Iron Gustav (61 page)

‘Yes, if!'

‘So. Didn't you come from the bank, Heinz?'

‘If I tell you, it would be too easy.'

‘Heinz, your meal's getting cold.'

‘What sort of a whip is it then? Have another look at it, Gustav.'

‘Yes, Heinz.'

‘From a shop!'

‘No, Otto, not from a shop. Look, Gustav.'

‘I know, I know!'

‘And I know too.'

‘No you don't, Otto. Your soup—'

‘So what do you know, Gustav?'

‘It came from Grandfather.'

‘Yes, indeed. That whip was made for you, especially for you, by the oldest cab driver in Berlin – Iron Gustav!'

‘Will he come soon? I want to ride in a cab.'

‘Always on to the next thing! Out with you, enjoy your whip! Afterwards, take some polish, Gustav, and polish up its handle a bit. Grandfather didn't have any more time. So now, out with you!'

‘Will you give us a cloth to clean it with, Mummy?'

‘Give it to them. Out you go! What is it, Tutti?'

‘Nothing – nothing at all. Please eat now.'

‘But I can see, something is wrong. Are you angry with me?'

‘Please, just eat!'

‘So you are angry with me. Why?'

‘Please eat, Heinz!'

‘Not until you tell me …'

‘I'm not saying anything. You must eat! Are you deaf?'

‘But
what in heaven's name is wrong, Tutti?' he asked, completely mystified. He knew about women's whims from his colleagues at the bank – from Irma, and mostly from Tinette. And he should have known from experience that a woman in non-answering mode is more stubborn than a mule, and only makes all questions and pressure more useless.

But no, he declared decisively: ‘I'm not eating a mouthful until you tell me what's going on, Tutti.'

She was enraged and said: ‘Eat now, or shall I clear away?'

‘Please, Tutti. Tell me what's happened.'

She looked at him, almost begging for help. It should never have come to this. She felt she'd done the wrong thing. If only he would eat! He must have his meal. He must spare her having to clear away.

But no, he spared her nothing, absolutely nothing. ‘Please, clear away. I'm not hungry any more.'

And she did clear away, with death in her heart. He'd come home from work, or rather he had not come home from work, but without food, and then he hadn't eaten. It made her desperate. And all that time not a single word had been spoken about what she really wanted to accuse him of. They really had started an argument about nothing. What would have happened if she had talked about his lies?

Nevertheless, she did not clear his meal away completely, but kept it ready to hand. She hoped that he would still eat, despite everything; order means not going to bed without eating. There are still four hours to go before bedtime. He must eat within that time. She would like to feed him spoon by spoon like an unruly child!

That child fidgeted about in the kitchen, picking up this and that and putting it down again. He looked for letters in the little shoe cupboard – but there were none, because the one letter that was there she still had in her bag from her journey to the bank. Heinz was visibly undecided what to do. She felt she would give way at the first kind word. But he was as incapable as she was of uttering it.

In the end he disappeared into the front room, where he slept with the boys (she slept in the kitchen), and she heard the sound of water splashing. She settled down at the table with her sewing, deeply unhappy – even more so than in the morning when she
discovered his deceit. Because now that she had seen him again, she was almost certain that everything was different. Hadn't he said that the whip came from Grandfather? So, that's where it came from. So she had only needed to ask him, why now from Grandfather and not from the bank? But she hadn't asked. And now it's all a mess.

He should have told me for sure before; her thinking was dogged and bitter. I don't want to have to interrogate him all the time! At the same time, she was sound enough in herself to feel that everything, including the interrogation, was a bit exaggerated.

During the next ten minutes, Heinz went numerous times past the kitchen, in a hurry, as if on fire. He went between the front room and the corridor. Outside, in the corridor, his voice was pronouncedly carefree. He was cleaning; in the front room and in the kitchen, he was silent. At one moment she nearly flared up, when he rummaged through her mending basket for a cloth, and – typical man – took away the one indispensable item – a patch for Gustav's trousers.

However, she controlled herself. If he doesn't eat, he can ruin the mending of Gustav's trousers too. She would have to find a new patch. Let him go on being like that!

She simply accepted everything like no other woman, and her silence was so striking that it was almost audible …

Heinz perhaps felt that too. Because he stopped walking up and down like a fireman, and for a while she heard him still whispering with the children, telling them to be quiet – ‘Don't upset Mummy, the poor thing's not well' – and then she only heard the children whispering.

She didn't really trust the apparent peace. And, after a further quarter of an hour, when she looked for him, she established that young Heinz had gone, not just to the lavatory halfway up the stairs, but that he had completely gone, with hat and coat.

The children were playing with the whip. They had made it into a cab. One grasped the handle, the other the lash, and easily, at will, turned it into a horse and driver. Just as easily as Mummy and Heinz had changed from being the best of friends to being bitter enemies.

Because that's what they now were – Gertrud could see it no other way. The fact that he had deceived her about his holiday, and
that he not only refused his meal, but even left the house without saying goodbye – and at a time when he never went out. No, that really crowned his behaviour! She would never speak to him again – and if he spoke to her, then she would give him a bit of her mind, and tell him exactly what she thought of him.

For the next three-quarters of an hour, she seemed to sew everything that she thought of him into Elfriede Fischer's dress. The sewing held, but every needle prick must eventually make itself felt a thousand times on the said Fräulein Fischer!

Then she had to give the children their supper, which took place – against all custom – almost in silence. Then Gustav put Otto to bed, and she heard the children chatting in the front room, with their grandfather as their favourite subject. Grandfather who had sent a whip and imagined it would make everything all right … Grandfather, whose stubbornness Heinz had inherited. Oh God, she would have to take much more care of the children to see that they did not inherit the same. Defiance is a curse! Stubbornness is too. Just as Heinz had always stubbornly said: ‘I won't have any soup today' – just as in
Struwwelpeter
– unbearable. Horrible!

Then Gustav came back into the kitchen to read for another hour, as he did every evening before going to sleep. Just then, Tutti thought she heard Heinz on the staircase, and wanted to be alone with him on his return. So Gustav was sent off; he had of course forgotten to cut the little one's nails.

Gustav stubbornly insisted that tomorrow, not today, was the weekly nail-cutting day. But such persistent stubbornness made Gertrud very angry: ‘Go and cut his nails at once! You must do as I say. Your stubbornness is horrible.'

However, it had not been Heinz on the staircase, so Gustav had to suffer the downpour from his mother's storm clouds for nothing. She immediately regretted this very much, but then comforted herself with the thought that it was enough if he learned to obey, even if he didn't understand the meaning of the order.

However, her ear-slapping mode prevailed. It was in Heinz's favour, because it brought her a small step closer to him. She took the letter about the inheritance out of her little handbag and put it visibly on the little shoe cupboard. That would be a starting point. If
he didn't take it up out of pure defiance, then she would consider him lost – lost for ever.

Shortly before seven o'clock Heinz returned, all sweet innocence, cheeks freshly reddened by the cold. He had a lively talk with his nephew, first about the whip, then about the Occupation of the Ruhr, which the English Law Courts had now also declared illegal. As a result of that, the mark had become a little stronger.

And then, at table: ‘I did a quick shop and bought what was available. We at the bank don't think the French will give way. So the mark will fall again. There are also two hundredweight of briquettes in the cellar.'

‘Thanks,' said Tutti. ‘We already had enough briquettes.'

And she would have liked to hit out again, first because what she said was not the case, and second because, whatever she did, she could only make the war situation worse. In these icy conditions, to drag two hundredweight of briquettes from the coal merchants to the cellar was an achievement indeed!

Heinz responded to this expression of thanks with a surprised shrug of the shoulders, fetched a book from the front room (and in doing so quite needlessly whispered for a long time with little Otto, who should have been asleep long ago), sat down at the table and began to read.

Unbroken silence reigned until half past seven, when Gustav closed his book, said goodnight, and disappeared. Two minutes later Gertrud got up, went to the little shoe cupboard, within sight – incidentally – of the reading Heinz, made a provocative noise, as he wouldn't look up, with the document from the Bergen court in Hiddensee, and then disappeared, leaving the letter behind – to go into the adjoining room to see that that rascal Gustav was washing himself properly.

When she came back into the kitchen ten minutes later, she looked first at her brother-in-law, then at the letter. He was reading as before, and the letter was also lying where it had been.

She began her sewing with a feeling of total devastation. Two hours lay before them before bedtime, but she was convinced that, after so much accommodation on her part, she was no longer
capable of uttering a word. Were they to go to bed in a state of strife? And what about? About nothing. (She was now convinced that it had all been ‘about nothing'.) And he had dragged two hundredweight of briquettes into the cellar! And he'd thought of coconut oil too. What misery!

Time went by in total silence. The reader's face was near her; occasionally she heard the sound of pages being turned. He wasn't just pretending to read; he really was reading. About every half-hour he got up and went into the corridor. It was just the same as ever; he never smoked in the kitchen. He went into the stairwell to smoke, so that she didn't have to sleep in a smoke-filled kitchen. That was actually thoughtful, but not today; it was just habit. She was almost convinced that, had he only thought of it, he would have smoked in the kitchen just to annoy her.

By the time it was past nine o'clock, she was feeling ever more anxious. Only twenty-five minutes to go! She had never gone to bed with such a burden, and she still had to talk things over with him. But he was completely pig-headed.

At ten minutes before half past nine, Heinz went out to the stairwell for the last time to smoke his habitual last cigarette. While he was outside, she controlled herself heroically. Once again, she gave way. She took the letter from the little shoe cupboard and put it in the middle of the table. Two minutes later she pushed the letter nearer his book, and a minute after that close up to his book. And if he had come back a little later, her spirit of sacrifice would have driven her to put it on the book itself.

But he had already come in. ‘Well, goodnight, Tutti,' he said carelessly and took his book. He started when he saw the letter. (He really started, so he really hadn't seen it before. Incredible!) He read the sender's address, repeated ‘Well, goodnight, Tutti', and went towards the door of the front room.

‘Heinz!' she cried, like a drowning woman.

‘What's wrong?' he asked, a bit grumpy.

‘The letter!' and she pointed to it.

‘Yes, so what?'

‘Read it, Heinz. Please read it.'

He
looked at her and suddenly, seeing her standing there, a bundle of misery, almost in tears – suddenly he began to laugh, to roar with laughter.

‘Tutti! Tutti!' he cried, laughing. ‘Whatever is wrong with you today? You make a thorough mess of me, you don't feed me, and you don't utter a word – you're not going sick on me, are you?'

And when she saw him standing there like that – tall, laughing, young and full of life – it suddenly hit her. She understood immediately why she had got so upset that morning over his ‘deceit' – why she had argued with him and sulked. She understood, and she felt that she loved him – that the younger man had outlived, really outlived, the older one – that nothing more of Otto remained in her.

In the same moment that she was conscious of her love, she was also conscious that he should never ever notice it. She saw herself as if in a mirror – her head, which with age had become more pointed, more bird-like, her hump … and she remembered that he was ten years younger than her.

While all this went through her – a huge wave of happiness and misery which totally overwhelmed her – she was still at the same time his old sister-in-law Tutti, whom he knew. Then she pressed her lips together again and said: ‘You were absolutely right to laugh at me, Heinz. I've been completely crazy today. It must have been the excitement. First, excitement over the inheritance, and then my being upset when you were not at the bank, but on holiday. Why were you on holiday, by the way?'

However, while she was still speaking, she felt the wave inside sinking and sinking, until it had gone. It had been – once again – a moment, before her life declined, which had raised her up as if on a high mountain, and enabled her to see, and for a fleeting moment to feel, all the treasures of love, happiness, and sadness too. But as she was more than halfway through her life, she easily sank back into her petty, daily round of duty and renunciation.