H. Adler - The Wall

I lightly skipped up the steps that lifted me like a feather toward Fortunata, laughing as I did. At ease, she welcomed me and thanked me when I closed the door in order to save her the effort. Then she led me to the chair at her table and sat me down across from her. “Shall we look at handwriting, your hand, or the stars?” she asked matter-of-factly. Before I could even answer, she pointed toward some cards that lay in a bunch on the table, then toward a crystal ball, tipping it up with the long nail of her middle finger, because in the crystal ball she could read anything that one tried to hide. I thanked her and said that I trusted her to choose what would be best for me, whatever might bring me salvation, as I sought only pure happiness. Which is why I am here to seek your advice. My confidence in her pleased Fortunata; I looked straight at her, earnest. Then she mildly asked about the fee, it being best to get that over with at the start. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much money, though I didn’t wish to be stingy when it came to happiness. She nodded in satisfaction and assured me that she would do the best she could, whether the hand or handwriting or the crystal ball was best suited to me, and that ten shillings was the special price that I could count on. I agreed to it happily, for it seemed little for the task. I shoved the money across the table to her and felt ashamed, for her wisdom deserved a much larger sum. She, however, was moved to smile at me encouragingly, as if she were being richly rewarded, the note disappearing quickly. Again, she asked me to choose — the palm or the crystal ball? When I didn’t respond, she opted for the left hand and the crystal ball; she would try both. Silently, I consented and offered her my left hand. Fortunata grasped it with practiced tenderness and picked up a large magnifying glass to help her as she bent over it.

“Tell me, Miss Fortunata, do I exist?”

She briefly looked me in the eye and then looked me over, more serious than surprised. Then she looked again at the hand and simply said, “First I’ll look everything over. It’s better that you ask me questions when I look into the crystal ball.”

Fortunata knew a lot about my character, much more than I knew myself, but she said nothing that seemed to me improbable. A good man and father, she said, two children, a boy seven years old, a girl, who is almost four. — A good man and father … She no doubt wanted to be nice, but also bold. How precise she was when it came to the children! Had Fortunata perhaps seen me earlier with them? I didn’t ask. The questions had to wait until the crystal ball. — But a dreamer, too much of a dreamer. The world is different than the gentleman thinks. — What did I think? Often, I had doubts. — Yes, that can be bad. Which is why caution is advisable, always caution. There are also worries, the line of fate. There wasn’t quite enough income, a weakness in Mercury. Work with the head, that was clear. — Was my hand too limp? I curled it in a bit, but Fortunata reminded me that the hand has to remain open, please relax. I obeyed. — So an intellectual occupation, it’s often hard to be happy in that. You think and think and think, which causes worries. — I agreed. — It’s not good to think so much. Good-natured, and not at all ruthless, yet entrepreneurial. That’s clear. The gentleman has traveled far and is not from this country. — How did Fortunata know that? Of course, she must know everything, I forgot. From which country? I dared to ask. I didn’t at all expect an answer; it was just self-doubt rising up inside me. Fortunata rejected the question. I should know that myself, and what you know you shouldn’t ask about.

“If I knew that, then I would feel a lot better.”

From Europe, replied the wise woman immediately, and didn’t want to spend any more time on ascertaining where I had come from. Pensively she pressed at the lines on my hand with a fingernail. — There’s so much to see, also something sad. — I agreed. Yes, sad. But that is the past, I protested firmly, no longer now, it cannot happen again, it’s over now. — One would think so, Fortunata confirmed, much having happened, the war. Ah, that was awful, to be taken away unwillingly from your home, hard times, but you got through it and survived it all. — My parents, I called out, my parents and Franziska. — Yes, they are long dead, the poor parents. — Why didn’t she also mention Franziska? — The parents suffered a great deal, she said with a sigh. — That can clearly be seen in the hand, I was assured. With such a line of fate, anything is, unfortunately, possible. But the gentleman should feel hopeful, because he can. — Can I really? — Oh, certainly! Everything comes with time. I just had to make sure not to be too weak. — That I am not, I replied tentatively. — He who dreams so much is weak. Trust in yourself, have a bit of courage, then life will go easier. Just keep your head high and don’t lose hope! — There’s not much hope, I admitted. — Fortunata couldn’t let that go. — Hope is warranted, she said firmly. You don’t have to make it so hard; it depends on your heart. One can be too sad and cannot decide anything at the right moment. Fortunata also believed that I spent much too much time alone, shunning society and its pleasures, making it easy to become too serious. It’s no surprise with me, as I am often so disappointed in others. — I agreed with Fortunata; I always expect too much. — I must have been gullible. As a child and as a young boy, my view of the world was too rosy, an optimist, and then, unfortunately, most everything turned out quite differently. It had all happened with a vengeance, for now I was often unhappy and despairing. Fortunata looked up and gazed at me with sorrow.

“You are a good woman. You certainly help many people, your heart is in the right place.”

Fortunata was pleased that I recognized her goodness, and I praised her even more. Then she grasped my hand more tenderly than before and said so many lovely things about me that I was ashamed. Her praise wafted over me and sounded so good that I didn’t trust myself to consider whether or not it was right; she didn’t allow me to deliberate, as I almost drowned in the frothy comfort of her adulation. Fortunata continued to touch me so deftly with an even-keeled, thin, subdued voice that I didn’t notice how quickly she came to the end of it. It suddenly occurred to me that the sweet perfume of hope had rapidly blown away, which hurt, leaving me cold, a bit miserable. However, I didn’t want to lose control and pulled myself together. My hand still lay there, distant and tenderly spent, the guilty hand of Adam and his branching fate. The hand had grown from the earth, through the table, a five-pointed flower, and didn’t belong to me.

“May I?” I asked. “Is that my hand?”

Fortunata had pulled her crystal ball toward her and looked somewhat confused.

“What do you mean, your hand? It doesn’t bother me if it remains lying on the table.”

“Always? For always?”

“What do you mean? It’s your hand, you have to take it with you.”

“But not right away?”

“No. When you leave.”

“So I have to leave? I like it here with you so much.”

“Why don’t you want to go home? Be reasonable! Your wife is waiting for you. The children.”

“Yes, that’s right. But do you really believe that?”

“Yes, of course!”

“How terrible! I don’t ever want to leave you. I feel so good with you.”

“You can’t stay here, that’s out of the question.”

“And if I could be of help to you? A servant? To shop, cook, clean, help you do whatever is needed?”

“No! What are you thinking? My dear sir, we have to hurry! If we still want to do the crystal ball, we don’t have much time. Other people also want to visit me.”