North (37 page)

I see I've been taking you for a ride . . . can't be helped, it's my age! I've been telling you about those lady soldiers with their platforms up in the trees . . . we saw the same perches at the edge of those pine woods . . . but what about those sequoias? all I could see was plain ordinary trees, larch, beech, wild cherry . . . I finally ask . . .

"Sequoias, Madame la Comtesse?"

"No! . . . no! . . . farther on!"

Maybe so, but we'll never get there . . . the road's getting worse and worse, all mudholes, the charabanc tilts . . . tilts! . . . the ladies too! . . . we're all going to fall out! . . . I don't think I'm any more undignified than the ladies . . . we go on very slowly . . . from puddle to puddle . . . and finally . . . ah! taller trees on both sides . . . this must be it! the famous forest! . . . I don't say a word, I wait . . . maybe another mile . . . or two . . . the road's not so bad now . . . we're coming to their lousy rallying point . . . sawed off tree trunks . . . they weren't lying . . . I've seen big trees in Africa and, believe me, these here were very imposing . . . and the deep shade under those enormous branches! . . . we stop . . .

"Are you tired?"

"Oh no, Madame! . . . not at all! . . . we're so pleased! . . . enchanted!"

"Then shall we get out . . . shall we? . . . it's not raining . . . we shall have our lunch . . ."

"Certainly . . . certainly, Madame . . ."

Always willing . . . we never say no! . . . in the shade of the big trees . . . Inge and her mother want to go on a little farther . . . they have a few words together . . . "there they go!" I say to myself . . . "I knew it! they're in this together!" . . . I'd had my suspicions from the start, especially all those sandwiches . . . and the
pâté en croûte
. . . with mushrooms! . . . no, thank you, fair ladies!

"Madame! . . . Madame!"

They're calling . . . it's Lili they want . . . out behind the trees . . . she comes back . . . nothing much . . . they've been peeing . . . I assure you, I'm not talking about peeing for the hell of it . . . it seems that Inge wants to get back in the carriage . . . okay, why not . . . we wait . . . ah, here are the ladies! . . . at last! . . . and now the picnic! the baskets! . . . after the first sandwich Countess Thor von Thorfels starts up . . . she wants us to listen and correct her French . . . my oh my! never do that! foreigners want to speak their own special French, all mistakes . . . be very careful not to find anything wrong with it! even very politely! . . . we're expected to keep very quiet and listen . . . the balls at the Hotel de Ville . . . Monsieur Bourgeois . . . and Monsieur Bourgeois again . . . Sarah Bernhardt in her dressing room . . . the Duchess de Camastra ° . . . Boni de Castellane ° . . . Sem ° . . . 

Inge attends to the baskets . . . she sets out the lunch . . . they've got everything . . . sausage,
pâté
,
delikatessen
, watercress, jam . . . I watch her, every move . . . it doesn't look like much, but it's exhausting . . . watching every move for years . . . the meaning behind it, the intentions . . . all around you . . . and not for an hour, for twenty years! . . . in and out of stir . . . that's a long time! . . . humans with their gestures and intentions . . . ship them all to the ends of the world and they'll come back still worse! . . . even pulverized, sub-atomized, they'll coagulate into maggots . . . superactivated worms, so otherwordly vicious that they make death impossible . . . never mind! . . . we were talking about the picnic under the sequoias . . . Lili, Le Vig and me, we've agreed not to touch a thing . . . but we've got to be polite, we pretend . . . Lili hands me a sandwich . . . another . . . Le Vig too . . . I've got enormous pockets . . . only one hand free, but it's very deft . . . I think . . . the only trouble . . . if they see my pockets swelling up . . . they won't like it . . . I throw a few sandwiches behind me . . . and I chew . . . and chew some more . . . and tell the old battleax that it's really amazing all she's seen in Paris! . . . the Exhibition . . . the Ferris Wheel . . . and the Charity Bazaar . . . a year later she'd have gone up in flames!

"You think so? . . . really? . . ."

"Yes indeed, Madame!"

"I was invited, you know!"

"Certainly, Madame!"

I evoke . . . I evoke . . . the Charity Bazaar . . . the greatest names in France . . . a furnace! . . . what a disaster! . . . while she's busy with her emotion I stuff my pockets . . . have I got pockets! . . . ten! twelve on each side . . .
lebewurst!
. . .
foie gras
. . . it spreads, it melts, it oozes . . . my pants are full of it. . . I'll be afraid to move . . . horrible when I have to! . . . but Inge interrupts her mother . . . time to get up . . . the picnic's over . . . at least a three-hour drive ahead of us . . . the horses are rested . . .

"And besides, Mother, you know I must speak to the doctor!"

Ah! what's that? talk about what? plenty of chance to speak to me in Zornhof, so why here? . . . some gimmick again? must be something they've cooked up together . . . mother and daughter. . . Madame Thor von Thorfels takes Lili and Le Vig off in the other direction . . . that clinches it . . . under another set of sequoias . . . leaving me alone with Inge . . .

"Come along!"

She wants me to follow her . . . sure thing! . . . I obey . . . first on my knees, then standing . . . with the help of my two canes . . . my pants are dripping . . . both legs . . . butter and mayonnaise . . . and
pâté
. . . hands her a laugh! . . .

"So sorry!"

"But you haven't eaten a thing! neither has your friend! or your wife!"

Me and my deftness . . . she'd seen it all! . . . and how comical I am! . . . very German when she laughs, hard, embarrassing to look at . . . the Teutons weren't made to laugh . . .

"Do empty your pockets! .. , shall I help you?"

I don't need any help . . . if that's the way it is,
plunk! plunk!
. . . I scoop out the gook by the handful! . . . and throw it away!

"And now come this way . . . if you please . . . I must speak to you . . ."

Another one! . . . this mania of theirs for taking you off somewhere . . . they've all got it! Kracht's not the only one! . . . a little stroll . . . where's this Inge going? . . . and say, what about Hjalmar the beadle? . . . and the
Revizor?
. . . and the pastor? . . . Kracht had asked me specially . . . I could ask Inge . . . but she wasn't in a listening mood, she was leading me farther, away I . . . very soft this ground, carpeted with sequoia needles . . . the long-legged bitch! . . . I don't trust this woman . . . she walks better than I do, she hasn't got two canes to get in her way, she takes big long strides . . . all of a sudden, whoopsie-daisy . . . she lifts up her skirt! . . . above the thighs! high spirits! . . . not bad, pretty good muscles, and long . . . but Christ, this is no time . . . it'll never be time again, I've seen enough legs for a lifetime! . . . my thoughts are elsewhere, Inge! . . . the play's over, the curtain's down! . . . women's sexuality never gives up, they don't realize that men . . . even the worst priapic monsters . . . a drop of rain and it all shrivels up! . . . they want it, they want it! . . . it's a terrible blow to the ladies when a man can't get it up! take female cats, the way they feel about spayed toms! . . . massacred if they don't run away! . . . but where can I run to? . . . I'd better show a little interest . . . we come to a stump . . . not very big . . . room for one to sit on . . . she invites me to sit close to her . . . okay! . . . we're way deep in the woods, I think . . . nobody can see us . . . I think . . . but not so sure . . . maybe somebody's taking our picture? or better still, marksmen in the treetops? . . . or markswomen! I wouldn't be surprised! . . . she takes my hand . . . both hands . . . maybe I ought to kiss her? . . . the polite dung to do? . . . I don't know . . . this business of dragging me off so far . . . in the shade of these thick . . . matted branches . . .

"Doctor, I've got to tell you!"

She kisses me . . .

"You must have noticed?"

No answer from me . . .

"My husband, you see . . ."

Time for a bit of emotion . . .

"Oh yes! . . . yes, Madame!"

"Oh, but you haven't seen it all!"

I can guess the rest . . .

"Well, I wanted to ask you . . ."

"Please do, Madame!"

"Oh, it's something very difficult!"

White of her to tell me . . .

"Kracht knows . . . but he doesn't want to . . . he's a pharmacist, you know, but he's an SS-man too . . . you know . . ."

I dont see what that has to do with it . . .

"Well then, Madame?"

"You know that my husband strikes me . . . he's not bad . . . by nature . . . but in his fits . . . you've seen him! . . ."

Oh, I'm quick and keen . . . with all the nights, so many nights, I spend thinking I can foresee just about anything . . .

"You know what I'm going to ask you?"

"I have an idea, Madame . . ."

"You think so?"

She opens her blouse . . . blue silk . . . enough for me to get a good look at her breasts . . . and between her breasts a slip of paper . . . carefully folded . . . she hands it to me . . . it's in French, typewritten . . . typewriters are rare in Zomhof, I haven't seen any. . .

"You've got your permit to practice?"

I play it dumb . . .
^,

"Erlaubnis?"

"Oh yes, Madame! oh yes!"

I ponder . . . she thinks I'm stupid . . . she takes my hand again . . .

"Feel how it's beating!"

She presses my hand to her heart . . . and then good grief! between her legs! the other hand! . . . expects me to play the game! . . . a little fun! . . . no dice! no dice! Madame Inge still has her hopes! . . . she hasn't caught on yet, we have! . . . she thinks with a few little dodges, a murder or two, she can solve her problem . . . I wish her luck! . . . but ever since the Gare de l'Est, since the ticket gate . . . we've known what to expect . . . that we're fair game for the crummiest con jobs . . . bound bands and feet . . . Madame Inge thinks her tricks will take . . . don't be silly! . . . what is this? . . . crude stuff, my lady, crude stuff!

"What did you wish to ask me, Madame?"

She hesitates . . . does she really dare? . . .

"Of course, Madame!. . . by all means! . . ."

And out it comes! . . . with my "permit to practice" I'm to go to Moorsburg and make the acquaintance of Hase . . . and speak to him and ask him for a few drugs . . . Mathias Hase the druggist. . . nothing to it! . . . let's see what these drugs are . . . neatly typed in French . . . Dolosal . . . curare . . . morphine . . . cyanide . . .

"As much as he can give you!"

One little recommendation! . . . there were two druggists in Moorsburg!, but hers, the one I was supposed to see, was right on the road, I'd find it easy, I'd see a statue . . . Fontane! ° Fontane! in a frock coat! . . . I can't go wrong . . . right in front of the drugstore . . . the statue! . . . ah, I'm to go alone! . . . Lili and Le Vig will wait for me . . . I see she's got it all figured out . . . where did she get this slip of paper with the French typing? . . . I don't ask her, I'll find out later on . . . what I feared for the moment was that instead of being supposedly alone we were having our picture taken . . . the bushes full of cameras . . . that the whole thing was a set up . . . and old lady Thor in cahoots! . . . in that case my goose was cooked! unlikely, you'll say! . . . not at all! . . . with her practically naked . . . knees! . . . belly button! . . . disheveled! . . . even if I had nothing to do with it! . . . thinking it oven fifteen years later . . . I wouldn't have given her more than ten out of twenty . . . you won't often find ten out of twenty, even in the most celebrated beauties . . . good Lord! what a patchwork of imperfections! . . . wads, blubber, cellulitis . . . they only bear looking at sitting down, in the drawing room or in a car . . . or reclining, after the massage . . . All in all: what interested us was getting out of there! . . . no time for bedtime stories . . . Inge was just behindhand . . . she hadn't caught on yet . . . Mathias Hase and his drugs? poison her cripple? what did that have to do with us? trifles! . . . there'd be plenty more of the same, I could bank on that! . . . people who live in comfort see the world all pink and fluffy, they think everything'll come out all right! and their own crummy capers . . . what about them? slander!

"Certainly, Madame, certainly! . . . tomorrow!"

"I can't'go with you . . . you must go and see Mathias alone . . . you mustn't take your wife . . . or your friend . . ."

"Oh, of course not!"

"You must deliver these medicines to me personally . . . but immediately! . . . immediately! . . . you'll ask for me at the farm . . ."

I couldn't go wrong . . . detailed orders . . . while smoothing out her dress . . . and fixing her hair . . . it was all over the place . . . we couldn't have looked worse if I'd raped her . . . photographers? . . . I couldn't see a thing . . . nothing in the underbrush . . . nothing in the treetops . . . Madame Inge struck, me as capable of anything . . . hell, the rest of them too! . . . the old bag, the
Rittmeister
, and the cripple . . . not to mention his colossus! . . . the whole lot of them! . . . manor, farm, hamlet, prisoners . . . even the geese . . .