The Americans, he thought as he walked along. Greedy and generous, that is what they were. Paradoxical perhaps, yet such a combination of traits made excellent customers for a man with Herr Honig’s talents. He took pride in his ability to manipulate these foreigners. A bargain hinted at: “She needs the money quickly, so the candelabra she is willing to sell.” Or snobbishness played on: “The furs were selected for a famous German movie star.” Or competition encouraged: “Your friend Mrs. Adams also inquired about such a Biedermieier table, but—”
He stopped at a small iron gate and pushed the buzzer. A dog came barking across the lawn. The front door opened and a woman’s voice called, “Oh, it’s you, Herr Honig — just a minute now and I’ll let you in if I can just figure out which of these buttons to push.” There was a short buzz. He pushed the gate open. The white wooden nameplate banged against the black iron palings: Colonel John H. Mack. The letters stood stiff and straight, as if to demand a salute for their owner. He looked from the nameplate to the woman standing in the doorway. “The colonel’s lady,” he murmured to himself. Had she ever heard of Kipling?
Mrs. Mack closed the door and came down the front steps. “I just never will understand why you Germans have locks on these little ole fences that any granddaddy hoptoad could jump over.” She laughed at her own exaggeration. American laughter puzzled him. He suspected that they laughed just to show off their good teeth. He could assign no other reason for it.
“Herr Honig,” she drawled, “your cars should be real pink. I just been talking about you. I was telling my friend, Mary Lou, about the dinner. All the ladies just oh-ed and ah-ed at the flowers — but when Elsa served the asparagus they were just bug-eyed. Course, one of ’em did say the green kind like we have at home does taste better but—” she smiled broadly, “I guess I’m like Cory, our ole cook, back home. She always used to say, ‘Yo all can Birds Eye if yo wants but Ah prefers to Fresh Vegetable’.”
The reminiscence caused more laughter. Herr Honig dismissed a slight frown. How much the woman talked to say so little!
“I am pleased that Madam enjoyed the asparagus. Perhaps I could get more in the next days. It is not easy. So many of the gardens were destroyed in the bombings.” He paused significantly.
“Today, if Madam has time, I thought we could plan for Madam’s rose garden.” He opened his brief case and took out a carefully folded newspaper. From its folds he took a long-stemmed yellow rose which he handed to her. She accepted it eagerly, sniffing its fragrance, then brushing a soft petal against her cheek.
“Why, it’s just like one Momma used to have, right by the side porch.” She started across the lawn. “I know just the vase I’ll put it in, the pale blue one.”
Herr Honig allowed himself a smile. “I suggest that we plant the roses before we pick them — if Madam does not object.”
“Whoa! I was rushing things a bit, but I can hardly wait to see all those roses blooming. I talked to the Colonel about the place you suggested for the rose garden. He said it was okay with him as long as we didn’t expect him to have anything to do with it.” She snapped off a dry ivy leaf from the corner of the house. “He doesn’t think you can move the statue.” She wagged her finger playfully. “But I just told him — if it can be done, Herr Honig can do it. Didn't he get me a hot-water heater in one day when your ole Army Engineers said three or four weeks.”
They had come to the end of the terrace at the rear of the house and stopped in front of a statue. The cast-stone figure depicted a young goat standing on his hind legs, his forelegs aimed straight ahead as if he were about to leap to a higher crag. She patted the rough head affectionately.
“He looks so frisky you can almost smell him.”
Herr Honig watched her. Could it be that she had any appreciation for this work of art? Had she heard something? But of course not — she would know no one who would recognize a piece of Sintenis sculpture.
“He’s a little too frisky for a rose garden, nicht wahr?”
She nodded. “I suppose so. If it were one of those cute little children with a basket we could let it stay, but an old billy goat cavorting around — how much do you reckon he weighs?”
“It would be hard to say. Two or three men could handle him, I think. I have spoken to my cousin about the truck. The difficulty is, of course, the benzine — the gas he could get some, but first he must pay—”
She cocked her head inquisitively. “And how many cartons of cigarettes will he need?”
“Cigarettes are not so good at the moment. Fat perhaps; Crisco — the three pound cans; soap — Ivory; coffee — but in the vacuum pack.” Somehow this amused her. She laughed again.
“I declare, Herr Honig, you’d be right at home in the A. and P. You know so much about American groceries.”
She turned and started back toward the house.
“Let’s go see how much of a down payment is left in the pantry. It’s just my luck to have ordered tons of cigarettes. Ah, well, the Colonel’s flying down to Italy the end of the week, maybe he can pick up soap there. I’m sending an order to the Export Company. What do you think I should get? Mrs. Adams tells me cocoa is worth its weight in gold these days.”
He shrugged. “Every day it is different. Who can say? You order it today. You get the order a month later. Maybe then it is cigarettes are good again.”
“Speaking of orders, I’m planning one for Sears Roebuck. Does your wife want anything besides the stockings and the sweater?”
“Madam is too kind.”
“Oh, Herr Honig, you know I just love shopping even if it has to be by catalogue. By the way, didn't the shoes fit your boys?”
“The shoes were fine, Madam. The boys are still wearing them to school each day.”
“I just wondered. Mrs. Adams told me that if I saw you today to have you stop by as she had some shoes for your boys. I knew they couldn’t outgrow shoes in three weeks. I thought maybe the ones I’d given them had been too small and you didn’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me.”
He glanced at her suspiciously. “No, Madam, the shoes were fine, but when their cousins saw them they were feeling bad. It did not seem necessary to mention the cousins. Mrs. Adams is such a busy lady I did not think to bother her with my relatives. Does Madam believe I should say—?”
She interrupted, “But of course not, I’m sure many shoes are needed.”
He studied her face. Her expression was guileless enough. His pleasure in swindling the Americans was never quite complete. He couldn’t even be certain that his subtler shafts of sarcasm hit their mark. Like the time he had told Mrs. Mack about the Russian soldiers being so impressed with German plumbing that they removed the faucets to take back to their own country. The anecdote had amused her, but she had laughed just as much when, after procuring a dinner set for her, he had inquired, “And now what will you serve on your fine Meissen? Spam?”
Then there had been the affair of the books. (Had the book dealer recovered yet? he wondered) Mrs. Mack had wanted books — about twenty of them. Neither the authors nor contents were important. The size of the volumes and the color of the bindings were the prerequisites of purchase. The books must be big enough to balance a collection of music boxes which she insisted belonged on the library shelves.
The bindings must pick up the color in the draperies — certain shades of green and brown would do. There must be some With illustrations suitable for framing, and several with red bindings. She needed red for an accent color. He remembered the pained expression on the book dealer’s face as she selected a magnificent folio of Albrecht Durer’s prints exclaiming, “This shade is just light! How many copies do you have?” It was probably the largest sale the store had had in months, and Herr Honig’s double commission — one from the dealer and an even larger one from Mrs. Mack — was only, he felt, his just due. Yet he could not resist saying, “We Germans have been told that China has a great culture but no civilization, whereas the United States has a great civilization but no culture. Does Madam think this is true?”