Hanns Heinz Ewers Alraune (10 page)

“Where are we?” he asked drowsily.

“Almost to Friedrichstrasse station.”

He gathered his things together, climbed out
and went to the hotel. He got a room, bathed, changed clothes and
then went down for breakfast. He ran into Dr. Petersen at the
door.

“Oh there you are dear Doctor! His Excellency
will be overjoyed!”

His Excellency! Again his Excellency! It
sounded wrong to his ears.

“How is my uncle?” he asked. “Better?”

“Better?” repeated the doctor. “What do you
mean better? His Excellency has not been sick!”

“Is that so,” said Frank Braun. “Not sick!
That’s too bad. I thought uncle was on his deathbed.”

Dr. Petersen looked at him very bewildered.
“I don’t understand at all–”

He interrupted him, “It’s not important. I am
only sorry that the Privy Counsellor is not on his deathbed. That
would have been so nice! Then I would have inherited right? Unless
he has disowned me. That is also very possible–even more
likely.”

He saw the bewildered doctor standing before
him and fed on his discomfort for a moment.

Then he continued, “But tell me doctor, since
when has my uncle been called his Excellency?”

“It’s been four days, the opportunity–”

He interrupted him, “Only four days! And how
many years now have you been with him–as his right hand?”

“Now that would be at least ten years now,”
replied Dr. Petersen.

“And for ten years you have called him Privy
Councilor and he has replied back to you. But now in these four
days he has become so completely his Excellency to you that you
can’t even think of him any other way than in the third
person?”

“Permit me, Herr Doctor,” said the assistant
doctor, intimidated and pleading. Permit me to–What do you mean
anyway?”

But Frank Braun took him under the arm and
led him to the breakfast table.

“Oh, I know that you are a man of the world
doctor! One with form and manners–with an inborn instinct for
proper behavior–I know that–and now doctor, let’s have breakfast
and you can tell me what you have been up to in the meantime.”

Doctor Petersen gratefully sat down,
thoroughly reconciled and happy that was over with. This young
attorney that he had known as a young schoolboy was quite a windbag
and a true hothead–but he was the nephew–of his Excellency.

The assistant doctor was about thirty-six. He
was average and Frank Braun thought that everything about him was
“average”. His nose was not large or small. His features were not
ugly or handsome. He was not young anymore and yet he wasn’t old.
The color of his hair was exactly in the middle between dark and
light. He wasn’t stupid or brilliant either, not exactly boring and
yet not entertaining. His clothes were not elegant and yet not
ordinary either.

He was a good “average” in all things and
just the man the Privy Councilor needed. He was a competent worker,
intelligent enough to grasp and do what was asked of him and yet
not intelligent enough to know everything about this colorful game
his master played.

“By the way, how much does my uncle pay you?”
Frank Braun asked.

“Oh, not exactly splendid–but it is enough,”
was the answer. “I’m happy with it. At New Years I was given a four
hundred Mark raise.”

The doctor looked hungrily as the nephew
began his breakfast with fruit, eating an apple and a handful of
cherries.

“What kind of cigars do you smoke?” the
attorney inquired.

“What I smoke? Oh, an average kind–Not too
strong–he interrupted himself. But why do you ask doctor?”

“Only because,” said Frank Braun, “it
interests me–But now tell me what you have already done in these
things. Has the Privy Councilor shared his plans with you?”

“Certainly,” the doctor nodded proudly. “I am
the only one that knows–except for you of course. This effort is of
the highest scientific importance.”

The attorney cleared his throat, “Hmm–you
think so?”

“Entirely without a doubt,” confirmed the
doctor. “And his Excellency is so extremely gifted to have thought
it all out, taking care of every possible problem ahead of time.
You know how careful you have to be these days. The foolish public
is always attacking us doctors for so many of our absolutely
important experiments. Take vivisection–God, the people become sick
when they hear the word. What about our experiments with germs,
vaccines and so on? They are all thorns in the eyes of the public
even though we almost always only work with animals. And now, this
question of artificial insemination of people–

His Excellency has found the only possibility
in an executed murderer and a paid prostitute. Even the people
loving pastor would not have much against it.”

“Yes, it is a splendid idea,” Frank Braun
confirmed. “It is well that you can recognize the capacity of your
superior.”

Then Dr. Petersen reported how his Excellency
had made several attempts in Cologne with his help. Unfortunately
they had not had any success in finding an appropriate female. It
turned out that these creatures in this class of the population had
very different ideas about having to endure artificial
insemination. It was nearly impossible to talk to them about it at
all, much less persuade one to actually do it. It didn’t matter how
eloquent his Excellency spoke or how hard he tried to make them
understand that it would not be dangerous at all; that they would
earn a nice piece of money and be doing the scientific community a
great service. One had screamed loudly that she would rather
service the entire scientific community–and made a very rude
gesture.

“Pfui!” Frank Braun said. “If only she
could!”

It was a very good thing that his Excellency
had the opportunity to travel to Berlin for the Gynecological
Conference. Here in the metropolis there would no doubt be a much
wider selection to choose from. The women in question would not be
as stupid as in the province, would have less superstitious fear of
the new and be more open and practical regarding the money they
could make and the important service they could provide to the
advancement of science.

“Especially the last!” Frank Braun
emphasized.

Dr. Petersen obliged him with:

“It is unbelievable how old fashioned their
ideas are in Cologne! Every Guinea pig, yes, even every monkey is
infinitely more insightful and reasonable than those females. I
almost lost my faith in the towering intellect of humanity. I hope
that here I can regain that shaken belief and make it solid once
more.”

“There is no doubt about it,” the attorney
encouraged him. “It would be a real shame indeed if Berlin’s
prostitutes couldn’t do any better than Guinea-pigs and
monkeys!

By the way, when is my uncle coming? Is he up
already?”

“Oh, he’s been up for a long time now,”
declared the assistant doctor zealously. “His Excellency left
immediately. He had a ten o’clock audience at the Ministry.”

“And after that?” Frank Braun asked.

“I don’t know how long it will last,”
reasoned Doctor Petersen. “In any case his Excellency requested I
wait for him in the auditorium at two o’clock. Then at five o’clock
his Excellency has another important meeting with a Berlin
colleague here in the hotel and around seven his Excellency is
invited to eat with the university president.

Herr Doctor, perhaps you could meet in
between–”

Frank Braun considered. Basically he was in
favor of his uncle being occupied the entire day. Then his uncle
wouldn’t be around to interfere with his day.

I want you to deliver a message to my uncle,”
he said. “Tell him we will meet up downstairs in the hotel around
eleven o’clock.”

“Around eleven o’clock?” The assistant doctor
made a somewhat dubious face. “Isn’t that a little late? His
Excellency is in the habit of going to bed around that time and
after such a strenuous day.”

“His Excellency must exert himself a little
bit longer today doctor.” Frank Braun decided. “Deliver the
message. The hour is certainly not too late for our purpose. It’s
almost too early–In fact, it would be better if it were twelve
o’clock instead–That way if poor uncle is too tired he can rest a
bit ahead of time. Goodbye Doctor–until this evening.”

He stood up, nodded curtly and left. He bit
his teeth together, feeling at the same moment as his lips closed
just how childish, how much of a mad mess it all was. He was almost
ashamed of how he had treated the good doctor, how small he had
been, how cheap his joke was. All of his nerves and sinews screamed
for action–and instead he let his thistle headed brain scatter in a
thousand directions–while he played childish pranks!

Dr. Petersen watched him go.

“He is full of pride,” he said to himself.
“Not once did he offer to shake my hand.”

He ordered another coffee, added a little
cream and deliberated while smearing butter on another slice of
bread.

Then with innermost conviction, “Pride goes
before the fall!”

Very satisfied with this wholesome common
wisdom he bit into the white bread and raised the cup to his
mouth.

It was closer to one o’clock that evening
when Frank Braun finally appeared.

“Excuse me uncle,” he said lightly.

“Now dear nephew,” replied the Privy
Councilor. “We have been waiting way too long!”

“I had something better to do uncle, and by
the way you are not waiting here because of me but only because of
your purpose.”

The professor squinted over at him.
“Youngster–” he began, but he controlled himself. “No, let it go. I
am grateful that you have come here to help me nephew. Are you
ready to go now?”

“No,” declared Frank Braun blinded in
childish defiance. “I will have a whiskey soda first. We have
enough time.”

That was his nature now, driving everything
to the limit, sensitive and thin skinned to every little word,
taking offence at even the slightest provocation. He always said
harsh things to others but couldn’t endure the softest rebuke or
criticism himself. He could feel how the old gentleman was hurt by
his actions but knew the real reason his uncle was hurt was because
he needed his stupid young nephew, that is what really sickened and
offended his uncle.

It almost felt like a put down that the Privy
Councilor was so completely oblivious, couldn’t see through the
shabby surface behavior, couldn’t understand the blonde defiance
for what it really was. While he on the other hand had to resist
whether he wanted to or not, be more of a pirate than he really
was, pull the mask still tighter and go his insolent way like he
had discovered on the Montmartre, shock the bourgeois.

He leisurely emptied his glass, then stood up
negligently like a bored, melancholy prince, “Whenever you
gentlemen are ready.”

He looked down on his guests from above as if
they were infinitely beneath him.

“Innkeeper, a cab.”

They left. The Privy Councilor was quiet, his
upper lip hung down deeply, fat tear ducts drained over his cheeks.
His mighty ears stuck out on both sides and the glittering right
eye shone green in the dark.

“He looks like an owl,” thought Frank Braun.
“Like an ugly old owl searching for a mouse.”

Dr. Petersen sat open mouthed in the front
seat. He couldn’t comprehend the unbelievable behavior of the
nephew towards his uncle.

It wasn’t long before the young man once more
found his equilibrium–Why should he get angry at the old ass? In
the end his good side came out as he helped the Privy Councilor out
of the cab.

“Here we are,” he cried. “Please step
inside.”

“Café Stern” it said on the large sign
illuminated with electric lights. They went inside, down long rows
of small marble tables and through a crowd of noisy and yelling
people. Finally they sat down. This was a good place. Many women
sat around all decked out with enormous hats and colorful silk
blouses, multitudes of flesh waiting for customers. They were
spread out lounging around like window displays.

“Is this one of the better places?” the Privy
Councilor asked.

The nephew shook his head. “No Uncle Jakob,
not at all. We wouldn’t find what we wanted there–This might even
be too good. We need the bottom dregs.”

In the back a man in a greasy tight fitting
suit sat at a piano continually playing one popular song after
another. At times a few drinkers bellowed out words to the songs
until the bouncer came over to quiet them down and tell them that
this was a respectable place and they couldn’t do that.

Little clerks ran around and a couple good
citizens from the province sat at a nearby table making advances
and talking dirty to the prostitutes. A waiter swung between the
tables bringing an unappetizing brown sauce in glasses and a yellow
one in cups. It was called bouillon and the other Melange. He also
carried a full carafe of schnapps with little striped shot
glasses.

Two women came up to their table and asked
for coffee. It was no big deal; they just sat down and ordered.

“The blonde perhaps?” whispered Dr.
Petersen.

But the attorney waved him away. “No, no not
at all–She is only flesh. Not much better than your monkeys.”

A short one in the back of the room caught
his eye. She was dark and her eyes seethed with eagerness. He stood
up and waved to her. She loosened herself from her companion and
came over to him.

“Listen–” he began.

But she said, “Not tonight, I already have a
gentleman–Tomorrow if you want.”

“Get rid of him,” he urged. “Come with us. We
are looking for something special.”

That was tempting. “Tomorrow– can’t it wait
until tomorrow darling? I really can’t tonight. He’s an old
customer. He paid twenty Marks.”

Frank Braun gripped her arm, “I will pay much
more, a lot more. Do you understand? You will have it made. It’s
not for me–It’s for the old man over there. He wants something
special.”