Thinking these thoughts, he slowly went over to the stoker, pulled the stoker’s right hand out of his belt and held it playfully in his own. “Why don’t you say anything?” he asked. “Why do you let them treat you like this?”
The stoker just wrinkled his forehead as if searching for the words to express himself.
“You’ve suffered an injustice, more than anyone else on this ship, I know that for sure.” And Karl pulled his fingers back and forth between those of the stoker, who looked around with shining eyes, as if experiencing a moment of bliss that no one could take away from him.
“You’ve got to stand up for yourself, say yes and no, otherwise people won’t have a clue about the truth. You’ve got to promise me that you’ll do as I’ve said, because I’m very much afraid that I won’t be able to help you at all any more.” Karl was crying as he kissed the stoker’s chapped, almost lifeless hand, pressing it against his cheek like a treasure he had to give up. — Then his uncle was at his side and, ever so gently, pulled him away.
“The stoker seems to have captivated you,” he said, and looked knowingly over Karl’s head at the captain. “You felt abandoned, you found the stoker and you’re grateful to him, that’s very commendable. But, for my sake, don’t take it too far, and please start to learn your station.”
Outside the office there was a sudden racket, shouting, and it even seemed as if someone was being brutally shoved against the door. A seaman came in, a little dishevelled and wearing a girl’s apron. “There are people outside,” he said, jabbing his elbows as if still in the ruckus. Finally he got a hold on himself and tried to salute the captain, but then noticed the apron, ripped it off, threw it on the floor and shouted, “That’s disgusting! They’ve tied a girl’s apron on me.” Then he clicked his heels and saluted. Someone began to laugh, but the captain said severely, “That’s what I call a good mood. Who’s outside?”
“They’re my witnesses,” said Schubal, stepping forward. “I sincerely apologize for their behaviour. When people have a sea voyage behind them, they sometimes get a little crazy.”
“Call them in right away,” ordered the captain and, turning straight to the senator, he spoke politely but briskly: “If you’d be so good, Senator, as to follow this seaman with your nephew, he’ll take you to the boat. I’m sure I don’t have to say what a pleasure and an honour it’s been to make your personal acquaintance. I only hope that we’ll soon have an opportunity to carry on our conversation about the state of the American fleets, and perhaps we’ll again be interrupted as pleasantly as we were today.”
“One nephew’s enough for the time being,” said his uncle with a laugh. “And now please accept my sincerest thanks for your kindness, and I hope all goes well until we next meet. It’s actually quite possible that we”—he gave Karl an affectionate squeeze—“might end up spending some time with you when we take our next trip to Europe.”
“It would be a great pleasure,” said the captain. The two men shook hands. Karl could only give his hand briefly and wordlessly, because the captain’s attention was already consumed by the fifteen people who had trooped in, a little sheepish but still very noisy, under the supervision of Schubal. The seaman asked the senator for permission to go ahead and then cleared a way for him and Karl, who moved easily through the crowd of bowing crewmen. It seemed that these good-natured people thought of Schubal’s quarrel with the stoker as a joke that even the captain could share. Among them Karl noticed the girl from the kitchens, Lina, who winked at him playfully and tied on the apron that the seaman had thrown to the floor, because it was hers.
Still following the seaman, they left the office and turned off into a narrow corridor that, after a few steps, brought them to a little door from which a short staircase led down to the boat that had been made ready for them. The seamen in the boat—into which their chief made a single, sudden leap—stood up and saluted. The senator was just giving Karl a warning to be careful going down the steps when Karl burst into painful tears. The senator took hold of Karl’s chin, pressed Karl to him, and stroked his head with his other hand. In this way, step by step, they went slowly down the stairs and got into the boat, where the senator chose a good seat for Karl directly opposite himself. At a sign from the senator, the seamen pushed off from the ship and were immediately rowing hard. They were hardly a few feet from the ship when Karl noticed to his surprise that they were on the side of the ship with the windows that looked into the office. All three windows were filled with Schubal’s witnesses, who waved and shouted goodbye so cheerfully that his uncle waved back and one of the seaman performed the trick of blowing a kiss off his hand without breaking the rhythm of his strokes. It was really as if the stoker didn’t exist any more. Karl took a closer look at his uncle, whose knees were almost touching his own, and started to wonder whether this man could ever replace the stoker in his heart. His uncle avoided meeting his eye and looked out at the waves that were rising and falling around their boat.
GIVE UP!
IT WAS VERY EARLY in the morning, the streets clean and empty, I was going to the train station. When I compared a clock tower with the time on my watch, I saw that it was already much later than I’d thought and I really had to get a move on; the shock of this realization made me start to doubt which direction I was heading in, I didn’t yet know the city very well; luckily there was a policeman nearby, I ran over to him and breathlessly asked him the way. He smiled and said, “You want me to tell you the way?”
“Yes,” I said, “because I can’t find it myself.”
“Give up, give up,” he said, and turned away abruptly, like someone who wanted to be alone with his laughter.
Translator’s Acknowledgments
With thanks to Anoushiravaan Darabi,
Adam Freudenheim, Laura Macaulay
and Stella Powell-Jones.
Other Authors published by Pushkin Press
STEFAN ZWEIG · EDGAR ALLAN POE · ISAAC BABEL · TOMÁS GONZÁLEZ · ULRICH PLENZDORF · JOSEPH KESSEL · VELIBOR ČOLIĆ · LOUISE DE VILMORIN · MARCEL AYMÉ · ALEXANDER PUSHKIN · MAXIM BILLER · JULIEN GRACQ · BROTHERS GRIMM · HUGO VON HOFMANNS THAL · GEORGE SAND · PHILIPPE BEAUSSANT · IVÁN REPILA · E.T.A. HOFFMANN · ALEXANDER LERNET HOLENIA · YASUSHI INOUE · HENRY JAMES · FRIEDRICH TORBERG · ARTHUR SCHNITZLER · ANTOINE DE SAINT EXUPÉRY · MACHI TAWARA · GAITO GAZDANOV · HERMANN HESSE · LOUIS COUPERUS · JAN JACOB SLAUERHOFF · PAUL MORAND · MARK TWAIN · PAUL FOURNEL · ANTAL SZERB · JONA OBERSKI · MEDARDO FRAILE · HÉCTOR ABAD · PETER HANDKE · ERNS T WEISS · PENELOPE DELTA · RAYMOND RADIGUET · PETR KRÁL · ITALO SVEVO · RÉGIS DEBRAY · BRUNO SCHULZ · TEFFI EGON HOSTOVSKÝ · JOHANNES URZIDIL · JÓZEF WITTLIN
Copyright
Pushkin Press
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London WC2H 9JQ
English translation © Alexander Starritt 2018
This translation first published by Pushkin Press in 2018
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ISBN 13: 978–1–78227–440–7
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