In Another Country, and Besides

by Maxwell Jacobs

  “Is that all right?” I asked. “Das ist gut?”

  “Yes. All fine,” he replied in English, tipped his hat, and walked off.

  “I bet he spoke perfect English, Swiss prick,” Finn said out loud.

  “Probably.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Just that we are only fishing with one hook and live bait.”

  “It really is a strange rule.”

  It was a little past noon now and the sun was hot. There was not much shade. It was damn fine weather and I was beginning to sweat. We had caught nothing. Finn broke the silence.

  “I’ve got to say, Harry, you seem different from when I saw you last.”

  “Really? How so?”

  “How so? You seem much more together. Like back in the old days, in Africa and New York. Before this Marie-Anne business.”

  He offered me a cigarette and I took one.

  “Anyway, I’m glad she disappeared. She treated you like s---.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I’m just saying, I know lesser men who would not have got through something like that. How you did and came out as you are, I will never know.”

  I put my hand on my forehead and rubbed it.

  “She was such a bitch, and to just up and leave like that after all you both went through. It’s unforgiveable.”

  “Finn, please.” I felt dizzy and started to remember. I felt sure I could remember now. You want to remember that? I tried not to remember anything. But there she was.

  I could see her face. I could see her face. I could see her gasp for help. I could see my hands at her throat. I could see myself on top of her.

  I lifted myself up and tried to stand but my legs wouldn’t hold and I came back down.

  “Harry,” Finn shouted. “Harry!” His words became softer until they were gone completely…

  I woke up with my head facing the sky. I sat up slowly and saw that Finn was not there. I tried to stand but my legs were jelly. I must have blacked out. Where’s Finn? Oh God, where’s Finn?

  “Finn?” I shouted. “Finn!”

  I looked around and into the water. I looked for blood and tried to gather my senses. I tried to stand up again, but my legs were all shot to hell.

  “Harry!” I heard him in the distance and turned toward the camp. Then I saw him. He was running toward me, and when he arrived I grabbed him and squeezed him tightly.

  “Thank God, you’re okay.”

  “Me, okay?” he cried. “What about you? You seemed to have passed out. I ran back to get some water. Here, drink this.”

  I took a big gulp and laid back on the wooden planks.

  “For God’s sake,” I said in a loud and defeated tone.

  I turned and looked out onto the lake and then the tree line and up on the tops of the mountains and onto the clouds. They were high and feathered. Suddenly I shivered.

  “It’s cold.”

  “No, it’s not. Go lie down and come back out when you are feeling better.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. Go lie down.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding slowly. I walked back and got into the hot tent, and it felt good to lie down.

  I’m a goner, I thought. Not only that, I’m going mad. How can I stop it? I can’t stop it and I can’t help it. There’s no air in this tent.

  I came out and looked at the water. The strange light that the sun made in the water irritated me. I took a deep breath. I wish I could erase everything. Starting with myself. I looked around on the grass and focused on a single blade. I ought to stop this. Self-loathing never helped anyone.

  Finn was eating fruit from a can when I came back out to the jetty.

  “Catch anything?”

  “Not a damn thing,” he sighed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better.”

  “Some wine?” he asked.

  “Sure, why not.”

  Fin pulled up the last of the bottles from the water. They looked cold and as they hit the sunlight, I could see the moisture beading down the bottleneck onto his hands. He passed the bottle to me.

  “Cheers.” I smiled. The wine was icy cold and gave me a chill.

  “Sorry about before, Harry.”

  “Let’s not talk about it, Finn. Everything is fine.”

  I smiled toward him and took a deep breath and rebaited my rod. I walked over to the other side of the jetty and sat down. I placed the rod on the side and took out my book. I was reading The Fight for Everest by E. F. Norton. It was about the third attempt for the summit. It was a good book and well narrated. I put my hat on and then the first pike took the bait. The rod moved quickly, and I thought it might go over the side, but I managed to grab it in time and slowly reeled it in. The rod bent almost double.

  “Finn!” I shouted. “Come and bring the landing net.”

  He ran over, flashing the net, unsure of what to do.

  “Don’t give it to me, for God’s sake, put it in the water and try to catch him!”

  “Right! Of course.”

  I pulled the fish in slowly and when he came to the surface he was splashing and dashing around. Finn managed to land him; he was big, of about twelve inches. We brought him up slowly in the net and then I grabbed his tail and threw him onto the jetty. He lay jumping around, compact and bullet shaped with his big eyes staring back at me while I thumped the life out of him against the wooden floor with the quick shivering strokes of his neat and fast moving tail. I banged his head hard one last time until his body shuddered, quivered and died.

  “Pretty nice, eh?”

  “Yes. Well done,” I said and we both sat back with contempt. I wrapped him in ferns and placed him in the rucksack. I looked up to the sky and then out to the fish. I looked at the sun carefully. The wind was rising and the lines all meant nothing now.

  It was dark when we came down toward camp, along the path between the trees and ferns. The country was very fine, but we were tired.

  We stayed two days at the lake and had good fishing. The nights were cold and the days were mild, and there was always a breeze. It was warm enough so that it felt good to dip in the cold water, and the sun dried you when you came out and sat on the bank. In the evenings we played three-handed bridge. Finn was pleasant and went on like he does. He didn’t bring up Marie-Anne again. On the last morning, we woke, packed up, and drove to the main station in Zurich and said our goodbyes.

  “Was great seeing you, Finn,” I said, and we shook hands.

  “You too, Harry.” He smiled before turning to walk away.

  “Harry!” I heard him call back.

  “Yes?”

  “I just want to say, this girl Maria and her kid,” he called out. “You’ve done nothing but talk about them nonstop, and I can see how happy you are. My advice to you is to stop hiding, get out there, and tell her how you feel. Who knows? It might be the best decision you ever made.” He smiled.

  “Thanks, Finn. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Well, adios amigo.” He raised a hand and eyebrow and with that he was gone.

  It was a good morning, there were high clouds in the sky. I felt good and healthy and excited about seeing Maria. You could not be upset about anything on a day like that.

  As I stood looking through the two thicknesses of glass, I saw no light on. I went in and saw her bags in the hallway. She was out on the terrace, smoking with her sunglasses on. I came outside, and she threw her cigarette down to the street and put her arms around my neck. We didn’t say a word. Just stayed like that for a while.

  “You’re leaving?” I murmured.

  “I have to, Harry,” she said.

  “No, Maria, please stay,” I breathed, inhaling the scent of her hair.

  “Oh, Harry,” she said softly.

  “I have so many things I want to tell you,” I said.

  “I do too, but now is not the time.”

  “Where will you go?” I asked.


  “Roberto found us an apartment in the center until he finds us something more permanent.”

  “What?” I pulled away. “You’re going back to him?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t get you, Maria.” I shook my head. “You came here to get away from him and now you go back? After all you have put yourself and Liv through with him. To just go back like this.”

  She looked away. I thought she was looking for another cigarette. Then I saw she was crying under her sunglasses. I could feel her grief. She was shaking and crying. She wouldn’t look up. I put my arms around her again.

  “Sweetheart, listen, you don’t need him,” I said gently. “I can look after you.”

  “But he’s Liv’s father,” she said into my shoulder. “I can’t just run away and cut him out of her life. He will always be her father.”

  She leaned back and lit another cigarette. I watched, feeling helpless.

  “You know you have options.” I stroked her hair and could still feel her shaking.

  “What options do I have?” she asked, her body full of fear.

  “You can stay with me. I can look after you.”

  She shook her head. “Roberto would never allow it.”

  “What do you mean he would never allow it?” I asked. “It’s your life and your happiness.”

  “You don’t know him like I do, Harry.” She leaned back from me and took off her sunglasses and looked me squarely in the face. Her left eye was cut below the eyebrow and was bruised black and blue. My heart sank.

  “He did that?” I asked. She put the sunglasses back on and looked down and searched for another cigarette.

  “What do you want me to say, Harry? That I fell? Hit my head on the sink?”

  “That son-of-a-bitch!” I hissed. “Where’s Liv?”

  “She’s with Roberto.”

  “For God’s sake, you can’t go back to him!” I cried. The telephone rang. I ignored it while I took a cigarette, but it kept going, and when it stopped it rang twice more.

  “It must be urgent, Harry.” It rang again. “Please go get it.” I picked it up. It was Finn.

  “Harry! Why don’t you pick up?” he cried down the line.

  “Calm down, I’m in the middle of something. Can’t it wait?”

  “No! I need you here with my passport. I left it in the car. The last train is in fifteen minutes.”

  “It’s really not a good time, Finn,” I said, unable to keep the exasperation from my voice. “Can’t you catch a later train?”

  “Are you joking? No, I can’t. It will take you ten minutes here and back.”

  “Fine,” I snapped. “I’m on my way.” I hung up.

  “Dammit!” I shouted and went back out to the terrace. Maria was looking at me through the window.

  “Listen,” I said quickly. “I have to go and give Finn his passport or he will miss his train. It’s the worst timing, I know. I’ll be back in ten minutes. Can you wait? Please wait. I have so many things that need to be said before you go.”

  “Whatever you have to say, Harry, please just say it now. Roberto is on his way to pick me up.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Here goes.” I took a deep breath. “I love you, Maria.”

  “Oh, Harry,” she said. “Now is not the time for all that.”

  “Please, Maria, we could have had such a damned good time together.”

  She looked down. I went closer and put my arms around her, then she kissed me and I kissed her. She was trembling in my arms. She felt small. In that moment she felt like a child to me.

  “Please stay with me,” I whispered and leaned back and looked at her once more. Her eyes were so big and so beautiful. I kissed her again.

  “You make me so happy. Please stay with me. The both of you.”

  “Harry.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “You should go.”

  “Listen, I’ll give you some time to think,” I said, holding her hand for a moment. “I’ll come back in an hour. I hope you’re still here.”

  And with that I got into the car and started to cry. I rode down to the station and dropped off the passport, then walked into one of the cafés and sank down into a high stool. I asked the barman for a whiskey straight. I downed the whiskey and then asked for another.

  IN ANOTHER COUNTRY, AND BESIDES

  ——

  BOOK III

  CHAPTER XVII

  WATCHING FROM THE third-floor window, the street looked empty and dark. The building across had no lights on and gave the impression of emptiness. Its white wooden shutters were closed and it had a big water stain on its white facade. I could see rain falling underneath the orange colored street lamp that moved with the wind. I switched on the light and looked down so he could see me.

  His black car was at the end of the street. He’d been there for two hours now and from a distance it looked like any other parked car. No lights on and no movements. But I knew he was there, just like I knew he was there the other nights.

  When she first told me about it six months ago it seemed like a silly crush that any man in his early fifties gets himself into when a younger, fresher, and prettier woman comes along. But this was different. Over the course of the last weeks the dynamics had changed into something else. She had also changed, but I wasn’t sure why.

  A car drove by and its headlights lit up the inside of the car, and there he was. He hunched forward, looking up toward me with both hands on the steering wheel. I could see his bony face and his cold blue eyes. It wasn’t a pleasant face. It was gaunt with deep wrinkles and tired puffy black circles under the eyes. His baldness had made him look older than he was, and he carried a nose that had a broad hump at the tip and the tip bent over. A scar on the top part of his forehead traveled five inches from his right temple. The scar was slightly darker than the rest of his head and looked like a bad stitching job of some sort, or perhaps it had never been stitched.

  I stood there by the bedroom window thinking about him and took a sip of whiskey. I wished he would just disappear. It had been weeks now of this incessant stalking and obsessive behavior. She should have never taken the damn job in the first place. He really knew what he was doing when he asked her. I imagined he loved having power over her. I looked down at my hands and wondered at their strength. They say to be strangled is a very painful way to die.

  Maria came into the bedroom. “There you are.” She saw me at the window and sat down on the bed. “Is he still there?” she asked.

  “He’s there alright.” I looked down at my watch. “It’s going on two hours and fifteen minutes. I think it’s a new record.”

  “Have you been standing there all that time?” she asked. I turned to look at her and shrugged, and then looked back outside.

  “He’s crazy for being there and you’re just as crazy for letting it bother you that much,” she said and came close and kissed me before taking a sip of my drink.

  “It doesn’t bother you that he does this?” I asked.

  “Yes, it bothers me, but what can I do? I like my job and I need the money.”

  “Well, it’s starting to annoy the hell out of me. I should really go out there and confront him.”

  “You know if you do that it will just complicate things.”

  “What I don’t get is why all of a sudden he’s doing this. Did something happen between the two of you?”

  “No, nothing happened. How can you ask that?”

  “It just seems strange to me, that’s all. Are you flirting with him?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m just being me.”

  “You are a little flirty with people.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Well, whatever you are doing, this is the result.”

  “I’m not doing anything, Harry. It’s not my fault that he has a crush on me.”

  “Please,” I said. “This is way beyond a crush. This is obsessive. Actually it’s gone past that and he’s turned into a full-on stalker. How do you go to that in the
space of six months?”

  “I don’t know. Ask him.”

  “You must be leading him on.”

  “I’m not, Harry. I just don’t think he’s happy in his own relationship, and perhaps he’s looking at me for a way out.”

  “I’m not sure, Maria.”

  “Please stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Your jealousy.”

  “I’m not jealous. I’m just sick of it.’

  “Well, I’m sick of the constant conversations about it. If you’re not pissed about Roberto then it’s David.” Her voice was raised.

  “Okay. Calm down,” I said, more to myself than to her.

  “No, I won’t calm down. I’ve had months of this from you and I can’t take it anymore. I have so much going on, with work, Roberto, and Liv. I can’t take it from you as well. You’re supposed to be my support, not add to my stress.”

  “Okay. Relax.” I went out of the room and made her a martini.

  “Can’t you just quit?” I asked as I walked back into the bedroom. She was now lying on the bed.

  “No, I can’t just quit. How can you ask me that?”

  “If money is the problem you can always move in with me.”

  “Harry, things are complicated enough. Please don’t complicate them more,” she said. “I need the job and I want to be financially independent. Please just support me. That’s all I ask.”

  “I do support you; I just don’t want you working for David.”

  “Just ignore him. I want to relax tonight and not get into a heavy discussion.” She switched on the side gas lamp next to the bed, took her clothes off, and wriggled her way under the covers.

  “I’m so tired, Harry. Can we not just go to bed?”

  “Fine.”

  I turned and looked out of the window. It was a black April night, hung as in a basket from a single dull star. The horn of the car came up through the window and was muffled by the cold air. There were street noises in the air, and she changed position. I got in bed and tried to rest, and when I couldn’t I raised myself up, walked over to the window, took a breath, and felt drunk on the air. I looked out to the street again. My mind returned to the hope that he would simply vanish.