Romeo

The greatest difficulty for me is the language. German is like the enemy’s forest: you dodge one trap and you’ve already stepped into the next one. If it weren’t for that cursed language, I wouldn’t feel so much contempt. I look like someone who could be from anywhere, and whenever I have a meal with garlic in it I rinse my mouth out thoroughly. I would smash some of their faces in if I knew a better way to earn money. In five years, I’ll have earned enough unless tragedy strikes. The man at the bank treats me as if I’d stolen the money I’m depositing from him. He taps his finger repeatedly on the spot where I’m supposed to sign and looks at me with impatience. I hope that, in five years when I withdraw it all, it will be the same man. I’ll put the whole amount in my pocket and tell him not to look at me like it was his money. He’ll shrug his shoulders disparagingly and tell me with his eyes that I’m scum. Next I’ll tell him to take his ugly eyes off me. Maybe I’ll say he can look at his wife that way, if she’ll put up with it, but not me. Then he’ll ask whether I’ve gone crazy. One way or another he’ll insult me, my witnesses will hear it, and then he’ll be in for a surprise.

I didn’t choose this city, at least not in the sense that I weighed the advantages and disadvantages. When it was finally my turn at the office, I was offered the choice between this one and another city I’d never heard of before. So I decided for Berlin, but it didn’t mean much to me. Only since living here have I realized how convenient this place is for someone who wants to save money. I didn’t realize it at the beginning, but gradually, and surprisingly late. In the first month, the only exchange rate I cared about was the one between my own currency and the money I’m earning here. I had been planning to go to East Berlin sometime anyway, to cure the boredom on a warm Sunday, partly because you’re supposed to take an interest in the sights of the city you live in. It was then I heard from a Greek coworker that one currency could be exchanged for the other at a very favorable rate. He wondered how it was I didn’t know about this already. He explained which things are expensive over here and which are expensive over there. Soon I understood that, if one just goes about it the right way, it’s possible to increase one’s earnings significantly. He did say that exchanging money is prohibited in the other Berlin, and the punishment if they catch you is quite severe. But he also said only a millionaire could afford to respect that.

So I began to inform myself, mostly asking people from my home country. I wanted to hear about the experiences of many people, to pick the best and avoid rookie mistakes. The most reasonable thing appeared to be to do as many would have liked but only few dared: to stay in the other Berlin and actually live there, and only work in this one for the better money. I calculated that, if I tried this, I could shorten my five years abroad to only three and a half. To four at the very most, and where else are you given a free year?

My limited experience at the border told me that the guards are very rude but not very thorough. I met a kindhearted fellow countryman who had been living like this for a long time, and he provided me with information unreservedly. He said you have to meet a girl with a large room, since you’re not allowed to have your own room. To find someone with two rooms, he said, would be immensely lucky, almost no one has two rooms. To find a nice girl, however, isn’t too hard, he said, at least not as hard as it is here, because you can bring her a thousand things that you can’t buy there. One inconvenience is that you have to leave the other Berlin at midnight, that’s the law. But you can turn around on the other side of the border and go straight back. This way, you cross the border four times in one day: once in the morning on your way to work, the second time after work, then just before twelve because of the damned law, and one last time after twelve, back to the girl. Except for weekends of course, when there is no commute. Another possibility, he said, is to hang around town until midnight and then go to the girl and get into bed. It depends on whether the girl is willing to play along and whether you can handle it yourself, physically. In this way you can save at least eleven marks fifty in one day, that’s the fee for crossing the border. He said, because of this he can send his wife an extra two hundred marks every month.

When, soon after, the already expensive rent for my room was raised by an inordinate amount, I was ready. The next Saturday I crossed the border and went to a bar that had been recommended to me for my purposes. At first, I was disappointed, because looking around I couldn’t seem to spot what I was looking for. Instead, I heard the men sitting at the table next to mine speak in my language. Five minutes later we were sitting together, telling stories about our villages. One of them was from a place over the mountains that I’d heard of before. After a few glasses, two women arrived who were meeting the men. They all left together, but one of the women came back and asked me if I wanted her to bring along her friend next Saturday. Because I was unprepared and embarrassed, I acted like an idiot and said I didn’t even know her friend. To my relief, she wasn’t offended and said: I expected that, it’s why I wanted to bring her. And she also said: Looking is free. We set a time for next Saturday. One of my fellow countrymen winked at me from the door, as if he was behind the whole thing. Actually, I was happy to have made the first step without much effort.

My head was spinning a little after the three or four glasses of wine I’d had. When I thought about the exchange rate between the two currencies, food and drink were unbelievably cheap here. I would have been able to afford much more wine, liquor even, but it was still early in the day. I didn’t feel like going back, there was nothing waiting for me. I wanted to go see a movie. I could do that here just as well as in West Berlin, only much cheaper. I waited a long time for the waiter, when a woman sat down at my table. I saw that all the other tables were full. The first thing I noticed was her fingernails, which were the same color as the unripe plums in our garden. She took a very long cigarette from a new pack and I gave her a light. She had a way of looking at you that seemed a bit bold to me. When the waiter finally arrived, I ordered coffee instead of paying. I might have done that even without the woman. She asked me where I was from, and I told her. As I was speaking, I noticed she was older than I had first thought. In fact, she was probably forty. She said I didn’t even look like a foreigner. It was obvious she was trying to flatter me. I enjoyed that. For the first time in my life, I felt like a rich man. I don’t mean someone who can afford a lot of things, more like someone held in esteem. She had cake with whipped cream and told me that on the weekends she usually took a boat out on one of the rivers, that there wasn’t much going on in the city. Then she talked about a television series I didn’t know; I don’t even own a television. She had taken off one of her shoes. It was lying next to her chair, almost out in the aisle.

A little later I began to consider whether I should invite her to the movies. She would have joined me—I have an eye for these things—but something held me back. It wasn’t her age, more her demeanor. I can’t really express it in words. I was looking for someone with a room, after all, but I didn’t want to live with her. If I hadn’t had any other opportunities, I might not have been so picky. But I had the prospect of the coming Saturday, and I could hope I would like the other woman’s friend better. So I spent a few more minutes listening to her mouth, which wouldn’t stop talking, then I told her I had an appointment and had to leave now. The woman’s eyes stayed friendly, as they had been the entire time, but she immediately stopped talking. In a way I felt sorry for her, but I told myself I better reserve my pity for me. Until I had settled the check with the waiter, she had the expression of someone trying to figure out a difficult problem. Then I said goodbye. She even shook my hand and said: Have fun. I went outside and wished I had a nice car I could drive around in.

The next Saturday, I couldn’t find a free table at the restaurant. Because the weather was so bad, they all wanted to sit inside and drink coffee, and I had to wait at the door. A waiter told me I couldn’t stand in the aisle. Had I stepped outside, I would have gotten wet. He kept saying it to me until I turned up my collar and stepped outdoors. At home he wouldn’t have been able to do that. I’m very strong. Through the window, I could see he was just as rude to his fellow Germans, and I couldn’t understand why they put up with it.

After a while, the two women arrived, way too late. I immediately recognized the first one: she was wearing the same jacket she had worn a week ago. The other one, the one I was expecting, was neither pretty nor ugly. There was nothing remarkable about her at all, so all I was able to ascertain was that she was a young woman or a girl. She seemed a little shy. I liked that. The one in the green jacket gave her a nudge, then she introduced me to her friend: Klara. Then she looked at her watch, acted as if it was very late for her, and left. I was happy that it wasn’t her I had waited for. I remembered her saying: Looking is free.

I said to Klara that there weren’t any free tables at this restaurant and asked whether she had any alternative suggestions. She shrugged her shoulders. Since it wouldn’t stop raining, though, we couldn’t stay out there. I asked her again for a dry place nearby. I hoped, of course, that she had her own apartment and would invite me there. She thought about it for a moment and named another restaurant and said we should be able to get a table there. While we walked there, I was relieved in a way that we weren’t going to her apartment. If it was going to work out between us, I thought, it was probably for the better. I just hoped that the reason she wasn’t taking me to her apartment was not that she didn’t have one.

At the other restaurant, we were almost the only patrons. As we studied the menu, I said she didn’t have to look at the prices. She ordered chocolate ice cream with egg liqueur and I had wine. She was a nurse, like her friend. It took quite a while for her to stop being ashamed when she talked. Until then, I had to pull every word out of her, despite struggling with my own inhibitions. I wondered whether it had been her own wish to meet someone like me, or whether her friend had decided it for her. The friend didn’t really seem to fit with her. Suddenly, I found her mouth pretty and felt like kissing her. I imagined our getting together had nothing to do with this or the other Berlin and nothing to do with the two currencies. I imagined I was simply a young man and she the girl that came with that. I told her a dirty joke and she smiled a little.

When it stopped raining, we walked around for a while. The streets were empty. She said surely there was more going on at this hour on our side of the border. I replied that her assumption was correct, but I actually didn’t mind the quiet. She said: Strange. We checked an advertising column, but there were no movies she wanted to see. She seemed halfhearted in everything she said or did. She reminded me of my little brother, the way he poked around in his soup, not because he didn’t like the soup but because he didn’t like to eat at all. He became thin like a stick because of it. But I didn’t know her yet, and it was possible she just happened to be in that kind of mood today.

My right foot was hurting—an electric cart had run over it two days earlier on the factory floor. It wasn’t only the driver’s fault. I had been careless, too. I couldn’t spend the entire day walking around. Besides, that wasn’t what I was here for. I asked what she normally did with her free time, especially on the weekends. She told me all the boring things that make up weekends everywhere: cleaning, meeting girlfriends, television, visiting parents. I inquired whether she had a boyfriend. I said: A pretty girl like you would surely have a boyfriend. She became shy again and went silent for a whole block. Then she told me she had had a few boyfriends, but only two serious ones. The first one had suddenly broken up with her, she still had no idea why, and the second one she had sent away, because he wasn’t treating her well enough. She said: Besides, I’m not pretty at all. I considered whether I would have preferred meeting a girl who was more like a whore, like her friend, for example. I saw a few advantages and a few disadvantages either way. Then I told myself that such comparisons of women are foolish to begin with. There is always something better.

Suddenly she said: If you want, we can go to my place. It sounded as if it wasn’t her idea but a piece of advice someone had given her that she just now remembered. I was quite surprised and said: Why not? She said she didn’t have anything at home except for tomato juice, in case I wanted to drink wine or liquor. I put my arm around her shoulder as we walked: she wasn’t supposed to get the impression I was indifferent to her offer. I said it couldn’t hurt to buy some wine and I very much liked her idea. She said that for someone who has only been here for such a short time my German was very good.

She took me to the only store open at this hour on a Saturday. Unlike the streets outside, it was busy. We bought two bottles of wine and white chocolate, but I couldn’t pay with the money I’d changed that was sitting in my pocket. I was told they only accepted the other money here, which was a shame. Klara looked at blouses in a shop display. When I asked whether she’d like one, she shook her head and walked out ahead of me. Her apartment was far away. We had to take the subway and then countless stops on the bus. She linked arms with me as we were sitting next to each other on the bus. I wondered whether the distance from the border crossing didn’t make the entire exercise pointless. But then the house appeared in a green suburban street.

She spent a long time looking for her keys. In the window next to the entrance sat a red dog that was yawning. The apartment was big enough for two, I realized after a few minutes. She had a large room, a toilet, and a kitchen that was good for washing. Above the stove, some panties and stockings were hung on a clothesline. She removed them quickly and hid them as if they were a disgrace. She placed the two wine bottles in the sink and ran cold water over them.

As soon as we sat down on the couch, I held her and kissed her. I knew I’d become shy if I waited too long. I remembered from before. At first she remained still, but then she opened her mouth and began kissing back, and I thought, there’s that out of the way. I could touch her wherever I wanted, without her putting up any resistance. We didn’t even have that much time: it was long past seven, I had to be at the border by twelve, and there were lots of stations between here and there. I went to the kitchen, dried off a wine bottle, and looked for some glasses. I was glad she didn’t follow me. It was like an invitation to move about freely in her apartment. When I returned to the room with the wine and glasses, she had drawn the curtains and turned on the television. She said the programs on Saturday nights were always good.

We drank and ate the white chocolate. She was so immersed in the television images there was no talking to her, even though it was mostly singing. I could only pick out single words, my German isn’t good enough for songs, and a lot of the singing was also in English. After a while she asked me whether I could bring back a certain record for her. This was the first sign that she had plans for me, too. I let her write the name down on a piece of paper for me. To do that she turned on the light for a moment. I drank much more wine than she did. It annoyed me how important the television was to her, but I didn’t want to start setting rules on the first night, acting like the man of the house. I lay behind her on the sofa. The shadows of the figures in the television were dancing on the ceiling. Klara’s fingers were lying directly in front of my eyes and were moving tirelessly with the music. Only when there was talking did they stop.

I took the money I’d changed from my pocket and put it on the table. It was still in the envelope from the bank. I didn’t want to carry it back across the border and back again the next time I came over. It had been burning a hole in my pocket the whole time during the border control. Of course, I could hardly ask Klara for a receipt, but we didn’t know each other well enough yet for the money. I resolved to wait for the rest of the evening and then decide whether I could leave the envelope or not. I told myself: If she watches television the entire time, I’ll be none the wiser.

I pulled her down to me by her hair. She didn’t resist and said: I guess you’re right. We kissed. Suddenly, she didn’t seem shy at all. Not because she was kissing me so passionately or skillfully, but more that she was kissing me in a somewhat detached way, almost like it was a matter of course. I wondered why she didn’t want me to buy the blouse for her at the store earlier. I would have liked to turn off the television: it interrupts you because you keep understanding a few words here and there or because you’re trying to remember who the singer reminds you of. But when my hand reached for the switch, Klara pulled it back. I had never made love with the television running, not least because I didn’t own one. She said: Leave it, it’s fine. I once had a thing with a girl who wound her watch in the middle of sex. I got my revenge on her, but I don’t want to say how.

We kissed again for a little while, then we got undressed. First I undressed her, then she undressed me. I tried to hold her in such a way that she couldn’t see the television. We began to make love, but I already knew it wouldn’t be anything special. Her eyes were closed, and she held me without moving, as if that was a rule. Because she was a nurse, I didn’t need to ask her any questions. I like when girls move and make some noise, when they show you there’s something going on with them and you’re not having fun all by yourself. She lay impossibly still, and only her mouth, when we kissed or when she licked her lips, showed me she hadn’t fallen asleep. I tried all sorts of things, I explored her body—which all of a sudden seemed tiny to me—for any sensitive spots. I had once learned in a sex education movie that everyone has these spots, you just have to find them. But I couldn’t find them.

A new program started on the television. Maybe she was listening intently and wasn’t thinking about us at all. I thought I could probably risk leaving the money, she didn’t seem like she would cheat me out of it. Then I couldn’t wait any longer, and the lovemaking had to come to an end. I leaned close to her ear and asked her whether she had finished, too. She said: A while ago. I resolved to deal with this issue later, if we stayed together. I told her: If you show you’re having fun more, you’ll have more fun. But she didn’t react. She drank a little wine, then she said that every three weeks she had to work the night shift. It was the second clear sign that she had plans for me. I would have wished for a better sign, but at least I now knew that I could leave the money. It seemed too early to be talking about living arrangements on this first night.

I fell asleep and dreamed of home, as I do almost every night. I woke up and was shocked, but Klara immediately said there was still enough time. She wondered about the money on the table, which she had discovered in the meantime, and I explained it to her. I said I wanted to leave it here until next time, because it would be stupid to carry forbidden money back and forth across the border. I acted as though we had already agreed on our next meeting, and she didn’t seem to mind. She stood up, took the envelope with the money and put it in a drawer with her underwear. She asked whether I knew exactly how much it was. I said yes, because naturally I knew exactly how much it was, it was a stupid question. She came back to the couch and stroked my chest, which surprised me, and we made love again. She had completely changed, as if the first time she had just been practicing and only now was getting serious. I thought how mysterious love is. She looked at me now and moved her arms and used her hands, and I liked her a hundred times better. I asked what was going on all of a sudden, and she said: What do you mean? As if she didn’t even know what I was talking about.

Later, she went to the kitchen to make some sandwiches. I was happy, because it was quite nice with her and I could just as well have ended up with someone else. Of course, I wouldn’t have had to end up with just anyone, I know that. But when you’re desperately trying to save money, you can’t be too picky, and most of all you can’t wait forever. I shouted to the kitchen, asking whether there was anything I could do to help. She laughed a little and shouted back that I should just stay put and relax. I liked that, too.

As I was getting dressed, I saw some numbers on the television; it was running the entire time. They looked like lottery numbers, and when Klara returned with the sandwiches, I asked whether there was a lottery in East Berlin. She said: Of course there’s a lottery. I enjoyed the sandwiches. The slices of meat were cut very thick. She had brought the tomato juice, but I preferred to have some more wine. I told her that I play the lottery regularly every week in West Berlin, for four marks. I always play the same numbers and in the first week right away won five marks, but nothing since then. She did some calculations in her head then she said, four marks every week, that’s more than two hundred marks a year. She asked whether there wasn’t anything better I could be spending that kind of money on.

I explained to her that there’s nothing better to spend four marks a week on. I don’t need to be told that the chances of becoming a rich man by playing the lottery are small. But if I didn’t play, the chances would be even smaller, and that hope is worth four marks a week to me. I told Klara about my mother, who has a similar habit—she just doesn’t play the lottery. She gives the same amount of money to the church every month, not for a happy afterlife, I know that much, but because she’s expecting some kind of miracle in this life. A few times she has encouraged me to do the same, but I consider her method pointless. Because if you could bribe God with four marks a week, he wouldn’t be any good in the first place. When I play the lottery, I can become a millionaire for the same money.

Klara thought this was nonsense. She said: After all, it’s your money you’re throwing out the window. There wasn’t much time left, and I didn’t want to attract any attention on my first trip by being too late. I asked whether there was anything else she wanted me to get for her besides the record. She said nothing came to mind at the moment, but she could think about it until next time. She asked whether I wanted to come back the following Saturday, and I said yes, next Saturday. We have a proverb that goes: If you want your ox to pull your plow a little longer, you’ll have to wait a little longer for its leather.

She told me she had to work the weekend after next. I said: It’s a while until then. She sat next to me in her underwear. I could have made love to her again right then, but I didn’t even kiss her. She had the bus timetable in her head. She said that to be safe I shouldn’t wait for the very last one, because sometimes the bus was canceled. As she got dressed for the walk to the bus stop, I had a really good idea. I asked her for a piece of paper and wrote down all the numbers I played in the other lottery. I told her to mark these same numbers on a lottery ticket and play them for me every week from now on. I didn’t know how much a lottery ticket was over here. Klara said about fifty pfennig, but she didn’t know exactly. In any case the price was minute at this exchange rate. I was pleased with my idea. Of course, the same exchange rate applied to the winnings, but a quarter of the grand prize is still a grand prize. I told her to make sure to remember it every week, in case I ever forgot to mention it. She was welcome to think this was crazy, if only she didn’t forget to buy the tickets. I was so excited at this new prospect that I drank the rest of the wine from the bottle. On the television they were now showing soccer. I would have liked to watch it, but we had to go.

There were a few people waiting at the bus stop; the last bus hadn’t come. Klara said that was a good sign. They never canceled two buses in a row. We walked a few steps away from the bus stop so we could talk better. Again, she explained the way to the border in detail. Then she said she had remembered something I could get for her. She wanted a certain kind of hair spray, and I promised I would find it. She said the hair spray you could buy over here was so terribly sticky and didn’t smell very nice either. I said she didn’t have to explain herself: if she wanted something, I would just get it for her. Then we walked up and down a little bit because it was too chilly to stay in one spot. When the bus came around the corner, I reminded her again about the lottery tickets. She hugged me and asked quietly whether I really liked her. I said: Yes.

Translated by Jonathan Becker