North (55 page)

"Natürlich!
naturally!"

They're all for it . . . Harras will understand if he ever comes back . . .

"Of course! . . . of course!"

Okay . . . damn! . . . if there's anything left! . . . I've taken plenty! . . . the ladies have to eat too . . . and maybe even the three of us . . . and our Bébert . . . the
Revizor
isn't the only, pebble on the beach! "Enlightened charity . . ." of course we! could manage at the
bibels
. . . they wouldn't refuse us, but the round trip? a very perilous expedition in view of the general effervescence . . . no! . . . we'd eat beans . . . at least ten or twelve cans, I'd felt them under the cigarettes, way in back . . . but the ladies weren't interested! no beans! . . . sardines, yes! perfect! . . .

I'll look!"

I'm sure they had sardines at the isba . . . they had everything . . . somebody brought them stuff . . . why? . . . how? . . . maybe some kind of exchange . . . maybe we could . . . bread now, for instance . . . sure we could manage without it.  . . but we'd be happier with . . . the
Revizor
wanted his black bread bad . . .

"The chicks, Ferdie!"

I'd forgotten! . . . the typists must have some! . . . those furies up on the third floor that pretty near. . . if Kracht hadn't fired Inge would have taken a nosedive! . . . and not alone! la Kretzer with her! . . .

Maybe they'd throw us overboard . . . possible! . . . but we weren't setting fire to anything . . . all we wanted was a piece of bread . . . and for a sick man . . . sure it was risky . . . maybe they were still kind of edgy . . .

"Let's go!"

I've told you, the doors of their rooms all opened out on the same balcony over the big stairway . . . I'll offer to return their bread . . . up we go! . . . at every door knock! knock] was? what? . . . not friendly! . . . I shout. . . I shout louder! "a bit of bread for the
Revizor!"
. . . the doors open a crack . . . ah, half a loaf! . . . a whole loaf! and another! . . . we've got enough . . .
"danke! danke!
thanks!" . . . down again . . . back to the drawing room . . . the
Revizor
asks me . . .

"Didn't they say anything about the ledgers? my accounts?

"Yes! . . . yes indeed! they're ready!"

"Ah! ah!"

I see he's got to piss first . . . the ladies could give us a hand . . . they don't mind . . . we all help . . . a very delicate maneuver, he's in pain . . . there now! . . . he's doing it! . . . no fever, but his fracture . . . his fractures . . . they're not pretty . . . and we'll have to do it again . . . later . . . later . . . the main thing, now is for him to eat . . . he was hungry a minute ago . . . dry bread? there ought to be something on it! . . . maybe he'd like some pâté . . . but where are we going to get it? . . . I don't dare to say, but I know!

"Left go, Le Vig!"

He knows too . . . the cupboard again . . . he dives in and roots around . . .
Reichsoherarzt
Harras didn't travel for nothing . . . no epidemics! . . . but cigarsl boxes and boxes! . . . and hams! . . . and pâté! . . . three jars! . . . and liquor! cognac! . . . anisette! . . . chianti! . . . Marie-Thérèse is curious, she wants to help us . . . so does Countess Thor von Thorfels . . . the ladies know where the glasses are . . . in one of the sideboards . . . and the corkscrews . . . cripes! champagne! . . . Le Vig pulls out six bottles! . . . from the back, from under the cigarettes . . . the ladies don't have to be asked twice . . . the corks pop, the genuine article! . . . they hold out their glasses for seconds . . . we'd forgotten the
Revizor
, he wants some too . . .
myum! myum!
. . . great stuff! he asks for more! . . . Lili pours . . . our two countesses, Marie-Thérèse and whoozit, come over to watch the
Revizor
drink . . . how amusing! but man, are they goofy! the
extra dry
effect! . . . they bump into the screen! both together! whoopsie-daisy, they pick each other up . . . in each other's arms . . .

"Doctor! Doctor! it's so good! Doctor, you must promise me! . . . the minute you get back to Paris!"

The other one interrupts . . . she clamors . . . she demands . . .

"Ping-Pong! . . . Ping-Pong!"

Marie-Thérèse wants to play Ping-Pong . . . this minute . . . there's a table. . . but the rackets?. . . I think they'll find them over there, I point, between the divan and the wood box . . . the terrible junkpile at the other end of the room . . .

"You'll look for them later! . . . first eat!"

No! they want to play now! "Ping-Pong! Ping-Pong!" . . . the hussies! . . . they can't wait! . . . they go over . . . they stamp their feet! they get tangled up in the junk! yards and yards of material! . . . rivers of velvet! . . . and bodices! . . . and curtain rods! . . . both countesses get down on their knees . . . they've got to find those rackets! . . . they stir up dust! clouds and billows! . . . they start sneezing . . . I suggest a glass of champagne . . . and another . . . they he down . . . la Thor von Thorfels attacks me again . . .

"Doctor! Doctor! you won't forget? . . . Doctor, you promise me?"

Of course! . . . of course! . . . I promise everything . . . Marie-Thérèse is working hard . . . rooting like mad . . . on her knees . . . I foresee a pretty spell of lumbago . . . from under the rags she extracts an iron, a cook pot, three steamer chairs . . . and so much dust that we're all coughing . . . the
Revizor
too . . . he's choking . . . I can't lift him up! . . .

"Doctor! . . . Doctor!"

Dense clouds, we can't see a thing! . . . there's no more champagne . . . I say to Le Vig . . .

"Go on . . . get some . . . there's more!"

He dives in, he rummages, he comes up . . . with some kind of liniment . . . we taste it . . . the ladies take a big swig . . . it burns . . .
waah!
. . . they blow . . . they want more black bread! . . . Le Vig has a way of cutting it very fine . . . he serves himself, then the ladies, and then the beat-up
Revizor
. . . we'd almost forgotten him . . . I've got to admit, the morale was lifting! . . . We're practically enjoying ourselves . . . the floor's jiggling . . . the walls . . . who cares! . . . if we're not used to it. . . and the Fortresses . . . who would be? . . . shaking a little more than yesterday, it seems to me . . . Berlin is worse! . . . but one thing I want to make clear: I don't touch the stuff! . . . I don't get drunk! . . . let the ladies quench their thirst, not me! not me! . . . straight whiskey! no water for the ladies! . . . but they've swilled too much too quick . . . if they had any sense, they'd take it easy, and stop looking for those rackets . . . burrowing in all that crap and not finding anything . . . just making us cough! . . . lie down!"

They're not in the mood!

"Lie down, I say!"

They're so fuddled . . . I order them around . . . they collapse! . . . I think they're going to vomit . . . no! . . . they fall asleep . . . instantly . . . the
Revizor
too! . . . liquor has its good side! . . . I take advantage and shoot the lot of them . . . an ampul each! . . . they'll sleep at least three hours . . . 4 ccs.  . . .

"And now, son, the isba!"

All right with him . . . he hasn't had anything but liniment to drink . . .

"Lili, wait for us!"

Soon as we get outside I see a fire . . . between the manor and the bushes . . . a wood fire with a spitted goose on it . . . they don't give a damn any more! absolutely
verboten
to touch the geese! . . . "Reich Ordinance". . . first-degree sabotage! . . . but Kracht's the police, not me! . . . let them have their fun! . . . Hjalmar could take an interest, but he's far away! . . . my job is strictly the health angle . . . better not go too near, it seems to me . . . from a distance . . .

"Nichts neues? . . . nothing new?"

"Nein! nein!

We won't investigate . . . about-face! . . . not that I'm convinced by their
"neini nein!"
but Kracht'll go see . . . ah, here he is!

"Everything is all right!"

I tell him . . . suits him fine . . . he doesn't want to know any more, he goes back with us . . . the snow's melting now, slush . . . he's got boots . . . the peristyle . . . the drawing room . . . the two countesses flat on the carpet. . . dead to the world . . . arms every which way, legs ditto, skirts in tatters . . . what's been going on? . . . Kracht asks me . . .

"Violence?'

"No, they've been drinking! . . . they were thirsty . . . very thirsty . . ."

"Have they vomited?"

"No, not yet!"

"They didn't take poison "

"No . . . I don't think so . . ."

Actually they're just sleeping it off . . . but why did they slurp it down so fast? . . . and eat hardly anything? . . . 'the ladies' nerves were frazzled . . . the shock of the alcohol, especially champagne! . . . had knocked them for a loop . . . Kracht points put that they might be more comfortable on the divans, one each . . .

"Right you are, Kracht. . . girls, you're wanted up front!"

Not very clever, but I'm tired, I'm entitled, hell, I've toiled a bit more than these two lushes with their skirts around their necks . . . we hoist them by the feet and shoulders . . . and put them down, each on a divan . . . Thor von Thorfels opens one eye . . .

"Doctor! . . . Doctor! . . . you won't forget! . . . the Orangerie! . . . the Orangerie!"

"No, Madame, I promise!"

She goes back to sleep. . . even that stinko she doesn't forget the Toileries . . . I'd promised to go as soon as we got back . . . and to rue Saint-Placide . . . why that particular street? . . . well, I'd promised . . . the two of them were sawing wood . . . fine! but drunk so fast? . . . drugged for sure . . . Kracht had reason to wonder . . . slightly abnormal . . .

"What do you think, Le Vig?"

He's sitting there beside me . . . looking up in the air . . .

"Say, it's not just the walls! . . . the ceiling! get a load of that crack!"

Not so surprising, but all the same . . . the ceiling only started to go yesterday . . .

"Le Vig, you remind me of the Gauls!" . . . afraid the sky was falling . . .

Boo-oom!
. . . not without reason! . . . a chunk of plaster . . . another . . . it's crumbling! . . . the explosions are getting closer . . . from Berlin-and the north . . . it seems . . . anyway, no more isba duty for us . . . Kracht's turn! . . . it's coming on night. . . we've had a bite to eat, we're all right . . . maybe another ampul for the
Revizor?
. . . oh, he'll wake me . . . he'll complain . . . our two noble ladies are sighing . . . each on a divan . . . I listen . . . they're asleep . . . what about us? the floor isn't very comfortable . . . we can't kid ourselves . . . all we can do is lie down . . . and keep half an eye open . . . there's a blanket for each of us . . . plenty . . . I ask Le Vig . . .

"Do you think the Gauls slept?"

He's just getting ready to answer . . .
rat-tat-tat
. . . the sound of a motorcycle . . . and another . . .
rat-tat-tat!
. . . in the park, right here! . . . and nearer! . . . in the peristyle . . . we won't get up and look! . . .

"What is it?"

There are no motorcycles in Zornhof . . . at least we've never seen one. . . what can it be? . . . two more . . .
rat-tat-tat!
. . . coming for us? . . . better not show our faces . . . Germans? . . . Russians? . . . English? . . . they don't come in . . . they're talking outside . . . easy . . . they're Krauts! . . . Kracht comes down . . . let him talk to them! . . . I prick up my ears . . . I understand a bit . . . they've come from Berlin . . . what do they want? . . . their talk is so chopped and guttural I almost feel like going but to ask them . . . ah, another
rat-tat-tat
. . . much louder! . . . with a load of tin attached . . . chains . . . it's an armored car, I know that sound . . . and a second later Harras, his voice . . . no mistake, it's him! taken his time all right . . . the fly-by-night! . . . where's he come from? and laughing! the limit! . . . he dares! his style:
oh-ho-ho!
I don't see what's so funny! . . . he's talking to the others, he's not in a hurry . . . we can show ourselves!

"Heil!
Harras! . . .
heil bon Dieu!"

This is the end all right! . . . and an armored car! well anyway, the stinker's here! . . . I light right into him . . .

"Harras! you crook! I decorate you! palms and the cross! they damn near croaked us! those Hottentots of yours have killed everybody! . . . you won't catch us taking any more vacations around here! . . . some vacation! a nerve cure!"

I make him laugh . . .
oh-ho-ho!
we've always made him laugh . . . I look at him, he's lost weight . . . yes, but there's plenty left . . . anyway two of me . . . he's not downcast . . . oh no! there's a man that can't be sad . . . maybe he's traveled too much . . . I tell him . . . I ask him . . .

"No! . . . no, my dear fellow! . . . we've had our little troubles . . . lots . . . thousands! . . . worse than here, old man! . . . worse! you don't believe me?"

No surprise to me that Grünwald's not there any more . . . the telegraph . . . and the big bunker . . . and the Finnish colleagues . . . and the typists . . . all blasted, squashed and flambé! . . . wiped out! . . . in two nights! . . . only two nights!
pfff! 
. . . he acts it out . . .
pfff!
we must have seen it from here? . . . oh yes! every night! . . . even in the afternoon! . . . 
pfff! pfff! 

"And Lisbon?"

I ask.

"No more Lisbon! . . . the medical authorities on the other side . . . same thing . . . they don't know where they're at! . . . oh-ho! they're ridiculous! . . . so am I! . . . cholera? it never gets off the ground! . . . one dubious smallpox case in Beirut! . . . seven cases of leprosy in Dakar! . . . that's all! . . . in the armies? zero! . . . the Russians, the Turks, nothing! . . . civilians, soldiers, all inoculated . . . it's the end, Destouches! . . . not even any alcoholics left in France! . . . one solitary case of delirium tremens in Toulouse! . . . my poor colleague, war is driving out the plague! . . . and curing the insane! . . . Dürer's got to be done over!
oh-ho-ho!
. . . done over! . . . his Four Horsemen, you know . . . all antiseptic! antiseptic! this war will never end! the aseptic Apocalypse! back to the slingshot, colleague! . . . the crossbow! . . . the secret weapon? . . .
blaaah!
oh-ho-ho!
. . .