The White House

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The White House Page 3

by O’neil Sharma


  Recently he had acquired a new secret that he also buried in the vault with the rest of it. It too was never to be mentioned and at his age, maybe he would get away with it.

  They were married within four months and for the first few nights he did not sleep at all. Not for the reasons most newly weds don’t sleep: he was petrified. In the darkness of his bedroom Saul smiled as the memories unfolded in his head. Sleeping in a chair was out of the question; it would simply raise the issue that could not be discussed. So tentatively and with great trepidation on the third night he closed his eyes and slept, pretending he was still sleeping in the chair. And it worked. He was able to transfer his comatose sleep pattern to the marital bed. Naturally every once in a while a nightmare bubbled to the surface but by now he could demonstrate so much control as to wake himself up before the dream progressed to the climax: He was the master of his thoughts and dreams.

  The alarm clock read two thirty and both Saul and Hannah slept.

  ‘Open the door,’ the voice whispered.

  Saul opened his eyes and sat up in bed. He extended his arm and put a finger between the hammer and the bell of the alarm at the instant the hammer started its movement. There was a light tap as the hammer made contact with his finger. He glanced across at Hannah and he could tell that she was still fast asleep.

  He swung his legs out of bed and sat for a moment looking at himself in the full-length mirror. There was a flash of shock, almost as if he had not expected to see himself. Then it was gone and he stood up to get ready for work: The life of a baker.

  #

  Saul, dressed for work sat at his kitchen table drinking a coffee. The kitchen was typical of kitchens in Berlin: too small for the size of the apartment. Didn’t most families spend the majority of their time in the kitchen? Surely this demands a space more on par with a living room? Even though the room was empty he took his usual place at the table, squeezing himself behind the table to face the door. To his left was the hob and oak work surfaces and to his right the sink and the fridge. A gleaming microwave stood perched on top of the fridge. A Mother’s Day gift that Saul had never seen Hannah use once. Even though he cooked for a living he was also wary of the latest addition to the kitchen which seemed to do nothing that could not be done by an oven or a pan. In fact this device demanded that you use special non metallic items or risk injury. Still, it was a gift that would have to be on display for a while.

  As always Saul savoured the alone time. The time before the chaos. Even though he no longer needed to be the first one at the bakery he always was, his regimen dictated his actions. He would get things going for Timo and then start his own work.

  The heat was already throbbing from the walls and floor and he could tell that it was going to be another scorcher. Berlin summers could be as fierce as its winters.

  He decided he would surprise Timo and Anja by making them breakfast. Get the day started on the right note.

  And then the naked dead girl skipped into the room and changed all that.

  She was about four or five with curly black hair and a round belly. Her skin was smooth and white and her cheeks rosy from the cold. Somehow she still smelled of soap. Under one arm she carried a teddy bear.

  ‘Can teddy come?’

  ‘Yes,’ Saul whispered with a smile. ‘But don’t let the others see.’

  With that, she skipped out of the room singing a nursery rhyme, taking the joy with her.

  ‘Hänschen klein

  Ging allein

  In die weite Welt hinein.

  Stock und Hut

  Steht ihm gut…,’

  Saul sipped his coffee.

  CHAPTER 4

  Breakfast never happened. He went to work and got the process started. By the time Timo and Anja arrived, the machines were droning and the oven was up to working temperature. He greeted them absently and continued to work, kneading a large batch of dough by hand. Timo, who reckoned Saul had caught the full force of Hannah’s wrath last night left him to knead it out of his system.

  Saul worked the dough hard, enjoying the feeling of it between his fingers and the sound it made when he slapped it down hard on the surface. He built up a good sweat and ignored the rheumatic pain in his left hand. He did not remember the dead girl - there were so many - and did not remember talking to her but he must have: she could not come from nowhere. Or could she? Could his mind have made it up? Were his memories lying to him?

  He realised he was losing control. Nightmares were one thing but now in the day when he least expected it his mind attacked him. The doctor had told him this could happen. What stage was he in now? Did it matter?

  Everyman’s life is sufficient.

  These were not his words but the words of Marcus Aurelius and ever since he had read them he’d been trying without success to reconcile them with his experiences. Of all the religions and philosophies he had read about the Stoics had come the closest to offering any understanding of what had happened and what he had suffered. Saul thought there was something of the Stoic in all of them and perhaps that was why they did what they did. He had given up trying to find an exact fit of an answer: he knew there would be none and although he tried to live the Stoic life it, like all the others, fell short of becoming his salvation. The principles were clear and made sense in most situations but like all doctrines, trying to apply them in the real world was impractical: Marcus Aurelius had never met a Nazi.

  Calm, reassure, placate. “Lie” was the word that superseded all these and he was good at it. He was even good at lying to himself. Time Travel. What rubbish.

  But what good the truth then or now? If he had told the truth back then what would have changed? Nothing. The end result would have been the same. Correction, the end result would have been the same but getting there would have been impossible. There would have been stress, anxiety, fear, violence and God knows what else. So why not let their last few moments with their families, friends and fellow humans be calm? Nothing could be done, and no one could be saved. These were facts.

  For the first week on the job new entrants were only allowed to work with the end result of the process. A week of that and you were ready to deal with the soon to be dead in full knowledge that there was no hope. A week of that and you were a robot.

  They were so very clever.

  His colleagues and he had decided to preserve the calming atmosphere to give the victims some humanity.

  Coffee and cake await.

  They had all lied. It was for the greater good; the only logical approach in a world that had no logic and no moral centre. Like all good lies Saul became invested in his own new lie and failed to question the logic of the system he had created: jaunting through time. The SS could not have put it better.

  I can still get away with this.

  #

  The zoo was full. School groups on their end of year trips enhanced the usual contingent of tourists. Teachers feigned attempts to make the day educational by providing the kids with sheets of pre-printed questions; the answers to which could be found in the various animal houses. These sheets now littered the floor as the children ran riot and the teachers tried to keep cool, after all, it was an escape for them too.

  Saul, Hannah and Aisha were at the Ape House watching the monkeys watch the visitors. It was too hot and the monkeys knew better than to run around, unlike their human cousins who were busy trying to taunt them into action. The animals were content to laze in the fumes of their own sweet smelling dung. Aisha had forgotten about the ice cream in her hand and it was now dripping onto her shoe.

  ‘Aisha,’ said Hannah ‘Be careful.’

  Hannah rummaged around in her handbag and found a tissue. She knelt down to wipe the girl’s shoe.

  ‘Sorry, Oma.’

  Saul turned the ice cream around so that Aisha could lick the source of the drip. Facing the cage once more he thought the monkeys seemed quite content. Most cities are a zoo, but West Berlin was literall
y a zoo, thought Saul. An island of capitalism fenced in by communist onlookers eager to see if they could get the occupants to dance, always probing, always teasing. Saul doubted that the communists ate as much ice cream though.

  Out of the corner of his eye he observed a flash of movement and turned to give it his full attention. He saw the walking skeleton stumble towards him.

  The man in the cage was a Muselmann. Nobody could ever tell him how these prisoners came to be called that; but someone had suggested it was because they were always collapsing, looking liked Muslims at prayer. This one was naked and had a shaved head. Lice were always a problem, Saul remembered. His bones protruded from his frame and with every step it seemed as though they might burst free of the skin that was stretched taught around them. He fell of course; they could never stand for long and started to crawl towards Saul. He was pleading. One arm outstretched trying to reach through the bars.

  Beside him, Hannah and Aisha seemed oblivious to the terror that was growing on Saul’s face. The man was closer now, crawling on all fours. He tried again to reach Saul; a desperate attempt to touch another human being before it was all over. From this distance Saul could see the bloodshot eyes, the heavily scabbed skin, his bloody knees and feet. His organs were already shutting down and the Muselmann smelled dead. At this stage even if the doctors got to him he would perish. Saul gripped the warm metal bars to steady himself. This time the man would make contact, those twigs he had for fingers were gripping the metal of the cage and soon they would be clinging to Saul’s trouser leg. Saul could already feel the smear they would leave as the man pleaded for Saul to do something. To lie, to tell him to go to sleep and he would be free of all this pain. The line about coffee and cake would not work on this one. But Saul was beyond speech, almost beyond breathing. He looked on in paralysed panic as the bony fingers made contact with the material of his white summer suit.

  Saul ran leaving Hannah and Aisha stunned. Hannah turned to follow but fast realised she could not leave the child behind.

  ‘Saul!’

  But he kept going. Not hearing and not seeing. He smashed past people and nearly overturned a hot dog vendor’s stall. He dropped to the floor but was up and running before the confused owner could come to the old man’s aid. Saul ran until everything became a blur and his lungs burned. His aged body screamed in protest but still he powered on until the firm grip of Isaac Blum brought him to a halt.

  ‘Saul.’

  Saul stared at the stocky man before him. Despite the heat he wore a jacket and tie, the bottom of which curved like a ski jump on his stomach. At that instant Saul did not recognise his friend and tried to escape from his grip. Isaac held fast.

  ‘Saul, it’s me, Isaac.’

  Isaac noticed the recognition flood into Saul’s eyes as he fought for breath. Isaac looked around nervously.

  ‘Is everything okay? Is someone following you?’

  It was then that Saul realised that Isaac was also a bundle of nerves.

  ‘Only you.’

  Saul quivered to a bench and sat down. Isaac followed and sat beside him. The memory of the Muselmann was fading fast but Saul still had to battle to breathe. Saul concentrated on flushing his system of fear. Each breath creating time and space for his body to recover. Isaac waited and watched until Saul opened his eyes, ready to engage with the world again. Isaac wondered what had scared Saul so much in a place like this? He was watching them with the monkeys when Saul had simply run away but Isaac had not seen any threat. Isaac had to look around too. Just in case.

  ‘I wanted to speak to you,’ glancing around again until he decided it was safe to continue. ‘Don’t you care that Mark was murdered?’

  Saul noticed that Isaac kept glancing at his teeth while they talked. Old habits.

  ‘Because he wasn’t. The papers said-‘

  ‘They’re wrong!’

  ‘And you can…em…p-prove that?’

  Isaac hesitated and then decided to take the gamble.

  ‘I have proof.’

  Saul looked deep into Isaac’s eyes. He wasn’t buying it.

  ‘Rubbish!’ he stood up to leave but Isaac grabbed him once more.

  ‘Don’t talk to me like I’m a crazy old man. Don’t you understand they’re trying to-‘

  ‘Keep your mouth shut’. In the distance Saul had seen Hannah and Aisha approaching them. Isaac followed his gaze.

  ‘Then come and see me.’

  They were almost within earshot. Saul needed to decide fast.

  ‘Monday at twelve, the café at Stuttgarter Platz. Bring your proof.’

  Isaac nodded his agreement.

  ‘Isaac? It’s been so long. How are you?’ said Hannah reaching them at last.

  ‘Very well, Hannah,’ and then looking down at Aisha, ‘and who is this?’

  ‘Our granddaughter, Aisha,’ replied Hannah. ‘Say hello, Aisha.’

  Aisha dived for cover behind Hannah’s legs. Isaac bent down to meet her.

  ‘It’s okay. I can be shy sometimes too.’

  While Isaac was out of sight Hannah shot Saul a flash of anger; Saul, unable to return her gaze looked for inspiration elsewhere.

  Beneath them Isaac reached into his pocket and found a sweet.

  ‘I always carry them for my grandchildren, but I think they won’t mind if I give you one.’

  Aisha nabbed the sweet and Isaac stood, returning to the adult world.

  ‘Who needs mirrors when there are children to tell us how ugly we have become?’

  ‘How’s Edna?’ enquired Hannah.

  ‘Well. She’s been visiting our daughter in Hamburg this week. She’ll be back on Sunday.’

  There was an awkward pause and Isaac having got what he came for made his excuses.

  ‘Well, it was nice to see you again. I better be on my way.’ He turned to Saul and confirmed what they agreed with a look and backed it up with a verbal warning. ‘I’ll see you soon, maybe I’ll drop by the store?’

  ‘That would be nice,’ said Hannah.

  They watched him walk away, after a few steps Isaac removed his heavy wool jacket and swung it over his right shoulder.

  #

  Hannah drove the navy blue Mercedes 420SEL home. Saul and Aisha in the back. The car still smelt new and Saul had been very excited the day it arrived. Like with everything Saul bought, a great deal of research had been done prior to the purchase, not that he was pedantic. He had spent his afternoons reading magazines and visiting dealerships, taking test-drives of all the cars on his short list. If baking was his number one passion and cars were number two then she was number three, Hannah teased. Of course, he replied the way he always did: Like all things in life, it’s about finding the right fit. The routine was familiar by now and she knew what she had to say next to complete the joke, so she said it: If only you researched me so well. Who says I didn’t? He had answered.

  And then he stopped driving it. She did not notice at first but one day she realised she had been doing all the driving of late. He was always too tired or wanted to walk instead. She asked if there was something wrong, but he had been evasive and then settled on: I bought it for you. Bought it for me? What nonsense. It’s too big for me. I’d be happy with a Golf. But there was nothing more; which was saying something for Saul, but it was true. The man of few words was using even fewer these days. She knew it was not another woman. Saul would never do that and besides, he was hardly out of her sight. As for sex, well, they had put down that book some years ago. There was still love of course and affection. Frankly speaking she was glad to be out of the grip of her hormones. No more distractions, no more yearnings. She had been liberated and could now concentrate on what was important at this stage in her life. Nature was truly amazing. She imagined men must go through something similar.

  On occasion she had found him sitting alone in his favourite armchair daydreaming. This was it. She could see they were no ordinary daydreams. He was somewhe
re else. She could see it in his eyes. A daydreamer, in contrast, was still present; engaged with her environment ready to return at a moment’s notice. Saul’s eyes were vacant, but their spirit was still there. Unlike a daydreamer his whole body seemed have joined him in the effort. There was a lonely detachment that emanated from the core of him; and once she had noticed him tighten his fist, his whole arm followed suit and became rigid: He was not just seeing things he was experiencing them too. The immersion was such that even when he came back, for a while part of him was still there. Wherever there was.

  ‘Opa, you know that man we met in the zoo today, he talked to my teeth.’

  ‘He probably wanted to see if you-‘ gone again.

  Come on, come on, not now. You know this! You were about to say. You were about to say…

  ‘If you…em-‘

  ‘Brushed properly?’ she finished.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Of course I can brush my teeth. I’m going to be a schoolgirl soon. Opa?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why did you run away?’

  ‘I had to go to the toilet.’

  ‘You shouldn’t wait so long. Mama says I wait too long too.’

  Hannah gave a big fake laugh in the mirror and changed the subject by asking Aisha what her favourite animals were: the Elephants.

  CHAPTER 5

  As soon as Hannah opened the front door they heard the music. Aisha, who had insisted she was too tired to walk up the stairs, had allowed Saul to carry her. She had formulated the request as “You can carry me if you want to?”

  Saul had taken the hint and ignored the pain this would cause him as he still wanted to be strong in her eyes. Her head snuggled under his chin; her legs swaying as he walked up the steps and her skirt bunched up under his arms until you could almost see her underwear. At the sound of the music her head popped up and she joined them in looking down the hall. This was worth investigation. She made herself too heavy to carry and Saul allowed her to drop to the floor.

 

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