“Was? was? … what is it?”
Between two hiccups he gets it out…
“Revizor! … Revizor!”
He’s trying to tell us who it is … we understand … the one we’d been expecting … so they’d met … just like that in the middle of the plain … or in Tribitz … while we’re trying to figure it out, the women are making tracks … climbing the other side of the gully … who werey they? … we hadn’t recognized them … but Kracht had! … sure! … it’s the prostitutes! the ones who’d called us all kinds of names! … in Moorsburg … they’d taken it on the lam … sick of the sewers and garbage cans! … sick of the sidewalks! sick of obeying! … they’d knocked out a postman, the only one left in Moorsburg, thrown all his letters in the sewer … no more treatment! no more injections! … total mutiny!
Boom! boo-oom! … it was rumbling and thundering as bad at the bottom of that gully as in our tower or Le Vig’s cell at the manor … the whole plain was shaking … north, south, and west … to give you an idea what was going on in Berlin! I didn’t see how anything could be left … ah, Faustus! … ah, our Steinbock! … even the Chancellery, the Führer’s bunker, must be flatter than a pancake … with that boo-oom day and night! … Lili, Le Vig, and me get talking about it … and while we’re talking, they all skedaddle, all those ferocious camfire girls … they hadn’t expected us … I could see them running … their turn! … the ass-peddlers! … the mutinous poxies! … far away by now … only one was hanging back … “brutes! … brutes!” she yells at us … she’d stayed behind on purpose … “clunks! … cabbage-heads!”… her endearments came to us on the wind … if we hadn’t turned up they’d have finished them off … the Revizor and the Rittmeister … they’d have roasted them with ther other meat! … the two of them there in the mud were in bad shape … I saw they’d never be able to get up … they were still hiccuping … snatches of words, trying to talk … the prostitutes thought they’d been turned in … they thought the count and the Revizor had sent for the feldgendarme … the major tells us … still in snatches … how he’d got lost … instead of heading straight south he’d thought it wiser to make a flanking movement and surprise the Russian Army near Potsdam … he’d bumped into these whores, who had just escaped … that same night! … they d dropped everything! … hospital, garbage cans, and postman! … they were heading west! Hamburg Belgium, the Rhine! … they didn’t care how they got there … they’d heard there was food in the west … no clear idea of the future, but one thing they knew … no more street cleaning … no more hospital and no more injections! … when they saw us coming, they thought they’d be locked up in barracks again! … that’s what had them steamed up … besides, they were busy eating! … those enormous chunks of roast meat! … straight out of the fire! … that was the smoke the cop had seen! and made us head for! … now he wanted to know all about it, he wasn’t a feldgendarme for nothing! … how they’d got captured … the two of them … first Count von Leiden … it was hard for him even to jibber … we sit him up … he’s not very happy that way either … he’s cold, he’s shivering … the other guy too, but less … but now the inquest! … they’d beaten them bad … with pick handles … with shovel handles … and cook pots … they’d snagged everything from their camp, everything they needed for their bivouac … too much stuff to tote through the fields … here they hadn’t needed it … they’d found this gully with a pool of water at the end … a ready-made camp! … except for the firewood … I hadn’t seen many trees … they must have hauled them quite a ways … how long had they been there? … the Rittmeister didn’t know exactly … all he knew was that they’d beaten him plenty … no exaggeration … one look at him … bruises and bumps all oyer … especially the right side, from top to toe … how’d they gone about it? … they grabbed hold of him and held him down and wham! bam! … kicks! … pick handles! … that’s the stuff! … two three times a day … the Revizor ditto, but not so bad … von Leiden’s uniform griped them … they’d taken it off and dressed him like a prisoner … a lady prisoner … overalls, neck cloth, leather apron … one of them had put on his uniform, his spurs, and his schapska … that was the one who’d whipped him with a poker … I could see why they were in a hurry to leave! … and his mare? … they’d killed her with their pickaxes! … not quickly … slowly … big ugly wounds … in three days … then they’d cut her up … so much for the inquest! … meanwhile the women were making tracks … only one stayed behind … within earshot, to chew us out … “brutes! spies! cops!” … she just stayed there … her buddies were dots on the horizon … old von Leiden who enjoyed getting himself whipped by his little imps had had his bellyful … maybe that would cure him … he certainly had fractures … and fractures don’t mend easy at his age … especially out there without a hospital or an X-ray machine or an ambulance … the gendarme wanted all the details … how the mare had died … how they’d roasted her … beginning with how they’d killed her … they’d taken their pickaxes to her head and belly! … and then they’d cut her up … dismembered her … and roasted the meat … that we could see! … they’d eaten some already … quite a lot! … he’d eaten some too … so had the Revizor! … between two kickings and beatings! … both of them! you’ve got to eat! … and drink? the gendarme wanted to know … that water over there … not very appetizing … muddy … black and green … with Bleuette’s bowels soaking in it … real butchers! … they’d cleaned her out completely and put the good pieces in the fire … there was more roasting! … they kept cooking up steaks … how many of these escapees were there? … about a hundred, according to the old man … the Revizor thought there were more … “at least two hundred!” … they’d know the exact number in Moorsburg … they had a roster … the gendarme would go and see … later … they were all gone except for the one that was insulting us up on top of the slope … I thought maybe we could see them in the distance … those tarts were real sprinters … not like us! … and some of them were old, I’d seen them in Moorsburg … ass-peddling great-grandmothers … all far away, not one lagging behind, except this one right here … I look at their water, this little pool … really stagnant water and full of guts … well, how about it? those steaks on the fire! … and more big bloody chunks in reserve … maybe somebody was hungry … the wounded first! … I ask the Rittmeister … “ja! ja!” he’s hungry! … in his state … he amazes me … the Revizor’s hungry too … I wouldn’t have thought it … they’d developed a taste … the wild women lambasted them twice a day but stuffed them with meat in between … and gave them this good water to drink … our Gypsy harvesters, men, women, and children, are drawn to the meat … they ask Kracht … if they can have a taste … these steaks on the fire … and Bleuette’s enormous haunches … they’re afraid to help themselves, but they’d like to … they have very sharp knives, curved, more like cutlasses … Kracht asks the gendarme … “ja! ja!” … in that case everybody! not just the old Uhlan … everybody … a steak apiece! … one of the Gypsies does the carving … thin slices? … or thick ones? … he asks us … we can see he knows his business … he’s got style … in peacetime he must be something in a hotel or a restaurant … which piece? … from the leg?… or the neck? … we’ll have to take some away with us, we’ll never be able to finish it all … it’ll keep … we pile it in … the ladies can’t see us any more, too bad! … what’ll they eat now? … they’ll starve! … hell, the bloody bitches’ll find some little horse! or maybe a cop! … and roast him on a spit! … I’m trying to get a laugh out of Kracht … he doesn’t laugh … he’s pissed off …
“We’ll roast them!”
That’s what he thinks … they’re miles away … Anyway, we’ve got to go back … we’ve found the Rittmeister and the Revizor … not in very good shape, beaten and battered, but alive! … a few fractures, I think … if we hadn’t found them, or if we’d found them two days later, they’d have been dead … those females had been at them for a week down in tha
t hole … if the gendarme hadn’t seen the smoke, we’d have gone by … straight ahead … well, fairly straight … we’d have been kidnaped by other whores from other camps … there must have been some … why not? … one thing now … our two zebras couldn’t pick themselves up out of the clay … they tried, but they couldn’t make it … they were feeling a little better, but still flat on their backs in the mud … they were shivering … the women had dressed them in their skirts, aprons, and shifts … just like themselves! … they’d walked off with the Revizor’s frock coat, his satchel, and his dossiers … and the old boy’s whole uniform, saber and boots and revolver … the gendarme took note … that’s how they’d get caught … they’d try to sell the stuff … they always do … I thought: maybe … meanwhile we had these two on our hands … mauled, frazzled, and mired! … Walking was put of the question … luckily there were plenty of us, we’d carry them back to the manor … ten or twelve could manage the Revizor … and the same for Count von Leiden … over their heads … not uncomfortable at all … they were still groaning … but mostly from the cold … the autumn wind; from the east … crows overhead and down in the ravine … all over the place … naturally, the meat … and gulls … the gulls are from Rostock … Wamemünde … the coast … that’s where Rostock is … I think about the coast … there must be maps up at Marie-Thérèse’s … relief maps … in the old man’s library … and not just maps … scores of all the operas and ballets … and novels, all the classics … and George Sand and Paul de Kock and Jules Verne, illustrated … Lili was supposed to go up and see Marie-Thérèse … this sudden fool excursion had upset everything … this dash through the beet fields … I thought about all-this from furrow to furrow … way behind the porters … I could already see the church, the dock, the thatched roofs … what were we going to do with these fragile articles? … all internal injuries and fractures … once we got back? … my responsibility … but first I wanted them to stop! …
“Le Vig! … Lili! hey! Christ Almighty!”
They all turn around …
“Wait for me!”
All right with them … they put down the damaged goods … the ground doesn’t give so much around here … no more muck … more like gravel … I can get ahead … here I am!
“Doctor, where do you want to put them?”
I’d been thinking about it … the advantage of bringing up the rear … gives you a chance to think …
“Both downstairs in the drawing room …”
“Together?”
They didn’t see how … I explain … the big drawing room, the one with the cupboard … they’d be comfortable … they wouldn’t be alone … Lili, Le Vig, and me would sleep in the armchairs … I’d have everything I needed right there … cotton, ampuls, gauze … I’d see about the fractures later on … I couldn’t take care of them there … the first thing was to stop those shivers … maybe I could get an ambulance? … forget it! … the Lord helps those who … camphorated oil … I still had some … a box or two … enough … I feel Count von Leiden’s pulse … and the Revizor’s … very … very feeble! … I ask Kracht for some rum … I know he’s got everything when he’s in the mood … he’d better be! … and two blankets … I can’t cover them with two three feet of straw like us … they’d suffocate … the rum’s important … grog! … but come to think of it, there’s a bed in the drawing room, the old boy’s divan! … we go in … but what about his blankets? and the pillows? we look around … we don’t find a thing … those are the first things people snag … pillows, sheets, blankets … I’ve seen it myself on rue Girardon (No. 4), in Saint-Malo and Sartrouville … the second you’re out the door, pssst! gone! like rockets! … the first step! … all national awakenings start with the theft of bedding! … the very first day … you won’t find a sheet! … after the Convention, after the White Terror, or the one in 1944 … this régime, that régime, rubber stamps! but sheets … that’s something else again! … I say to Lili …
“Don’t waste your time, go up to the old bag’s, tell her we’ve got her brother, tell her he was way out on the plain and he’s sick, very sick … she should come down and see him … but first! first! to give you two blankets … not for us! for her brother! I can’t cover him with our straw, I’m afraid he’d swallow it and choke …”
Lili sees my point, she runs along … Kracht goes too … for the rum … the feldgendarme doesn’t want to hang around … nein! … nein! out of the question! not even for a cup of coffee … ersatz but hot … not even for a slug of the rum I’m expecting … nein! … dienst! dienst! duty! … he’d been sent to bring back the Revizor … mission accomplished! … not brimming with health, but definitely the Revizor! … now he had other missions … all urgent! … first to Moorsburg, his report! … then other things to investigate! … all sorts of things! … I ask him how many men … I mean in his detachment, his legion …
“Nein! … nein! allein! all alone!”
Its true I hadn’t seen any other feldgendarmes … this itinerant gendarme covered a lot of ground … allein! allein! … and no youngster! … about fifty-five, I’d say … more white hair than me …
“Guten tag! … lebe wohl! live well!”
Hefty handshake … and off he goes …
Well anyway, we’d had a bit to eat in that gully … I mull it over … but say, those other bozos … what have they done with all the meat they took?… I saw them … they each had a chunk … I never found out … but now I’ve got urgent business myself … sterilize my syringe … where’ll I go? … to the farm? … or to Leonard over in the barn? … Leonard had a stove, a kind of Primus … or up to La Kretzer’s? where’ll there be the least talking, the least explaining to do … explanations stink! … meanwhile I’m explaining … to you! … with another thousand pages to go! if I was rich, I wouldn’t explain anything! … no contract! no Achille! … I’d go to the seashore, I’d take a vacation … exhausted, my tongue hanging out … everybody’d be sorry for me …
Well? … where’d I have to talk the least? … at the farm, I think, with the moujiks, we don’t know each other’s language …
Damned if the gendarme isn’t coming back! … he shakes hands with us again … hard! … his conscience … that “goodbye” of his had been too abrupt! … and heil! heil! he’d forgotten that! …
This time he splits … I’m alone with Le Vig … and these two gazaboes on my hands …
“Hm! … you think … ? you think … ?”
Le Vig asks me … he’s starting to squint … now he wants me to explain … I wish he would just squint and keep still! … my patients are having trouble with their breathing … I’ll get out the stethoscope later … I don’t feel up to it now … Le Vig asks me if I’m cold …
“Look at the plain!”
“Say! Honest to God!”
“See anything?”
“No! … not a thing!”
“Good! … keep looking!” ‘
I want him to mind his business … right now, telling you this story, I could button up too … from my window up here there’s no plain to look at … or Zornhof … or Moorsburg … or the two old men … wonder what’s become of all that? … and the Apotheke … and Fontane in his bronze frock coat … and Kracht … and the old bag in her tower … and little Cillie … nobody knows … just talking about it people give me a funny look … I’ve run around seeing things … and people and estates and geese … that hadn’t ought to have existed … if I had a little tact I wouldn’t talk about such things …
Not many crows around here … plenty of gulls! gliding … high up in the sky … the first storms … up there they came from Warnemünde … here they must come from Dieppe … that’s what people say … they’ve been saying so for years … and from even farther …
I admit, even abridging as much as possible, I’m asking a good deal of you … kind reader, patient beyond a doubt, almost attentive, friend or enemy, you’re getting on to page one thousand and you’re
exhausted … stumbling, by my fault … in the course of this drawn-out pensum … over a word … here and there … stopped by a “shit” … oh, but how pleased you’ve been! … oh yes! … Théodule Ribot assures me that “man sees only what he looks at, and looks only at what he already has in mind” … from Bibot’s words of wisdom … I don’t have to tell you … to the conclusion that the reader’s head is nothing but one big turd is an easy step … loathsome vengeance! especially coming from an author like myself, despised to the hilt by so many plagiarists, jealous individuals of every stripe and camp, right, left, and center … denounced as a monster and enemy of man, a traitor to everything from Cousteau, condemned to me, to Madeleine Jacob, the muse of the charnel house, from l’Huma to l’Echo du Pape ° … agreement is rare among men, especially Frenchmen … you’ll never find them agreeing about anybody’s merits, virtues, or crimes … even dead drunk, vomiting, rolling on the floor … anybody, Landru, Petiot, Clemenceau, Foincaré, Pétain, William II, Mistinguett, de Gaulle, Dreyfus, Déroulède, or Bougrat … will throw them into dialectical controversies, interminable blahblah! … the little triumph of my existence, my tour de force, is getting them all … right, left, center, sacristies and lodges, cells and charnel houses, Comte de Paris, Joséphine, my Aunt Odile, Kroukroubezeff, and Abbé Piggybank ° … to agree that I’m the foremost living stinker! from Dunkirk to Tamanrasset, from the USSR to the USA … all these so-called horror movies make me laugh! … pathetic! … compared to me! … the dregs of degradation! … I’ve drained them! … We’d better get back to Prussia where I’ve left you out on a limb … to my so cheerless story! … my chronicle of those vast reaches of mud and thatch … the petty comings and goings and fears of those people so long since vanished! … how? … where? … of those villages …
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