Rigadoon (25 page)

"All right, let's go! you, Felipe, don't start without me!"

I'm not too easy in my mind . . . the kids aren't scared at all, they come right along . . . they're insensible, at least one advantage they've got . . . they flop, they pick themselves up, they keep crawling . . . they slobber, they bark . . . they must be hungry, they can't say so, they don't complain . . . they don't say anything . . . these little explosions . . . they must have heard worse on their way from Breslau . . . they can't tell us . . . they're all swaddled and wrapped in tarps and scraps of wool . . . be all right if they weren't sopping wet . . . ought to be some way to get them dry! . . . damn it, there's that "ought" again . . . at certain times that's the only word that turns up! you haven't got a stitch of strength left, the whole world is collapsing on top of you, and there they go . . . "he made a mistake, he ought to have . . .!" . . . the kids collide, flop, pick themselves up . . . and start all over again, stumbling from hole to hole . . . we're getting into Hamburg! . . . say, this is it! . . . bravo, little cretins! the heart of the city . . . I tell Lili, I tell Felipe! . . . I want them to know! to get a little benefit from my erudition . . . I know Hamburg and its history . . .

"You've split my head, Felipe! you brickmaking brute! but Charlemagne! it's Charlemagne that founded Hamburg! big man, Charlemagne! don't contradict me, Felipe! . . ."

He doesn't contradict me, he doesn't give a shit . . . with his tarp bundled up on his head . . . let's try and get my bearings . . . I know this place! I mean, I used to . . . I'd been here lots of times . . . ten . . . twenty times . . . for the League of Nations . . . long time ago! . . . connection with tropical diseases . . . that nobody's interested in any more . . . even their names wouldn't mean a thing to you . . . right here now, what a shambles! mountains of paving stones . . . with a streetcar . . . two streetcars! . . . perched on top, teetering . . . I've seen drawings by the supposedly insane that aren't half as crazy . . . nothing much to recognize . . . especially with this smoke, so thick and grimy-sticky, worse than the tunnels, like cotton wool, I defy you to tell me which is what . . . to recognize objects or people! Felipe! Felipe! Lili! I'm calling the roll . . . "you got Bébert?" "yes!" . . . about the kids, there was no way of knowing . . . in the first place I hadn't counted them . . . besides, they had no names . . . but they heard me . . . oh, the people all around us, the ones that are supposed to be normal . . . same difference! . . . they hear us and they don't understand a thing . . . the earth doesn't want men, it wants hominids . . . in a hominid world, man is a degenerate, a monster, who fortunately reproduces less and less . . . the future belongs to the chopper-gobble Balubas, the train eaters . . . whole trains they'll gobble up, passengers, conductors, babies! the whole works! when? as soon as they're motorized plus the atom, you'll see . . .

How many children? I've told you, I never knew exactly . . . twelve? . . . fifteen? why not count them? easy to say . . . but the strength? I wasn't as old as I am now, but even so . . . when it comes to strength, a healthy, well-fed man is only a sixteenth of a horsepower, at the very most . . . a sick muddle-headed jerk is hardly a twentieth . . .

All of a sudden, right where I'm telling you, in the heart of Hamburg I think, a gust of wind! the wind must have changed, I see where we are . . . no mistake, we're in front of the Hotel Esplanade . . . oh, I can't be wrong! . . . but this Hotel Esplanade is all split open . . . the roofs hanging down in front . . . the effect . . . surrealist I was going to say . . . not as scrambled as those paintings, but pretty near . . . except that the paintings are practically odorless . . . and here there was all the smell you could ask for . . . acrid . . . with a slight tinge of corpse, I'm not saying that for effect, I know . . . but nothing fazed those kids, neither the black acrid smoke nor the explosions, I suppose they were used to it . . . nothing bothered them but the holes . . . there's another! still deeper! ah, and disemboweled rails, twisted like bobby pins . . . talking about this Hotel Esplanade, I could tell you about their head wine-waiter, who refused to serve iced Bordeaux and they threw him out, etc., I'll tell you the story some day if I have time and I'm still alive . . .
Zimmer Wärme! Zimmer Wärme!
room temperature! . . . he stuck to his guns! it had cost him his job, the customer had been furious, et cetera . . . he told me about it twenty times in the prison infirmary . . . and that wasn't the only dumb thing he had done . . .

That'll do, I'm getting lost! . . . what I really want . . . this minute! . . . is for Felipe to explain about that brick! . . . more and more I'm thinking he did it on purpose . . . that he baked it himself in
da bricka vork
back in Magdeburg! . . . exactly! and I wasn't going to let him get away with it! . . . bashing my skull in for no reason at all . . . curses! his abominable deed has got me thinking so hard I can't move! . . . they could all jump in the ocean . . . the whole lot of them! I resign, not another step! . . . I'm going to lie down like Odile, I'm as weak as water . . . talking about Odile, the bitch . . .

"Lili, go take a look back there . . . quick! go tell her to come here this minute! . . . tell her I've counted the kids . . . tell her I can't keep up . . . tell her I can't go looking for food . . . I'm afraid . . ."

Felipe's there . . . a little further on . . . lying under his tarp, at least three four layers . . . he's not moving . . . Lili doesn't wait to be asked twice . . . fact, she's younger than me, a lot younger, but she could be tired . . . she's got no right to be tired! . . . quick! . . . quick! . . . she should go and shake up this Odile! . . . and bring her back! . . . the lazy bitch! . . .

I don't look . . . I close my eyes . . . but I'm not asleep . . .

I'm thinking . . . wondering what we're looking for . . . a grocery store? . . . a pharmacy? . . . a bakery? . . . I'm not very confident . . . it's bound to be worse than Berlin . . . Harras had told us . . . those runaway prostitutes . . . said they wouldn't find anything in Hamburg, the whole place had burned down . . . all the same, as long as we'd got this far, we'd go see . . . but what was keeping Lili so long? . . .

I felt my ear being twisted . . . a little hand . . . and then a nose . . . at least four of them were pulling my hair . . . the kids having fun . . . I could frighten them . . . they'd run away and I'd have to catch them . . . hey, what is this? . . . they're pissing on me . . . one . . . two . . . at least three . . . that's what comes of procrastination! . . . I sit up! . . . I go:
boo!
. . . makes them laugh . . . no authority, I see . . . I see Lili too . . . there she is! . . . high time!

"What about Odile?"

"She can't move!"

"And who are these characters?"

I see four little gnomes, even sicklier than ours, and just as snotty drooly as our little tarp and wool packages, but the difference is they're laughing . . . ours never laughed much . . . these four seem to be full of beans . . .

"Where'd they come from?"

"They were with Odile . . . she sent them . . . to you!"

Right then there was no door . . . I'm telling you about Hamburg . . . I could walk right in with my gang of slobbermouths . . . the tar wasn't burning any more, but it was still soft. . . you didn't sink in very deep, but deep enough, you had to watch your step . . . sure to be still hotter in town where the explosions were coming from . . . boiling . . . better keep away . . . but what about our rations? . . . we wouldn't go far . . . only where it looked possible . . . just the other side of the little canal . . . Hamburg's all full of little canals, something like Venice . . . this one was practically full up with rubble . . . but only in places . . . it was possible to cross . . . "courage, ye blockheads! this way!" . . . I still hadn't counted them . . . they cross over ahead of us . . .us is Lili and Bébert in his bag, Felipe with his tarp on his head, and me staggering . . . more ruins, the wreckage of a whole street, heaps of everything like in Berlin . . . but here it's hotter, I think . . . heaps, I said, more like mountains! . . . that one over there is enormous, this high, this wide . . . as big as from La Trinité to Place Blanche . . . there must be whole neighborhoods under there, buildings and people . . . which naturally accounts for the smell . . . the smells I should say . . . we sit down . . . say, that's something! . . . a mountain as high as the one in Lüneburg . . . remember? . . . the one I saw my first locomotive on top of . . . we take a little rest . . . all of a sudden an idea! . . . "our kids! our snotnose bundles! . . . they've disappeared . . . Felipe! Lili! . . . where are the kids?" . . . they don't know . . . ah yes! Lili's seen them . . . they were playing, pushing each other around . . . on the other side of the mountain . . . I says to myself: sure as shit! they're in a hole . . . they had a thing about these holes . . . I'd noticed . . . their dodge was to disappear . . . bury themselves, two three at a time . . . the little monsters, the loonybin dropouts! . . . where can they be? . . . under a house? . . . "Lili! Felipe! . . . come on quick! we'll go look for them!" . . . crevasses and fissures . . . there's a big one, big enough for the lot of them to crawl into . . . bet they're at the end already . . . no use shouting, they wouldn't answer, they wouldn't know how . . . the deaf cretins! with all the padding they've got on they can easily squeeze through the holes, between the rocks and scrap metal . . . catacombs are just their meat . . . there must be everything in there . . . I've told you how high it was, from where we were standing to the summit as far as from La Trinité to Place Blanche . . . can you imagine! maybe the kids had been crushed . . . or suffocated . . . even in the open air, in the daylight their movements were jerky . . . they'd drag themselves out of one hole and flop into another . . . there in the total darkness I couldn't imagine . . . no use trying . . . how far we'd gone in this fissure . . . if the kids had disappeared and gotten themselves crushed and mangled, we'd go back to the train, what else could we do? . . . they'd escaped of their own free will! . . . Lili says: "the best way would be to let Bébert loose . . ." if there was a hole, that's where Bébert would go, when it came to disappearing he was worse than the kids . . . he'd run in hell-bent . . . and when he found what he was looking for, he'd miow . . . "let him loose!" . . . Lili puts him down on the ground . . . how'd those kids get through? . . . I'm wondering . . . for Bébert it was easy, off he goes . . . Lili calls him . . . he miows . . . a comfortable miow . . . Lili's satisfied, she follows him, one two three . . . on her knees, no trouble for her, she's an acrobat . . . not so easy for me, I'll never make it . . . say, I can do it! . . . on my knees! same as her . . . chin up, kid! . . . never say die! . . . damn! . . . this is clay! . . . I sing out . . . "I'm coming! . . . I'm coming!" Lili answers . . . we're all right . . . I'm getting ahead . . . on my elbows . . . with my elbows . . . I wouldn't have thought it possible . . . from outside you had no idea . . . the passage, I mean this crevasse we're in, broadens out . . . into a kind of corridor . . . not straight, all detours and zigzags . . . clay floor . . . not fragile and crumbly, my impression, but very wet and sticky . . . how'd this mountain get here? . . . hadn't seen any others like it in Hamburg . . . so high and enormous . . . of course everything was hidden by the smoke . . . and hollowed out like this . . . but I'm not a geologist . . . I sing out "Lili! . . . Lili! . . .". . .  "Yes! . . . yes! . . . come on!" Felipe's got something to say too . . .
"Dottore! Dottore!"
he hasn't lagged behind, he's right here in the tunnel . . . at this point it definitely smells of corpses . . . rats or people? . . . we'll see . . . maybe . . . quite an adventure, in a way . . . come to think of it, this hill is shaped like a bell . . . but how did it get here? maybe some secret weapon . . . there'd been talk about a secret weapon . . . that was going to wipe out England or some such rot . . . maybe it had boomeranged . . . or maybe a munitions dump had exploded . . . such things had been known to happen . . . anyway, an enormous mountain! . . . and nobody around to tell us how it got there . . . I've given you an idea of the height, from La Trinité to Place Blanche . . . we were moving ahead very cautiously, step by step . . . in kind of a half light that seeped in from overhead, the top of the crevasse . . . I shout: "any light where you are?" . . . "yes, yes, come on, plenty of light! . . ." how's that possible? . . . an above-ground grotto, so to speak . . . you get the idea . . . three four times as high as Notre Dame . . . further ahead I can see . . . I'm sure . . . it must be another fissure at the top . . . a crater, I mean . . . fissures are only in the sides . . . anyway, this mountain has holes all over . . . try and get the picture, a giant bell of fragile clay . . . actually more like a blister . . . an enormous clay bubble . . . other people must have seen it, why not? . . . some day they'll bear witness . . . the miracle was that it held up! . . . or we wouldn't have been there, groping our way . . . light wasn't the only thing that came in from up top, naturally it was raining too, the walls were dripping . . . nowadays there are speleologists that treat themselves to much more difficult descents every Sunday in the Alps, the Dolomites, and the High and Low Pyrenees . . . this cave of ours was nothing much, just sticky . . . of course the clay could have collapsed, the big bubble on top of us could have caved in . . . undoubtedly . . . but there for the moment we were getting ahead . . . I've told you what it was like, three four times the size of Notre Dame . . . the tunnel we'd taken, so narrow at the start, had opened out into a giant grotto . . . and what's more you could almost see . . . the light came from up top . . . the crater hole . . . the effect, I repeat, was like an enormous nave of solid clay . . . solid? . . . well, not so very . . . in my estimation those walls are pretty thin . . . but bell, blister, or shell . . . how'd it gotten there? . . . a tempest in the subsoil, an earthquake, an exploded munitions dump? . . . which had been known to happen . . . maybe there were more mountains . . . or blown-up bells . . . like this right here in Hamburg . . . I hadn't seen them, I couldn't see anything on account of the smoke . . . well, I think we'd come to the end of our crevasse . . . it stank of corpses all right . . . much worse than outside . . . I hadn't seen any dead animals, no rats, no dogs . . . as an epidemiologist, you see, I observe . . . first thing I do is observe . . . I was kind of surprised . . . outside we'd seen lots of bodies rolled in asphalt, like icing . . . and cooled . . . Harras had told us what to expect . . . not just whole bodies . . . separate limbs, especially feet . . . Hamburg had been destroyed with liquid phosphorus . . . the Pompeii deal . . . the whole place had caught fire, houses, streets, asphalt, and the people running in all directions . . . even the gulls on the roofs . . . the R.A.F. wasn't picky and choosy . . . they just unloaded! . . . on the roofs, basements, and open spaces! . . . don't let me lose you . . . there I was wondering why it smelled so strong of corpses . . . I sing out . . . Lili's there . . . and all our lopsided kids . . . all? . . . I'll count them later . . . and Felipe? . . . he's here too, he's caught up . . . they're looking . . . at something . . . blow me down, a surprise! . . . a grocery store! . . . flattened against the black wall, stuck in the clay . . . grocery store, I said, you get my drift:
Kolonialwaren
. . . how'd it get there? and what makes it stand up? . . . there's a sign, you can't go wrong! . . . magnificent gold lettering on a red background . . . and nothing dinky about it . . . long and wide! . . . I don't get it . . . Felipe looks . . . he gets it . . . "it was a grocery store,
dottore!
. . .
boom!
swallowed up! . . . see?" Felipe was right, he caught on before I did . . . a small pile of bricks . . . two piles . . . on part of a house . . . you visualize the cataclysm? . . . and don't think I'm exaggerating . . . if I tell you that tomorrow France will be all yellow by intermarriage, that all politics is idiotic, because all it gives you is harangues and a jumble of parties, in other words, hot air, that the only reality that counts is the secret, discreet, biological reality you can't see and can't hear, that white blood is the underdog, and the only thing whites can do, quick quick their last chance, is harness themselves . . . to jinrikishas or starve to death . . . don't tell me I'm exaggerating . . . but don't let me lose you! I was telling you about this giant vault and this spooky grocery store spilling its guts in the clay . . . I'm entitled to my blurred vision, it's my age, you can rectify . . . give me a hand, so to speak . . . not just a grocery store, a lot of other stores stuck in the clay . . . a wrecked restaurant and further on a tailor shop . . . stools and counters! . . . mashed! . . . outside there'd been corpses, in the harbor, on the railroad tracks . . . we'd seen them, but mostly limbs, rolled in asphalt . . . here in this grotto, under this clay bell I mean, the only corpse I'd seen was the grocer . . . no rats or other animals . . . but the smell was too pungent for one corpse, I know about these things . . . there had to be more! . . . but the kids? our pissy snotnoses . . . I'd lost sight of them! I ask Lili . . . Felipe knew, they'd gone into another fissure . . . every last one of them! . . . in the clay . . . hey, there it is again! . . . there! . . . the corpse . . . dead five six days, I'd say . . . cold in here, it hasn't fermented very much, but it stinks all the same . . . I go over . . . it's a storekeeper . . . sitting . . . at his cash desk . . . slumped forward . . . pharmacist? . . . grocer? . . . cash desk, I said . . . that's definite, the drawer's open, all full of paper marks . . . and a box full of food coupons . . . the box is open too . . . you see, I'm giving you all the details . . . but what interests me . . . is the cause of death . . . now I see! a fragment! his guts were hanging out . . . cut him open from hip to navel . . . disemboweled, in short . . . his intestines and epiploon on his knees . . . a fragment? from where? . . . Felipe catches on quicker than I do . . . he shows me . . . at the top of the roof . . . a breach . . . what I was calling the crater . . .
boom!
Dottore!
an aerial bomb, direct hit! . . . that's where it came in! . . . and, just as he says,
boom!
. . . right on the store, the stores, and the pharmacist . . . or the grocer . . . I couldn't tell which . . . anyway a cash drawer full of marks and ration coupons . . . this stiff stinks . . . the kids didn't stop, they're not interested in stiffs, their specialty is fissures . . . where are they crawling around now? . . . in this one? . . . that one? . . the lousy little drips! . . . better go see! . . . maybe they've fallen into a pit . . . I wouldn't put it past them . . . with all these crevasses . . . altogether a place I wouldn't recommend, to tourists, I mean, anyway that grotto isn't there any more . . . I've told you how high it was . . . and fragile . . . all clay . . . a phenomenon hard to imagine except in very unusual circumstances, a whole underground arsenal . . .
boom!
. . . the elements unchained, so to speak! . . . but what about my slobbering screwballs? . . . and Bébert? is he gone too? . . . I wasn't naturally so weak in the head, but now, I admit, I let go . . . fatigue, of course, you know all that, and my accident . . . I won't start on the brick again . . . you've had it! . . . first the brats! . . . Lili calls them . . . Bébert answers . . .
miow!
and here he comes . . . on the other side, a different opening . . . I've told you that bell, grotto, blister, anything you say, was full of surprises . . .
miow!
I bet he's been to the end and back . . . now what? . . . these sticky dripping walls . . . but it seems to lead someplace . . . I haven't got my sticks any more . . . Felipe, I see, hasn't got his tarp, left it at the entrance . . . he couldn't have . . . it's better this way . . . I could have stayed at the entrance too! . . . shit! . . . let them figure it out! . . . and this guy with his guts all over the place . . . grocer? . . . pharmacist? . . . I don't know . . . my ears are on the blink . . . I'm collapsing and that's that . . . they can do what they please . . . I'm telling you just the way it happened.