Amerika (16 page)

Karl was also grateful to them for not commenting about the money as they marched on and for a moment even thought of divulging all his wealth, but he could not find an appropriate moment to do so. Toward evening they arrived in a more fertile rural district. All around they could see open fields, in their first burst of green, laying themselves over gentle hills, opulent country houses lining the road on each side; for hours they walked between the gilded railings of the gardens, crossing the same slow-flowing stream again and again and often hearing trains thundering by on the soaring viaducts.

Just as the sun was setting on the straight edge of the distant woods, they threw themselves down on a grass mound amid a little clump of trees in order to rest from their exertions. Delamarche and Robinson lay on the ground, stretching out as best they could; Karl sat up, gazing at the street a few meters below, where, as they had done all day, the automobiles continually rushed by in rapid succession, as if a precise number were being repeatedly dispatched from afar and an equal number lay in wait in another far-off place. All day, since early morning, Karl had not seen a single automobile stop nor a single passenger alight.

Robinson suggested spending the night there, since everyone was quite tired and this would enable them to march off that much earlier, and after all, between now and the onset of complete darkness they could scarcely find anything that was cheaper or better situated than this spot. Delamarche agreed, but Karl nonetheless felt obliged to add that he had sufficient money to pay for a night in a hotel for everyone. Delamarche said that they would need the money later and that Karl should keep it in a safe place. Delamarche did not make the slightest effort to conceal the fact that they were already counting on having Karl's money at their disposal. Now that his first suggestion had been accepted, Robinson announced that they would need a decent meal before going to bed so as to fortify themselves for the day ahead and that one of them should fetch everyone some food from the hotel, which was on the country road nearby and bore an illuminated sign with the words “Occidental Hotel.” Being the youngest, and since no one else had volunteered, Karl did not hesitate to offer his services and, after receiving orders for bacon, bread, and beer, went over into the hotel.

There must have been a big city close by, for the very first hall in the hotel that Karl entered was filled with a noisy crowd, and at the buffet, which ran down the length of one wall and across two side walls, numerous waiters constantly ran about with white aprons slung across their chests without quite succeeding in satisfying their impatient guests, for everywhere one could hear cursing and fists hitting the table. No one paid any attention to Karl; there was no table service in the hall itself; sitting in groups of three at tables so tiny as to be almost invisible, the guests fetched themselves everything they needed from the buffet. Standing on each little table was a large bottle of oil, vinegar, or the like, which they first poured over all the food that they had carried over from the buffet. If Karl attempted to reach the buffet—where, especially with such a large order, the real difficulties would probably begin—he would have to force his way between many tables, and even if he were as careful as possible, he could not do so without rudely disturbing the guests, who however endured everything with apparent indifference, even when a guest bumped Karl against a little table, which nearly got knocked over. Although he apologized, they evidently did not understand him; nor could he understand a single word they called out to him.

At the buffet he finally succeeded in finding a spot, where his view was momentarily blocked by the elbows that his neighbors kept propped up. Here it seemed customary to sit with your elbows propped up and your fists pressed against your temples; Karl could not help thinking of his Latin teacher Dr. Krumpal, who had hated that particular posture and who would always approach by stealth and in one painful sweeping motion, by means of a ruler that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, brush one's elbows off the table.

Karl stood tightly pressed against the buffet, for no sooner had he stood in line than a table was set up behind him, and whenever the guest seated there leaned back as he spoke, he brushed against Karl's back with his large hat. And yet there was so little hope of obtaining anything from the waiter, even after Karl's two plump neighbors had gone away happily. On several occasions Karl had reached across the table and seized a waiter by the apron, but each time the waiter had torn himself away with a grimace. Not a single one could be stopped—they simply ran and ran. If only there had been something suitable to eat and drink in Karl's vicinity, he would have taken it, asked the price, paid up, and left feeling very pleased. But all he saw were dishes full of herringlike fish with black scales, the edges of which shone like gold. Those could be very expensive and would surely not satisfy anybody. Besides, there were a few small bottles of rum within reach, but he did not want to take any rum back to his comrades, for already at every opportunity they went only for the most concentrated alcohol, and he did not wish to encourage them any further.

Karl therefore had no alternative but to seek another spot and to exert himself anew. But it was now very late. The clock at the other end of the hall, whose hands one could barely discern through the smoke, indicated that it was already after nine. But elsewhere at the buffet the crush was even greater than at his previous spot, which was a little out of the way. Besides, the later it got, the more crowded the hall became. New guests were continually entering through the main door, shouting hello. Several guests imperiously cleared off the buffet, sat down at the counter, raised their glasses, and drank to one another; those were the best places, for one could see out over the entire hall.

Although Karl continued to press ahead, all hope of achieving anything was gone. He even chided himself for volunteering for this errand, since he had no idea how things worked here. His companions would quite rightly give him a scolding and might even believe that he had returned empty-handed only so as to save money. He now found himself in an area where hot meat dishes garnished with beautiful yellow carrots were being eaten at the little tables, and he could not understand how those people had managed to procure this.

Then a few steps in front of him he saw an older woman, who clearly belonged to the hotel staff, talking and laughing with a guest. She fiddled about in her hair continually with a clip. Karl immediately decided to place his order with this woman, first because she was the only woman in the hall and seemed to him to stand apart from all the noise and commotion, and then for the simple reason that she was the only hotel employee within reach, assuming of course that she would not run off on some errand at the first word he said. But exactly the opposite happened. Karl, who had been eavesdropping, had not yet addressed her when she looked up at him and, interrupting what she was saying and using English that was as clear as a grammar book's, asked in a friendly voice if he was looking for something. “Yes indeed,” said Karl. “I can't get anything here.” “Then come along with me, little fellow,” she said; then she said goodbye to her acquaintance, who raised his hat, which seemed like an unbelievably polite gesture in these surroundings, and, taking Karl by the hand, went to the buffet, pushed aside a guest, opened a hinged door in the counter, and with Karl in tow, crossed the corridor behind the counter, where one had to watch out for the tirelessly circulating waiters, and opened a double door that had been covered with wallpaper, and now they found themselves in large cool pantries. “You simply have to know the mechanism,” Karl said to himself.

“So what do you want?” she asked, and in her eagerness to help she bent down toward him. She was very fat, with a body that was seesawing, but her face, at least in contrast, had almost delicate features. Seeing all the different kinds of food stacked so carefully on the shelves and tables, Karl was tempted to come up with an order for a more elegant dinner, especially since he could expect that this influential woman would serve him at no great expense, but in the end he could not think of anything suitable and merely asked for bacon, bread, and eggs. “Nothing else?” the woman asked. “No thanks,” said Karl, “but it's for three.” When the woman asked about the other two, Karl said a few words about his companions; being asked a few questions like this gave him pleasure.

“But that meal is fit only for convicts,” said the woman, clearly awaiting Karl's further wishes. But the latter, fearing she would give him everything as a present and would not want to accept any money, did not respond. “We'll put that together right away,” said the woman, and then, with astonishing agility given her girth, she approached a table, cut off a large piece of thick streaky bacon, picked up three bottles of beer from the floor, took a loaf of bread from a shelf, and put everything in a light straw basket, which she then handed to Karl. Meanwhile she told Karl that she had brought him into the pantries because, though the food items on the buffet were always consumed quickly, they always lost their freshness in the smoke and all the odors. But for these people out there anything would suffice. Karl now fell silent, for he had no idea what he had done to deserve such special treatment. He thought of his companions, who, however well they knew America, might not have penetrated to these pantries and would therefore have had to make do with the spoiled food on the buffet. One could not hear a sound from the hall; the walls must have been very thick to keep these vaults sufficiently cool. Karl had been holding the straw basket in his hand for a while, without thinking of paying and remaining quite still. Only when the woman tried to pick up another bottle, similar to those on the tables, and put it in the basket did he thank her. “Do you still have a long march ahead of you?” asked the woman. “To Butterford,” Karl answered. “That's still quite far,” the woman said. “Another day's worth,” said Karl. “That's all?” the woman asked. “Oh, no,” said Karl.

The woman straightened out several items on the table; a waiter entered, looked about for something, was directed toward a large dish covered with a heap of sardines sprinkled with parsley, and then carried the dish in his upraised hands out into the hall.

“But why do you want to sleep out in the open?” asked the woman. “We've enough room here. Sleep here with us in the hotel.” For Karl this was quite enticing, especially since he had just had such a bad night. “My luggage is still outside,” he said hesitantly and not without a certain vanity. “You need only bring it in,” said the woman, “that's no obstacle.” “But what about my companions!” said Karl, who quickly realized that they certainly were an obstacle. “They too may stay the night,” said the woman. “Come along! Don't make me beg.” “All in all my companions are decent fellows,” said Karl, “but they're not clean.” “Haven't you noticed the dirt in the hall?” the woman asked, screwing up her face. “Even the worst people can come to us. I shall therefore ask to have three beds made up at once. But it will only be in the attic, since the hotel is fully occupied; I myself have moved to the attic, but it's certainly better than being outdoors.” “I cannot bring my companions,” said Karl. He was imagining how much noise those two would make in the corridors of this elegant hotel, how Robinson would soil everything and how Delamarche would inevitably start pestering this woman. “I don't understand why it's so impossible,” the woman said, “but if that's what you wish, just leave your companions outdoors and come alone.” “It's impossible, quite impossible,” said Karl, “they're my companions, and I must stay with them.” “You're being so pig-headed,” the woman said, looking away, “one means well, wants to help you, and yet you resist with all your might.” Karl saw the truth in all of this but could not think of a solution and merely said: “I should like to thank you for your kindness,” but then, remembering that he had not yet paid, he asked how much he owed. “You needn't pay until you return my straw basket,” said the woman. “I need it by tomorrow morning at the latest.” “Thanks,” said Karl. She opened a door, which led directly outside, and as he bowed on his way out, she added: “Good night. You're not doing the right thing, though.” He had already gone a few paces when she called out: “See you tomorrow!”

He was barely outside when he heard the noise from the hall again, still as strong as ever but now interspersed with the sounds of a wind ensemble. He was glad he hadn't had to go through the hall on his way out. All five floors of the hotel were now lit up, brightening the full expanse of the street in front. There were still automobiles driving past, though no longer in a continuous line; looming up out of the distance faster than in the daytime, they probed the pavement with the white beams of their headlights, crossed the illuminated area around the hotel with paling headlights, and then, lighting up, rushed into the darkness beyond.

Karl found his companions already fast asleep; he had, however, stayed away too long. He was just about to spread out the items he had brought in an inviting fashion on some papers he had found in the basket, when to his consternation he saw that his trunk, which he had locked before leaving and the key to which was in his pocket, was open and half his belongings strewn on the grass. “Get up,” he cried. “You're still sleeping though thieves have been here.” “Well, is there anything missing?” asked Delamarche. Al though Robinson was not yet fully awake, he was already reaching for his beer. “That I don't know,” cried Karl, “but the trunk is open. Now that's really careless of you, to go to sleep and leave the trunk lying about like that.” Delamarche and Robinson both laughed, and the former said: “So next time maybe you shouldn't stay away so long. The hotel is only ten paces from here, yet it takes you three hours to get there and back. We were hungry, thought you might have something to eat in your trunk, and kept fiddling with the lock until it sprang open. In any case there was nothing inside, and you can calmly pack everything away again.” “Well,” said Karl, staring at the rapidly dwindling contents of the basket and listening to the odd sound Robinson produced as he drank, for the liquid first went far into his throat, shot back with a whistling sound, and only then in one great gush rolled down into the depths. “Had your fill,” he asked, as the two took a moment's break. “But haven't you eaten already at the hotel?” asked Delamarche, who believed that Karl was demanding his share. “Hurry up if you still want to eat,” said Karl, and walked over to his trunk. “Is he ever moody,” said Delamarche to Robinson. “I'm not moody,” said Karl, “but was it right to force open my trunk while I was away and to throw my belongings on the ground like that? I realize that there are some things one must simply tolerate among comrades, and I was prepared for that, but this is really going too far. I'll spend the night at the hotel and will not go to Butterford. Now eat up quickly—I must return the basket.” “You see, Robinson, that's how one should speak,” said Delamarche, “it's such a refined way of speaking. Of course, he is, after all, a German. You warned me about him a while back, but I was quite a fool and took him along. We placed our trust in him, dragged him along for an entire day, and as a result we lost at least half a day, and now—simply because someone at the hotel enticed him over there—he takes off, simply takes off.” “But being a two-faced German, rather than doing so openly, he comes up with that excuse about the trunk, and being a coarse German too, he cannot leave without calling us thieves and insulting our honor, simply because we played a little prank on him with his trunk.” Without turning around, Karl, who was packing his belongings, said: “If you go on talking like that, you'll simply make it easier for me to leave. I know what true companionship is. I had friends in Europe too, and none of them could reproach me for behaving in a false or nasty manner. We're no longer in touch, naturally enough, but if I ever go back to Europe, they'll receive me with open arms and recognize me right away as their friend. As for you, Delamarche, and you, Robinson, how could I possibly have betrayed you, since you were so kind as to take me on and hold out the prospect of an apprentice position in Butterford. But this is really about something else. You have nothing to your name, and though that doesn't in the least diminish you in my eyes, you begrudge me my few belongings and for this reason try to humiliate me; I cannot stand it. And now after having broken open my trunk, you don't offer me a word of apology, you even swear at me, then swear at my compatriots—which makes it impossible for me to stay with you. By the way, Robinson, this isn't about you. The only criticism I have of your character is that you're too dependent on Delamarche.” “Of course, we can now see,” said Delamarche, and approaching Karl, he gave him a little push, as if to make him pay attention, “of course, we can now see you showing your true colors. All day you ran around after me, held on to my coat, imitated my every movement, and for the rest were quiet as a little mouse. But now that you sense you have some backing at the hotel, you start holding forth in a big way. You're just a little smart aleck, and I'm still not sure whether we'll grin and bear this. Or whether we won't demand fees for the knowledge you've gained from watching us all day. Listen, Robinson, can you hear what he's saying, he's saying we envy him his possessions. In one day's work in Butterford—never mind California—we would earn ten times more than the sum you've shown us, in addition to whatever else you may have concealed in the lining of your coat. So watch your trap!” Having risen from the trunk, Karl caught sight of Robinson, who was still drowsy, though the beer had revived him a little. “If I were to stay much longer,” he said, “I might well experience further surprises. You seem to feel like beating me up.” “My patience is not unlimited,” said Robinson. “It would be better if you held your tongue, Robinson,” said Karl, without letting Delamarche out of his sight, “deep down you think I'm right but you have to act as if you were siding with Delamarche.” “Could you be trying to bribe him?” asked Delamarche. “Not at all,” said Karl, “I'm happy to be going away and don't want to have anything more to do with either of you. There's just one other thing I want to tell you; you chided me for having money and for hiding it from you. Assuming that is true, wasn't it the right way to deal with people whom I had known only for a couple of hours, and aren't you yourself confirming through your present conduct that I acted wisely.” “Don't move,” said Delamarche to Robinson, although the latter had not stirred. He then asked Karl: “Since you are so outrageously honest and since we're having such a cozy time together, why don't you be even more honest and own up to the real reason why you wanted to go to the hotel.” Karl had to step over the trunk since Delamarche was now so close. But refusing to be deterred, Delamarche pushed aside the trunk, advanced a pace, stepping on a white undershirt lying on the grass, and repeated his question.