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Authors: Alfred Döblin

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Berlin Alexanderplatz: The Story of Franz Biberkopf (48 page)

BOOK: Berlin Alexanderplatz: The Story of Franz Biberkopf
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Earthquake, lightning, clouds of vapor, everything gone, but it’s nice we met him, I’ll sound him out about everything that happened with Pums, and what Franz does, I’ll make him hot, that’ll do the trick; keep him on tenterhooks, then he’ll come around, Mieze dreams now of how fortune will favor her. The pianist sings: Answer
oui,
that’s French, my baby, Answer
ja,
or in Chinese, maybe, As you wish, it doesn’t matter, Love’s an international chatter, Say it under the rose, Or through the nose, Say it ecstatically, Or emphatically, Answer
oui,
Say
ja,
or
yes,
And anything else you want, I guess.

A few glasses of liquor are brought and they all treat themselves to a wee little nip. Mieze betrays the fact that she was at the ball, which gives rise to a splendid conversation. The conductor at the piano plays by general request:
In Switzerland and Tyrol,
words by Fritz Roller and Otto Stransky, Music by Anton Profes. - In Switzerland and on Tyrol’s height, One feels so well by day and night, In Tyrol the milk comes warm from the cow, In Switzerland there’s the tall Jungfrau. But here, we’ll honestly admit, Life isn’t such a grand old hit, And that’s why I think it’s simply grand, In Tyrol and in Switzerland, Yipiaddyi. -On sale in all music stores. Yipiaddyi, Miezeken laughs, my darlin’ Franz thinks I’m with my old man now, but it’s with himself I am, and he don’t notice it.

Then, afterwards, we’ll drive around in the neighborhood with that there car. That’s what Karl, Reinhold, and Mieze want, backwards it’s Mieze, Reinhold, and Karl, or Reinhold, Karl, and Mieze, they want it all together. Just at that moment, the telephone has to ring and a waiter calls: Herr Matter wanted on the telephone, didn’tcha give the high sign, Reinhold, young man, well, we won’t say anything, Mieze smiles, too, if neither of you got anything against it, looks as if it would develop into a pleasant afternoon. And now little Karl is back again, oh, Karl, my boy, Karl, my boy, you’re my love and you’re my joy, somethin’ hurtin’ my baby, nope, gotta rush back to Berlin, you stay, Mieze, I gotta go, you never can tell. He gives Mieze another WI kiss, and don’t say nothin’, Karl, you know me, honey, for every man, if he can, everywhere, likes a little change of air, so long, Reinhold, happy Easter, merry Xmas. Hat off the hook, and he’s gone.

Well, here we are. “Now whatcha say to that?” “Well, Fraulein, there wasn’t any use in yellin’ like that the other day, now was there?” “That was just because I was afraid.” “Of me?” “A person gets used to people.” “Very flatterful.” How the little tart rolls her eyes, a sweet, nice little baggage! Let’s bet I’ll get her today; you just wait a bit, m’boy, I’m just gonna keep ye flopping around a little, and then you’ll tell me everything you know. Gosh, he certainly looks funny. He musta drunk a whole bottle of vinegar.

The pianist has sung himself out and the piano is tired, it would like to go to sleep, too; Reinhold and Mieze wander up the hill together, and stroll into the wood. They talk of this and that, walking arm-in-arm, he’s not such a bad sort. And when, around six, they come back to the Kurgarten again, Karl is there waiting for them, he’s already back with the car. Are we going home so soon, it’s full moon tonight, let’s go into the woods together, it’s so nice there, all right let’s go. So at eight the three of them wander into the woods together, and Karl has to hurry back to the hotel to reserve rooms, and see about the car. We’ll meet in the Kurgarten later on.

There are many trees in this wood, and many people walking arm-in-arm together, there are lonely paths as well. They walk dreamily side by side. Mieze would like to ask something, but she doesn’t know what, it’s ever so nice walking arm-in-arm with this man, oh, I’ll ask him another time, it’s such a nice evening. Lord, what must Franz think of me? I must soon get out of the woods, it’s so nice walking here. Reinhold has taken her arm, he’s got a right arm, he walks on my left side, Franz is always on my right, strange to walk like this, he has a strong, vigorous arm, what a great big fellow he is! They walk between the trees, the ground is soft, Franz has good taste. I’ll get her away from him, and she’ll belong to me one month, then he can do about it as he pleases. If he starts anything he’ll get it in the neck on our next trip so he’ll forget to get up again, she’s a nice jane, a frisky jane, too, and she’s true to him.

They walk and talk of this and that. It is getting darker. It’s better if they talk, Mieze sighs, it’s so dangerous to walk without talking, and only just feel the fellow beside you. She’s always looking at the road, wants to see where it goes. I don’t know what I want with him; oh, my God, what do I want with him anyway? They walk around in a circle. Without his noticing anything, Mieze leads him back to the road. Open your eyes, here we are back again!

It’s eight o’clock. He pulls out his flashlight, they are on their way back to the hotel, we’ve left the woods behind, the little birds, the little birds, ah, how sweetly they were singing. He begins to tremble. That was a strangely silent road. He’s got good eyes. He walks peacefully beside her. The tinner’s waiting, all alone on the terrace. “Got the rooms?” Reinhold looks around for Mieze; she’s gone. “Where’s the lady?” “Gone to her room.” He knocks. “The lady has given orders, she’s gone to bed.”

He’s trembling now. How lovely that was. The dark wood, the birds. What’m I after with that girl? Franz certainly has a fine girl. I’d like to have her. Reinhold is sitting on the terrace with Karl. They are smoking thick cigars. They smile at each other. Why should we stay here, anyway? We might as well sleep at home. Reinhold is breathing deeply, slowly, slowly drawing at his fragrant weed, the dark wood, we walk around in a circle, she leads me back again. “If you wanta, Karl. I’ll stay here tonight.”

And then they tramp together to the edge of the wood, and sit there, watching the autos pass. There are lots of trees in this wood, the ground is soft to walk on, lots of people are wandering arm-in-arm, I certainly am a dirty bastard.

Saturday, September 1st

That was Wednesday, August 29, 1928.

Three days later everything repeats itself. The tinner comes with a car, Mieze - didn’t Mieze just say yes right away when he asked her if she wanted to go out to Freienwalde again, and Reinhold would like to come along, too. I’ll be stronger this time, she thinks, as she takes her seat in the car, I won’t go into the woods with him. She said yes right away, for Franz has been very sad these last few days, but he don’t say why, and I must know why, I must get at the bottom of that. He has plenty of money from me, he has everything in fact, he lacks for nothing, I wonder what is worrying him.

Reinhold is sitting in the car beside her, and right away puts his arm around her waist. Everything has been well thought out. Today you’re gonna ride away from your beloved Franz for the last time, today you’re gonna stay with me, as long as I want you to. You’re the five-hundredth or the thousandth woman I’ve had, everything went fine and in apple-pie order up till now, it’ll all go well again. She sits there and doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but I know it, and that’s all right.

At Freienwalde they leave the car in front of the inn, Karl Matter goes walking alone with Mieze through Freienwalde, it is Saturday, September 1st, and four o’clock. Reinhold would like to sleep another hour in the inn. After six Reinhold comes creeping out, tinkers a bit with the auto, then swills a coupla drinks and goes off.

Mieze feels happy in the woods. Karl is so nice and has heaps to talk about, he has taken out a patent, but the firm where he works pinched it from him, that’s the way employees get cheated, they have to agree to that in advance, in writing; so thanks to the patent the firm became millionaires, he only works with Pums because he’s inventing a new model now, which will completely cut out the one the firm stole from him. A model like that costs a lot of money. He can’t give it away to Mieze, it’s a huge secret, but everything in the world will be changed if it comes off, all the street-cars, fire-engines, garbage disposal, everything, it can be adapted to everything, anything at all. They tell each other stories about their auto trip to the masked ball, how the oak trees whizzed by, along the road, I give you 128 days of the year, each with its morning, noon, and night.

“Yoo-hoo, yoo-hoo,” Reinhold calls across the wood. That’s Reinhold. They answer: “Yoo-hoo, yoo-hoo.” Karl goes and hides, but Mieze grows more serious when Reinhold comes up.

The two cops in blue got up from the stone. And they said that their investigation had been futile and without results, there’s nothing to be done, only unimportant things happen here, all we can do is to give a written report to the authorities. And if something should happen, well, we’ll read about it anyway, it’ll be on the poster column.

But in the woods Mieze and Reinhold are walking alone, a few little birds chirp and twitter softly. Overhead the tree-tops begin to sing. First one tree sang, and then another tree, then they sang together, then they were silent again, and then they sang above the heads of the two. There is a mower, death yclept, has power which the Lord has kept. When he ‘gins his knife to whet, keener it grows and keener yet.

“Oh, I’m glad, really glad, to be back again in Freienwalde, Reinhold. You know, day before yesterday, it was pretty wasn’t it, really pretty.” “Only a bit too short, Fraulein. You musta been tired, I knocked at your door, but ye didn’t open it.” “The air stings my skin, and then that ride and everything.” “Well, wasn’t it just a bit nice, though?” “Certainly, what do you mean?” “I just mean, when you go for a walk like that, and with such a pretty little young lady.” “Pretty young lady, now stop your joshin’. Do I say pretty gentleman?” “Well, the fact that you go walkin’ with me-” “What about it?” “Well, I imagine there ain’t much in a fellow like me. That you should go walking with me, Fraulein, you can believe me, it gives me really a lotta pleasure.” He’s a lamb. “Haven’t you got a girlfriend?” “Girl-friend, what’s a girl-friend nowadays?” “Oh, well.” “Yep. There’s all kinds of ‘em. You don’t know anything about that, Fraulein. You got a friend there who’s straight, and he does something for you. But a girl, she just wants to amuse herself, and as for her heart-why, she ain’t got any.” “You certainly must be outa lucie” “You see, Fraulein, that’s how all that-well, that business of exchanging dames came up. But you don’t want to hear nothin’ about that, do you?” “Oh, go on, what was that, anyway?” “I can tell you exactly what it was, and you’ll understand it then. Can a fellow keep a dame longer than a coupla months or a coupla weeks when she ain’t worth nothin’? Well, supposin’ she flops around, or she ain’t worth nothin’, don’t understand nothin’, gets mixed up in everything, or boozes, maybe?” “Why, that’s rotten.” “Y’see, Mieze, that’s what happened to me. That’s the way things happen to a feller. Just a lotta trash, rubbish, filth. It all come outa the garbage-can. Would you like to be married to somethin’ like that? Well, not me, not for a single hour. And so a fellow stands it for a little while, a coupla weeks, maybe, and then it simply don’t go any more, she’s just got to get out, and there I am again, ‘taint nice. But it’s nice here.” “I suppose there’s a little variety in it too, ain’t there?” Reinhold laughs: “Whatcha mean, Mieze?” “Well, well, you probably like a change, too, once in a while, eh?” “Well, why not we’re all human beings after all, ain’t we?” Laughing, they walk along arm-in-arm, it’s September 1st. The trees keep on singing. It’s one long sermon.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; to everything its hour, to everything its year, a time to be born, and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted; to everything its season, a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down and a time to build up; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep and a time to cast away; a time to rend and a time to sew, a time to keep silence, and a time to speak. To everything there is a season. Therefore I say there is nothing better than to laugh and to be happy. Better than to be happy. Happy, let us be happy. There is nothing better beneath the sun than to laugh and to be happy.

Reinhold holds Mieze’s hand, he is walking on her right what a strong arm he has! “You know Mieze, as a matter of fact I didn’t have the courage to invite you, that time, y’know when I mean.” And then we walk for half an hour and talk very little. It’s dangerous to walk so long without saying anything. But you can feel the pressure of his right arm.

Where shall I take the sweet little minx, gosh, she certainly is a very special line, I believe I’ll save that girl up for later on, a fellow’s got to enjoy life, maybe I’ll drag her into the hotel, and in the night in the night, when the moon shines bright. “Why, you’ve got your hand all covered with scars and you’re tattooed on your chest, too?” “Yep, d’ye want to see it?” “Why did you have yourself tattooed?” “It depends where, Fraulein.” Mieze sways on his arm, sniggering: “I can guess it the feller I had before Franz, the way he had himself painted up, you wouldn’t believe it!” “It hurts, but it’s nice. You want to see it Fraulein?” He lets go her arm, quickly bares his chest shows his chest here we are. It’s an anvil with a laurel-wreath around it. “Now just you button yourself up, Reinhold.” “Have a good look at it.” There’s fire in him, blind hunger, he grabs her head and crushes her to his breast: “Kiss it you, kiss it you must kiss it.” But she does not kiss it. Her head remains there crushed beneath his hands: “Lemme go.” He releases her: “Say, don’t put on like that.” “I’ll be goin’.” The little bitch, I’ll get you yet the way that bitch talks to me. He fastens his shirt, I’ll get her yet, she’s putting on airs, hold your horses, old boy, quiet now: “Have I done anything to you, look, I’m buttoning myself up. There. Welt I suppose you’ve seen a man before, ain’t you?”

Why am I hanging around with this here fellow, he’s mussed up my hair, a regular rowdy, I guess I’ll beat it. To everything there is a season, to everything, to everything.

“Now don’t get sore, Fraulein, it just came over me, all of a sudden. Just on the spur of the moment. Y’know, there are moments like that in a man’s life.” “Y’needn’t grab my head for that.” “Don’t get sore, Mieze.” I’ll grab ye somewhere else. That wild passion sweeps over him again. All I need is to touch her. “Mieze, let’s be friends again. “ “All right, but you must behave.” “O.K.” Arm-in-arm. He smiles at her and she smiles down into the grass. “Wasn’t so bad, Mieze, now was it? We only bark, we don’t bite.” “I’m wondering what that anvil’s for, some men have a woman there, or a heart or somethin’ like that, but an anvil!” “Well, what do you think it is, Mieze?” “Nothin’. How should I know?” “That’s my coat of arms.” “An anvil?” “Yep. It’s to lay somebody on.” He grins at her. “You certainly are a pig. Mighta been better if you’d had ‘em put a bed on it.” “Nope, an anvil’s better. The anvil’s better.” “Are you a blacksmith?” “Kinda. A guy like me is everything. But you don’t quite understand about that anvil, Mieze. Nobody can come too near me, Fraulein, without there bein’ trouble right away. But you mustn’t believe I bite right away, certainly I wouldn’t bite you. We’re takin’ such a nice walk and I’d like to sit down, too, if there’s a hollow around anywhere.” “You’re all about the same, you Pums fellers, ain’t you?” “All depends, Mieze, it’s not so easy to get along with us.” “Well, and what are you guys up to, anyway?” How am I gonna get her to sit down in the hollow, there ain’t a soul about. “Gee, Mieze, you’d better ask Franz about that, he knows just as much as I do.” “But he don’t say nothin’.” “That’s fine. He’s clever. Better not say nothin’.” “He could to me!” “What do you want to know?” “What you’re up to.” “Will I get a kiss for it?” “If you tell me.”

BOOK: Berlin Alexanderplatz: The Story of Franz Biberkopf
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