The Wall (90 page)

During the story of my dream Johanna had moved closer and closer to me, and now we walked arm in arm, which was the best thing to do, given the slippery path, in order to hold each other up. Johanna didn’t say a thing when I had finished; there was nothing more to say. Without saying a word, we headed toward our destination in order that we not arrive too late for dinner with our hosts. But this dream and my reporting of it to Johanna stayed with me, for its sacred truth felt salutary and manifested itself within me. Whether it’s still there within me today I don’t know. I cannot know for sure, yet in my powerlessness, which I acknowledge, I have been freed, or, to put it more precisely, I am more freed than before. The shadows that rise up within me and in my dreams have eased. Franziska, Father, and Mother, after many groundless attacks that have torn me to shreds, have released me from their hold. Nothing more of their fate is a part of me; it is as if I am my own person. It’s as if I exist. Enough, that’s enough.

I stood staggering before existence, but I was the one who staggered, and there is something there that relates existence and me to each other, perhaps never comfortably but reliably. Because Johanna is here. How far
away can she be? Here she is. I can call to her, I can ask for her help. She’s alive, and here am I. Indebted to a forgiving protectoress and existing only through her. And the children, their happy chirping, their liveliness, their inviolateness, and whose earthly father I remain. Their friend, they who have someone stronger than they to thank, a guardian who prays for them and can pray. Their quick daily growth under the care of their mother. She takes care of them—Johanna speaks and sings and is sweet to them day after happy day. How wonderful it is that Anna can enjoy such lovely company for a day almost every week. The children love their aunt more than anyone but ourselves, and it’s best that she no longer lives so far away in the country, from which she rarely could visit. She now has a high-level position in a new home for the blind not so far away from us.

Whenever Anna is free she often comes by in the evening, spends the night with us, and then we have a lovely morning together and happily spend the whole day with one another. Now I hear the women and children. They appear to be done, and soon the call to breakfast will occur, Michael will be off to school, Eva to kindergarten. Without a doubt the boy will insist that Anna take him, while I will have to settle for the honor of ambling along behind them with Eva. I had to hurry to get ready while Johanna worked to prepare breakfast, hurrying around with clanging cups and plates in the back room, then again to the kitchen, everything soon ready. How easy it was to accept all of her sweet care, the unfolding of little daily concerns being Johanna’s helpful contribution. Now I was ready and wanted to go across to the others and was already standing at their bedroom door. Then the doorbell rang, and it was certainly the mailman. Michael loved to greet him, so he quickly skipped through the hall to the front door. But this time I could tell that I had to be the one to open up, and so I hurried along beside the boy. When I opened the door, the world outside was bright and wide. The air that pressed against me was fresh, a clear autumn morning. Though it wasn’t his fault that he had often brought disappointing news, the mailman is a nice man with whom I’ve always been on good terms. But never before had he laughed with me with such relish. He must have known something—namely, that he was bringing good news.

“A registered letter, Herr Landau!”

He handed me the receipt to sign, along with his blackened, thick,
nubby pencil, the kind that only mailmen carry on their appointed rounds. With a quick motion, I signed my name and was ready to accept my letter.

“The letter?” said the man, looking at me with a smirk. “It’s out there in the street.”

I then looked out at the street and recognized, to my horror, the hearse that the pallbearers had previously arrived in to take me to the crematorium. I wanted to say, “It’s a mistake, it’s a mistake,” and run off and slam the door behind me, but I didn’t move from the spot. I saw how the mailman bowed to me reverently before he went on his way. His behavior confused me, such that I didn’t even thank him. Then the pallbearers, Brian and Derek, jumped out from behind the hearse and opened it up such that I beheld a beautifully decorated coffin. I was not ready for such a warm welcome; who had gone to such efforts to take care of my meager existence? But I was pleasantly surprised, for the men in their handsome suits doffed their hats to me, which isn’t customary here, and approached respectfully, not even daring to pass through the open gate on the tiled path that led to the front door. They remained standing outside on the sidewalk and stood there politely and humbly as if waiting for a sign from me before they would even say a word. This good behavior pleased me, though the visit itself wasn’t that welcome, for I was not at all inclined to let myself in for such an unprofitable business just because of some insensible duty assigned to the pallbearers by someone, and which they wished to fulfill. The mailman was already gone and did not care about us. I saw him huddling in the Byrdwhistles’ doorway as I finally roused myself to do something.

“Gentlemen, there are no dead here to haul off. You made that mistake with me once already, and I won’t stand for it again.”

Derek and Brian didn’t react at all, and just continued standing there with heads bent. I looked them both dead in the eye and observed that, despite hanging their heads, they were both shaking shamelessly with laughter. I felt that there was something sympathetic and forgiving in their expressions, as if they grasped a deep misunderstanding, which caused them to immediately summon the kind of respect that was only proper to their lower position. I looked for the mailman once again, but what could he know as he hopped from house to house in a carefree manner, hardly thinking about me but, rather, about his work, he seeming less and less important the farther
off he moved. I had done nothing for him other than sign for the delivery, but even that, even that was too much; he had my signature, meaning that I alone had to worry about what to do with these pallbearers.

“Do you have some kind of message for anyone at this house?”

The pallbearers breathed more easily and looked at me officiously.

“You, then,” Brian replied, “are the famous Herr Dr. Adam Landau?”

I nodded and corrected him: “Arthur!”

“That doesn’t matter, Arthur or Adam, it’s all the same.”

“If you say so.”

This I said in a somewhat melancholy way, but I didn’t think much about it.

“You mustn’t be sad, Herr Doctor,” Derek confided. “We are here on a happy occasion.”

With an encouraging look, Brian agreed, but he seemed to disapprove of Derek’s rude talk. Then he said, “My colleague is right, the news is good.”

“So, then, tell me, Brian!” I said, such that he shut up, surprised that I had called the man by his first name.

Then the front door of the hearse opened, and the driver—I remembered right away that he was called Jock—got out with some difficulty and walked right up to the gate, where he greeted each pallbearer in turn. He had also left the door open behind him, and next to his seat I saw someone hunkered down in the hearse. It was a very old man who was wrapped up against the season in a winter coat, over which a long beard fell. The man looked familiar to me, but I could have been wrong; in any case, I likely wouldn’t have been able to recall. But then, after a moment, I realized that it was the director of the crematorium, who had interceded personally, because I had given the pallbearers such a hard time during their last visit. Yet that probably wasn’t true; the old man had likely come along for some unknown reason and had nothing to do with the task of picking up the dead. He couldn’t care less about me and the three assistants, but instead just sat there unmoving, as if the whole thing had nothing to do with him.

Brian let Jock approach, and Jock planted himself between Derek and Brian and slung his arms fondly over the two of them. Did the pallbearers feel too weak to carry out their task, such that they had to rely on the
driver’s help? Brian, whom I had asked to speak up, still didn’t speak. If the behavior of the men, who stood before me like a living wall, had not been so polite, I would have been very angry and felt there was horseplay afoot. In a room behind me, breakfast was waiting; I could hear the voices of my family and couldn’t stand here in the doorway for long. I also wanted to avoid an embarrassing appearance, and to protect Anna from any kind of unpleasant business.

“Gentlemen, you know from your last visit that I was willing to follow you to the crematorium. Or not willing, to be honest, but still I went along. And yet nothing came of it. All of a sudden, you disappeared and everything was over. It all came to nothing. That can’t happen again. I am still alive; everyone in this house is alive. I’m also expecting someone. Please acknowledge that you’ve made a mistake and leave me alone!”

The three men looked at me, disappointed, yet none said a word. Probably it was hard for them to know what to say, or perhaps they were just cowardly. I could tell that I still had to say something.

“Well, then, Brian, don’t make any fuss and finally drop this business for good! I want to have breakfast and don’t have any time for this.”

“Oh, please, please, don’t be so impatient!”

“No, really, don’t be!” whispered Derek and Jock intently in order to back up Brian.

“I’m not impatient, but enough of this talk, if that’s what you mean by happy news!”

“We’re here to pick you up.”

“That’s what I in fact thought. But today you won’t get me so easily. Show me your orders!”

“I don’t have any orders, only an honorable duty.”

“I doubt that I will honor your duty. But that’s enough, off with you!”

“My colleagues and I have to put up with all you say, if that’s what suits you. Still, I would really appreciate it if you would handle us a little more respectfully. It really hurts when you offend us, for we are not allowed to answer back.”

“I don’t mean to offend you, Brian, but if you won’t listen any longer, then you have to explain in no uncertain terms what it is you want.”

“Here in the middle of the street? Are you serious, Herr Doctor?”

“Well, then, come into my study. But promise me that it won’t take very long.”

I immediately regretted inviting the men in, but there was no turning back now and, strangely, not once was I afraid that they outnumbered me three to one. With their hats in their hands and allowing me to take the lead, the three followed me into the house and into my study. I shut the door firmly behind them, walked over to my desk, where the completed manuscript of my
Sociology of Oppressed People
lay, sat down, and pointed to some chairs, indicating that my little-desired guests should take a seat. However, they didn’t respond to my gesture of invitation but stepped up to my desk as if they wanted to admire my work, though they kept a bit of a distance, which made it clear to me that they were indeed serious about being respectful.

“Well, then?” I said to Brian again.

“I have the duty to invite you to the Sociology Conference of the International Society of Sociologists at Shepherd’s Field, and to take you there as well.”

That couldn’t be right, I couldn’t possibly have heard right. The Sociology Conference. Shepherd’s Field? Pallbearers sent for such a duty, nor was I even a member of the society. Who was trying to make a fool of me? I didn’t know if I should be angry or just laugh, but I didn’t react at all.

“Did you bring along a written invitation?”

All of the men seemed to wonder if they had. Brian squinted to either side of him at Derek and Jock before he answered me.

“An invitation, Herr Doctor? No, we don’t have an invitation. But that is not necessary, for you are a guest of honor. We are only little people who know nothing. We were just given an assignment, and now we are only doing what we were asked to do. For people like us there is no talking back, unless we want to lose our paychecks. Isn’t that right, Derek?”

“Yes, of course, that’s correct.”

“Precisely!” confirmed the one to the left.

“There you have it, Herr Doctor. We were sent, and we just do what we’re told. This time we had to deal with the mailman. That was new to us. Poor Jock had to drive at a snail’s pace. But what came of that? Nothing at all. And now we ask of you, let us take you to Shepherd’s Field!”

“To Shepherd’s Field? As I’m sitting here?”

“Yes. There they are holding the Sociology Conference. We’e supposed to bring you.”

“Not to the crematorium?”

“What do you think of us! It’s enough to make one cry, since you don’t wish to believe us! When I say Shepherd’s Field, then it’s Shepherd’s Field. Everything there, I’ve been told, is arranged for you.”

“Do I have to go with you?”

“No, no. Certainly not. We have an assignment, not you. You are requested to. But of your own free will. But, as I already said, we are lackeys, and if we don’t bring you it will be bad for us.”

“I could write a note saying that you carried out your assignment to the fullest. I can take all the blame myself.”

“Oh, please don’t do that, Herr Dr. Landau! Just come along!”

“You want to put me in the coffin?”

“Who told you that? We won’t put you in the coffin unless you tell us to. You have no idea how insistently we were told to only follow your lead. All we are supposed to do is give general directions, instruct, and advise. I’ve been doing this a long time, but I can’t recall ever being reminded so vehemently about our responsibilities. You are in charge, but please don’t cause any difficulties!”

“What do you think should happen? Tell me what your gut says, Brian!”

“You should sit, if you’re willing, on top of the coffin. Ahead and behind you will be flowers and wreaths. Derek and I will sit on either side of you, as your honor guard. We can support you or hold you by the hands so that during the drive, if it gets bumpy, you won’t lose your balance and fall. Also, the drive will be short, and the hearse has good springs. Jock will drive whatever speed you like.”