The Acrobats

by Mordecai Richler

  First off, they would have to get back to Canada. There had been enough of this, now he had work to do. He would work with what he knew, that would have to do. Jesus, he wanted to talk to her!

  Below, on the river bed, a group of men were huddled around a twig fire. André felt that he wanted to join them. It would be just fine to tell them how he felt or maybe joke about women and the system. I am a bigger man now, he thought. My feelings are more than anger. His laugh began slowly then swelled up and broke out happily. But he was not yet certain what was happening to him. It will take time, he thought.

  Kraus put a hand on his shoulder and whirled him around. “What are you laughing at?” he asked.

  André started. “Kraus. Roger Kraus.”

  Kraus snatched his hand away. He saw André’s face wild and drunk and brilliant in the quick light of an exploding falla. He was suspicious of the way André had used his name. He had made it sound as if there was some doubt about whether he was Roger Kraus or not.

  André laughed again.

  Kraus moved back quickly and felt a hard knot of something form in his stomach. “Why are you always laughing?”

  André grinned, trying to be reassuring. “I’m fine. Honest I am,” he said. “You know, I feel like working. I’m going back to my room to paint.”

  Kraus stood in his way.

  “What’s wrong?” André asked hoarsely. “What do you want?”

  Kraus cocked his head to a side, incredulously. “Don’t you remember? Are you mad?”

  André passed his hand over his forehead. He felt dazed. But I’m not mad, he thought. “Remember what?”

  “You said that you were going to kill me.”

  André looked hard at Kraus and he remembered him or thought he remembered him striking old Mr. Blumberg. He remembered him in bed with Toni (while he himself, André, sat stupid in a chair, listening to time passing) or Ida who was dead, his filth inside her. (In that chair, rocking on a cloud perhaps, being unused and unknown.) Yes, it was Kraus. It had been Kraus always. “I don’t know. I – I seem to remember so many things. I don’t …” What if he is stronger than I am, he thought? What if he should kill me? Right now, when it is beginning. “Why have you been following me?”

  “You were unfaithful to her,” Kraus said vehemently, and as if by saying it he had put everything right. “You went up to the room with the whore. I saw you.”

  “Did you see the girl? She had …” No, André thought. He wouldn’t understand if I told him about her hair. “What business is it of yours?”

  Kraus said nothing. He was growing anxious. Always, they wanted to talk. Why couldn’t they get it over with?

  André tried to walk past him but Kraus stood in his way again. “I thought you were going to kill me,” he said.

  “I was, but …” But there was Toni. Painting. Chaim. “It would be stupid to die this way.”

  “You are afraid.”

  So that’s it, André thought. All I have to say is that I’m afraid. And God knows I am. But I am other things too.

  Suddenly André seized him by the collar. “Look, I’m afraid, is that okay? Christ, I don’t want to die now. It would …”

  Kraus stamped his foot. His face was red. His eyes were wet. “I can’t stand you,” he said. “You – you won’t let me alone. You, why do you look at me?” And then, panting, he pulled back and smashed André in the ribs.

  André wobbled. He gaped, trying to suck in air.

  Kraus watched, not knowing what to do. His eyes bulged.

  And just before he struck out at him, André noticed the men around the fire again, and he thought: Now, I will never joke with them. His punch caught Kraus on the nose.

  André knew it was wrong. He knew that he should not have wasted that first punch. But it was his face that was so ugly.

  XIV

  Then nothing.

  Stillness.

  The plaza was lost in a fog of fumes. The old woman had disappeared from Toni’s side.

  Where is he right now, Toni thought? I knew that morning on the river. Strange, it seemed years ago now, long ago and in a different country, when they had still been young and still been foolish. Actually, all they had had together had been an exciting weekend.

  The doomed gypsy, burning, leered from within the yellow gloom. The crowd backed further and further away. Suddenly, the gypsy’s belly – which had been packed with firecrackers – exploded. The sky went up in flames.

  Somewhere, she hoped he was watching. She knew he had always wanted to see it burn. She knew, that if he saw, it would make it easier for him.

  XV

  André was watching all right.

  Lying face upwards, half on the grass and half in the mud, he was watching the burning sky which was full of winking and exploding stars, real and unreal. He was watching the sky swinging around the bridge or the bridge rocking against the sky. Toni, I want you to know that I was afraid and that I told him.

  The ground was sinking away from him. He felt that it was improper for he was lying flat on it, but the ground was sinking away from him as if he was going up and away from it in an elevator. Toni, don’t you be afraid. He gasped. His breath was sporadic and his mouth was warm and thick with blood. If the men by the fire hear me and come to me, I wonder what I will tell them?

  He was not certain whether he was still in his room or with Toni or Chaim or hitting Mr. Blumberg.

  I will tell them yes and ask for a cigarette. If’s not much to ask for if you’re dying. I’ve given away quite a few myself in my day. Now I’m urinating, he thought. Usually I would think now I’m pissing or having a leak. But dying is very medical.

  He wanted to roll over because he felt that the jagged end of a rock was in his back. But he could not move himself. Or he did move himself and his body did not go with him. Yes, that’s funny. I must tell Chaim. I mean watching yourself going like this and thinking about your own thoughts while they’re going on. My mother will say that I passed away. She is afraid of the word death.

  He felt a lump in his throat, but only dimly as consciousness was slipping from him. He was sobbing. No. No. All I ask is that I know what’s going on. That’s all. Never mind the cigarette. Just knowing, eh. Or feeling.

  In grade six B listen now Miss Crankshaw had read Toni from a book which said do not move injured bodies you know until an MD arrives yes even if it is raining catsanddogs snow burning falla and one fine day she asked me André saying it Anne-dree what please is the capital of Poland O Apoo visiting princess lovely of my dreams and I couldn’t answer for I was intent on the hairy thing on her cheek which was colour ugly if I feel tomorrow so 8¼ years later on I joked with Collins if you don like my apples no I never stuffed Miss C oh God no ugly like father saying that’s filthy or Serge hugging me saying don’t tell please don’t God no but why do you shake my tree not Jean-Paul who was alright when my father says there is no second best in war or business oh stop this ohgoddingno crap you dont believe in it for ½ second no you don’t (now there is a man standing over me) and mama saying now still I bet do not leave me ever in the dark not ugly the girl’s hair or the sun at oh Apoo on the église in French of St. Germain-des-Prés or Toni o my love I didn’t did I mean tell him I was afraid her breasts dipping full (the man is waiting for me to die) why doesn’t the sky stay still for one just one second eh but I do not want to die with my eyes open not closing like Ida in my dreams o

  “Oh.”

  Suddenly, his fists digging into the mud, he pulled himself upwards. He thought he was screaming but his voice was small. “No. Just a bit – yet.”

  Then he fell backwards, his face in the mud.

  His eyes remained open, but the man saw that he was dead and he walked away.

  BOOK FOUR

  I

  AT 3 A.M. Barney staggered up to the room again to see if she was in. Jessie was lying in bed, smoking, and sipping gin. Barney nodded shyly.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “T
hanks for the flowers.”

  He noticed the flowers, slightly wilted, lying at the foot of the bed.

  “Well, where were you?” he asked.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You had quite a bit to drink last night.”

  “Oh, stop it! My head is bursting.”

  “Her head is bursting.”

  She smiled wryly. “Evidently I didn’t have enough to please you,” she said.

  “Just what do you mean by that?”

  “Did you get to the brothel last night, honey-bunny? Regardless of the fact that you are the father of two small children, regardless of the fact that you might have contracted some dreadful disease and infected me.”

  “I found you here kissing that tramp!”

  “I’m not deaf!”

  She had half-forgotten André. Now she remembered him tenderly, so that she felt a need to protect him. A joyful need that having an unloved man’s children had never given her. “We were both drunk,” she said. “It meant nothing.”

  “What did you expect me to think?”

  “I didn’t expect you to think anything.”

  “Put yourself in my place I mean …”

  “Oh Barney, stop being a child.”

  He winced. He tried not to reel.

  “What did we want to come to Europe for?” he said. “Let’s go home. I’ll buy you a convertible.”

  “Thanks, honey-bunny. But I’m too old for toys. In fact, I’ve been doing some thinking. I want to be loved. I’m tired of this.”

  She climbed lazily out of bed. Long-legged, slim, smiling trimly, she might easily have stepped out of any number of popular cigarette ads. She stretched, yawned, and brushed ashes off her black lace nightgown.

  Barney grabbed her roughly. “Gimme a kiss, baby,” he said.

  She pushed him away easily, and then she laughed. “Why, Barney, you’re drunk!” she cried.

  “Sure, I’m drunk. Why not? Kmir baby!”

  “Oh, don’t be foolish. You’re a grown man.”

  He grabbed her again. Her mouth was cold, unopened. He was drunk, still he shivered. She tried to push him away but he clung to her stubbornly. They fell down on the bed. He squeezed her to him and she began to struggle. He was breathing in short puffs. He was hurting her. With a great shove she managed to break away. She slapped him across the face and jumped off the bed.

  “Darn you!”

  Barney sat up. “You wouldnta moved away so quick if it was André, huh? You would have been crazy for that pinch coming from him!”

  He got up unsteadily and walked towards her.

  “André? Don’t be an idiot!”

  “I know all about the others too, honey-bunny! There’s a name for women like you.”

  She laughed, her lips quivering. “You never had it to give to me. Never! Impotent fool!”

  He slapped her.

  “Impotent!”

  He slapped her again.

  “Slut!”

  And suddenly he turned away, and he was sick.

  He collapsed on the edge of the bed. His head hanging between his knees he was sick again and again. He felt his eyes popping, sweat soaking him, and his nose stinging. Staring downwards dreamily – his head hanging limply, jerking alive again as his whole body shook in another fit of vomiting – all he could see was his own spew. Finally, he had no more to bring up. He lay back on the bed exhausted. He felt an odd sensation of wellbeing flutter through him.

  When she believed that he had rested enough, Jessie brought him a glass of cold water. He drank it slowly. He wanted to lie there for ever. Jessie lit a cigarette and slipped it between her lips.

  “Feeling better?”

  He took a long puff of his cigarette. She was seated on the edge of the bed. So calm, so unruffled. He envied her.

  “You married me for my money, didn’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you hate me because I’m a Jew?”

  “No, I don’t hate you.”

  “Derek says you hate me.”

  “How does Derek come into this?”

  “Do you think it was fair?”

  “No.”

  “No. She doesn’t think it was fair.”

  His voice was breaking. She did not want to see what was coming.

  “I was very young,” she said. “I got my notice a short while before I met you. You could give me all the things I wanted. I’m sorry, it was a mistake. But you didn’t really love me either, Barney.”

  “I suppose I bought you with my money?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed. “I worked so hard to make my money.”

  “Do you want a divorce?”

  “Divorce?” he said, his voice trembling.

  “We might as well face it.”

  He rolled over in bed so that she could not see his face or that his eyes were wet. “Always giving me the shit about the business, about how I skimped and saved. But it was good enough to buy you clothes and stuff, huh? Good enough to pay off the bums you hung around with? All that crap about your family. You didn’t marry below yourself. Your father was a crook. A crook, do you hear? Don’t worry, I know. I know a lot of things. My father may have been poor but let me tell you we paid our bills. We never took anything from anybody. Not even a crumb of bread if we were starving. So I’m a Jew, huh? Go ahead, tell me. I changed my name. Well, I was wrong. I only wish I was a rabbi or something, then I’d tell you. I’d quote facts. Just look at the job we’re doing in Israel! I was talking to a guy only …”

  “I’m going out for a walk,” she said.

  He started to get up. “Wait. I’m sorry. I’ll go with you.”

  “I’ll see you later,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’m not angry. I just want to be alone for a few moments.”

  He watched her go.

  “Were you serious about the divorce?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

  She’s going to André, he thought. He comes from a good family, he’s not a Jew.

  Barney lay back on the bed and pushed the flowers away with his foot.

  II

  Seated at the bar in the Tango Club, Derek grinned tipsily at a brawny man who he thought was definitely gay. The man moved away and Juanito edged in beside Derek.

  “You’re late,” Derek said.

  “I’m sorry. I got away as soon as I could.”

  “Well?”

  “You were right,” Juanito said. “André has disappeared. He probably left with the Jew.”

  “Splendid, D.J. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing. He is my friend.” Juanito felt he was an important figure now that André had disappeared. Many people stopped him to ask for news of André, and always Juanito shrugged his shoulders, as if he knew but could not say. Toni, naturally, believed he was dead. But that, Juanito thought, was only because she couldn’t imagine him leaving her. “André is crazy,” Juanito said. “Imagine him running off only because of two hundred dollars. I can’t understand it.”

  Derek laughed. “You’re priceless, D.J.,” he said.

  “I did the best I could for him, but I never got so much as a word of thanks. He betrayed me for money! Have you any news from your sister and brother-in-law?”

  The fiesta was over. Only the habitual drinkers idled about the bar. They were as pleased as children at a fair that their wonderland was their very own again, but there was one intruder to mar the gaiety of the reunion. A jolly man, who had missed his train to Madrid again, was guzzling champagne all by himself. He made the occasional announcement. His last one had been to the effect that he was more irresistible to women than anyone else in the Club. Then, his own laughter consumed him.

  “They’re still here,” Derek said. “Jessie says that Barney is acting very strangely. He’s talking about going to Israel with the children. But don’t worry, they’ll make up again. How long has André been missing?”

  “He didn’t show up at his h
otel Monday night. It’s odd, he left all his things there.”

  “Perhaps he’s gone off into the mountains to contemplate his navel?”

  “Toni believes that he is dead.”

  “Who’s Toni?”

  “She’s his mistress.” Juanito noticed that Luís was watching them. He averted his eyes. “She says that we killed him and that he is in the river.” Juanito did not mention Guillermo to Derek. He did not want Derek to know that he had been questioned and insulted. He tapped his forehead and shrugged his shoulders. “You know how it is?”

  “Oh shettup!” Derek said quickly.

  Derek was angry. The past could not be truly erased. It was there, a shape in the darkness, lurking there always, waiting to leap up at him. He did not have the strength to resist Juanito or the love to help Barney but his heart still went out to André and the others.

  Juanito flushed. “If you talk to me like that I will …”

  “All right. I’m sorry.” He laughed. “If you only knew how sorry, D.J.”

  Luís leaned over the bar towards Juanito. His eyes were hot and melancholy. “Why couldn’t you have told Guillermo what you knew?” he asked. “André was your friend.”

  Derek turned to Juanito. “What does he want?”

  “He’s a friend of André’s. He used to work for Chaim in the Mocambo Club.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Luís said. “Guillermo knows. Ask Kraus if he doesn’t know? Ask his sister?”

  Juanito pushed Luís away. “You’re drunk.”

  Luís trembled. “It’s his sister. She’s mad, I tell you. She …” He giggled. “She’s ugly.”

  The man who had missed his train to Madrid called for another bottle of champagne, and Luís moved away sadly.

  Juanito laughed nervously.

  “What goes on between you and the German colonel?” Derek asked quickly.

  “Are you crazy? What do you think I am?”

  Derek patted Juanito’s cheek.

  “Don’t do that here!”

  “What about you and the gorgeous German?”