The shock was all the nastier because it happened to the air-men at lunchtime, just as they were getting ready for a good meal, their mouths watering at the mere thought of a white tablecloth, sparkling porcelain, and crystal-clear glassware. Their appetizing picture was befouled. But the lunch they had ordered ahead of time was awaiting them, and there was no reason to cancel it. Quite the opposite, the commander’s thoughts were continually circling round the meal, amid fears that some unexpected event would render it impossible. The square on which the airmen had found themselves in the early morning, no one knew how or why, all of a sudden became indescribably repugnant to them, and that which was most slippery in it seemed to match the color of the plaster. They could no longer imagine anything more squalid than ochre. But still, as guests they followed on behind the commander of the guard. They entered the café at number one, which had been closed to ordinary customers since the morning, yet was open to certain people all along. The proprietor had still not been in touch, and over time the waiter had grown used to the idea that he never would. For although the license was issued in the name of a front man, the actual owner was the director of the local government offices — the very fellow who had disappeared without a trace.
A pronounced stench accompanied the commander and his guests into the café. As soon as they took their places at the table, the obliging, lisping waiter took their boots to be cleaned. Sitting at the table in their socks, they finally felt a sense of relief. They ate with relish the special dish not mentioned on the menu: pork knuckle with cabbage. They also enjoyed the chocolate mousse, which, like the pork knuckle, they owed to the waiter’s resourcefulness. Everyone ate as much as he could without worrying if he would later be able to get up from his seat. It was all on the house. Nevertheless, the commander of the guard found the energy to try on the general’s greatcoat, seemingly just as a joke. Because of his rank, the general served himself first from the various dishes, and led the way in overeating and overdrinking. The moment he started to laugh, a button popped and his uniform jacket opened over his belly, showing the world his white undershirt. The general’s button was located by the adjutant in the semidarkness under the table and was wrapped solicitously in a paper napkin.
The greatcoat hung on the commander of the guard as if it had been made to measure; it looked unquestionably better than on the general even, and the commander glanced uneasily towards the officers, unable to comprehend why they too were laughing fit to burst. During the short moment he had had the coat on, his eyes had glowed with a gold-tinted metallic gleam, as if they had always belonged to the braided collar. Confident in his appearance, which inspired benevolence along with an appropriate admixture of respect, and which inclined the residents of the apartment buildings to see in him a model of noble courage and pure intentions, the commander of the guard felt that the golden sheen was his due. After all, he was the one that maids had crushes on, he was the one the grammar school pupils looked up to, he was the one wished well by old men watching out from behind their lace curtains. For a moment he imagined that the general would present him with the greatcoat out of gratitude for all he had done. Why wouldn’t he, especially if he could order as many coats of this kind as he wished? But what if, in the place he came from, there was not even one other such coat? So let him at least forget to take the coat with him when he flew off in the helicopter. It did not seem likely; one couldn’t really count on his being so absentminded. The general’s appearance also inspired respect, hinting at an iron will, experience, and a presence of mind that in the past had saved him more than once from mortal danger — otherwise he would not be sitting here at the table. One moment more, one more portion of chocolate mousse and one more glass, and he himself would start to recount the story. But what if the commander of the guard enlisted the help of the waiter? What if the latter agreed to take the greatcoat from the rack at a crucial moment and hide it somewhere?
However, first the helicopter would have to arrive, and there was still no sign of it. Was it not expected after lunch? The snow clouds had not dispersed but, on the contrary, had thickened. The airmen considered “after lunch” to mean more or less the same as “before dinner,” so everything was in the best possible order. By the time dessert came, they had already recovered their spirits and wished to have some fun before their departure. But what was it they really wanted? They weren’t interested in the billiard table of polished wood with its little pyramid of ivory balls arranged on the dark green baize. They would probably have preferred a noisy pinball machine with flashing colored lights, like the one in the air force mess where for years they had killed time in their off-duty hours. The officers were looking for pleasing distractions. But the commander couldn’t even show them a good movie: the cinema projector had been removed, along with the rows of seats upholstered in thread-bare plush, and the auditorium was filled with neatly piled sacks of quicklime, sand, and plaster that were evidently waiting for remodeling work to begin. So after a few more rounds, all they could do would be to have the waiter fetch a gramophone and then dance for a while, one airman with another, one officer with another, to the sound of the fox-trot. To amuse the company the youngest of them, the general’s adjutant, might put on, for example, a lady’s hat with a feather, procured from goodness knows where.
In the meantime, the inquisitive children from the orphanage had gathered at the window of the café and, unnoticed, their noses flattened against the pane, were avidly watching the spectacle: first the silverware maneuvering about the plates, then the fascinating remains of the chocolate mousse in a glass serving bowl, which eventually, to the astonishment of the audience, was shifted to the edge of the table to make room in the middle. The commander of the guard laid a paper napkin in its place and drew something on it for the airmen, who leaned forward intently. The general was enjoying a cigar and condescendingly watching the movements of the pen out of the corner of his eye. In the middle of the napkin there was a crooked circle. It was marked with numbers like the face of a clock. Above the twelve there appeared the word “offices,” and beneath the six, “school.” The number one was underlined twice, and a curved arrow led from it to the seven. At the seven the simple drawing grew more complicated. The dark depths of a gateway opened up here, cutting into the circumference of the circle; right next to it, in a jagged line, the outline of kitchen steps led upward to the right door. That was the best place to have the general’s button sewn back on, and also for any other services they might require. The personal presence of the commander could be awkward; it would be sufficient to mention his name.
For a moment the pencil hovered undecidedly over the napkin. If I am the young man whose gaze is fixed on the general’s greatcoat, I must just have remembered how she wouldn’t let me go. She clung to my cuff, weeping, and when I gave it a tug, she almost tore it off. She needed a single sobering blow to the cheek; after that she calmed down at once. On second thought, he could safely assume that she was stupid and submissive enough not to make any more fuss: the wily old general would know how to handle her. The abbreviation “x 1” probably meant that they should climb only one flight of stairs, though it could also have indicated that the airmen ought to go to number seven one by one, and never in a group. So the major would follow the general, then would come the captain, with the young adjutant last. The commander put away his pencil, raised his honest steel gray eyes to the general and, standing from the table, placed the napkin in his hands.