The Wall

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The Wall Page 33

by H. G. Adler


  Rather than explaining anything, my talk confused the Gypsy woman all the more, yet she was no longer anxious or hostile.

  “I say to you, as the all-seeing and faultless famous Gypsy fortune-teller Fortunata, that you exist, and that you can go forth from me without worry and at peace for all time, because nothing will happen to you. You will also exist if you are no longer in my wagon. You will exist for a long time, because you are healthy. You will remain protected, and almost all of your wishes will be fulfilled soon and in the future, most of your worries and the evil past fading away forever. Then you will be happy and forget all the terrible things, because everything will be as good as I say.”

  Fortunata said all this with a singing tone, like someone telling a fairy tale. But she hardly turned her gaze from me, and certainly not toward the crystal ball, so I didn’t put much stock in what she said.

  “Did you see all that in the crystal ball? Aren’t you saying all of it because that’s what you think I want to hear?”

  She lifted the glass up and lightly played with it in order to examine its secret. I felt that I could expect nothing more and stood up. Fortunata followed me.

  “Just one more thing! Then I won’t bother you again. Would you let me look into your crystal ball just once?”

  Fortunata pressed it to herself and covered it up with both hands.

  “There’s no point, sir. You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t see anything. Only I am told the truth.”

  I staggered to the door and was so upset that I didn’t even thank her or say goodbye. I plunged down the steps, without turning to look back at Fortunata, and disappeared into the tumult. I didn’t leave anything with the Gypsy woman. I took myself along with me; even my hand, which hurt a little, remained attached to my arm, but was weaker than usual, and I was also weaker than I had ever been before. Only naked shame careened through the surging mass, garish floodlights and chains of shining lightbulbs blending together. The dark night sky was even blacker, dust and overly sweet charred odors rising toward it, and I didn’t know where the tears that streamed down my cheeks had come from, the cheeks of the excluded and the lonely one driven away from the clang of the horrid music, the empty air of the barren evening, the crowd of distasteful people rushing back and forth, the buzz of their voices of immeasurable misery rattling from them and echoing back unintelligibly in a roiling damp mixture seen through the prism of my tears. Already I had freed myself some from the crush and crossed the street, but then it surrounded me again, only the fair having sunk behind me, the old city there as ever, it existing, while I did not, though because of the anxious gleam of its streetlights I could no longer see it. I pressed ahead, feeling lost, because the streets, with their spotty lighting, took no notice of me and were, what I had not yet realized, occupied only with the trickle of rain that flowed along the sidewalks in dirty rivulets or here and there gathered in murky reflecting puddles.

  So I walked along querulous and anxious, not noticing that we were already at the train station; Anna with her groom Helmut, Peter and the faithful Herr Geschlieder from the museum were with me. They were escorting me and had not allowed me to carry my own suitcase and bags. I must not be burdened at all was what they wished, unburdened by the weight of goodbye, a free man who should have no worries. Such care didn’t feel right to me, because without any luggage in my hand I couldn’t be certain that I was departing; I felt like a lazy onlooker who wasn’t responsible for anything, afraid that at the gate, or later on the platform, I would not be allowed on. A man with no luggage, which is what someone could take me for, shouldn’t be trusted, no matter how eagerly he brandishes his ticket. I would have been happy to discuss the matter quietly, but the continual chain of our stomping feet prevented it; the old city sucked me in and forbade any talk. Nor did I manage to say a word. So I stayed quiet and walked on, though I kept to the side in order not to block anyone’s way. I was not certain of my escort; they could all suddenly disappear, as the crowd was thick, but they didn’t let me out of their sight. Peter, especially, stayed close and laughed at me jokingly as best he could with his wide, distorted mouth. Anna didn’t offer any encouragement and yet was my only hope of a successful escape. Then the crowd began to thicken ahead of us; we had reached the great hall and now stood at a standstill, pressed among many people, hardly able to move.

  “We’ve come too soon. Much too soon.”

  Someone said that; muttered and barely audible, these words must have come from Peter. Then they flowed in heavy waves slowly ahead and hung themselves wearily between the inert hands of the great clock that guarded the entrance to the trains and performed its time-saving duties only in fitful jerks. Helmut insisted that we had at least half an hour before we would be allowed through the gate and remembered that we still had to buy platform tickets. He recommended going to the station restaurant for a cup of coffee and they could get the tickets on the way. I was not willing to take a single step that would draw me away from the trains.

  “I agree that it’s not very pleasant here, but I’m not leaving. Go on, if you want, I’ll wait here.”

  “They’ll announce the trains,” Peter reassured me.

  “That might be. But that’s no good to me. I have to stay here, for I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Come on,” said Peter, “don’t spoil our fun!”

  “You can all go on. It won’t bother me at all. You can stay there or come back, it’s all the same to me. We could even say goodbye now.”

  “Yes, Herr Doctor,” offered Herr Geschlieder, “I’m afraid I have to excuse myself. Your friends are here, and I really have to get home.”

  “Could I buy you a coffee?” asked Peter.

  “Many thanks, but I’m afraid there’s no way. I have to get going. And so, my dear Herr Doctor, be well and don’t forget us! I hope all goes well over there, and safe journey back!”

  “Thank you, Herr Geschlieder, and goodbye! Please pass on my best wishes to Herr Schnabelberger, Frau Dr. Kulka, Herr Woticky, and everyone at the museum. And to your dear wife as well! Thank you so much for accompanying me and for having been so nice to me!”

  Herr Geschlieder reached out and squeezed my hand so hard that I almost cried out, and then weaved his way through the crowd, tipping his hat several times as he did until I lost sight of the hat and of him. Peter was angry that I had driven him away and insisted again that all of us, myself included, should go for a coffee before it was too late. This stubbornness made me mad, but Anna saved me the need to respond.

  “It’s not really that important. If Arthur doesn’t want to, we can also wait here awhile without coffee.”

  Peter looked at me half disdainfully and half sympathetically, but left me in peace.

  “Everyone in the museum thinks that you’ll be back! Why didn’t you tell them the truth, even right up to the end?”

  “I couldn’t. Perhaps they would not have let me go. Frau Dr. Kulka was against the journey right up until the last minute and could not understand what I expected to gain from being abroad. You stay in your country and earn an honest living, that’s her view. Whoever wants to leave these days is certainly a coward and also a terrible patriot. My fears for the future here and for myself she found ridiculous. Nor could she see any way that my being abroad and reporting back could be of any use to the museum. In her opinion, that can all be done on paper. It would be better to have visitors come from abroad. That would be better press for us than to have our people visiting other countries. She didn’t trust me. She even resented the couple of photos that Schnabelberger gave me. She never liked me. What I had worked on was never right to her. Everything that I had done I had done diligently, but to her it was all highly superfluous shenanigans. To save artworks, protect them, describe them beautifully, and install them tastefully—that was all that was possible, according to her. But to be a human witness to the past and to sacrifice oneself for the most recent tragedy, that was a secondary task best left to the archivists and
the historians. A museum must serve the living, not the dead—that was her mantra, and she was right about that. She just thought of it in a different way than I did. In any case, she had watched the preparations for my journey with suspicion and nearly blocked the necessary recommendation from the museum to the consulate for a visa. ‘I know you only want to rush it all through,’ she said. ‘But I am warning you, either let me in on your plans or I will get involved, and that will be the end of it all.’ So I had to pretend, though no doubt most everyone in the museum knew what I was up to. Herr Schnabelberger openly supported my plans. Whether or not he did so completely selflessly I have my doubts, but he nonetheless was happy to be rid of me. I didn’t resent him, though, because I owed him a lot.”

  I had begun to babble and could have kept going if I hadn’t been afraid that someone could overhear me. Then my plans could quickly have been thwarted. Secret emigration was frowned upon. I quietly closed my mouth and lowered my gaze, my cheeks glowing. Helmut had pressed his way through the crowd and returned with platform tickets, which he handed out.

  “Is there one for me?” I asked meekly.

  “How so?”

  “I’m also accompanying me, and you only brought three.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “What do you mean, kidding? I want to accompany me. Is that so strange?”

  Anna nudged Helmut in order to prevent him from answering. Then she spoke quietly to me, such that no one else could hear.

  “We’ve done everything we can to make sure that you don’t remain stuck here. There’s not much time. Don’t worry! Another ten or fifteen minutes and they will let us through. Then you go on ahead, with nothing to be afraid of. Show the man your ticket; he won’t have to examine it any further but only punch it, and not even look at you. It will be easy. Then you’ll already be at the train. We’ll find the right car. You already have the ticket for your seat; it’s in the top right pocket of your vest. Don’t be so nervous! Promise me that! Promise yourself as well! Then you’ll sit in your seat. We’ll take care of your luggage in order to make sure it’s nicely stowed. We’ll wait on the platform until the train leaves. We’ll wave to you and wish you luck. Then you’ll travel on, traveling, traveling on into life, into the future. Soon tomorrow will be here. Yesterday is past; even today will be behind you! You can do it. Stay calm when you get to the border. Nothing will happen to you there, either. Your passport is real, all the visas are good. You just show the passport and everything that they want, but everything will be fine, for it’s all in order. There everyone will be friendly toward you. Then the train will travel on and you will be beyond the border. Then you can celebrate, the last worries falling away. You are free. Then you will feel tired, completely tired, but happy. You will have to sleep in order that, when you arrive, you are wide awake.”

  Anna said all this and more to appease me. I was grateful to her and loved her at this moment, which made me anxious about leaving her, for she had been so good to me. The first night after my return came back to me, the days in the mountains just a few months ago. But I also knew that I had done the right thing in not appealing to Anna and not allowing her into my unease, which she protected but couldn’t fight off. I was happy that in Helmut she would have a loving husband, which is what she needed—someone strong and simple, always there and never to be doubted, someone who didn’t just chase after his dreams but steadily moved toward them. Anna needed a resting place, not my abyss and my unresolvable past. In addition, Hermann’s and Franziska’s shadows stood between us and the dark fate of the native city that she would have to bear without me, but which would not have allowed us to be together freely in the world.

  “It will soon all work out for you, Anna, for you and Helmut. It’s good to know that there are steadfast souls and not just the lost.”

  “You are not lost, my dear. You will soon come to see that.”

  Often, Anna had spoken to me comfortingly and tenderly, but never had her voice shown such affection for me. Was I letting go of the only person who, though she hardly understood me, nonetheless knew nearly everything of my plight? There would likely be a warning about the need to leave the platform, one that signified a last, irrecoverable moment. I didn’t have to travel on into the uncertain future yet; I could still risk saying to Anna that I was better for her than the handsome jolly Helmut, who good-naturedly stood smiling next to us and in his heart was probably glad that I was clearing off. I was envious. Helmut was healthy, his eyes hardly having been touched by suffering. But I trembled, my eyes had no strength, everything around me grew blurry, aswim in a drizzling mist. Was Anna still next to me? I didn’t trust myself to glance at her in order to conceal my disappointment that she was already with Helmut and probably leaning on his shoulder. Between Anna and me there was a wall, only razor-thin, even transparent, yet impenetrable and final. I had lost Anna because I was stupid and cowardly. What good was it that I could still hear her voice so close by?

  “Everything will be okay. Don’t worry. The two of us are good friends, but we don’t belong together. You must know that.”

  I murmured thank you to Anna and felt ashamed.

  “Peter, at last you’ll be rid of me.”

  “In a little while, unless there’s a delay.”

  “But soon, even with a delay. Such a heap of nothing must at last be off.… What a weight will be lifted from you! Or will you be sorry?”

  “I know how to take care of myself.”

  “I hope so. It will also be nice to have the room to yourself. You will have to clean up after me a good deal, I’m afraid! Nothing, and yet I leave so much behind.”

  “But that’s good. That way, I will laugh and cry at the same time that you are gone and have finally left me in peace.”

  Anna turned to Helmut and played with his right hand. This pleased him, but when he noticed that I was watching he stepped away. He was a simpleton.

  “She’s a beauty, your Anna!” I said rudely and almost too loud.

  “I agree!” he said proudly in return.

  He wanted to add something, but Anna put a finger to her lips in order to silence him.

  A railway man lifted a departure sign high and shoved it into the display board; the express train to beyond the border was arriving as they called out its name. I burrowed in my coat pocket and pulled out my ticket and wanted to grab my two suitcases, but my friends wouldn’t allow this. Peter was faster than me and already held the suitcases, although there was still plenty of time, for the passengers were only slowly beginning to gather for the rush. Nor was I able to grab hold of my little suitcase and my bag, Anna and Helmut having got to them before me.

  “Both suitcases—I can’t have that, Peter! You must give me one!”

  He just laughed. At that moment, I felt him capable only of scorn and bad will.

  “You must, you must!” I begged, but in vain.

  “You will have enough to schlep, dear Arthur. For now, you must allow me the pleasure.”

  I could have asked Anna or Helmut to hand over the goods they carried, but I didn’t want to upset them; if Peter carried my things, they had to do the same. Now, haltingly, we moved along with the thick stream of people. I looked up at the clock; the minute hand quivered and jumped with a jerk to the next minute. Not a patient clock, for it stutters, I thought. My escort moved on ahead of me. That was fine with me, as I didn’t want them behind me, and it would have been awkward otherwise, though there was no clear reason why I should be bringing up the rear. I should have been in the middle. Peter took the front spot, which I thought good; his carefree frivolity didn’t restrain him, making him the best suited for the situation. Deftly he wound his way toward the gate and was already through without even glancing at the ticket puncher. Anna scurried along and laughed at the railway man, as if owing him endless thanks for the enormity of his good will. Meanwhile, Helmut followed along like an innocent child.

  Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable in being the last; it wou
ld have been better to have someone behind me, because now I was afraid to lose sight of my friends and to have to hold on to my ticket book longer than I wished to. But I couldn’t get ahead of Helmut without falling painfully; I’d have to tug at his sleeve or even shove him. I couldn’t do that, so I had to patiently remain in the rear. Helmut had already slipped through the gate without a problem. Now I only needed to take another step in order to present myself to the ticket puncher, who was already eyeing me seriously and coolly as the next one in line, but I felt it almost impossible to move. I wanted to peek again at the clock in the hall, my gaze shooting almost straight up, but was no longer able to see the clock face. Still, I hesitated, there being the tiniest bit of time allowed me to have a last moment in this city. The dark sense of the word “destination” suddenly came to me. Beyond the gate was the train station, but no other destination, no longer the city. Though I was leaving it of my own free will and wanted nothing else but to do so—this was the moment that I had sought since the day I returned, and for which I had longed with hardly any anxieties holding me back—I was nevertheless anxious, feeling abject and cast off, because, with the goal having been reached, I was also expelled and without a destination, no longer having rights to a burial in my native city, not even of any kind of remembrance, everything having slipped away: childhood, my parents’ house, happiness, and plenty of unhappiness. Yet no, the unhappiness is there, but now it will be different. It will transform itself into the pursuing tumult, an unhappiness that will plunge forward behind me through the gate, it already weighing upon me and holding me by the neck; I wanted to shake it off, but it wasn’t a piece of baggage that could just be taken from me. That’s why it was a blessed stroke of good fortune when my friends took charge of my things, as I still had my hands free and could let them to sway back and forth, not having to suffer checking the clock, time indeed not being recorded anywhere as it frittered away somewhere far off in the lonely, twisted corners of this city. By then, I needed to stretch my gaze in order to detect those hiding spots.

 

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