The Karnau Tapes (25 page)

Mama comes back. She says it's time we went to sleep, but Herr Karnau hasn't finished telling us his news. Heide begs him to come back in the morning.

Or is he only paying us a quick visit? Must he leave right away? A shame, when we don't have any other friends here. He's still sitting on the edge of my bunk, he doesn't get up and go, not yet. If he does go, we may never see him again. 'No,' he says, 'don't worry, I'm sure my work will keep me here for several days.'

'So we'll see you again tomorrow?'

He laughs. 'If you don't have any other plans. At lunch, maybe?'

'Yes, and in the afternoon we can do something together. We can — '

Hilde breaks in. 'Herr Karnau will be busy, Hedda.'

'Do you leave the Bunker after work?'

Herr Karnau doesn't answer at once. He looks at us in a sad kind of way, then he smiles. 'As long as you're here,' he says quietly, 'wild horses won't drag me away.'

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

He shakes my hand. His own hands are still rather dirty, even though he's scrubbed them, and the creases in his fingers are all black. He strokes Heide's cheek, tells us he's got things to do, says good-night, and goes out. Our clean bedclothes are covered with Coco's little paw marks. Heide is so delighted that Herr Karnau is staying here too, she forgets all about her rag doll.

*

In the morning Heide wakes up cuddling her pillow tight. The first thing she says is, 'This isn't my best doll.'

Then she bursts into tears and wakes the others. She goes on sobbing and whining and wailing for her doll, in fact she even keeps it up at breakfast. Mama tries to console her, but it's no use. Mama isn't in a good mood either, because of Coco's paw marks. We don't have any spare bedclothes here, that's the trouble. Mama is thinking hard during breakfast, I can tell. Eventually she says, 'There's nothing for it, we'll have to fetch some more things from the house. You children need toothbrushes and night clothes, after all.'

'Will you bring my doll?' asks Heide, quick as anything.

'Of course, if I can find it.'

'But won't it be too dangerous to leave the Bunker now?'

'Perhaps one of the guards can come with me, then it'll be all right.'

Mama tells Papa she plans to go back to the house. Papa doesn't like the idea at all and tries to talk her out of it. He uses all his powers of persuasion, but Mama's mind is made up. Finally he gives in. 'At least take Schwagermann with you, he knows what's going on out there. He can help you carry things.'

Mama says goodbye as if it's the last time we'll ever see her, then she goes. I hope nothing happens to her — I hope the Russians don't capture her. It isn't until Herr Karnau pays us another visit that we all begin to feel a bit better. He does his best to cheer us up. 'The diet cook will be making your lunch today, just for once. It'll be really tasty, you mark my words.'

But it isn't as tasty as if Mama had cooked it. Heide isn't hungry. Is she worried about Mama or her doll?

'Remember the first time we met,' says Herr Karnau, 'and I let you give Coco some cheese rind?'

The others don't remember, but I do. It was at Herr Karnau's apartment. We didn't particularly like him at that stage.

'Was that where those funny animals were?' Hedda asks.

'The flying foxes, you mean?' says Hilde.

Herr Karnau laughs. 'No, long before that. You were very little, Hedda. You can't have been more than two.'

'That friend of yours,' Hilde says, 'the one who kept flying foxes, could he talk to all kinds of animals?'

'Could you teach us to talk to animals too?' Holde asks.

'But there aren't any animals here.'

'Only Coco.'

Herr Karnau gives in. 'All right, I'll go and fetch him. He's shut up in my room. Wait for me, I won't be a minute.'

As soon as he goes out we start worrying about Mama. Is she back at the house already? Is the house still standing? Hilde's as anxious as I am, but we mustn't let on to the younger ones. Fortunately, Herr Karnau soon comes back with Coco. He doesn't let him off the lead till they're inside the room. I suppose there must be people in the Bunker who are scared of dogs, even little ones. Herr Karnau starts his voice lesson. We hustle Coco into Mama's room and leave the door ajar, then Herr Karnau calls his name. Coco comes trotting in at once, wagging his tail. Heide holds out her arms and gives him a cuddle. 'Now,' says Herr Karnau, 'watch this.'

Coco is made to go back into the other room, but Herr Karnau doesn't call his name this time. Instead, he calls my name: 'Here, Helga!' Coco comes trotting in again, but why?

'Coco doesn't recognise words as such,' says Herr Karnau. 'He can tell when I'm calling him from my tone of voice.'

And again. This time Herr Karnau disguises his voice, but Coco still comes out of Mama's room and trots over to us as though every call sounded the same. Herr Karnau notices how surprised we're looking.

'You see? Coco doesn't answer to his name or his master's normal tone of voice, but not because he's stupid, far from it. His ears are so sharp, he'll recognise my voice under any circumstances — better than any human being could. If you want Coco to come to you, all you have to do is to call him in a friendly tone of voice.'

We take it in turns to call Coco, and Herr Karnau shows us what tone of voice to use to make sure he obeys. We only have to call him nicely and he comes and licks our faces. We're practising growling, howling and barking when Mama reappears. What a relief. The little ones rush over to her and Start rummaging in the bag of toys and cuddly animals she's brought with her. Heide hugs her beloved rag doll, dangling legs and all, but she's gone very quiet. Her cheeks are flushed, and Mama sees at once she isn't well. 'Come with me,' Mama says, 'we'd better take your temperature.’

*

Tonight we can hear the terrible noise of the bombing and shelling, even down here in the Bunker. The explosions make our beds shake. We all wake up, and the little ones start crying.

'What's happening, Helga?'

'Have they hit the Bunker?'

'Will we be blown up?'

'No, they can't hit us down here. Definitely not.'

We lie in the dark and listen to the noise overhead. It never stops, one crash after another, and everything shakes: the bunks, the floor, the table. It sounds as if the shells are getting nearer. Nobody dares to get up and turn the light on. Heide's whimpering now. Why doesn't someone come? Is Mama fast asleep? Is everyone else working, or have they gone and left us all alone? It's no use calling, the explosions are too loud. We all lie staring up at the ceiling.

'Shall we all get into bed together? It'll be less scary.'

The others scramble on to my bunk, complete with animals and bedclothes. It's very warm with all of us lying so close together in a tangle of arms and legs. The sleeve of my nightie is wet with Holde's tears.

'Don't be frightened, all of you. The Führer will beat our enemies in the end, that's what all the noise is about.'

Heide's hot little head is resting on my chest. We both lie there staring up at the ceiling when the others have gone back to sleep. Will Herr Karnau help to get us out of here? Unless Mama and Papa do something, he's the only person left who can help us.

Papa's skin looks worse than usual when he wakes us in the morning, probably because he hasn't slept much either. He and Mama go into the room next door. They want to talk in private, but you can hear what they're saying if you listen hard. Papa asks Mama how things were at home when she went back there. Mama is absolutely furious.

'You can't imagine. Everything in chaos, every last room, and filthy footprints all over the carpets. As for finding the children's things ... The servants had disappeared long ago, they simply walked out with whatever they could carry. Now the Volkssturm have taken over the house. They didn't want to let me in at first. I was stopped by a boy of fourteen or so — he was standing guard with a rocket launcher. Think of it: fourteen years old and a soldier — a child like our Helga. What was he going to do with that rocket launcher? I doubt if he knew one end from the other.'

Papa doesn't say anything. Either that, or he speaks so softly I can't hear him because the noise is bad again. The others seem to have got used to it overnight, they're playing with their toys in the passage. All except Heide, who's being kept in bed because she's still got a temperature. Suddenly I can hear Papa quite clearly, he's almost yelling now.

'You expect me to worry about such trifles? Have you any idea of the prevailing mood down below? Morale is at rock bottom. Things can't go on like this much longer, the Führer's nerves are in shreds. Can you imagine how he takes it out on the rest of us?'

A shell bursts overhead. It drowns Papa's voice, or perhaps he breaks off because of the noise. The next word I catch is 'chocolate'. 'Chocolate, chocolate!' he keeps shouting.

I wonder what he means. Is there some chocolate in the Bunker? Would they give us a bar? We'd share it out fairly if they did. A chorus of delighted cries from the passage: 'Herr Karnau's coming, Herr Karnau's coming!'

Herr Karnau looks at me. 'Hello, Helga, brooding about something?'

'Not really. What's the date today?'

'It's Tuesday, isn't it? Then it must be the twenty-fourth.'

'Can I ask you a favour?'

'Of course.'

'It's Hedda's birthday soon — May the fifth — but we don't have any presents for her yet. Papa was talking about chocolate just now, and a bar of chocolate would make her a really nice present. Would you see if you can find one somewhere?'

'I'll certainly keep my eyes open. It might be worth taking a peek in the kitchen some time.'

'Hedda mustn't find out, though, or it wouldn't be a surprise.'

'My lips are sealed.'

Herr Karnau smiles. He's the only person I can trust to keep a secret.

*

'Mosquitoes!' squeals Hedda. 'There they are, outside!'

Mama looks startled. 'The Mosquitoes can't get at us down here.'

'But look, Mama, there they are, flying around outside the door.'

Sure enough, the passage is full of little black insects. Mama says, 'Oh, you mean fruit-flies.'

'No, mosquitoes.'

'Those aren't mosquitoes. Mosquitoes sting, fruit-flies don't.'

'But there are so many of them.'

'They come from the kitchen, Hedda. They won't hurt you.'

Mama must have thought she meant those enemy aeroplanes. She looks relieved. 'How about some lunch? Hungry already?'

'Yes, a bit.'

Holde says, 'Will there be strawberries for lunch, Mama?'

'No, I'm afraid we don't have any strawberries. Anyway, it isn't summer-time yet.'

'Strawberries would be nice, though.'

'Yes, sweetheart, very nice. Later on, maybe, when we get out of here. Never mind, we'll cook ourselves something good.'

We have to stay in our room whenever Mama goes to the kitchen to prepare our meals — she says the cook isn't too keen on having children in the kitchen. Sometimes, when we have lunch, they're only just clearing away the grown-ups' breakfast things. That's because they get up so late. They work till late at night, Mama says, so they sleep till midday. We have to keep quiet until they wake up, the same way as we have to keep quiet when they take their afternoon nap, which is really their night's sleep. It's crazy. We're only allowed down on the lowest floor when they're awake, not otherwise, and at nights, when everyone else is up, we're asleep.

You can't think straight when you're always having to scurry to and fro because you're scared. It makes everyone stupid. You can't talk properly when you're scared, either, or not much. It's the same with everyone, not just us children. The things we say get shorter and shorter. Mama's and Papa's sentences often consist of single words like 'What?' or 'Yes?', as if they've only just noticed that one of us has said something — as if the air's like treacle and our words have to fight their way through it, one by one, and take a while to reach their ears. Anyone who can still think straight and put long sentences together must be really thick. We're done for, and they haven't realised it yet.

Everyone sounds odd down here. Papa's voice never sounded like this before, nor did Mama's. Even when she smiles you know there's something wrong. There are some weird-looking people in the Bunker, and even the ones who used to be quite normal are behaving in a funny way. You'd think they'd all gone crazy. There's one man whose eyes keep twitching all the time, and not long ago someone else suddenly shouted out, 'The Bunker is a fountain of youth!' — whatever he meant by that.

Everyone was startled — they stared at him with their mouths open. People don't raise their voices here as a rule. Visitors keep arriving. They go downstairs to the lower level, but they never stay long, then they leave. Sometimes we see them walking past, but they usually look grim and say nothing. What news do they hear down there that's so terrible? We're allowed downstairs too — every day, if the Führer feels like seeing us — but nobody tells us anything. They just make friendly noises and say things are fine. Won't anyone tell us how we're really doing? The Führer's mouth keeps twitching, his lips tremble all the time we're with him. Then his doctor, Herr Stumpfecker, comes in and tells us it's time to go back upstairs.

*

Let's play digging. We'll pretend the teaspoon's a little shovel and the sugar's sand. There's a heap of it in the sugar bowl, and we've got to dig a hole. The hole keeps filling up with sugar. If you hold the sugar back with another spoon so it doesn't trickle into the hole, you can see a little bare patch on the bottom. It's shiny, the bottom of the sugar bowl, but grains of sugar are starting to cover it again.

'Hedda, take your fingers out of the sugar bowl.'

A fork. A fork makes a good rake. You can flatten the sugar with a spoon and then rake it with the fork.

'What shall we play now?'

'Can we have some strawberries?'

'There aren't any strawberries, so don't keep asking. How many more times do I have to tell you?'