Authors: H. G. Adler
“When will all this happen?”
“Whenever you would like, but if I could ask on our behalf, then as soon as possible.”
At this Johanna walked in, wanting to see what was taking me so long, but when she saw the pallbearers her annoyance at my dallying seemed to disappear.
“Good morning, gentlemen. To what do we owe the pleasure of this early visit today?”
The men felt relieved to see my wife, greeting her and talking to her
kindly. One could tell that they were deeply afraid that I would turn down the invitation to the Sociology Conference. That’s why they made every effort to win Johanna’s sympathies. She was at least as amazed as I was, though she recovered her footing much more quickly. She didn’t give off any sense of mistrust but, on the contrary, behaved as if things were fine for me. Then we agreed that we probably needed to hurry, but we didn’t want to rush things, and, to the pallbearers’ delight, which far exceeded that of the driver, I agreed to take my place on the coffin for the drive. As soon as I said I was ready, they vied with one another to make me happy, continually asking me what I wanted during the journey. Finally, I waved away all their niceties with both hands, it having become too much. Before that caused them to despair, Johanna had the good idea to invite them to breakfast. Charmed, they accepted the invitation and promised this time not to stuff any food or silverware into their pockets.
Pleased, the guests came along with us, bowing to Anna and warmly greeting the children, who were not the least bit afraid of them. Derek remarked attentively how beautifully they had grown and developed. Places were quickly set for the three men, and still more hearty items were brought out so that we could all fortify ourselves. Oddly, I was satisfied with everything, my strong animosity, which I at least felt toward Brian, having melted away, since he had tried as best he could to soften his nature and to be friendly to the good-natured Derek, who seemed to be very interested in Anna, though he also joked around with Eva, who couldn’t take her eyes off him. Meanwhile, Jock was entirely engaged by our Michael, who was proud to impress an actual charioteer with his knowledge and asked him about a hundred different things. Jock was a bit at a loss when Michael wanted to know whether a hearse was built differently from a normal car. Then the boy turned to his mother and asked pleadingly whether, in addition to the good two dozen toy cars he already owned, he could soon add a beautiful black hearse, complete with glass windows. Jock saved Johanna the effort of having to explain that such toys did not exist, because a good child didn’t think about death, but how nice it would be to have other cars, such as a fire truck with a pump and a ladder. In this way, the children were happily distracted and gave Johanna and me time to discuss what we needed to with Brian. He had no trouble at all with the idea that after breakfast I
would put on my best suit. He also happily assented when Johanna asked if she could attend my special day. He recommended that she put on her best dress, something becoming. She suggested that she could ride with me in the hearse, whether it be next to the coffin or along with me on top of it. Again, it became apparent that the men were to follow my orders, because Brian stated courteously that I, and I alone, could say. While it didn’t fall within the purview of his assignment to say so, he thought it was not a good solution, for though the coffin was indeed solid and would not collapse under the weight, the flowers and wreaths might suffer, and that would be deplorable. In addition, in his twenty-five years of service as a pallbearer he could not recall a wife’s ever having been in a hearse who was not already dead, and therefore such a thing had never been heard of before. After some consideration, we had to respect these arrangements.
Brian explained how near we were to Shepherd’s Field, and that it would be easy for my wife to walk there and have Anna accompany her. If the two women left in time, they would have the chance to see me arrive and be witnesses to the certainly ample welcome that awaited me. But I couldn’t stand to have Johanna walk while I rode. Which is why I had to figure out a suitable means of transportation for the women. Someone recommended a taxi, but Johanna remembered that sometimes you had to wait half an hour on the telephone, only to have one not show up. She therefore had a better idea. The Simmondses, who ran the vegetable stand around the corner, were pleasant people whose large delivery truck stood idle in the morning hours at the start of West Park Row. Johanna could speak to Mrs. Simmonds right after breakfast to see if her husband might be prepared to take them the short way to Shepherd’s Field. The idea seemed to me excellent.
The bigger worry was what we should do with the children. Perhaps I should quickly take them to school and kindergarten, but Johanna was against this; we should not be celebrating while the children had a normal day of work at school. Brian looked at her gratefully and said with admiration that she was a good mother; one could see straightaway that she had all it took to provide the children with a good upbringing. Then she suggested that perhaps Michael and Eva could be left with Mrs. Stonewood or Mrs. Byrdwhistle, but they would be bored there, because the children of these women would be in school; it was a bad idea. Then I came up with the
solution. If Mr. Simmonds would let us use his truck, there would certainly be enough room to take the children as well. Brian congratulated me and passed on to the father the very same compliments that he had just made to the mother.
Thus everything was settled as to what needed to happen next. Anna took it upon herself to dress up the children, who romped about in excitement. Johanna hurried over to the Simmondses’, while I left the three men to smoke and talk among themselves as I hurried off to put on my best suit. Then I walked into my study in order to watch for Johanna’s return from the window. Then she was there, a quick look convincing me that she had met with success at the Simmondses’, and, sure enough, there followed right behind her a powerful vegetable truck that pulled up right behind the hearse. I also saw how the Simmondses got out leisurely and the two of them stood on the sidewalk next to their truck. Somewhat breathless, Johanna hurried in to say to me that the merchant had been somewhat impressed by the request and had closed his shop, Mrs. Simmonds in no way wanting to miss the excitement. When I looked out to the street again, I saw that quite a number of people had gathered, though it was not a deafening crowd as when I was supposed to go to the crematorium. Michael and Eva yelled, wanting to run out of the house, but Anna held them back, wishing to prevent too big of a scene. Johanna rushed back and forth in the house, as would any proper housewife before a family outing. Shepherd’s Field—at the sound of that the children could hardly contain themselves, as for them it meant the fun of the annual fair. I didn’t have the heart to smash these expectations. The idea of holding a conference under the open sky struck me as a bit austere, but hopefully they had put up a large tent, as one would use for a circus, as well as taken care to put in a stand for refreshments, so that the children wouldn’t be too disappointed.
Finally, we were all ready and left the house. On the street a number of curious people had gathered, but far fewer than I had feared. The neighbors, however, were all there and looked on—that’s the only way to put it—with deep respect. I didn’t trust my eyes and tried to find any hint of mockery in the faces of familiar ones and strangers, or any other sign of misguided feeling, but there was not a trace of it to be found. On the contrary, they wished us well with obvious warmth and seemed proud of us, Mrs. Byrdwhistle
holding back tears of joy. The ones farther off waved at us, while across in the apartment house a number stood at their windows waving handkerchiefs and little flags. I was pleased to also find there the two women with the cat that walked along the ledge.
Meanwhile, Mr. Simmonds had opened the back of his old truck and covered the flooring with many layers of newspaper, while his wife vainly basked in her fame in playing an important role at a civic event. I no longer know just how it came about, but before long Mrs. Stonewood and Mrs. Byrdwhistle and their children, as well as some other people from the neighborhood, had climbed into the vegetable truck, the delighted Eva having already been lifted up, while Michael boyishly couldn’t hold back and ignored all his mother’s urgings to such a degree that he got his jacket and pants dirty. Even Anna had nimbly swung herself up into the truck. Only Johanna remained next to me and waited there, not knowing what to do. Then came Jock, who stretched out a hand and assured us that he would drive carefully, he knew what this day meant. He then sat before his steering wheel, and next to him sat the old man, who, as before, didn’t care about anything that was going on around him, and still looked familiar to me, though I couldn’t place him.
Derek busied himself in the back of the hearse, fiddling with the flowers; he might even have shoved the coffin around a bit, but I might have imagined that. I realized that I shouldn’t wait much longer, even if Brian was the model of politeness and wouldn’t make the least effort to remind me to hurry. He placed himself next to Johanna and me like an old member of the family, his motions becoming more and more refined, none of them seeming at all vulgar or common, as I had felt his earlier demeanor to be. The truth was that his face possessed a mixture of noble seriousness, fatherly reserve, kind apology, and something unusual that deeply affected me. I would have been happy to shake his hand and press it in gratitude, but I didn’t think it at all fitting, this kind of open bond not being the least proper to our different positions, and so I was satisfied with sharing a secret meeting of the minds between us. No matter how much I tried to resist, I couldn’t help having the impression that I was standing face to face with my father, a younger version of my father, indeed, but nonetheless him, to whom I owed all honor. The man had given this impression so strongly that
I could feel my father within me. I didn’t want that to go on for too long, so I told Johanna to join the others in the vegetable truck. She squeezed my hand silently, laughed at me, and went off.
Now all that was left was to get in with Brian; I didn’t want to waste another minute, but I was too shy to step into the hearse ahead of my companion, not so much because I was the main person of concern as because I couldn’t help seeing my father, to whom the greater honor was due, in this man. I knew that it was all up to me, and I had to decide and make my wishes known that Brian should step in first. However, I didn’t want to use words and had only to think it in order to choose. Then it was made clear to me that I had to make the sacrifice and be the first. I pointed a finger at the hearse, and Brian nodded. And so I went, my father following me with an assured gravity; I sensed the almost soundless sureness of his step landing large and meaningful around me like a protective coat. At the running board I took hold of Derek’s helping hand, and was struck by how much easier it was than I’d thought it would be to climb into the mighty glass cabinet of the hearse.
Brian had not helped me, he feeling certain that all was okay, and the fact that he was behind me was all that mattered. I tried to take my place atop the coffin, but that was not so easy. Coffins are meant to be lain in, not to be sat upon, and certainly not with legs straddling either side. I bemoaned my clumsiness and wanted to ask Derek if I couldn’t sit on the coffin sidesaddle. I could do that, it was within my rights, but again I had to think of Brian and his words; I mustn’t disappoint his pure humanity. No matter how much I wanted things my way, I couldn’t have them. I was dependent on others; I was connected to them and had to do what was expected of me. It had come to be true that, to whatever extent my doubt in existence could be dissolved, something essential was attained, and I was stretched between these two extremes. Thus the most uncomfortable seat was good enough for me, the grace of life sitting upon a shrine of death within the vehicle of death.
The flowers in front of and behind me were painfully pressing against one another with their coolly swirling scents, but there was nothing I could do, some of them being askew, many of them squished. I felt bad and complained, looking apologetically at Derek and his now less telling face, while I didn’t dare turn to Brian. But now, at last, I was sitting, it being hard and
painful at the same time, the ridges of the coffin cutting into my thighs. I only hoped that the drive would soon start and soon end. My friends touchingly made the effort to push me into the middle of my saddle, but they didn’t succeed entirely, no matter how much I tried to advise them of the best way to go about it. Finally they gave up trying to jockey me into the best spot, probably feeling sorry for me or sorry for themselves. So they left me to it, closed the glass doors, at which I heard further sounds whose meaning I couldn’t quite make out, though likely they had to do with the folding up of the steps used to climb in and the turning of the lock. Then the pallbearers got in. Derek was to my left, while Brian was to my right. I wasn’t feeling all that good, though the moment felt like the evening of a sacred day of rest, rather than like the morning of a weekday. I whispered the words of a prayer that was appropriate to it:
“Our Lord and the Lord of our Fathers, be pleased with our rest, bless us with Your commandments and allow us to know Your teaching. Satiate us with Your goodness, gladden us with Your salvation and purify our hearts, so that we may serve You in truth.”
I had not completed this sentence before Brian knocked on the window that separated the glass cabinet from the driver, as Jock acknowledged the signal. Then I heard the motor start up, and soon we were off. I would have fallen over if my helpers had not taken mercy on me. I would have been happy to lock arms with them and give up, though I had to settle for the quiet support they extended. I would also have liked to look out at the people on the street, though given the way I had to crouch, there was no way of doing so without bending over dangerously, besides which I was too tense and wanted nothing else but a fast and happy end to the journey.