by H. G. Adler
“Holed up in Ruhenthal. They would love to be here, but it rained too hard and because of that they didn’t catch the train.”
“That’s not very nice. They should have arrived at the station an hour earlier.”
Caroline cannot stand the guilt she feels. You don’t allow a sister to travel alone, at least not in this war. Ida is gone and so are all the others. Separated from one another. The song is torn in two. Different train cars. The railroad does with people what it wants, no one is never allowed to complain. Please don’t forget to send a telegram. Arrived safely. Lovely here. Weather like at home. Healthy. Luggage unharmed. Excellent accommodations. Five meals a day with a wide choice of menu. A comfortable room in the hotel with a view of the lake. On the balcony, lounge chairs with umbrellas to protect against the sun. There you can lie low in comfort. Pleasant company. Charming staff. Running water, central heating. Nearby is the spa where the band plays from morning to evening. Overtures to Martha, Martha who disappeared. Nice relations here. Everything just like home or even better, since you don’t have to worry about anything. The cook and the housemaid do everything themselves, no need to hassle them. Everything works without a hitch. The hours for meals are fixed. There is nothing to eat. No, there is something. But it’s pretty bad. The potatoes are black and hard. There are only peels. That’s why it costs nothing to stay. No need to pay anything, not even the luxury tax on spas. One would only like to know just where the money for such luxurious expenditures is coming from. It makes no sense. This new social order is perfect. The oppression and enslavement of people has stopped, they are all perfect ladies and gentlemen, each as happy as the next.
Therefore no one needs to worry about Ida, given how well she’s taken care of. Caroline, Paul, and Zerlina accompany the passengers who are ready to board. Ida says good-bye to her housemates. “Head high, dear Frau Schwarz! It won’t be so bad! And then we’ll see each other again after the war, it’s a promise, so good-bye for now, for now good-bye!” Then they’re gone. Only Leopold is not there. He is too weak and is lying in the sickroom. Why bother disturbing the old man as well? He says that it’s not fair, but he doesn’t understand. It would also bother Ida to see Leopold there. He was in agony as he spoke to her when Ida went with Caroline to say good-bye.
“Well then, Ida, you’re off. Safe journey! Be brave! Write us as soon as you can! If you really like it there, we’ll come join you. I’ll talk about it with Paul so that he can make the arrangements. But if you think it’s better here, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise and come right back as soon as you can! Paul will pick you up. And be careful, Ida! You can’t be too careful when you travel because there are so many shady characters who especially like to take advantage of women traveling alone. Never let your bag out of sight! Also, remember your rheumatism! It’s important to stay warm on the trip! You’re so easily distracted, but engine smoke is poisonous to you! Keep your legs wrapped in a blanket, and wear your wool gloves, Ida! And don’t forget to use your umbrella as soon as you get off the train!”
Caroline was beside herself. He would never get it. All this about Ida getting sick! He’s crazy or he’s putting on an act by behaving as if the world had not turned upside down.
“Let him be, Caroline, it’s what he needs! He hasn’t changed a bit, only the world has, and he doesn’t see it.”
Then they leave the house. Paul and Zerlina grab the luggage, Caroline takes her sister’s arm.
“You must be brave, Caroline. I’ll make it after all!”
Now they are by the gate, beyond which no one is allowed to accompany the departing passengers, who spend their last moments in Ruhenthal guarded only by the train attendants. Paul and Zerlina drape their aunt with her bags. Caroline laughs with tears in her eyes. The aunt also cries and laughs.
“Take care of yourself, Ida!”
And then she is gone. Those left behind look on as she slowly shuffles across the dirty floor, but Ida no longer looks back.
“She’s gone.”
Caroline is alone and has let her only sister be hauled off. What would her parents have said? Siblings stick together through thick and thin. Once we sat together at the same table. You in a little dress, me in a little dress, you a little doll, me a little doll. The doll is gone, the dress is gone. The sister tossed away as well. Betrayed and sold off. Not enough packed away in her bags. Tossed into the unknown like a piece of rubbish on the rubbish heap. No one by her side. Released to the dark depths of Hades and with only mementos packed in around her. Caroline had seen the same in a museum, the things that are given to the dead in order to release them, particularly the Egyptians. They heaped up treasures for the dead. But Ida had nothing more than a bit of stuff that she pressed to herself. She cannot carry it all, but she will take it all with her. “What do you need that for, dear lady? Give it here, dead is dead! Unburden yourself and your conscience!” The suitcase is gone for good. It is yanked open, everything is strewn around, the empty suitcase thrown onto the rubbish heap. What good are the large white letters now? The Egyptian graves have been broken into and robbed, yet the thieves are made famous by their theft, write books about it, and are celebrated in the newspapers for their misdeeds. But the thieves are not made happier by their violation of the corpses. The ancient curse has caught up with them, they die like flies, though the treasure is stacked up in the museum and no one feels any shame over such a scandal.
What will happen to the treasures of the departed? Everything is displayed in glass cases after it has been cleaned and conserved, the neat writing explains everything. Burial goods for Frau Ida Schwarz. Knit stockings and a piece of soap. The little nightcap whose band is somewhat damaged, and the coffee cup with just a small crack. The glasses in the open case. The photographs of Ida’s husband and her dear son behind the glass on a wire stand. The teacher leads the children into the museum and has to explain everything in detail.
“Stand still and behave, dear children, and pay attention to what I have to tell you! What’s here once was. This woman was once alive. We don’t really know anything about her, but isn’t it amazing that we indeed do know so much about her because of advances in science? Back then everything was gathered up and sorted out, then wrapped in cotton matting and sent off to the museum. Here it was carefully unwrapped and cleaned up as good as it could be. Then everything was set in order and described exactly. There are thick books written about all of it. When you are older you can read about it sometime. In the school library we also have a thick volume with many colorful pictures. You’ll find everything there described in detail. We will be writing an essay about this, so pay close attention! If you look closely at everything here, then you won’t need the book at all and can write your own proper description. The child who does the best work will be honored by the museum director. No pain, no gain. So all eyes here! Those are the shoes that this woman wore. They’re made of leather. How well preserved they are! You all can imagine what it was really like, even though it was at least a hundred years ago that this woman was sent off on her journey along with many others. Yes, those were great days, when people could still be shipped back and forth, though I’ll say more about that next time!”
Most of the schoolchildren are well behaved and press their noses to the glass and lick the corners of the case. Only some misbehave and giggle, poke one another with their elbows, don’t care about the noteworthy goods, and hide behind the display cases.
“I thought you would all be nice in the museum. Just remember that this is sacred ground. Only because they have so much to teach us, no one buried these mementos, but instead displayed them so that we could learn by looking at them. Remember that all these people were once alive and went to school like you, even Frau Schwarz here. Just try to imagine that it is quite possible that this woman had children, just like all of you here. This photo here, for instance, in the opinion of scholars, can only be of a son, and no doubt this boy and his siblings cried once they no longer had a mother. D
on’t be surprised if you find yourself experiencing a shudder of deep fear here in the museum. These are powerful and precious memories.”
“Excuse me, teacher, but where are the bones and skull of this Frau Schwarz? Why are they not in the museum as well?”
“The bodily remains of Frau Schwarz are not here. It could be that the corpse was somehow lost and no one has found it yet. Nonetheless maybe someday it will be dug up, since everywhere so many interesting discoveries are made these days. However, it’s also possible that the earthly remains were cremated, thus making it difficult, first, to find the ashes and, second, to prove that a pile of ashes contains the remains of Frau Schwarz. When something is not known for sure, dear children, then it’s not suitable for display in a well-organized museum that plays an important role in the scientific community. That’s why you all have to be satisfied with the burial goods that have been carefully gathered together here. It’s indeed a miracle when something remains of a person. But now you’ve seen enough, we have to move on.”
Only Caroline remains standing in the museum, because she cannot pull herself away from what she’s looking at. Who knows whether these things belonged to her great-grandmother or even her mother back then? Everything looked so familiar to Caroline. She is sure she has seen these things somewhere before. But that was a long time ago, when the piano still stood in the parents’ living room. But Caroline could also be confused, because all of the contents of the museum look remarkably alike. The Romans also had central heating. Nothing has changed. People also supposedly wore shoes in the Ice Age. Glasses already existed in the Middle Ages. But these things are not that old. Hardly any of them were made by hand, except the nightcap. Everything else is factory-produced, just like those made and sold today. Yet that doesn’t matter so much. Such things also did not belong to Caroline’s long-lost ancestors, much less a woman who had been saddled with a fate as overwhelming as one endured a hundred or even a thousand years before.
Caroline is frightened at the thought that such a thing could also happen today. The times don’t change at all, they just pass by. Just as the world looks when a child first gazes upon it, so it is right up until death. This woman did not die a natural death. It was an accident. Zerlina couldn’t prove that she starved to death. A train tipped over, and as a result there were so many dead that the bones couldn’t be sorted. Only the bag survived in part. Now it’s here. The children had minded it and made sure it didn’t disappear for good. Frau Schwarz had no idea what would happen when she got on the train with all of the other passengers. She in fact was happy about the journey and looked forward to the destination, and yet there came the sudden end. How many tears the newspaper must have caused to flow back then! We regret to inform our readership about the sudden death of a special long train. In lieu of flowers it is requested that donations be made to the Technology Museum; drop off all objects there, fully numbered. Consignment sheets are available at the front desk of this newspaper so that each individual can turn in something either of his own or of his next of kin. Signed, The Editors, on behalf of the grateful children.
Yet what if it wasn’t like that? Then it was different. It was. Who can say how it was? The dead! They say it. They are asked to bear witness. You must preserve justice. The judge summons all to lift themselves out of the rubbish and answer him without fear. How did this happen? Two sisters. One stayed, one left. Both died. Because they hid separately. One crawled into the piano and the lid fell upon her. The song was over. Her parents scolded her because the boy with the goose had been tipped over. The goose was broken off. The figure was not made of alabaster. It was only made of plaster, white dust, powder, and nothing more. The boy pulling the thorn, however, made it through. He was made of real stone. He continues as ever to pull the thorn from his Achilles’ heel and can never finish the task. He dies without ever ceasing. He could have saved himself the trouble if only he had bought some shoes. The parents can scold all they want to, but still he died and died. Otherwise there was nothing for him to do, because the times don’t change, they only pass by, though the thorn of rubbish lasts through all times.
No, that can’t be possible. If one has good intentions, nothing can happen. Our trains, for instance. Their safety coefficient. At least before the war. It was murder. Ida was pulled off the train. Then everyone stood there. The people on the left, the luggage on the right. The people were finished off, the suitcase was sent to the museum. One could not allow technological progress to be halted, but one also had to preserve its story as well. That’s why the people were killed, there being no need to collect their ashes. They died and dissolved into the earth. Against such treatment all people need to protest: We won’t do it! We don’t want any luggage, we want our life back! Someone has to force the train’s engineer to go back if he won’t do it on his own! First to Ruhenthal and then home! The journey back! No one is allowed to send anyone on a journey, especially to death, if he doesn’t have a ticket for it as well! Schedules need to be publicly displayed, enough with secrecy, it’s obvious that the connections need to be listed so that each can choose for himself! Only when one understands everything and has thought it through thoroughly does the plan for the journey come together. Then each travels as he wishes. The time doesn’t change, but instead a person travels through according to his own wishes. The children, however, must not be sent to the museums, where they cry or cause mischief. Instead you should show them maps of all the countries and explain it to them in school. That way even as youngsters they can learn how to read timetables and not be afraid of trains, since for them it’s free. Every child loves to play with trains. This way he or she will at last catch their train.
Travel bureaus have brought so much unhappiness to humanity because so many count on them. In this manner a travel bureau only serves people who are ready, who already know what they want. How easy it is for the uninformed to be disappointed by the many pictures and prospectuses. This happens often not only as a result of bad intentions but also carelessness and misunderstanding. The attendants share what they have in high-pitched voices, but the people hardly pay attention. Whoever doesn’t know the web of the railroad lines can easily be left hanging within it. If they get caught at a junction, then everything is over. Then the spider gobbles up the travelers after having waited for them while patiently lurking in its hiding place. Too late the eyes try to decipher the names of the stations as the train passes. The night descends, the light fails, the right town is long gone before you even see it, and there’s no one there to help, even if you scream and plead. Strange station attendants salute the steaming locomotive.
“It’s an express transport, madam. Don’t say anything to anyone else! The spider is watching. If it can, it will jump as soon as the train slows down on a bend!”
Then Ida jumped out of the moving train and lay lifeless on the tracks. Only the suitcase was found in the train car and entrusted to the museum as ownerless goods. Caroline had to go to the lost and found.
“You put my sister’s things on display. Please, I’m the next of kin. Give me everything that’s in the glass case! I’ll pay you the assessed finder’s fee.”
“We’re sorry, but the museum is closed. The museum belongs to the state. The state gives nothing away.”
“How am I supposed to get my things? I will get a lawyer.”
“Legal action is pointless. The state comes before justice. The only avenue you can pursue is an unequivocal plea for mercy to the spider. But don’t get your hopes up!”
“Where can I find the spider?”
“That I don’t know. But it’s everywhere. It has as many legs as its web has strands. You only need to tremble and he’ll show up.”
“I’m trembling already.”
“It only comes when it wants to suck up a meal. Then you can ask him. Yet by then it’s already too late, because the spider doesn’t listen once he arrives.”
Caroline flees the lost and found and runs off. She sits in her room on
the bed. She can’t go to a spider from which one has to stay hidden. Ida’s space is empty. Everything sucked away. Only the uncovered straw mattress lies there. Whatever she left behind is already tucked away into Caroline’s luggage. Ida nonetheless has been put on display in the Natural History Museum. She has been laid there in spirit. No, she is in the Technology Museum. The spider has brought her there. Now the old machine is taken apart. The professionals decipher the inscription on the boiler. There stands the name of the firm that supplied the machine:
SCHWARZ, IDA—6/1/1882
It’s actually not been a hundred years. One exaggerates so easily. The machine can no longer be operated. It looks to be a broken-down watch. Not even the best doctor can wind the spring. It has been ruined. The clock hand is broken off and bent. The conservator says: “I’ve never seen such a badly handled watch.” Not even after sixty years would such a piece be so badly damaged through regular wear and tear. Naughty children must have played with it. That’s the fault of a bad upbringing, one in which the younger generation never has to take piano lessons. The rhythm is lost, everyone bangs away however he wants to. It’s a cultural outrage when a rheumatic timepiece is not properly handled. Now it’s too late, not even an oil bath can do any good. All of the components need to be designed anew, but that would be much too expensive, and the doctors wouldn’t even know what to do. The war has bankrupted everyone. Diet alone cannot accomplish very much when the intestines are already rotten. All the medicine is sold out. The director of the museum is not a cruel person, but nonetheless he adamantly shakes his head.
“We have to display the work as is. Maybe after the war we can have a specialist from America come. There the ability of watchmakers has apparently made great strides in recent years. One takes the living heart out of the machine, operates, allows artificial breathing to proceed throughout, and sets a new ruby heart back in.”