H. Adler - The Wall

I held my head in a bowed position and was quiet. Konirsch-Lenz was so completely convinced that he had made the right impression on me that he interpreted my posture to mean that I had agreed to it all.

“It’s good that you’re reconsidering. I know you’re sad. But that’s the way it is. Soon you’ll be thanking me, and feeling much differently — better, as happy as me.”

My patron looked kindly at me, almost candidly. I remained completely quiet, feeling weak with anger and suffering. By now I felt that all strength had drained from me, but, nonetheless, I suddenly felt pity for this man who had secured my trust and had now abused it so. I was ashamed for him, because he was so dumb, blind, and hard-nosed without realizing it.

“I know you intend all this in a friendly and sincere manner, but—”

“No buts, my dear Doctor, there can be no buts. I really do mean it in a friendly and sincere manner; there’s no lurking trapdoor. I know that you are clever. You can be convinced. You will indeed see, everything will work out. I ask you, then, do you want to come by tomorrow?”

“To your factory?”

“Yes.”

“Not at all!”

“Good. Let’s not waste another word on it! I’ve offered three times. Well, then, what else? You know that because of your lovely wife I want the best for you. I have a terrific idea. I have a good acquaintance at Self-Help who owes me, a Herr Scher. Is it Berthold Scher? You must have heard of him. No? Well, then, I will see to it, and you will soon hear from him. That’s a terrific idea!”

Herr Konirsch-Lenz was so taken with his terrific idea that he left me in peace and began to chat lightheartedly. There was no further opportunity to protest, because soon Frau Minna walked in to fetch us. Johanna wanted to head home. A stone fell away from my heart, and I breathed deeply and laughed out loud. This appeared to please my patron, for he praised my good humor and proceeded to inform his wife of the plan involving Self-Help and Herr Scher, which she found to be a “brilliant idea.” Then Johanna walked in with the three children behind her. Michael was cleaned up and ready to go home. I didn’t miss a chance to speed up our departure, and Johanna watched me fearfully from the side, concerned about my hurrying so. Frau Konirsch-Lenz loaded me up with a huge bouquet of flowers and a little packet she had done up for Johanna, Michael getting yet another toy at the end and whooping loudly, though I could see that he was tired. At last we shuffled toward the door, our hosts following us. Patricia and Petula yelled so loud that my ears hurt, but it didn’t bother me, for soon we would be free. The noise had the advantage that Herr Konirsch-Lenz didn’t worry about me but, rather, about his daughters. The door was already open; I thrust myself quickly through it as the first out and bowed again outside as goodbye. Johanna shook Frau Minna’s hand.

“Thank you so very much, Frau Minna, and you as well, Herr Konirsch-Lenz. It was a very lovely afternoon.”

Then, unfortunately, my patron had another terrific idea. He proposed — this, in fact, was a command — that his family accompany us to the bus stop. Although I politely declined, that was not even noted, for his wife and children had immediately agreed and were already out on the street. Patricia and Petula scuffled about who should have the honor of taking Michael by the hand and ran on ahead. I hurried after them under the pretense of keeping an eye on them. At least Herr Konirsch-Lenz left me in peace. The couple placed Johanna between them, both of them talking to her, lively, inspired, he especially leading the conversation. I heard the sharpness of his voice, which rose ever higher. But I could no longer make sense of it, all the talk blurring together, such that not even once was a single word intelligible. With the children just ahead of me, I felt like a schoolboy sent ahead by his parents and the teacher, who behind him moved solemnly, feeling sad about a misbehaving offspring, complaining, yelling, doling out admonitions until slowly and subtly, yet inescapably, they balled up together into a storm that made one’s conscience anxious but which could not be escaped.

Then we began to climb a hill, the girls hurrying, dragging and lifting Michael along with them, me behind them, such that we were quickly beyond earshot of the grown-ups. Might they call out, “Arthur, not so fast. Be careful, you could stumble and break a leg”? No one called at all. I looked back timidly, but they were busy with one another and probably glad that I had gone on so far ahead. The separation would, indeed, have seemed fine to me if the two of them had not taken Johanna away. They would have to give her back; they could not ruin me. They had already tried hard to turn her against me, to alienate her from me, even to take her away, and none of it had succeeded. But this time it was different; I sensed danger. This Siegfried, whom I, like an ass, had tangled with in front of Johanna — I had to watch out for him. I didn’t feel jealous, for this Siegfried with his Kolex wallpaper couldn’t come between Johanna and me, but he could make enough trouble such that she would suffer and feel doubtful. Excitedly, I had described Konirsch-Lenz as a friend; now I had to work at shaking the impression that I had given rise to. Treated wrong, robbed of all means of strength, feeling entirely uncertain, I felt anxious in the midst of a difficult situation. I needed to pull myself together and get to Johanna, as well as break up her exchange with these people.

The children had reached the bus stop, and I took Michael from the girls. They were lovely and harmless children, but I felt enmity toward them, as they were Siegfried and Minna’s children; I had to restrain myself to keep from being mean to them. Petula whined and begged to know when she could see sweet Michael again, and I said that we lived very far away, so it would likely be a long time.

“Papa has a car. It wouldn’t take very long at all.”

“I’m sorry!” I said, and sighed.

But that was too cowardly; seeing the children look wounded, I felt ashamed. I wanted to quickly get rid of such terrible feelings, and so I answered in a pedantic, dumb manner.

“Cars can be very dangerous. One needs to drive slowly and not too often.”

I couldn’t think of anything better. Patricia handled it straight off.

“Papa drives fast and is an excellent driver. He’s never had an accident. That’s how well he drives. And Mommy drives as well.”

“Mommy drives slow,” added Petula.

“It’s much better if Mommy drives slow,” I observed. “Then it’s harder for something bad to happen.”

I didn’t say anything more, and let the girls talk about their parents’ driving as Johanna, meanwhile, came closer. She was pale, for she had been pressed hard. When the three of them reached us, they fell silent; Johanna shot me a thin smile. Only the children kept on chatting; the grown-ups waited for the bus with hardly a word. It could be that Herr Konirsch-Lenz wanted to give me some more advice, but I stood next to Michael while holding the little packet and the bouquet of flowers, such that my patron had to curb all his good advice. When the bus finally arrived, having taken quite a long time, I turned around and dutifully stammered my thanks for all their kindness while managing to avoid shaking hands because of all I had to carry. Johanna rushed to lift up our boy, who had begun to dance about. Then we were on the steps of the bus, our supposed benefactors calling loudly to us, the children even louder, though I didn’t pay attention and didn’t look around. We drove straight off, Johanna with the child in her lap and me beside her.

“Dearest, didn’t you find them delightful? So well-meaning and helpful!”