The Journey by H. G. Adler Page A

nonetheless. She lay back exhausted. Since there was no warm furnace, she was almost frozen as again she noticed her surroundings. A door was ripped open. It was not daylight that pressed through, but a glow that didn’t come from any lamp. In the door there stood a man who looked young and healthy, who probably had a beautiful wife, almost as pretty as Caroline was as a girl, himself holding his head high and wearing a powerful belt. His voice sounded bright and carefree, almost pleased, as he waved his hand like someone waking the dead and called into the mass grave: “Everyone up!” Many of them quickly gotup, some of them propped themselves up, others sat up quickly, yet others jumped to their feet and stood there. They were alive, all alive. Caroline laughed and felt happy, feeling for a moment almost as if she were free.
    The sawdust flew about, many sneezed, all of them rubbed their eyes, yet they were alive and could even eat. No automaton did that. Caroline was again herself, she had her family once again and could fuss over them. She was willing to let anyone do to her what they wanted as long as they let her live. Everything would be taken care of. She heard that they had to obey, though it no longer needed to be said, since everyone knew it and it was no surprise. All that mattered was to be able to stand on your own feet. You could then get in line, for there was coffee. The liquid was warm. What did it matter that it wasn’t real coffee, since it still got your arms and legs moving and woke them up. Now the mannequins could walk, their little legs hastily shuffling over the winding passageways. They searched around, all of them mixing with one another, mannequins also streaming out of the neighboring barracks, the numbers tied to their chests flapping away. Sometimes one came up to another, lifted the number to his face in order to better decipher it, and then looked at the face itself. Again and again people were overjoyed to recognize one another!
    Then came the separation. Numbers were called out and then names as well, for not everyone was used to having a number, and some actually thought that they would not wear numbers forever and would forget them soon enough like so much else, hardly having put any effort into remembering them. But now the numbers were separated and sent here and there. Now there were many good-byes, but only a few felt the seriousness of the moment, and even they felt assured, because the numbers believed, as was solemnly promised them, that the town would not be very large but would be roomy enough, and there you could roam around, allowing everyone to soon find one another again. Man next to man and woman next to woman, thus they were placed together in those first early days; little terror was felt despite their overwhelming sense of surprise. Their faces also betrayed no sense of alarm, everything seemed fine, encouragement and seeming trust revealed in their glances and hand movements.
    Zerlina and Ida stood next to Caroline, full of anticipation and laughing at Leopold and Paul, who remained patient in order to make the timepass quickly for the women, whose departure was delayed for one reason or another. Certainly time didn’t pass too quickly, but also not too slowly; it was a continual stream that one simply had to trust. Now everything would again be easier than it had been in recent years or had been in the stressful months leading up to the journey. The leisurely pace of life had been restored, the separations made sense. What was wrong with your being forcibly removed if that was not what you felt at the moment? Certainly one day would follow another, each of them followed by night, rules would be followed, the day’s rhythms and the passing of seasons would make sense once again.
    Caroline waved. No mannequin knew how to wave an arm so delicately; she was no wax figure, that was certain. The milky white of the clouds parted a bit, blue could be detected, sunlight