by H. G. Adler
The time during which I waited went too quickly, for already Oswald was leading his companions toward me. There was Inge, stolid and much fatter than I recalled. A corner of her mouth was turned down inadvertently or mockingly, something that I had never seen in her before. And then came So-and-So, with his swinging arms and fidgety legs, much more nervous than before the war. My friend seemed older, dour or unhappy, his hair now thin, his skin slack and with deep wrinkles that were more pronounced around the mouth than around the temples and forehead. He had not brought along Karin, while there was a third person I recognized, whom I had long forgotten—namely, Otto Schallinger, a classmate of mine in middle school, with whom I had lost almost total contact before the war. Hadn’t he become a pharmacist? I thought I recalled that he had moved from this profession to work as a chemist. I had never been close to Otto; in his character there was something of the lasting loyalty of old tailors, an always pleasant, though to me somewhat boring, companion whom I never quite knew what to make of. That he had been asked to welcome me here in the metropolis, where I never expected him, was a complete surprise that I obviously couldn’t take the time to mull over amid everything that was coming at me and making me feel yet more defenseless. My friends also had another strange man in their midst who blithely accompanied them and looked at me keenly. Was this perhaps one of the important connections that So-and-So wanted to bestow upon me? Already, from afar I could see how all of them devoured me with their gazes, sucking me up, myself complying almost unconsciously, which seemed the best thing to do.
I jumped up from the suitcase and took heart in order to greet the group in a manner as dignified and unforced as possible. All of them walked along at almost the same pace, a strange sad march, their gazes never shifting from me and seizing hold of me such that I had to make an effort to endure such an onslaught and not look at the ground as if being punished. No doubt it had to be a surprise to see someone whom you thought was dead suddenly appear, not trusting your own eyes or knowing if perhaps you were wrong. I would have been glad to take a step toward the group in order show them: It’s me, come closer, and don’t be afraid. But I let things be. I also felt that it wasn’t up to me to say the first word, and so I only felt compelled to laugh at the little band, whose strange hurry was remarkably slow and approached me like a moving wall. Then Otto the pharmacist jumped out from the group, a camera around his neck that bounced along pleasantly in its leather case on his stomach. “There you are, you old fellow!” he called out with sincere joy, stretching his right hand out to me, whereby our thumbs quickly folded over each other’s. But he held my hand for only a few seconds and then drew back. I didn’t know what was going on, as Otto waved to the others not to come any closer to me, at which, like a street photographer who suddenly snaps your picture and offers you a card that says, “You’ve had your picture taken!,” he readied his camera, lifted it high, pointed it at me, and snapped.
“We have a picture!” he yelled. “It’s a triumph! A real event!”
“Hopefully, you’re not a press photographer,” I replied timidly.
“No, no, what do you think I am!” Otto reassured me, and then he snapped another photo.
Then, for the first time, the others could approach. One after another shook my hand, also the stranger, who introduced himself as Dr. Jolan Haarburger from Budapest, even Oswald shaking my hand as well, since he had failed to do so earlier. The last was Fräulein Bergmann, who, if I’m not mistaken, had to be prodded by her brother. Only a few words were exchanged, more abrupt calls of sharp surprise than anything specific. I didn’t have anything to say in return and kept quiet until the others had nothing more to say but instead stood around me in a half circle and stared at me. I lit another of Oswald’s cigarettes. Then I wanted to give him back the pack, but he wouldn’t take it. As I held it out to him, he took hold of my hand and the pack and guided them into my coat pocket, and I had to just go along. Then I turned back and forth inside the half circle; I was curious what would happen next, but no matter what I did, nothing happened, only this half-astounded, half-shameless gazing at me kept going on, to which I responded by blowing smoke into their eyes, not even sparing Dr. Haarburger. At last he was the one to say how pleased he was to have met me. He thought it wonderful that I was now here, for I would no doubt be pleased. “The city of cities!” he whispered almost secretively, and winked as he said it. Then he pulled out his card and hoped that I would soon make use of his telephone number, for he and his wife would be especially pleased if sometime in the next few days I would contact them and pay them the honor of arranging a visit to them. I thanked him with a deep bow and promised that I would call soon. Then Dr. Haarburger explained that he didn’t want to take me away from my friends any longer—he had bothered me enough already and had to be going.
“It was truly a pleasure. It’s a wonder that you made it here, looking as good as ever after all that you’ve been through, and not even worn out by the journey. We are all here to help you. Think of me as a brother.”
I was embarrassed and shrugged. So-and-So turned away, Oswald stroked his forehead, Otto grinned as Inge cleared her throat. None of it seemed to affect Dr. Haarburger.
“I literally stole away a bit of time from my day because I simply had to see you. I’m especially indebted to Dr. Kauders for having told me so much about you and letting me know what time you were arriving. So let me, in the name of all of my friends, say how happy we are to have you here among us. We need you. It’s a difficult country, but, for you, certainly promising, very promising.”
Dr. Haarburger underscored the last phrase emphatically, Oswald agreed with him approvingly, So-and-So smiled enigmatically, and I bowed once again. The friendly man was in a hurry to get away, but he hadn’t reckoned with Otto.
“Just a moment, Herr Doctor. We need to get a photo of this! The whole group, please!”
As Haarburger hesitated and the others remained standing where they were, Otto said resolutely that we needed to draw closer. Otto took at least eight shots. Inge didn’t like it, becoming ever more nervous and longing for it to end.
“That’s enough now, Herr Schallinger!”
Inge gave the photographer a nasty look, such that he lowered his weapon dejectedly.
Sadly he played with his camera, but didn’t put it away in its case, and when Dr. Haarburger was finally gone Otto turned mercilessly toward me and shoved me a bit to the side of the group.
“I need some more of you! I was stupid and only took two shots of you at the beginning!”
Then he took a number of shots until he had used up the roll. Only then did he seem satisfied, but not entirely, for he then took out the roll and put in a new one. I’d had enough of this, and the others came to my rescue.
“Now, let the beast give poor Landau a bit of rest!” said Inge. “Otherwise he will get a big head. Isn’t that true, Landau—aren’t you as conceited as ever? It’s no wonder, given what you’ve survived!”
I couldn’t believe my ears, but it was just as embarrassing for the others, especially Oswald, who didn’t want to see either me or Otto upset.
“Inge is so high-spirited. Inge, you shouldn’t talk so! Inge loves to joke, and, of course, she doesn’t mean anything by it.”
Otto only found it all a bit odd and wasn’t upset, nor was I. He seemed satisfied with his yield of photos, while to me it was all the same. I only wanted to leave the cloakroom and the station, but, unfortunately, my friends did nothing to get me out of there. Had they come to no decision? They stood there as morose as before, awkwardly moving their arms and hands and looking at me almost ravenously. What did they expect of me? It was up to them to do something; they couldn’t turn over to me what was supposed to happen in the next minutes and hours. They murmured something, but didn’t seem to agree on anything, as I had hoped, because they went quiet again and kept shifting their weight back and forth on their legs as if they had worked out a pantomime with which to welcome me. I tried to encourage them by sm
iling, but they couldn’t free themselves from their torpid demeanor. Perhaps my attempt failed because I had not smiled enough in a natural way. They had become more serious and confused, only Inge seeming somewhat less timid and looking on more derisively, but it was also possible that this was only because of her own uncertainty. Therefore I resigned myself to break up their torpor with more smiles and looked sideways over at my luggage, which sat pitifully on the floor. Perhaps it would be better for them to grab hold of it and at least help me with that. But all of these attempts came to nothing.
“Now tell me, how are you all?”
“We’re fine, thank you!” Oswald assured me. “Of course good, very good!”
“Yes, I’m doing well!” Otto also announced. “I’ve completely settled in here. I have a little pharmaceutical lab that produces a couple of special concoctions of my own, while I also analyze blood and urine samples, whatever comes along. Stool and sputum samples, should you need something. I do it gratis for old friends, cosmetics as well, though there’s too much competition in that, but I have a modest apartment with a native wife who is called Sylvia. We are happily married and have a child, who is called Sidney Keith. Sylvia passes on her regrets that she didn’t come along. She doesn’t speak any German, though she understands a bit and is a good cook, because she comes from the north. They cook better there than in the south. You will have to meet her, for she will be wildly pleased. She is musical and gives a few piano lessons. Otherwise she helps me a bit in the lab when Sidney is in kindergarten. I bet you’re still as musical as you used to be in school. Do you remember? You both have something in common.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, feeling quite happy that I could carry on a conversation, no matter how little Otto’s family history interested me. “And all of you are friends?”
“Not really! I just met Mr. Birch and Miss Bergmann here today for the first time. It was just a lucky coincidence that I had heard something about your arrival and could be here. Just imagine, only a couple of days ago I met So-and-So on the street, and he told me you were coming. What a surprise! I didn’t know anything more about you. It’s been such a long time. Someone claimed that you had emigrated to Peru or Brazil. I don’t even know who it was, nor did I believe it, for someone also said, more authoritatively, that you had remained behind, and therefore I couldn’t help but think that you were dead. My God, how many are dead! My brother, for one, and his wife and two little children. I believe you knew him. He was two classes behind us at the gymnasium. Do you remember? And many in my family are dead.”
“Herr Schallinger is right!” Inge said with intense anger. “Dead, dead, dead—there’s no end to it, so much that I prefer not to ask after anyone I knew. And there are too many who are still alive, all of them having no right to be!”
“Inge, you can’t say that! No one has the right to wish anyone dead!”
“Really? And the murderers? Perverse. Oswald, you are perverse!”
“Let it go, Inge! You know my views. You must know, Arthur, that I’ve considered this subject. You can judge the murderer, but you must not wish him dead. He is a human being, certainly a horrid human being, but his life is also sacred, unique, and irreplaceable!”
“Nothing but the disengaged morals of an archaeologist!”
“Inge, now stop!”
“You and your squeamishness!” she said, dismissing her brother. “You have your sympathy for them, fine, but also with the murderers. Mine is for those murdered, only with the murdered, and even then not with all of them. You should just know, Landau, three of our aunts were killed—my and Oswald’s aunts! I loved one of them as if she were my own mother, and I loved my mother very much, that you can believe. But this aunt did everything for us, and really helped to raise us.”
Oswald was uncomfortable with Inge’s outburst.
“Why do you have to say the same thing to everyone? It’s not at all interesting, especially for Arthur. He’s experienced enough horrible things already.”
“Experienced, experienced—that’s a big difference. He experienced what he did, but our aunts and all the dead experienced much more, for they’re all dead. So he should be happy that he experienced only what he did. He’s lucky to be in the world and to be able to laugh about it.”
“Inge, enough already! That’s so offensive! You’ll have to forgive her, Arthur! Inge is sometimes so harsh. It’s her nerves, which really are bad. In actuality, she doesn’t mean it so.”
“I do indeed mean what I say. He should just know it.”
“Now cease this instant, Inge, or I’m leaving!”
Inge shook with laughter. Her brother looked at her angrily and then said something to her quietly, such that she finally reined in her extravagantly hysterical behavior and appeared a bit more measured. So-and-So, who until now had hardly said a word, smiled with annoyance at the controversy between the Bergmann siblings and turned to me.
“Did you see Dr. Blecha? Will something finally come of it?”
“He is a crook, and the government is even worse.”
“But my parents’ assets must be restored. The state can’t simply gobble them up!”
“The state can do anything it wants, and Blecha can do nothing but accept his honorarium.”
“Unbelievable! Am I entitled to nothing?”
“The question is too hard for me to answer.”
“What.… Well, let’s talk about something else. You look amazingly well, Arthur.”
“You, too!” I replied.
“Sharp as ever. The years haven’t changed you at all.”
“That’s much too flattering.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t flatter anyone. I just didn’t expect it. But, to switch topics yet again, you can’t stay with us. Karin is sorry.”
“Really? I had been so looking forward to it!”
“Me as well. But it just won’t work. You can come over often. We have all pitched in—Birch, myself, Haarburger, and a few others—and have arranged for a nice room in a cheap guesthouse. We’ve already paid for fourteen days—”
“Yes, but the expense?”
“No worries. That’s all taken care of.”
“I mean, how will I pay you back?”
“It’s all taken care of. I told you, we all pitched in together.”
“Many thanks!”
“You don’t have to thank us. It’s the obvious thing to do. But you can’t move in right away. The room is still occupied.”
“That’s too bad.”
“For sure. But it doesn’t matter. You can move in the day after tomorrow. Maybe even tomorrow. We’ll check by calling them.”
“And in the meantime?”
“You’re not letting me finish. Everything has been taken care of. You can stay with Birch.”
“As well as with Inge?”
“No, not with Fräulein Bergmann. Just with Birch.”
“Naturally, Arthur, only if it’s all right with you. It would be my pleasure.”
“If it’s not a bother.”
“No, no, no bother at all. Naturally, but really, when it’s all right with you, Arthur. Otherwise, you could stay in the hotel. A room is already reserved. But it would be a real delight if you’d like to stay with me, for we could talk a great deal.”
“I’d be delighted if it’s not too much of a burden for you for one or two nights.”
“Of course, you’re welcome. Otherwise I wouldn’t have said anything. Three nights, a week—you can stay as long as you wish.”
“Shall I accept the offer, Fräulein Bergmann?”
“When my brother invites someone, then he must be fond of him, which is a distinction one must accept. It’s a great honor for you, a great honor. That’s what I say. For days Oswald has almost lost his head over you. Nothing but Landau. He’s totally smitten.”
“Inge, please!”
“Well, it’s only true!”
“I’m very touched, Oswald. I’m so pleased.”
“Not another word about it. But I have to to tell you, my place is extremely modest.”
“It’s lovely at Birch’s!” said So-and-So emphatically. “You could not possibly feel better or more comfortable.”
“Don’t believe a word Kauders says,” warned Inge. “But in this case he’s actually telling the truth.”
Thus I at last knew my next destination. Now what I really wanted more than anything was to leave the station. That’s what I wanted to ask to do next, but then Otto suddenly seized control of the conversation with another offer.
“I’m thinking you could also stay a couple of nights with me. I just have to ask Sylvia, but I know she’ll agree. I have a little room, which is really a bit small, for I use it mostly as a darkroom, but I can set up a chaise longue for you there. Many others have slept there already. I think that it even might be best for you, amid all this hustle and bustle, to stay with an old classmate, where you can almost feel at home while you get used to things. I can tell you everything about the city, what you need, and so on.”
This suggestion was not to my taste. I looked searchingly at Oswald.
“Naturally,” he said, “only what feels right to you. It will, however, mess up all the plans I’ve put in place.”
“Just let Landau decide,” interrupted Inge. “He’s old enough to decide for himself. One shouldn’t speak for him.”
“No one is speaking for him,” said So-and-So angrily. “The darkroom, Herr Schallinger, is a lousy idea. Nowhere can he be as comfortable as at Birch’s. It’s close by, and it means a lot to Arthur. That’s been the plan all along. Now, enough!”
Thus I was saved from having to make a choice and didn’t need to turn down Otto’s intrusive offer. But now I had really had enough of the station and was growing impatient.
“Can we finally go?”
“That’s not up to me,” explained So-and-So.
“Me, neither!” I responded indignantly. “That’s up to you, and you all finally need to decide. I cannot and don’t want to decide anything, and I’m happy to leave it to you all, but I’m begging you to come to a decision quickly! Get me out of here before I collapse!”