The Artificial Silk Girl (12 page)

“That’s beautiful,” he says and he’s breathing the voices and the air and the half stars — and then he searches his pockets for those pennies he saved up for tobacco at the home — and he gives them to the boys and says: “That was beautiful, four young voices that are holding together. Full of force, full of life, outside in the fresh air — that was beautiful.”

But we didn’t have to go all that way and all over the city for that. And all of a sudden, he tries to walk by himself — how can I let him! — but I’m very tired now.

   Rannowsky from our building, who is a word that I’m ashamed to put on paper, has been arrested! Because he almost killed one of his women and she reported him. And now she keeps passing us on the stairs and her name is Hulla and she has a wide sagging face and hair that’s been dyed yellow. Only blondes can look really mean, and it’s hard to believe how a man could.… And she wears cheap, tight-fitting wool jumpers that emphasize her body shape in a vulgar way. So she stops me on the staircase
and starts talking to me and I was beginning to feel creepy, because she comes from a terrible underworld that’s completely foreign to me. That’s how low you can sink. I was nice to her, because I was afraid of her and because nobody else is. I was a star compared to her.

The funny thing is that for every star there’s one that shines even brighter. And she was trembling and begging me for money so she can feed the goldfish, because she’s not able to make much money right now, that’s how badly he’s beaten her up.

And now he’s in jail. And he’s threatening her in his letters to her, telling her to take care of his goldfish, Lolo in particular: “Take care of my beloved babies, woman. Or else I’m going to break every bone in your body once I get out of here.”

So we went upstairs to look at the fish and they were swimming back and forth and Lolo looked fat and lazy. “I just hope he’s not sick,” Hulla screamed in a high-pitched voice. And she looked terrifying with her face full of bandaids.

Tilli’s Albert is back from Essen. “But you can stay,” she tells me.

Sometimes he touches my arm in a way that ends my loneliness. But he’s Tilli’s!

   I’ve made it. I am — Oh God! — mother, I’ve gone on a shopping spree. A little fur jacket and a hat and the
finest saveloy — Is it a dream? I’m powerful. I’m bursting with excitement.

“Would you please air out my kimono,” I tell my lady-in-waiting who always arrives in the disguise of a cleaning woman.

And he’s calling me saying: “Dollface, fix yourself up. We’re going to the
Scala
tonight.”

And I’m living in a suite on
Kurfürstendamm
. Sometimes I spend three hours in the tub, bathing in scented bath salts.

He’s like a jolly pink rubber ball. I met him in a café on
Unter den Linden
, where they play first-class music. I looked at him, he looked at me. I reminded him of a girl he had been in love with in high school — this has got to be three-hundred years ago, that’s how old he is, but that’s exactly what’s so comforting to me.

I’m walking on carpets. My foot is sinking in as I’m turning on the radio: love, love is a heavenly force. And I’m so-o-o beautiful. And I almost have to cry, because now I don’t know where to go with all that beauty — for whom am I beautiful? For whom?

He has a company that’s struggling, and such comforting eyes.

“Alexander,” I say, “Alexander, apple of my eye, king of hearts, my round little Gouda, I’m so-o-o happy!”

“Do you love me, just a teensy-weensy bit, my dove, or is it just my money?” he asks full of fear — and that
moves me so much that I actually start to have some feelings for him.

For hours on end, Alexander tells me about his childhood and I’m listening, because he gave me the money to pay back Therese plus a portable gramophone and eighteen records by Richard Tauber, and one with my voice on it. I recorded it at
Tietz
, and I said: “Therese, I love you. Don’t forget me. I might become a star in the movies, because Alexander thinks I have lots of talent. I’m riding around in a Mercedes and even the nails on my feet are polished, and I’m educating myself, and sometime I say ‘C’est ça lala.’ And I’m a lady. My shirts are made of embroidered
crêpe lavable
from Paris. I have a bra that cost 11 marks, and a pair of shoes made from genuine emu leather. I wish you could see me! ‘Madam, where would you like me to take you?’ asks Alexander’s chauffeur. Good-bye Therese.”

Once my mother wanted to have a canary. Therefore I had nine canaries transferred to her together with crystal flasks and lingerie and the like. I did the same for Therese. It’s because I’m kind of homesick — and I’m so elegant, I could address myself as lady. I pick up the phone from my bed with its silk cover and dial a number and say: “Alexi, my ruby-red morning sun, why don’t you bring me a pound of
Godiva!”

“Aye, aye, dollface,” he says, and I stay in bed resting in my lace nightgown or negligée. Sometimes I feel just the slightest bit bored. I gave Tilli a kayak.

Alex says: “Come on, dollface, let’s have some champagne. My little Mickey Mouse, you’re like a drop of dew.”

He’s a gentleman, even though he’s short and fat. All his friends — all of them big industrialists — say to him: “Old curmudgeon, where did you find that beautiful woman?” and they kiss my hand.

Alexi seems nervous, and I say to him: “Child, you have to relax. Let’s go to a spa.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, these are hard times,” he says, and is talking all night long — that’s how nervous he is.

“Why don’t you consult a doctor, dear,” I suggest, but he won’t listen to me.

The apartment is so elegant, the chauffeur is so elegant, everything is fabulous. I stroll through the apartment. And there’s dark red wallpaper, so incredibly elegant, and oak furniture and walnut. There are beasts on it with eyes that glow and you can turn them on electrically, and they start to eat smoke. And easy chairs with ashtrays attached to them like wrist watches — that’s the kind of apartment it is.

And then I do something phenomenal. Clad in my negligée that surrounds my feet with its silky touch, I move forward, slowly lifting my lace-covered arms — and on my feet I have pink slippers with fur — and then I lift my arms as if I were on stage and I push open the big sliding doors and then I am on stage. In my opinion, sliding doors are the epitome of elegance. And so I close them again and
then I go back and open them again — I’m a stage at least ten times every morning.

What a life! What a life!

I see a purse made of genuine crocodile — and I’ve already bought it.

I’m overwhelmed with myself.

All of a sudden, I can relate to Rannowsky’s women and that Hulla with the bandaids on her face. What’s the use of having all that money just for yourself? And when all you get are men that aren’t any — just automatons, and you want to get something back from them — just get something and you throw yourself into it — eventually you want one who isn’t just an automaton, whom you give something to. I’ve gone back to reading a lot of novels.

I bathe a lot.

As soon as the Gouda’s wife comes back from her trip, I’m going to have to leave the apartment. What’s a society? Am I society now? I have white silken gloves by Pinet at 40 marks and I can say
olala — c’est ça
in a way that makes everyone think I speak perfect French.

So he tells me: “Dollface, be true to me. You’re going to have to be by yourself tonight.” Tilli wasn’t home. I went to a couple of bars. My fur. I tried to be tired, but I couldn’t. Dear Mom, yesterday was Sunday, and you probably made red cabbage as usual. Did the house stink
from vinegar again? But my mother uses only the best vinegar.

My head felt like an empty swirling hole. I created a dream for myself and rode up and down the streets of Berlin for hours on end, all by myself. I was a movie and a weekly newsreel all by myself.

And I did that because usually I get to take taxis only with men who want to smooch — and I would be with those whom I found disgusting, and then I needed all my energy to distract myself — or with those whom I liked, but then it was a sofa on wheels with wine and not a taxi. Just for once, I wanted a real taxi. And I occasionally had taken a cab by myself, if a man gave me the money to take a taxi home — but then I would sit on the edge of my seat and stare at the meter the whole trip. But today, I rode around in a taxi like rich people, leaning back in my seat and looking out the window — lots of cigar stores on the corners — and movie theaters
— The Congress Dances
— Lilian Harvey is blonde — bakeries — and lit-up street numbers on houses and some without — and tracks — yellow trams gliding past me and the people inside could tell that I was a star — I’m leaning way back in my cushions and I don’t watch how the fare is adding up — I won’t allow my ears to hear the click — blue lights, red lights, millions of lights — shop windows — dresses, but no models — sometimes other cars go faster — bedding stores
— a green bed that isn’t really a bed, but more modern. It’s flipping around itself, feathers whirling around in a large glass — people on foot — the modern bed turning.

I would so much love to be happy.

   Thank God I was able to salvage the crocodile purse plus the white silk shoes plus a suitcase with at least some of my things, besides the fur. When his wife returned unexpectedly in the morning, I was still in bed. Later I told my lady-in-waiting that the opened bottle of cologne I had left behind was for her. I went to the post office to call the Gouda at the office. He’s been arrested. Why? I’m sure it’s because of money. Nowadays, the finest people end up in jail.

I went to Tilli and gave her the white silk shoes. She doesn’t appreciate them enough, but she still would have taken me in even without them. That’s why I gave them to her in the first place! And now what? Tilli’s hard Albert is on the dole. Tilli cleans at Ronnebaum’s.

I had to sell the crocodile purse way below cost.

Always the same. Always the same.

I run into the bandaid lady on the stairs. I have this desire in my gut to be liked by everybody. That always happens when nobody likes you.

Sometimes Albert takes my arm. Tilli loves him. She has to leave in the morning. Her eyes don’t love me any
more. Men are all the same. The hard guy is bored. Tilli is gone. I’m there. And new, so to speak. Sometimes my head wants to rest on his arm. That’s why I get up really early and leave the house with Tilli and then I go for a walk.

It’s almost Christmas.

They’re always fighting. “No,” Tilli tells me, “don’t iron Albert’s shirts.” And then we’re both all tears and kisses.

   But I just talked to her. Dead. But she was nice. Hulla is dead. At the hand of Rannowsky. He got out of prison this morning. The main goldfish Lolo died because Hulla had retained a scar on her mouth from Rannowsky’s beating, and it will never go away — that’s what the doctor said. So she goes to the fish tank and takes out Lolo and puts him on the floor. She comes downstairs calling for me. So we both go up together. I say, “But Miss Hulla!”

That Lolo is lying on a piece of newspaper. She throws herself on the ground and screams: “Put him back in the water, bring him back to life, put him back in the water!”

I put him back in the water. His belly is up.

She says: “I didn’t want that.”

She’s shaking her head — we never want that sort of thing. There’s something there that makes sure that what we lied about wanting, but didn’t really want, happens. We cried for that creature. We smoked a cigarette and then we cried some more.

“I fed him,” says Hulla, “and last night a guy asked me, what’s that on your face, are you sick? I fed him. So he asks, are you sick? I was asking for three marks, I needed new stockings — ”

She shows me the runs in her stockings. And then she says: “We had agreed on 3 marks, and then he gives me 2.50 — and all I wanted was 3 marks — and three years ago, one man gave me 3.40 — it’s unfair!” I agreed. “And then I go to the doctor: ‘You’ll never get rid of that,’ now my face looks like I’m sick and I only get 2.50 — so I hated him, and since you can’t get to the ones you hate, you ruin those you love, because you can get to them.” And it’s Rannowsky she hates — it’s him.

And the fish continued to swim belly up. Three others hit him with their snouts. The dead fish’s tummy was pale. And that overweight Hulla was kneeling on the floor praying. And she’s terrified — “take care of my beloved fish, woman …” He’s so brutal. And I say to her: “Hulla, I’ll get us some cognac!” — after all, she was completely shaken up.

And Tilli wasn’t there. So I say: “Albert, give me the bottle, please!” He’s drunk and he grabs me. I say: “No — Albert, please, the goldfish!”

Why is it that God gave him this aura that I like — and I was so excited anyway. His eyes. Only for a moment. All that running on the staircase. Tilli — Hulla! And as I come upstairs, there’s lots of people there. And Rannowsky. And
Hulla jumps out of the window, the moment he enters the room.

Sometimes there are mirrors that make me look like an old woman. That’s the way it’s going to be thirty years from now.

   “But I’m not telling you to leave. I’m not telling you. Why don’t you stay,” said Tilli. So I left. Since I’m a thorn in her side and she’s been so decent to me. I took a furnished room for a few days — as long as I can afford it.

The landlady’s a bitch and the hallway is a pigsty and there’s no light in the toilet, which is also the broom closet. To call this a furnished room! That’s some way of being alone. But I don’t care anymore. I’m putting all my eggs into one basket now. There are so many men, why shouldn’t there be one for me for a change? I’m so sick of it all. Whenever they have money, they have stupid wives and get themselves arrested, is that fair? There’s got to be something else in this world.

I tell old Reff about my landlady. “Frau Briekow,” I say, “what do you mean, where are my handkerchiefs with the embroidered M on them?”

I stole them myself and don’t have to have them stolen again by this stinky lump of horsemeat of a landlady. I can feel new energy in me. I just can’t register. For my part, I have to say that I haven’t had much fun with the police so far. I have to begin to consider all my options.