The Wall (22 page)

There was a knock at the door. I was startled, such that I could no longer pray. Yet I had said all that I wanted to say and was satisfied. Johanna stood in the doorway, pale and full of reproach.

“Okay, Arthur, where do you think you’re hiding! We’re all waiting for you; the breakfast is cold.”

Why should I eat anything? I asked myself, and stood there wavering.

“Come on, then!”

She motioned for me to follow, half angry and impatient, half friendly, and she couldn’t understand why I stood there so obtuse, as if her words were a puzzle. Since I continued not to stir, she took me tenderly by the hand.

“Do you have to cause me such trouble on this day of death! The men are so nice, and are eating with us. But you stand there lost, as if you didn’t have a heart. Don’t you want to have your last meal with us?”

“No, I don’t. Nor is it going to be my last meal. Things have completely changed. I’m staying home today. Please, just leave me alone!”

As far as I could see, Johanna was not backing down; instead, for the first time that day she showed understanding and lightly patted my shoulder.

“You dear, dear simple man. If life were only as easy as death, then you would have won. Have you forgotten why the men are here?”

“Franziska took them away.”

“Franziska?”

“Yes, she came and gave me life. Now you can be a lot happier with me. My stay has been extended.”

Johanna shook her head in quiet sadness, looking at me deeply and painfully as never before. It touched me and impressed me that she hesitated before me so helplessly.

“What’s wrong, Johanna?”

“With me? Nothing. Only with you. Sit down. Come and eat your oatmeal.”

She took me by the hand. I could have resisted, for I felt strong enough to hold my ground. But Johanna was overcome with sadness. She, who was otherwise so strong, was all of a sudden a compassionate fragile creature who had to be treated tenderly in order not to be wounded. Shyly, I ventured a final word.

“You know, dear, one shouldn’t leave anything unfinished. They are just trying to do their job, I can tell.”

“It’s not unfinished, dear. You’ve done enough already.”

“It’s easy to think so, but it’s not true.”

It wasn’t possible to protest any further, and so I quietly retreated down the unavoidable passage to the room off the garden in back, where the table was much too festively laid out. Spirits were high, the pallbearers pleased with the food, smacking their lips and joking with the children, which pleased them. Johanna had not scrimped and had prepared a huge breakfast. There was ham and eggs, lovely toast, butter, honey, and marmalade. The men slurped down tea with pleasure from our best cups. For me alone, there was oatmeal in a little bowl, Brian and Derek preferring their more ample helpings.

“Well, then, sit down, Arthur. It’s about time!”

“We thought you were dead already!” the leader added rudely but meaning well. “Your wife—boy, can she cook! What she does with her bacon, soft as silk, simply
primissima!
”

Brian talked with his mouth full, bits of fat on his lips. I forced myself not to be rude in reply.

“If it tastes so good, you can come back again soon—both you and your friend!”

“Thanks very much, we’d be happy to! I’m a widower. To have a wife like yours would be easy to get used to!”

The leader was rude and had no idea that he should be ashamed, rather than looking straight at me with a big grin. He stuffed his mouth full, chewed, and called out with pleasure.

“Nothing shy about me! I’m a man!”

The children both trembled. Derek noticed and wanted to put them at ease.

“No need to be afraid, my little sparrows! Brian there is a good guy, and funny. He won’t do us any harm.”

“No, little bugs, no need to get all worked up!” yelled the leader even louder. “I won’t be coming back.”

“No? Really not?” Michael asked anxiously.

Eva began to cry. I saw how it was too much for her mother, for, in addition, Michael was not at all eased by Derek’s words and also began to sob. I would have been happy to comfort Johanna and come to her aid, but I
could sense her deep resistance like a cold wall, she fearing for the children more in regard to me than to the men, a dead father being no blessing but rather something that would harm the children. Therefore I looked at the pallbearers in seeming confidence, and turned to Brian.

“I think there’s no more time left to lose. If you’re full, we can head off.”

“Right! You’re no fool!” the leader confirmed.

“But you didn’t eat any oatmeal and hardly drank your tea!” Johanna said with slight disapproval.

That was the last straw. I stood up and was firm with the unwelcome guests.

“There was only a little bowl of it, and it was for me. And besides, the gentlemen don’t eat oatmeal and, what’s more, I’m sick of this whole charade.”

The men had not expected such decisiveness on my part. They were taken aback, stuffing their mouths with several bites more and shifting uneasily in their seats.

“No hurry, don’t choke!” I joked. “Whoever eats last eats best.”

Johanna had taken Eva, who wept bitterly, onto her lap, Michael meanwhile pressing his head hard into her.

“If you want me to go with you,” I warned the men, “then behave as if you do. I’m done and will wait for you out front.”

My sudden hurry annoyed the pallbearers, but they didn’t dare risk showing their displeasure, instead devoting themselves with undiminished desire to eating more, drinking their tea in haste, and, finally, indicating that they were ready to follow me. Yet they continued to sit there. Johanna wavered as to whether she should be thankful that I had taken command of the situation so forcefully or if she should speak up and ask me not to leave the table without having eaten, since I had hardly touched a bite. Suddenly, she came to a decision and passed by me and down the hall with Eva and Michael in hand, painfully trying to hold the children away from me so that I couldn’t touch them or nuzzle them. Once outside, she called back breathlessly that she would be right back, she just needed a moment, because she wanted to accompany me and the men to make sure everything went all right; she just had to leave the children with Mrs. Stonewood. That seemed unnecessary to me, but I said nothing. As I looked for my coat and hat in
the hall, the men continued to sit at the breakfast table back in the room, me becoming worried that there was something wrong. Therefore I went back to make sure everything was all right. They were shamelessly stuffing into their pockets what was left of the meal, nor were they the least disturbed by my appearance.

“Do pallbearers always steal?”

The men didn’t stop, and grabbed anything they could, not leaving behind so much as a slice of bread. As soon as they heard Johanna outside again, the thieves straightened up and pressed at their pockets to smooth them out, but with no sense of guilt.

“We gave you a break,” said Derek. “Now give us one. And, besides, you won’t be needing any of it any longer.”

Johanna stepped into the room and saw with one glance what had happened, yet she didn’t say a word. In a matter-of-fact manner, she spoke firmly.

“The children are fine. Gentlemen, we can leave.”

I wanted to let the men lead the way, but they didn’t trust me, and so I had to go first. Johanna followed last and locked the house. West Park Row seemed much busier than usual, for there were people everywhere, a striking scene. I was amazed. I had always loved the neighborhood precisely because, even at weddings and funerals, there were never many idle gawkers.

“Is it because of me …?”

The men, who had donned white gloves, gave no reply. It was frightfully clear to me that I had to snake my way through this crowd. I’m sure the men would have helped me if I had asked them, but I dreaded doing so, for they were now solemn and even more disgusting, having put on their shiny black top hats, a showy bit of finery for such a throng of gallowsmongers. I would have been happy to have Johanna at my side, for I wanted to cling to her. I had so often depended on her steadiness amid the pressing crush of people whenever we had to go into the city, where I, weak-kneed from nausea and dizziness, allowed myself to be steered through the clogged and swarming clumps of anxiety. Yet Johanna, though not seeming upset, was not ready to take my arm. Not once did she reach out to me, as if she had agreed with the men not to do so. She appeared braced to avoid any commotion, not wanting to escalate it through any show of sympathy. Since I
recognized many I knew among the crowd, I was shocked. I said hello to no one, nor did anyone greet me; instead, they regarded me with a peculiar mixture of mild contempt and indulging regard. I peered back at Johanna to see if she acknowledged anyone, but her demeanor remained unreadable. She seemed neither to care about the people nor to care about me, even when she cast a quick glance my way. I didn’t know if it was because there was such a crowd or because of the gloomy weather, but the sweet numbing stench from the sewers was especially heavy. The vapors wafted over us, containing the sadness of an entire city, such that tears ran from my eyes. I held my handkerchief to my nose, but only for a little while, for it attracted attention and made me look like a weakling. Johanna also smelled the terrible odors, but no one else seemed to notice.

The pallbearers, who pressed close to me, were unconcerned and only annoyed that people stood in our way. Luckily, Brian and Derek were especially tall and stood well above the others, especially with their tall hats on. And so they were able to make their way through, the crowd giving way to them without their needing any assistance from the police. Meanwhile, I would have been happy to talk with someone, be it even a little chat with Derek, though less so with Brian, if only to remove the suspicion that I was someone to be shunned, and whose removal was the only point of an otherwise miserable day. But the people around me were too shy to acknowledge my welcoming glances, while Derek and Brian didn’t even think of talking to me, either. They only kept a watchful eye on me, making sure that I made no sudden move, they not even speaking with each other except for the odd fleeting word here and there. As for striking up a conversation with Johanna, as was my right, I would have been glad to, but I somehow felt that might damage her reputation. I also didn’t want to cause her difficulty. So there was nothing left for me to do except silently make my way forward on my difficult path, step by step. This wasn’t that hard, for I felt alive. However, it was very clear that I was expected to die, the shyness with which I was greeted being stronger than any rampant curiosity that brazenly emerged from people’s glances and demeanors. There was the rustle of fall in the awful air, a column of smoke also arching aslant and heavy across the cold sky. I couldn’t tell if it came from the squat chimney near MacKenzie’s or from the crematorium farther off. It was not at all still, nor could
one expect that it would be, but no shouts or alarms of any kind were allowed, the onlookers only pale and tired, having slept badly the entire night; if I wasn’t mistaken, mild disappointment could be seen on their faces. A woman whom I thought I knew, having seen her often at Simmonds’s, accidentally bumped up against me, and it surprised me that she was carrying a full bag of groceries. Curious, I looked inside it and saw a lovely large head of cabbage.

“Good morning. What a lovely vegetable.”

“Unfortunately, it’s really just a balloon.”

I turned away and was annoyed that the woman was making fun of me. I looked around to see whether anyone had observed our exchange. No one seemed to have, but it didn’t matter, for I felt that everyone had turned against me. The crowd barely hid their joy over my disappearance. That was why it was good that we moved more easily ahead, step by step. Perhaps the police had given them a sign, but when I looked around I didn’t see them anywhere. There were a lot of people still in our way, but there was not such a crowd, the curious having given way, the thick swarm behind us not following along, but instead beginning to break up. Now we could walk faster, which made my legs feel good, me quietly thinking about what I would say to the director of the crematorium in order to get him to understand my situation.

“Director, you have to see that my time is not yet up. You’re too early, nor is it your job to read any weather map. I agree that it’s difficult, which is why I don’t resent the trouble you’ve gone to for me and my family. I don’t expect any kind of compensation, Lord knows, for a day lost is no tragedy, but I want to get this all cleared up. You think that my name is Arthur. How wrong you are! Indeed, I agree that I am called that as well. Here, underneath my photo, is my signature, and it says that in fact I am Arthur. But in reality I am called many things more. I have all the names that you could possibly think of, because I am called Adam. Please, don’t laugh, but I am the first man, the one who is still alive and who does not die. Once I was called, and I wanted to hide. But that was a long time ago. Now I will hide no longer. Therefore I stand before you. I have brought the ancient curse to the world. Yet that marks a great step forward, and you have me to thank for it. Just wait! Wait with me for the call! You will see that it’s for your own good.”

Thus I sketched out my speech and warmed to the clever ideas that occurred to me as a defense. Unfortunately, I couldn’t develop them any further, for we had come to a halt again. Near MacKenzie’s, the string of cars that rattled somewhat as they attempted to enter or leave would not yield. Vainly, Brian and Derek tried to get them to let us through. They waved their arms and shouted at the drivers, but there was no stopping them. Some even laughed openly at the pallbearers and honked their horns, letting loose a frightful din, my enraged escorts becoming angrier and shaking their fists. I couldn’t blame them for getting angry. But, finally, the noise was too much for a watchman at MacKenzie’s, for he produced a bright-red flag that he waved back and forth. That worked. The drivers braked, and we were able to cross the entrance. There was no longer anything standing in our way. The men walked quickly, for they wanted to make up the time lost. As an experienced walker, I could keep up with them, but for Johanna it was a challenge. She gasped for breath because she had to walk so fast, which was twice as hard for her, because she had put on shoes with higher heels than normal. Again, I would have been happy to take her by the arm in order to help her along. I think she would have accepted my offer, yet I hesitated, fearing that I would be rejected. Between us there was a wall, Johanna most likely going along with things in order to keep up appearances. It worried me that my wife no longer belonged to me, but since I had suffered such terrible separations many times over, I was patient. I looked at Johanna surreptitiously and remembered back. How might I have prevented all this from coming to pass?