Boehmer slowly unfolded his arms and made another mark on the pad. He reached without looking and touched a bell-push at the corner of his desk. “I see. Well then, Herr Naumchik, tomorrow at the same time, is it agreed?”
“Yes, Herr Doktor.” The nurse entered and stood holding the door open. The young man rose docilely and went out.
“Doctor says you can sleep without the wires tonight,” said the nurse briskly as they entered his room again. Breathing heavily through her nose, she stood close to him and began peeling off the elastic bands. “Don’t squirm,” she said.
“It hurts.”
“Nonsense, this takes only a moment. There.” She wadded up the bands, wrapped the wires around them and turned to leave. “Lie down now, rest.”
“But nurse, why do I have to be here? Am I sick?” the young man asked.
She turned and stared at him briefly. “Of course, you are sick. But you are getting much better. Now rest.” She waddled out.
AFTER a long time there was supper, and then pills to swallow. When he woke up, it was morning again.
“Good news!” cried the nurse, entering to plump up his pillows. “You have a visitor today!”
“I have?” the young man asked. His heart began to beat faster. He could not imagine who it could be. Someone from the Zoo?
“A young lady,” said the nurse archly.
“What’s her name? I don’t know any young lady.”
“All in good time. Eat your breakfast now, then comes the barber to shave you, and next you will see your friend.”
She left. The young man rubbed at the furry growth on his cheeks and chin. Shaving he knew, but not how it was done. It would be good to be shaved.
After breakfast the barber came in, a short, dark man in a white coat, who plugged a buzzing machine into the wall and applied it, with a bored expression, to the young man’s whiskers. At first it pulled and hurt him, then it was better, and at last the hair was all gone. His skin stopped itching and felt delightfully smooth to the touch.
He waited impatiently. An orderly came and gave him a comb, and he combed his hair in the mirror, several ways, until he thought it was correct.
Then he still had to wait. At last the nurse came in again, looked at him critically, and said, “Very good! Follow me!”
She took him to a little room with windows, rather bare and clean, with upholstered chairs and magazines in a rack. In the room stood a woman in a blue dress. There was a man in a white coat a little behind her. Glancing from one to the other, the young man recognized Herr Doktor Boehmer almost at once, but it was only when the woman stepped forward that he knew her. She was the woman in the store-the one who had slapped him.
“Oh, my poor Martin, what has happened to you?” she wailed, putting out her arms.
The young man stepped back nervously. “They say I am sick,” he muttered, watching her closely.
“You identify our young friend, then, Frau Schorr?” asked the doctor amiably.
“He doesn’t remember me,” she said in a tight voice. “But it’s Martin, of course it’s Martin.”
“And you are his-”
The woman bit her lip. “His sister. Will they let me take him away, Herr Doktor, do you think?”
“That depends on many things, Frau Schorr,” said the doctor severely. Come into my office when you are finished, and let us discuss it in detail.
“Yes, in a moment,” she said, turning back to the young man. “Martin, you would like to go with me?”
He hesitated. It was true that she did not seem so excitable as before, but who knew when the mood might not take her again?
“To get away from this place?” she asked.
The young man made up his mind. “Yes, please, I would like it.”
She smiled at him and turned to the doctor. “Very good, Herr Doktor, now I am at your service. Until very soon, Martin …” They both went out. In a few moments the nurse came to lead him back to his cubicle.
Then, although the young man waited expectantly, nothing happened except lunch. After the meal was cleared away he waited again, growing indignant, but hours went by and still no one came.
The orderly brought his dinner. He began to feel frightened. Suppose something had gone wrong, and the woman was never coming back at all?
The nurse would not answer his questions, but kept repeating stupid things like, “Wait and see. Don’t be so impatient. Why are you in such a hurry?” She gave him pills to take, and insisted on hooking him up to the wires again. Then he woke up, and again it was morning.
“Good news!” cried the nurse cheerily, entering the room. “They are going to release you today!”
“THEY are?” the young man asked eagerly. He tried to clamber out of bed, but was brought up short. “Devil take them!” he shouted, tearing at the wires. “Nurse, get me my clothes!”
“Temper, temper!” she said, raising her hands in mock dismay. “Can’t you wait even till after breakfast? Such impatience!” She disconnected the wires at the joints and tucked them neatly away. “Nothing was ever done in a hurry,” she went on. “There, go, wash yourself. All in good time.” She bustled out.
The young man cleaned himself and combed his hair again. It was hard to sit still. Breakfast came and he ate Some of it, thinking, “Now she is almost here.”
But more hours passed in the same endless way as before. What could have gone wrong? He stood in the doorway and waited for the nurse; at last she came.
He held out his hand. “Nurse, when are they going to let me out?”
“Soon, soon,” she said, slipping past him. “Go and comb your hair-don’t worry. It won’t be long.”
“But you said that this morning!” the young man shouted after her. It was no use. She was gone.
When he had been sitting for a long time, staring blankly at the floor, an orderly came in. “Your hair is a fright,” he said. The orderly himself had carefully waved hair, gleaming with oil. “Here, use my comb,” he said.
“When are they going to let me go?”
“I don’t know. Soon,” the orderly said indifferently, and went away.
Lunch time came. Now the young man realized that it was all a cruel joke. He lay down on the bed, leaving his dishes untouched.
There was a clatter at the door. The orderly entered, pushing a metal rack on which some clothes were hung. Watching incredulously, the young man recognized the trousers and surcoat he had been wearing before; the coat was ripped up the side, and the sleeve was grimy with some sticky, odorous mass.
“Put them on,” said the orderly. “Orders.” He went away again The young man dressed himself awkwardly. His heart was beating very fast, and he has trouble deciding which way some of the things went on. At last it was done, and he combed his hair carefully all over again.
Then he waited. Footstep came and went hurriedly in the corridor; white-jacketed figure passed and repassed. A bell jangled, and a boy in a purple rob went by carrying a candle in glass bowl, followed by a man in black robes, head down, mumbling something to himself. The bell dwindled in the distance.
A burst of laughter sounds from somewhere not far away “Well, you know what I would have told him!” a hearty male voice exclaimed. Then two voice began speaking together, in lower tones, and the young man could not make out any more of the words.
Footsteps approached the door again. In walked a woman.
AT FIRST he did not recognize her as Frau Schorr. She was more formally dressed than the day before, in a puffed skirt and overdress under which the shape of her body could hardly be made out. She looked pale and nervous and did not meet his eyes.
“Martin, they promised they would release you at nine-thirty this morning,” she said at once, “and here it is almost-”