Panorama (53 page)

In addition to the intellectuals in Wirschenowitz there are also rougher characters, many of them quite splendid in their own right, bowing to a kind of optimism that unfortunately knows no half measures, it involving much more an urge for dignity that will not give in, and that is fine, as long as one doesn’t become unthinking and suffer from illusions, for the war will certainly not be over soon, as all the laborers and many inhabitants believe here, Germany having invaded too many countries for there to be a quick end, which for the laborer will most certainly lead to dire consequences, though hardly any of them are aware of this. Notwithstanding his skepticism,
Josef doesn’t believe that Germany can win, because “The more enemies the greater the honor” may sound good, but not when it involves too many enemies, for the entire world cannot be conquered, not even with modern weapons, though how things will unfold is unclear to Josef, but he knows eventually this monstrosity will collapse. Josef, therefore, is not that different from the optimists, these children only hoping for the next day to pass, believing in miracles as they conjure their possibility inside themselves. But it will take more patience than that.

Josef takes a breath, feeling more free here than in the city, everything easier in Wirschenowitz, no matter how hard it may indeed be, but in the city it’s murky, every step contains potential danger, fear, and mistrust, people afraid of their neighbors and their neighbors afraid of them, while men in strange uniforms stomp heavily through the streets and bellow repulsive songs, Josef trembling when this wretched singing marches around the corner and pierces the walls like a machine, some fleeing ahead of them, while in addition to this bellowing there is the Pied Piper music of the pipes and drums, Prussian soldiers arriving to fight in the fields of Silesia in Bohemia, this clanging and strife mixing hideously with the noise in the streets, while even from a distance one hears the painful warbling of unmelodic tunes from the fifes and the dry rustle of drums. Across from the building where Josef had last lived in the city is the shop and apartment of a short tailor by the name of Jaroslav Kverka, whose four-year-old boy marched along the street in military step, mimicking with his innocent child’s voice that awful music, though the child’s bawling was continually droned out by the loudspeaker whipping the march into a frenzy with beastly distorted sounds, in between which could be heard the buffeting of crackling announcements telling those aghast at hearing it of the victory of indomitable weapons over a subjugated people, the thumping little phrases hardly comprehensible, Josef at least unable to understand them as meaningful examples of human speech.

Wirschenowitz is free of such pain. Though indeed things here are tough, and though Čiperný is mean and the work hard, the chaos of the city is distant, as well as the innumerable pressing prohibitions that transform every act and allowance into a conscious undertaking. Here each breath is not stripped of its freedom, dense woods rise nearby and are enticing, Josef
wanting to flee to them on Sundays, where he will worship each moment and let himself get lost where no path leads, and where for hours there is not a human sound, the power of the Creator all around him. These are imaginings that Josef still conjures as he lays out his blankets for the night, after which he tells his roommates good night and promises not to let them oversleep, he able to make himself get up at whatever hour he wants to. And then the first morning light breaks across Wirschenowitz, everything beginning to stir, the brown water prepared that is supposed to be coffee, bitter stuff that is never quite warm. Afterward the new arrivals begin to gather, the two young men from the employment office offering up to each a somewhat dumb little talk that doesn’t say anything that Otto hasn’t told them in much more clever and sympathetic fashion. At the close of their lecture they accompany the new arrivals to the builders’ hut in order to hand them over to the bookkeeper, after which the procedure takes some time, which the new arrivals are overjoyed at, because it means that their actual work will begin much later. Gradually things get under way, Herr Podlaha and his secretary asking each laborer patronizing questions, as if they concerned matters of the alphabet, though what they want to know is the boys’ natural talents and special expertise, at which each must be satisfied to learn that there really is not that much interesting work available. Salesmen, clerks, tailors, musicians, lawyers, teachers, and students would seem ready for quite capable work, but luckily you don’t need special training to build a railroad, as every man can be taught how to handle a pick and a shovel correctly. At last the long questionnaire is filled out, behind the counter eyes read through it all again, after which hands shove it once more across the counter so that it is signed, no, on the right line, even if you cannot see it, aren’t you supposed to be an educated man, a doctor, indeed here in the little box, but legibly please. Josef writes his name somewhat obscurely, at which the bookkeeper hands the new arrival a little card with his name and birth date, and Rybák written in the corner, Josef looking questioningly at Herr Podlaha once he has it in his hand, whereby the former explains that there’s no need to keep looking at it, for it says Rybák, and that means the workstation that he is supposed to report to.

Many new arrivals have gone off in the meantime, an older worker or guard standing by to help anyone who has a question, Josef going up to one
and learning, “Rybák? For that you take a right outside and head straight on, the people on the road will show you where to go.” So Josef heads along the new stretch that passes by the builders’ hut to cross over the highway. Here there is work going on at the moment, the building having moved on, the earth stamped down firmly, the rails of a light railway traveling over it, it being easy to walk along, mountains rising to the right, while to the left the landscape descends steeply to the river. Soon you reach the forest, with only the passageway for the train roughly cut through it as Josef nears an odd-looking wooden structure and hears a low rumbling in the distance, more heaps of gravel resting here in various heights, a couple of men walking around or standing, a couple of laborers nearby, one of whom speaks to Josef and asks him what he wants, to which Josef says that he’s new and is looking for the way to Rybák. “My friend, how unlucky! It’s bad at Rybák’s. If you just keep along this stretch, the first master you come to will be him. At least you don’t have far to get back home.” Josef, though, wants to know what is the structure from which all the noise is coming, and he’s told that it’s a gravel mill, there being only a few who work there, though the work isn’t bad, especially when it’s outdoors, for inside it’s pretty dusty, but at least when it rains you can keep dry.

Josef then walks on farther and after a while reaches a deep cliff cut, everything looking smooth and almost done, just a few men working here and there, as Josef asks for Master Rybák. Yes, he’s here, he’s told, the question being whether the new arrival is supposed to work for him. Yes, he’s supposed to work here, could they please point out the master. Josef is told to just go on straight ahead, he’ll find the master either out back in his shack or somewhere along that stretch. Indeed, Rybák is in his shack and comes straight out as Josef greets him, which the master does not respond to in any kind of unfriendly manner but instead takes the card and looks at his new worker, after which Rybák gives Josef back the card and says that it seems that Josef has hardly ever worked in building. No, he had not. To this the overseer responds that it doesn’t matter, for as long as his intentions are good it will work out, he having received five new arrivals of late, no doubt more will come, these being the gentlemen sent to build the railroad, hardly any of them having worked before as an unskilled laborer, though if they are willing and able, then none of them will have any trouble with Rybák, each
only needing, of course, to do his work, no question about that, though at this site he needs no more new people, for everything will be done in four weeks, in fact just today they are starting a new section way at the end of the cliff cut, which is a good place to start in with easier work, Foreman Sláma ready to show them what to do, meaning that Josef should go to Sláma with his card, for he’ll find him if he just continues along straight ahead.

Josef walks on again, the path getting tougher as he approaches a section where the work has not progressed very far, to the right the landscape falling off much more steeply than before, though the rush of the creek cannot be heard because it is drowned out by the thunderous noise that disturbs the peace of the wounded forest landscape, the cliffs shattered by jackhammers, the workers sweating and straining, having to pause again and again as the ringing and pounding steel hammer shakes them from head to toe. Josef is told by one of the many workers that Master Chudoba is in charge here. The route is uneven, it moves slowly forward, a light train moving toward Josef with full cars, a dumping site nearby where the rubble and earth are emptied out, after which it climbs to a position where most of Chudoba’s workers are located, as they work at loosening stones with pickaxes, other men standing nearby who then shovel the rubble into the train cars. Josef goes on ahead, the forest stretching out from the rail bed, to the left fields and meadows opening up, to the right the glittering creek, while farther on is the village called Najdek, the rails of the light train suddenly coming to an end, the rail bed ending as well, which must be the end of the cliff cut, the terrain also sinking farther, though Rybák had indeed said that where Josef should head to is a new segment, which must mean the dump below, where there also appear to be workers who are working on a ditch that bores through deeply cut terrain that would be best bridged over, the workers perhaps preparing the first pylons. Josef heads down to them, though there is no path, just noticeable footsteps in the soil, it taking some effort to reach the ditch, which is traversed by two loose planks, someone telling him that the building of the bridge is led by Master Vodil, Josef told that wood is being gathered here when he asks what all the supplies are for, though he doesn’t need to be told what the powerful concrete mixer is for, yet no one tells him what is really going on, and so he simply asks where he can find Herr Sláma, someone instructing him to follow the path
down the incline as if he were heading to Najdek, but before he reaches it he must turn left and climb up the embankment that has no path, and there he’ll find Sláma.

Josef walks on in the direction he was told and soon reaches the embankment, someone asking from above where he is heading and whether he is looking for Sláma. Yes, he’s looking for Herr Sláma. That’s good, says the voice, he should head up, for it’s Sláma himself. Josef quickly climbs up to the spot where some have already gathered, having sat themselves down comfortably as if they were there to enjoy the view, it being quite beautiful from here, the edge of the village of Najdek lying to the left, a village much smaller than Wirschenowitz, the little village stretching out toward the creek, a hill rising directly from the other shore, while to the right the vale that will soon be bridged descends, with the hill behind and from which Josef just came, though he has no time to look around any further, for he has to greet Herr Sláma, who is already waiting, as Josef hands him the card, at which the foreman formally introduces himself as Florian Sláma, the name Florian resulting from his having been born at night, there having been a fire in Pechno and the mother thinking that one shouldn’t spend too much time thinking about a name, the fire a sign of which patron saint to select for the child. Josef is surprised by Sláma’s talk, and indeed the foreman quickly throws a glance at his worker’s card and says that Josef is a common name in his family, his father was called Josef, which is why his oldest son is also named that, after which he says that Josef will enjoy working for him, Sláma thinking that for people like Josef things will get better with time, one can see that he is a studious man, perhaps a professor or a teacher, it not only being a shame but also an accursed waste of talent to send a doctor to work on a railroad. At this Josef says that he doesn’t really think it’s all that bad. Sláma insists that it’s a shame, even a sin, that it can come to no good, each man needing to be allowed to work according to what God and his talent have readied him for. Josef doesn’t press the matter, he doesn’t want to insist on anything, though Sláma doesn’t back off and bemoans the fact that a doctor should be put to work digging here, after which he asks him what kind of doctor he is, for Frau Sláma is not well, she has often gone to the doctor in Sobolec, though he can do nothing for her, she has such back pain, the doctor saying that it’s rheumatism, as he writes a prescription, yet the
salve doesn’t help, but maybe it will be better if Josef could have a look at her. Josef explains that he’s not a medical doctor, even if he is a doctor. For Sláma a doctor is a doctor, an educated man understands health, and he has been awarded the title of doctor, at which Sláma says again what a shame it is how people are treated these days, just because they are Jews or doctors, things had been fine before, everyone living in peace, each having enough to eat and drink, even being able to save a bit, but now that’s all over with, since
he
has taken over the country, Sláma not saying his name, though
he
has done nothing for Bohemia, the people have nothing,
he
gives the people no bread, but instead takes their bread away, injustice never leads to good, for now
he’s
at war with the entire world, though
he
won’t manage to get England, and then there’s Russia, we’ll see, Sláma being a simple man who doesn’t understand as much about politics as the mighty masters, though he doesn’t believe a word of what is written in the newspapers, for certainly
he
will never be able to handle the Americans.

Sláma interrupts his lecture, because on the path below he sees another new arrival, whom he calls to just as he did to Josef, asking just as quickly what he wants. Then Sláma says that they have to get to work soon, though there’s still time, he’s waiting until the entire party is gathered together, so Josef should sit down with the others. And so Josef sits down on the grass and observes Florian Sláma as he speaks with the broad accent of these parts and stands with his feet spread wide, it being funny how the little man is nonetheless wrapped in the great warmth of a much too large, thick dark suit, as if he were dressed for an important event, his hair still dark, though the goatee is silver-gray, the combination of his somewhat dour frown and roguish, twinkling eyes hard to reconcile, he seeming quite friendly one minute and quite different the next, as he continues to smoke a stubby pipe and spits often as he does. There is hardly a word spoken by Josef’s colleagues on the grass, and he himself is quiet, soon stretching out comfortably and closing his eyes, the sun warming him pleasantly, he almost feeling as if he’s on a comfy summer trip, Sláma now quiet as well, the wind blowing lightly, everything peaceful, himself ready for a good long sleep.