Night Games: And Other Stories and Novellas (9 page)

"Thank you very much, Consul-until later."

The consul reached out his hand toward Willi from the carriage and
pulled him a little closer, as if he wanted to say something that he didn't
want anyone else to hear.

"I advise you, Lieutenant," he said in an almost fatherly tone,
"don't take this situation too lightly, if you place any value ... on remaining an officer. Tomorrow, Tuesday, at twelve o'clock." Then aloud,
"Well, until later, Lieutenant."

Willi smiled politely and raised his hand to his cap, and the carriage
turned around and drove off.

IX

The Alser Church clock struck a quarter to five. The big gate swung open
and a company of the 98th, eyes right, marched past Willi. Willi gratefully raised his hand to his cap several times.

"Where are you going, Wieseltier?" he offhandedly asked the last
cadet.

"Rifle practice, Lieutenant."

Willi nodded as though in approval and remained for a while watching the 98th pass by, though not really seeing them. The guard remained
saluting as Willi walked through the gate, which now closed behind him.

Sharp commands from the end of the courtyard assaulted his ear. A
troop of recruits was practicing weapon handling under the direction of a
corporal. The courtyard lay in the glare of the sun, bare except for a few
trees scattered here and there. Willi walked along the wall. He looked up
to his room when his orderly suddenly appeared at the window, looked
down, stood stock still for a moment, and then disappeared. Willi hurried
up the steps and began to remove his collar and his military cape as he
stepped into the parlor, where the orderly was just now lighting the fire.

"At your service, Lieutenant! Coffee will be ready soon!"

"Good," said Willi, and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him as he took off his coat and threw himself on his bed with his
trousers and shoes still on.

I can't possibly go to Uncle Robert before nine o'clock, he mused.
In any case, I'll ask him at once for twelve thousand-Bogner might as
well get his thousand too, if he hasn't already shot himself in the meantime. Anyway, who knows? Perhaps he won at the races after all and is
even in a position to rescue me! Ha! Eleven thousand, twelve thousandthat's not so easily won at the races!

His eyes closed. Nine of spades-ace of diamonds-king of
hearts-eight of spades-ace of spades jack of clubs-four of diamonds-the cards danced before him. The orderly brought the coffee,
moved the table closer to the bed, and poured; Willi propped himself up
on his arm and drank.

"Shall I pull off your boots, sir?"

Willi shook his head. "It's no longer worth the trouble."

"Shall I wake you up later, sir?"-and, as Willi looked at him
blankly-"At your service, Lieutenant! You were to report to the academy at seven."

Willi shook his head again. "I'm ill; I must go to the doctor. Report
me to the captain ... ill, you understand? I'll send a slip in later. I have
an appointment with an eye specialist, a professor, because of my eyes, at
nine. Please ask the cadet substitute Mr. Brill, to hold class for me. Gowait."

"Lieutenant?"

"At 7: 15 go over to Alser Church-the gentleman who was here
yesterday, First Lieutenant Bogner, will be waiting there. Beg him to excuse me-tell him that unfortunately I was unable to do anything. Do
you understand?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Repeat it."

"The lieutenant wishes to be excused-he was unable to do anything."

"Unfortunately was unable to do anything. Wait. If there were still a
little more time, until this evening or tomorrow morning"-he suddenly
paused. "No, nothing more! Tell him that I was unfortunately unable to
do anything, and that's all. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"And when you come back from Alser Church, be sure to knock.
And now, close the window."

The orderly did as he was instructed, abruptly breaking off a piercing command from the courtyard in the middle. When Joseph had closed
the door behind him, Willi lay down again, and his eyes fell shut. Ace of
diamonds-seven of clubs-king of hearts-eight of diamonds-nine of
spades-ten of spades-queen of hearts-damned Canaille! thought
Willi. For the queen of hearts was really Fraulein Kessner. If I hadn't
stopped at that table, this whole disaster wouldn't have happened. Nine
of clubs-six of spades-five of spades-king of spades-king of
hearts-king of clubs-"Don't take it lightly, Lieutenant!" The devil take him! He'll get his money, but then I'll send him two seconds!can't be done-he isn't even of a high enough rank to duel with! King of
hearts-knave of spades--queen of diamonds-nine of diamonds-ace
of spades-thus they danced by-ace of diamonds-ace of heartsmeaninglessly, incessantly, until his eyes burned underneath his eyelids.
There could not be as many packs of cards in the whole world as flew by
in his vision at this hour.

There was a knock, and he awoke with a jerk, the cards still racing
by his now open eyes. His orderly stood before him.

"Lieutenant, I beg to report that the First Lieutenant thanks you
very much for your trouble and sends his respects."

"So. And aside from that-he didn't say anything else?"

"No, Lieutenant, the First Lieutenant turned around and left immediately."

"So-he immediately turned around ... and did you report me ill?"

"Yes, sir."

And, as Willi saw that the orderly was smirking, he asked, "Why
are you grinning so stupidly?"

"Excuse me, sir-because of the captain."

"Why? What did the captain say?"

Still grinning, the orderly explained, "The captain said that if the
lieutenant has to go to an eye doctor-it's probably because he's ruined
his eyesight looking at some girl!"

And when Willi did not smile at that, the orderly added, somewhat
alarmed, "That's what the captain said, sir. At your service, sir."

"You may go," said Willi.

While he readied himself for his visit to his uncle, he contemplated
the phrases and practiced the tone of voice with which he hoped to move
his uncle's heart. It had been two years since he had seen him. At the moment he was barely able to picture Wilram at all, or even to remember his
features. Only streams of different Wilrams appeared before him, each
with a different face, different habits, and different ways of speaking, and
he couldn't predict which Wilram he would chance to meet today.

From childhood he remembered his uncle as a slim, always fastidiously dressed but still youthful man, though even then the man who was twenty-five years older had seemed to him to be rather old. Robert
Wilram's visits to the Hungarian town where his brother-in-law, at that
time still Major Kasda, was on garrison duty, had always been for only a
few days. Father and uncle did not get along particularly well, and Willi
even had a vague and disquieting memory of a quarrel between his parents about his uncle, which had ended with his mother leaving the room
crying. His uncle's profession had never been a topic of conversation, but
Willi thought he remembered that Robert Wilram had once held a civil
position of some sort, which he had given up when he was widowed at an
early age. He had inherited a modest fortune from his deceased wife, and
since then he had lived on his income, traveling a good deal about the
world. The news of his sister's death had reached him in Italy, and he had
not arrived until after the burial; but the image of his uncle standing at
the grave with him, dry eyed but with a desolate and earnest expression,
looking down into the still unfaded wreaths, had remained forever imprinted in Willi's memory. Soon afterward they had both left the small
town, Robert Wilram to return to Vienna and Willi back to his cadet
school in Vienna-Neustadt. Thereafter he would visit his uncle sometimes on Sundays and holidays, and was from time to time invited to accompany him to the theatre or to a restaurant. Later, after his father's
sudden death, after Willi had been assigned a position as lieutenant in a
Viennese regiment, his uncle on his own initiative had given him a
monthly allowance, which was paid to the young officer punctually at
regular intervals through a bank, even when Wilram was away on a trip.
On one of these trips, Wilram had fallen dangerously ill and had returned
a noticeably aged man. Even though the monthly allowance still arrived
regularly at Willi's address, the personal relationship between the uncle
and the nephew had then suffered many interruptions, just as Robert
Wilram's life itself seemed to change in peculiar ways. There were times
when he appeared to live a gay, sociable life and would, as in former
times, take his nephew to various restaurants and theatres and even to
nightclubs of somewhat questionable character, to which he would be accompanied by a lively young lady whom Willi would meet on these occasions for the first and indeed for the last time. Then there would be
weeks in which the uncle seemed to withdraw completely from the world and from everyone, and if Willi did succeed in being admitted to his
presence at such times, he found himself facing a serious, laconic, prematurely aged man, who, wrapped in a dark brown dressing gown that
resembled a monk's cassock, was either pacing up and down his dimly
lit, high-ceilinged room with the expression of a soured actor, or else was
sitting reading or working at his desk beneath an artificial light. At such
times the conversation would be strained and halting, as though the two
were total strangers. Only once, when the conversation had happened to
turn to a comrade of Willi's who had just committed suicide over an unhappy love affair, Robert Wilram had opened a desk drawer and, to
Willi's amazement, had taken out a number of handwritten pages and
read his nephew some philosophical observations about death and immortality and some unpleasant and melancholy remarks about women, in
the course of which he seemed completely to forget the presence of the
younger man, who was listening to all this not without embarrassment
and with more than a little boredom. Just as Willi had attempted to stifle
a little yawn without success, his uncle had happened to glance up from
the manuscript. His lips had curled into an empty smile; he had folded
his papers together, put them back into the drawer, and had spoken
abruptly of other matters that might lie closer to the interests of a young
officer. But even after this rather unfortunate meeting a number of lighthearted evenings in the old manner still followed, and there were also a
few small walks together, especially on fine holiday afternoons. One day,
however, when Willi was supposed to pick up his uncle at the latter's
home, he had received an abrupt cancellation and shortly thereafter a letter from Wilram saying that he was now so exceedingly busy that he had
to ask Willi to stop his visits for the time being. Soon thereafter the allowance also stopped. A polite written reminder was not answered, and a
second one met the same fate; the third received the reply that Robert
Wilram was very sorry to be forced, "because of a fundamental change in
his circumstances," to curtail any further financial assistance "even to
near relatives." Willi had tried to speak to his uncle in person. Twice he
was not received, and the third time he had seen his uncle, who had given
out that he was not at home, disappear quickly through a door. So he had
to admit to himself the uselessness of further effort, and nothing re mained for him but to make do. He had just exhausted the small inheritance from his mother on which he had lived until now, but, true to his
manner, he had not given serious thought to his future until suddenly,
from one day-indeed, from one hour-to the next, his difficulties assumed threatening proportions.

In a depressed but not totally hopeless mood, Willi finally walked
down the spiral staircase of the officer's quarters, and in the perpetual
half-darkness of the stairs he didn't immediately recognize the man who
was barring his way with outstretched arms.

"Willi!" It was Bogner who addressed him.

"It's you?" What could he want? "Don't you know? Didn't Joseph
tell you?"

"I know, I know, I just wanted to tell you-in any case-that the
audit has been postponed until tomorrow."

Willi shrugged his shoulders. It really didn't interest him very
much!

"Postponed, do you understand!"

"It isn't difficult to understand," he said and took another step
down.

Bogner would not let him pass. "But that's an omen!" he cried. "It
could mean that I'll be saved after all! Don't be angry, Kasda, that I once
more-I know that you didn't have any luck yesterday-"

"You can say that again!" Willi exploded. "I certainly didn't have
any luck!" And with a short laugh, he added, "I've lost everything-and
a little more." And now unable to control himself, as though Bogner were
the one and only cause of his misfortune, "Eleven thousand gulden, man!
Eleven thousand gulden!"

"Good God, well that is certainly ... what are you ..." He interrupted himself. Their eyes met, and Bogner's face suddenly lit up.
"You're going to have to go to your uncle after all!"

Willi bit his lips. The nerve! Shameless! he said to himself, and he
was not far from saying it out loud.

"Pardon me-it's none of my business, I know-I mean, I don't
want to interfere-all the more as I am, so to speak, partly
responsible ... oh well, but if you are going to try, Kasda-whether it's eleven thousand or twelve thousand can't make much difference to your
uncle."

"You're crazy, Bogner. I have as little chance of getting eleven
thousand as I would twelve thousand!"

"But you're going there anyway, Kasda!"

"I don't know ..."

"Willi-"

"I don't know," he repeated impatiently. "Maybe-but maybe
not.... Goodbye." He thrust him aside and dashed down the stairs.

Twelve or eleven-that wasn't at all the same! It could be that single thousand that would make the difference! And it buzzed in his head:
eleven, twelve-eleven, twelve-eleven, twelve! Well, he didn't have to
decide before he was actually in his uncle's presence. The moment would
decide. In any case, it was stupid of him to have mentioned the sum to
Bogner, to have even let himself be detained on the staircase. What concern of his was this man? They had been comrades, yes, but never really
friends! And now his fate was suddenly to be linked inextricably to
Bogner's? Nonsense. Eleven, twelve-eleven, twelve. Maybe twelve did
sound better than eleven; maybe it would bring him luck ... maybe a
miracle would occur-if he asked for exactly twelve. And on the entire
journey from the Alser barracks through the city to the ancient house in
the narrow street behind the Stefansdom he tried to decide whether he
should beg his uncle for eleven or for twelve thousand gulden-as
though success, and ultimately his life, depended on it.