And then he introduced himself, his name was Lorenz and he was the official receiver in the next-door community. The other man was a prospective buyer, an investor by the name of Schwab, who already owned a few other hotels in the area. I told them about Ana, and went to the lobby with them, and in a drawer behind the front desk retrieved the guests’ register with my own entry. Even so, the receiver remained suspicious. Had I not suspected anything was amiss? he asked. A hotel with no running water and no electricity. True, he hadn’t canceled the telephone, how was he to know that someone was going to squat in the building? I didn’t say anything, what could I have said? And where is this enigmatic woman? he asked. I said she would be here at seven, seven was when we always had dinner. The receiver looked at me doubtfully, and said he would be grateful if I would pack my things. I would be able to get a ride with them later. They would take another hour or hour and a half to finish what they were doing. I said I had paid until tomorrow, but he didn’t respond, and said to the investor that he would now show him the basement floor. I went up to my room to pack.
When I was done, I climbed up to the higher floors for the first time since I was here. They looked exactly like the one I was staying on. I opened the doors to all the rooms, but none showed any sign of occupation. From the top floor, a narrow staircase led up to the attic, which was crammed full of old furniture, Christmas decorations, cardboard boxes full of envelopes and toilet paper. A stack of straw wreaths lay next to an old sign with Yuletide Ball written among painted icicles. I found a dozen horn sleighs and big dusty Chianti bottles, but no sign of Ana. Even so, from the time I started searching the building for her, I had the feeling she was around, and would pop up somewhere at any moment.
After I had searched the whole building without finding anything, I sat down in one of the chairs in the lobby, not bothering to pull off the sheet. Eventually the two men emerged from the dining room. Herr Lorenz had a paper roll under one arm. He looked at his watch and made a gesture of impatience. Six o’clock, he said to his companion, I don’t want to keep you any longer. If you want to wait, replied Herr Schwab, I’m not in any particular hurry. I’m curious about this woman myself. He turned to me and said, surely I knew where they kept the wine, and couldn’t I bring up a bottle for us? I’ll do that, said Lorenz quickly, and vanished downstairs. What do you think of the place? asked the investor, is it bearable? He wasn’t quite sure himself. Two bankruptcies in short order didn’t exactly bode well, but perhaps it had just been badly run.
We sat in the dining room, and drank the bottle of Austrian white that Lorenz had brought up. At a quarter past seven, Schwab said he didn’t think the woman would appear, presumably she had seen the car parked outside and had panicked. If she even exists, said Lorenz. She exists, I said. Lorenz nodded and said, It’s all right, I believe you. We sat fifteen minutes more. The receiver locked the door, and said he would send the police up here tomorrow, to keep an eye on the place. While we drove down the valley on the winding road, I thought about Ana, and wondered what she would do now, what she would eat, where she would spend the night. I was certain that it wasn’t the car that had frightened her away, but me, with my thoughtless contact that morning.
I spent the night in a little bed-and-breakfast that the receiver recommended. In the morning I went home. I had a week left to finish my paper, and I worked hard on it for the next few days, often thinking of Ana. Only now did I understand what she meant in saying that what I got from her was much more than electricity and water. After I had sent in my contribution, I called the receiver. It took him a moment to place me, then he said the police had been up to the hotel and looked everywhere, but apart from the empty cans and the dirty plates, they had found no sign of a woman anywhere.
The Natural Way of Things
I’M NOT SAYING they tricked us, said Alice, but they didn’t tell us the truth. That’s what always happens, said Niklaus with a sigh, and he put a finger in the pages of the guidebook he had been browsing. It’s always different from what you imagine. You mean, it’s always different from the way the travel agents describe it, said Alice, and it’s always worse. Whatever, said Niklaus. They had had this conversation at least five times since they got here. Alice had expected the rental to be bigger, better equipped, and with a better-kept garden. She expected life to be different, thought Niklaus, that’s the problem, no sagging sofas or grimy ovens. And the oven is filthy, said Alice. Five minutes to the beach! she said with a sarcastic laugh. You hardly ever use the oven, said Niklaus. And as for whether it’s five or eight minutes to the beach, what difference does it make, we’re on vacation. Of course it wasn’t just about the five minutes. It was about Alice feeling cheated, duped, and about Niklaus being passive and not sticking up for her. You let them get away with anything, she said. He changed the subject. What do you think about driving to Siena?
ORIGINALLY, SIENA WAS an Etruscan settlement, said Niklaus. Under the Romans its name was changed to Sena. The high point of its development was in the thirteenth century. That was when the university was founded and the town hall built.
Trying to avoid the hordes of tourists, they had gone down little alleyways and had gotten lost. Niklaus was reluctant to take out the little map in the guidebook, even though it was obvious to anyone that they were tourists. When he finally did, they had long since left the historic district and were standing on a busy traffic street that wasn’t featured on the map. Normal life, he said. Makes an interesting change, don’t you think? But Alice had seen everything she wanted to see, the Palazzo Publico, the Art Museum, the Campo, and the Cathedral. Normal life was something she could see at home. Now her feet were hurting, and the rain could begin again at any moment. You don’t have a clue where we are, do you? I think, said Niklaus, turning the map in his hands, we must be somewhere around here. Alice hailed a taxi. It didn’t even slow down.
On the way back, Alice moaned about the tourists choking the old town, just to buy a few ugly souvenirs. They had no idea of the treasures in the museums or the beauty of the architecture. If you don’t know something, how can you have any feeling for it? she said. You don’t know what they’re looking for, said Niklaus, I expect they’ll derive some good from it, otherwise why would they all have come here? They come because they come, said Alice. And when they return home, they’ll go on about the toilets being dirty or clean. And the food expensive or cheap. That’s what life is reduced to for them, eating and excreting. She laughed bitterly. I know, you’re right, said Niklaus. He was sorry he’d suggested the outing.
THE NEXT DAY it rained buckets. Alice and Niklaus read all morning. When the rain eased up around noon, they went to the beach, but it was full of noisy families and games of beach volleyball. They hadn’t been there long when it started raining again. Alice handed Niklaus his umbrella and put up her own. They watched the bathers hurriedly packing their things and racing past them laughing to take shelter under the awning of the beach restaurant. Serves them right, said Alice. Her mood seemed to have brightened slightly.