The Sons (8 page)

But Karl had no feelings for that girl. Hemmed in by an ever-receding past, she sat in her kitchen beside the counter, resting her elbows on top of it. She looked at him whenever he came to the kitchen to get a glass of water for his father or do some errand for his mother. Sometimes, awkwardly sitting sideways at the counter, she would write a letter,
drawing her inspiration from Karl’s face. Sometimes she would sit with one hand over her eyes, impervious to anything that was said to her. Sometimes she would kneel in her tiny room next to the kitchen and pray to a wooden crucifix; then Karl would feel shy if he passed by and caught a glimpse of her through the crack of the slightly open door. Sometimes she would race around the kitchen and jump back, laughing like a witch, if Karl got in her way. Sometimes she would shut the kitchen door after Karl entered and hold it shut until he had to beg to be let out. Sometimes she would bring him things he did not even want and press them silently into his hand. And once she called him “Karl” and led him, dumbfounded at this unusual familiarity, into her tiny room, sighing and grimacing, and locked the door. Then she flung her arms around his neck, almost choking him, and while urging him to take off her clothes, she was actually taking off his and laid him on her bed, as if she would never give him up to anyone else and would caress and care for him to the end of time. “Oh Karl, my Karl!” she cried; it was as if her eyes were devouring him, while his eyes saw nothing at all and he felt uncomfortable in all the warm bedclothes which she seemed to have piled up for him alone. Then she lay down by him and wanted some secrets from him, but he could tell her none, and she got angry, either in jest or in earnest, shook him, listened to his heart, offered her breast that he might listen to hers in turn, but could not get him to do it, pressed her naked belly against his body, felt with her hand between his legs, so disgustingly that his head and neck started up from the pillows, then thrust her body several times against him—it felt as if she were a part of himself, and for that reason perhaps he was seized by a terrible feeling of need. With tears running down his cheeks he reached his own bed at last, after many entreaties from her to come again. That was all that had happened, and yet his uncle had managed to make a big issue out of it.
And so the cook had also been thinking about him and had informed his uncle of his arrival. That had been very good of her and some day he would repay her for it, if he could.

“And now,” cried the Senator, “I want you to tell me openly whether I am your uncle or not?”

“You are my uncle,” said Karl, kissing his hand and receiving a kiss on the brow. “I’m very glad to have found you, but you’re mistaken if you think my father and mother never speak kindly of you. And besides that, you’ve got some points quite wrong in your speech; what I mean to say is that it didn’t all happen like that in reality. But you can’t really be expected to understand these things at such a distance, and I also think it won’t do any great harm if these gentlemen are somewhat incorrectly informed about the details of something which really can’t be of much interest to them.”

“Well spoken,” said the Senator, leading Karl up to the Captain, who was clearly sympathetic, and asking, “Haven’t I got a splendid nephew?”

“I am delighted,” said the Captain, making the sort of bow which only those trained in the military can carry off, “to have met your nephew, Senator. My ship is honored to have provided the setting for such a reunion. Undoubtedly, the voyage in steerage must have been very unpleasant, but how are we to know who might be traveling with us down below? We do everything possible to make conditions tolerable, far more, for instance, than the American lines do, but to turn such a passage into a pleasure cruise is more than we’ve been able to manage yet.”

“It did me no harm,” said Karl.

“It did him no harm!” repeated the Senator, laughing loudly.

“Except that I’m afraid I’ve lost my …” and with that he remembered all that had happened and all that remained to be done, and he looked around him and saw the others
still in their same places, silent with respect and surprise, their eyes fixed upon him. Only the harbor officials, so far as one could tell from their stern and self-satisfied faces, betrayed some regret at having come at such an unpropitious time, and the pocket watch they had laid on the table before them was probably more important to them than everything that had happened or might still happen there in that room.

The first to express his sympathy, after the Captain, was curiously enough the stoker. “I congratulate you heartily,” he said, and shook Karl’s hand in a way that was also meant to express something like gratitude. Yet when he turned to the Senator with the same words the Senator drew back, as if the stoker were exceeding his rights; and the stoker immediately desisted.

But the others now saw what was expected of them and at once pressed in a confused throng around Karl and the Senator. And so it happened that Karl even received Schubal’s congratulations, accepted them and thanked him for them. The last to advance in the ensuing lull were the harbor officials who spoke a few words in English, which made a comical impression.

The Senator was now perfectly in the mood to extract the last ounce of enjoyment from the situation by refreshing his own and the others’ minds with some less important details, and this was not merely tolerated but of course welcomed with interest by everyone. So he told them that he had entered in his notebook, for quick consultation should the occasion arise, his nephew’s most distinctive physical features as enumerated by the cook in her letter. During the stoker’s insufferable rantings, he had pulled out the notebook simply to distract himself, and had begun for his own amusement to compare the cook’s descriptions, which were naturally not those of a professional detective, with Karl’s appearance. “And that’s how to find a nephew!” he con
cluded proudly, as if he wanted to be congratulated all over again.

“What will happen to the stoker now?” asked Karl, ignoring his uncle’s last remarks. In his new circumstances he thought he was entitled to say whatever came into his mind.

“The stoker will get what he deserves,” said the Senator, “and what the Captain considers to be right. I think we have had enough, more than enough of the stoker, a view in which every gentleman here will certainly concur.”

“But that’s not the point in a question of justice,” said Karl. He was standing between his uncle and the Captain, and, perhaps influenced by his position, thought that he was holding the balance between them.

And yet the stoker seemed to have abandoned hope. He had thrust his hands halfway into the belt of his trousers, which together with a strip of checked shirt had come prominently into view during his excited tirade. That did not worry him in the least; he had displayed the misery of his heart, now they might as well see the rags that covered his body, and then they could drag him away. He had concluded that the attendant and Schubal, as the two least important men in the room, would do him that last kindness. Schubal would have peace then and no longer be driven to desperation, as the Head Purser had put it. The Captain could take on crowds of Rumanians; Rumanian would be spoken all over the ship; and then perhaps things would really improve. There would be no more stoker to pester the head office with his ravings, yet his last outburst would be remembered almost fondly, since, as the Senator expressly declared, it had been the indirect cause of his recognizing his nephew. The nephew himself had several times tried to help him and thus had already more than repaid him for his services in the recognition scene; it did not even occur to the
stoker to ask anything more from him now. Besides, even if he were the nephew of a senator, he was far from being a captain yet, and it was from the Captain’s mouth that the dire verdict would fall. And having reached these conclusions, the stoker did his best not to look at Karl, though unfortunately in that roomful of enemies there was no other resting-place for his eyes.

“Don’t misinterpret the situation,” said the Senator to Karl, “this may be a question of justice, but at the same time it’s a question of discipline. On this ship both of these, and most especially the latter, are entirely within the discretion of the Captain.”

“That’s right,” muttered the stoker. Those who heard him and understood smiled uneasily.

“But we have already obstructed the Captain for too long in his official duties, which must be piling up considerably now that he has reached New York, and it’s high time we left the ship, instead of adding to our sins by interfering quite unnecessarily in this petty quarrel between two mechanics and thus making something important of it. I understand your attitude perfectly, my dear nephew, but that very fact justifies me in hurrying you away from here immediately.”

“I shall have a boat lowered for you at once,” said the Captain, without for a moment taking exception to the Senator’s words, which surprised Karl greatly, since his uncle could be said to have humbled himself. The Head Purser rushed hastily to his desk and telephoned the Captain’s order to the boatswain.

“There’s hardly any time left,” Karl told himself, “but I can’t do anything without offending everybody. I really can’t desert my uncle now, just when he’s found me. The Captain is polite, certainly, but that’s all. When it comes to discipline, his politeness disappears. And my uncle certainly
told him what he felt. I don’t want to speak to Schubal; I’m sorry that I even shook hands with him. And all the other people here are of no consequence.”

With these thoughts in mind he slowly went over to the stoker, pulled the man’s right hand out of his belt and held it playfully in his.

“Why don’t you say something, dear friend?” he asked. “Why do you put up with everything?”

The stoker merely knitted his brow, as if he were seeking the right words for what he had to say. While doing this he looked down at his own hand and Karl’s.

“You’ve been treated unjustly, more than anyone else on this ship; I am positive of that.” And as Karl drew his fingers back and forth between the stoker’s, the stoker gazed around with shining eyes, as if blessed by a great happiness that no one could begrudge him.

“Now you must get ready to defend yourself, answer yes and no, or else these people won’t have any idea of the truth. You must promise me to do what I tell you, for I’m afraid, and with good reason, that I won’t be able to help you anymore.” And then Karl burst out crying and kissed the stoker’s hand, taking that rough and almost lifeless hand and pressing it to his cheek like a treasure that he would soon have to give up.—But now his uncle the Senator was at his side and gently yet firmly led him away.

“The stoker seems to have bewitched you,” he said, giving the Captain a knowing look over Karl’s head. “You felt lonely, then you found the stoker, and you’re grateful to him now; that’s all to your credit, I’m sure. But if only for my sake, don’t push things too far, learn to understand your position.”

Outside the door a hubbub had arisen, shouts could be heard; it sounded even as if someone were being brutally pushed against the door. A sailor entered in a somewhat disheveled state with a girl’s apron tied around his waist.
“There’s a mob outside,” he cried, thrusting out one elbow as if he were still pushing his way through the crowd. Finally he pulled himself together and was about to salute the Captain, when he noticed the apron, tore it off, threw it on the floor and shouted: “That’s disgusting; they’ve tied a girl’s apron on me.” Then he clicked his heels together and saluted. Someone began to laugh, but the Captain said sternly: “This is a fine state of affairs. Who is out there?”

“It’s my witnesses,” said Schubal, stepping forward. “I respectfully beg your pardon, sir, for their bad behavior. The crew sometimes get a little wild when they’ve reached port.”

“Bring them in at once!” the Captain ordered, then immediately turning to the Senator said politely but hastily: “Now please be good enough, Senator, to take your nephew and follow this man who will conduct you to your boat. I need hardly say what a pleasure and honor it has been for me to make your personal acquaintance. I only wish, Senator, that I may have an early opportunity to resume our interrupted talk about the state of the American fleet, and that it may again be interrupted in as pleasant a manner.”

“One nephew is quite enough for me, for the time being,” said Karl’s uncle, laughing. “And now accept my best thanks for your kindness, and goodbye. Besides, it isn’t altogether impossible that we”—he put his arm warmly around Karl—“might see quite a lot of you on our next voyage to Europe.”

“That would give me great pleasure,” said the Captain. The two gentlemen shook hands with each other, Karl barely touched the Captain’s hand in silent haste, for the latter’s attention was already engrossed by the fifteen people who were now being shepherded into the room by Schubal, somewhat chastened but still noisy enough. The sailor asked the Senator’s permission to lead the way and opened a path through the crowd for him and Karl, so that they passed
with ease through ranks of bowing figures. It seemed that these good-natured folk regarded the quarrel between Schubal and the stoker as a joke, and not even the Captain’s presence could make them take it seriously. Karl noticed among them the kitchen-maid Lina, who with a cheerful wink at him was now tying around her waist the apron which the sailor had flung away, for it was hers.

Still following the sailor, they left the office and turned into a small passage that brought them in a couple of steps to a little door, from which a short ladder led down to the boat that was waiting for them. Their conductor leapt down into the boat with a single bound, and the sailors in the boat rose and saluted. The Senator was just warning Karl to be careful how he came down, when Karl, as he stood on the top rung, burst into violent sobs. The Senator put his right hand under Karl’s chin, drew him close and caressed him with his left hand. In this posture they slowly descended step by step and, still clinging together, entered the boat, where the Senator found a comfortable place for Karl, immediately facing him. At a sign from the Senator the sailors pushed off from the ship and at once began rowing at full speed. They were scarcely a few yards from the ship when Karl made the unexpected discovery that they were on the side of the ship toward which the windows of the office looked out. All three windows were filled with Schubal’s witnesses, who saluted and waved in the most friendly way; even Uncle Jacob waved back and one of the sailors showed his skill by flinging a kiss up to the ship without interrupting the regular rhythm of his rowing. It was now as if there were really no stoker at all. Karl took a more careful look at his uncle, whose knees were almost touching his own, and doubts came into his mind whether this man would ever be able to take the stoker’s place. And his uncle evaded his eyes and stared at the waves on which their boat was tossing.