“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?”
“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.