Amerika (23 page)

“So I'm to blame,” said Karl, and he paused, as if awaiting from his judges a kind word that might give him the courage to go on defending himself, but the word never came, “I'm to blame only for taking that man, whose name is Robinson—he's an Irishman—into the dormitory. As for everything else he said, he said so only because he was drunk and it's not true.”

“So you didn't promise him any money?” asked the head waiter.

“Yes,” said Karl, and he regretted that he had forgotten this altogether; whether out of rashness or distraction, he had all too definitely called himself blameless. “Rather than go fetch it, I wanted to give him the tips I had earned last night.” And to prove this was so, he pulled the money from his pocket and showed a couple of small coins in the palm of his hand.

“You keep getting lost,” said the head waiter. “To be able to believe what you say, one would continually need to forget what you just said. So first you took that man—I can't even believe you when you say his name is Robinson; ever since Ireland has existed, there's never been an Irishman of that name—first you say that you merely took him into the dormitory, which is, by the way, already sufficient to get you thrown out at once—and that you didn't initially promise him any money, but then when one surprises you with the question, you admit that you did promise him some money. But this isn't a question-and-answer game; we want to hear your justification for your actions. At first you didn't want to fetch the money and instead give him tips for today, but then it turns out that you do still have that money on you, so you obviously did intend to fetch more money, and your lengthy absence supports this interpretation. Finally, there would really be nothing odd about your wanting to fetch more money from your trunk for him, but it's certainly odd that you're trying to deny this so emphatically. Just as you seek the whole time to conceal the fact that you made the man drunk at the hotel, and there can be no doubt whatsoever about this since you yourself admitted that he came on his own but was unable to leave on his own, and of course, in the dormitory he himself shouted out that he was your guest. So there are only two questions that must still be clarified, which, if you wish to simplify the affair, you can answer yourself; besides, we can establish this without your help. First, how did you succeed in gaining access to the pantries, and second, how did you amass enough money to be able to give some away?”

“It's impossible to defend oneself in the absence of goodwill,” Karl said to himself, and he ceased to answer the head waiter, however painful for Therese this might be. He knew that whatever he could say would end up seeming very different from the way it had been intended and that the way they assessed the matter was critical, since it alone would determine the final judgment of good or evil.

“He isn't answering,” said the head cook.

“It's the most sensible thing he can do,” said the head waiter.

“He's sure to come up with something,” said the head porter, taking the hand that had just engaged in cruel acts and stroking his beard delicately with it.

“Be quiet,” the head cook said to Therese, who was beginning to sob. “Look, he's not answering, so how can I do anything for him? After all, I'm the one the head waiter is going to fault. But tell me, Therese, was there something I could have done and neglected to do?” How could Therese know how to answer this, and what could be gained by asking and entreating the little girl so publicly, which might cause the head cook to lose face with the two gentlemen?

“Madame Head Cook,” said Karl, pulling himself together once again for the sole purpose of sparing Therese the obligation of answering, “I don't think I disgraced you at all, and after examining the matter carefully, everybody else would have to come to the same conclusion.”

“Everybody else,” said the head porter, pointing a finger at the head waiter, “that's a barb directed at you, Mr. Isbary.”

“Well, Madame Head Cook,” said the latter, “it's half past six, and now it's time, high time. I think it would be best if you gave me the last word in this affair, which has been dealt with far too leniently.”

Little Giacomo had entered and sought to approach Karl, but startled by the silence in the room, he gave up and waited.

Ever since Karl had last spoken, the head cook kept her eyes trained on him and nothing suggested that she had heard the head waiter's remark. Her eyes looked squarely at Karl; they were large and blue but slightly clouded by age and constant strain. On seeing her stand thus, feebly shaking the chair in front of her, one might easily have expected her to say: “Well, Karl, when I think about it, I realize that this affair has not yet been properly settled, and as you rightly pointed out, a more careful investigation is called for. And we will conduct it right away, for whether one approves of this course of action or not, justice must be done.”

Instead, however, after a brief pause that nobody had dared interrupt—except for the clock, which, confirming what the head waiter had said, struck half past six, accompanied, as everybody realized, by all the other clocks in the hotel; so that in one's ear and in one's imagination the sound seemed like the twofold twitching of one great disembodied impatience—the head cook said: “No, Karl, no, no! We're not going to allow ourselves to accept that. Just causes have a quite distinctive appearance, whereas yours, I must admit, does not. I can say this and am indeed obliged to say so since I'm the one who was most favorably inclined toward you when I came in. Look, even Therese has fallen silent.” (But she had not fallen silent; she was weeping.)

Overcome by a new resolve, the head cook faltered and said, “Karl, come here,” and when he approached her—the head waiter and the head porter gathered at once behind his back and struck up a lively conversation—she put her left hand around him and led him and the impassive, docile Therese far into the room, then back and forth a few times, before saying: “It is possible Karl—and indeed, you seem to be confident of this, for I simply could not understand you otherwise—that such an inquiry will corroborate that you are right, at least in certain details. Well, why not? Perhaps you actually did greet the head porter. I'm even quite sure of that; besides, I know quite well what I ought to think of the head porter; as you can see, I'm still very frank with you. But minor justifications of that sort won't be of any help to you. Over the course of many years I've come to respect the head waiter as a good judge of character; of all the people I know, he is the most reliable, and he has after all stated clearly that you are guilty, which I too find incontrovertible. You may simply have acted rashly, or then again you may not be the person I initially assumed you were. And yet”—she stopped for a moment, looked back at the two gentlemen, and then went on—“yet I still cannot give up on the idea that you're a fundamentally decent boy.”

“Madame Head Cook! Madame Head Cook!” admonished the head waiter, who had caught her eye.

“We're just about finished,” said the head cook, who now began to address Karl more rapidly and insistently: “Listen, Karl, the way I see things, I'm even glad the head waiter doesn't want to open an investigation, for if he tried to do so, I should have to put a stop to it for your sake. There's no need for anyone to find out how—and with what provisions—you fed the man, who can hardly be one of your former comrades, as you made out, for you had a big fight with them as you were saying goodbye and therefore you could not be hosting one of them now. So it can only be some acquaintance or other you met in some city bar at night and quite rashly accepted as a buddy. Karl, how could you have concealed all this from me? Perhaps you found life in the dormitory unbearable and this was the innocent reason for your nighttime ambles, but if so, why did you never say a word about it? You know I wanted to get you a room of your own and gave up on the idea only after you repeatedly asked me not to do so. It now seems as if you chose the dormitory because you felt less restricted there. And you kept your money in my safe and brought me your tips every week, so for God's sake, boy, where did you get the money for your diversions, and where did you intend to find the money for your friend? Naturally, I cannot even drop a hint to the head waiter about any of this just now, for that might make an investigation unavoidable. So you must definitely leave the hotel, and in fact as quickly as possible. Go straight to the Brenner Pension—you were there with Therese several times—and on the strength of this recommendation they will take you in without asking for payment”—the head cook drew a gold pencil from her blouse and wrote a few lines on a visiting card without even interrupting what she was saying—“I shall send on your trunk right away; Therese, run to the lift boys' wardrobe and pack his trunk” (but Therese did not stir, for just as she had endured all the sorrow, she now wanted to witness fully the improvement in Karl's affair thanks to the kindness of the head cook).

Somebody opened the door a crack without letting himself be seen and shut it again at once. This was evidently intended for Giacomo, for he stepped forward and said: “Rossmann, I have a message for you.” “Just a moment,” said the head cook, and put her business card into Karl's pocket as he listened, head inclined, “I shall keep your money for now. You know you can entrust me with it. Stay at home today and think over the affair, and then tomorrow—I don't have time today and have already been here far too long—I shall come to the Brenner, and then we'll see what else we can do for you. I shall not abandon you; I can already assure you of that. It's not the future you should be concerned about, but rather the recent past.” Whereupon she tapped him lightly on the shoulder and approached the head waiter; Karl lifted his head and looked at this large, imposing woman, who set off at a calm pace and with sovereign bearing.

“Well,” said Therese, who had stayed behind with him, “aren't you pleased everything has turned out so well?” “Oh yes,” said Karl, and he smiled at her, although he had no idea why he should be pleased about being dismissed as a thief. Therese's eyes glittered with joy, as if she could not care less whether Karl had done something wrong and been justly condemned, if only they let him go, either honorably or in disgrace. And it was Therese who was behaving thus, the very Therese who handled her own affairs so meticulously that whenever the head cook used some not entirely unambiguous expression, she would turn it over in her mind and analyze it for weeks at a time. He asked her quite deliberately: “Will you pack my case right away and send it off?” Involuntarily, he had to shake his head in astonishment over the speed with which Therese took in the question; she was so convinced that certain items in the trunk needed to be hidden from everyone that she failed to glance at Karl or give him her hand and simply whispered: “Yes, of course, Karl, right away, I'll pack your trunk right away.” And she was already gone.

Now, however, Giacomo, could no longer contain himself, and upset over the long wait, he called out in a loud voice: “Rossmann, that man is rolling about in the corridor downstairs and won't let us cart him off. We wanted to send him to the hospital, but he's putting up a fight and insists you would never stand for his being taken to the hospital. He told us we should hire a car and send him home, and you'd pay for the car. Is that what you want?”

“The man does seem to trust you,” said the head waiter. Karl simply shrugged his shoulders and counted his money into Giacomo's hand: “That's all I have,” he said.

“I was also told to ask if you want to accompany him in the car,” added Giacomo, jingling the money.

“He's not leaving,” said the head cook.

“So, Rossmann,” said the head waiter quickly, without even waiting until Giacomo had left, “you're dismissed this instant.”

The head porter nodded several times, as if those were his very words and the head waiter were merely repeating them.

“I cannot state the reasons for your dismissal out loud, for in that case I'd have to have you locked up.”

The head porter gave the head cook a remarkably severe glance, for he must have realized that she was instrumental in bringing about this excessively lenient treatment.

“And now go to Bess, get dressed, hand over your livery, and leave the building at once, and I do mean at once.”

The head cook closed her eyes so as to soothe Karl. As he took his bow, he caught a glimpse of the head waiter clasping the head cook's hand, as if furtively, and playing with it. With heavy steps, the head porter accompanied Karl to the door, which he did not let him shut but held open so as to call out after him: “I want to see you pass me at the main gate in fifteen seconds sharp, don't forget.”

Karl hurried along as fast as he could, simply in order to avoid being pestered at the main gate, but everything took a great deal longer than he had wished. First Bess could not be found, there were of course people everywhere since it was breakfast time, then it turned out that a boy had borrowed Karl's old trousers, and Karl was therefore obliged to search through the clothes stands at the foot of virtually every bed until he found his trousers, so that five minutes had probably elapsed before Karl reached the main gate. Walking just ahead of him was a lady flanked by four gentlemen. They approached a large waiting automobile, the door to which was held open by a footman who held his free left arm stretched out stiffly to the side, which looked most formal. Karl had in vain hoped to slip out behind those elegant people without being observed. The head porter now seized him by the hand, drawing him in between two gentlemen, to whom he apologized. “You call that a quarter of a minute,” said the head porter, looking sideways at Karl, as though at a malfunctioning clock. “So come here,” he said, and led him into the large porter's lodge, which Karl had always wanted to explore, but now that he was being pushed in by the porter, he entered it most mistrustfully. He had already reached the doorway when he turned around and tried to push aside the head porter and get away. “No, no, it's this way,” said the head porter, and spun Karl around. “But I've been dismissed,” said Karl, meaning that he no longer had to take orders from anybody at the hotel. “Well, you've not been dismissed as long as I'm still holding you,” said the head porter, which was certainly true too.