Amerika (29 page)

“Heh, Robinson,” said Karl, “it's really an onerous service. You've recommended me for such a splendid post!”

“Don't worry,” said Robinson, and, closing his eyes, he shook his head to fend off any possible worries Karl might have, “the post also has advantages that no other post could possibly offer. You're always in the presence of a great lady, Brunelda, and sometimes even get to sleep in the same room, which, as you can imagine, can be quite agreeable. You'll receive lavish pay, there's plenty of money; as a friend of Delamarche's I received nothing, aside from the money Brunelda chose to give me whenever I went out, but you'll naturally get paid, like any other servant. And of course that is indeed what you are. But most important for you, I'll make the post easy for you. Of course, at first I won't do a thing so that I can recover, but then once I've recovered even just a little, you can rely on me. Now the task of caring for Brunelda—in other words, cutting her hair and dressing her—I'll generally reserve for myself insofar as Delamarche hasn't already seen to that. You'll be responsible for tidying up the room, shopping, and the heavier domestic chores.”

“No, Robinson,” said Karl, “I find all of that most un appealing.”

“Don't be stupid, Rossmann,” said Robinson, who was now very close to Karl's face, “don't throw away this wonderful opportunity. Where would you get another post right away? Who knows you? Whom do you know? Take us two, men who've been through a great deal and have a considerable amount of experience; we ran around for weeks without finding work. It is not easy, it's even desperately difficult.”

Karl nodded, marveling at how sensibly Robinson could speak. But this advice didn't apply to him for he oughtn't to stay; somewhere in the big city he could find a lowly position somewhere for—and he knew this for certain—every single tavern was full all night, they needed servants to take care of the guests, and of course he had some experience at that and would surely have no difficulty fitting quickly and inconspicuously into some outfit or other. In fact, down below in the building opposite was a small tavern from which one could hear the fleeting sound of music. The main entrance was covered only by a big yellow curtain that was occasionally lifted up by a gust of wind and fluttered about on the street. Otherwise, the street had become much quieter. Most of the balconies were dark; one could see only a solitary light here and there in the darkness, but no sooner had one fixed one's gaze upon it than the people who sat there rose, and as they pressed back into the apartment, a man who had remained behind on the balcony reached for the lightbulb and, after glancing down at the street, turned off the light.

“It's almost nighttime,” Karl said to himself, “if I stay any longer, I'll become one of them.” He turned around to pull aside the curtain on the door into the apartment. “What do you want?” said Robinson, positioning himself between Karl and the curtain. “I'm trying to get away,” said Karl, “leave me alone, leave me alone!” “But you hardly want to disturb them,” cried Robinson, “what do you think you're doing?” And he put his arms around Karl's neck, hung on to him with his entire weight, and locking his legs around Karl's, pulled him quickly to the ground. However, during his time among the elevator boys, Karl had picked up a few fighting skills, so he was able to shove his fist under Robinson's chin, though not too hard and with great restraint. Showing no consideration whatsoever, the latter kneed Karl quickly and sharply in the stomach, then put both hands on his chin and began to howl so loudly that a man on the neighboring balcony clapped his hands wildly, demanding, “Silence.” Karl lay there quietly for a moment so as to recover from the pain caused by Robinson's blow. He simply turned his face toward the curtain, which hung calmly and heavily in front of the evidently dark room. The room now seemed empty; perhaps Delamarche had gone out with Brunelda and Karl was therefore completely free now. So he must indeed have shaken off Robinson, who was really acting like a watchdog.

Then from afar, by way of the street, came the sounds of drums and trumpets as if in bursts. The scattered cries of numerous people soon merged into one general shout. Karl turned his head and saw that all of the balconies were becoming animated again. Slowly he rose, for he could not lift himself up completely and had to lean heavily against the balustrade. Upon the pavements below young fellows strode along, arms stretched out, caps in upraised hands, faces looking back. The thoroughfare was still empty. A few figures waved tall poles with lamps shrouded in a yellowish smoke. Just then deep rows of drummers and trumpeters stepped into the light, and Karl was astonished these were so numerous; then he heard voices behind him, turned around, and first saw Delamarche raise the heavy curtain, then Brunelda step out from the darkness of the room wearing her red dress, a lace wrap around her shoulders, and a small dark cap over her hair, which was probably not yet coiffed and had merely been gathered up with the ends peeking out here and there. In her hand she held a small open fan, but did not move it, pressing it against her body instead.

Karl pushed his way through along the side of the balcony so as to make room for them both. Nobody would force him to stay, that's for sure, and even if Delamarche should try, Brunelda would upon Karl's request dismiss him at once. She certainly couldn't stand him; his eyes frightened her. But no sooner had he taken a step toward the door than she noticed him and said: “Wait, little one, where are you off to?” Karl faltered under Delamarche's severe gaze, and Brunelda drew him toward herself. “But don't you want to look at the parade down below?” she said, pushing him in front of her toward the balustrade. “Do you know what's going on?” Karl could hear her say behind his back, and he moved aside involuntarily in an unsuccessful attempt to free himself from the pressure she was exerting. Sadly he gazed down at the road, as if the reason for his sadness lay there.

At first Delamarche stood behind Brunelda with his arms crossed, and then he ran into the room and brought out opera glasses for Brunelda. Below, behind the musicians, the main section of the parade had appeared. Seated on the shoulders of an enormous man was a gentleman of whom all one could see from this height was a faintly glistening bald spot and a top hat perpetually raised in greeting. All around him people carried wooden signs that seemed completely white—at least as seen from the balcony; the signs were set up in such a way that they were literally leaning on the gentleman, who towered up in their midst. Since everything was moving, the wall of signs was continually loosening up and continually arranging itself anew. The gentleman's supporters surrounded him, filling the entire width of the street—but only for a relatively short distance, at least insofar as one could make out in the dark—all of them clapped their hands and probably proclaimed his name in a rhythmic chant, which, however, was short and quite incomprehensible. Cleverly scattered about in the crowd, several of them carried car lamps with extremely strong lights, which they slowly trained up and down the houses along both sides of the street. At Karl's height the light was no longer bothersome, but one could see the people on the lower balconies that it had briefly illuminated putting their hands over their eyes.

At Brunelda's request Delamarche asked the people on the neighboring balcony to explain the significance of the event. Karl was a little curious to find out if those people would answer and what they would say. And Delamarche had to ask three times, without once receiving an answer. He leaned over the balustrade quite perilously as Brunelda stamped her foot lightly in irritation at her neighbors; Karl could feel the pressure of her knee. At last they gave an answer of sorts, but just then everybody on the packed balcony began to laugh out loud. Whereupon Delamarche shouted out something so loudly that if there hadn't been so much noise coming from the street, everybody would have stopped and listened in astonishment. At any rate it caused the laughter to subside unnaturally fast.

“There's an election for a judge in our district tomorrow, and that fellow being carried about down there is a candidate,” said Delamarche, and having completely regained his composure, he went back over to Brunelda. “No!” he cried, clapping Brunelda affectionately on the back. “We have no idea anymore about what's happening in the world.”

“Delamarche,” said Brunelda, returning to the conduct of their neighbors, “I'd be so happy to move if it weren't so exhausting. But unfortunately, I don't think I could handle it.” Clearly agitated and distracted, and sighing heavily, Brunelda nestled up against Karl's shirt while Karl tried as inconspicuously as possible to push aside those fat little hands, which he managed to do quite easily since Brunelda was not thinking about him; her thoughts were elsewhere.

However, before long Karl too forgot about Brunelda and endured the weight of her arms on his shoulders, for he was captivated by the events taking place on the street. Upon a command from a small group of gesticulating men—who marched just ahead of the candidate and whose conversations must have been particularly important, for one could see rapt faces craning toward them from all sides—the procession halted unexpectedly in front of the tavern. Raising his hand, one of the pacesetters signaled to the crowd as well as to the candidate. The crowd fell silent, and the candidate, who repeatedly tried to stand on the shoulders of his carrier, only to fall back several times onto his chair, gave a brief speech, in the course of which he waved about his top hat at lightning speed. This was quite visible since all of the car lamps were directed at him, and he was therefore at the center of a brightly illumined star.

One could see, however, that the entire street was now beginning to take an interest in this affair. On the balconies occupied by members of the candidate's party, everybody began to shout out his name, and their hands, which hung far out over the balustrades, began to clap like machines. On the other balconies, which were in fact in the majority, there arose a powerful countersong that, however, failed to produce a coherent effect, since the people singing were supporters of different candidates. Still, all the enemies of the present candidate came together in a general round of whistling, and one could even hear numerous gramophones being switched on again. Between the balconies political arguments erupted that were all the more intense given the lateness of the hour. Most people were still in their nightclothes and had simply thrown robes about them, the women having covered themselves with great dark cloths; the unsupervised children climbed up alarmingly on the frames of the balconies and emerged in ever greater numbers from the dark rooms in which they had already been asleep. Now and then unrecognizable objects were flung by a few especially overheated individuals at their opponents, sometimes they reached their target, but mostly they fell on the street, where they often triggered howls of anger. Whenever the clamor became too much for the leading personages below, they instructed the drummers and trumpeters to intervene, and the interminable crushing sound that they produced with all their might suppressed all the human voices up to the roofs of the buildings. And then always quite suddenly—this was hard to believe—they would stop, and the crowd, which had obviously been well trained precisely with this purpose in mind, would bawl out the party anthem in the momentary hush—one could see each person's mouth opening wide in the light from the car lamps—at which point their opponents, who had meanwhile regained their composure, would shout out ten times louder from all of the balconies and windows, thereby—at least insofar as one could tell from this height—reducing the party below, after its short-lived victory, to silence.

“How do you like it, little fellow?” asked Brunelda, who moved back and forth, squeezing up against Karl so that she could get the best possible view with the opera glasses. Karl responded merely with a nod. He noticed too that Robinson was zealously communicating several matters to Delamarche, obviously concerning Karl's behavior, but Delamarche seemed to consider them insignificant, for he kept trying to push Robinson aside with his left hand, while embracing Brunelda with his right. “Don't you want to look through the glasses?” asked Brunelda, tapping Karl on the chest to indicate that she was addressing him.

“I can see well enough,” said Karl.

“Do try them,” she said, “you'll see better.”

“I've good eyes,” Karl answered, “I can see everything.” When she brought the glasses close to his eyes, he felt that this was not so much kindness as an intrusion on her part, and indeed she said only one word, “Here!” in a melodious but also rather threatening manner. Karl already held the glasses to his eyes and could not in fact see anything.

“I can't see anything,” he said, and tried to get rid of the glasses, but she held them tight, and in any case he could not push his head, which was embedded on her breast, back or even to the side.

“But you can see now,” she said, twisting the knob on the glasses.

“No, I still can't see anything,” said Karl, and he thought of how he had quite inadvertently relieved Robinson of a burden, for he himself had now become the target of Brunelda's insufferable moods.

“When will you finally be able to see,” she said—Karl now found his entire face suffused with her heavy breath—and continued to twist the knob. “Now?” she asked.

“No, no, no!” cried Karl, even though he could in fact make out everything, if only indistinctly. But at that moment Brunelda was preoccupied with Delamarche; she held the glasses loosely in front of Karl's face, and so, without her noticing, Karl could look down under the glasses at the street below. After that she no longer insisted on having her way and used the glasses herself.

From the tavern below a waiter had appeared and now rushed back and forth across the threshold, taking orders from the leaders. One could see how he leaned over to obtain a view of the interior of the inn and summon as many servants as possible. Throughout these preparations for a great round of free drinks, the candidate evidently did not cease speaking. After every few sentences his carrier, the huge man whose sole task was to serve only him, always turned around slightly so that the candidate's speech could reach each section of the crowd. The candidate generally stayed hunched up and sought, by means of jerky movements of his free hand and top hat, to lend the greatest possible urgency to his statements. But every now and then, and indeed at regular intervals, he became captivated by an idea and rose, arms outstretched; at such moments he addressed not one particular group but rather the entire gathering; he spoke to the residents of the houses all the way up to the top floors, although it was quite clear that nobody, even on the lowest floors, could hear him, and that nobody would have wanted to listen to him had this been possible, for there was at least one speaker at each window and on each balcony, shouting at the top of his voice. Meanwhile some waiters from the tavern brought out a board, roughly the size of a billiard table, with sparkling glasses filled to the brim. The leaders organized the distribution, which took the form of a procession past the tavern door. Yet although the glasses on the board were repeatedly refilled, this did not suffice for the crowd, and two lines of bar boys slipped out continuously along each side of the board in order to keep the crowd supplied. By now of course the candidate had already finished speaking and took advantage of the break to fortify himself anew. Away from the crowd and the harsh light, his carrier bore him slowly back and forth, and only a few of his closest supporters accompanied him and spoke to him from below.