Epitaph for a Working ManO

has spread to his inner organs. It’s in his lungs, with metastases on both sides of the diaphragm. That explains the pain, you know”
    He turned his head to make sure Father hadn’t come within hearing distance. “We’ll still give him radiation therapy,” he said. “Only superficially of course, not the lungs, there’d be no sense in that. But his back again. Otherwise that new little nodule might break open. And that would be most unpleasant.”
    Father was approaching slowly along the corridor, arguing about something or other with the male nurse.
    â€œHave you told him?” I asked.
    â€œNo, no, he needn’t know anything for the moment.”
    I must have looked at him questioningly because he added,
    â€œIt’s better we don’t tell him. At least not for the time being.”
    Then Father reached us.
    â€œWell, Mr Haller,” said the doctor, “that’s fixed. We’ll give you radiotherapy. Only small doses. We’ll be careful. There definitely won’t be any burns this time. It would be best if we could start at once. Today is Friday. Come again on Monday. Which is better for you, the morning or the afternoon? Arrange a time with the nurse.”
    Father protested. “Nothing suits me, not the morning and not the afternoon. I’ve got more important things to do than travel for hours through the Brühl district only to be shoved under a machine for a couple of minutes. Is it really necessary? Really, is there any use?”
    The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder. “Of course it’s necessary and it will certainly be of use.”
    Father looked at him. “Oh, really,” he said.
    â€œIt would be nice if you could fit it in,” the doctor added. “Once we’ve got it over with that’ll be that.”
    â€œWhatever you say,” said Father. “But it really isn’t convenient at the moment. There are a lot of things I have to get done. – Three times a week? Afternoons? Oh, all right, if I have to. You’re the expert, you must know.”
    â€œGood man,” said the doctor, and shook his hand.
    No respite any more now. The friendly male nurse with the broad face was even friendlier than before. The X-ray nurse chatted for a long time with Father. We missed the ten to four bus.
    *
    He should have been told the truth.
    *
    â€œI’ve always liked stonemasoning, and it’s something I know a lot about too – more than many of those young fellows today; there’s not much they can show me. I even enjoy the lousy fountains I piece together at Estermann’s. Guess what the material cost! One hundred and twenty francs the lot, offcuts from Späti’s saw shed. I even chose the stones myself, all kinds of varieties and colours, as you saw, and mainly limestone. Some of it’s from Späti’s quarry – the grey sort of course; the yellow stone’s useless, you’ve hardly started working on it and you’re already having to mend the holes. Actually the grey sort is in short supply, but they recently came on a stratum that’s reasonably profitable. Of course I didn’t tell Gerber that we were using the stones for a fountain – that would have been competing with Späti plc – just for a little garden wall, I said. Obviously, after all Estermann runs a building firm. Gerber just said, Haller, he said, you know where our leftovers are, they’re still in the same place, take whatever you need and when you’ve loaded up come by my office and the draughtsman can measure the quantities. I still know all the people at the quarry there, or most of them anyway. Gerber still runs around in his dusty coat, just as he used to; but he’ll soon be pensioned off; he blunders around like a startled wasp – apparently he still thinks that without him rushing about and bossing everyone around, nothing would ever get done at Späti’s.