12
Günter Sanders was cleaning up the restaurant with Gertrude Fephr, both putting away everything from the night before, largely, dishes left out, and unwashed dishes in the kitchen. The floor was swept clean, both thinking since it was Saturday, Carmen would be in, but often she came in late on Saturday’s, as Friday’s were a testy evening—frequently—with much drinking going on.
Beer bottles were now being picked up and leftover pizza—not eaten from the night before—was being thrown into the garbage cans by Gertrude. Then all of a sudden, Gertrude got a phone call, it was Carmen, she was not feeling well, and asked Gertrude to close the place for her this evening, she’d not be able to make it in.
“Ja” (Sure) she told Carmen, with a voice that was more concerned about her well-being than about making money.
She’d [She being: Carmen] often rewarded her for such things as this with an extra bonus a few times a year; and if her boss didn’t give it to her, Adolph, she’d take it out of her own money and give it to Gertrude for her loyalty. —For the most part, Gertrude did it for her when asked, but it was becoming a biweekly task now, before it was perhaps once or twice in a three month period. She never did give Günter a bonus though—and he never complained, I suppose he felt lucky to still be working.
The previous night had been a gathering of old friends after the few customers in the guesthouse had left. Adam had shown up, and Laszlo and Koln Lindeual were there and they met Adam. When Carmen was gone, they tried to talk to Adam about her poor health, and not to take it as serious as to blame her for things she couldn’t help. And Gertrude was present, as she was most times when there was a get together; and Gyorogy and Bernard were present; all trying to assure Adam, life would be better as soon as she could put the pieces together of her father’s death. But Adam felt it was much more than that, it was something imbedded inside of her at a much younger age, and it, whatever it was, had not healed and was not going to heal.
(At present, Carmen had sharp but still some soft contours; and smooth dark shot hair; still attractive; kind of a ripeness which was possibly more of a poise than shape. She also had tension in her face and body, flatness to her once pretty smile. She seemed chilled and tired most of the time.)
Adam was at the PX, pleasantly talking with his two employees, and Frantisek, a German gal, married to a GI, whom stopped by to pick up some soda, milk, bread and tin goods; kind of a preplanned stop for her. For she really wanted to talk to Adam, but felt she should first bring up Carmen so it wasn’t so obvious, she was very attracted to him. Carmen was well liked in the community, and knew the gate guards, knew them as well as anyone I suppose, and had met several of Adam’s customers. And yes, Frantisek knew Carmen as well.
“Looks like you’re going to be closing up early?” said Frantisek with an interesting smile, one that said, ‘I like what I see… (with dilated pupils)’.
“No, no…oo…not really, I close up at 3:00 PM every Saturday; you just normally come in, in the mornings, if I recall right.” It was close to three.
“How about you and I going out when the base closes down and all the GI’s go out for training next month?” It was twice a year the whole compound would have to go to training up north for thirty days, and during this time many of the housewives were left alone on base and they’d fill up the two clubs on base, many cheating on their husbands. She was twenty-three years old, and married to a Captain in his early thirties, and quite lovely, with a foxy face, a face that seemed to blow smoke into yours, with a sexual invitation attached to it; and curves in the right places.
“Sounds like nice music, if I’m not going with Carmen I may take you up on that, if you’re not kidding?” She looked at Adam, smiled, and then kissed him on the cheek. It’s what she wanted to hear, if not more.
“You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” Adam took in a deep breath and nodded ‘yes’. He wasn’t even sure if he meant what he said, she had asked before, but he just blushed and walked away. This time for some reason he didn’t, he took it a bit further.
[The Apartment] As Adam entered Carmen’s apartment, the kitchen was full of smoke, and staleness seemed to bounce off the walls. As he walked over to the kitchen window—for he had a key for such occasions when she’d not answer the door—; thus, he pulled down the shade in the kitchen and closed the curtain, locked the door behind him. He threw his jacket on the floor, she was by her bed, sitting on the edge of it face down. He then turned off the lights in the kitchen and main room; a light still glowed slightly from the door being open in the bathroom. The sky was low this evening thought Adam, and her again, his girlfriend, was in the dumps, melancholy. Her face was in a twisted form, as if she had a stroke, but it wasn’t a stroke, it was distorted from crying, and anger. Tucked inside her head was that voice he knew, the voice only she knew, nobody else but her and God.
[Breaking Glass] The house seemed still, for both Adam and Carmen, an absolute stillness—a stone stillness. There was no movement for the moment in the bed; a light thud in the hallway, along with a cracking of the wood sounded, as if someone was pacing. Now and then a giggle of keys hitting against one another reverberated.
Adam tilted her head back put his hand under her neck to hold it firmly in place. He figured the landlord was most likely someplace outside the door of the apartment, he was a snoop. But then Carmen often lost her temper and would break things, and so he might had been worried about damage to his apartment building, and just checking things out.
Ivan, he was almost hugging the door now—trying to catch a sound, but couldn’t—couldn’t hear a thing. He didn’t trust Adam, but then he couldn’t figure out Carmen’s behavior lately either. He blamed Adam for it for the most part, because she wasn’t this way eighteen months ago, when she came to live at his place, and now she was. So guilty or not, he got the blame.
A bodily pain came to her, and she said several undesirable words, she tried to make no noise but her head hurt again, as if an explosion had taken place. Out of not-thinking—an automatic response, she went into the kitchen, found a set of half-inch thick, drinking glasses, picked one up after the other (there were six) and threw them against the wall trying to break them. They didn’t break, she wanted to break them badly, and tried a second time. The old man got scared, ears next to the apartment door, and ran downstairs, not sure what to do. Then she threw them again, and again and again. Next he felt he had no choice: he came back up the stairs, “What’s going on in there?” he yelled. Adam opened the door and there was Carmen sitting on the chair next to the window with two of the six glasses in her hands. She saw him, and put them down gently on the kitchen table. Ivan looked at her strangely, not quite knowing what to make of it all; almost in disbelief.
“I was trying to break these glasses,” said Carmen almost in a stupor, as if she didn’t know what she was saying. The Landlord looked at the glasses, “You can’t break them they’re made to be unbreakable. What is wrong with you two?” Adam looked at him.
“Nothing with me Sir, it’s her, I never threw anything.”
Said Carmen with a tearful voice: “Ich…es tut mir leid…wirklich…!” (I, I am sorry, really!),” Ivan looked mystified at her, “…really I am sorry Ivan. I’ll pay for the wall damages, really I will. Just fix it and bill me,” she added.
He then smiled, “You getting them headaches again?” That’s what she called them when he’d ask before.
“Yaw, it was real bad this time, I couldn’t think.”
“Well, o…ok, but Adam, you, you need to leave, let her sleep it off, and stop feeding her booze.” Adam shook his head, and didn’t say a word, Ivan figured he needed an excuse to tell to his wife, and adding him into the crazy zone of behavior, well, it made Carmen not look as bad as she was, that was as good as anything he supposed, why not use that.
13
For some odd reason, Carmen arose from bed early, got ready to meet Adam for a ride with him into the Black Forest; She put on a long skirt, with nothing under it, frankly she was naked, and her breasts were exposed—to a high degree, thus, her whole body was chilled, as she felt the cool wind of the morning.
Adam had met her down by her car, at her apartment. He noticed she was looking a little different today, almost promiscuous. There was a slit in her dress all the way up to her upper thigh. It was almost rude, if not sluttish, Adam thought, but he got into the car with her. He had a little green Volkswagen, and he liked driving in her sportier looking car, so as always they used hers. As he sat in the front seat, and she drove, he kept thinking this was going to ruin the day, that is, this new look of hers. What was it she was trying to prove, or say [?] he asked himself.
“What is it,” asked Carmen, “why are you staring at me so much?”
“Can’t figure you out, you’re looking…I mean your look: why did you dress like a whore?”
“Like a what!” she bellowed, “A whore…?” She slammed the brakes of the car, pulled over to the side of the road—ready to slap his face.
“You got deep red lipstick on, and all this makeup, and your breasts are popping out of your blouse.”
“You haven’t taken me to bed like you used to, thought you’d like to have a whore today, so I dressed like one, and if you want, we can do it right here in the car.” She smiled with geeing anger—hand open ready to slap at the right moment. What she couldn’t say, but was thinking at this moment was, was coming out in her dressing up as she had—like a whore as he described her, or so it seemed. But all in all, to Adam it was just bazaar behavior, and getting worse by the week; no looking for reasons why.
“Did you have that same dream again?” He asked.
“F*ck the dream, and f*ck you for asking, this is not what it’s about, it is now, today, this moment: about you making love to me, me! …and not doing it enough.” She was right, he was avoiding her lately. Adam got out of the car and walked up the street; as far as he was concerned the day had ended for him with her, it would not get better he figured, and with her and the way it was, ready that is to slap, he’d be forced to confine her and that would be a mess.
—Just over a week later, Frantisek had gotten a wild idea, and slipped out of her apartment, in the Off-Post-Housing area (off post housing being an area where the American military families lived, which was close by the military compound, yet outside of it); about four blocks outside of the military compound, where she lived, she dashed down the street to check out and see if she could meet Adam before he left the PX. It was a fleeting thought, and it was evening, Saturday evening; which he often stayed late, and so what the heck she figured. It was dark, the back door of the PX was locked, and a light in the backroom was on; it was pouring rain, she hid under a small overlapping part of the roof of the PX, enough to keep her a little dry, but not much. He could not hear her from the thudding rain. Frantisek felt Adam would be favorable to her little game of surprising him when he came out. If not, no harm done. ‘Silly idea,’ she mumbled, but she had done sillier things in her life. Just then from out of the store the door opened and Adam stepped out, but before he put his foot down he saw Frantisek and caught his breath, she gave him a little fright; the rain was but a drizzle. He grinned, and then a moment passed for them both to settle their insides.
“You look cold,” came out of Adam’s mouth, he had not shut the door yet, and he couldn’t think of another thing to say, she was shivering. He extended his hand and somewhat pulled her into the store, turned on the light. It was pitch dark outside. She quickly weaved her hands through Adam’s hair, promptly so she would not lose the spirit of the eventful moment. Her fingers were now pulling his head to her lips, and like a python, she wound her body around his as they stood erect. There was a little disbelief on his face. She noticed him grow thick and large, against her thigh.
“I should die if you do, and I should die if I don’t,” he said in a breathless way. She chuckled a bit, and pushed harder into his body; the offense was over, they were both comfortable it seemed with the rhythmic and hypnotic environment being produced.
The drumming of the rain started again and she was now hissing in his ear, as his leg became saturated and overflowed with substance, then she knew, and stopped, smiled and said, “You really are Adam, I mean, good for me.”
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