They set his shoulder at the officers’ infirmary near Onkel Tom’s Hutte, or at least he was told they did, a day later, when he lay with a morphine hangover under the pink chenille spread at Gelferstrasse. People had drifted in and out, Ron to check, the old woman from downstairs playing nurse, none of them quite real, just figures in a haze, like his arm, white with gauze and adhesive, hanging in a sling, not his at all, someone else’s. Who were they all? When the old woman came back, recognizable now, the billet’s owner, he realized, embarrassed, that he didn’t even know her name. Then the stranger with her, an American uniform, gave him a shot, and they disappeared too. What he saw instead was Gunther’s face, floating in the water. No more points. And later, awake, the face still in his mind, he knew the haze was not just the drugs but a deeper exhaustion, a giving up, because he had done everything wrong.
He was sitting by the window, looking down on the garden where the old woman had snipped parsley, when Lena finally came.
“Eve been so worried. They wouldn’t let me go to the hospital.” Military only. What if he had died?
“You look nice,” he said as she kissed his forehead. Hair pinned up, the dress he had bought in the market.
“Well, for Gelferstrasse,” she said, a look between them, blushing a little, pleased that he’d noticed. “And look, here’s Erich. They say it’s not so bad, the shoulder only. And ribs. Do the drugs make you sleepy? My god, this room.” She went over to the bed, busy, and straightened the spread. “There,” she said, and for an instant he saw her as a younger version of the old woman, a Berliner, going on. “See what Erich brought. It was his idea.”
The boy handed over half a Hershey bar, eyes on the sling.
Jake took the bar, the haze lifting a little, unexpectedly touched. “So much,” he said. “I’ll save it for later, okay?”
Erich nodded. “Can I feel?” he said, pointing to the arm.
“Sure.”
He ran his hand over the tape, working out the mechanics of the sling, interested.
“You have a light touch,” Jake said. “You’ll make a good doctor.”
The boy shook his head. “ Alles ist kaput.”
“Someday,” Jake said, still hazy, then looked at Lena again, trying to focus, clear his head. What, in fact, were they doing here? Was Shaeffer keeping him here? Had they told Lena? He turned to her. Get it over with. “They got Emil.”
“Yes, he came to the flat. With the American. Such a scene, you can’t imagine.”
“To the flat?” Jake said. “Why?” Nothing clear.
“He was looking for something,” Erich said.
The files, even now. “Did he find it?”
“No,” Lena said, looking away.
“He was angry,” the boy said.
“Well, now he’s happy,” Lena said to him quickly. “So never mind. He’s going away, so he’s lucky too.” She looked at Jake. “He said you saved his life.”
“No. That’s not what happened.”
“Yes. The American said so too. Oh, you’re always so modest. It’s like the newsreel.”
“That didn’t happen either.”
“Ouf,” she said, brushing this away. “Well, now it’s over. Do you want something? Can you eat?” Busy again, picking up a shirt from the floor.
“I didn’t save him. He tried to kill me.”
Lena stopped, still half bent over, the shirt in hand. “Such talk. It’s the drugs.”
“No, that’s what happened,” he said, trying to keep his voice level and clear. “He tried to kill me.”
She turned slowly. “Why?”
“The files, I guess. Maybe because he thought he could. No one would know.”
“It’s not true,” she said quietly.
“No? Ask him how he got the scratches on his hand.”
For a moment, silence, broken finally by someone clearing his throat.
“Well, suppose we put all that behind us now, shall we?” Shaeffer came through the door, Ron trailing behind him.
Lena turned to him. “So it’s true?”
“Anybody in a car crash gets a few scratches, you know. Look at you,” he said to Jake.
“You saw it,” Jake said.
“Confusing situation like that? A lot of splashing, that’s what I saw.”
“So it is true,” Lena said, sinking onto the bed.
“Sometimes the truth’s a little overrated,” Shaeffer said. “Doesn’t always fit.”
“Where have you got him?” Jake said.
“Don’t worry, he’s safe. No thanks to you. Hell of a place to pick to go swimming. God knows what’s in there. Doc says we’d better get some sulfa drugs into him before we take him to Kransberg. Might spread.”
“You’re taking him to Kransberg?”
“Where’d you think I was taking him-to the Russians?” Said genially, without guile, his smile pushing the rest of Jake’s haze away. Not Shaeffer after all. Someone else.
“Tell me the truth,” Lena said. “Did Emil do that?”
Shaeffer hesitated. “He might have got a little agitated is all. Now let’s forget about all that. We’ll get Geismar fixed up here and every-body’ll be just fine.”
“Yes, fine,” Lena said, distracted.
“We have a few things to go over,” Ron said.
Lena looked at the boy, who’d been following their conversation like a tennis match.
“Erich, do you know what’s downstairs? A gramophone. American records. You go listen and I’ll be down soon.”
