Adam and Evelyn (23 page)

“I don’t know, maybe this is just flapdoodle,” Rudolf said, looking now at one, now at the other. “And if it is, then I apologize, it’s only a suggestion. I don’t want to interfere in your affairs.”

“What’s this about?” Adam asked.

“As I said, it’s just a suggestion, I don’t know how much your car is worth, it’s something of an old-timer, and I’m just saying—”

“It’s not an old-timer.”

“I might give you, I could give you three thousand for it. I don’t know if that’s too much or too little, just a suggestion. I like the car, it’s
got some style, that steering wheel, the dashboard, the fenders—some real style.”

“Three thousand?” Evelyn asked.

“A suggestion, like I said—I really haven’t got the foggiest—”

“But that’s a car that’s lived its life in a garage,” Evelyn said.

“That’s obvious, you can see, no rust—been really well taken care of.”

“You mean three thousand Westmarks?” Adam asked.

“Yes, of course. Three thousand, cash.”

“Cash?”

“You’d have it within half an hour.”

“Cash in my hand?”

“Yes, a suggestion, just a suggestion. Might you be interested?”

“On the whole, yes, that’d probably be the best thing. I mean, in our situation.” He glanced at Evelyn, who was glaring at him.

“Don’t want you to think that I’m trying to take advantage of your situation.”

“But you are,” Evelyn said softly.

“Evi, that wasn’t helpful.”

“I’ll also take you wherever you need to go, that’s no problem.”

“It’s none of my business,” Evelyn said, “but three thousand for a car like that—that’s peanuts.”

“Evi, it’s an offer.”

“I thought your car was not for sale, that’s what you’ve always said. That car was the reason you wanted a second garage.”

“We’re just talking here.”

“Why all of a sudden now, at the first offer that comes along?”

“I’m really very sorry, I didn’t intend for you to—”

“It’s a good offer.”

“That’s not true, Adam, you know yourself that’s not true.” Evelyn burst out laughing. “He’s married to that thing, Rudolf. Did you know that? He belongs to it.”

“Ohmymymymy, it was just an idea. I’m going to go poke my
head in the kitchen,” Rudolf said, stood up, and took his coffee cup with him.”

“Three thousand is damn good, Evi. I can exchange it at eight or nine to one and it’d be like getting that Lada for free.”

“Does it take just three thousand Westmarks to turn you into a madman?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Adam said, picking up his egg and beheading it. He cut a roll open and smeared the halves with butter and began to eat. Evelyn watched him as he swallowed and hastily took another bite.

“Do what you want. But then you do that in any case.”

She lit a cigarette.

“Aren’t you going to eat any more of that?”

“It’s all yours.”

“I’m just saying it’d be a shame to waste it.”

Adam took the roll she had already bitten into and laid it on his plate. “Let’s fix up a couple of sandwiches to take along—or is that something you’d rather not do.”

Evelyn pulled the ashtray closer. “I should have taken the train, that would have simplified everything.”

“Then they would have shoved you into some sort of tent. The nights are really cold here now.”

“At least go get him,” Evelyn said. “It’s all embarrassing enough as it is.”

“It’s good coffee, almost better than at the Angyals’.”

“Should I leave?” Evelyn asked.

“One step at a time,” Adam said and went on eating.

Evelyn stubbed out her cigarette, grabbed a couple of grapes, reached for the room key, and stood up.

“Evi, wait a sec, please.”

She turned halfway around.

“Evi,” he said, then wiped his mouth with his napkin and was sliding
his way out from behind the table when the Bible fell from the bench.

“So what is it?”

Adam bent down. He couldn’t find the Bible right away. “I wanted to ask you …,” he said as he straightened up, pressing the book to his chest, “I wanted to ask you if you’ll marry me.” He took another step in her direction. “I’m very serious, will you?” He took hold of her right hand and rubbed his thumb across her fingers and the ruby red ring. “You are so beautiful,” Adam said and smiled.

“What made you ask that?”

“Would the lady and gentleman like anything else?” the waitress asked, staring at the Bible in Adam’s hand.

Evelyn and Adam shook their heads in sync. “Or wait,” Adam called after her. “Maybe two more coffees, please, if that’s all right? Is Rudi still here?”

“STAY HERE.”

“Not enough room.”

“Don’t you want to listen in?”

“And it stinks in here.”

“Then leave the door open.”

Evelyn leaned her back against the door. Adam was holding the receiver and an address book in one hand.

“It’s weird, pressing numbers.”

“Why’s that?”

“It goes so fast.”

He laid a few one-mark coins on top of the phone and looked at Evelyn.

“Hello?” he asked, turning back to the phone. “Yes, hello, this is Lutz, Waltraud and Manfred’s son. Could I speak with Gisela, please, Gisela Luppolt. Lutz, yes, we’re in Bavaria—in Bavaria!—not far from Rosenheim, in Haidholzen, or I guess it’s more Stephanskirchen—with Evelyn, we’re here together—yes, from Hungary, with the car, and made it this far—we wanted to ask, if we could see you sometime, arrange to meet …”

Adam held his hand over the mouthpiece. “Her husband. Aunt Gisela? Hello, this is Lutz—Adam, yes, sure, Adam—whatever. Rosenheim,
near Rosenheim—hadn’t planned on it, but we just thought if they’re going to open the border, we’d take advantage of it, probably won’t happen again soon. No problem at all, with the car, just like that. Five days ago. We’re living here with a family, in their kids’ old room. Rudolf, the fellow we’re staying with, has been driving us around, to Trostberg, to get our checklist of all the various offices we need to visit for registration and insurance, all sorts of stuff, and there’ll be some questioning too, but only in my case, and that has to be done here. I don’t know, not a clue, they want to know where I was stationed in the army and so on. No, we’ve been lucky, given how chilly it is at night. We’ve had good luck, really, a lot of good luck. Evelyn, her name’s Evelyn—no, not yet, but we’re together, we thought if we can manage the border we can manage the next step. Not yet, but we may get around to it.”

He turned back to Evelyn to nod at her.

“I can’t say yet, it happened just sort of whizbang, now or never. Work, of course, work, Evi plans to study, in Munich maybe. Twenty-one, she wasn’t allowed to before, they wouldn’t let her, at least not to study what she wanted—yes—would we ever—love to—no question—absolutely—hey, that doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter at all.”

Adam put another mark in. Evelyn pressed against the door and stepped outside. She walked past the drugstore and sat down on a bus-stop bench. Two men had just emerged from a bank, gesturing and engaged in a lively conversation. They now shook hands and parted. After taking a few steps, the tall one turned around and called out something, so that the shorter one, his hands thrust into his coat pockets, likewise turned around in midstride, but instead of answering he just raised his left arm for a brief wave. Sparrows nearby rose up in a flutter, and with them several pigeons. Evelyn closed her eyes and held her face up to the sun. Then she laid her head to one side, until she could feel the collar of her quilted blue jacket against her cheek. The jacket smelled of detergent and something else, some unfamiliar scent.

“What are you up to?” Adam called. “I’ve been looking for you.”

He had startled Evelyn. Now she leaned back again.

“Have a seat,” she said and closed her eyes again.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you see me?”

“There were these two men just now. At first I thought they were deaf-mutes, they were making such wild gestures.”

“Why didn’t you wait?”

“But I did wait.”

Adam sat down beside her. “We can move in with them. They have a kind of guestroom, separate shower and toilet just for us. No charge either, we’re invited guests.”

“Great.”

“What’s with you?”

“Nothing, that’s super.”

“She was very cordial. I didn’t have to explain anything, she just said right off that we should come.”

Evelyn nodded and pulled the zipper on her jacket up as high as it would go, till her mouth vanished in the collar.

“Don’t you want to now? Do you want to stay here instead?”

“Telephoning is really not your strong point.”

“Are you going to start in again?”

“You wanted me there with you.”

“Yes, to listen in.”

“But you didn’t let me listen in.”

“You should have given me a signal.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m not doing this for the fun of it. It’s a shitty situation to be in. I want to hear what you have to say too.”

“It turns you into a total stranger, it’s scary.”

“Do you want to stay here?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then don’t make such a face.”

“I can’t help it. I’ve got to get used to you again.”

“I thought we had all that behind us.”

“I thought so too,” Evelyn said. “Did you tell them we’ll be bringing Elfriede?”

“That’s not all that important.”

“Somehow it all feels just like it used to—”

“ ‘Somehow’?”

“Like when school started up after summer vacation.”

“I always liked those first few days of school. No need yet for a guilty conscience.”

“I’ve been wondering the whole time if it was the right thing to do, sending Mona the second key.”

“It’s a good idea if somebody in town knows what’s what—not just your mother.”

“I would like to have told her myself.”

“It’s going to be a shock no matter what.”

“She even signed something once, she’s not allowed to have any contacts with the West.”

“You’re her daughter, that’s a whole different thing.”

“Just the opposite, it could cost her her job.”

They sat there for a while, not saying anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Evelyn asked.

“Ah, nothing.”

“A person’s always thinking about something.”

“In Dresden, on the platform, as your train was pulling out, I helped a man with two suitcases. I think he was the porter at your hotel.”

“At the Jalta?”

“Yes. His suit was a kind of summer wool, very light, very unusual. You can’t find it in our shops.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” Adam said.

“Did you have anything to eat this morning?” Evelyn asked.

“You smell good.”

“And you’re stubbly,” Evelyn said. She leaned against him, took hold of his arm, and held tight with both hands.

“DID YOU
receive the forms?”

“No.”

“That can’t be, actually. Here, this is what they look like.”

The man across from her, who had stood up and extended his hand to greet her, now held up several pieces of paper. “Didn’t you fill these out along with the others, with someone to help you?”

“We’re staying with friends. I didn’t receive it.”

“That can’t—as I said, I’m quite certain that along with the rest you …”

He squared the pages of forms on his desk and wrote a couple of numbers in a dark bordered box.

“You’re surely aware of what it’s like around here,” he said as if to himself. He looked tired, sitting there across from her. Evelyn liked him, it was as if they had met somewhere before—a man of about fifty, with a thin mustard-colored sweater, a pastel shirt underneath.

“So then, last and first names?”

“Schumann, Evelyn.”

“Born?”

“May 19, 1969.”

“Where?”

“In Torgau.”

“Torgau? In Saxony?”

“Yes, on the Elbe, district of Leipzig.”

“Your parents?”

“What do you need to know that for?” she said with a smile. He was so stiff, he needed to smile too.

“It’s all a part of it. Your parents?”

“With date and place of birth? I was raised by my grandparents until my mother was finished with her studies.”

“Then your mother first.”

“Born November 11, 1946, in Wittenberg.”

“Her profession?”

“Economist.”

“Economist for what?”

“Well in general, for production. She works in Wolfen.”

“And what does she do there?”

He wrote slowly, hesitating at times before setting the tip of his ballpoint to paper, as if it were a drawing.

“Your father?”

“He came from Turkey, and vanished there again too. Never contributed a penny.”

“A man from Turkey, in East Germany?”

“From West Berlin. My mother studied in Berlin.”

“You can provide no further information?”

“They never saw each other again.”

“Siblings?”

“I have a brother, a half-brother, Sascha, he’s twelve.”

“Your education?”

“Graduated from high school. Three semesters of pedagogy at the University of Jena. Since 1988 I’ve been training as a waitress.”

Evelyn lit a cigarette. “May I?” she asked, when the man scowled. She smiled.

“It’s not usual here,” he said and pushed an empty ashtray across. “Did you come alone?”

“No, with my life partner. We plan to get married.”

“And what is your life partner’s name?”

“I thought you interrogate only men who’ve been in the army, am I right?”

“I need it for your records. You arrived together.”

“Frenzel.”

“First name? You do know that …”

“Lutz is his name, Lutz Frenzel.”

“And born?”

“In 1956, December sixth.”

“And where?”

“You’ll have to ask him, I don’t know.”

“How long have you been acquainted?”

“Since 1987.”

“You were living together?”

“At his home, his parents’ former home. Since his father’s death he’s lived there alone.”