Rigadoon (27 page)

"Now where are we going?"

I had no idea . . . those two old fogies on the diesel must have known . . . in an hour . . . maybe two . . . I'd ask them . . I didn't want to question them right away . . . in the first place I didn't have the strength . . . besides, I couldn't ask them in this bacchanal of rails, flatcars, shocks, and chains . . . I'd have had to bellow . . . I hadn't the strength . . .

"After a while, Lili, when we stop! I'll ask them when we stop . . ."

This hardware train has got to stop some time, I think . . . I wasn't sure . . . these two old geezers . . . so rude . . . look perfectly capable of not stopping at all . . .1 was pretty vague about the future . . . nobody left but Lili and me . . . no more Harras . . . no more Restif . . . no more Le Vig . . . even Felipe was gone, him and his brick . . . he hadn't been with us very long . . . Odile didn't count . . . just time enough to palm her kids off on us . . . come to think of it, how many were there? . . . of these loonybin dropouts . . . I wasn't going to look under the tarps . . . later . . . at least twelve . . . fifteen . . . it seemed to me . . . but what about this Felipe? . . . I couldn't get him out of my mind . . . him and his brick . . . maybe I'd accused him unjustly . . . but if you accuse indiscriminately there's always a chance of guessing right . . . hit or miss, grope and find . . . a rather curious principle . . . all miscarriages of justice, all unwarranted decapitations were irrefutable at the time . . . flawless hand-stitched verdicts . . . there I go, off the beam again . . . I'll never have any of those ideas, good for three four gilt-edged idiocies a line, that make a man feel like a fucking prodigy, a prophet without equal, convinced that nobody existed before him and that after him it'll be a lot worse, back to zero, the robots on the blink and all the cafes jerking off dry . . . for my part, asepticized by ten thousand hatreds, I'm confident that I'll never infect anybody, not even long after my demise, my humble contribution to the worms, my only sincere admirers . . . hey there! . . . I'm running wild! . . . each thing in its time! . . . I'm supposed to be telling you about that flatcar . . . you'll say: that'll do! . . . you'll be right . . . at least ten . . . twenty times I've told you . . . about our rather peculiar kind of tourism in tunnels and in the open air . . . here for instance it's flat country, practically no grass . . . the sea can't be far off . . . gulls overhead . . . kind of like Zornhof. Say, what about the von Leidens? . . . the Russians must be there now . . . curses, back to business if you please! . . . my compass here . . . I always wore it on a chain . . . so nobody could fool me . . . north! . . . north! . . . north! . . . here I keep it on my desk, all rusty, a souvenir . . . I'd had somebody smuggle it in from Switzerland, to cross the Swiss border with . . . just then we were tempted by tourism, though we're not the traveling kind . . . but somebody's always trying to make us move out . . . impossible vermin that contaminate the air . . . me, who never says a word, never shows myself, never receives any visitors . . . oh, of course it doesn't matter, when you get to a certain turn in the road nothing matters except fun and the cemetery . . . in any case we're definitely going north . . . due north and pretty fast . . . we've been moving at least an hour . . . it's coming on nightfall . . . seems to me the kids need something to drink, all they've had is milk, they're sleeping but they'll wake up . . . and we haven't got any water . . . maybe on the other flatcars? . . . I'm wondering . . . or in the locomotive? . . . not far, we're right next to it . . . but I don't see our two doddering engineers . . . maybe they've bedded down somewhere after starting their engine . . . possible! one thing's for sure, they're not paying any attention to us . . . the sky isn't paying any attention to us either . . . lucky for us! two three purrs in the distance, way high up, and that's all . . . not Germans, no more Krauts in the sky . . . at this rate, I've studied the maps enough, we can't be far from the famous "Kiel-North Sea" canal . . . I tell Lili . . . "it'll be fun up there!" . . . she doesn't get it. . . but I knew, I'd been through that canal a lot of times, ship's doctor looking after the emigrants . . . the Havre-Danzig-Leningrad line . . . small freighters and a couple of pretty big ones, the
Kansas
, the
Columbia
, those ships must be on the bottom by now . . . anyway I knew that canal, no joke, especially the wind! freezing cold from one sea to the other, even in summer, between its giant walls, rocks and stunted pines . . . you were glad to get out . . . bridges and footbridges higher than about the first story of the Eiffel Tower . . . which gives you an idea of the grandiose achievement, the prestige it gave Wil-helm's Empire . . . of course that Empire had other marvels to show . . . right now at the moment I'd have liked a drink of water . . . the kids too, I think . . . we had a whole tarp full of stuff to eat, but the only liquid I could see was those little bottles . . . with labels . . . containing what? you won't catch me sampling them . . . from the pharmacy or grocery store . . . I'll ask the old men on the diesel . . . maybe they'd like a try . . . it was booze, I was pretty sure, but I'd have to see them . . . they must have stashed themselves away somewhere, maybe they're sleeping too . . . we were going slower now, a lot slower . . . maybe we're arriving someplace . . . right! . . . an upgrade . . . this must be it . . . the whole shebang stops . . . the locomotive and our flatcar and the rest of them, the whole string . . . it's pretty near dark . . . nobody gets off the other cars . . . they're stayed in Hamburg . . . those men and women . . . where'd they come from? . . . I never found out . . . all I know is that we're all alone, Lili and me and the kids . . . and all this military bric-a-brac . . . heading north . . . north, but where? I don't know, I'll ask . . . it's not completely dark . . . kind of gray . . . on account of the searchlights in the distance, I think . . . light enough to see that our two old palookas have gotten down off their diesel and are groping along our platform, along the edge . . .

"Nun?
. . . well? . . .
Wasser
. . . water . . ."

I ask them.

"Da! . . . da!"

They answer . . . the water's further down! down where? . . . I get down to look, not alone, with Lili and Bébert . . . and naturally the kids too . . . they all drag themselves out of the tarps and climb down . . . they're on the roadbed before we are . . . I'd seen them crawling along like sleepy cockroaches, now they were almost nimble . . . adventure's the thing for kids, goofy or not, they come to life, ready to tear the house apart! . . . you, old man panting on the ragged edge, you've got situations, itineraries to worry about, your hard luck! these kids are on the roadbed, I've told you that . . . the water isn't far away, about a hundred yards down the tracks . . . an enormous tub . . . the kids get there first . . . they stick their heads right into it and drink . . . hell, we'll do the same! . . . Bébert doesn't want any, he's not thirsty . . . I ask our two old geezers if we're pulling right out . . . not for a while! got to wait for the alert to be over! . . . we hadn't heard a thing, Lili hadn't and neither had I . . . but what's this here? . . . the
Kanal
bridge! . . . oh, I'd suspected we were getting there . . . and here we are! . . . I want to make sure, it must be over there, just a few steps . . . right! . . . empty space and a lot of iron girders and arches, this is it all right, it's the canal. . . they weren't lying . . . way at the bottom of the darkness, the empty space, the ditch, let's say . . . two three blinking lights . . . maybe ten . . . battleships? . . . I don't think so . . . ah, now I know . . . I don't need anybody to tell me . . .
Unterseebooten!
submarines! . . . I know all about ships and navies . . . no! not all, but something . . . anyway, I know this canal, I've been through it eight times . . . ten times . . . from end to end . . .

I ask our old men! . . . they agree . . . those lights come from submarines . . . waiting for permission to enter the North Sea . . . but what about our train? . . . are we waiting for signals too? . . . exactly! . . . all clear! . . . got to wait! . . . the sirens . . . I don't hear any planes at all . . . this canal is certainly a good place to bomb . . . but why would they come running at this particular moment, after four years of war . . . they'll need it themselves soon for their own shipping . . . if they win . . . I wasn't going to tell these old-timers what I was thinking . . . in the first place they were busy . . . especially one of them, who wasn't quite as old as the other . . . he'd decided to shave . . . right then and there! . . . take advantage of the alert and the big tub of water . . . he'd brought all he needed, a
torch
, a little mirror, two cakes of soap . . . I saw where the water came from, a big droopy canvas pipe, same as here in our garden . . . no skin off our ass! we'd all finished drinking . . . he'd hung his mirror on a nail . . . on our flatcar . . . the kids and us, we're all watching him, he's lathering his face . . . just then flares, green ones! . . . from all directions, every cloud . . . you know, signal flares . . . then the usual . . . white ones . . . and then bombs . . . you're lucky if you've never been through it . . . I don't remember how many times it happened to us . . . our comic drama . . . Montmartre . . . Sartrouville . . . Saint-Jean d'Angély . . . Frankfurt . . . etc.  . . . Berlin . . . even here in Meudon twenty-five years later I've got a crater, an extremely treacherous hole, right outside the garden gate, and all the neighbors say it's me and it's high time I was thrown out of the neighborhood and petition the Prefecture to do something about it! . . . oh, I'm not joking, it's no news to me that Attila was small beer, him and his grass that would never grow again . . . with me it's craters, wherever I go! . . . wherever I turn up, everything rots, soil, flora, fauna . . . one look at me and the human race loses all desire to eat, drink, and sleep . . . the sad truth! . . . and to think that this extremely treacherous crater just outside my garden gate comes from the bombing of the Renault factory . . . I know, I saw it with my own eyes, we were up in Montmartre, corner of rue Girardon to be precise, not the end of the world! . . . a thousand years from now all the whites of this earth will be a deep yellow . . . "Super-Brazilias" . . . but that won't stop them from blaming every crater on Mars, the moon, or the Little Dipper on me! . . . I'm ready! . . . forewarned! . . .

Oh, I don't doubt it for a moment! where am I taking you? . . . we were up above . . . remember? . . . the Kiel Canal . . . almost vertical . . . that canal with its enormous high banks, rocks, and grass . . . one of the ancient engineers was shaving, remember? . . . we'd all drunk out of the tub . . . he . . . I'm filling you in . . . was just starting to shave . . . he can see . . . but just barely . . . thanks to his
torch
and his little mirror . . . hung up on our flatcar . . .
bim bam!
all of a sudden we can see fine! . . . broader than daylight! . . . the prelude to the scrunch! . . . same as in Montmartre or Berlin . . . or Zornhof . . . we knew . . . not much time to think . . .
wham!
there she goes! the bridge is moving, I think . . . rising into the air . . . and falling back down! . . . and the tub of water! . . . and the old man shaving right on top of it! . . . carried away! . . . flung through the air, I can still see him . . . with his open razor . . . wide open! and the tub! the whole works! into the ditch! . . . I won't go looking right now . . . carried away, the blast from a whole string of bombs . . . ten . . . fifteen of them . . . we were a yard away . . . no more than a yard . . . he must be down at the bottom by now . . . I think . . . I'm not going to investigate . . . I've told you how high it was . . . that plunge . . . about as high as the first floor of the Eiffel Tower . . . not the first time . . . at least our tenth narrow squeak! . . . but not from so high . . . pretty lucky! . . . but don't crow too soon! there's always a next time, they're just keeping it in reserve! I know, some people are optimistic, and some that are no better than I am are always lucky . . . they have their health, fortune smiles on them . . . in their shoes I wouldn't be too sure! . . . even with my character, suspicious, pessimistic to the hilt, I'm snarled up in every known calamity! . . . but as I was telling you, we had these two engineers . . . the one that's left is every bit as old as the other . . . he shouts in my ear "got to go back down!" . . . down where we came from, he means . . . not I! nothing doing! . . . too weak, we've struggled enough! but what about the kids? where are they? say, they've gone out on the bridge! for the hell of it! . . . with
boom! wham!
explosions all over the place! . . . it's not a
Blitz
, they're not dive-bombing like the Krauts, they're way high up, above the clouds . . . these kids of ours aren't afraid, they can't hear a thing, they're enjoying themselves . . . I think it must be a squadron of "fortresses" up there . . . come to destroy the bridge or the canal or the submarines . . . all three, I guess . . . the kids aren't scared at all, they're running, well, trying to run, at every enormous
boom
they collapse, all in a heap! . . . some of them must have fallen into the canal . . . everything makes them laugh . . . except the ones that fall . . . I can see they're improving, all the way from Breslau . . . every air raid . . . they've been improving, nothing else to do . . . no wonder their Odile was fed up . . . no feeling for children . . . but Hamburg, I ask you, the "fortresses" must have gone back . . . and that flimsy wooden station! so there we are, right next to the tub . . . I'm shouting . . . telling them what to do . . . first catch our little creeps . . . they'll be blown into the canal! . . . the old man thinks so too . . . he says he'll go after the kids with us . . . but first he asks us for something to drink . . . not water out of the tub, something else! . . . he's fastidious! . . . fine time to be fastidious! . . .
boom! crash!
a whole arsenal they're dropping on us! the banks of the canal and the high walls are all lit up with the bursts . . . red and green . . . and rivers of magnesium! no visibility trouble, it's dazzling . . . both banks! . . . and the ramparts on top! . . . the prettiest part is the explosions, the bombs bursting like enormous flowers . . . green red blue . . . against the stone of the ramparts on both sides . . . opening downward and across the canal . . . red blue and green . . . flowers thirty feet wide . . . at least . . . hard to believe if you haven't seen it . . . I can't make you hear the
booms!
. . . especially, you can imagine, the echoes between those high walls . . . the old-timer is willing to help us round up our little cretins and maybe the other engineer, but first he wants a drink, and not out of the tub! . . . something else! . . . he knows we've got it! . . . sure we've got it! . . . a whole tarp full . . . but of what? . . . rum or medicine? or vitriol? . . . I couldn't say . . . pharmacist or grocer? . . . I'm still wondering . . . in any case we'd seen him at his cash desk, completely disemboweled, with his guts hanging out! . . . he hadn't smelled so bad because of the cold . . . the question of those bottles was more serious, maybe it was carbolic acid . . . it all depended, I never found out . . . I hadn't tasted it . . . hell, let him risk it! . . . there was a corkscrew! . . . two in fact! . . . okay! . . . you could see fine, I've told you, better than broad daylight . . . they weren't trying to save on magnesium . . . the flares were falling in rivers! this old engineer, I don't mind telling you, wasn't too steady on his pins . . . he tried to stand, but at every
boom
he staggered and lurched, I expected him to fly away like his buddy . . . not at all! he's as steady as a rock . . . bomb or no bombs! . . . if the R.A.F. had been after the bridge, they'd have demolished it long ago, it wouldn't be there . . . no, it's got to be the submarines . . . which would take some doing, they're strung out all along the canal . . . I know that canal, I've told you, exactly sixty-two miles long . . . I risk it on all fours, I crawl to the bridge ramp . . . Lili cornes with me . . . from there we can see that both banks and the ramparts are in bloom . . . the bomb bursts . . . violet . . . red . . . and yellow . . . a spectacle we'll never see again . . . like the big maneuvers of 1913, the whole cavalry, light, heavy, and dragoons . . . deployed in extended order . . . and charges! . . . forty, fifty squadrons . . . the Cercottes camp in 1913, you've either seen it or you haven't, and that's that . . .

Getting lost again! back to business! . . . I was telling you that this bridge was shivering, I'd even say trembling! . . . and that bridge was no fluff, a giant structure of girders and arches . . . it didn't seem possible . . . but it was! . . . just from the blast! . . . a regular jig! and us out there enjoying the view of those flowering bombs! . . . violet! red! yellow! . . . at the bottom of the chasm . . . in the canal for sure! some punishment those subs must be taking! . . . and talk about whirlwinds . . . give you the staggers! . . . but what about our little slobberpusses? . . . every reason to worry . . . maybe they'd crossed the bridge, maybe they were playing on the other side . . . the trouble with those kids wasn't just that they were deaf but that nothing scared them, they were used to bombs and thunders, they'd been through it not once but a hundred times . . . as a matter of fact . . . they hadn't crossed over! . . . there they were on the bridge, I could see them, playing tag, catching, flopping, catching again, trying to push each other off . . . the explosions didn't bother them at all . . . I'd never seen them so gay . . . playing tricks, tripping each other up . . . I couldn't go any further, neither could Lili . . . and besides, you should have seen the way the bridge was jumping . . . so were the rails and our flatcars . . . and
bam!
. . . coming down again! . . . the whole thing was like a roller coaster . . . naturally we're deaf . . . like the kids . . . from the explosions, the hurricanes of bombs . . . more than anybody's ears can take, or his head . . . or my head, you can imagine! I won't start on that again, or the brick either . . . I can still see that other engineer flying into the canal . . . with his open razor! . . . he was going to shave . . . the one that's left isn't coming . . . he'd promised . . . he's rummaging for a bottle . . . on his knees in our tarp . . . I call him . . . hey! . . .
hier!
. . . he shows me he's got it! he holds it up . . . a big bottle . . . two! . . . three! . . . "okay, so come on!" . . .
crash! bang!
no, he doesn't want to! he's making motions . . . to tell me the bridge is shaking too much . . . what about us? I suppose we're having a picnic! . . . and our little slobberpusses out there playing, mightn't they be afraid? our one and only engineer isn't just jittery-shitless, the brute is completely stinko . . . he must have found some kirsch . . . I think we had some in our tarp . . . Christ, the stuff we've toted! and the trouble we've had! I'm not going to moralize, but it's always the trouble you take that turns against you . . . you think you've done a good deed, you've only damned yourself for life! . . . take a look around, the lousiest crummiest disloyal charlatan traitors have no trouble at all covering themselves with gold and honors . . .
wham! boom!
they're interrupting me! . . . I'm not here to meditate . . . I'm here to get on with my travels . . . northward, my hobby! but first find our gang . . . our little creeps! . . .
click! crack!
. . .
ptim!
. . . brittle sounds . . . bomb fragments striking iron . . . the first I've heard . . . they'd been bursting lower down up to now . . . if they were trying to squash the bridge, they'd have done it by now . . . it must be the subs down below . . . from end to end of the canal . . . North Sea-Baltic . . . I've told you, sixty-three miles! . . . anyway, no mistake, it's hailing on the bridge spans . . . and the blasts! . . . gales and counter-gales, so bad that even stretched out flat you couldn't dream of raising your head . . . or even opening an eye! . . . you just had to wait . . . it would pass, everything passes . . . we'd risked it this far, but kids or no kids we couldn't go out on the ramp . . . not even on all fours . . . beyond the tub . . . beyond the tub you'd be blown away! . . . I'd gone through this canal from east to west and back any number of times, and I knew . . . all you could do was lie on your belly until the flares went out . . . after that they'd stop bombing . . . naturally . . . and head for home chop-chop to reload! . . . took them at least five six hours to fill up on bombs and whiskey . . . we'd pretty well gotten the hang of their raids and habits . . . they'd come in all fire and flame . . . a wave! two waves! . . . volley and thunder! . . . and then
fsss!
nothing! . . . no more light, not a flare! . . . darkness, black night . . . this was the time to run for it! but our engineer, the second one, maybe he'd flown away like his buddy . . . I turn around! I call him . . .
heil! heil!
. . . he's got to answer me, even if he's drunk . . .
los! los!
. . . he's heard me . . . let's get going! . . . all right with him! . . . he gets the drift! . . . he's willing to make a run for it! . . . but our little cretins? . . . if one of them's missing, I'll never know it, I haven't counted them . . . hell, the way they're pounding us . . . this hail of phosphorus . . . and the tornadoes, you can't expect me to take a census! . . . let's say twelve or fifteen . . . girls or boys? . . . it's completely dark now . . . if only they'd come back . . . cross the bridge . . . at least that'll prove we can do it, that maybe the train can get across, that the tracks are still there . . . for a moment the superstructure, the enormous girders, had bent and twisted, we'd feared the worst . . . not at all! . . . here come our kids, looks like they've had a good time . . . happy as larks! . . . it's pitch-dark . . . I feel one, two of them . . . maybe a couple had flown away . . . they had no way of telling me . . . our first engineer . . . I'd seen him flying through the air with his razor . . . I hadn't seen any kids . . . the second engineer was there . . .
los! los!
I yell at him . . . he should get his diesel started . . . I can't see him, but I'm sure he's dead drunk . . . he must have had quite a party with our bottles . . . he comes up close, he says something right under my nose, he stinks something terrible . . . he doesn't know what he's saying . . . gobbledygook in German . . . the main thing is he should start up . . . and quick! . . . and the kids should climb on! and Lili and me and Bébert . . . not so easy . . . luckily the drunk is pottering with his handles, his diesel . . . hard time hoisting myself up on our flatcar . . . I'm not trying to make you weep for me, I'm just telling you . . . ah, I've made it! . . . the kids too! . . . there! . . . there! . . . we all settle down between the dynamos, in the folds of the tarp . . . anyway I think so . . . one thing's for sure, it's not so dark any more . . . it must be coming on dawn . . .
pom! pom! pom!
the drunk has got his diesel going . . . hurray! . . .
los! los! heil!
. . . he answers with the same . . .
es geht?
. . . everything okay? . . . and now, full speed ahead! . . . if the bridge collapses, we'll know it in due time! . . . just to give you an idea of our morale . . . let's go! . . . the bridge doesn't collapse at all . . . but it buckles . . . up hill and down dale . . . "scenic railway" effect . . . the drunk isn't worried, anything but! . . .
heil! heil!
he bellows . . . me, I'm dog-tired and sober, but I don't want to seem down in the mouth, I wouldn't want anybody to think I'm dissatisfied or scared . . . our flatcar, I've told you, is going up and down . . . up hill and down dale . . . "roller coaster" effect . . . this bridge hadn't looked flexible . . . but it is! . . . it is! like rubber! . . . we're undulating . . . it could perfectly well snap and collapse . . . I could take a look down below, at the canal, see if the subs are still there . . . they put on red lights . . . no! . . . no trimmings! we're getting ahead and that's enough! . . . anyway, I think so . . . up hill and down dale . . . all this tin, I mean the superstructure, the enormous spans could perfectly well crack . . . split . . . we'd topple into the void like whosis with his razor, then we'd get a first-hand view of the submarines . . . and plenty to drink . . . the whole canal . . . wouldn't that be a scream! oh, my head! . . . I'm laughing again, I can't stop it . . . a fit! . . .
heil! heil!
. . . I only hope our old-timer doesn't fall asleep, the only one we've got left . . . he should step on it! give her the gas! and get us across! . . . this bridge is certainly going to collapse! . . . say, this is the other side! we're here! he's made it! we've stopped undulating . . . our flatcar, I mean . . . we're on the level, so to speak . . . we're doing all right! rolling along . . .
pom!
. . .
pom!
. . . just a couple of jolts . . . and daylight . . . here all around us it's plains . . . yellow soil, yellower than Zornhof . . . and way in the distance two . . . three . . . farmhouses . . . I don't see our kids . . . they're under the tarps . . . are we really going north? . . . still got my compass, it's around my neck, nobody's going to fool me! . . . right, north it is! . . . and slightly east . . . pretty good! . . . I can't trust anybody . . . I'm feeling kind of funny, though . . . like laughing! . . . I tell Lili. . .