North (38 page)

So tomorrow well go to Moorsburg, all settled . . . but where are we going now? . . . back to the carriage? . . . maybe she's going to show me some underground refuge . . . the way whats-isname had to show me what was left of the airfield . . . Inge didn't seem to be armed . . . which didn't tell me what was behind the trees or the next hummock . . . I'd seen worse in Grünwald . . . the underbrush is a setup . . . who fired? . . . you never find out! . . . actually nothing had happened . . . we're on our way back to the original coppice . . . to Lili and the countess . . . and Le Vig . . . they'd been waiting awhile, but they hadn't been bored . . . the countess had made them taste the
petits fours
. . . they'd carefully spat them out again . . . with her it was easy, she didn't look . . . Bébert had himself a mess of fish out of the lake . . . they'd listened to the old bag, same conversation with a few variations, the moving sidewalk, Bullier's dance hall, the banks of the Marne . . . oh, they'd listened politely and answered politely . . . but mighty glad to see me back! . . . what had we been doing out there in the woods? . . . nothing at all!
yah! yah!
. . . never say anything about anything to anybody . . . Time to drive on . . . giddyap horsie! all aboard, ladies and gentlemen! . . . we pile in . . . a grandiose avenue! as wide as the Champs-Elysées . . . bigger and bigger sequoias . . .

"All this belongs to you?"

Hell, I've got a right to ask . . .

"Oh yes! and it goes much farther!"

I can see they're really rich . . . my curiosity amuses her . . . I'll amuse her some more . . .

"Madame, let me tell you something . . . I got myself into this damnable fix, and not just myself but my wife and my friend too, with my boundless curiosity! . . . not through ambition or self-interest! . . . that's why you see us here, wanted by every conceivable police force, lamp post and wolf pack . . . for poking my nose into things that were none of my business! . . ."

Inge was no dope . . . I hadn't told her anything new . . .

"In that case, Doctor, indulge your curiosity! ask me anything you like! I'll tell you . . . don't be afraid . . . we never know how to please you . . . the least we can do is tell you what's none of your business!"

"Exacdy, Madame!. . . I admit it!"

"All right . . . first the sawmill . . . on the lakeshore . . . I'll show you . . . sixty workers . . . all convicts . . . three of them are murderers . . . rejected by the army . . . as unworthy . . . the
bibels
have the Bible! . . . these are real criminals, nothing like the 'objectors' . . . you'll see them . . . the lake belongs to us too . . . it's pretty big, twelve miles to Moorsburg . . . you'll see the little boats . . . the boats belong to my father-in-law . . . they're old, like him . . . well need new ones . . . we have another sawmill a little farther on . . . we won't go there today . . . will that do? . . . precise enough?"

"Yes, Madame . . ."

But wouldn't Countess Thor von Thérfels like to say something? . . . no! she's sulking . . . her daughter notices if . . .

"But Mother, you've got much bigger lakes!"

"I should think so!"

"And ten times more woods!"

"Definitely, Inge! Definitely!"

No more . . . the charabanc stops, here we are! I'd thought we'd never make it . . . I know the forests of the tropics, everybody knows them now, everybody travels, you can't get à rise out of anybody . . . time was when a pith helmet turned the trick . . . Brazza couldn't hold a candle to you! . . . nowadays the falls of the Congo are good for a weekend at the most . . . in those days you felt you were imprisoned forever in the damp shade, a welter of lianas, roots, and snake ponds . . . up there it was different, the shade was dry . . . and yellow . . . that carpet of needles . . . all in all, this forest was too beautiful, too sumptuous . . . same with the lake, too limpid, too blue . . . it's all so poetic, symphonic, profound, so horribly German . . . that you'll never get away from it either! . . . I'm not saying you'll ever go there! . . . either to the Congo or Prussia! . . . the advantage of this great carpet of sequoia needles was that it absorbed the sound, you couldn't hear the bacchanalia of bombs on Berlin . . . the surface of the lake shuddered a bit . . . the banks . . . the rushes vibrated . . . vibrated . . .

"Doctor, all this belongs to us . . . those loggers too! . . . you see them?"

I saw them all right! . . . those convicts weren't sawing . . . they were pushing enormous tree trunks, rolling them down to the water . . . others down below were tying the trunks together . . . I got it . . . as a kid I was crazy about lumber rafts . . . I watched them from the locks at Ablon as far as the Pont-au-Change . . . the watermen were always within an inch of going overboard . . . strength and judgment . . . it seems they came from Morvan . . . where were (hey going? I never found out . . . these characters didn't look much like watermen . . . I've hung around the sand quarries, I know the work . . . Inge sees what I'm thinking . . .

"You think they'll get there?"

"Where?"

"Moorsburg! . . ."

"They may . . . not so sure . . ."

"There'll be others . . ."

That makes them both laugh . . . the daughter and the mother . . . who'd been sulking . . . my sharp answer! . . . but what about the
Revizor?
and the beadle? . . . and the pastor? this might be the time to find out! . . . Inge asks one of the convicts . . . graying hair . . . no . . . he doesn't know . . . they haven't seen a thing . . . you can't get anything out of these people . . . we don't tell them "good-bye" or "good luck" . . . myself later on in jail, I only wanted one thing: to be left alone . . . I could understand that feeling . . . Leon Bloy on his deathbed demanded the Holy Ghost or the Cossacks! . . . I know a damn sight more about it than he did . . . and I demand "the superbomb and the Chinese!" I'm joking . . . no joking on that forest road . . . we joggled and jolted from hole to hole for another hour or two . . . all four axles squeaked something awful . . . oils and fats were the nightmare of that war . . . axles, pistons, bearings! . . . burned out, cracked, melted! . . . in the air, under the sea . . . this carriage of ours, the springs and axles were fed up . . . they were bellowing . . . well, sort of a soft bellow . . .

After a while the trees aren't so tall . . . no more sequoias, pines . . . suddenly, I hadn't been expecting it, Inge orders:
Halt!
. . . the driver stops . . . "come with me!" . . . she's got something to tell me . . . "just you!"

"I want to show you our châlet!"

What's the sense in that?

"You'll see! come with me! . . . you, stay there! . . . Madame and Monsieur Le Vigan!"

Another caper! . . . I get out of the carriage . . . she leads me down a path! .. .another path! . . . she's got a thing about paths!. . .. this one leads between pine trees . . . what's this going to be? . . . say, not badl. . . a large cottage, all of wood, spic-and-span, scrubbed and polished, cleaner than their farm . . . she goes ahead . . .

"Come along!"

We go in . . . really luxurious, much better than the farm . . . wall-to-wall carpeting, leather cushions, enormous divans, and enormous shelves fall of bottles! . . .

"Raus!
get out!"

A brutal command! . . . to somebody . . . who . . . I don't see a soul . . . but I hear somebody making tracks . . . servants in the other room?

"I don't want to see them! . . . they'll come back when I've gone! they always come back!"

Polish women, I think . . . now she turns to me . . .

"Doctors! Doctor! forgive me! will you ask Mathias . . ."

"Mathias?"

I've forgotten . . .

"You know, in Moorsburg . . . the druggist . . . remember?"

"Oh yes! oh yes! whatever you say, Madame! the
Apotheke!"

Still another drug?

"I'd forgotten! . . . those little paper napkins . . . for ladies . . . you know . . . menstrual . . ."

"Oh yes, Madame!"

"Here we call them
'Kamelia'
with a k . . . you've got the same thing in France, but with a
c
. . . three packages, if he has them . . . if he says he hasn't, you say: 'Oh yes, you do!' He's got them . . . he's saving them for someone else . . . and my lipstick . . . and my powder . . . he knows what kind . . . and if he says no . . . really no . . . tell him I'll send Kracht . . . he'll hand them over! . . . got it straight? Mathias Hase . . . right by the statue . . ."

"Certainly, Madame, first thing tomorrow!"

"Then let's get back to the carriage . . . don't you want to kiss me?"

"Yes, of course, Madame!"

I kiss her . . . she kisses me . . . and put we go . . . good friends . . . we haven't been long . . . they haven't stirred from the carriage . . . they haven't done anything and haven't seen anything . . . I ask them . . . neither the
Revizor
nor Hjalmar nor the pastor . . . Lili has seen an animal over there . . . close to the edge of the pine woods . . . she points . . . yes! . . . she's right . . . we all look . . . a fox, looking back at us . . . getting along on three legs, as best he can . . . escaped from a trap . . . Inge explains . . . traps all over because hunting's prohibited . . . without traps there wouldn't be a single duck, goose, or chicken left. . . devastation! . . . not just here, all over Germany . . .

"Now you know . . ."

"Certainly, Madame!"

The fox makes for the woods . . . we watch him limping away . . . we're going in the other direction . . . the road isn't so bumpy now . . . the wheels aren't making so much noise . . . here she goes! as soon as the axles pipe down, Countess Thor starts up . . . I'm expecting the Elysée! . . . no, not at all! . . . this time it's Brandenburg . . . but not of today, of long ago when she was young . . . the customs, the marriages of the noble families . . . this one and that one, his rank and functions . . . and the scene, the garrisons, the artillery of the Guard, the school of gunnery, the firing range . . . the countess knew Brandenburg like a book, not just her native Pomerania! . . . I listened . . . I listened . . . but not very closely . . . she was on my left side, I couldn't hear very well . . . I was dunking about Moorsburg . . . the
Apotheke
by the statue . . . should I go? . . . or not? . . . Mathias Hase? . . . better think it over . . . what with joggling and jolting we finally got there . . . the park . . . the
bibelforschers'
isba . . . our peristyle Kracht can't be far off, herehe is! . . .
"bonjour!
heil!
pleasant ride?". . . mostly very glad to be back . . . it could have ended worse . . . twenty years later I still think so, it could have ended worse . . . I didn't say anything . . . I thought about it all night . . . but I didn't say anything . . . either to Lili . . . or Le Vig . . .

We weren't very keen on that trek to Moorsburg, four miles on foot . . . but as long as I'd promised . . . I'd go see this
Apotheke!
. . . the drugs? well, certainly not the first time . . . curare . . . cyanide . . . Dolosal . . . we'd see about that later . . . but the lipstick, powder, and
"Kamelia" 
. . . okay . . . I'd get them right away . . . before I asked for anything else I'd better get acquainted with this Mathias Hase . . . right by the statue . . . getting to Moorsburg was simple, straight across the plain, you couldn't go wrong! . . . follow the milestones . . . anyway we'd see it in the distance, we knew what it looked like . . . better start early, about five, nobody to see us off . . . Iago lets Le Vig by . . . we meet in the peristyle and off we go! one . . .two! one . . . two! . . . slowly . . . especially me with my limp . . . very quiet all around . . . the gypsy wagon . . . the isbas . . . nothing stirring . . . not even the geese! . . . we're doing all right . . . slow but sure . . . Bébert curled up in his bag, he's used to it . . . cats don't think much of the crazy things we do, but when they know it can't be helped they lie still, they roll up . . . Coming on . . . one two! . . . one two! . . . daybreak . . . the sky's black already . . . black and yellow . . . even before dawn! . . . smut . . . Christ, is he tedious, you'll say! . . . he can't stop! . . . those squadrons in the air couldn't stop either, dropping their horrors on horrible Berlin! . . . their stinking hardware! . . . not only Fortresses . . . Mosquitos . . . Marauders . . . all kinds!

If he didn't have his three dots . . . what he calls his style, take it away! he'd be read a little more! . . . since Journey he's been unreadable! . . .
Journey
. . . well, in a pinch! but now he's so befuddled . . . and looks it . . . he's not even presentable on television . . . Monsieur Petzareff has just canceled an 'interview' with him . . . that proves it! . . . in the nick of time!. . . it would have been a disaster!. . . France lost again! . . . Juanovici is in jail, but Petzareff has his eye peeled, he doesn't miss a move of„the anti-everythings! . . . and he never even graduated from school! the 'Honors and Profits' battalion . . ."

Charming words, I grant you . . . still quite a way to go . . . a few people . . . out there . . . all those yellow and gray fields stretching out to the Urals . . . a few people . . . not too far away . . . no use asking them what they're doing . . . they're working . . . on some kind of buildings, I think . . . bricks and tiles . . . I'd better watch my step . . . no good losing you on the road to Moorsburg . . . All of a sudden two men jump out of a ditch on one side . . . two men about as ragged as we are . . . sacking, rags, and strings . . . they talk to us in French . . .

"Where you going?"

"Moorsburg!"

"Oh, you're the 'collabos'?"

I see the news has got around . . . and pretty far from the manor . . . 

"We're prisoners!"

An important distinction! I ask them how they're doing . . . oh, not so bad . . . their boss is a farmer . . . sheep and poultry . . . he's gone off to the Eastern Front . . . they run the farm . . . the farmer's wife sleeps the whole time . . . there's nothing to do on the farm . . . practically all the animals are dead . . . two epizootic epidemics in a row . . .

There'd be nothing to eat if wie didn't . . ."

They loot for themselves and the farmer's wife . . .

"We've got everything we need . . . but we better not get caught!"

No doubt about that!

"If they catch us,
ping! 
. . . you'll be shot too, but not for the same reasons!"

It's too funny! . . . we're in stitches!

"Going to eat at the
Landrat'
s?"

"No, we haven't been invited!"

"You know him?"

"A little . . ."

"Well, give him our best wishes!"

Okay . . . we start off again . . . only a few steps when somebody shouts
halt! halt!
somebody in the ditch . . . on the other side of the road . . . a German cop . . . he motions us to come over . . .
papier!
. . . here . . . I show him my
Erlaubnis
. . .
gut! . . . gut!
he sees we're not tramps . . . he asks me where we're going, the three of us so early in the morning . . . very friendly . . . to see the druggist Mathias Hase!
gut! . . . gut!
. . . perfectly natural . . . while we're at it, I ask him if he hasn't seen the pastor . . . or the beadle . . . or the
Revizor?
no! but he's been looking for them too . . . if we hear anything, would we please let him know . . . a message at the pdst office . . . in his name . . . Gendarme Hans . . . sure thing! . . . he can count on us! . . . we're pals . . . time to shove off . . . how many miles? . . . two more . . . we can't claim to be going very fast, but well get there . . . there's Moorsburg up ahead . . . the church . . . we sit down in die grass . . . Bébert's business . . . he knows it's, no time for monkeyshines, that he's got to behave . . . he comes right back and gets into his bag . . . off again . . . the first houses . . . it's not eight yet . . . the people are up . . . they watch us pass . . . I wouldn't say hostile, just surprised . . . ah, I remember the place now . . . this one-horse town with five six Place Vendômes . . . at least as big! . . . where Frederick drilled his troopers . . . the
Apotheke?
. . . let's see . . . it's not this square . . . no statue of Fontane . . . ah, here we are! . . . this is the one! . . . and the druggist . . . the name we're looking for: Mathias Hase . . . fine! . . . I walk in . . . the kids have spotted us already . . . they collect on the sidewalk across the street . . . it's going to be like Berlin . . . the
Hitlerjugend
in the subway . . . here's the druggist . . . he apologizes, he doesn't speak French . . . white smock, little goatee . . . very polite . . . I introduce Lili, Le Vig, and Bébert . . . he offers us a little pick-me-up . . . who does ha take us for? . . . "no, thank you!" . . . not even a glass of water! . . . he asks us if everything's all right in Zornhof ? . . . if we're pleased with the von Leidens . . .

"Delighted, my dear
Apotheke!
perfect hosts!"

But the villagers . . . don't we find them rather crude?

"Oh, certainly not! charming! and so refined! so touchingly attentive!"

I can see this Mathias is fishing . . . he thinks he'll get a gripe out of me . . . he can keep on trying . . .

I look him over . . . about my age, no youngster . . . we've made enough conversation, I'll show him my "permit" . . . no! . . . no! he takes offense! he knows all about it! . . . he's been expecting us! . . . he's got a tic . . . after every sentence a twitching . . . painful like . . . at the corners of his mouth:
mgü! mgü!
. . . and then right away a smile . . .

"Can I help you, Doctor? . . . whatever you wish . . . just ask for it!"

Hell, I won't ask him for anything at all! . . . oh yes! lipstick, face powder, and three packages of
"Kamelia"
. . .

"For Countess von Leiden?" 

"Of course!"

"Nothingelse, Doctor?"

"Danke! . . . danke!
. . . thank you!"

Obliging little goatee, no dice! . . . absolutely nothing else! . . .
Kamelia
, lipstick, face powder . . .

"Monsieur l'Apotheke,
well be back, a little stroll around town, but now tell me . . ."

I ask him what I owe him . . .

"Later! . . . later, as long as you're coming back! Plenty of time! . . . visit our city! . . . you can't get lost, all the streets lead back here . . . to the statue! . . . you've heard about it! . . . the statue of Fontane! . . . Fontane, you know the name? . . . it's French and German! . . . Huguenot! . . . you know his story?"

I see he wants to tell it . . . in these situations it's best to sit down and not look bored . . . to tell the truth, I was born so curious I'd climb the Eiffel Tower with my two canes to find out some bit of foolishness . . . he knows plenty about Fontane, the von Leidens' favorite writer . . . it was worth the delay, anyway maybe our food cards had expired . . . and us so short on
lebewurst!
. . . or maybe they were for some other month . . . at certain times anything you do will get you into trouble . . . it's better to sit tight . . . so why not Fontane? . . . he came from right around here, one of these houses . . . we should read
Wanderings in Brandenburg
, his masterpiece . . . okay! Hase knew his life, every detail . . . quite a character! . . . this Fontane was in France during the war of 1870 . . . crazy idea! . . . and better still! . . . the "Fifis" of Domrémy had caught him visiting the house of Jeanne d'Arc! . . . the "Resistance" of the day . . . a tourist during the "Terrible Year"! . . . and that wasn't the end of it! . . . they accused him of being a traitor and a renegade, damn near shot him . . . but Providence knows its business, he was pardoned by Gambetta in person and set free . . . he came back here to end his days, madder than a hornet . . . up there on his pedestal in a frock coat he didn't show it . . . but thanks to Hase we know . . .

Thank you, Monsieur
l'Apptheke!
now we're going to see if they'll honor our coupons! you know. . .
leberwurst!
. . . we'll be back in a moment . . ."

And we leave him . . . two streets . . . a big square . . . Le Vig asks me . . ."do you think he recognized me?" . . . "No! no!" ah, there's a delicatessen . . . the storekeeper studies our coupons very solemnly . . .
"franzosen? franzosen?"
. . . he knows! . . . he doesn't want our coupons! . . . but glad to wait on us! . . . sausage? . . . salami? . . . 
leberwurst?
. . . we take it while the taking's good! . . . he doesn't want our marks! . . . certainly not! . . . everything for free? . . . fine! . . . you can't make us mad . . .

"Do you think this one recognized me?"

"Oh yes! I'm sure!"

Le Vig smiles . . . a low bow! . . . from the stage! . . . to the whole shop! . . . the storekeeper, his wife, his assistants! . . . they look at him, to see if he means them . . . yes! . . . well? he waits . . . bent double . . . his hat touching the floor . . . they applaud . . . he leaves the shop bowing some more . . . touched! flattered! . . . we do the same . . . fulsome farewells . . . but we didn't forget our package of sausage . . . on the sidewalk we straightened out . . . quick to the bakery . . . the baker doesn't want our coupons either. . . out of the question! . . . but what do we desire? . . . three big loaves of black bread . . .
"gut! gut!"
. . . or our marks! . . . he doesn't answer our
"guten tag!"
we've got what we wanted, we should blow! . . . perfect! easy habit to fall into . . . but that's not the end of it . . . the brats who'd been following us from a distance are closing in . . . more and more of them and a troop of women too, at least a hundred, all bellowing . . . every name in the book . . . scum! scavengers!
fallschirmfäger!
. . . parachutists!

Compliments!

These raging harpies have brooms, shovels, and pitchforks . . . what can they be doing? . . . mending the roads? . . . the sewers? . . . Kracht had told me not to answer them . . . or the kids either . . . all very well but we had to get by, and they had the whole sidewalk . . .
"Hitlerjugend" 
they must be, these brats . . . boys and girls . . . they'd never let us go, they had what they wanted, what they'd been after for months! . . . three! . . . three parachuted saboteurs! tight fix, same as in the Berlin subway . . . we'd have been lynched if it hadn't been for Picpus! . . . here there was no Picpus in sight! . . . one of these Place Vendômes . . . horrible brats! howling! aggressive! louder and worse! . . . "better hole up!" I say . . . there's a café right here,
wirtschaft
. . . let's go in! . . . I had to go bad . . . hell, we'd hardly touched the door handle . . . the kids are on top of us!

"Fallschirmjäger!
parachutists!"

It's our duffel coats! same as in Berlin, the trio of venomous saboteurs wanted by a dozen police forces! . . . in Berlin, if it hadn't been for Picpus, we'd have been cooked! chucked under the train! wonder where Picpus is now! . . . he'd, recognized Le Vig! . . . none of these snot-noses was likely to recognize the great actor! . . . Christ, they've latched on to us! . . . they're taking us along with them . . . ten . . . twenty of them! boys and girls all stepping on us . . . where to? I yelled that we lived in Zornhof! with the von Leidens! no soap! where were they taking us? . . . to the police? . . .

There on the next big square an SS-man! no mistake! it's Kracht! "hey! hey!" . . . all three of us shout! he's coming! here he is! . . . we're, half drowned, smothered under the
Hitlerjugend
. . . it hands him a laugh . . . he's wearing his SS uniform, boots and all! short shrift! . . .
weg!
. . . that does it . . . they let us go, they split! . . . all gone! . . . we straighten out our duffel coats . . . I suggest going to the café . . . right next door . . . but with him! oh, not without himl he's willing . . . we sit down and order . . . ersatz coffee . . . I ask him who these women are . . . the female road workers that called us such names . . . it seems they're Berlin prostitutes under treatment in Moorsburg, the ones that were too contagious and refused to be treated in Berlin . . . here, of course, they get their treatment, but they've got to work too . . . help at least . . . naturally they cut up . . . they insult everybody that comes along, we're not the only ones . . . pretty soon it won't be possible to keep them in town, even in the sewers . . . not enough cops! . . . they've already smashed up three stores! . . . inside and out! the whole place! . . . there's talk about sending them to the beet fields where there's nothing to smash . . . He asks me if we've seen the
Revizor
. . . or the beadle . . . no! . . . we've asked all over . . . nothing! . . . and what do I think of the
Apotheke?
Hase?