H. Adler - The Wall

Once my mind was clear — everything was over, everything was thrown out — I trifled between the breaks of a shattered order and formulated ridiculous plans to form a mosaic that did not want to come together right and also immediately fell apart again. Should I try the old trodden cobblestones? Crawl again into buildings that lingered after everything had been destroyed, no matter how bad they were, and thus behave as if misery were the only permissible realm for the soul? To not tread on the trodden, even those from yesterday, as you hole up in your pain from today? To give up on time, no matter how bad it had been for you, to grant that your youth has disappeared and your old age will be curtailed? Questions, muddled pressing questions that heat up the mind but find no cool answers. Dazed, I stumbled the two steps to the door and tried the lock, but it wouldn’t budge, until finally I was able to hammer at it with the handle of Hermann’s razor, thus allowing me to get out of the bathroom. How awful! Otherwise I had hardly touched his things, or any of his clothes, still clean and fresh, which Anna, as if it were her task to do, had sweetly laid out on a chair for me, they sitting there undisturbed, as if it were my own private plunder all divvied up. I didn’t look all that good, but at least every thread was mine and didn’t come from this city.

In the room the breakfast table was set, all of it looking just like at home. Whether Anna noticed right away that I had turned up my nose at all her gifts I couldn’t decide; her look was calm and gentle, making me feel good. She served me silently, and I let her do so. “I’m being coddled,” I said to myself with a mixture of concern and satisfaction. “I’m not used to this.” Perplexed, I broke the silence.

“Is this what happens every morning? Always breakfast on a tablecloth?”

“Yes, isn’t that …?”

Anna cleared her throat and didn’t know what to say. She looked at me, injured and concerned.

“I … I only meant,” I said, embarrassed.

“Do you not like it?”

“No, no. It’s all fine. Wonderful! I’m just not used to it. A beggar picked up on the street who is then tenderly fed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Then the beggar leaves, or at least that’s what one would expect. Otherwise, the beggar is chased off. But he’s indeed fresh and won’t let himself be handled like a dog, as, having found refuge, he feels better, as if at home, in fact totally at ease, but then someone gives him a kick and the door slams behind him with a crash.”

Anna listened, feeling strange, not knowing what was going on. She almost had tears in her eyes.

“It’s terrible, what I’ve done! Forgive me! I’ll leave.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing! I’m impossible! Everything is impossible!”

“You need to take it easy! Wait, just wait! Take your time!”

“Thank you. You are so patient. Forget all that about a beggar, please! It’s just not so. Don’t take it literally. If you take a look at me, the way I stand here, then you get what I’m saying, right? What I said is all so ungrateful and obnoxious. But I’ll do better and make sure to stifle any such talk.”

“I’ve already forgotten it. See? Simply gone!”

“I wish I’d never said any of it.”

“You have to get hold of yourself, Arthur! Maybe what I say sounds dumb, but, nonetheless, please don’t be so bitter! No one is going to chase you off. You’re always welcome here, and often, always, whenever you wish! You can also stay here for a few days, until you settle down. Time heals.”

“Heals who? Not me! One can say the exact opposite: Time kills.”

“Yes, it does that, too, you’re right. But it also heals. You’ll see, it heals. Be patient!”

“Should I move in with Peter? Won’t that be too much of a burden for him?”

“Not at all! It would be good for you. Even for him. He’ll help you, and vise versa. He’s pleasing and practical, as one says, but somewhat immature. He needs a strong hand. Hermann always provided that, for he was a distant cousin of his. But he’s a nice young man. You can take him under your wing and show him the way.”

I had to laugh.

“You’ve come to the right man! A strong hand, me? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I do indeed know something about people.”

“You’ve got me wrong, believe me! I can be nothing but trouble. And that I can do splendidly. You know, outside of here I stood among a heap of people, and with cranes they yanked away the good souls. I was too heavy, having been lucky or whatever, and so I was spared. Since then I’ve been rejected. Just look — nothing but bad thoughts, small-minded and cruel.”

“Your despair doesn’t bother me at all. Why would you feel anything different? I believe in you a great deal.”

“Too much, Anna!”

“You are a strong, an incredibly strong, person. You’ll land with your feet on the ground, or you’ll create the space in which to do so, and then everything will be good.”

Anna said this quietly and with a conviction that would not stand for any back talk, no matter how strong the urge rose within me.

“You know what, Anna? You’re giving me immense credit and are at peace with how I’ll waste it.”

“Yes, credit, if that’s what you want to call it. That seems unbelievable to you today. But someday you’ll recall my words. When you are yourself again. Yourself, entirely yourself.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I know it.”

Anna’s words hit me like a hot, dry wind, causing me — as best I can put it — to utterly despair. They didn’t change my situation at all, but they were a result of her belief in me, which then and long afterward, whenever I recalled this encouragement, granted me strength and confidence. In such manner, Anna had helped me; I’m still grateful to her and will never forget it. What she said was a blessing, which always wrested the morning free of its confusion and set the day, no matter how much it seemed headed toward a dark mess, on the right track.

Next we talked reasonably about what could be done for me, and what I myself should undertake. I suggested not waiting for Peter to pick me up, but instead that I go alone to the Office for Returnees to register. Anna had said this was an essential task, after which I could pick up my bag at the train station and come back. Anna was pleased that I wanted to get off to a good start, but she thought I should indeed wait for Peter, because the Office for Returnees, like the train station, could be reached almost directly if you walked up to the vineyard where Peter lived. At the Office for Returnees they were, in fact, very nice, but one would have to wait in line, and it would be much nicer to pass the time with Peter. Anna thought that as soon as I had the ID in my hands everything would go better for me. After the Office for Returnees, I should go down to the station with Peter, and from there it would be easy to go to his house. Anna assured me that I would like living at Peter’s; the neighborhood was very quiet, the room nice, the view pleasant and peaceful. Anna was happy that the area around the hilltop vineyard was not a problem for me, as she called it. What she meant was that relatives or friends of mine had never lived there. Anna suggested a plan as to how I could then move my things into Peter’s, he bringing me food, while Anna promised to visit every evening during the next few days. That way, I would slowly settle in and wouldn’t need to leave the house at all. Just rest was what I needed — to sleep a lot, not think, read a little, look out the window, until I regained my strength. Once I was recovered, I should gradually make my way around the neighborhood, reflect on matters, and begin to think about the future.