The maimed, p.7
The Maimed, page 7
Klara Porges’s footsteps approached from the hall. Kamilla leapt up. Frau Porges had brought a glass of schnapps for Kamilla. Kamilla offered it to Polzer. Polzer refused it silently.
“The bottle is empty,” said Frau Porges, laughing.
Polzer heard the apartment door being opened. Klara Porges showed Kamilla out. He heard her footsteps as she returned. Soon he heard the creak of the bed in the next room. Then it was quiet.
Polzer thought of getting up, knocking on Frau Porges’s door and asking her why she had done it. Today she had told Kamilla, tomorrow she would tell the head secretary, the student, the doctor, Karl. He could not see anyone anymore, he could not leave the building, could not go to the bank, to the river, or to the cafe. And tomorrow, which was Tuesday, he could not go to visit Karl. Karl would laugh. He could not bring her to see him. Karl could never hear of it. Karl would mock him. Karl had done good things for Polzer, but now he mocked him. Karl would not be able to control his laughter. Karl could not see Frau Porges. Polzer wondered how it would all end. How should it end? Should he tell the doctor about it, trust him, and flee? No one would understand, not even the doctor. Polzer would have to beg Frau Porges for mercy, ask for her sympathy. What had he done? It was not possible that she wanted to torture him like this. He wanted to knock on her door: Let it stop! Let it stop! She would approach him with a loose nightshirt and with her hair undone. Then she would take him by the hand, pull him into her bed, and press him to her naked body – no! It was all dark, soft flesh, and the incomprehensible, terrifying memory. No. It was better to leave, to go to an unfamiliar room, all alone. One does not know who is sleeping in the next room. One hears breathing. There are footsteps in the corridor. One cannot know all the people who live in a strange building where one is alone. Maybe they have keys to the apartment, keys to the cabinets. Maybe they are standing at the door. They listen and wait until they can hear from your breathing that you have fallen asleep. Many poor people had lost their lives because others thought they were wealthy, or simply because of hate.
It was completely silent in Polzer’s room. Not even the floorboards made a sound. Polzer did not dare move.
“Something is going to happen,” he thought.
Something was standing in the darkness and waiting. All of it had to end. There was something in the corner, waiting. Maybe it was a murderer with an ax. One never really knows the house where one lives.
Polzer listened carefully. Wasn’t there some sound? He heard that Frau Porges was not breathing. What was wrong with Frau Porges? Why wasn’t she breathing? It was so quiet. What was lurking? Something was going to happen.
Frau Porges was not surprised when Polzer asked her to accompany him to Karl Fanta’s. She seemed to have been expecting his request. On the way there, Polzer thought about how he should prepare her for the meeting. But he only began to speak when they had almost arrived at the building.
“He is very sick, Frau Porges,” he said, “and he is always somewhat agitated. He says very unusual things, very unusual things, Frau Porges. He is an invalid, and one must show him special consideration.”
“We shall see,” said Frau Porges.
“Yes, Frau Porges, we shall see. – He has nothing good to say about his wife, even though she does everything for him. He suffers a great deal. One must forgive him his faults, Frau Porges. He has strange ideas. Maybe these will be the first things he talks about, Frau Porges. One must show him special consideration.”
Frau Porges continued walking and did not answer. They were in front of the building.
“Just a minute, Frau Porges,” said Polzer. They stopped. “He might make an unusual request. He lives well, and has a beautiful apartment. The household is well-maintained. But he thinks he is being persecuted. He is a sick man, and one must show some compassion for him, Frau Porges. I have known him since we were boys. He and his father were always generous to me, and I owe them a great deal of gratitude.”
“What kind of request?” Frau Porges interrupted him.
“He thinks he is being persecuted and would like to move out.”
“And move in with me?”
“And move in with you, Frau Porges.”
Frau Porges thought for a moment.
“We shall see,” she said, and climbed the stairs.
Polzer followed her.
“If he does ask, it might be better not to refuse him right away,” he said quickly, after she had already rung the doorbell. “He is an unfortunate man, and one must show him special consideration.”
Dora opened the door. It seemed to Polzer that she must have been standing right behind it.
“How happy I am to see you,” she said, and took Frau Porges’s hand. Dora gave Frau Porges a searching look. “Come in. First the two of us will speak. We will leave the men alone. Please come with me.”
Franz Fanta emerged from his room. He greeted Polzer and Klara Porges. Polzer thought he looked paler than usual. His eyes seemed tired. Dora had noticed Polzer’s gaze. When Franz had left, she said:
“He is pale and looks unhealthy, doesn’t he, Herr Polzer?”
“It’s his age,” said Frau Porges.
“But he’s still young,” Dora said softly.
“But already quite mature for a boy,” Frau Porges responded, smiling. Dora blushed.
However, Frau Porges continued speaking. Polzer watched her lips with horror.
“It’s nothing to worry about. At that age boys do not sleep well. And God knows what he does to amuse himself.”
“No, Frau Porges,” said Polzer, and opened the door to Karl’s room.
Karl had heard their voices and was anxious.
“So,” he said, “where is she? I heard her voice. A calm, clear voice, don’t you think? One can tell that she is a strong woman, and not a little doll like my wife. Where is she, Polzer, where is she?”
“She’s with Dora.”
“With Dora! I understand. She needs to be prepared before she sees me. Isn’t my little wife clever, Polzer? She must be telling her that she should not take me seriously, that I am sick and that I have my moods. But I will foil her plans, old friend. Do you know the latest, Polzer? You won’t believe it. But first tell me honestly, Polzer, am I in my right mind or not?”
He looked at him furtively.
“Of course,” said Polzer.
“Of course! Of course!” He imitated Polzer’s voice. “Don’t be afraid to give me a straight answer! You won’t shock me, ha, ha, ha!”
“Please ...”
“Don’t say please, just give me a straight, concise answer! Am I in my right mind? Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
Karl Fanta made an effort to lean forward.
“She says I am crazy. She says the sickness has devoured my brain. She wants to destroy everything before it even begins. What I say is not to be believed. My desire to leave is the desire of a lunatic. Everything I hear and see takes place only in my poor, diseased imagination. Do you understand? How do I know this? I’ve suspected it for a long time. Everyone is always so careful around me. No one dares contradict what I say. They agree to everything. They’re constantly nodding their heads. Even you, yes, even you. Don’t deny it, she told you that I’m insane. Be quiet, I know she did. Aren’t you afraid of me, Polzer? I am insane! You believe whatever she tells you. Do you think I don’t know that she walked you down the stairs last week? That was when she complained to you. She had tears in her eyes, the poor woman, I know she did. ‘The poor man,’ she said,” he laughed as his head rocked back and forth. “Yes, even though I’m sitting here, I know a lot, much more than you think. I really am just a harmless lunatic. I can’t move. I can’t even lift my hand to punch you in the face for sitting there so politely, so obligingly, thinking to yourself: ‘one must let him have his say,’ you blackguard!” Polzer leapt up. “Stay seated!” yelled Karl Fanta. “I will call for help!” He turned his eyes anxiously to Franz Polzer and sank back into his chair with exhaustion.
Polzer sat down quickly. He moved uncomfortably in his chair.
“But Karl ...” he said timidly.
“Yes, yes, sing your sweet song, my boy. I know I am in my right mind. I see what I see and hear what I hear. When one can’t walk, one must have informers. And thank God for them. One doesn’t go crazy, old friend. Au contraire! One’s comprehension sharpens, one’s mind becomes clear. One can hear noises where people like you would think it’s as quiet as the grave. I know I am in my right mind, and I don’t care if you tell little Dora. Tell her everything I have said to you, that I am going to foil her childish plans, and that I know exactly where I stand with her, Polzer, she who suffers so much. This man is really horrible, you’re thinking, this man who makes her do such disgusting things. Yes. I am sweet as sugar when I speak to her, but I also need to have my little dance. If I screamed, Polzer, what do you think would happen? She would laugh at me! And yet? No, no, my little Dora obeys me like a girl from the street and never laughs at me. She cries when she is alone. And she fears me and tries to think of how she might free herself.”
“Dora is not trying to free herself from you,” said Polzer. “She wants to do whatever you ask. She wants to do it herself and doesn’t want to hire an attendant. It makes her unhappy that you want to leave here.”
“Is that what she told you? Polzer, Polzer, I know you’re not the brightest. I don’t want to hurt you. Maybe you have realized it yourself. Maybe in school, maybe later. You’re just a bit limited. Does it hurt you when I say this? I am being honest with you. You are a minor official in a bank, and that’s about as much as could have been expected of you. You probably know it yourself, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Polzer said softly.
“Then believe me, Polzer! Why doesn’t she want to hire an attendant? Because she loves me? Because the stink of my wounds doesn’t disgust her? Because she is my wife, and no one else should come between us? Ha, ha! Is that what she said? Do you see how clear my mind is? Let me tell you, many other people have come between us. She wants me to remain an object, that is why she doesn’t want an attendant. The way things are now, she can put me wherever she wants. As soon as I have an attendant I will have a will of my own. I will have myself put here, put there. I will send him to the door to see who has come to visit. I will have him send letters. He will see for me, he will hear for me, he will speak for me, and he will walk for me. Do you understand now, Polzer? Do you finally understand? And why doesn’t she want me to leave the house? Because she loves me? Because she would not be able to bear living without me, and would die of longing? Polzer, you poor, sweet child! Don’t believe her! Two things are at stake. Should I tell you what they are? But you think I’m crazy!”
“How can you think that, Karl?”
“I will tell you. But come closer, Polzer, come closer. Recently I have noticed that the boy has taken her side. Well, let him! People say that he has my face. But he doesn’t have my eyes. He has his mother’s eyes. I even think he might have hidden behind the door on one occasion. He gives me strange looks. He walks in and then walks right back out the door. It doesn’t really matter to me, Polzer. But I wanted to tell you why my baby doll would die of longing. First, because of other people. She has great respect for people. They would wonder what happened, shake their heads and talk about it. People would reproach her. She has a bad conscience. But that is not what is important. Now I will tell you what is. Once I said to her: ‘Dear Dora, my little dove,’ I said. That’s precisely how it occurred to me. ‘What a wretched life you have, my little dove! You are still young and beautiful, even if your body did suffer from giving birth. Your belly has become so flabby. But no one can notice this when you are dressed. And you have to live with me. I am no longer a man. No, no, Dora dear, my little angel, don’t say anything, I know it. I often think,’ I said, ‘that it is my duty to release you. To leave the house, to begin divorce proceedings. Then you can find a new husband who will play new games with you, not like the games I play. What kind of games are they for a young woman, letting someone stroke your breasts? Childish games. Maybe I will find a new wife, for whom such diversions are enough, an older woman with strong nerves, who will bear my sufferings in exchange for my money. She needn’t be beautiful or young, I no longer need such things, ha ha. Maybe an ugly woman would even be better for me – yes, I find beauty almost boring – a woman with two fat sagging breasts!’ She looked at me in horror. Then I understood everything. ‘You needn’t be afraid,’ I said. ‘You know best how much I love you, my little dove. You will be taken care of. You know my will, Dora dear.’ ‘Oh Karl,’ she said crying, ‘oh Karl!’ I was silent for a while, as though trying to think of something. Then I said slowly: ‘I am not thinking of changing my will. And you have certain rights that are guaranteed by law.’ Then she stopped crying and gave me a questioning look. Do you know the reason now? We don’t talk about it anymore, but she is thinking of my will. As long as I stay here, I can’t change it without her noticing. If I do, she will immediately have me declared insane. She is afraid because of the money. She thinks I will get a divorce if I leave the house. She remembers every word I said that time. Ha, ha, now you understand the connections! That is why she fears this widow. Now she is talking to her so she can prepare her, do you understand? But I am clever as she is. It will be of no use to her, my friend. – Do you understand now, Polzer? It is about money, Polzer, about money, and not the whims of some invalid. She will fight this battle with every possible means, until I am dead and she inherits my fortune, which, at that point, no power can snatch away from her. May God grant that it happens soon, she thinks. And if it doesn’t happen in the short run or the long run, why shouldn’t she do something to hurry it along? Of course she has an ally. And who will be surprised to learn that I am dead? People are surprised at the contrary. – But where are they, Polzer? I think they have had enough time. As fat as she is, her breasts must sag, even though she never had a child. Oh, what did I say, what tender feeling did I offend?” Karl Fanta mimicked the voice women use when speaking to young children. “Now my little child is blushing! How old is he? What is wrong with him ... ? Go, Polzer, go and see where your widow is.”
Klara Porges was sitting in Dora’s room. Dora had pulled a comfortable chair to the window for her. Frau Porges looked around and assessed the furnishings. On the tables lay covers of fine lace and exquisite porcelain figurines.
“Do you want to take off your jacket?” Dora asked.
Frau Porges smelled the soft aroma of atomized perfume.
“No,” she said brusquely.
Dora, who had risen to help her remove her jacket, recoiled. She gave Frau Porges a questioning look.
“She wants something from me,” thought Frau Porges.
She recognized some of Franz Fanta’s characteristics in Dora’s face. Why wasn’t Franz Fanta in the room? Was he ashamed of her in front of his mother?
“You don’t trust me?” Dora asked softly.
“Don’t trust you? Oh!” Frau Porges made a dismissive gesture. “I am looking at your furnishings. They are very beautiful. These tablecloths and the porcelain. Someone I know recently paid three hundred crowns for such a figurine. And it had a flaw. But these of course are flawless!”
Dora looked at the floor and said nothing.
“You are wearing very nice perfume, Frau Fanta. I never wear perfume. I always smell of laundry. It’s impossible to get rid of. It’s nice to be rich, ha ha.”
Dora’s shirt was visible through her housedress.
“These shirts, for example. No, no. Don’t they get torn in the wash? You must have a lover, if you wear such fine shirts. You can tell me, Frau Fanta.”
“Oh God,” said Dora, “how can you think that! If you knew how I suffer you would not speak to me like that, Frau Porges, no, certainly not.”
She put her head in her hands and sobbed.
Frau Porges rose and approached her.
“Oh no, now you’re crying, Frau Fanta. I really didn’t mean to offend you. I know that money isn’t everything. But don’t cry like that, Frau Fanta!”
“I know you didn’t mean to offend me,” said Dora, still crying. “I know that, Frau Porges. If you knew what it’s like ... not to be able to talk to anyone, not to be able to pour out your heart. Just Polzer. Polzer is the only one. He is a good person, isn’t he?”
“Yes, yes, but stop crying.”
“You love Polzer, don’t you Frau Porges? Tell me!”
“Oh,” said Frau Porges.
“No, please have trust in me and tell me.”
“He requires special treatment,” said Klara Porges.
“He is the only one I can tell everything, Frau Porges. He is good to me. If you knew how I suffer, how I am tormented. No, I will never be able to tell you. I would die of shame.”
She began to cry again.
Klara Porges put her hand on her shoulder.
Dora took Klara Porges’s hand.
“Will you help me, Frau Porges? He is the one who called for you. He will like you, Frau Porges.”
“He will like me?”
“Yes, he doesn’t like me anymore. I do everything he asks. If you only knew, Frau Porges. No one else would do it. But he says he wants strong women. He says I am too delicate.” She squeezed Klara Porges’s hand. “Will you help me?” she asked.
“We shall see,” said Klara Porges.
“Thank you,” Dora said, and bowed to kiss the widow’s hand. Klara Porges quickly pulled her hand away. Her face had become completely red.
“What are you doing?” she said. “That is not appropriate to your position. You are very upset, Frau Fanta!”
“No, no, you are good to me. I didn’t expect it, Frau Porges. He will try to use you against me. He wants to hire an attendant, did you know that? But it can’t happen, Frau Porges. He would torment me even more if he no longer needed me. He would tell people that I no longer wanted to put on his bandages, and that because of this he needed to hire someone. He wants to leave me, did you know that? He says that he wants to move in with Polzer. That’s why he wants to meet you. You have to help me, Frau Porges! He claims that I have lovers, and that’s why he wants to leave the house.”
