on a wicker recliner, to the outhouse. Its door was hanging on one hinge and they pushed this and went in. They put Frau Bünden down. The space in which they found themselves was black with coal dust. At the far end of it was a metal door, and when they opened this, they saw that it was the door to an enormous oven, still choked with ash.
‘I told you,’ said Anton. ‘This is where they burned the dead. I suppose they had to burn everything, to stop the infection spreading.’
‘Are we going to put Frau Bünden in there?’
‘Yes,’ said Anton. ‘And burn her.’
‘We haven’t got any matches.’
‘We can bring some from the chalet.’
They came back the following day with matches and newspaper. They fetched logs from an old, rotting woodpile. Before they put Frau Bünden into the oven, Anton said, ‘Wait, Gustav. You know there’s going to be smoke from the chimney if we make a fire? Then, Monsieur or somebody might come and send us away.’
‘We can’t leave her to rot,’ said Gustav.
They stared at the recliner not knowing what they should do. After a few moments, Anton said, ‘Listen! Hans is rattling his tambourine. He needs us. We’ll burn Frau Bünden some other time.’
‘I know what,’ suggested Gustav. ‘Let’s burn all the dead ones on our last day. We can light the fire and then just run back to the chalet.’
‘How many dead ones are there going to be?’ asked Anton.
‘We haven’t decided,’ said Gustav.
They went out onto the veranda, glad to breathe in the scent of the firs and feel the sunlight on their faces. They stood looking down at the village far below and Gustav thought with dismay of the scant time remaining in Davos, and of his miserable return to the apartment on Unter der Egg. On an impulse – not knowing that he was going to do this – he turned to Anton and said, ‘I don’t want to go home. Something bad happens there.’
‘What happens?’
‘It’s a secret, right? I’ve never told anyone and you must never tell a single other soul.’
‘I won’t. Don’t look so panicked, Gustav.’
‘All right.
Swear
you won’t tell?’
‘I swear.’
‘OK, it’s this, then. There’s a man in our block, Ludwig, who tries to make me touch him.’
‘Tries to make you touch him?’
‘Yes. Touch his penis. I hate him. It makes me feel disgusting.’
Anton looked hard at Gustav. ‘Did you do it?’ he asked. ‘Did you touch his dick?’
‘No. I never would. I wish he was dead.’
‘All right,’ said Anton. ‘Let’s kill him. What’s his name? Ludwig? We’ll give him TB and let him die and then burn him.’
‘Promise you won’t tell, Anton?’
‘Of course I won’t. I’ve sworn, haven’t I? But Ludwig’s got to die.’
They selected another recliner. They put a badly stained mattress onto it and threw down a torn piece of grey fabric, which might once have been part of a curtain.
‘There you are,’ said Anton. ‘Ludwig.’
Anton put the stethoscope in his ears and bent down towards Ludwig, to listen to the murmur of his lungs. ‘Ah,’ he said, after a while, ‘I’m sorry to tell you, Ludwig, there is no improvement. Doctor Perle, is there any of Ludwig’s special medicine left?’
‘No,’ said Doctor Perle. ‘None. I can order more from Geneva, but I’m afraid it will arrive too late.’
‘Did you hear that, Ludwig?’ said Doctor Zwiebel. ‘What we suggest is that you prepare yourself for death.’
At this moment, the sun went in. The rag covering Ludwig became a dark shadow, seemingly without form.
Gustav shivered. ‘If we’re going to kill Ludwig,’ he said, ‘I think Hans should be saved.’
On their last day, they lit the fire in the oven. They tried to put Frau Bünden into the oven, lying dead on her bamboo recliner, but the recliner wouldn’t fit through the oven door, so they took her off the bed, wrapped in her rug, and threw her in. The wool rug seemed greedy for the flame and hissed and crackled
‘I told you,’ said Anton. ‘This is where they burned the dead. I suppose they had to burn everything, to stop the infection spreading.’
‘Are we going to put Frau Bünden in there?’
‘Yes,’ said Anton. ‘And burn her.’
‘We haven’t got any matches.’
‘We can bring some from the chalet.’
They came back the following day with matches and newspaper. They fetched logs from an old, rotting woodpile. Before they put Frau Bünden into the oven, Anton said, ‘Wait, Gustav. You know there’s going to be smoke from the chimney if we make a fire? Then, Monsieur or somebody might come and send us away.’
‘We can’t leave her to rot,’ said Gustav.
They stared at the recliner not knowing what they should do. After a few moments, Anton said, ‘Listen! Hans is rattling his tambourine. He needs us. We’ll burn Frau Bünden some other time.’
‘I know what,’ suggested Gustav. ‘Let’s burn all the dead ones on our last day. We can light the fire and then just run back to the chalet.’
‘How many dead ones are there going to be?’ asked Anton.
‘We haven’t decided,’ said Gustav.
They went out onto the veranda, glad to breathe in the scent of the firs and feel the sunlight on their faces. They stood looking down at the village far below and Gustav thought with dismay of the scant time remaining in Davos, and of his miserable return to the apartment on Unter der Egg. On an impulse – not knowing that he was going to do this – he turned to Anton and said, ‘I don’t want to go home. Something bad happens there.’
‘What happens?’
‘It’s a secret, right? I’ve never told anyone and you must never tell a single other soul.’
‘I won’t. Don’t look so panicked, Gustav.’
‘All right.
Swear
you won’t tell?’
‘I swear.’
‘OK, it’s this, then. There’s a man in our block, Ludwig, who tries to make me touch him.’
‘Tries to make you touch him?’
‘Yes. Touch his penis. I hate him. It makes me feel disgusting.’
Anton looked hard at Gustav. ‘Did you do it?’ he asked. ‘Did you touch his dick?’
‘No. I never would. I wish he was dead.’
‘All right,’ said Anton. ‘Let’s kill him. What’s his name? Ludwig? We’ll give him TB and let him die and then burn him.’
‘Promise you won’t tell, Anton?’
‘Of course I won’t. I’ve sworn, haven’t I? But Ludwig’s got to die.’
They selected another recliner. They put a badly stained mattress onto it and threw down a torn piece of grey fabric, which might once have been part of a curtain.
‘There you are,’ said Anton. ‘Ludwig.’
Anton put the stethoscope in his ears and bent down towards Ludwig, to listen to the murmur of his lungs. ‘Ah,’ he said, after a while, ‘I’m sorry to tell you, Ludwig, there is no improvement. Doctor Perle, is there any of Ludwig’s special medicine left?’
‘No,’ said Doctor Perle. ‘None. I can order more from Geneva, but I’m afraid it will arrive too late.’
‘Did you hear that, Ludwig?’ said Doctor Zwiebel. ‘What we suggest is that you prepare yourself for death.’
At this moment, the sun went in. The rag covering Ludwig became a dark shadow, seemingly without form.
Gustav shivered. ‘If we’re going to kill Ludwig,’ he said, ‘I think Hans should be saved.’
On their last day, they lit the fire in the oven. They tried to put Frau Bünden into the oven, lying dead on her bamboo recliner, but the recliner wouldn’t fit through the oven door, so they took her off the bed, wrapped in her rug, and threw her in. The wool rug seemed greedy for the flame and hissed and crackled
Similar Books
