14
Wednesday,
August 19, 1970
1964-65
She was there to meet him at the Altona
station. The hour was quite early by her schedule, but she was already fully
made up and coiffed, as though she were going to the studio. The morning was already
warm, and she was dressed in white a simple short-sleeved knee-length dress,
seemingly linen, and high-heeled shoes with no stockings looking very much
her spectacular self, and drawing the undisguised attention of the commuters
and others gathered on the platform. But a closer look at her face, just before
the kiss, revealed the appearance of fatigue. Without having to ask her, he
knew that she had not slept any better than he had.
They began to walk out of the
station to the parking garage, with his right hand holding his duffel bag and
his left arm around her waist. He felt the curve of her hip through the linen
of her dress and the silk of her panties, and it felt better than ever. They
had been apart three nights, nothing unusual in their busy, peripatetic lives,
but this time the time of separation felt especially long, especially since it
was a week since her period had come.
Are you going to work this
morning? he asked her when they reached her car and she opened the passenger
door for him. They were the first words spoken by either of them.
She did not answer until she
was seated behind the wheel. Yes, she said, but Im going to be late. And,
before starting the engine, she gave him one of the suggestive looks that were
her specialty.
* * *
At the end of August, shortly before studio work on The
Thirty-Year-Old Woman was to begin, Miki and Brigitte managed to work a
weeklong vacation on Norderney into their schedule. This time the weather
favored them for the entire week. Brigitte wore a wide-brimmed hat whenever she
was out in the sun, because the part that she was to play in the first episode
was that of a shy, homebound married woman who was not likely to get much of a
suntan.
As was her custom when their
took their vacation in August, Brigitte brought scripts to read. Miki, on the
other hand, had already submitted two articles that were yet to run, and so he
comported himself as a man of leisure. He decided to take some sailing lessons.
In the introductory class the
instructor, a grizzled old salt in his fifties, rather proudly announced right
off the bat that he was from Juist, not Norderney. He then joked that his
people had to worry only about the sharks in the sea, while on Norderney there
once had been sharks loan-sharks crawling on land, but now they were all
gone.
As anti-Semitic humor, the
joke was both subtle since it did not mention the Jews by name and crude.
To the credit of the Germans taking the lesson, no one laughed. Miki felt his
insides churning, but said nothing. He listened to the rest of the lesson,
learned some of the jargon and basic concepts of sailing, and went to the
office of the sailing school to tell the manager that he would not be
continuing with the lessons.
Brigittes reaction to his
report of the incident, later that day, was, Is that all? Arent you going to
report the instructor?
Report him? For what? For
being a bad humorist?
No, Brigitte said
indignantly, for being a damned Nazi. That so-called joke could have come
straight from the Stürmer.
I know. Im going to write
an article about it.
Thats nice, but Im going
to get that instructor fired. I might as well use my star power to do
some good. Whats the telephone number of the sailing school?
Please, darling
he began,
but he knew that it was useless, and he felt proud of Brigitte. He gave her the
schools brochure and walked out onto the balcony as if he did not want to be
present when she made the call.
But of course he heard it
through the half-open balcony door. I am Brigitte Wilner, he heard her say
after she had been put through to the manager. Do you know who I am? After it
was clear that the manager knew, she went on to tell him that the instructor
who had taught the beginning class that morning was a Nazi and had deeply
insulted her husband, who had been in that class and who happened to be a Jew.
She then listened in silence, and as Miki looked at her in the shadows of the
room he could see a satisfied smile come over her beautiful face.
Miki never did write the article
about the anti-Semitic sailing instructor of Norderney. He was small potatoes
compared to the Nazi criminals whose Frankfurt trial was still dragging on. Nor
did Miki want to go on record against jokes at the expense of Jews.
And there were other matters.
The presidential election campaign in the United States was heating up, and the
two Westerners, Johnson and Goldwater, were not the Countesss kind of
Americans, so that Miki was given more leeway to write about the campaign than
if someone like Nelson Rockefeller, whom she knew personally, had been
nominated.
A few days after the Wilners
return to Hamburg, the Johnson campaign released an advertisement on American
television promptly shown on West German newscasts in which a little girl
counted to ten as she plucked the petals off a daisy, when her counting was
overwhelmed by a countdown leading to a nuclear explosion, followed by Johnson
saying, These are the stakes
We must either love each other, or we must die.
Now there was something to write about.
Love each other, or die.
Johnsons stark choice made Miki envision The Garden of Earthly Delights.
Some day, after Franco had gone the way of Hitler and Mussolini, he would go to
Madrid to see the original triptych. He thought of the reproductions he had
seen, of the center panel depicting a loving orgy and the right panel with the
tortures of hell. But to him the orgy represented hope, not sin.
What was the meaning of the
love-or-die message for those who espoused hate, like the accused in Frankfurt?
As he was writing his article
about the daisy girl, Miki could not help pondering the fact that it was
Brigitte, not he, who had protested about the possibly Nazi sailing instructor.
He came to feel that it was not his place as a Jew to protest those
manifestations of human hatred that took an anti-Jewish form. He now understood
better why Jews like Goodman and Schwerner were risking their lives for the
civil rights of others.
* * *
He managed to sleep for a couple of hours after Brigitte went
to the studio. When he woke up he felt refreshed, though confused by what he
remembered of his dream, in which the image of a naked Brigitte alternated with
that of a miniskirted Fräulein Bothe.
He pushed the memory aside by
thinking about the essay. After he showered and dressed he sat down at his desk
and browsed through the photocopy he had made. He made little notations in
pencil at the places where some revisions might be made. Not many: no more than
one every page or two. In any case, it could wait until he heard from Paeschke.
He needed to reserve a hotel
room in Tel Aviv. Staying at the Basel, his favorite, might be too risky, he
thought. Even if he were not recognized, the owners were German immigrants who
might well identify Etzel Andergast as a fictitious name, raising suspicions.
He decided on the large, impersonal Hotel Dan. When he telephoned the hotel and
told the clerk in English, of course that he needed a room for Thursday
night and three nights thereafter, he was told that only single rooms were
available. That was fine with him, he said. He spelled the name Andergast for
the clerk.
He next telephoned Billung
and told him only that, if he were to hear any news about Michael Wilner, he
need not be concerned. He tried to call Max Schwab, but there was no answer
after eight rings. Some day, he said to himself, everybody will have an
answerer.
Regarding anyone else who
ought to be told, he would leave it to Margot. And Brigitte could tell Margot.
He bicycled into the center
of Blankenese and went to his bank, where he withdrew four thousand marks and
asked for it to be exchanged for United States dollars. We dont have so much
foreign currency on hand in our branch, Doctor Wilner, the teller told him.
He was told to come back in a couple of
hours, when they would have one thousand dollars for him.
Brigitte was home in time for
lunch. As she was about to take her first spoonful of soup, he said, Tomorrow
Im going to be arrested.
She put the spoon back in the
soup plate and looked at him without a word. He smiled.
Not really, he said, but
thats what will be announced from Stuttgart. Im involved in a kind of
espionage intrigue that perhaps will make a film some day.
With a part for me?
As my wife, certainly, he
said. He took a spoonful of soup, and she followed suit. But I dont know
yet, he went on, perhaps there is a mystery woman there somewhere that you
could play. Anyway, tonight Im going back yet again to Stuttgart. And what I
will tell you next is completely confidential.
She listened silently,
sipping her soup, as he told her a few details of the scheme he was embarking
on. He stopped the narration when Frau Schmidt came in to take away the soup
plates and serve the grilled fish with potato salad.
He had told Brigitte that he
would be traveling under a false identity, but did not specify the name.
Brigitte noticed the omission, and as soon as Frau Schmidt was back in the
kitchen, she asked, And what name will you be traveling under?
Miki hesitated. My
instructions, he said, are to tell you the minimum thats necessary, and I
dont think that my pseudonym is necessary.
Of course it is, she
retorted. What if something happens to you in Israel, and I hear on the news
that a German tourist named so-and-so got into such-and-such trouble? How do I
know if its you or not?
He had to concede that she
was right. My name, he said in a conspiratorial whisper, will be Etzel
Andergast.
Thats a funny name, she
said, but it sounds familiar.
It should. Its the title of
a novel by Jakob Wassermann. It just came into my head, out of thin air, when
they asked me what my name would be. Etzel Andergast is a young man who
searches for the truth. His father is a prosecutor, and he believes that one of
his fathers cases is a miscarriage of justice. The book Etzel Andergast
is actually the second part of a trilogy, after The Maurizius Case. I
have most of Wassermanns books in my library, by the way. You can look them
over if youre interested.
Wasnt there a film of The
Maurizius Case?
Yes, a French one, about
fifteen years ago no, sixteen. I remember seeing the marquee when we were in
Paris in 1954. I dont know if it ever came to Germany.
I think it did. I remember
seeing it advertised in Hanover.
They finished the rest of
their meal in silence. After Frau Schmidt had brought them their coffee, Miki
asked Brigitte if she needed to go back to the studio.
No, she said, Im done for
today. What would you like to do?
Its Wednesday, isnt it? I
think theres an organ concert in one of the churches in Lübeck this
afternoon.
What time is your train
tonight?
The same as the one I took
Sunday: the twenty-two-thirty night train to Frankfurt, then change for
Stuttgart.
Then we have time. I will
drive.
Wonderful. But we need to
make a little stop at my bank. And, by the way, one more thing. When you have
lunch with Margot tomorrow, tell her about this, as discreetly as possible. She
will know whom else to tell.
* * *
In the course of the shooting of The Thirty-Year-Old
Woman Brigitte actually turned thirty, an event that was duly noted by the
press. The party that was held for her at the studio, on the eve of her actual
birthday, was covered on television, and Miki could see a fragment of it on the
news in his Frankfurt hotel room. The news also reported the recent death of
Cole Porter, with a mention of Brigitte Wilners success, the previous year, in
Kiss Me, Kate.
He returned to Hamburg the
next day, in time to have an intimate birthday dinner with her. He had been at
the Frankfurt Book Fair, at which the Peace Prize was awarded to Nelly Sachs
(whom he had the opportunity of interviewing), and his present for Brigitte was
a set of three books. One was Balzacs Une femme de trente ans, in a
handsome new hardcover edition published by Garnier; the second was an antique
edition, beautifully bound and illustrated, of Goethes Faust; and the
third was an American book titled Can This Marriage Be Saved? It took
her about ten seconds to grasp its significance: it was the fulfillment of his
promise to remind her, when she turned thirty, that she was henceforth mature
enough to play a marriage counselor.
A few days later, a new
German Western film was released. It was not produced by Brauner but by a
Bavarian company, and it was not based on a novel by Karl May but on one by
Gerstäcker: The River Pirates of the Mississippi. It starred Sabine
Sinjen (who no longer worked for Brauner) and a clumsily dubbed American actor
named Brad Harris. Miki and Brigitte went to see it with Helmut and Margot, and
they all found the film entertaining. Miki found Sabine Sinjen very pretty, but
he could not help thinking how much better and more beautiful Brigitte would
have been in the part. In the cinemas lobby was a poster announcing that a
month hence another such Gerstäcker-based film, The Gold Seekers of Arkansas,
would be released.
Afterwards they went to a bar
for drinks. After Helmut and Margot went home Miki told Brigitte that
Gerstäcker had not written only Westerns or other novels with exotic locales,
but also some novels and stories that take place in Germany.
Would there be any with a
part for me? Brigitte asked.
Ill be glad to look in the
library, Miki said. The State and University Library of Hamburg made a point
of housing every book having to do with Hamburg, and since Gerstäcker was a
native of the city, his collected works would certainly be there. But I
remember a little story called Germelshausen, which I may have in my
library.
Didnt you once tell me that
the musical Brigadoon was based on it?
I didnt tell you; you told
me. Or rather, you told me that it was based on a German story, so I made the
connection.
Details, details
Anyway, Miki went on, its
about a young artist wandering in the woods when he meets a beautiful girl, who
takes him back to her village
I can imagine the rest,
Brigitte said.
Yes, they fall in love, but
actually its much simpler than Brigadoon. There are practically no
other characters. The girl leads the man out of the village before it
disappears because he misses his family.
How romantic!
Isnt it? In his other
writings Gerstäcker is much more of a realist. But in this story theres a
vivid description of a wild dance party thats similar to his description of a
Fourth of July celebration that he saw in America.
It sounds interesting,
Brigitte said. How old is the girl in the story?
Probably eighteen or so. If
I remember correctly, Gerstäckers beautiful girls are always very young. He
seems to have liked them that way. When he was a widower around fifty he
married a nineteen-year-old. But in this story age doesnt really matter.
Of course not. Please try to
find the book, sweetheart.
The next day he searched in
his library but could not find it there. He found it in a bookstore, a little
book of 77 pages printed in 1949, tucked in among the recently issued editions
of the novels from which the films had been made. He had it gift-wrapped and
presented it to Brigitte as yet another part of his literary birthday present
to her.
By the following day Brigitte
had read the book and was eager to talk about it over lunch at a restaurant.
Youre right, she said, the girls age doesnt matter. In fact shes quite
mature. But talk about realism! How are people supposed to reproduce in that
place?
They dont. Do you remember
how it happens in Brigadoon? At some point they were frozen in time, and
from then on they age by only one day every hundred years.
What if a woman conceives on
one of those days? Nine months two
hundred seventy days it would take twenty-seven thousand years for the baby
to be born! She laughed uproariously. The restaurants other customers, who of
course had recognized her but pretended not to, couldnt help staring.
My darling Brigitte, Miki
said softly, always thinking about sex.
I cant help it, she said,
taking his hands under the table. But she had thought about more than sex. She
had thought about conception. He felt the urge to change the subject.
One way to read the story,
he said, is that the whole thing is the young mans dream.
Brigitte thought for a
moment. Anyway, she said, Ill show it to Hetty, and well see what she
thinks.
Brigitte talked to Hetty
about Germelshausen that afternoon, and at dinner she told Miki about
the conversation.
I didnt have to show Hetty
the book. She knows it, and she also knows that Brigadoon is based on
it. She explained to me that the composer Fritz Loewe, who is a German Jew,
didnt want to write anything having to do with Germany so soon after the war.
She thinks that the story has possibilities, and she will talk to writers and
producers about it. But she also said that if I wanted to do another musical, Brigadoon
might be a good one for me, not as Fiona but as the other girl, Meg, who in the
stage version is just as important. In the film her part was cut down because
the American censors thought she was too sexy.
Then it sounds like the
right part for you, he said.
She ignored his comment. Hetty
thinks that it would be fabulous if we could do both the film and the musical
within the same time period, for example to have Brigadoon running when
the film is released, and use one to publicize the other. But this will take
some time. For one thing, someone will have to translate Brigadoon,
which hasnt been done in German yet.
* * *
The concert, as he discovered on checking the MoPos
cultural page, would be at six oclock in the Jakobikirche, not in the
Marienkirche as he had first supposed. This would leave them time to stop in
Bad Oldesloe and take a walk through the marshlands of the Brenner Moor.
Brigitte needed a few minutes
alone in her room in order to decide what to wear that would be appropriate
both for a country walk and a church concert. She emerged in dressy,
loose-fitting navy-blue slacks, low-heeled black sandals, and a sky-blue blouse
with loose long sleeves that could be smartly rolled up, as they now were. Her
blond hair and tawny face combined to give an image of clouds in a landscape of
sky and sea.
It was their second country
walk together in three days, a most unusual occurrence in their lives. The mood
was quite different from what it had been on Sunday. Miki felt excitement over
his upcoming quest, but no anxiety, and did not feel like talking much.
Brigitte sensed his reticence, and though she would have liked to know more
details than what he had told her at lunch, she refrained from asking
questions. It was a two-way deal: Miki would have liked to know more about her television
series, but knew better than to inquire. And so their conversation on the walk
along the pathways of the moor was about wildflowers and birds and dragonflies.
It was a novel experience for them, but a pleasant one.
Between snatches of
conversation, Miki let himself feel the warm, humid air as a foretaste of what
he would experience in Tel Aviv two days hence.
When they arrived in Lübeck,
Brigitte parked in a guarded lot outside the old city and they walked through
the Holstentor, and along the Holstenstrasse and the Breite Strasse to the
church. Along the way they got ice-cream cones: coffee for him, chocolate for
her.
They got to the church just
as Brigitte was licking the last of her ice cream, and they were seated in a
pew at five to six. The sense of timing for which Brigitte is famous, Miki
thought, is not limited to her acting.
* * *
For his thirtieth birthday Miki also received a book, but
not from Brigitte. It was from Margot, and it was not bound but in the form of
proofs. Margot had assembled a collection of Mikis articles from both the MoPo
and Die Zeit, from German, West German, Germanian to his reports
from the Auschwitz trials. She also had, unbeknownst to Miki, procured a
publisher, and a contract all ready for Mikis signature was included in the
gift package.
Leons gift was the usual
money order, the amount being Mikis age times one hundred dollars, but this
time there were two such money orders in the envelope, one signed by Leon and
the other by Fela. This amount, over 22,000 marks, was almost equal to his
annual salary, and would be of great help to him in meeting what he saw as his
share of their living expenses.
Brigittes present was for
him an IBM Selectric typewriter, on which she had already typed a page of
loving birthday wishes. The machine
came with a rolling cart, and Brigitte dramatically rolled the cart into the
living room of their apartment, where the small birthday party was being held.
On Brigittes insistence,
Hetty was at the party too, accompanied by a middle-aged screenwriter named
Otto Färber who was one of her clients, and, apparently, her lover of the
moment. But Hetty made an announcement: she had sold the idea of a television
series based on the marriage counseling idea to ZDF, reserving the rights for an
eventual feature film, and Miki would get a writing credit for having proposed
the idea. That isnt the kind of writing I do! Miki protested, but Hetty told
him not to worry: in this business he didnt have to do any writing to get
credit. In fact, her friend Otto would write the pilot.
Otto explained that the idea
of the script was that the marriage counselor to be played by Brigitte, Frau
Doktor, was having the same problems with her own marriage as the couples that
she counseled, and the humor was in her obliviousness to the similarities.
Hetty added that she knew the
main author of the book, Doctor Paul Popenoe, who had an institute in Los
Angeles. He isnt really any kind of doctor, she explained, he only has an
honorary degree, but he insists on being called Doctor and he introduces
himself on the radio with This is Doctor Paul Popenoe. But he gives good
advice. Quite a few people in Hollywood go to see him. I went to him with my
last husband, and he said quite frankly that our marriage could not be saved,
and that I would be better off not marrying again. I have followed that
advice.
The party took place, on
Mikis request, on a Sunday evening several days after his actual birthday, to
make sure that Brigittes period had ended, because to them no celebration was
over until it was completed in bed. But after the guests had left she informed
Miki that unfortunately she was still bleeding, and rather profusely at that.
He insisted that, if the bleeding did not stop by morning, she call her doctor
as soon as possible.
Brigitte did, in fact, call
her gynecologists office and was told to come in immediately. Miki accompanied
her. They took the underground to St. Pauli, because Dr. Severs office was
located there, and most appropriately so: half of his practice consisted of
examining and treating the women who worked in the districts brothels. The
other half comprised middle-class women in conventional marriages and their
sometimes and in recent years, since the introduction of the birth-control pill,
more often than not wayward daughters. Dr. Severs was, in other words, not
the kind of doctor who would typically treat a woman of Brigitte Wilners
status (as was Dr. Heyde, Ida Ehres husband), but he had been recommended to
her by Dr. Krause in Hanover, who had helped her overcome the menstrual pains
of her adolescence and whom she continued to see while living in Göttingen. She
even did so during the year in Frankfurt, when she would combine stopovers in
Hanover with her occasional weekend trips to Bad Harzburg.
It was during their first
year in Hamburg that she began seeing Dr. Severs, who had been a resident
together with Dr. Krause and with whom he still exchanged information and
performed collaborative studies. He became her regular gynecologist when they
moved to Hamburg for good.
When in the wake of Goose-Liesel
Brigitte became a star, it became necessary to avoid having her come in through
the waiting room. She was given a key for the door through which the doctor and
his staff entered the office, and this was how she came in on that day. Miki
was made to wait in the doctors consulting room, reading the MoPo,
while Dr. Severs and a nurse went into the examination room with Brigitte.
They were there for a long
time. Miki finished reading the paper and stood up to look at the spines of the
books on the doctors shelves. To his surprise, they were not all medical
books; quite a few were social-science texts.
Finally Dr. Severs came in,
sat behind his desk and asked Miki to sit down as well.
We did some tests, the
doctor said, and since Frau Wilners cervix is quite sensitive, we had to give
her some sedation to perform them, and she is still resting.
Whats going on? Miki
asked.
We wont know all the
results for a while. I have given her medication to stop the bleeding. We do
know that the blood that she was losing was not menstrual blood, but its makeup
is indicative of a certain condition, as are some other symptoms. But there is
a problem, and perhaps you can help me with it.
How so?
You see, the symptoms are
consistent with Frau Wilners age they commonly show up around thirty and
with the traumatic experience that she had as a child, but not with her
lifestyle.
What do you mean?
Well, my colleagues and I
find this condition in prostitutes and in women who have led a, shall we say,
Bohemian lifestyle, in other words, in women who have had many sex partners.
But I see from the chart that when I first saw Frau Wilner in 1957, she was
already married to you.
Yes, we were married the
previous year.
And how long was the
relationship before that?
Let me think four years.
Since 1952 we have been practically like husband and wife, and even when we
were not living together, when she was a student in Hanover, we were never far
apart I was first in Bad Harzburg and then in Göttingen and we saw each
other constantly.
In that case, Dr. Severs
said thoughtfully, Im going to have to perform more tests, including
biopsies.
You mean, theres a
possibility of cancer? Miki said, the alarm evident in his voice.
As far as I can tell, there
is no tumor anywhere, so at worst its carcinoma in situ, and that is quite
treatable. But it will be necessary to check her uterus and her ovaries, and,
depending on how the Pap test comes out, her cervix. But what I need to tell
you now is that, at least until her next period and possibly well beyond that,
perhaps for several months, there is to be no intercourse. I am not saying no
sex, if you know what I mean, but no intercourse.
Yes, Herr Doktor, I know
what you mean. Thank you very much.
Of course Miki knew what the
doctor meant. But while his and Brigittes sexual repertoire comprised a
plethora of foreplay and a multiplicity of positions (which she, for the most
part, took the lead in assuming), it invariably culminated in penetration. And
though she could achieve orgasm in a variety of ways, she never felt satisfied
until she received his gift of love inside her body.
At first, the exploration of
sex without intercourse was an interesting challenge for both of them, but
after three weeks they began to find it quite unsatisfying. Brigittes state
came more and more to resemble a menstrual period of indefinite duration, and,
as during her normal periods, her sexual desire dwindled to nothing.
The results of the Pap test,
which came in about then, were inconclusive; they indicated a mild dysplasia,
not malignant, but not consistent with the bleeding that she had experienced.
More tests would be called for, and the continence would need to continue
indefinitely.
Brigitte was still, at this
time, filming episodes of The Thirty-Year-Old Woman at NDR. In the one
that she was currently working on, her character was a spinsterish high-school
teacher who develops a crush on a student, and since the crush remains
unconsummated, she felt quite comfortable in the part. But she was beginning to
dread her part in the episode that was to follow: a Bohemian artist with a wild
love life. Feeling herself sexually unfulfilled, she feared that she would be
unable to assume the role fully.
She called Hetty to inform
her that she had a medical condition that required continence for an indefinite
length of time, and told her of her fears. Hetty, to her surprise, said that
she understood her perfectly. For a visceral actress like you, thats
perfectly natural, she said. She went on to propose that she, Hetty, would
inform NDR that her client would be, for medical reasons, unable to continue
with the series for the time being, and that she would ask ZDF to put Marriage
Counseling on hold.
As they say in America, I
will ask them to put it on the back burner, she said.
Then what can I do?
Brigitte asked.
Any part where you dont
have sex or arent in love with another character. A human character, anyway;
with God, it would be okay, Hetty said with a laugh. You could do Joan of Arc
again as you did so wonderfully in The Lark, but you can also take your
pick of Schiller or Shaw.
Shaw, of course. I did Saint
Joan in Göttingen. I havent done Schiller yet.
Speaking of Shaw and
Anouilh, you could do Eliza in Pygmalion, or Anouilhs Antigone.
Theres also Laura in The Glass Menagerie
all great parts! I could go
on and on
Brigitte found Hettys
knowledge of theater truly impressive. So how do I get these parts? she
asked. I am not in a theater company any more.
But youre a star, darling.
Any company would be thrilled to have you as a guest artist. We have a girl
working at HKA, Dani Hartwig, who knows the repertoire of every professional
theater in the German-speaking world, even the GDR, though of course we wont
go there.
But were in the middle of
the theater season!
Youd be surprised at how
much things change. Let Aunt Hetty take care of things, darling. I work for my
ten percent.
But there is a problem. I am
having a series of tests done for my condition, and I cant be too far from
Hamburg.
Then we will limit ourselves
to Northwest Germany. Shall we keep it to within two or two-and-a-half hours by
train, so you can make it to and from rehearsals on the same day? Then we
should have Hanover and Osnabrück as the outer limits, or perhaps go as far as
Münster and Göttingen?
Id love to work in
Göttingen again. I was very happy there.
Its where you got your
start as a star, darling. I remember Goose-Liesel. Yes, lets keep
Göttingen on our map. I will put little Dani to work. And I will see what there
is in film and television.
* * *
The concert had been superb Buxtehude, Reinken and Bach
on the recently restored great organ and they were back in Hamburg, beside
the main station, a little before nine oclock. Brigitte made a turn to find a
parking space and, miraculously, a space came free just before she drove past
it. Their plan had been to find a restaurant to have a little supper before
Mikis trip, but as they got out the car they discovered that it was parked in
front of a hotel. It was a two-star, not the kind where they would normally
stay, but they looked at each other and with smiles confirmed that their intentions
were the same.
The clerk was startled to see
Brigitte Wilner standing in front of the desk, but he also recognized her
husband, Michael Wilner, from having seen him on television news shows. He was
very sorry, but they had only a room with a single bed available. It did not
matter, Miki assured him; they needed it only for an hour. He paid in cash, and
they walked up the stairs hand in hand.
In the station, on the way to
the platform, he bought a sandwich and a bottle of orange juice for his supper,
and, once they were standing in front of his sleeping car, he gave Brigitte a
long, gentle kiss before he boarded the train without another word. The
conductor showed him the way to his compartment, where he ate his sandwich,
drank his juice, brushed his teeth and went to bed.
He thought that after the
lovely day he had spent with Brigitte he would sleep well, but it turned out to
be the usual sleeping-car experience. He managed to sleep only fitfully.
* * *
Immediately after he returned to Hamburg from the last
session of the Frankfurt trial, after hearing the closing arguments, he
received a call from Margot. It was to tell him that, as he already knew,
Israel and the Federal Republic would be establishing diplomatic relations.
Since Die Zeit did not at the time have a correspondent in Israel, Theo
Sommer had suggested at an editorial meeting that Miki, who as was well known
among the staff spoke Hebrew, should go to Israel to cover the presentation
of credentials by the West German ambassador. Afterwards he might as well come
back and go to Bonn for the converse event, time permitting. M-M and the
Countess had approved the suggestion.
Margots matter-of-fact
relaying of the assignment gave Miki a feeling verging on panic, as though
sleeping demons that he had left behind in Israel might beset him when he set
foot there again. Of course he would be there as just another German journalist
with a press pass, but what if he were recognized? As someone who had done aliya
and then left, just before he was to do his military duty, to settle of all
places in Germany, he thought that he might be viewed as a kind of deserter.
He thought of his kibbutz companions Tzvi and Ruti and Sara and Yossi and
Nili and Moshe and the others who were now all adults like him, perhaps in
positions of responsibility, and whom he might encounter, even in the course of
a brief journalistic visit.
These thoughts and feelings
went through his mind in a flash as Margot was asking, pro forma,
What do you think? He might have told her
of his misgivings if they had been talking as friends, but she was just doing
her job as his editor. He tried to wriggle out of the assignment by telling her
that he had not spoken Hebrew in a dozen years and would probably come across
as a babbling fool when he tried to do so. It was a lame pretext, and Margot
rightly laughed it off.
He resigned himself to
accepting the assignment, though he took pains to hide his feeling of
resignation from Margot and even to feign some eagerness. The need to be
insincere with a good friend like Margot made his stomach churn. After hanging
up he wondered if he was meekly obeying his superiors orders, like those good
Germans in the dock in Frankfurt. Of course not, he said to himself. There is
no moral issue here, only personal discomfort.
It was only then that he
thought about the older people he had known in Refadim: Hanna, Yitzhak and
Shulamit, Tzvis parents, Nilis parents
His mind lingered on Hanna. I
wouldnt mind running into her, he said to himself. Perhaps she will be in
Jerusalem for her hairstyling
With Brigitte in a state that
was tantamount to seemingly endless menstruation, Miki prepared himself for yet
another series of disturbing dreams, hoping that his anxiety would dissipate by
the time of his departure.
But Brigitte had news for
him. She had gone to see Dr. Severs after all the tests had been done, and he
finally found the diagnosis and the cure. What is it? Miki asked, but she
answered, It doesnt matter, its technical. She went on to tell him that
they had to abstain from intercourse for another six months. But its already
been three months! he exclaimed. Then it will be nine months, she said
laughing, just like a pregnancy! Her flippant remark provoked a pang that
shot through Mikis viscera, a momentary reminder that he would never have a
child with the woman he loved.
And she had more news. Just
as 1963 had been her year of Lois Lane, if only in the Cole Porter version, so
this was going to be the year of Joan of Arc, in several versions, and she
would accordingly cut her hair short. The Junges Theater in Göttingen was going
to revive its Saint Joan production of six years before, with the
starring role reprised by the now-famous Brigitte Wilner, in June as a
three-week addendum to its regular season. In the following season, she would
be in Schillers The Maid of Orleans at the Thalia Theater in Hamburg.
The most interesting
development, though, was that ARD, in Frankfurt, had made an arrangement with
French television to coproduce a series about Joan of Arc starring Myl`ne
Demongeot, but De Gaulle had, in Hetty Goldschmidts American parlance, put
the kibosh on it, insisting that such a production must be purely French.
Since ARD had already made an investment in preproduction, it would
consequently do a German version on its own, from a point of view that was far
less chauvinistically French, and Joan would be none other than Brigitte
Wilner. Work would begin in the latter part of August.
The next morning, as they
were trying to relax in bed after another night of intimacy without
penetration, he told her that he would need to go to Israel in the middle of
August, for a week or so, in order to cover the arrival of the first West
German ambassador. Her reaction was one of excitement: Then lets go there
together for a week before that! We can make it our vacation, instead of
Norderney! Then Ill come back to work and you can do your journalism.
He was taken aback. It made
sense to spend their August vacation somewhere other than on Norderney, since
to be on that island without making love in their accustomed way seemed
inconceivable. But despite the publicity efforts of the Israel Tourism
Organization to attract West German visitors to the Holy Land, it had never
entered his mind that Israel might, for him, be a vacation destination.
He had told her several times
before that he dreaded returning there, though he never gave her a single
concise reason. This time he explained to her that he would find the tense,
closed-in atmosphere that he remembered even more oppressive than he had then,
now that he had some experience of a freer world.
Brigitte acknowledged that
she had heard him express his aversion to Israel, but thought that he might be
ready to overcome it. After all, she said, you overcame stronger feelings
than that in order to become a German.
But I had you, he said,
feeling himself well up and taking her in his arms. His desire to enter her was
stronger than it had been since the beginning of their forced abstinence, and
he had to think about other things in order to keep it in check.
He had an idea. They could
have a weeks vacation together before he took on his journalistic duties in
Israel, but they would have it in Cyprus.
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