What Is All This? (34 page)

“Stand straight and tall, girls,” the officer said.

“No, that's all right,” Hitler said. They're standing fine. That one,” and he pointed the stick at Gretchen, who had the biggest buttocks and maybe the best shape of any of us. “She's quite charming looking, but her age is against her. Please,” he said to the officer. “To save them this embarrassment, you should have left behind the types I asked you to. Excuse me,” he said to Gretchen, and the officer snapped his fingers and she was escorted out.

Of the twelve girls left, maybe only Reni had a behind that came close to being as big as mine but still compact, if that was what Hitler liked most in a woman. She also had a bigger bosom and tinier waist and was blond and almost as young as me, so I thought he'd pick her. Then, maybe Hetta next, who was the real beauty of the bunch though perhaps too tall and slim for him and like me a brunette, with maybe long-legged Frieda and me coming in third.

“You,” he said, pointing to me. So I was out too. “I would like her. She has a bit more sparkle in the face than the others and a seemingly cheerier disposition, though you are all so nice for taking the time to come here today and Colonel Beineman will see that you are adequately recompensed. Thank you,” and he saluted us with the stick and left.

The rest of the girls crowded around me. “Oh, Gerta, you are so lucky,” they said. “You clever girl. I bet you winked at him and showed him a peek of what you had, isn't that so?”

The winner and new champion, perhaps,” Clothilda said, raising my hand above my head. “You will be fantastic. He will adore you and be fantastic. Play your cards right, my darling, and you can take that other whore's place and give orders in all his castles and feed his huge dogs.”

“Just be careful and return to us safe and sound,” Mrs. Dorter said.

The rest of you please return to the cars you arrived in,” the commanding officer said. “Mrs. Dorter, see Colonel Beineman, and you, please,” he said to me, “come with me?”

I got into the hotel elevator with him and two guards. “You have nothing that can be construed as weapons,” he said. “Barrettes, nail-files, clippers—mind if I search?”

“And if I did?”

“I'd have the matron do it. I don't take liberties with women, madame.”

“Search me.”

He searched me during the elevator ride. “You're clean. Now be good to the leader, you hear? He doesn't need to be counseled or consoled, just relaxed. Say only pleasant and reassuring things to him. Beautiful day today—words to that effect. He won't find them rude or dumb and he will understand your unease. And don't be aggressive or suggest anything unless he asks you to. He likes politeness and warmth. In other words, do what he says to do, and you will be amply rewarded, and if he comes this way again soon, you'll be his choice for a second time.”

“How long do you think it will be?”

This is between you and him. And I forgot: be responsive too. Whatever he does, say you like.”

Though I know he's not like anybody else, I do that with all my clients unless they're suffocating me with their weight or trying to murder me. Any other advice?”

“None I can think of. After it's over, he'll tell you so by leaving through the door to the adjoining room, and probably without saying another word. Then you get washed and dressed and see me outside your door.”

We walked down a hotel corridor where a lot of soldiers were. “Can I ask you one more thing? Why do you think he picked me?”

“He already said. He liked you. Your disposition and sparkle and such.”

“Some of the girls said they heard he only likes us young and with big buttocks and larger breasts than mine and maybe blond and a very narrow waist, which mine—though flat—is not. Any of that true?”

“He likes all kinds. Young, maybe, but most men do. But you with your brown hair and others with red or black or even dyed to those. But no more of this. Here is his room. Just go inside and undress and get in bed under the top sheet. He'll be in soon.”

I went inside and undressed and got in bed. There was an uncorked bottle of Moselle in an ice bucket by the bed. I'd like a drink but didn't know if I should take one. I'd wait. There was fruit too. And tiny cheese and wurst sandwiches on a silver tray. Truth was, I was getting nervous and would like something to eat and drink to calm my nerves. For what would I say to him? How was I to act? He'd see through any pose I put on.
La guerre
goes well,
mon general, n'est pas
? No, that wouldn't do. Whatever I'd say: no jokes. And suppose he didn't like me nude? My simple little appendectomy scar might put him off. Then he'd say so and I'd leave if he wanted me to, easy as that. I don't think he'd get angry. And he had so much power. That was what frightened me. I must be on my guard what I do and say. People who it seemed hadn't done or said anything had disappeared. Not anyone I knew, but friends of friends. All for a good cause, I'm sure, but some say no. But who was to say what was the good cause? A man with so much power could establish his own good cause. That was true. Just keep the words functional and complimentary and wait for the signals from him, that was the best way.

The door to the next room opened and he came out. He didn't say anything, just looked at the ceiling, blinking his eyes as if the light there was too bright for him, then looked at me. He was in slippers and a bathrobe. Very nice one too. Velvet. Red, with black piping and a thick braided rope. Stern, though, and it didn't seem a smile would ever come.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello. You're a very attractive young lady—you know that, don't you?”

“I've been told.”

“Hasn't gone to your head yet, has it?”

The Moselle?”

The Moselle? Oh, the Moselle. No, not that. You want some? Maybe you've had some.”

“I haven't. I thought I'd wait.”

“You should have felt free and helped yourself. I wouldn't have minded.” He was still standing by the door he'd come through, bathrobe still tied. “Did you think I would have got upset if you'd taken a glassful?”

“I thought it would be politer and more respectful of me to wait till you got here. It's your wine. I'm your guest and these are your rooms. I would wait till you offered it, that's what I felt.”

“It's the hotel's wine. They gave it to me. The best Moselle, they said. Let me see.” He came over and read the bottle's label. “Good, but not the best. So now it's our Moselle and I will only drink a glass if you'll have one too. No, that's not so. But drink a glass or two. Don't wait for me.”

“Do you want some? I'll pour it for you.”

“Yes, pour it. Why not? And I'll offer you sandwiches. That way, we can be polite to each other and give each other different things.”

Thank you.” I poured the wine into two glasses, held his glass out for him. We clicked glasses. He first, then I clicked his. I drank all my wine. He only sipped from his.

“You drank so fast,” he said.

“Because I'm a little nervous. Uh-oh, maybe I shouldn't have said that.”

“Nervous of me? Don't be. And say anything. I am in here like all other men. And you are young. And have nice breasts. I like them.”

Thank you.”

“I won't tell you why. That might embarrass you. You'll have to guess. All women's breasts are nice, but yours especially so. But I still won't say why.”

“I'll think about why you think they're nice later on.”

“Do. It's good to have something to think about later on.”

“You mean after you leave?”

“No, always. Always to have something to think about but not always to think about it. Activity. Physical and of the mind. Both you can't do very well together at the same time, now can you?”

“I don't think so.”

“Don't say so or agree with me unless you believe it.”

“I won't.”

Then what do you really think about it?”

“About what?”

That physical and mental activity can't go hand in hand together very well. And then, not too much of only one without the other coming soon after it, and on and on and on and interchanging themselves like that till you sleep. Thrust yourself into experience and then reflect on the meaning of it. But all reflection and no experience makes us mad. The opposite, and we are nothing but brutes. Now who previously said that?”

“I've no idea.”

“Guess.”

“Goethe?”

“Very good. You're educated. Or look straight at me and tell me you didn't read my mind.”

“I didn't.”

“Something happened. Or perhaps it is that you're just plain smart.”

“I went through your schools. And almost became a nurse.”

“You should have. And I'm excited by you, you know? Educated, or a mind reader. Both would do.” He sat on the bed. “Oh, I completely forgot.” He offered me the plate of sandwiches. “Eat, go on. You're young, maybe still growing. And you'll grow bigger, stronger, and wiser and maybe even telepathic if you take the headcheese.”

I took the headcheese sandwich, though I never liked it because it's gelatinous and all those foot and mouth parts.

“Don't take it just because I suggested you to. What's your favorite tea sandwich here?”

“Headcheese.”

“Truth now.”

“Actually, I prefer an unadorned cream cheese, but they don't have any here.”

“What they didn't supply for us here is not what I asked you.” He seemed miffed.

“I'm sorry, you're right. I was being selfish. Out of all these, the hard cheese on the black bread there. I like that best of all.”

“Then put down the headcheese.”

“Headcheese is nice too.”

“No, put it down. Eat what you like. You don't get that many opportunities for that now, am I right? Food is generally scarce. Not for me—I won't lie to you. But I'm sure it is for you. So here you have a choice. More than a choice—you can have all these sandwiches when you leave. Tell the commanding office that I said so.”

“He'll believe me?”

“It's what I usually do. He knows. You only don't get them if you don't tell him.”

“I'll tell him. Thank you. All the other girls would probably like some too, so we'll divide them up.”

“Do that. Very generous.” Then silence. He sipped his wine, was looking away from me. I didn't think I should say “Don't you want to remove your robe?” as I would have with any other customer by now. No: wait for the signals. He was paying more, for one thing. And he was who he was and would do it at his own time. And I'd made too many mistakes already. Though who could say—maybe he wanted me to take the lead. Maybe he was shy and unassertive in bed…but someone would have said, or maybe they hadn't heard. And maybe the commanding officer also didn't know and was only guessing at the right approach when he said don't be suggestive or aggressive.

“Would you like to come under the covers with me?” I said.

“In time.”

“Of course. In time. I'm sorry. I knew you knew better what to do. I think I said it out of force of habit. That's the truth now, even if my saying that about habit and all it alludes to might also be the wrong thing to say. But I'm getting in deeper and deeper, but I also have to admit I'm feeling more than a little nervous in your presence and I don't know what to do about it.”

“Calm yourself. As I said, I'm not unlike any other man in many respects. Act natural. I want that. Not fright or anxietude. I chose you because you seemed the one young woman downstairs who'd be least afraid of me and so would do what I want her to.”

“I'm not too different. A few of the other girls would have been like that too.”

“Yes, but I chose you.”

Thank you.”

“Come all the way out of the sheets this time and I'll sit on the bed more.

We did.

“Very nice breasts. Strong body. You are very nice. And you will be very nice to me too, all right?”

“Of course.”

“Lovely hair. Kiss me.” I kissed him. A little kiss. “Soft lips. Lovely lips.” He stood up and untied his bathrobe. He still had all his clothes on underneath except his jacket and belt with revolver. He got undressed, touching my thighs and forehead every now and then. Nude, he looked his fifty or so years in physique. He sat back on the bed. “I'm tired, though not much.”

“I've time. Really. And energy—all you wish.”

“Touch me. Hard if you like. Don't worry. Everyone can take a little hurt.”

“Down there?”

He nodded. I held and rubbed him.

“Now I'm going to lie on my stomach and I want you to do something.”

“I think I know what it is,” I said.

“No, you don't. Not even with your educated guess. I want you to urinate on me.”

“I couldn't.”

“Yes, you can. It's easy. And you must have done it to others. And everyone can urinate a little at most times. So do it.”

“Where?”

“Waist up, but principally on the top of my head. Now, please.”

I stood over him. “It's not as easy for us to direct it,” I said. I urinated on his shoulders first and then made it up to the top of his head.

That's good. Thank you, Now defecate on me.”

“I could never do that. And I never have.”

“It's harder, but try.”

“No.”

“You don't want to?”

“It's not that I don't want to. I'll do all the other things you want.”

“You can sleep with twenty men in succession in one evening—that's true—that's maybe an exaggeration—so you can't do this for me once?” He was getting angry again. “Please, dear—what's your name?”

“Gerta.”

“Please, Gerta, be nice. You said you'd be very nice, And you had the face of a nice girl, which is also why I chose you. So you do it once in your life. What's that? Once, and it's done. What is it even having it done to you once? And after, you can run to the bathroom without making an excuse. I don't ask for this all the time, I swear. Now, I'm ready.”