H. Adler - The Wall

“Well, then, sit down, Arthur. It’s about time!”

“We thought you were dead already!” the leader added rudely but meaning well. “Your wife — boy, can she cook! What she does with her bacon, soft as silk, simply primissima! ”

Brian talked with his mouth full, bits of fat on his lips. I forced myself not to be rude in reply.

“If it tastes so good, you can come back again soon — both you and your friend!”

“Thanks very much, we’d be happy to! I’m a widower. To have a wife like yours would be easy to get used to!”

The leader was rude and had no idea that he should be ashamed, rather than looking straight at me with a big grin. He stuffed his mouth full, chewed, and called out with pleasure.

“Nothing shy about me! I’m a man!”

The children both trembled. Derek noticed and wanted to put them at ease.

“No need to be afraid, my little sparrows! Brian there is a good guy, and funny. He won’t do us any harm.”

“No, little bugs, no need to get all worked up!” yelled the leader even louder. “I won’t be coming back.”

“No? Really not?” Michael asked anxiously.

Eva began to cry. I saw how it was too much for her mother, for, in addition, Michael was not at all eased by Derek’s words and also began to sob. I would have been happy to comfort Johanna and come to her aid, but I could sense her deep resistance like a cold wall, she fearing for the children more in regard to me than to the men, a dead father being no blessing but rather something that would harm the children. Therefore I looked at the pallbearers in seeming confidence, and turned to Brian.

“I think there’s no more time left to lose. If you’re full, we can head off.”

“Right! You’re no fool!” the leader confirmed.

“But you didn’t eat any oatmeal and hardly drank your tea!” Johanna said with slight disapproval.

That was the last straw. I stood up and was firm with the unwelcome guests.

“There was only a little bowl of it, and it was for me. And besides, the gentlemen don’t eat oatmeal and, what’s more, I’m sick of this whole charade.”

The men had not expected such decisiveness on my part. They were taken aback, stuffing their mouths with several bites more and shifting uneasily in their seats.

“No hurry, don’t choke!” I joked. “Whoever eats last eats best.”

Johanna had taken Eva, who wept bitterly, onto her lap, Michael meanwhile pressing his head hard into her.

“If you want me to go with you,” I warned the men, “then behave as if you do. I’m done and will wait for you out front.”

My sudden hurry annoyed the pallbearers, but they didn’t dare risk showing their displeasure, instead devoting themselves with undiminished desire to eating more, drinking their tea in haste, and, finally, indicating that they were ready to follow me. Yet they continued to sit there. Johanna wavered as to whether she should be thankful that I had taken command of the situation so forcefully or if she should speak up and ask me not to leave the table without having eaten, since I had hardly touched a bite. Suddenly, she came to a decision and passed by me and down the hall with Eva and Michael in hand, painfully trying to hold the children away from me so that I couldn’t touch them or nuzzle them. Once outside, she called back breathlessly that she would be right back, she just needed a moment, because she wanted to accompany me and the men to make sure everything went all right; she just had to leave the children with Mrs. Stonewood. That seemed unnecessary to me, but I said nothing. As I looked for my coat and hat in the hall, the men continued to sit at the breakfast table back in the room, me becoming worried that there was something wrong. Therefore I went back to make sure everything was all right. They were shamelessly stuffing into their pockets what was left of the meal, nor were they the least disturbed by my appearance.

“Do pallbearers always steal?”

The men didn’t stop, and grabbed anything they could, not leaving behind so much as a slice of bread. As soon as they heard Johanna outside again, the thieves straightened up and pressed at their pockets to smooth them out, but with no sense of guilt.

“We gave you a break,” said Derek. “Now give us one. And, besides, you won’t be needing any of it any longer.”

Johanna stepped into the room and saw with one glance what had happened, yet she didn’t say a word. In a matter-of-fact manner, she spoke firmly.

“The children are fine. Gentlemen, we can leave.”

I wanted to let the men lead the way, but they didn’t trust me, and so I had to go first. Johanna followed last and locked the house. West Park Row seemed much busier than usual, for there were people everywhere, a striking scene. I was amazed. I had always loved the neighborhood precisely because, even at weddings and funerals, there were never many idle gawkers.

“Is it because of me …?”

The men, who had donned white gloves, gave no reply. It was frightfully clear to me that I had to snake my way through this crowd. I’m sure the men would have helped me if I had asked them, but I dreaded doing so, for they were now solemn and even more disgusting, having put on their shiny black top hats, a showy bit of finery for such a throng of gallowsmongers. I would have been happy to have Johanna at my side, for I wanted to cling to her. I had so often depended on her steadiness amid the pressing crush of people whenever we had to go into the city, where I, weak-kneed from nausea and dizziness, allowed myself to be steered through the clogged and swarming clumps of anxiety. Yet Johanna, though not seeming upset, was not ready to take my arm. Not once did she reach out to me, as if she had agreed with the men not to do so. She appeared braced to avoid any commotion, not wanting to escalate it through any show of sympathy. Since I recognized many I knew among the crowd, I was shocked. I said hello to no one, nor did anyone greet me; instead, they regarded me with a peculiar mixture of mild contempt and indulging regard. I peered back at Johanna to see if she acknowledged anyone, but her demeanor remained unreadable. She seemed neither to care about the people nor to care about me, even when she cast a quick glance my way. I didn’t know if it was because there was such a crowd or because of the gloomy weather, but the sweet numbing stench from the sewers was especially heavy. The vapors wafted over us, containing the sadness of an entire city, such that tears ran from my eyes. I held my handkerchief to my nose, but only for a little while, for it attracted attention and made me look like a weakling. Johanna also smelled the terrible odors, but no one else seemed to notice.

The pallbearers, who pressed close to me, were unconcerned and only annoyed that people stood in our way. Luckily, Brian and Derek were especially tall and stood well above the others, especially with their tall hats on. And so they were able to make their way through, the crowd giving way to them without their needing any assistance from the police. Meanwhile, I would have been happy to talk with someone, be it even a little chat with Derek, though less so with Brian, if only to remove the suspicion that I was someone to be shunned, and whose removal was the only point of an otherwise miserable day. But the people around me were too shy to acknowledge my welcoming glances, while Derek and Brian didn’t even think of talking to me, either. They only kept a watchful eye on me, making sure that I made no sudden move, they not even speaking with each other except for the odd fleeting word here and there. As for striking up a conversation with Johanna, as was my right, I would have been glad to, but I somehow felt that might damage her reputation. I also didn’t want to cause her difficulty. So there was nothing left for me to do except silently make my way forward on my difficult path, step by step. This wasn’t that hard, for I felt alive. However, it was very clear that I was expected to die, the shyness with which I was greeted being stronger than any rampant curiosity that brazenly emerged from people’s glances and demeanors. There was the rustle of fall in the awful air, a column of smoke also arching aslant and heavy across the cold sky. I couldn’t tell if it came from the squat chimney near MacKenzie’s or from the crematorium farther off. It was not at all still, nor could one expect that it would be, but no shouts or alarms of any kind were allowed, the onlookers only pale and tired, having slept badly the entire night; if I wasn’t mistaken, mild disappointment could be seen on their faces. A woman whom I thought I knew, having seen her often at Simmonds’s, accidentally bumped up against me, and it surprised me that she was carrying a full bag of groceries. Curious, I looked inside it and saw a lovely large head of cabbage.