Stephen Dixon - What Is All This? - Uncollected Stories

The cars stopped. “Everyone into the hotel,” an officer said. “Leave your pocketbooks and accessories in the cars.” Soldiers all around — naturally, security was tight. So many flags above the entrance, and the lobby never seemed so clean and bright.

We were led into the dining room. Only now, nobody was there except maybe fifty soldiers on guard. The middle of the room had been cleared except for fourteen chairs in a row for us girls. We were told to sit. A few minutes passed. Then the commanding officer said “Everyone rise.” The soldiers stood at attention, and all the girls rose. The door from the kitchen opened, and out first in front of a group of officers was Hitler, who walked quickly and was in full uniform and knotted tie and holstered pistol and with his hat and swagger stick under one arm, but instead of those riding boots I’d always seen him in photos and newsreels, he wore highly polished black shoes. He walked past us with the commanding officer, as if we were this officer’s troops he was inspecting. He was taller than I thought he’d be, and he didn’t look well: pale and fleshy in the face and with big bags under his eyes. His hair style and mustache were the same as always, and his paunch and the way his body drooped were no different than most men his age. He also looked a little annoyed, as if with just one glance he knew that none of us were what he’d had in mind and that he was wasting his time here. Then he smiled.

That one,” he said, pointing the stick at Vera, the girl who’d been wanting him since the Putsch. “No good. Sorry, my dear,” he said, sort of bowing, and the officer snapped his fingers and a soldier escorted her out of the room. Vera, who threw her hands to her mouth and screamed in delight when she’d thought she’d been picked, left sobbing. Hitler walked past us all again and kept shaking his head.

“Stand straight and tall, girls,” the officer said.

“No, that’s all right,” Hitler said. They’re standing fine. That one,” and he pointed the stick at Gretchen, who had the biggest buttocks and maybe the best shape of any of us. “She’s quite charming looking, but her age is against her. Please,” he said to the officer. “To save them this embarrassment, you should have left behind the types I asked you to. Excuse me,” he said to Gretchen, and the officer snapped his fingers and she was escorted out.

Of the twelve girls left, maybe only Reni had a behind that came close to being as big as mine but still compact, if that was what Hitler liked most in a woman. She also had a bigger bosom and tinier waist and was blond and almost as young as me, so I thought he’d pick her. Then, maybe Hetta next, who was the real beauty of the bunch though perhaps too tall and slim for him and like me a brunette, with maybe long-legged Frieda and me coming in third.

“You,” he said, pointing to me. So I was out too. “I would like her. She has a bit more sparkle in the face than the others and a seemingly cheerier disposition, though you are all so nice for taking the time to come here today and Colonel Beineman will see that you are adequately recompensed. Thank you,” and he saluted us with the stick and left.

The rest of the girls crowded around me. “Oh, Gerta, you are so lucky,” they said. “You clever girl. I bet you winked at him and showed him a peek of what you had, isn’t that so?”

The winner and new champion, perhaps,” Clothilda said, raising my hand above my head. “You will be fantastic. He will adore you and be fantastic. Play your cards right, my darling, and you can take that other whore’s place and give orders in all his castles and feed his huge dogs.”

“Just be careful and return to us safe and sound,” Mrs. Dorter said.

The rest of you please return to the cars you arrived in,” the commanding officer said. “Mrs. Dorter, see Colonel Beineman, and you, please,” he said to me, “come with me?”

I got into the hotel elevator with him and two guards. “You have nothing that can be construed as weapons,” he said. “Barrettes, nail-files, clippers — mind if I search?”

“And if I did?”

“I’d have the matron do it. I don’t take liberties with women, madame.”

“Search me.”

He searched me during the elevator ride. “You’re clean. Now be good to the leader, you hear? He doesn’t need to be counseled or consoled, just relaxed. Say only pleasant and reassuring things to him. Beautiful day today — words to that effect. He won’t find them rude or dumb and he will understand your unease. And don’t be aggressive or suggest anything unless he asks you to. He likes politeness and warmth. In other words, do what he says to do, and you will be amply rewarded, and if he comes this way again soon, you’ll be his choice for a second time.”

“How long do you think it will be?”

This is between you and him. And I forgot: be responsive too. Whatever he does, say you like.”

Though I know he’s not like anybody else, I do that with all my clients unless they’re suffocating me with their weight or trying to murder me. Any other advice?”

“None I can think of. After it’s over, he’ll tell you so by leaving through the door to the adjoining room, and probably without saying another word. Then you get washed and dressed and see me outside your door.”

We walked down a hotel corridor where a lot of soldiers were. “Can I ask you one more thing? Why do you think he picked me?”

“He already said. He liked you. Your disposition and sparkle and such.”

“Some of the girls said they heard he only likes us young and with big buttocks and larger breasts than mine and maybe blond and a very narrow waist, which mine — though flat — is not. Any of that true?”

“He likes all kinds. Young, maybe, but most men do. But you with your brown hair and others with red or black or even dyed to those. But no more of this. Here is his room. Just go inside and undress and get in bed under the top sheet. He’ll be in soon.”

I went inside and undressed and got in bed. There was an uncorked bottle of Moselle in an ice bucket by the bed. I’d like a drink but didn’t know if I should take one. I’d wait. There was fruit too. And tiny cheese and wurst sandwiches on a silver tray. Truth was, I was getting nervous and would like something to eat and drink to calm my nerves. For what would I say to him? How was I to act? He’d see through any pose I put on. La guerre goes well, mon general, n’est pas ? No, that wouldn’t do. Whatever I’d say: no jokes. And suppose he didn’t like me nude? My simple little appendectomy scar might put him off. Then he’d say so and I’d leave if he wanted me to, easy as that. I don’t think he’d get angry. And he had so much power. That was what frightened me. I must be on my guard what I do and say. People who it seemed hadn’t done or said anything had disappeared. Not anyone I knew, but friends of friends. All for a good cause, I’m sure, but some say no. But who was to say what was the good cause? A man with so much power could establish his own good cause. That was true. Just keep the words functional and complimentary and wait for the signals from him, that was the best way.

The door to the next room opened and he came out. He didn’t say anything, just looked at the ceiling, blinking his eyes as if the light there was too bright for him, then looked at me. He was in slippers and a bathrobe. Very nice one too. Velvet. Red, with black piping and a thick braided rope. Stern, though, and it didn’t seem a smile would ever come.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello. You’re a very attractive young lady — you know that, don’t you?”

“I’ve been told.”

“Hasn’t gone to your head yet, has it?”