H. Adler - The Wall

I rang the doorbell of the villa; a sweet servant girl opened the door and led me, as I told her my name, immediately to the salon. The couple arrived soon after, greeted me, and asked me to have a seat. Frau Singule didn’t waste any time, and seemed very pleased to see me again. She was only disappointed that I had not brought along Johanna, and was taken aback when I said that my wife had not been invited, so I couldn’t after all bring her along. Invitations, I was told, are always meant for both members of a married couple, especially in the case of such a delightful woman.

“A charming little person, your wife. From the best of families — one notices it immediately upon meeting her. I’ve known her for some years. One can only wish her all happiness. Tell me, Herr Landau, she does indeed make you happy, right?”

“One never really knows such things, madam.”

“Oh, of course you know. You should know it, especially as a newly married man. And isn’t it true that the children are not much of a burden to you, either?”

“Madam, I only regret that I didn’t bring her with me.”

“You should regret it. Every moment is lost in which such a treasure is forsaken. Her refinement is written all over her face.”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s good that you agree, and that’s why you should not say anything wrong about such an angel. I know what she did for work. She gave it her all, but was always friendly, always pleasant. When the war was over, I went to her on behalf of my husband. How she put herself out to find any trace of my brother-in-law! Did she never tell you?”

“No, madam.”

“What, she never told you how desperately we wished to find out what had happened to my brother-in-law, Dr. Berthold Singule, the lawyer? I find that strange!”

“No, she really didn’t.”

“She didn’t say a word, but how hard she tried! Nothing but humility, especially if she didn’t say anything! She went down a hundred different paths for us, calling every Tom, Dick, and Harry she could think of, as one says, and lots more. She did nothing less than move heaven and earth. And she never told you that?”

“No, madam.”

“Well, then! But that’s so dignified of her, one sees that — such discretion, and then, because she doesn’t wish to bother anyone, not even her own husband!”

“I only know what she did in general.”

“Yes, that’s what I said! She’s so refined! She spares her husband such things! And that’s why one shouldn’t burden her. She’s had enough trouble already. Perhaps you don’t know, but not only did her parents die over there; she also lost a brother here. Such misfortune — both brothers!”

“I know, madam.”

“Good that you at least know that. But to have to carry such responsibility, how terrible! You must be thinking about it all the time. You should create a paradise on earth for her!”

“That’s hard to do, very hard.”

“Of course it’s hard. Why shouldn’t it be? Nothing comes from nothing. Which is why you have to work for it. What you want is what you get.”

“Do you think so?”

“And do I! But you just have to work for it.”

“That’s true, but one also needs help.”

“We’re here for that — myself and, above all, my husband. If he only had time. He never has time. He’s already left again just now. It’s terrible!”

“So I won’t have a chance to meet him?”

“Just because you don’t know him, don’t worry! He’ll stand by what he promised. He’s only gone off a short ways. Just a couple houses down. He knows that you’re coming. He’ll receive you. Certainly. I have promised Frau Haarburger that it would happen. How lucky to have such a friend! She adores you! And Dr. Haarburger as well. The talent you have. You’re indeed a self-made man. You would agree. And then there’s my husband. He’s so mellow and ready for anything. Only one can’t do it all. Which is why I always advise, you should arrange something practical.”

“But you believe—”

“Of course, if only he can. Just imagine what is asked of him. He simply can’t do everything.”

“But you see possibilities?”

“Certainly, Herr Landau. There are possibilities. One only has to find them. But normally it’s hard to, and then everything is in vain. I tell you — It looks like my husband is here. Indeed he is, or would seem to be. E-du-ard. E-du-ard! Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here, Klara.”

I was greeted courteously.

“How happy I am to make your acquaintance, Dr. Singule.”

“Singule, just Singule, Herr Landau. I am indeed a doctor, but it’s not customary to use it here. Just the last name.”

“I’ve been told that’s the way to address doctors. And you are indeed a doctor of medicine?”

“Correct, but I don’t practice it. I’m a biologist — particularly bugs, vermin. Unfortunately, I have too little time for it. I have too many other responsibilities.”

“But it’s your main interest?”

“Actually, yes. I’m really fascinated by mites. Do you know anything about them?”

“Only from what I’ve heard, Doctor.”

“Please, Singule! Make a note of it! There are as many doctors as there is sand at the beach, but we are the only Singules in the city. The name was never that common, and today it has almost disappeared.”

“You two need to talk shop. Wouldn’t it be best, Eduard, if you took Herr Landau across the way. You both have a lot to talk about, and I’ll arrange for some tea for you.”

Herr Singule agreed, and I followed him to his study. For some minutes, the conversation ranged through different subjects; I didn’t have the nerve or the drive to turn the talk to my concerns. So the talk flowed on until the biologist surprised me with an unexpected question.

“Tell me, are you from Latvia, perhaps Riga?”

“No.”

“Too bad. You should be from Latvia.”

“Is it because of my accent?”

“It has nothing to do with your accent. I need someone from Latvia.”

“To my great sadness, I have never been there.”

“And your wife?”

“She’s from Vienna.”

“That’s too bad. That doesn’t help us at all.”

“Why does it have to be Latvia, Herr Singule?”

“I need someone from Latvia. Your parents, your ancestors, anyone in the family?”

“None from Latvia.”

“I had hoped for that especially for you, Herr Landau. It would have done well by you. I have something to give to someone from Latvia. A terrific assignment that will last at least a year, and with the possibility of an extension.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You don’t even need to know the language. Just Latvia.”

“How nice of you to think of me.”

“One tries, my friend, one tries the best one can.”

“But hopefully you might find something else for me. I’m working, as perhaps you’ve already heard, primarily on a sociology of—”

“My wife already told me everything, as well as Haarburger. I’m well informed.”

“Good. And therefore I wondered if there might not be a way to consider a proposal—”

“You can make a proposal anytime. You’re completely free to do so. You don’t even have to come to my office; I can give you the form right now.”

“Thank you. And might I expect, if you recommend it, that I—”

“You didn’t let me finish talking. The form and the proposal don’t do anything for you. Nor can I recommend anything, even if I have the chance. And yet it must be approved, and there’s the rub.”

“Don’t you decide?”

“Oh, I decide a great deal. Without me, no one in Europe gets anything. But I have to be able to answer for it, and I cannot decide everything. My dear friend, what are you thinking? I’m a poor man; the money doesn’t come from my pockets. Yes, if you were from Latvia that would be fine, for then I have something, then I can do something. But alas!”