Berlin Alexanderplatz: The Story of Franz Biberkopf (21 page)

After they’re gone, having worked like brutes, Gerner closes the door of his lodgings, locks himself in and starts to booze with Gusta, that’s the least he can have. He can’t help trying all the various specimens, the best brands he is going to pass on to a few shopkeepers tomorrow, and both of them are happy at the idea, Gusta too, isn’t he her good husband and after all he is her husband, she’ll help him do it. From two till five they both sit there trying out all the various kinds, methodically, according to a plan. Deeply contented with the night’s work they collapse, both of them, tight to the gills, and fall over flat as logs.

Towards noon they are supposed to open the door. There’s a ringing, a tinkling, a pealing of bells. But the Gerners are the very ones who don’t open. How can they open in their stupor? But the people outside won’t give up, they bang at the door, and then Gusta suddenly notices something, sits up and begins to hammer away on Paul: “Paul there’s someone knockin’ outside, you got to open up.” First he says: “Where?” Then she pushes him out, they are smashing in the whole door, maybe it’s the postman. Paul gets up, puts on his trousers, opens the door. And then they march past him, three men, a whole gang, what do they want, have the boys come to get their stuff already, nope, these aren’t the same people. These are bulls, detectives, and they have an easy job, they’re astonished, they’re astounded, Herr Gerner, the superintendent, and here’s everything stacked up on the floor, in the hallway, in the room, bags, cases, bottles, straw, all jumbled up in a heap. The chief detective says: “I never saw such a beastly thing in all my life.”

And what has Gerner got to say for himself? What’s he going to say? He doesn’t say a word. He only stares at the bulls, he’s feeling rotten, the bloodhounds, if I had a gun, they wouldn’t get me out of here alive, the dirty bloodhounds. I suppose I ought to work all my life in a building shed, and let the profiteers put my money in their pockets? If they would only let me take another nip. But there’s nothing doing, he has to get dressed. “I guess you’ll let a man fasten his galluses before you take ‘im out.”

The woman blubbers and dodders: “But I don ‘t know nothin’ about it, chief. we’re respectable people, somebody musta trapped us, those cases there, we were sleeping soundly, you musta noticed it, somebody from the house musta played a dirty trick on us, chief. sure enough, heh, Paul, what’s this all about?” “You can tell all that at the station.” Gerner interrupts: “This lime, old girl, they broke into our place, too, during the night, the same gang as was there in the back, and that’s why they tell us to go to the station.” “You can tell that story at the station, or at headquarters, later on.” “I won’t walk to headquarters.” “We’re going to ride.” “My God, Gusta, I didn’t hear a sound when they broke in. I was sleeping like a beaver.” “Neither did I, Paul.”

Gusta tries to snatch two letters out of the chest of drawers, they’re from the tall chap, but one of the detectives sees her. “Let’s have a look. No, you can put them back. We’ll search the house later.”

She insists with mulish obstinacy: “Go ahead then, oughta be ashamed of yourselves, coming into a body’s house like that.” “All right, come along.”

She cries, does not look at her husband, screams and makes a scene and throws herself on the ground; they have to lift her up. The man curses and swears, but they hold him tight. “Are you going to do violence to that woman now?” Those low-down criminals, those blackmailers, they’re gone, and they left me to get caught with that stuff.

Galiop-a-Trot, Galiop-a-Trot, little Horsey starts trotting again

Franz Biberkopf, his hands in his pockets, his collar up over his ears, head and hat between his shoulders, did not take part in the conversation in the hallway or in the courtyard. He just listened and listened around in the crowd. Presently he looked on, as they all lined up on each side of the sidewalk, while the carpenter and his fat little wifie were being led through the hall to the street. Now they’re off. Once I was marched off like that, too. But it was dark then. Look at ‘em, the way they stare straight ahead. Ashamed. Yes, sir, just go on jibing, you fellows! You know all about how it feels inside a person! They’re real stick-in-the-muds, they sit by their stoves, these crooks, but that sort’s never caught. Hard to catch up with the smart tricks of them lads. Now they’re opening the Black Maria. Well, hop right in, right in, me children, the li’l lady, too, she’s probably stewed, and she’s right I ain’t blamin’ her. All aboard, we’re off.

The people put their heads together. Franz Biberkopf stood in front of the street-door, it was bitter cold. He looked at the door from the outside, looked across the street, what am I goin’ to do now, what could he do? He stood first on one foot, then on the other. Damned cold, goddamned cold. I won’t go upstairs. What’ll I do now?

There he stood, moving back and forth-and did not realize he was so keenly alive. He had nothing to do with that jibing crowd. I’ll go look somewhere else. Can’t stand that bunch. And smartly he jogs off, down Elsasser Strasse, by the subway kiosk to the Rosenthaler Platz, just anywhere.

Thus it happened that Franz Biberkopf crept forth from his diggings. The man who had been made to run the gauntlet, the dumpy slightly tingled woman, the burglary, the Black Maria, all accompanying him. But when a saloon hove in sight, just before the corner of the Platz, things began to hum. His hands automatically went into his pockets, and no bottle to fill. Nothing. No bottle. Slipped his mind. Left it upstairs. On account of that nonsense. When the rumpus had started, into that overcoat was all he had thought, downstairs, forgetting the bottle. Damn it! Hoof it back? Then things started inside him. No, yes, yes, no. Such a lot of switching back and forth, swearing, giving in to it, shoving, well what is it, leave me alone, I want to go in there, such a thing hadn’t come over Franz for an eternity. Shall I go in, shall I not go in, am I thirsty, but then mineral water will do, if you go in, all you want to do is to swill, old boy, yes, sir, I am hellishly thirsty, immensely, enormously thirsty, God, wouldn’t 1 like to booze now, you better stay here, don’t go into that dump, otherwise you’ll soon be lying on your nose, and then you’ll get stuck up at the old landlady’s again. And then there came back the Black Maria and that carpenter couple and bang to. the right, nope, we won’t stay here, maybe somewhere else, farther on, keep moving, just keep moving.

Thus Franz, with 1. 55 marks in his pockets, kept on walking as far as the Alexanderplatz, gulping down nothing but air, and running. Then he took hold of himself, and, though he hated it, had a meal in a restaurant, a good meal, ate really for the first time in weeks, veal stew with potatoes. Afterwards his thirst grew less intense, 75 pfennigs left, he rubbed them between his fingers. Shall I go to see Lina, what’ll I do with Lina, don’t want her. His tongue grew dull and bitter, his throat burned. I’ll have to pour down another seltzer.

And then-just as he was gulping it down, swallowing the lovely cool water with the tickle of the soda-he knew where he wanted to go. To see Minna, he had sent her the cutlet, and she hadn’t accepted the aprons. Yes, that’s the thing.

Let’s get up. Franz Biberkopf tidied himself in front of the mirror. But the man who wasn’t at all edified, when he saw his pale sluggish pimply cheeks, was Biberkopf. What a mug that fellow has, welts on his forehead, wonder what the welts come from, from his cap, and that nose like a cucumber, boy, gee what a thick red smeller he’s got, but that doesn’t have to be on account of the booze, it’s cold today, only those ghastly old goggle-eyes like a cow’s, wonder where I got those calves’ eyes from, and that vacant stare, as if 1 couldn’t blink ‘em. As if somebody had poured glue over ‘em. But that doesn’t make any difference to Minna. I’d better brush my hair a bit. That’s that, he’ll go to see her. She’ll give me a few pfennigs till Thursday, and then we’ll see what we’ll see.

Out of the dump into the cold street! A lot of people. What a huge lot of people there are on the Alex, all busy! Seems they can’t do without it. Now that Franz Biberkopf was stepping out, he cast his eyes right and left. Just like an old nag that has slid on the wet pavement and gets a kick in the belly with a boot, that’s how Franz gets up, prances off and runs like mad. Franz had muscles, he was once a member of the athletic club; now he trotted through Alexanderstrasse and noticed the kind of steps he was taking, firm and solid, like a soldier of the Kaiser’s Guard. Here we go, right in step with the others.

Weather forecast at noon today: Weather prospects are somewhat more favorable. To be sure, there is still a strong cold spell prevailing, but the barometer is rising. The sun is shining again, although intermittently. We may expect a rise in temperature in the immediate future.

All those who own an NSU 6-cylinder car and drive it themselves are enthusiastic about it. ‘Tis there, ‘tis there, beloved, with thee, my heart longs to roam.

And when Franz reaches her house and stands before the door, there is a bell. He tears his hat off with a jerk, pulls the bell, and who opens the door, who do you think-here we curtsy, when a girl has a man, well, who do you think-tickle, tickle-bing: a man! Her man! It’s Karl. Karl, the locksmith. But it doesn’t matter. Just go on looking glum, old boy, I don’t care.

“So it’s you, is it? Whassa matter?” “Well, you can let me come in, Karl, I won’t bite anybody.” And he is already inside. So here we are. What a dumbbell, this is a nice thing to happen to a fellow.

“Dear Honored Herr Karl, even if you are a master locksmith and I’m only odd-job worker, you needn’t look so high and mighty. You might give me a howdy when I say howdy.” “Whatcha want, you? Did I let you in? Whatcha mean by pushing through that door?” “Well, then, is your wife in? Maybe I can say howdy to her.” “Nope, she’s not in. And cenainly not for you. Nobody’s in for you.” “Is that so?” “Yes, nobody.” “Well, you’re still in, Karl.” “Nope, I’m not in, either. I only came to get myself a sweater, I’ve got to go down in the store right away.” “Business going as grand as that?” “Yes, sir.” “That means you’re giving me the air, eh?” “Did I let you in? Say, what do you want here anyway? Ain’t you ashamed to come up here and compromise me where everybody in the house knows you?” “Let ‘em chatter, Karl. That ain’t nothin’ much to worry about. I wouldn’t like to take a look into their rooms, either. Y’know, Karl, you needn’t worry on account of those people. Why, today, they took one of ‘em away in my house, the coppers did, a skilled carpenter and superintendent of the house, he was. Imagine it. With his wife, too. And they pinched everything they could get hold of. Did I steal? Well, did I?” “Listen I’m going downstairs. Get out. What’s the use of me standing here with you? If Minna gets a look at you, watch out, she’ll take a broom and whack You one.” Little does he know about Minna. So that old husband with his goat horns is trying to put me wise! I have to laugh myself sick. When a girl’s got a man that she loves-ain’t it gran’! Karl steps towards Franz. “What do you keep standing there for? We’re no kin to you, Franz, none and more than none. And if you’re out of the jug now, you’ll have to look out for yourself, see?” “Did I ask anything from you?” “Nope, and Minna hasn’t forgotten her sister Ida yet, a sister is a sister and to us you’re the same man you were before. You’re done for with us.” “I didn’t kill Ida. That could happen to anybody, a slip of the hand when he’s mad.” “Ida’s dead, you’d better go on your way now, we’re respectable people.”

That dirty dog, with the horns on his head, a regular poison bag, I’d just as lief tell him all about it, I’ll just take his wife out of his bed alive. “I’ve done my four years to the minute, so you needn’t try to act any bigger than the law.” “I don’t care about your law. Now off with you. Once and for all. This house don’t exist for you any more. Once and for all.” Wonder what he’s after, his honor the locksmith, maybe he’s going to start something with me?

“I just wanted to tell you, Karl, I want to make my peace with you now that I’ve done my time. And I give you my hand on that.” “Then I won’t take it.” “That’s just what I wanted to know. (Quickly now, get hold of the fellow, grab him by the legs, fire him against the wall.) Now I know as good as if it was in writing.” He put his lid on with the same flourish as before: “Then good-bye, Karl, KarL the master locksmith, Esq. Give my best to Minna, tell her I was here, just called to see how’s tricks. And you, you dirty cur, you’re the lousiest bastard in the world. Write that behind your ears and take a good look at my fist if you want something, and don’t you come near me. I’m sorry Minna’s gotta put up with a hunk o’ tripe like you.”

Off. Quietly off. Slowly and quietly down the stairs. Let him follow me, bet he won’t do it. And opposite the house, he took just one brandy, a hot cordial. And maybe he’ll come after me, anyway. I’ll wait. And Franz went his way contentedly. I’ll get money somewhere else, don’t worry. And he felt how thick his muscles were, and I’ll get something in my belly again, never mind!

“You want to stop me on my way and throw me down. But I have a hand that can strangle you, and you are impotent against me. You crush me with your mockery, you want to pour contempt over me, no, not me, not me, I am very strong. I can ignore your sneer. Your teeth cannot penetrate my armor. against vipers I am charmed. I do not know who gave you the power to assail me. But I can resist you surely. The Lord has set mine enemies against me with their necks.

“Go on talking. How well birds can sing once they have escaped the polecat! There are many polecats, but just let the birds keep on singing. You are still without eyes for me. You do not yet need to look at me. You listen to the babbling of men, to the noise in the street, the roaring of the street-cars. Just take a breath! Just listen! In addition to all these sounds, you will listen to me some day.”

“To whom? Who is speaking?”

“I will not say. You shall see. You shall feel it. Gird up your heart, then I will speak to you. Then will you see me. Your eyes will give forth tears alone.”

“You can go on talking like that for a hundred years. I only laugh at it.”