WEDNESDAY WASN’T as sunny and warm as the previous few days. Daniel spent the morning in the cabin with his paperback. By lunchtime he had finished it. He heated up one of the cans of baked beans he found in the cupboard above the stove.
As he ate he looked out of the window. A restful mist was drifting over the valley, softening everything. He had always liked summer days like this, mild but sunless. He gazed at the rock face on the other side of the valley, with its patches of damp that looked almost human. It was odd that nature could come up with something like that. As if the valley had been populated by skinny giants who had walked right into the mountain and left these traces behind. Or like Hiroshima, where people had been burned onto walls like shadows.
Suddenly, in the middle of a mouthful, he remembered last night’s visit. The beam of the flashlight by his bed, the woman’s face that he had sleepily confused with his mother’s. Obviously it was the nightly patrol checking that he was there. Daniel had forgotten that they came every night and had gone to bed without expecting them. He had a clear memory of having locked the door from the inside, so they obviously had their own key.
After lunch he went to the clinic library and borrowed another crime novel by the same author. It all went smoothly. He didn’t have to give his name, just showed the book to the male librarian who said lazily, “Sure, Max, no problem.”
“You don’t want to check the book out?” Daniel asked cautiously.
“No need,” the librarian said with a friendly smile. “I never forget a face, or a book.”
He returned to the cabin, saying a discreet hello to his neighbor, who was sitting half asleep by the wall of his cabin, his face gazing upward like some huge toad. He spent the rest of the afternoon with the new book and playing a few games on Max’s computer.
He had been pleased to discover that Max had left his laptop behind, but he hadn’t managed to get an Internet connection. Instead he just found some sort of internal network for the clinic. Various links informed him of the treatments, courses, and activities offered by the clinic. There were even a few advertisements for shops and services down in the village. Hannelores Bierstube had a picture of Corinne in her puffy sleeves and laced-up bodice, with a frothing tankard of beer in each hand. Some of the pages required a password for access.
The link From My Corner of the Valley turned out to contain the reflections of the village priest, Father Dennis, who had been photographed in full regalia in front of his church. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters was the heading of this week’s observation. Daniel read on: It struck me that these words from the Psalms could well be about Himmelstal. Where could the pastures be greener than here? Where could there be a more soothing, babbling brook?
The priest was right, Daniel thought. He had never seen greener grass anywhere.
I like to think of Himmelstal’s inhabitants as a little chosen flock that the Lord has shepherded into this particular valley so that we might finally find peace, Father Dennis continued.
Daniel clicked on and found a list of that autumn’s film evenings, details of circuit-training sessions, the colorful assortment of flowers and vegetables available from the market garden, and a course on how to control impulses led by one of the clinic’s psychologists.
He logged out of the network and checked to see if there was anything else interesting in the computer. He found a few dull sports and puzzle games and an internal e-mail program, but not much else. The computer was strangely empty. Max seemed to have purged it of any personal files.
Daniel opened the e-mail without needing a password. There was only one message in the inbox. Under Sender it said Corinne. And the subject: Meeting?
He hesitated for a few seconds, then closed the inbox. He went back to the soccer game he had looked at earlier and spent five minutes playing it, without much interest. Then he opened the inbox again, then the message. It was very brief.
How about a picnic? I’ll bring something to eat. Sorry if I seemed cross and whiny last night. I was so tired. Hugs.
Corinne
So he had guessed right last night. There was something going on between Max and Corinne. Presumably their relationship was a secret. It could hardly be appropriate for a girl from the village to be seeing one of the clinic’s patients.
He had been right about something else as well: Corinne had accepted him as Max without any hesitation.
He had no objection to going on a picnic with Corinne if he was the one Corinne wanted to meet. But he wasn’t. And Max was coming back tomorrow, and Daniel had to stay at the clinic to be there when he arrived, and then leave.
He was longing to be himself again and not have to pretend to be someone else. He really wasn’t enjoying his stay here at this luxury clinic. Even though everyone, oddly enough, seemed to accept his false identity, he was still plagued by a gnawing anxiety that he was about to be discovered. And there were a number of patients here whom he didn’t like at all. What had that bloke in the dining room said? “We don’t like people who sail under false flags.”
It would be a big relief to get away from here. But how was that going to work, in purely practical terms? Was he going to have to go through the same routine with the beard as Max had done, in order to restore his original appearance? In order, so to speak, to disguise himself as himself? What a peculiar thought. That hadn’t occurred to him until now. But Max was bound to have thought of everything.