Most people scream their heads off at times like these, but Brenner didn’t scream once, not even when the slurry reached his most ticklish spot. If you think about it in terms of getting into a swimming pool, then you know that the slurry had already risen above the hem of his swim trunks now, and you should know, when it came to the hem of his swim trunks, he took after his sensitive grandfather again.
And the rope let out even farther. Brenner didn’t feel any ground beneath his feet. He prepared himself for the eventuality that he’d soon feel Knoll with the tips of his toes and shortly thereafter he’d be lying down there beside Knoll, but he still didn’t know what he was supposed to tell the criminals up above to make them pull him back out, and early enough that the lasting damages would be only psychological-sleepless nights, fear of every earthworm-but not bodily.
When I said that the hem of your swim trunks was uncomfortable, that applied to ice-cold swimming pools. For cesspools: the neck’s much more uncomfortable. And Brenner would have been prepared to betray everything and everyone just so that they’d pull him back out. But the only pulling that the pigs were doing now was on the second rope that bound his legs-so that he couldn’t stand on the tips of his toes anymore and keep his head above the slurry. His mouth would be free for a few more seconds, but he simply knew nothing about a video.
When he’d been completely under for a full minute or two, as he was starting to share the brotherhood of the cesspit with Knoll, it occurred to him, probably from the deoxygenation, what he had to tell them so that they would pull him out. He’d tell them that Helena would die if they killed him. That he’d hidden her in a basement, and if they killed him, the child would be left miserably alone to die of starvation.
Brenner, however, was already a little more into the next world than here in this world, of course. He was already so close to feeling eternal peace that he was mixing up the most important details. You should know, total peace is related on many levels to stupidity. Brenner’s lack of oxygen was now to blame for his confusion over the before and after. In reality, of course, he’d said immediately that Helena would die a miserable death without him. It had occurred to him right away, instantly, the very first thing. Because normally when your life is in danger, your only trump hits you pretty fast. And when your death is in danger, you play it right away.
And Brenner was absolutely normal in this respect, too. In other words: instantly! He hadn’t even been knee-deep in the cesspit when he howled: Kid! Basement! Helena! Helene! Because you can’t forget that his life was in danger. That his death was in danger. And as his thighs were sinking, it had long ceased to be news to the two altar boys by the cesspit and the two gravediggers on the balcony, because he’d already howled it out the moment the shit started seeping into his shoes. Not just once, but ten times, a hundred times, I have the kid, so loud that somebody must have heard it down in Kitzbuhel. I still say, someone should really investigate whether someone or other down in the village below heard Brenner-screaming for help, his life in danger-and didn’t lift a finger because that’s how people are!
Interesting, though: it didn’t seem to him like he was sinking. More like the threat of death was sloshing up out of the earth to meet him. Like the threat to his life was inexorably rising, like sewer water, above his ankles, above his calves, above his knees, and not as if he were sinking ever deeper into the threat of death. Because our senses deceive us like crazy, especially considering the fumes. And even though he bellowed that he knew where Helena was and that she would die without him, it now seemed like he hadn’t said anything, because it only occurred to him once it was too late.
If there is such a thing! But I say it’s lucky that in such desperate situations, the human mind is prone to mercy. Just like how we often glorify things with age, and it wasn’t all that bad, when I was in the war I got to see Scandinavia, when I was in love I got to visit IKEA several times, just as the consoling brain sometimes arranges the world in such a way that lets us think we had an impact. And when someone has cancer, then we say, well, he could have prevented it, if he’d lived accordingly, because sunburn, alcohol, white flour, dark meat, dreary thoughts, and, and, and. Or canoodling with a smoker twenty-eight years ago, i.e., nobody but yourself to blame for tongue cancer. And with self-blame, everything’s instantly half as bad, because at least an impact was made. And so, with his senses dwindling, Brenner felt around for Knoll in the absolute darkness of the cesspit, and still managed to think: I only have myself to blame because I should have said that I have Helena. And so you see that in dying he was already entering the euphoric phase-and all because of self-blame-and that is the greatest fortune that you can have at the end of a fulfilled life.
Brenner was happy to meet someone he knew on the bottom of the cesspit, too. But not what you’re thinking, Knoll. Because after sixty seconds in a cesspit-you get what I mean? By that point a person’s generally resembling a gnat already, more soft wing tissue than legs and arms-eternal circulation more than crude perfection.
Now, who was it, if it wasn’t Knoll? Watch closely: believe it or not, there on the bottom of the cesspit Brenner met the good lord. Of course it was a surprise, don’t even ask. Well, for Brenner a surprise, not for the good lord, of course. He smiled benevolently from the other side of the cesspit, which seemed about as far away to Brenner now as the other end of a swimming pool. But regardless, no doubt who the man was. The very fact that he glowed. Iridescent understatement! You can’t even imagine what a Hello that was for Brenner. Because first of all, he never really expected to meet the good lord even once-and if he did, then he expected a nice setting, with trumpets, with fanfare, with candlelight, with menus, with virgins, and, and, and. But no, Brenner thought-and he had to do a double take, he was so surprised to meet him in this unseemly place- in a cesspit, covered in seven feet of shit, I meet the good lord.
Interesting, though: the surprise visit didn’t make Brenner nervous. Not even as the good lord came closer now. And one thing you can’t forget: he moved insanely fast, he traveled faster than a light in the dark. And the closer he came, the better Brenner felt. Because the good lord, of course-charisma, don’t even ask. To him, the lackluster surroundings didn’t matter one bit. You hear that again and again, the real celebrities are uncomplicated. Prime example right now: the good lord. He just smiled when Brenner said, “So you do exist!”
To be perfectly honest, a slight note of indignance accompanied the surprise in Brenner’s voice. “If I had known in my youth,” he said to the good lord, “I would’ve had the girls lined up!” But then it didn’t seem that important for him to complete the sentence anymore, and he thought to himself, forget about it, main thing, don’t let the opportunity go to waste. Just a pity that I can’t tell anyone else now what a good guy he is!
But “pity” and “reproach” and “main thing,” the whole “alas” and “thank god,” didn’t mean anything real to Brenner anymore. You should know, when you’re sitting in the good lord’s lap, the earthly matters slip right past you. The MegaLand stooges up above were already irrelevant to him, he wasn’t even mad at them because-great terms with the good lord.
He only got angry when they pulled him out at the last second. And when his mind started up again, its explanations immediately kicked in, too, i.e., the light that Brenner had seen was only the light of day that he’d been heaved back into. His feeling of happiness was only triggered by the pleasant sensation of being lifted up and out of the cesspit. And the good lord’s swift approach must have been triggered by his encounter with Congressman Stachl, who-just as Brenner was being brought back into the light-flew past him into the cesspit.