Since there were more than enough candidates, the clerks did little more than skim through their scribbled applications, which all ended in a request that the undersigned be accepted; they slid the letters casually to one another across the tabletop, amid the ashtrays, while the commander dozed in his seat for a short while after his sleepless night, a thin ribbon of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. The contents of the application were of no significance. They took only the older-looking boys who were already starting to sprout mustaches, sending the smaller ones home and making an exception only for a handful of special cases who, for their contribution to the operation involving the loudspeaker on the square, had already been issued with armbands as order guards — these were white and bore the round stamp of their office, thus raising them in importance over all the rest. Among these individuals, however, one more exception was made, for the son of the notary. In the presence of everyone he was forced to remove the official stamped armband from his sleeve, after which he was dismissed without a word of explanation, even though he too had made his contribution, and was by no means one of the smallest. Convinced that there had been a mistake, almost in tears, he afterwards hammered on the door of the biology lab. He was still making a fuss when the commission locked themselves in the room and began to tidy their papers. Finally, at a command tossed over someone’s shoulder, his pals who had been accepted into the guard grabbed him by the arms, frog-marched him down the stairs, and threw him out the gate.
Where he got to after that is hard to say. For obvious reasons he was unable to go very far. His family had heard something, perhaps from the concierge, who had seen him and his friends lifting the loudspeaker onto the stepladder, or maybe from the policeman, who had learned firsthand about the recruitment for the order guard. They sent the maid to the school — the boy’s mother demanded his immediate return home. The school custodian blocked the maid’s way and asked her for the password, which naturally she did not know. So he refused to allow her up the stairs until she reluctantly answered certain indiscreet questions that occurred to him in an imaginative moment, and until on top of that he had pinched her plump backside. He didn’t accompany her upstairs, as he had been on duty ever since he’d taken upon himself the duties of a watchman. On the other side of the lab door a hum of male voices could be heard. Before knocking, she peeped through the keyhole. But she could see nothing except billows of white cigarette smoke. The moment she opened the door and stood on the threshold, however, she was greeted with a burst of laughter. She thought they were laughing at her. Straight in front of her she saw the specimens in their jars. Her heart and her stomach were probably contracting even without this additional sight. Her gaze immediately encountered the disquieting stare of the horse’s eye. If I am the maid, as I peer through the white haze the last thing I would expect is to spot a familiar steel gray sweater on the other side of the table.
In such a case there was nothing to be done but drop one’s eyes and stare at the floor. The laughter died down, but they did not offer her a chair. Let her stand where the recruits had stood before, in front of the commission sprawling in their chairs at the table. No one says anything, and it’s obvious to the maid that they are waiting to see what he will say — the handsomest and most important one among them. The student holds back for a long time. Instead of speaking, he rings the bell. He looks at the notary’s maid, right at her, but his gaze is cold. If I am her, it’s my turn now. Even if my legs collapse beneath me, I have to state the business I was sent on: that the boy inherited poor health from his father. Here I will throw into the balance the long name of the hereditary illness he suffers from. Let the majesty of medical science force the respect for the family’s wishes that the lady of the house expects. Yet the name of the illness has completely vanished from her memory. The student smokes, his elbows propped on the tabletop, while she stammers, by now counting only on his compassion. But he has no compassion for her. And even if on a whim he decided to help her, he could do no more than point through the window at his unit of recruits doing push-ups in the school yard.
He gazed at his men in silence, for a moment forgetting anything else. Did they not look superb — tough and utterly obedient? She was supposed to point out which one it was. From a distance they all looked alike. Nevertheless, after a short moment she was certain he was not among them. Though she was frightened and in despair, still she could not conceal her admiration when she looked at him, and he could not fail to see it. If I am the commander, this chubby mare with fat fetlocks isn’t exactly my type. She hides her timid gaze under half-closed eyelids and keeps blushing, and on top of everything else there’s that unfashionable calico frock. From the screen in the dark movie theater he had known many women. None of them had a stutter. All carried themselves stylishly. He rang the bell again: her business bored him, and he’d had enough. Nevertheless, he followed her out into the hallway. For a moment he looked down onto the square, flicking ash on the windowsill. He watched her walk alongside the streetcar tracks, slowly, like a beast of burden loaded beyond measure. She could obviously bear a great deal. In fact, he had noticed this at once. He peered down to see where she disappeared from sight: she entered the gateway of number seven, as he suspected. The commander lost himself in thought, gazing into the depths of the entrance-way, till he was brought back to reality by the sight of the notary leaving the place. As commander of the order guard, he had to admit that the best thing the notary could do at this point was to begin searching for his son of his own accord without relying on other people.
In the meantime, the crowd encamped in the square was growing more and more exhausted. Rumors were starting to circulate about taxicabs that at a cost would take anyone who wanted to a better place. That better place was supposedly America. Word spread in the blink of an eye. With renewed hope, though not without a struggle, the refugees tried to imagine America, with its lofty mansions, its sleek skyscrapers, its metal needles thrusting upward in profusion. Many of the refugees, not knowing what still awaited them and what opportunities would present themselves, had already sold their more valuable possessions, and were now beginning to regret their hasty transactions, for how would they be able to make a home in America without their belongings? They could no longer digest the mouthfuls of dark bread they had swallowed. For the truth is that hunger can be tolerated so long as there is hope, and it is not advisable to give in to doubt too readily. Others regretted the missed opportunity to get rid of part of their luggage, which would not fit into any automobile. Resignation would develop slowly in minds and hearts like an insidious disease, reaching its final, overt stage no sooner than when it was already evident no taxicabs would be arriving from the side streets, where the pavement ended just beyond the corner; nor, even more obviously, would any leave from here. Looking for them in the distance was useless. The fact that the rumors about America were dreamed up out of nothing was obvious to the locals from the start. They simply shrugged, because they happened to know that there is no America. They counted rather on local means, on orderliness being restored by their own efforts — in brief, on the order guard, which embarked on its duties without delay.