Night Games: And Other Stories and Novellas (3 page)

`LIEUTENANT! . . . LIEUTENANT! . . . LIEUTENANT!" Only after
the third call did the young officer move, stretch himself, and turn his
head toward the door. Still half asleep, he growled from between the pillows, "What's going on?" Then, having roused himself, and seeing that it
was only his orderly standing in the shadow of the half-opened door, he
shouted, "What the devil do you want so early in the morning?"

"There is a gentleman below in the courtyard, sir, who wishes to
speak with you, sir."

"What do you mean, a gentleman? What time is it? Didn't I tell you
not to wake me on Sundays?"

The orderly walked over to the bed and handed Wilhelm a visiting
card.

"Do you think I'm an owl, you blockhead? Do you think I can read
in the dark? Pull up the shades!"

Even before the command was finished, Joseph had opened the
inner shutters of the window and drawn up the dirty white curtain. The
lieutenant, half sitting up in bed, could now read the name on the card.
He let it fall on the bedcovers, looked at it again, ran his fingers through
his blonde, close-cropped, morning-messy hair, and thought quickly:
"Send him away? Impossible! I don't really have any reason to. Just because I receive someone, that doesn't imply that I'm close friends with
him. Anyway, it was only because of his debts that he had to quit the regiment. Others just have better luck. But what could he want from me?"

He turned back to his orderly: "How does he look, the first lieut-I
mean, Herr von Bogner?"

The orderly replied with a broad but somewhat melancholy smile:
"If I may be permitted to say so, sir, the first lieutenant looked better in
uniform."

Wilhelm was silent for a moment, then sat up more comfortably in
the bed. "Well, ask him to come in. And beg the-first lieutenant-to be
so good as to excuse me if I'm not quite dressed. And see here-if any of
the other officers should ask for me, First Lieutenant Hochster or Lieutenant Wengler, or the captain, or anyone else-I'm not at home. Understand?"

As Joseph closed the door behind him, Wilhelm hurriedly pulled on
his shirt, ran a comb through his hair, and, crossing to the window,
looked down into the still-deserted courtyard of the barracks. As he saw
his former comrade walking up and down with bowed head, a stiff, black
hat pressed down over his forehead, in an unbuttoned yellow overcoat
and brown, not very clean shoes, he felt a pang of sympathy. He opened
the window and was almost at the point of waving to the waiting man
and greeting him out loud when he saw his orderly approach him and
Wilhelm observed, by the anxious and drawn look on his old friend's
face, with how much emotion he was waiting for the answer. Since it was
favorable, Bogner's features lightened, and he disappeared with the orderly through the door beneath Wilhelm's window-which Wilhelm now
closed, as though he suspected that the coming conversation would call
for that kind of precaution. All at once the odor of forest and spring was
gone again-that odor which permeated the courtyard of the barracks on
such Sunday mornings, but which curiously enough could never be noticed on weekdays. Whatever happens, thought Wilhelm-and what
could happen anyway?-I'm going to Baden today, and I'll have dinner
at the Stadt Wien-if they don't keep me for dinner at the Kessners as
they did the other day.

"Come in!" And with rather exaggerated cordiality, Wilhelm held
out his hand. "How are you, Bogner? I'm delighted to see you. Won't
you take off your coat? Yes, look around; everything's the same as ever.
The place hasn't gotten any larger. But there's room enough in the smallest hut for a happy ..."

Otto smiled politely, as if he were aware of Wilhelm's embarrassment and wished to help him out of it. "I hope," he said, "that your quote
about the 'smallest hut' is usually more apt than it is at the moment."

Wilhelm laughed more loudly than was necessary. "Unfortunately,
it isn't often. I live quite simply. I assure you. no female foot has stepped
into this room for at least six weeks. Plato was a womanizer compared to
me. But do sit down." He took some linen from a chair and threw it on
the bed. "And may I offer you a cup of coffee?"

"Thank you, Kasda, don't go to any trouble for me. I've already had
breakfast.... A cigarette, though, if you don't mind...."

Wilhelm wouldn't permit Otto to use his own cigarette case but
pointed to the smoking stand, where an open box of his cigarettes was
lying. Wilhelm offered him a light, and Otto silently took a few puffs,
glancing at the well-known picture that hung on the wall above the black
leather sofa and depicted an old-fashioned officers' steeplechase.

"Well, now tell me about yourself," said Wilhelm. "How've you
been? How come no one has heard from you for such a long time? When
we parted-two or three years ago now-you did promise that from time
to time you-"

Otto interrupted him: "It was better, perhaps, that I let no one see or
hear of me, and it would certainly have been better if I hadn't been
obliged to come to you today, either." And, to Wilhelm's surprise, he suddenly sat down in a corner of the sofa whose other corner was filled with
a clutter of well-thumbed books. "For, as you may well imagine,
Willi"-he spoke rapidly and sharply-"my visit today, at this unusual
hour-I know you like to sleep in on Sundays-my visit, of course, has a
purpose. Otherwise I'd certainly not have allowed myself-to be brief,
I've come in the name of our old friendship-unfortunately, I can't say
our 'comradeship' any longer. You don't have to turn so pale, Willi; it's
nothing dangerous. It's a question of a few gulden, which I simply must
have by tomorrow morning, because if I don't, there's nothing left for me
to do but"-his voice rose to a military pitch-"well-what I should
have done two years ago if I had been wiser."

"Don't talk nonsense!" said Wilhelm in a tone of annoyance tempered by friendly embarrassment.

The orderly brought in breakfast and disappeared. Willi poured the coffee. He became conscious of a bitter taste in his mouth and felt peeved
that he had not been able to complete his morning toilet. Fortunately he
had planned to take a Turkish bath on his way to the station. He didn't
need to be in Baden until around noon anyway. He hadn't made a definite
appointment, and if he were to show up late-yes, even if he were not to
come at all, no one would think it strange, neither the men in the Cafe
Schopf nor Miss Kessner. Only her mother-who wasn't bad-looking
herself-might wonder why he hadn't come.

"Please, do help yourself," he said to Otto, who had not yet put the
cup to his lips.

Otto took a quick sip and started at once, "I'll be brief: maybe you
know that for the last three months I've had a position as a cashier in the
office of an electrical installation company. But why should you know
that? You don't even know that I'm married and have a son-a four-yearold boy. You see, I already had him when I was here. No one knew. Well,
anyway, things didn't go so well for me. You can imagine. It was especially bad this last winter. The boy was ill-well, the details can't really
be of interest to you-and so I was forced to borrow from the cash
drawer on a few occasions. I've always paid it back in time. But this time
it was a bit more than usual, unfortunately, and"-he paused for a moment while Wilhelm stirred his coffee with his spoon-"and even worse,
as luck would have it, I learned just by chance that this time, on Monday,
tomorrow morning in other words, we're to be audited by the company
headquarters. We're a branch, you understand, and we handle only very
small accounts. Really, the amount I owe is trivial-nine hundred and
sixty gulden. Let's say a thousand, more or less. But the exact amount is
nine hundred and sixty. And that has to be there tomorrow by half past
eight, otherwise-well, you get the idea. You really would be doing me a
tremendous favor, Willi, if you could-"

Suddenly, he could go no further. Willi was a little embarrassed for
him, not so much because of the petty cheating or-well, theft, that's
what it really was-which his old comrade was guilty of, but rather because the former First Lieutenant Otto von Bogner-only a few years
ago a popular, well-situated, and fashionable young officer-now sat pale and crumpled in a corner of the sofa, unable to go on talking because he was choking back tears.

He placed his hand on Otto's shoulder. "Come on, Otto," he said,
"you don't have to take it so tragically." As if in answer to this not very
auspicious beginning, Otto looked up at him with a desolate, frightened
air, so Wilhelm added, "The trouble is, I'm pretty broke myself just now.
My entire fortune at the moment consists of a little over a hundred
gulden. A hundred and twenty, to be as exact as you were. Of course it
goes without saying that the entire amount is at your disposal, down to
the last kreuzer. But if we make an effort, I'm sure we can think of some
way out."

Otto interrupted him. "You can be sure that I've already exhausted
all the other-ways. So we don't have to waste time racking our brains
unnecessarily-especially since I've come with a definite proposal."

Wilhelm looked at him intently.

"Try to imagine, Willi, that you found yourself in just such a difficulty. What would you do?"

"I don't quite understand," Willi replied defensively.

"Naturally, I know that you've never taken money from someone
else's cash drawer-that's something that can only happen in civilian
life. Okay. But still, if for some-less criminal-reason you desperately
needed a certain sum of money, to whom would you turn?"

"I'm sorry. Otto, but I've never thought about something like that,
and I hope ... Of course, I don't deny that I've also sometimes had
debts. Just last month Hochster helped me out with fifty gulden, which of
course I repaid him on the first. That's why I'm so short right now. But a
thousand gulden-a thousand!-I have absolutely no idea how I could
get a hold of such a sum!"

"You really don't?" said Otto, looking him squarely in the eye.

"That's what I said."

"What about your uncle?"

"What uncle?"

"Your Uncle Robert."

"What-makes you think of him?"

"Why, it's obvious. He's helped you out on several occasions. And
you have a regular allowance from him as well."

"There hasn't been an allowance for a long time now," answered
Willi, annoyed by the inappropriate tone his former comrade had taken.
"And not only is there no more allowance: Uncle Robert has become
an eccentric. The truth is that I haven't set eyes on him for over a year
now. And the last time I went to him for a little something-as a very
special accommodation-well, he practically threw me out of the
house."

"Hmm. Is that so?" Bogner rubbed his forehead. "So you really feel
it's totally out of the question?"

"I hope you don't doubt my word," replied Wilhelm sharply.

Suddenly Bogner rose from the corner of the sofa, pushed the table
aside, and went over to the window. "We have to try it anyway," he then
said with certainty. "Yes, pardon me, but we must. The worst that can
happen to you is that he'll say no. And maybe not too politely. But compared to what I'll have to face if I don't succeed in getting the few paltry
gulden together by tomorrow morning, that's nothing but a little unpleasantness."

"Maybe," said Wilhelm, "but it would be an unpleasantness that
would serve absolutely no purpose. If there were the slightest chancewell, I trust that you don't doubt my good intentions. But damn it, there
must be other possibilities. For example-don't get angry, I just thought
of it-what about your cousin Guido, the one who has the estate near
Amstetten?"

"I assure you, Willi," Bogner replied calmly, "that there's no possibility of getting anything from him. If there were, I certainly wouldn't be
here. In short, there's no person on the face of the earth-"

Willi suddenly lifted a finger, as if an idea had just struck him.
Bogner looked at him expectantly.

"Rudi Hochster-what if you were to try him! Only a few months
ago, as it happens, he received an inheritance. Twenty or twenty-five
thousand gulden! He's got to have some of that left!"

Bogner wrinkled his brow, then replied with some hesitation,
"Once, three weeks ago, when it wasn't half as urgent as it is now, I wrote to him, asking for much less than a thousand, and he never even
answered me. So you see, there is just one possible solution-your
uncle." And, as Willi shrugged his shoulders, he added, "After all, I
know him, Willi-he's such a likable, charming old gentleman. We were
at the theatre together several times, and at Riedhof's-he'll no doubt remember. For God's sake, he can't suddenly have become someone else!"

Willi interrupted him impatiently. "But it seems that he has! I don't
know myself what's happened to him. But it's not uncommon for people
between fifty and sixty to change in peculiar ways. I can't tell you any
more than that-for at least fifteen months or more I haven't been in his
house and-in short-I'll never under any circumstances enter it again."

Bogner stared ahead. Then suddenly he looked at Willi absentmindedly and said, "Well, sorry to have troubled you then. Goodbye." And,
taking his hat, he turned to go.

"Otto," cried Willi, "wait! I have another idea."

"Another idea? Good!"

"Well, listen to me, Bogner. I'm going out to the country today-to
Baden. There, on Sunday afternoons, in the Cafe Schopf, we sometimes
gamble a little: a friendly game of twenty-one, or baccarat, as the case
may be. Of course, I only play very modestly, if at all. I've played three
or four times, mostly just for the fun of it. The main organizer is Dr.
Tugut, the regiment doctor, who incidentally has recently had a fantastic
run of good luck. Lieutenant Wimmer is usually there, and Greising, of
the 77th.... You don't know him. He's in treatment in Baden-on account of an old ailment. A few civilians also participate-a local attorney, the manager of the local theatre, an actor, and an older man, a certain
Consul Schnabel. He's having an affair with an operetta singer-well, really a chorus girl-there. Those are the regulars. Two weeks ago, Tugut
raked in no less than three thousand gulden from Schnabel in a single sitting. We played on the open veranda until six o'clock in the morning, to
the musical accompaniment of the morning birds. The hundred and
twenty gulden that I still have today I owe only to my endurance-otherwise I'd be totally broke. Tell you what, Otto-I'll bet a hundred of those
hundred and twenty for you today. I know the chances of winning aren't
overwhelming, but only a few days ago Tugut sat down with only fifty and got up with three thousand. And there is still another point-in the
last few months I haven't had any luck at all in love. Maybe we can rely
more on the old saying than on people!"