?”

I was given no answer. All I could hear was the border officials outside as they scratched and cleared their throats, and I knew that they would soon grow impatient.

“Are you still there?” I called out without opening the door.

But the men didn’t answer. As I listened at the door, I could hear no sound. Ashamed, they had no doubt crept off. I dared to hope for such a miracle. There was nothing to fear from death; on its own, when it turns away and spares us, it’s a blessing we are given, and we say a prayer of thanks for being saved. Franziska had sacrificed everything for me, and I rejoiced, for she had come in order to scare away death, she having at first removed the coffin from the ship of death of her own volition, and now the bearers of my heavy guilt as well. I turned to a wall and prayed, bowing my head, the blood rushing to my skull, me digging down and holding on in order that I not lose my grip if, indeed, I was finally alive again. “Just a little while, I know, but give me just a little while and teach me, so that I don’t foolishly waste the days I have been granted but instead consider every hour sacred and invoke your name, your glory, and your will. For you, my Lord, are the Lord, and I am nothing when I do not exist but rather only a fleeting creature before your eternal presence. Thus, in this hour, answer my—”