Uwe Tellkamp - The Tower

‘Now then.’ Weniger slapped Richard on the shoulder with his shovel-like hand. ‘You’d better not tell Herr Kohler that one.’

‘An idealist and a schemer,’ Richard replied. ‘And not a bad doctor, either.’

‘The worst are the ones who really believe in what they believe in. And have enough energy for the professional doubters.’ Weniger gestured diagonally upwards with his thumb. ‘Doubtless you laughed.’

‘Wernstein laughed so much the forceps in which he was holding the disinfection swab fell open … But I’ve got another: The General Secretary is on the breakwater in Rostock watching the ships being loaded. He asks the sailors, “Where are you going?” — “To Cuba.” — “And what are you carrying?” — “Machines and vehicles.” — “And what are you coming back with?” — “With oranges.” He asks the sailors on another ship, “Where are you sailing?” — “To Angola.” — “What are you carrying?” — “Machines and vehicles.” — “And what are you coming back with?” — “With bananas.” — And he asks the men on a third ship, “Where are you going? — “To the Soviet Union.” — “What are you carrying?” — “Oranges and bananas.” — “And what are you coming back with?” — “With the train.” ’

Clarens whispered, ‘Listener’s question to Radio Yerevan: “They say a new history of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union has been published for the sixtieth anniversary of the October Revolution?” — Answer: “Yes, illustrated even! With cuts by Brezhnev.” ’

‘That’s a good one! We could put it up on the Party Secretary’s noticeboard.’

‘I know one too.’ Having filled his plate with fruit, crisply fried hamburgers and loin steaks, bread and rice, Christian joined in the conversation, his face burning. ‘Brezhnev is visiting the USA. On the second morning President Ford asks him what he dreamt of. — “I dreamt of the Capitol in Washington, there was a red flag flying on it!” — “Strange,” says Ford, “I dreamt of the Kremlin and there was a red flag flying on that too.” — “But of course, you can always see that.” — “Yes, but there was something written on it.” — “What?” — “I don’t know, I can’t read Chinese.” ’

‘Careful,’ Clarens warned. Müller came over, a forced smile on his face and a plate with kebabs and peaches in his left hand. ‘What is it, gentlemen? May I share the joke?’

‘We’ve just heard a new one, Herr Professor,’ Weniger said in a provocative tone. Müller raised his eyebrows.

‘A banana machine has been set up in Berlin, on Alexanderplatz. If you put a banana in, a mark comes out.’

Müller pursed his lips. ‘Hmm, yes. Well, gentlemen, I have to say I don’t think that’s a particularly good joke.’ His eyes narrowed, his lips became thin. ‘Certain circles would be delighted if they knew they’d managed to make so much progress here … And I find it all the more regrettable, Herr Weniger, when I see that you have a banana on your plate …’ Müller’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. ‘We bear a responsibility, gentlemen, and it’s all too easy to join in cheap jokes about our country … But it doesn’t change anything, you know, it doesn’t change anything … And you above all, gentlemen’ — he shook his head disapprovingly — ‘we, we should be aware of our position. With or without bananas … And above all we ought’ — he pronounced it ‘ouought’, softly and drawn out, his head still slightly on one side — ‘to refrain from mockery of a great man whom our Soviet brothers have lost. Don’t you agree?’

Weniger swallowed and looked to one side. ‘Of course, Herr Professor.’

‘I’m glad we are of one mind.’ Müller gave a gracious smile. ‘By the way, Herr Hoffmann, your wife is a quite superb cook. She prepared the steaks and the soufflé together with the restaurant chef, I believe? Excellent, really excellent. I’ve already expressed my appreciation to her and asked her to let my wife in on the secrets of a few recipes, above all the cherry pie at your house this afternoon. Superb!’ He slowly walked back to his seat, chatting to some of the doctors on the way. Weniger and Clarens, pale-faced, watched him go.

‘How on earth can you stand it with him, Richard?’ Weniger hissed through his teeth. ‘The slimy devious bastard.’

‘Manfred.’ Richard raised his hand to calm him down.

‘Oh, leave it. Goes around like Lord Muck. “We had a collection, we bought the picture.” — Shall I tell you something: he didn’t lift a finger. The idea came from your senior nursing officer, and it was Wernstein who put his back into it. That’s how it was. Then the Herr Professor came along once the matter was taking shape and took everything under his aegis.’

‘Forget it,’ said Clarens. ‘We mustn’t let him spoil this splendid meal for us.’

A look of determination flashed across Weniger’s face. ‘I’ve got another one. How can you work out the points of the compass with a banana? Place it on the Wall. The end that gets bitten off is pointing east.’

When everyone was sitting down, Müller proposed a toast. Christian and Ezzo were not the only ones to set about the food ravenously; to get it all together Anne and Richard had had to start months ago, spending a fortune in the Delikat shops. And without his secretary’s brother, who drove special consignments of fruit, including citrus and tropical fruits, to supply Berlin, they would have had to make do with the two sorts of apples that were available in a normal greengrocer’s: brown, too-sour Boskoop and green, too-sweet Golden Delicious. In exchange for the loin steaks, the ground meat for meatballs and hamburgers and the beef for the kebabs from Vogelsang’s, the butcher’s, Richard had had to sacrifice one of the two sets of snow chains Alice and Sandor had given him two years ago. The Felsenburg restaurant had made the least contribution to the buffet: just the kitchen, crockery and premises had been made available for the party.

Most of the guests left around eight. The official part of the birthday celebrations was over. Frau Müller put away the few recipes Anne had written down and attempted a smile that looked to Christian like an attempt at an apology. Adeling and the other waiter brought hats and coats, helped the ladies put them on. The guests who remained took advantage of the break to stretch their legs a bit.

The seating plan was abandoned. Some chairs were moved over to the stove. The surplus crockery and cutlery was taken away, the flowers — with Meno’s roses a red magnet among them — were placed beside the table with the presents.

Outside, Christian helped his father and a couple of junior doctors push Müller’s Opel Kapitän to get it started and out of the snowdrifts. The professor himself was pushing, at the front, on the passenger side. ‘Take your foot off, Edeltraut, take your foot off,’ he shouted as the wheels started to spin.

‘We’re pushing, Herr Professor; you give us the command, Herr Doktor Hoffmann.’

‘You’re learning, Herr Wernstein. Always delegate responsibility,’ Richard replied with a laugh. ‘Right then: heave-ho, one — two — three — and away she goes. Watch out, Christian, you’re standing by the exhaust —’

Müller jumped in and the car slithered off.

‘Hope you have a quiet day at work tomorrow, Manfred. So long, Hans, hope you get home OK. And thanks a lot for everything.’ Richard shook Weniger and Clarens by the hand as their wives said goodbye to Anne. With astonishment the two men realized they were both wearing the same winter coat from VEB Herrenmode.

‘They had them on Tuesday, my wife got it for me.’

‘Mine too, queued for five hours. I wasn’t supposed to get it until Christmas, but my old one was worn out.’