You’ll be talking differently by the end of the first shift, Judith thought to herself and tried to keep a straight face.
She got out. Behind her back, she heard him do the same. He followed her like a puppy. He would probably turn on his heels as soon as he registered what he had got himself into, so she might just as well treat him with consideration in advance.
By the main entrance to the building the penetrating smell of urine reached their noses – an unmistakable sign that the night crawlers had taken over this part of the metropolis and marked their territory here. The door was 1950s hideous with an aluminium frame and security glass with multiple fractures. It was opened from the inside. An employee from the funeral home stepped out and locked the doors. He nodded briefly to Judith.
‘Man, oh man.’ He reached into his jacket pocket and extended a small metal tin. The gesture was a silent summary of what awaited her upstairs.
‘Thanks.’
Judith rubbed the menthol cream under her nose. Then she passed the tin to Kai, who sniffed at it and gave it back. He hadn’t graduated from school; the employment agency had told him this internship was his last chance. He had showed up at eight thirty instead of seven, mumbling some vague excuse about a broken alarm. The fact that he was still along for the ride was only because the doctor they were due to meet there had had an emergency and Judith had been forced to wait. And because Judith might be the only one at Dombrowski Facility Management who knew how alarms worked. She had four. Distributed throughout the apartment at strategic points, all hard to reach, and programmed to ring one minute apart. The last one was in the bath.
‘Take it.’ Judith offered him the tin again.
But Kai either didn’t get it or considered menthol cream kid’s stuff. His choice. Judith returned the tin to the mortuary assistant. He gave her a brief nod and lit himself a cigarette while casting a glance at the summer sky, which was just freeing itself from the hazy morning.
‘Six weeks under the eaves, in this weather. We’re just happy we managed to get her into the box in one piece.’
They knew each other. Not well enough to know the other’s name. But in the way that at some point you get to know everyone who works in this strange profession: the administration of death. Everyone has their place. The doctor, who issues the death certificate. The undertaker, who picks up and arranges the corpse. The cleaner, who makes the house inhabitable again. They had a utilitarian mode of communication, eschewing all the fake half tones of lamentation and concentrating on the essentials: the job.
Kai turned even paler than he already was. The nice caseworker at the agency apparently hadn’t prepared him for this. Facility cleaning. Scouring. Anyone can do it. Go there and take a look. And then this, right on the first day. Scuffling steps approached. The doctor, recognisable by his assiduous haste and a bulky leather bag, came down the stairs. He was followed by two rapid-response police officers.
‘We’re finished up there.’ Like so many members of his guild, he referred to himself in the plural. ‘Natural cause of death, passed away peacefully. My God.’
Two semi-trailers rumbled by. The physician stepped onto the wide footpath and inhaled a lungful of the ammonia and diesel mix. Then he shook his head and rushed to his car. The two officers followed him. The mortician was smoking.
‘Then let’s go.’ Judith made the motion with her head that people use to command dogs into the house when it’s raining. Kai trudged behind her.
They climbed the stairs. There were buggies in the hallway, shoes and clutter. Every storey got them further away from the street noise and closer to forgetting. Judith smelled the sweet hint of death in spite of the menthol. Six weeks, the man had said. And the only thing the neighbours had finally noticed was the stench.
Kai panted.
‘What smells so bad?’ he asked, but he had already guessed the answer.
Judith didn’t intend to go easy on him. Whoever came along with her had to be ready to push their limits further than they wanted to. The public health department had called Dombrowski Facility Management. And Dombrowski had sent Judith. And Judith wasn’t one to wrap rookies in cotton wool.
‘This way.’
A narrow hallway with a threadbare runner, old wallpaper, winter coats in the wardrobe despite it being the height of summer. The first impression was that of poverty and meanness. This had dominated the life of Gerlinde Wachsmuth.
And the solitude, Judith thought as she entered the bedroom. There was a simple wooden cross hanging over the narrow bed. The second assistant mortician was just closing the zinc casket and was doing so with special care. Even the staircase was cramped; they would have to transport the corpse upright at some spots. His colleague returned from his cigarette break. The two stood next to the casket, folding their hands and murmuring a quiet prayer.
Judith asked herself if they also did that when there were no witnesses nearby. She was just about to give Kai a sign that, in keeping with the situation, he should also conduct himself reverently when she noticed the expression on his face. He stared past her, looking at the bed. His lower lip began to tremble. He swallowed frantically, his Adam’s apple bouncing up and down his strong throat like a rubber ball. He clapped his hand in front of his mouth and lurched out of the room.
‘His first time?’
The two had finished their prayer. Judith nodded. She looked at her watch and hoped Kai would vomit quickly. They had already lost a lot of time. But the sounds that emanated from the bathroom sounded more like an extended coughing fit. He was more likely avoiding work rather than having a true emergency. She would have liked to send the boy straight home. The wheat separated from the chaff at the bathroom door.
‘I’m going to start,’ she called. ‘It’ll all be subtracted from your lunch break.’
An argument that often worked wonders with people like Kai. Maybe someone should have advised him not to eat anything before this assignment.
First she examined the bed and the state of the mattress. It was positioned with the headboard against the middle of the wall. Pillows and covers were on the floor to the left, the casket was to the right. The only thing left of Gerlinde Wachsmuth was the impression of her body on the sheet. She must have been a small person, who lay down to sleep and didn’t get back up. A silent death. A peaceful, expected departure. A quiet exit. Judith felt the peace and the absence of fear. Sometimes death was the only friend who wouldn’t forget you.
And then Gerlinde Wachsmuth’s corpse had had six weeks to dissolve during high summer in a poorly insulated apartment on the fifth floor. The silhouette of her body was a soft yellow, where her arms, legs and head had lain. But the shade darkened towards the middle of the body, almost reaching a dark violet, nearly black colouration. White dots were moving in the middle of the dark hollow.
Judith didn’t have to look under the bed to know that fluid had collected underneath, contaminating the air. Although the assistant mortician had opened the window and the menthol cream burned on her upper lip, this smell burned its way into her pores like a sandblaster.
The two men lifted the casket and carried it out of the apartment as carefully as possible. Judith waited until she heard the toilet flush.
‘Everything OK?’ she called down the hallway.
The door opened. Kai emerged, staring at her with the I want to go home look everyone had the first time they saw behind the pleasant façade of how everything meets its end.
‘I need safety goggles, a full-body suit. Disinfectants and cleaners. Cling film. A spray can, formaldehyde steamer, thermal and cold-process foggers. The locked poison box – larvicide, acaricide, phosphine and hydrocyanic acid. And of course the boxes with the scouring powder, hard soap, brushes and scrubbers. Understand?’
Kai shook his head.
‘It’s all in the back of the van.’
Instead of answering, he stumbled back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Judith counted down from ten and waited. T
he gagging receded. Of course she could have gone down herself. But she didn’t want to.
‘Are we almost ready now?’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’ll give you exactly one minute. Then I’m calling Dombrowski and telling him he should pull you.’
She could hear the toilet flushing, shortly followed by the sound of a tap splashing. When Kai opened the door for the second time, she turned around, expecting his departure.
‘Got something for my nose?’ he asked.
‘Respirator mask.’
‘Two, if possible.’
Judith grinned and pulled two out of her trouser pocket.
‘There we are. Never go without.’
Judith bent down in front of the bed. Like Kai, she wore paper overalls, and rubber gloves reaching her elbows. She motioned to the spot that had spread out on the carpet.
‘Chlorine and oxygen. But you still never get rid of the stench. The carpet has to go. If you’re lucky there’s a wood floor underneath that can be sanded.’
She stood up. Kai was still staring at the white dots in the middle of the mattress. They had stopped moving after Judith had sprayed them with larvicide. She removed her respiratory mask.
‘Maggots. Seen with a little love, they’re just another of God’s creatures. At least they were. Cling film?’
‘Wait . . . just a sec.’
Kai trudged into the hall and came back with the heavy roll. Luckily enough, Gerlinde Wachsmuth had passed away on a single bed. The mattress wasn’t heavy. But the noise caused by some of the maggots falling onto the plastic they had spread out was causing Kai problems. It was like a handful of raisins.
‘Is it always so disgusting?’
‘No,’ she lied. ‘Usually you just have to strip the beds and clean up thoroughly.’
This was relatively harmless. Cleaners were regularly confronted with much worse. He was probably still here so he could tell his friends about this freak show, and how he was allowed to dart across the screen once as an extra. Wow, maggots. Corpses. Undertakers. Call me a hero. Judith removed the carpet knife from the toolbox and cut the rest of the plastic to length.
‘Man, what kind of job is this? Why do you do it?’
She thought for a second. Given the lack of young people entering the profession, telling the truth probably wasn’t advisable.
‘Because I can. And lots of others can’t.’
She cut off the last piece of plastic, retracted the blade and went towards the wide-open window. The midday sun had spread over the city like a bell jar. You could see the autobahn from here. She admired the symmetrical semicircles of the on and off ramps, over which the avalanches of metal rolled. The best view was from the TV tower. Sometimes Judith treated herself to a trip to the observation platform. Then she stared down at the city from above and was overcome by its restless beauty. She thought about how she wanted to drive out to the Lusatia region with a telescope tonight, searching for the ultimate dark spot, the place with the lowest levels of light pollution. She wanted to finally see a really starry sky again. August. The weeks of the Perseids, the meteor showers, granting the eternally hopeful human race a multitude of promises in the form of shooting stars.
She unzipped her overalls and removed a small pack of tobacco where she always kept a few cigarettes she had rolled beforehand. She offered Kai one of the crooked sticks.
‘How did you know you could?’ he asked. ‘Did you do a suitability test at the job centre?’
He gave her a light. She leaned forward and saw his hands, which he held up, protecting the flame. They were young hands, with narrow fingers and big knuckles. Ten years more, and they would be the hands of a man. She inhaled the smoke and blew it past him, towards the window. He would understand in ten years, at the earliest.
‘There are jobs you don’t apply for. They come to you.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Maybe you don’t get it yet. This here is a chance.’
Kai rested his forearm on the windowsill and looked like he wanted to give himself a little more time to think about it. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and the only sounds came from the traffic noise down below and the quiet rustling of their overalls. They smoked, and Judith blinked at the bright daylight and counted down the years separating them. She arrived at eleven. He was too young for everything that could cross your mind on a day like this, when the sweltering heat brought the blood in your veins to a boil and you suddenly thought about shooting stars in a dead person’s apartment. She stubbed out her cigarette on the outer windowsill, donned her mask, which didn’t make any noticeable difference, and went back into the room. Five minutes of fresh air had been enough to forget the stench of hell. It hit her like a sucker punch.
‘And the deceased?’ He wouldn’t let it go. ‘How do you deal with the dead?’
‘We don’t have a close personal relationship, if that’s what you mean.’
Of course he didn’t mean that. She sounded as callous as one of the doctors from those American tele-vision series that ran around the clock on cable. But it simply came down to the fact that for her, humans remained human, even after dying. They were given one last show of respect.
They walked up to the bed from either side. Kai bent over and lifted the mattress on one side, she from the other.
‘I’ve never seen a corpse.’
‘Won’t be too long.’
‘Maybe you should have become a cop, if you like dead people so much.’
The mattress fell to the ground. ‘The door’s over there,’ she said.
Kai’s eyes widened, staring at her in disbelief.
‘I’m serious. You can go.’ She reached for the roll with the tape, which she had put on the nightstand. ‘I don’t want to work with people like you.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Just what I say.’
Kai cast an indecisive glance toward the hallway, the path to freedom, and an easy afternoon at the beach bar.
‘And what will you tell the boss?’
She ripped off half a metre of tape, cutting it with her teeth because she didn’t want to ask Kai for the carpet knife.
‘That you’re a fucking idiot.’
‘What do you mean?’
Judith wasn’t the slightest bit inclined to explain that to him as well. She folded the plastic sheet over the mattress, but the tape got tangled. Kai squatted down next to her and had the sheet under control with two quick steps.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Won’t happen again.’
She furiously ripped off another piece of tape, extending it towards him. He cut it in the middle. They worked together in silence the next couple of minutes.
Judith started to sweat. Even if it was from a single bed, sealing the mattress was not an easy task in this weather. The overalls were like a sauna, and the mask didn’t exactly help you breathe.
‘I actually meant – you’re a woman . . .’
‘What does that have to do with anything?’
‘What do you tell guys when they ask you what you do?’
‘Depends if I want to get rid of them or not.’
She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was smiling. He was probably hoping it wasn’t so bad after all.
She turned the mattress so Kai could make a clean rotation with the tape. The tape ripped, the sheet slipped out of her hands, and the mattress went straight over the nightstand, knocking off everything that had been on top. Glass shattered. Judith stifled a curse. There was a commandment that couldn’t be broken: leave an apartment clean but undamaged. Kai bent over.
‘Just a picture frame. And the light bulb from the lamp.’
‘Put it back up.’
She took the frame off his hands. The glass had cracked. A photograph of a man aged around thirty was trapped behind it. The faded colours betrayed that the picture must be at least two decades old. She carefully removed the shards of glass from the wood and returned the frame to the night stand.
&
nbsp; ‘What are you doing?’
Judith spun round. She hadn’t heard the man coming, but his tone of voice and the first visual impression were a match. He was thin, almost gaunt, and the unhealthily red face revealed that he was either suffering from the stairs or was an alcoholic. A glance at his jaundiced eyes suggested that the latter was more likely. She discerned a vague, almost caricature-like similarity with the man in the picture.
‘Hello. We’ve been assigned to de-putrefy the apartment.’
‘What?’
‘De-putrefy. The opposite of putrefy.’
‘Not by me. Get lost.’
‘According to the federal infectious disease laws, this apartment has to be properly cleaned and disinfected. I don’t know if you’re qualified to do it.’
‘I’m not paying. Just so you know right now. What were you doing with my mother’s nightstand? Don’t think I didn’t see you messing around with it.’
His gaze flitted around the room, coming to rest on the wrapped mattress.
‘And leave that here. Don’t touch a thing, you understand? Otherwise I’ll call the police.’
‘Was that your mother who was lying here for six weeks?’ Judith removed her rubber gloves. ‘My condolences.’
‘Get out of here. Immediately.’
Kai took a step towards the man. Judith reached for his arm, but immediately let him go.
‘No. You go,’ she said. Her hand was still thinking about that contact, but her head blocked out the thought of the touch. ‘I can’t permit you to be here until we have finished.’
The man hadn’t counted on resistance. Only now did he notice the changed chemistry of the room. He inhaled sharply through his nose. With remarkable transformational power his face revealed exactly what he felt: surprise, recognition, disgust.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Your mother’s body was picked up two hours ago. The funeral home will get in contact with you. You don’t look as if you’ve made a long journey. So stop playing the doting son and let us do our work.’
When Time Runs Out Page 17