My French Whore

by Gene Wilder

I told Joseph to enjoy his dinner and walked up the stairs to Annie’s apartment.

  She knew something was wrong the moment she opened the door. I must have looked like I was going to a parade, wearing my dress uniform and carrying a briefcase—not exactly how she was used to seeing me when I came to visit. She always seemed to know what was going on inside my brain, and my heart, when she looked at my eyes. She took my briefcase, and then my hand, and led me into the living room. When we stood facing each other, she kissed me gently. Feeling her lips again, I suddenly hugged her with so much force that I apologized, afraid that I might have hurt her.

  “You’ll never hurt me that way,” she said. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

  “If I tell you that only the most urgent crisis could keep me from seeing you tonight, would you believe me?”

  “Of course I would, dear. Can you come later?”

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

  “If you can, will you come back to see me? No matter how late it is? Even if I’m asleep? ... Will you come back?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  EIGHTEEN

  I NEEDED TO CHANGE COSTUMES SOMEWHERE secluded. I asked Annie if there was a place I could leave her apartment without being seen. She showed me the stairway she used at the back of her building which led to a parking area for tenants. I gave her a quick kiss good-bye and waited until she went back into her apartment.

  On the stairway I took out the goggles, cap, and long riding jacket from my briefcase and put them on. The beige jacket covered my colonel’s uniform. I put my colonel’s hat into the briefcase. The church bells gonged: it was 6:45 p.m.

  I walked into the Motorrad Parkhaus and started examining cycles with sidecars. A new guard appeared out of nowhere and started asking me questions.

  “I’m supposed to pick up Colonel von Rieger, immediately, and I have no time for stupid questions,” I barked. “Tell me if you have an Alba available that’s been filled with petrol.”

  He looked at me with a puzzled face.

  “Idiot—the colonel is waiting.”

  The guard rushed over to a cycle with sidecar and said he had filled the tank two hours ago. It was an Alba. I didn’t bother thanking him—that might have made him suspicious. I got on the seat, put my briefcase in the wire basket behind me, pumped the pedal three times and the motor started. I tried to look as professional as possible as I drove off, but the first five or ten seconds were almost a disaster. I jerked and stopped, and jerked and stopped. I knew how to ride a motorcycle, but the sudden burst of speed from this cycle nearly made me capsize. When I finally adjusted to the temperament of the Alba, I zoomed out of the Parkhaus.

  I remembered the route Steinig and I had taken to Birkenfeld and I stopped about a hundred yards short of the prison. It was 7:15 p.m. and not really dark yet, but dark enough. I took out my eye patch and colonel’s hat from my briefcase, then took off my riding coat, goggles and corporal’s cap and put them into the briefcase. I tied the eye patch over my right eye, put my colonel’s hat on, and walked slowly to the entrance of the prison, carrying my briefcase.

  When I arrived at the reception desk, the guard on duty was, as I expected, eating his dinner. He jumped up from his desk when he saw me and saluted.

  “Get me Major Heintz,” I said in German.

  “I’m sorry, sir—he left half an hour ago.”

  “Scheisze,” I said. I almost said “shit” but caught myself in time.

  “I can call him, sir, if you like,” the guard said.

  “No, never mind,” I said. “Let him eat his dinner. And you as well. I’m Colonel von Rieger—give me the key to cell fourteen.”

  “Yes sir,” he said. “Would you sign this book please, Colonel?”

  Under the date, I signed:

  Colonel von Rieger—19:30 hours

  He pulled a key off of a hook and handed it to me. “It’s on the second floor, sir.”

  “My driver is having a sandwich at the Konditorei,” I said. “I told him to fetch me in twenty minutes. Direct him to cell fourteen as soon as he arrives.”

  “Yes sir,” he said, still standing at attention.

  “Eat your dinner,” I said. “Everyone else is.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I went up to the second floor and walked down a dark aisle that was stifling because of the heat and mustiness. When I arrived at cell fourteen I saw a tall guard sitting on a chair a few cells farther down the aisle. When he saw me, he quickly rose.

  “Sir, do you want me to—”

  “I have the key. What’s your name?”

  “Krauss, sir.”

  “My driver will be here in approximately twenty minutes. If I need you, I’ll call.”

  “Yes sir,” he said.

  I opened the cell door and saw Captain Harrington sitting on a small bench next to a cot. I suddenly turned to the guard and said, “Get me a bar of soap and a clean towel.”

  “Sir, the morning crew does all of those—”

  “NOW! I want them NOW!” I shouted.

  Right away, sir.” And he hurried down the stairs.

  I walked into the cell. Captain Harrington didn’t recognize me, of course. When I took the patch off, he said, “Peachy!”

  I signaled “Shh” with one finger and immediately started taking off my uniform jacket. I spoke in a whisper as I took the pair of military trousers out of my briefcase.

  “Put this jacket on, sir, and these trousers.”

  He took off his torn and filthy trousers and put on the new ones. Then he put on my colonel’s jacket.

  “What in God’s name are we doing?” he whispered.

  “I can’t explain anything now, sir, but please hurry.”

  As he was dressing, I took out the long, beige rider’s jacket and the cap and put them on. I tied the black eye patch over Captain Harrington’s right eye. I almost put it on his left eye, but caught myself in time. Then I put the colonel’s hat on his head.

  “Don’t say anything, sir. If anyone speaks, just look perturbed or angry. I’ll do the explaining. Clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “And when we walk out of the cell, you have to lock the cell door with this key.”

  I handed him the key and then opened the cell door just as the guard was rushing back with a bar of soap and a clean towel.

  “He doesn’t need that now,” I said, changing my voice a few notes higher. “Colonel von Reiger has learned what he came here for.”

  “But, but—”

  “Give him a dirty look, sir,” I whispered.

  Captain Harrington was a good actor. He turned and stared at the guard.

  “Yes sir,” the guard said.

  We walked down the stairs. I carried the colonel’s briefcase for him.

  “At reception, hand the key to the guard and say, ’Danke,’” I told Captain Harrington.

  When we reached reception, the guard, who was just finishing his dinner, jumped up. Captain Harrington tossed the key onto the desk, next to the ‘sign in’ book, and said, “Danke.”

  The guard answered, “Guten Abend, Herr Oberst,” and we walked out onto the street.

  “Turn left here, sir, then walk in front of me, straight ahead for about a hundred yards. A motorcycle and sidecar are there. You can take off the eye patch now.”

  “Yes, sir, Private Peachy,” he said, with a slight smile.

  When we reached the Alba, it was quite dark. It was also a cloudy night, which I was thankful for. I assisted Captain Harrington into the sidecar and got onto the cycle, pumped the start pedal three times ... and nothing happened. My heart sank. I pumped three more times and heard a little sputtering. On my third try the motor roared, and I took off quickly.

  We couldn’t talk on the way because the noise from the motor and the wind made it impossible. I was glad of that. When we passed a road sign that read SAARBRUCKEN, I pulled over and came to a halt. There was a German guardhouse nearby, so I left the motor idling. I got
off and unscrewed the facing of the cycle’s headlight so that it would look like I was fixing something, just in case a guard came by. Lights from other cycles and autos kept flashing by.

  “You can get out now, sir. We’re very close to the French border. With a little luck you should be in the French town of Metz before dawn. It’s only about twenty kilometers from here, northeast.”

  “You’re not coming with me?” he asked, with a startled look.

  “No sir,” I said. “You’d better give me back my colonel’s jacket and hat. Sorry, sir—I’ll need them.”

  “I suppose this wouldn’t be a good time to ask what in the name of Christ you’re doing here?” he said.

  “No sir, this would not be a good time.”

  “You know the penalty for desertion?”

  I found it difficult to answer for a moment, and then managed to say, “Yes sir, I do.”

  “You’re not a coward, Peachy—that’s for sure. I don’t want you to disobey an order ... so I’m not going to order you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  As he stepped a few feet away, to get out of the lights from passing cars while he changed costumes, I imagined the look on Annie’s face when she saw that I did come back tonight and how happy she’d be. I pictured her standing in her doorway, smiling with tears, then hugging me, then taking my hand and leading me into her apartment. Then, for some stupid reason, I started fantasizing about the officers she must have slept with in order to keep the rapist, General Gruner, away from her. I pictured her standing naked with someone else ... then making love with someone else. I tried to stop these thoughts—I tried, but I couldn’t stop. When I pictured another man lying naked with her and being inside her, it hurt so much, until I finally realized that I was jealous of men that she probably hated. Then I realized how much I loved Annie.

  Captain Harrington handed me my colonel’s jacket and hat. He looked at me in a tender, almost fatherly way, and said, “How long do you think you can keep this up, Peachy? You know it’s only a matter of time, don’t you?”

  “Yes sir, I know that.”

  I took the Lugar out of my briefcase and handed it to him.

  “You may need this, sir. There are only seven bullets in it. I suggest you hold it in your left hand, just in case you need to salute anyone.”

  He took my hand and held it for a few seconds.

  “’Hair Nose Harrington,’ huh?”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “That’s all right—I’ve heard it, you know. It’s not a bad song.” Then he said, “Thank you for saving my life, Paul.” With a big grin I said, “You’re welcome, sir.”

  “By the way, Peachy, where on earth did you get such a fantastic idea for getting me out of prison?”

  “Twelfth Night, sir, by William Shakespeare. I had two lines in it at the Milwaukee Players.”

  He squeezed my hand and started walking toward the woods. Then he stopped and looked back.

  “And thank you for the duck, Peachy.”

  I waited until I saw him disappear, then quickly shut the facing of the headlight, got onto my cycle, made a u-turn, and headed back to Karlsruhe.

  After I left the outskirts of Saarbrucken, I raced through the countryside and heard Captain Harrington’s words repeating in my head like a record on a phonograph: “You’re not a coward, Peachy ... You’re not a coward.” It made me so happy that I started singing “Hair Nose Harrington” to any nightingales who might be listening. I began figuring how long it would take before I’d see Annie again.

  NINETEEN

  I ARRIVED AT THE MOTORRAD PARKHAUS JUST AS the church bells announced midnight. After I parked the cycle, I looked to see if there was a guard watching, but there wasn’t. If there were a guard, he was probably sleeping. I walked into the locker room and quietly returned the riding jacket, goggles, and cap where I had found them and got out as quickly as I could.

  I walked to the rear of Annie’s apartment building, with my briefcase in hand. I was only wearing my trousers, boots, and an undershirt. I knew I should have put my colonel’s jacket and hat back on, but I was too tired and too anxious to see Annie to care about taking anymore precautions. Dumb, of course.

  I climbed the backstairs and knocked softly on Annie’s door. I thought she might be asleep, but she opened the door after only a few knocks. She smiled and tears came to her eyes. She took my hand and led me into her apartment, placed my briefcase on a table, and stood next to me. The love in her eyes surrounded me. I kissed her mouth and tasted the sweetness and warmth of her lips again.

  “I need to take a bath, Annie.”

  “Would you like to take a swim?”

  “I certainly would. Do you have a swimming pool in your backyard?”

  “Yes, I do. Take off those things while I get something for you to wear.”

  When she came back she wrapped me into one of her robes, a little tight, of course, but it worked.

  “And here are some sandals,” she said. “They’ll be a little tight, but you have small feet.”

  She led the way down the back stairway, with me in Annie’s bathrobe and sandals, trying not to trip and hoping that no one from the building would pass by. Annie laughed when she saw me tiptoeing so carefully.

  We got outside and walked about a hundred yards into a small wooded area, and there I saw a narrow stream with fresh water flowing past us. Annie took off her lavender robe and waded into the stream.

  “Allez, allez,” she called out. I suddenly understood French. I took off the robe and sandals and waded into the stream. The water was cold but not freezing, and we splashed each other for a few seconds. When I felt soft earth under my feet I laid myself down carefully, face up, held my nose, and let the cold water flow over my head, washing away the tension of the night. I felt safe, at least for now. And I was with Annie.

  When we got back to her apartment, she dried me off with a big towel and led me to her kitchen, where she pulled out a bottle of red wine from a cupboard. She must have opened the bottle before she knew for sure if I was going to come back.

  “Sit down, sweetheart,” she said. “Are you hungry? I’m sure you must be. I have some cold cuts.”

  “Just the wine will be wonderful.”

  We sat at her kitchen table and I sipped my glass of wine slowly, looking at her tender face, remembering all the crazy thoughts that had flown through my head only an hour ago, when I realized how she must have hated the naked men I was jealous of, and why she thought of herself as a whore, and how stupid I was to be angry and ...

  “Can you tell me what happened tonight?” she asked politely, as if she knew she was interrupting my soliloquy.

  “... I realized how much I love you,” I said. Tears came to her eyes again, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Were you ever in love?” I asked. She shook her head no.

  “Didn’t you ever have a boyfriend in school?”

  “One Christmas—when I was seventeen,” she said, as she wiped her eyes with the corner of her lavender wrap—“I went on a sleigh ride with some of my friends from school. There was a sweet boy, named Jean Luc, and he was very handsome with wavy dark hair, but he was so shy. He kept looking at me and smiling while everyone else was laughing and singing rounds of children’s songs and drinking beer as we rode through the snow. But when Jean Luc saw me shiver from the cold, he came over and put his arm around me, and after three or four minutes he kissed me. That was my only kiss. I was raped by General Gruner six months later ... and he didn’t even kiss me.”

  I got up and wiped away some of her tears. Then I sat on her lap. “Am I too heavy for you?” I asked.

  “Never,” she said.

  “Does General Gruner ever come back to bother you?”

  “No. The swine was sent to take command of the Russian front, and the day after he arrived he got his leg and one hand blown off. I cheered so loud when I heard the news. I went to Le Petit Bedon that night and shared a bottle of Champagne with
Jamy. I got so drunk that he had to drive me home.”

  I kissed Annie as tenderly as I could. “There—now you’ve had two kisses—Jean Luc’s and mine.”

  She hugged me and whispered in my ear, “Je t’aime.” I said, “I tame you too.”

  “Oh my,” she said, “you speak perfect French.”

  By now it was 1:00 a.m., and I thought I had better leave. As much as I liked Joseph, I took it for granted that he had to report to Colonel Steinig each day, so that the colonel would know where I went, who I was with, and how long I stayed. I didn’t blame Joseph for that—that was his job—but I was thinking of Captain Harrington and my masquerade as Colonel von Rieger and thought I had better leave after spending “a pleasant evening with Mademoiselle Breton.”

  I didn’t want to put on my colonel’s jacket again, but I knew I had to. I asked Annie to come downstairs with me and kiss me good night at the front door, so that Joseph could see that I had spent the evening with her. Annie didn’t ask me to explain—she simply put on her bathrobe and a pair of slippers.

  We walked down one flight of stairs and stepped outside. I exaggerated looking for the Mercedes. Joseph flashed the headlights lights once to show that he was waiting. Annie and I didn’t have to “play act” kissing good night.

  “Are you going to take me to the grand ball on Thursday?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “And dance with me?”

  “Of course,” I said, “if I can get away from the Kaiser’s wife. I hear she’s a very strong woman with an iron grip.”

  “So am I,” she said, and kissed me once more.

  I got into the Mercedes, waved good-bye, and we drove away. It had been more than a good night’s work.

  TWENTY

  WHEN I FINISHED BREAKFAST THE NEXT MORNING, Colonel Steinig’s lieutenant asked if I would please join the colonel in his office. Steinig had a strange look on his face when I walked in.

  “I have some news for you, Harry ... our famous prisoner, Captain Harrington, has escaped.”