North (22 page)

"This is when!"

Looks like it. . . I attack with a hundred mark note, I hold it out . . .

"For the bread!
brot!
"

A hundred marks neatly folded . . . there!. . . it's a deal!. . . she hands me the loaf . . . we understand each other . . .

"Have you any honey?"

I see the jars . . .

"Kunsthonig
. . . artificial honey . . . but coupons!"

"Moorsburg?

Hell! . . . another hundred marks! . . . okay, one jar . . . she warns me . . .

"It's no good! . . . you'll find the genuine article at the pastor's . . . Rieder!"

We know . . . he's at the hives . . . not home!"

She knows too . . . I doubt if the housewives of Zornhof are very openhanded . . . my two hundred marks have done wonders . . . she thinks I'm rich and no penny-pincher . . . so then she tells me about the pastor . . .

"He's running after the swarms . . . he owns all the beehives in Zornhof . . . the women are afraid of bees . . . he's got the church and the bees . . . but you can find him in the evening and on Sunday . . . after eight p.m.  . . ."

Fine! . . . good thing to know! . . . I mention coffee . . . another hundred marks! okay, I've got it ready! . . . but she honestly hasn't got any . . . only toasted oats . . . Maybe tonight, after eight . . . maybe . . . if I care to come back . . . bread too . . . I should tap on the blind . . . four times . . . she shows me . . . so shell know who it is . . . and at the same time:
franzose
. . . she'll know . . .

We haven't come out for nothing . . . a loaf of bread . . . a jar of honey . . . true, we've attracted a bit-of attention . . . oh well! . . . Le Vig didn't have to play up,to the grocery lady . . . the hundred mark notes did it . . . and it was my own money . . . not the Pope's or Adolfs or Juanovid's, the wages of my headaches . . . to think that I'm still here trying to amuse you! . . . a lot of very staunch Europeans couldn't say the same . . . under such affronts, such torrents of insults, they'd just pass away . . .

But after all, we're bringing back a little something . . . we can hold up our heads! . . . yes, we could have brought back more! . . . another messkit from the
Tanzhalle
. . . maybe the SS-man would have given us something too for a hundred marks? . . . perfectly possible! . . . maybe we should have risked it . . . or a pack of Navy Cut? the cupboard was there and I had the key . . . Harras wouldn't be back for a while and anyway he'd understand . . . sure he was a two-timing dog, but reasonable . . . this was an emergency . . . dig in! that's what he said . . . I'll explain . . . ah, our park again! . . . the majestic walk . . . the peristyle . . . ah, here's something new . . . over to the west another isba . . . they've worked fast! . . . I look at the time . . . the church . . . no slouches those carpenters! . . . there wasn't anything there when we left . . . why this new building? I'll go ask them . . . but they're not allowed to talk to anybody, the SS-man told me, not even to each other! . . . they don't even look at us! . . . why should we be so curious with our funny honey and our bread? . . . better move along! . . . Lili must be worried . . . the steps, four by four! . . . in a manner of speaking . . . anyway here we are . . . our big door . . . our round tower . . . Lili's not alone . . . a reception! . . . First thing I see . . . a little candle, very little, in a tall candlestick . . . they're laying out cards . . . how many people? all women . . . three . . . four in addition to Lili . . . I gradually make out the faces . . . one of the faces is speaking . . . slightly sing-song French . . . to me . . .

"Doctor, I've taken the liberty . . . Madame Céline was alone . . . I am Marie-Thérèse von Leiden . . . your humble servant . . . and your friend . . . the sister of that man downstairs, you know him . . . Count Hermann von Leiden . . . the freak! and the aunt of the one over there . . . at the farm . . . the cripple! that disposes of the introductions. I've been telling Madame Céline that I'm not as impossible as my nephew over there and my brother downstairs! . . . or my niece, really a horror, Inge by no means as sick and insane as those people who hate me may have tried to make you think . . . and that fat Harras as well, I trust! . . . he's jealous! . . . and mean! jealous of my French! . . . yes, indeed! . . . imagine, Doctor! . . . I was brought up in Lausanne! as if that meant anything!"

This spinster Marie-Thérèse looked to be about sixty . . . I was beginning to see her better . . . the eye adapts . . . the other woman was Frau Krerzer . . . she hadn't wanted to leave Lili alone either . . . women always find some pretext to go looking for gossip . . . Kretzer had come about our ration cards, to tell us they weren't in Moorsburg any more, we'd get new ones from Berlin . . . but that could take a While . . . not so dumb to strike out on our own! . . . I'd got this bread and this funny honey . . . and I'd get more! . . . ah, two more women in the shadow . . . now I see their faces . . . two of the office secretaries . . . they'd come about the food cards too . . . one was our little hunchback with the fish . . . she shows me a bottle full of little bleaks, alive and frisky, her father had fished them out of the Spree with a net . . . he poaches . . . in a rowboat . . . they live in a bunker shaped like a dungeon, extra-thick, reinforced concrete . . . they've been given a cell down there . . . a privilege . . . because she's lost five brothers and two uncles . . . two on the Western Front, four in Russia . . . this bunker is so super-reinforced, absolutely impregnable, that the bombs just ricochet, not a dent . . . on the way out of Berlin I'd seen those tall, potbellied concretions, they didn't look so good to me, once you go into one of those things you can be sure you'll never be seen again . . . the little hunchback and her mother had tried to live there, they couldn't sock it . . . talking about ricochets, this whole concrete castle rolled and pitched under the torpedoes, worse than a ship in a storm . . . too much for them . . . they hadn't said anything, nobody says anything, nobody stays in those things except a few bandits, robbers, and pirates . . . or lunatics . . . I've known more than one . . . dozens . . . later on in prison, Fritzes, Russians, Frenchmen, Polacks, they told me about their way of helping those people when they were frantic, especially mothers and kids, squeezing out through the little doors . . . carrying their suitcases for them . . . and
bam!
now you see me now you don't, thin air in the night! oh, of course if you were caught red . . . things could go wrong . . . handed you'd be shot on the spot! . . . but how many made fortunes, bought up nice businesses with this little suitcase racket! . . . me for instance, my moving men on Montmartre are all "Commanders" now . . . which goes to show that crust in the right place is better than roulette or baccarat . . . anyway, when they saw what it was like, all the families of dead heroes except the bandits moved out of those impregnable shelters . . . from noon to five in the morning hundreds of RAF Fortresses passed over Berlin, they'd stopped bothering about bombing any particular neighborhood, they just dumped their bombs on the bunkers . . . convenient landmarks . . . the privileged families that had on staying came out without eyes or ears, their brains were running out their noses . . . out for the count . . . after that they went any old place to live, doorways, subways . . . but not those dungeons! . . . the Apocalypse that character wanted me to write about was right under, his nose! . . . from midnight to five in the morning, for sorely tried families with priority, at least three sons killed at the front . . . Anyway this little hunchback was very nice about Bébert, so was her father who went fishing at the risk of his life! . . . bleaks, roaches, gudgeon, and then some . . . Believe me, Bébert could see her coming with her bottle! . . . when you know something about cats, so unresponsive, so suspicious, it was a pleasure to see him, he was crazy about her with her hump . . . and not just policy, I think, but also because she thought of him, he knew . . . Still another face . . . a profile . . . a little girl . . . very pale . . . a very delicate profile . . . pretty . . . eleven or twelve . . . that must be Cillie, Inge von Leiden's daughter . . .

"My niece . . . she's brought you some milk . . ."

Now I know . . . we have at least two friends! . . . Cillie von Leiden and the hunchback . . . not bad in our situation . . . or, come right down to it, no matter where and when, peace, dead calm, wars, convulsions . . . so many vaginas, stomachs, cocks, snouts, and flies you don't know what to do with them . . . shovelsfull . . . but hearts? . . . very rare! in the last five hundred million years too many cocks and gastric tubes to count. . . but hearts? . . . on your fingers! . . .

Me and my philosophies! the main thing was to find out what was going on . . . certainly something more than food cards . . .

Frau Kretzer is deep in the shadow, far from the candle . . . I dive in . . . I'm fed up!

"Frau Kretzer, our cards?"

She bursts into tears, she sobs . . .

"They're in Berlin!"

And to make sure we won't say any more, she shows us her two sons' tunics again, she's brought them along on purpose, she shows us the bullet holes and the caked blood in the light . . . she's moved closer . . . of the candle . . . and her face too in the light . . . how drawn with grief! . . . she'd showed us before! . . . if she's still alive she must have it down to a T, this act with the tears and the tunics . . .

But where could she be now? . . . La Kretzer? . . . east of the Urals? . . . east of Lake Baikal? . . . people who seem to be well informed tell me this Prussia is all Tartar now . . . all these people I'm talking about must be ghosts, inevitable . . . to tell the truth, they were even then . . . even little Cillie there, with her delicate profile in the candlelight . . . 

Right then around the table, ghosts or not, in addition to conning the cards, they were drinking a bit of coffee . . . they offer us some . . . oh, not real coffee! . . . ersatz, pale and lukewarm . . . Marie Thérèse has finished with the future, she's shuffling . . .

"Well? . . . well?"

I ask.

"A naked man is coming! . . . a stark-naked man!"

And she laughs . . . a droll future!

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all! and flames! . . . oodles of flames!"

How original!

"And now won't you come to my place . . . do me the favor . . ."

She invites us . . .

"You need books . . . French books for Madame Céline . . . my brother's library is right next to my room, you'll see, you can take your pick . . . he doesn't read any more . . ."

The séance is closed . . . Mostly, I think, she wants to talk to us without Kretzer and the little girl . . . why not? . . . something to tell us . . . Cillie and Madame Kretzer leave first . . . we hear them on the stairs . . . we're left alone with the aunt and the little hunchback . . . good . . . now she can talk . . .

"You're being invited to dinner tomorrow evening at the farm . . . all three of you of course . . . at my nephew's . . . you've seen him . . . the cripple . . . you know his wife too, Inge . . ."

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

"You'll get to know them a lot better! the
Landrat
will, be there too . . . Harras would have been invited too if he hadn't gone off God knows where . . ."

"We're overjoyed!"

Then, tight-lipped:

I haven't been invited!"

She sighs . . . then she goes on . . .

"Maybe her mother will be invited . . . you'll see her! . . . her mother . . . that is, her adoptive mother . . . Countess Thor von Thorfels . . . they're from Königsberg . . . authentic nobility . . . but not Inge! no! certainly not! possibly a bastard . . . an adopted child, but no more! a delicate situation, you see . . . Thor von Thorfels, the father, was a philanderer . . . His bringing her home to his wife . . . I ask you . . . is that any reason why Inge should have it in for them all? . . . because of her dubious birth? . . . you see the situation . . . be on your guard!"

Okay, so Inge was an adoptive daughter . . . why should they mix us up in it? the foibles of the nobility! . . . Inge dangerous? hm . . . the old lady had excellent connections if she wanted to get rid of her!

Our friend Marie-Thérèse, if I understood right, was the true heiress, and the future Countess von Leiden! . . . we go to see her pad . . . not on our side of the manor . . . the other tower, on the steppe side . . . pitch-dark on the stairs, we take Bébert in his bag . . . one flight . . . the other wing, the other tower . . . another flight . . . here we are . . . two big Louis XV chandeliers . . . she lights all the candles . . . our heiress wants for nothing . . . a very attractive boudoir, you might say a retrospective exhibition of family portraits and small pieces of antique furniture . . . but no bric-a-brac, not a junk shop like Fretorius's place . . . oh no . . . excellent taste . . . even the local peasant embroideries are interesting . . . this Marie-Thérèse is a person of refinement, her rooms are very pleasant . . . her windows, not slits like ours, open out on the plain . . . a grandiose spectacle . . . at least a hundred searchlights are in action over Berlin . . . painting the sky . . . lighting it up all the way to us . . . the usual alert, the sky and the clouas one luminous panorama from horizon to horizon . . . the Apocalypse so long announced . . . the Sino-Russian-Yankee shindig won't need any searchlights! . . . you can junk the accessories! . . . well, up there with this Thérèse we were expecting confidences . . . that's what we'd come for . . .

"My good friends, never say anything in front of that Kretzer woman . . . or Kracht . . . or the rest of them . . . you brought back a loaf of bread . . . I saw it . . . never fear, the others saw it too . . . and honey! . . . be careful! . . . I'm extremely careful myself . . . those people over there, my own brother and my uncle . . . they've got their eye on me . . . they have their spies . . . everywhere! . . . isn't little Cillie delightful? pretty as a picture, I'm very fond of her, she's fond of me too, I think, but even so, she tells them everything she sees . . . when she brings your milk, shell look at everything . . . I hope you' have no weapons . . ."