Roberto Bolaño - The Third Reich

With the assistance of a waiter, we brought her up to her room and put her to bed. Ingeborg asked whether she had any sedatives. Sobbing, Hanna said no, the doctor had forbidden them. Finally we decided that it would be best if Ingeborg spent the night there.

Before returning to the Del Mar, I looked in at the Andalusia Lodge. I hoped to find the Wolf and the Lamb, or El Quemado, but I didn’t see anybody. The owner, sitting at the table closest to the television, was watching a Western, as usual. I left immediately. He didn’t even turn around. From the Del Mar I called Ingeborg. No news. They were in bed although neither of them could sleep. Stupidly I said, “Try to console her.” Ingeborg didn’t answer. For a moment I thought the connection had been lost.

“I’m here,” said Ingeborg. “I’m thinking.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m thinking too.”

Then we said good night and hung up.

For a while I lay on the bed with the lights off, wondering what could have happened to Charly. In my head I could come up with only random images: the new mat with the price tag still attached, the midday meal impregnated with repulsive scents, the water, the clouds, Charly’s voice… I thought it was strange that no one had asked Hanna about her bruised cheek; I thought about what drowned people looked like; I thought that our vacation was essentially shot. This final thought made me jump up and get to work with uncommon energy.

At four in the morning I finished the Spring ’41 turn. My eyes were closing with exhaustion but I was satisfied.

At ten in the morning Ingeborg called me to say that we had an appointment at Navy Headquarters. I waited for Ingeborg and Hanna in the car in front of the Costa Brava and we set off. Hanna was more animated than the night before. Her eyes and lips were made up, and when she saw me she smiled. Ingeborg’s face, meanwhile, presaged nothing good. The Navy Headquarters is a few yards from the marina, on a narrow street in the old town. To get to the offices you have to cross an inner courtyard paved in dirty tiles, with a dry fountain in the middle. There, propped on the fountain, we discovered Charly’s board. We knew that was what it was before anyone told us, and for an instant we were unable to speak or to keep walking. “Come on up, please, come on up,” said a young man (I later recognized him as being from the Red Cross) from a second-story window. After the initial shock we went up; waiting on the landing were the head of Civil Protection and the secretary of the Windsurfing Club, who greeted us with warmth and sympathy. They asked us to come in: in the office were two other civilians, the kid from the Red Cross, and two policemen. One of the civilians asked us whether we recognized the board in the courtyard. Hanna, her tanned skin paling, shrugged. They asked me. I said I couldn’t be sure; Ingeborg said the same thing. The secretary of the Windsurfing Club looked out the window. The policemen seemed fed up. I got the impression that no one dared to speak. It was hot. It was Hanna who broke the silence. “Have you found him?” she asked in such a shrill voice that we all jumped. The German speaker rushed to answer no, we’ve only found the board and boom, which as you’ll realize is quite significant… Hanna shrugged again. “Probably he knew he would fall asleep and he decided to tie himself on”… “Or he guessed that his strength wouldn’t hold, the sea, the fear, the darkness, you know”… “In any case, he did the right thing: he let the sail go and tied himself to the board”… “These are guesses, of course”… “No effort has been spared: the search has been lengthy and we’ve taken every risk”… “This morning a boat belonging to the Fishermen’s Guild found the board and the boom”… “Now we’ll have to get in touch with the German consulate”… “Naturally we’ll keep combing the area”… Hanna had her eyes closed. Then I realized that she was crying. We all exchanged somber glances. The kid from the Red Cross bragged: “I’ve been up all night.” He seemed excited. His next move was to pull out some papers for Hanna to sign; I don’t know what they were. We went to have sodas at a bar in town. We talked about the weather and the Spanish officials, well-intentioned people with few resources. The place was jammed with a dirty sort of day-tripper and it smelled strongly of sweat and tobacco. It was past twelve when we left. Ingeborg decided to stay with Hanna and I went up to the room. I could hardly keep my eyes open, and soon I was asleep.

I dreamed that someone was knocking at the door. It was nighttime, and when I opened the door I saw someone slipping down the hall. I followed. Unexpectedly we came to a huge dark room filled with the outlines of heavy old furniture. The smell of mildew and dampness was strong. On a bed a shadowy figure was twisting and turning. At first I thought it was an animal. Then I recognized Frau Else’s husband. At last!

When Ingeborg woke me, the room was full of light and I was sweating. The first thing I noticed was her face, which was definitely changed: irritation was etched on her forehead and eyelids, and for a few instants we stared at each other blankly, as if we had both just woken up. Then she turned her back on me and gazed at the closets and the ceiling. She’d wasted half an hour trying to call me from the Costa Brava, she said, and there had been no answer. In her voice I heard anger and sadness; my attempt at conciliation only disgusted her. Finally, after a long silence during which I took a shower, she admitted: “You were asleep but I thought you’d left.”

“Why didn’t you come upstairs to see for yourself?”

Ingeborg reddened.

“There was no need… Anyway, this hotel scares me. The whole town scares me.”

For some obscure reason I thought that she was right, but I didn’t say so.

“That’s silly…”

“Hanna loaned me some clothes, they fit just right, we’re almost the same size.” Ingeborg is talking quickly and for the first time she looks me in the eye.

In fact, the clothes she’s wearing aren’t hers. All of a sudden I’m aware of Hanna’s taste, Hanna’s aspirations, Hanna’s steely determination to enjoy her vacation, and it’s disconcerting.

“Any word of Charly?”

“Nothing. Some reporters were at the hotel.”

“Then he’s dead.”

“Maybe. Better not to say anything to Hanna.”

“No, of course not, that would be absurd.”

When I got out of the shower, Ingeborg, who was sitting next to my game lost in thought, struck me as the image of perfection. I suggested that we make love. Without turning, she rejected me with a slight shake of the head.

“I don’t know what appeals to you about this,” she said, gesturing at the map.

“The clarity of it,” I answered as I dressed.

“I think I hate it.”

“Because you don’t know how to play. If you knew how, you’d like it.”

“Are women interested in this kind of game? Have you ever played with one?”

“I haven’t. But they do exist. Not many of them, true; it isn’t a game that particularly attracts girls.”

Ingeborg gave me a bleak look.

“Everyone in the world has handled Hanna,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“Everyone’s handled her.” She made a terrible face. “Just because. I don’t understand it, Udo.”

“What do you mean? That everyone has slept with her? And who is everyone? The Wolf and the Lamb?” How or why I can’t say, but I started to shake. First my knees and then my hands. It was impossible to hide.

After hesitating for a moment, Ingeborg jumped up, put her bikini and a towel in a straw bag, and literally fled the room. From the door, which she didn’t bother to close, she said: