North (19 page)

"We're used to it, Harras . . . family hatred . . ."

"Anyway you've nothing to worry about! . . . Kracht is here!" 

It's all so fragile though!"

"Think of the bird on its branch . . ."

"Three birds, Harras! . . . and where's the bird seed? I see it's impossible . . ."

"No! No! Don't say that! come with me! . . . anything you want, Céline!"

He takes me to the back of the drawing room . . . a cupboard with double doors . . . Louis XV, pink and pearl-gray . . . he opens it wide . . . he hands me the keys . . . three keys . . . three locks . . . I see there are still more locks . . .
click! click! 
. . . he's right . . . all we want . . . '

"Plenty of everything, see?"

Canned goods from top to bottom . . . the other side wine and cigars . . . cartons of Navy Cut and Camels . . .

"For a regiment, Céline! take what you like but not a word! to anybody! . . . do what they do! same as they do!"

"Harras, they must have been! . . . they haven't got the keys . . . but they've helped themselves . . ."

"Not much, Céline, not much, I can tell . . . they know I know . . . all this comes from Portugal . . . don't cook anything . . . only eat ham, sausage, butter . . . sardines . . . but in your room . . . like them! throw the empty cans far away . . . On your walks!"

"In the Urals?"

"No . . . not that far, in the ponds . . . they'll go looking . . . they're laying for you . . . you know . . . and especially watch yourself at table! . . . ask for more soup as if you were always hungry . . . as if you liked it! hungrier and hungrier! the air! don't forget the air . . . and the long walks!"

Knock, knock!
it's Lili . . . I open . . . she apologizes . . . she's been to see the Kretzers, they've got a whole floor to themselves . . . the other stairway . . .

"Well?"

"I asked her for the cards, we'd like them back, so we can go to Moorsburg and buy
leberwurst
. . . ourselves!"

"And she wouldn't?"

"No . . . she said there was no point, her husband would go . . . and she threw a fit . . . said we didn't trust her . . . that we took her for a thief . . . that she was a martyred mother! . . . that her two sons had been killed! by the French! . . . I cried with her as hard as I could . . . she wouldn't let me go . . . she was furious . . .

"'You don't believe me?'

"'Yes, yes, I believe you!'

"She had to show me her sons' tunics, one with branden-burgs, the other with piping . . . both torn, riddled . . . caked with blood . . ."

"Really her sons?"

I ask Harras . . .

"Yes . . . yes . . . the truth . . . her two sons! . . . a prize bitch all the same! . . . even a bit of a poisoner, I think! . . . oh, she's not the only one! . . ."

"Not the only one" makes me think of other words I've heard . . . snatches between him and Kracht. . . I was going to ask him for details . . . really weird . . . Lili's supposed to show us the pictures, she's promised . . . fact! . . . we see the two sons, twenty and twenty-five, both in the artillery . . . they look like their mother . . . killed the same day, four years rago . . . at Péronne . . . Harras had known the two sons . . .

But Bébert? . . . I was thinking about him . . . he didn't care much for ham or sardines . . . what he wanted was fresh fish . . . lucky we had the hunchback . . . she was very kind . . . her father lived in Berlin, in a big bunker . . . he fished in the Spree . . . good deal! . . . every Monday his daughter would bring us back a bottle full of little fishes . . . all settled . . . and Bébert would feast all week . . . while it lasted . . . there are good-hearted people wherever you go . . . you can't say that everything stinks . . .

Harras isn't a bad guy for a Kraut . . . but time will, tell . . .

"Harras, colleague, when are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning . . . but if you don't mind, Céline, I want to ask you for a bit of advice . . . a little work perhaps . . . if you dont mind . . . we'll talk it over if you don't mind . . . a project! this evening! we can be alone after dinner . . . you don't mind? . . ."

"No, of course not, Harras! of course not! . . . but not too late . . ."

"Nine o'clock . . . is nine all right?"

"Yes . . . yes, I'll be here . . . Lili too . . . and Le Vig . . . and Bébert."

"Of course."

I confess that I'd known Haïras for years, and I'd never had the impression that he took us very seriously, or that he looked down on us either . . . we were French and that was that . . . later, like a lot of other people, I came to see very clearly that we were clowns . . . and even now in France, every day . . . and forever, I imagine . . . which reminds me that the worst stinkers, the most dangerous, are the benefactors, the worst sadists . . . they get a real kick out of your contortions . . . what a bunch! . . . the bullfight audience, in on every circus . . . if you can't "sue" you're the fall guy . . . the only question is how loud they can make you yell . . . threatened on all sides . . . first the cops, your fingerprints on the "Wanted list" . . . and your rogues' gargoyle portraits . . . the family pastime! . . . "This guy . . . look at him . . . no right to sue . . . we'll give him the works all right!" . . . burn his bed and table and chairs . . . and haul him into court again with an indictment that'll make his guts pop out of their own free will and send him double-tuning around-the world over broken bottles and rusty nails . . . I wasn't expecting that kind of thing from Harras, what worried me was his "absences" . . . he'd be with you, really with you, perfectly reasonable, and then
bing!
. . . presto, he wasn't there any more! a different guy! . . . a kind of exaltation . . . the look in his eyes . . . the things he said . . . Later . . . much later . . . thinking about him . . . and thinking about other Germans, doctors and patients, what griped me was these "second states" they'd fall into . . . later, much later, I realized that this was their moment of inspiration, their mystic trance . . . poor Harras, he came to a bad end . . . bound to . . . a lot worse than me . . . 

I'm sorry . . . I'll get you back! . . . Harras and I had one thing in common . . . punctuality! military! . . . nine o'clock! . . . I go down to the drawing room . . . I meet him outside . . . we go in . . . he shuts the door . . . I look at his face . . . plenty to eat, and drink . . . I listen . . .

"My dear Céline, the time has come, I believe, for us, the new Europe, to acquaint not only the learned world but the general public as well with the age-old collaboration between our two nations in every field, philosophical, literary, scientific, and medical! yes medical! our field, my dear Céline!. . . How many Germans have taught at your schools in the last eight centuries? How many do you think? . . . Montpellier? . . . Paris? . . . Sorbonne? . . ."

This was a good time to look convinced . . . and in perfect agreement . . .

"You'll find it all here! . . . in these files!"

A chest I hadn't opened . . . a few pieces of velvet . . . and files! plenty of files!

"All this comes to us from the Archives . . . the Museum of the Sciences . . ."

His way, I seem to gather, of giving us a suitable and official occupation! . . . a bundle! . . . another! manuscripts in Gothic print . . . green and red Gothic . . . and portraits of professors! . . . woodcuts . . .

"You'll do me this favor, won't you, Celine? you catch my meaning?
^"

I catch it perfectly . . .

"Certainly, Harras, certainly!''

An article that I'll drag out for a month . . . two months . . . to keep those people from complaining . . . we won't be idle parasites . . . but historical propagandists . . .
prima! prima!
first-rate! ho-ho! . . . his laugh took over! what a joke! . . . but here's another woodcut . . . Dürer's
Four Horsemen
. . .

"We could use this for our preface.'*

"Good idea!"

"But easy there, Céline! Easy! There's been a big revolution! Pestilence has shrunk . . . So's Famine . . . little, very little . . . Death and War, enormous! . . . the proportions have changed since Durer! . . . everything's changed! . . . don't you agreed?"

I agree to the hilt!

"The Apocalypse, yes! but no more Pestilence and Famine!"

I object. . . 

"Maybe a wee bit of Famine?"

"You've got the cupboard, Céline! oh-ho-ho! . . ."

What a laugh!

"The calamity, Céline, I told you in Berlin, you saw the cables . . . epidemics are washed up . . . even in Mongolia! . . . or India! . . . under Dürer this war would have been over two years ago! . . . now it can never end . . . you'll say that in your preface! . . . two horsemen instead of four! pathetic!''

"At your service, Harras! it will all be written!"

"The Apocalypse inoculated? Impossible!"

I see! . . . I see, Harras!"

He was steamed up . . . I thought of Lili, she must be getting worried . . . Bébert was with her . . . probably Le Vig in his basement cell wasn't too easy in his mind either . . . If only Harras would dry up and let me go . . . but he bas a long practice of international conferences . . . I know the atmosphere . . . I've been around the world several times with a raft of these scientists . . . there you can say that reason has quit . . . just lend an ear . . . you think politicos shoot off their mouths . . . they don't hold a candle to scientists! . . . they want the platform to have and to hold . . . soliloquies! more damn foolishness in the annals of the Higher Scientific Institutes than in the parliamentary record . . . or your daily paper. . . and not only in this country, that would be too easy, but everywhere else: astronomy, histology, every conceivable meridian . . . color of skin, iron curtains, sects and races . . . same difference . . . the biggest windbag takes the prize! . . . fanaticized, spellbound! . . . the learned with the ignorant! on their knees! asininities that overshoot the moon, from galaxy to galaxy . . . you don't know where they'll go . . . how far? . . . how long? a thousand years! . . . I could see our Harras was launched . . . one thing I knew, little by little he'd put me to sleep with his talk about files . . . and this preface! . . . and his Four Horsemen! . . . his mini-Famine and mini-Pestilence . . . I could see whole months of Apocalypse ahead of me! . . .

I was with the League of Nations . . . the stuff I heard! . . . the mightiest brains of the age, geniuses to the nth power! . . . Harras was an A-1 technician, but not their speed . . . far from it! . . . I mean in the class of the Bertrand Rüssels, ° Curies, or Luchaire ° . . . they were real Titans in the art of saying nothing . . . Harras and his Apocalypse . . . pht! . . . balloon juice! maybe it would do me two . . . three months . . . no more! I Warn him . . .

"Ho-ho! we've also got a secret weapon!"

He wants to tell me about that too . . .

"Harras, if you don't mind, tomorrow . . ."

"Yes, of course . . . tomorrow evening!
heil! heil!"

Lili must have been getting bored, up there in our round tower . . . barely high enough to stand in . . . Harras went right on . . . developing his thesis: Franco-German medicine down through the ages . . . proofs! this file and that file! . . . with every portrait an anecdote! . . . to impress my memory! . . . Kraut professors in Paris, in Montpellier . . . eleventh century . . . twelfth . . . fifteenth . . . their controversies! . . .and no little sawbone barbers! scholars even then! . . . esteemed at court or persecuted . . .

I see the door moving . . . I can guess . . . Harras doesn't see . . . Lili . . . making motions . . . Okay! . . . I get up very quietly . . . Harras will be at it for another two hours . . . at least . . . he's capable of spending whole nights on a trifling statistical detail, on a "Summary of Conclusions" . . . you'll find the typescript one day in the outhouse . . . soaked, illegible . . . and nobody remembers what it was all about . . Harras was the kind who could sit up all night getting to the bottommost bottom of that outbreak of measles in the Faroe Islands in the seventeenth century! . . . for the moment his passion was the Krauts in Montpellier in the twelfth . . . the fourteenth . . .

We sneaked out of the room without his noticing . . . he was lecturing . . . to himself . . . we could hear him down the stairs . . . but there on my tick I couldn't sleep . . . I said to myself: he's sure to notice! . . . he'll be offended! . . . not just the echo of his words, there was another echo . . .
boom boom
in the distance . . . that didn't bother him, an hour and a half he went on about those twelfth-century professors . . . we got a little rest . . . I was just dozing off . . . might as well! . . .
knock! knock!
no surprise to me! . . . him! . . . at the door!

"Colleague! Colleague! forgive met I have to leave!"

I get up . . . I go outside . . . I see him on the stairs . . . in full campaign uniform . . . triple overcoat. . . hand grenades . . . potato masher . . . I see him clearly, very cinematic with his big flashlight against the darkness of the stairs . . .

"I'm leaving now, Céline . . . I have to!"

"Trouble?"

"Oh, they've dropped a few bombs . . . didn't you hear?"

"Yes . . . but far away!"

"It's best to travel at night . . . they only bomb the roads in the daytime . . ."

"Good luck, my dear Harras!"

"You'll have it ready?"

"What ready ?"

"The summary of the files, of course!''

"Of course, my dear Harras! . . . I'll be finished in a week!"

"Not so fast, Céline! Not so fast! Take your time!"

"As you wish, Harras . . . as you wish . . ." 

"Wait! . . . may I come in? two words! . . . you will excuse me, Madame?"

"Come in, Harras! Come in!"

I close the door behind him . . . we'd never seen him in full battle dress . . . enormous to begin with, now he's monstrous . . . especially in our little tower room . . . he's too big, he lowers his head . . .

"Now my friend, listen! I don't know when I'll be able to come back . . .Kracht will phone me . . . I may be going back to the Russian front . . . maybe . . . or to Lisbon . . . it all depends . . . now you here . . . don't budge . . . I've told you about the people . . . especially the Landrat . . . you know him . . . you'll see him, don't try to meet him, he's a silly vicious old man . . . you've seen the manor and the farm . . . what they're like . . . the other old buzzard, the
Rittmeister
with his soubrettes, he's not dangerous . . . little manias, that's all . . . an old man! . . . young von Leiden, the cripple and his wife across the way, they've got a daughter, Cillie . . . the little girl will come to see you, it's all arranged, shell bring you milk for yourselves and Bébert . . . now let's see . . . let's see . . ."

He ponders . . .

"The son's wife Inge is difficult . . . menopause hasn't set in, but just around the corner . . . fine figure of a frustrated woman . . . you get the picture?"

"Yes, yes . . . of course . . ."

"Wait . . . there's a complication . . . he . . . the cripple . . . takes drugs . . . they drug him . . . he's been crippled for four years . . . approximately . . . both legs . . . disseminated sclerosis? . . . syringomyelia? . . . he's been examined ten times . . . twenty times . . . Paget's disease? . . . The developments will show . . ."

"Yes . . . yes, of course!"

"He has attacks . . . looks like tabes . . . but not tabes . . . the developments will show . . . very painful . . . besides he's kind of psychotic, definitely, then he's dangerous . . . rages . . . he wasn't violent before . . . now he is . . . with his wife, with his little girl, with everybody, with you if he sees too much of you . . . I've given him the usual sedatives . . . then injections . . . and finally opium . . . in syrup . . . his heart's giving out too . . . he'll ask you to auscultate him . . . his wife Inge does all she can . . . I tell her . . . not too much medicine . . . we never know in these cases, do we? . . . Kracht will tell you . . . ah yes, I'd forgotten! . . . you haven't seen her! . . . in the other tower over there! . . . Marie-Thérèse von Leiden, the old man's sister . . . the other tower . . . Baronin Marie-Thérèse! . . . she doesn't see her brother, or her nephew over there, or especially her niece Inge! . . . she lives by herself, everything she needs, she gets it herself in Moorsburg, she does her own cooking, afraid of being poisoned . . . she only goes out on Thursdays . . . to Moorsburg . . . and on Sunday to play the organ . . . maybe you'll go to church . . . Pastor Rieder! . . . anti-Nazi! . . . she plays pretty well . . . you can hear her playing the piano in her tower, she'll invite you, she's very nice when she wants to be . . . she talks French, brought up in Switzerland . . . all the young ladies of good family in those days . . ."

He sums up:

"Now you know everything . . . watch out for the Kretzers . . . any hostility, Kracht will phone me . . ."

"Splendid, my dear Harras, I understand . . ."

"And my little paper . . . don't forget!"

"Your little paper is my only thought!"

"Glad to hear that! . . . Good old Céline!"

A spell of
ho-ho's!
. . . we're sooo funny! . . . we shake hands . . .

"All my apologies, Madame Céline! forgive me! do forgive me!"

I go down with him . . . to see him off . . . it's all right with him . . . Kracht is out front with two big suitcases, bulging . . .

"You're not taking the documents, Harras?"

"Never fear! all this is food! chickens! butter! hams! From you I have no secrets!"

"Harras, you're a real friend!"

They stow away his enormous suitcases . . . he starts the engine . . . the clutch! Hitler salutes . . .

"You'll remember, Céline?"

"Sure thing! . . . and take it easy!"

Kracht shakes hands with me . . . the first time . . . he's not a mixer . . . he goes up to his place . . . and me to my tower . . . there's the car in the distance . . .

And farther . . . much farther . . . a lot of little
ping pings!
. . . their "passive defense" . . . no warnings here . . . here it's with a bugle . . . they've told me . . . Hjalmar the village beadle makes the rounds . . . he's older than old von Leiden . . . when it's an emergency, he beats the drum . . . we've only had one emergency alarm, a mistake . . . a German plane from the field nearby had crashed on top of Platzdorf . . . Platzdorf is halfway between Moorsburg and us . . .