The Journey (22 page)

They don’t have to show their papers, and for that matter they couldn’t if they wanted to, since they don’t have any to show. They are trusted because they’ve been rounded up, and they have been rounded up because they are imprisoned. That’s why it’s all right. If one permits something or orders it, a trust also evolves that forms a set of assumptions that prove true, even if they are not the only assumptions formed. Each single instance cannot be reviewed, Fritz, yet in the army hazy dreams disappear, because here pure essence is realized. You are not just pretending, you are it, a pure essence. That’s why you should not worry that no one knows who you are, because you are known, even more than you know yourself.

And so the gathered prisoners leave the barracks through the entrance through which they entered only a few minutes before. No lengthy hospitality has been extended to the men in these hallowed halls, yet what good would it have been if it had. Pure essence and pure purpose won’t stand for any delay. You’re on top of it all, Fritz. Nobody seems to worry that the youths with tools hurry on through or might become unruly. The ringing sound of the blades being sharpened is seen as harmless. Nothing out of line occurs, nor is one’s faith in one another betrayed. Willingly the prisoners fall in together as they gather before the barracks without anyone needing to order them. Such willing cooperation anticipates each command, thus paving the way for the freedom of the trains. The head of the train company must be very pleased. Whenever it pleases him he can see
the trains headed just where they’re supposed to. Nothing can come as a complete surprise. Everything is there and in order, just as on the first day of creation. Any deviation is out of the question, because it is not accounted for in the plans. No one should think anything special if he hears a train. It’s not hard to refrain from certain anxieties if you are hauled off. You only have to come along, which anyone can do. Each single train car is a component of the willing allegiance of the entire fleet.

You want to know where you are headed? That’s not necessary, because you’ll know soon enough. Everything has been set up without even disturbing you. There will be a whistle, just wait there. Your suggestions and objections are too late, there can be no allowance made for them any longer. If you think that it would be any better in Leitenberg, you’ve got it wrong. The magic order also rules there. To the same degree. It’s better if you don’t know too much about it. Abandon yourself to your dreams, if that comforts you, but you shouldn’t believe them! Beware of curiosity! It only lays the ground for fear and anxiety as soon as it’s satisfied.

The break is over. Everyone get up! Paul walks on, Fritz walks on. All three hundred men walk on together. Even some of the uniformed officers just coming out of the barracks. They all walk on together. They all certainly have a destination ahead of them, because that’s the way it is. And so it comes to pass. So it was said in the beginning, and so now the only thing remaining is for it all to be fulfilled. The path falls steeply down away from the dumping grounds. Onward, left, right! Just get on the train. The journey has already begun. Is Captain Küpenreiter waving at the train? Whoever travels along does not look around and therefore does not know. Whoever refuses to travel will immediately be shot, and with good reason. Here foot traps will be set! So forward! Stay in line! No one will hesitate to shoot! Warning! Rattraps have been laid out! No stopping! Watch it!
È pericoloso sporgersi!
So move it!… That’s written everywhere because so many dangers are lurking.
Latet anguis in herba!
That’s what the Romans have already posted in their parks. Everywhere there are warnings against loitering. Vermin are unhealthy and will be spit out in reams. But to spit openly in the train car is forbidden because of tuberculosis. Shooting someone is much more hygienic if there is lime available. The town’s plans for disinfection are to rid Leitenberg of dreck. In Ruhenthal it’s no different. Cleansing takes place everywhere, and for the same humanitarian
reasons is everywhere forwarded, endured, forbidden, and directed. The train is directed toward its destination, and therefore cannot lessen its pace. Leaning out of the windows is dangerous because of the engine smoke, and therefore it is forbidden. The loss of the right hand leads to serious bodily injury. One recognizes a dog by its muzzle. According to the law, nobody has the right to choose his own end. Stopping is forbidden because the journey has begun. If there is no travel, there is no way to pass the time. For proper execution, shake and mix fifteen drops in a glass of water. Not by the trains but rather through human indifference shall you recognize them! Credit and safety above all! A general insurance society versus executions and legitimized assaults.

The train slowly chugs through the colorful morning landscape. It climbs. To the left and right larkspur and scabious and other flowers grow out of the dust of the streets and do not shrink away from the people passing nearby. The street shrinks to a narrow pass that is bordered by fences, behind which plums and apples can be seen. Then comes the freedom of a street that opens out beyond the narrow pass as they slowly move on with their cautious feet, left and right and left and right. Don’t look around, like in duck-duck-goose. Whoever travels last, travels best. Caroline always said that it’s always better to ride in one of the middle cars, because in any train accident the risk to one’s life is much less there. The window has to be closed in order to guard against the engine smoke. Otherwise kernels of soot can become lodged in the cornea and one has to then carefully wipe them away. But above all, travel on. It’s not so steep now, and the engine runs along freely. No one had better pull the emergency brake! Any mischief will be punished, because it will disrupt the traffic, as well as cause danger. Take express trains that only stop in a few stations. Enjoy the luxury of a dining car. It’s an endless journey that no one should have to finish. Fritz, the passengers should get on well with one another! Children need to be kept on a leash in the train. Exceptions are only tolerated in especially dangerous conditions. The journey’s final destination needs to be reached on time, and everything must be executed punctually. That’s why the soldiers have brought along their rifles. You take part in the journey at your own risk. Orders are only followed, fear is superfluous. No using the facilities when the train stops in a station! The fruit gardens, the vegetable fields, it all can begin to rot. No, let your fear fall by the wayside;
it should have gotten off at the last stop, it’s a blind passenger, a lost piece of luggage that no one inquires about. Fear will be auctioned off by the stationmaster and sold or stowed away behind the impenetrable fog, or in the river that flows into Leitenberg and passes by. Eventually fear will be swept into the sea in which everything is lost and through which it will be transformed by the sharp corrosiveness of salt. The execution is over, but what it leaves behind will merge with all fears and be carried to the grave.

The mortuary in Ruhenthal is empty. Stamping merrily, the horses wait outside in front of the transport wagon onto which the bearers slide the coffins. The dead have attained the peace they deserve. They have not sought their death, but they have attained it. It does not matter where the end has been fulfilled. What matters is that everyone has met his end even before the journey commences. Sorrow is slight when vanity is not allowed to adorn it. Once summoned, the forbidden find it easier not to exist. The fulfillment of a command is no longer expected. The briefly held services for these dead are not decked out with memorials. Death announcements are not mailed off. There are no funeral clothes. Somber faces do not hang around. The ancient prayers and farewell songs are performed, but with marked hurry, certainly not because there is just one, but rather so many to say good-bye to. Time is pressing. It’s very cold in the hall. Two weak lightbulbs cast a murky light. On each coffin there is a note. Otherwise those left behind, who have shown up pale and half frozen, won’t know where they should put them in the half hour they have to serve life’s transience.

“Where is Father?” Zerlina asks in an even tone.

“I believe he’s over there,” Caroline answers woodenly.

Paul bends over to inspect the writing on the note cards. “No, Father is here.”

Then they walk over and stand there. Leopold is dead. He didn’t want to die in Ruhenthal, but he didn’t make it and was taken away before he could go home, which is what he always wanted.

“It’s not so bad here, everything is all right, though it could be better. I want to get away from here. A doctor belongs in his practice. I’ll go to the Ministry of Health and give Dr. Kmoch a piece of my mind. The patients are waiting. I need to help them get well.”

Leopold is sick. He lies in his narrow room on a rough wooden bedstead. In addition to him there are seven other old people. None of them has any strength. They cough. They are sick, but they will recover. That’s what they have promised themselves and said to one another. Nurse Dora doesn’t disagree. She is impartial. She comes and brings soup. She brings a bedpan. She brings bone char. She carries away the spittoons. She takes the broom and wraps it with a damp cloth when she sweeps so that the sick don’t cough as much. Once a day the doctor comes. His name is Dr. Plato. Leopold had asked for his help. He had asked that a proper diet be prescribed. But here the doctor prescribes nothing. Dr. Plato has no time. He hardly listens to Leopold’s recommendations. In many such cases fresh air would be recommended. Chronic cough calls for it. But if you open the window here, only dust flies in, and it’s much too cold. Here there’s hardly anything but aspirin and bone char. That’s not enough to handle everything, and bed rest alone is not enough. There should be no more than three patients in this room. When the window is closed there’s an awful smell. The diet contains too many fluids. The preparations leave a lot to be desired. Dr. Plato has no idea of the requisitions that should be made available to any modern doctor. The new generation has learned nothing, even though their education has been extended by two years. It’s madness to just keep giving people thin soup. The heart and kidneys can’t stand it. If you just prick them, water will come pouring out, but why have so much going in in the first place? Besides, it would only help their state of health, but as long as the general approach does not change there is no help that will last. One shouldn’t be surprised that illness in Ruhenthal so often takes a fatal course. It is the task of medicine to use all available materials and the latest scientific understanding to cure all illnesses, to handle all possible complications in a timely manner, to extend the life of each patient, and to warn the healthy as soon as possible before the onset of real pain. But there can be no talk of that here. Has Dr. Plato never heard of the Hippocratic oath? It doesn’t appear he has. Which is why injustice prevails, positions of responsibility fulfilled by nothing more than goodwill. Nurse Dora cannot do it all by herself. Someone will pay for it someday. A Dr. Lustig is forced to haul rubbish, but a young greenhorn …? Leopold does not want to dwell on it too much, yet he is annoyed that the most basic responsibilities have been disregarded.

“That’s unheard of, Zerlina, that never happened in my time! One would be ashamed for anything like that to occur. They should let the newspaper know about it!”

“There is no newspaper here, Father.”

“Yes, how unfortunate! When there’s no paper the public fails to get the necessary information. A healthy press can call attention to a number of problems. The government becomes more attentive and leads an inquiry. I’ve often seen it. There was a case … a case … I don’t recall now, Zerlina. Have you seen no newspaper anywhere? What’s the news?”

“Please, Father, don’t talk so loud!”

“I can talk as loud as I wish. Treading softly doesn’t suit well my sense of academic honor. I am a free man, do you understand? Nurse Dora understands better than you do.”

“But Father, no one says that you are not as free as one can be in Ruhenthal. But look, there are others around you who want their peace and quiet.”

“No, Zerlina, that is too much! I am amply considerate, that I know. The patients are fond of me. I was always against having so many patients in such a small room and amid such unhygienic conditions. Dr. Plato doesn’t want to listen to me. You can’t blame me!”

“Take it easy! I’m not blaming you, but please, please, don’t shout so, I implore you! There is no evil intention behind there being so many in this room. There simply is no room.”

“What do you mean there’s no room? If there’s no room, then one indeed has to find some! If people do right, everything will go all right. Otherwise not even all of Ruhenthal will do any good.”

“Please, Father, try to understand! People do mean well, at least Dr. Plato does. But—are you listening?—it’s the ones who sent us here that don’t.”

“Ah, yes indeed! You mean …”

“Yes, them. Which means we must be patient. Things will surely get better. That’s for sure! Soon we’ll be on our way home! That’s what I heard. Paul said so. Many others as well.”

“I did ask you, Zerlina, whether you had seen a newspaper?”

“No, I haven’t. But someone told Paul that there have been bombing
runs done under cloud cover, but for real. Supposedly
The Leitenberg Daily
wrote about it.”

Leopold smiles happily. Zerlina straightens up his bed and props up the pillow. Leopold stretches and says cheerily, “Thank you, Zerlina. I’ll soon be back on my feet. Nurse Dora completely agrees. I’m half a doctor, but the good half. Lying down so long has weakened me and is not conducive to the lungs. I need to practice standing and walking.”

“Soon, Papa, soon! Just be patient a while longer.”

“You always say ‘soon’ …! What a strange child you are, Zerlina! Tomorrow I will get up. I’ve no time to lose!”

“Good, Father, tomorrow we will see how you feel.”

“Nonsense, we won’t see anything! I’m fed up with waiting. Whoever lets himself go goes to hell. Next week I’ll go back to my job again on the garbage detail. And next month we’ll go home. I will write down my experiences from here and publish them. About the hygiene in a prison camp and about the prevention of a lice epidemic. I have it all here in my head. Bring me a paper tomorrow, Zerlina, and a pencil as well. I want to make some notes now. As long as I am still of service, any free time has to be made full use of.”