The Wall (55 page)

“One never really knows such things, madam.”

“Oh, of course you know. You should know it, especially as a newly married man. And isn’t it true that the children are not much of a burden to you, either?”

“Madam, I only regret that I didn’t bring her with me.”

“You should regret it. Every moment is lost in which such a treasure is forsaken. Her refinement is written all over her face.”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s good that you agree, and that’s why you should not say anything wrong about such an angel. I know what she did for work. She gave it her all, but was always friendly, always pleasant. When the war was over, I went to her on behalf of my husband. How she put herself out to find any trace of my brother-in-law! Did she never tell you?”

“No, madam.”

“What, she never told you how desperately we wished to find out what had happened to my brother-in-law, Dr. Berthold Singule, the lawyer? I find that strange!”

“No, she really didn’t.”

“She didn’t say a word, but how hard she tried! Nothing but humility, especially if she didn’t say anything! She went down a hundred different paths for us, calling every Tom, Dick, and Harry she could think of, as one says, and lots more. She did nothing less than move heaven and earth. And she never told you that?”

“No, madam.”

“Well, then! But that’s so dignified of her, one sees that—such discretion,
and then, because she doesn’t wish to bother anyone, not even her own husband!”

“I only know what she did in general.”

“Yes, that’s what I said! She’s so refined! She spares her husband such things! And that’s why one shouldn’t burden her. She’s had enough trouble already. Perhaps you don’t know, but not only did her parents die over there; she also lost a brother here. Such misfortune—both brothers!”

“I know, madam.”

“Good that you at least know that. But to have to carry such responsibility, how terrible! You must be thinking about it all the time. You should create a paradise on earth for her!”

“That’s hard to do, very hard.”

“Of course it’s hard. Why shouldn’t it be? Nothing comes from nothing. Which is why you have to work for it. What you want is what you get.”

“Do you think so?”

“And do I! But you just have to work for it.”

“That’s true, but one also needs help.”

“We’re here for that—myself and, above all, my husband. If he only had time. He never has time. He’s already left again just now. It’s terrible!”

“So I won’t have a chance to meet him?”

“Just because you don’t know him, don’t worry! He’ll stand by what he promised. He’s only gone off a short ways. Just a couple houses down. He knows that you’re coming. He’ll receive you. Certainly. I have promised Frau Haarburger that it would happen. How lucky to have such a friend! She adores you! And Dr. Haarburger as well. The talent you have. You’re indeed a self-made man. You would agree. And then there’s my husband. He’s so mellow and ready for anything. Only one can’t do it all. Which is why I always advise, you should arrange something practical.”

“But you believe—”

“Of course, if only he can. Just imagine what is asked of him. He simply can’t do everything.”

“But you see possibilities?”

“Certainly, Herr Landau. There are possibilities. One only has to find them. But normally it’s hard to, and then everything is in vain. I tell you—It looks like my husband is here. Indeed he is, or would seem to be. E-du-ard. E-du-ard! Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here, Klara.”

I was greeted courteously.

“How happy I am to make your acquaintance, Dr. Singule.”

“Singule, just Singule, Herr Landau. I am indeed a doctor, but it’s not customary to use it here. Just the last name.”

“I’ve been told that’s the way to address doctors. And you are indeed a doctor of medicine?”

“Correct, but I don’t practice it. I’m a biologist—particularly bugs, vermin. Unfortunately, I have too little time for it. I have too many other responsibilities.”

“But it’s your main interest?”

“Actually, yes. I’m really fascinated by mites. Do you know anything about them?”

“Only from what I’ve heard, Doctor.”

“Please, Singule! Make a note of it! There are as many doctors as there is sand at the beach, but we are the only Singules in the city. The name was never that common, and today it has almost disappeared.”

“You two need to talk shop. Wouldn’t it be best, Eduard, if you took Herr Landau across the way. You both have a lot to talk about, and I’ll arrange for some tea for you.”

Herr Singule agreed, and I followed him to his study. For some minutes, the conversation ranged through different subjects; I didn’t have the nerve or the drive to turn the talk to my concerns. So the talk flowed on until the biologist surprised me with an unexpected question.

“Tell me, are you from Latvia, perhaps Riga?”

“No.”

“Too bad. You should be from Latvia.”

“Is it because of my accent?”

“It has nothing to do with your accent. I need someone from Latvia.”

“To my great sadness, I have never been there.”

“And your wife?”

“She’s from Vienna.”

“That’s too bad. That doesn’t help us at all.”

“Why does it have to be Latvia, Herr Singule?”

“I need someone from Latvia. Your parents, your ancestors, anyone in the family?”

“None from Latvia.”

“I had hoped for that especially for you, Herr Landau. It would have done well by you. I have something to give to someone from Latvia. A terrific assignment that will last at least a year, and with the possibility of an extension.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You don’t even need to know the language. Just Latvia.”

“How nice of you to think of me.”

“One tries, my friend, one tries the best one can.”

“But hopefully you might find something else for me. I’m working, as perhaps you’ve already heard, primarily on a sociology of—”

“My wife already told me everything, as well as Haarburger. I’m well informed.”

“Good. And therefore I wondered if there might not be a way to consider a proposal—”

“You can make a proposal anytime. You’re completely free to do so. You don’t even have to come to my office; I can give you the form right now.”

“Thank you. And might I expect, if you recommend it, that I—”

“You didn’t let me finish talking. The form and the proposal don’t do anything for you. Nor can I recommend anything, even if I have the chance. And yet it must be approved, and there’s the rub.”

“Don’t you decide?”

“Oh, I decide a great deal. Without me, no one in Europe gets anything. But I have to be able to answer for it, and I cannot decide everything. My dear friend, what are you thinking? I’m a poor man; the money doesn’t come from my pockets. Yes, if you were from Latvia that would be fine, for then I have something, then I can do something. But alas!”

“Anything in my line of work?”

“Not immediately. But do you think I can really support a line of work? Not at all!”

“Then you have nothing to recommend to me?”

“For sociologists I have nothing. Certainly not at the moment. You can certainly apply, that I already told you. And I will see what can be done, though it’s not up to me. Most of what we give is to natural science. Physics, chemistry, biology, geology and the rest. Otherwise, only when we get
special assignments. They are very popular, and everyone goes after them, and then we choose someone.”

“Will you think of me if something comes up?”

“With great pleasure. It would be an honor.”

“And in between?”

“Take the forms with you! Have a look at them! Don’t skip any questions, fill out everything scrupulously! It will all be reviewed. A lot depends on the accompanying documents. You need six copies of everything; photocopies of documents are allowed.”

“I’m missing many papers. The war. I lost so much.”

“How terrible! You have to have the proper documents! Couldn’t you order copies from over there?”

“That would be very difficult—in fact, I fear, impossible.”

“Well, my dear friend, how you take care of that is your business. I really can’t be of any help to you! Somehow you’ll have to pull a rabbit out of your hat. You’ll need them everywhere, and not just for our foundation. Just imagine, if no one had any papers, how much crime could happen! Without documents, I’m telling you, you don’t even exist.”

“I don’t exist, Herr Singule. With that, you’ve touched on the truth.”

“Go on, enough of this romantic nonsense! What you need to do, if I may, is simply sit on your behind and write. That’s not so hard, is it?”

“I write a great deal! But it’s all in vain.”

“In vain.… Do you need me to say something crass! What talk! Do what you have to do and write every Tom, Dick, and Harry, if need be, until you get those documents! If there’s no other way, make a quick trip and take care of matters in person. They’ll give you those documents or a proper copy—it’s child’s play. When you have everything together, then concentrate on a curriculum vitae.”

“A résumé?”

“Yes, a vitae. Don’t you know Latin?”

“Of course.”

“Then do it!”

“What I don’t know is what to say. Everything escapes me. The entire past …”

“Toss such sentimentality to the devil! What you experienced is of interest
to no one at all. Just what you’ve done, a real résumé—education, dates, important events and achievements. That’s all. And when you have that, then work on a thorough synopsis of your planned project. That’s easy, right?”

“I hope so.”

“Enough with such resistance! And submit a sample chapter as well.”

“Happy to.”

“It doesn’t need to be long. In fact, it’s better if it’s short, for you don’t have much time. They will only look at it and nothing else.”

“I understand, Doctor.”

“And get rid of the title! Are you so scatterbrained that you can’t remember that? And then the most important part—you need three, better yet, four or five references. Why do you look at me like that? Is there something else wrong?”

“No, no! But what kind of references?”

“Recommendations from internationally recognized figures, if possible from your special area, if possible from this country or America, if possible with attestations of your previous achievements and the likely scholarly worth of the planned project.”

“In all honesty, I doubt I can manage all that.”

“My dear friend, I’ve never met an applicant as difficult as you! If I didn’t like you so much, such talk by now would have forced me to throw you out.”

“Shall I leave?”

“Don’t be silly! And don’t be so sensitive! You can surely find a couple of sociologists to befriend, can’t you?”

“I should be so lucky!”

“Think for a minute. Do you know Professor Kratzenstein?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent! Then it’s done. He’s as good as having two or three!”

“If he will write something for me.”

“Oh, you’re such a pessimist! Just get on the bus tomorrow and go see him. Or, better yet, call him. Do you know his secretary?”

“Frau Fixler?”

“Well, then, excellent! You know everything you need to already! Put
together a text tonight, go to Frau Fixler, explain the situation to her and that the Professor should sign it, and then next day just swing by and pick it up! That’s how it’s done. Quite simple. And who else do you know?”

“Not many. Dr. So-and-So.”

“Who?”

“Forgive me, Dr. Leonard Kauders.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a docent in the history of economics, and the author of the book
Work and Climate
.”

“Never heard of it. It must be recent.”

“You know Kauders, don’t you?”

“I know thousands of people, my dear friend!”

“He did some work for you once.”

“There are hundreds who have! I can’t remember them all.”

“A consideration of the social themes in Russian literature—”

“Is he from Latvia?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Then nothing can be done.”

“I could get a recommendation from Kauders.”

“Better to let that go! You need names, names! But if you know Kratzenstein so well, then I wonder why you don’t simply go to him—”

Frau Singule interrupted this sentence with her entrance, laughing at us, pleased with how lively we talked with each other, and led us in to tea. The time dragged on, growing ever more unedifying. Dr. Singule complained about the shortage of good insect specialists, for whom he would pave the streets with gold, he being an external consultant to the firm Insecta, the biggest special concern in the area in the entire country, and Insecta had advertised to no avail for a good biologist. Things kept on like this until I excused myself for a moment. Afterward, the lady of the house was much cooler toward me. She set about to inform me that, unfortunately, her husband’s hands were tied, the American foundation had very firm guidelines, one could not support proposals that fell outside the parameters that would be granted a stipend, no matter how much one might wish to do so. That was really too bad, especially in my case, since I have such a delightful wife, whom one can only wish the best for, but in the end the foundation is
not the only place in the world that should appeal to me; on the contrary, elsewhere there might be much better prospects, such as through Professor Kratzenstein, it being good that I had access to him, while Frau Singule would make sure to put in a good word with him in the name of her husband the next chance she got. I prepared to leave, for Singule was out of time and had a pressing engagement, and Frau Singule wanted to accompany him. And yet I couldn’t just run off, for the lady of the house surprised me with a gift that she pulled out of a table drawer. It was a bar of milk chocolate; Frau Singule didn’t have anything more suitable in the house, but Johanna was so slight and needed to eat something restorative, and a little bit of chocolate would no doubt please her. Then the biologist asked me if he could give me a lift in his car, but I declined, and thanked him for the lovely afternoon as I left with the request from Singule to ask around to see if I could find anyone from Latvia, as well as effusive good wishes for my well-being.