Too Many Men (50 page)

“I am not pretending,” he gasped.

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L I L Y B R E T T

Ruth steadied herself. The spot she had chosen to dig her heel into had been frozen. She had nearly slipped. “Fuck you,” she said. “I’m sick of you.”

“Why do you persist with these obscenities?” Höss said. “Even taking into account my improved English, they do not offend me.”

“Well, you’d better become familiar with them because English is becoming the language of the future in Europe. That is, if you do have a future,” Ruth said.

“Of course I have a future,” Höss said. “I have explained this to you before. Dead people have a future. It is as complicated a future as any person’s future can be.”

“What sort of complications are you talking about?” Ruth said.

“There are certain things you have to relive when you are dead,” Höss said. “Certain portions of your life and sometimes, of your death.”

“Really?” said Ruth. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“The reliving of your life has a different connotation, in Himmel,” Höss said. “I have noticed that in Himmel they seem on the whole to relive very pleasant aspects of their lives.”

“But not in Zweites Himmel’s Lager?” Ruth said.

“No,” Höss said. He sounded glum.

“That’s good,” she said. Höss overlooked her barb.

Ruth had an image of Zweites Himmel’s Lager as a vast space populated with people who were reliving their living and their dying, trying to get it right. And in all probability repeating every aspect of their original lives. It was hard to change, hard to learn, even from your own experience.

“I did hear the rumors about English becoming the language of Europe,” Höss said. “In Himmel they give advanced English classes to all the Europeans. In Zweites Himmel’s Lager we have to earn the privilege.”

He sighed. “We have to earn the privilege for almost everything, it seems.”

“Well, you must be a slow earner,” Ruth said. Höss didn’t reply. “It’s a pun on a slow learner,” she said. “It’s a common English expression.” She shook her head in irritation. Why was she pointing out puns and summing up musicals to Höss?

“I heard this morning that the German government is closing down even more of the Goethe Institutes around the world,” Höss said. “You know of course about the Goethe Institutes?”

T O O M A N Y M E N

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“Of course,” she said. “The Goethe Institutes are entrusted with the promotion of the German language abroad. I won a prize for reciting
Der
Erlkönig
at the Goethe Institute, in Melbourne when I was thirteen.”

“I know this,” Höss said.

“You know that?” Ruth said. She felt a bit queasy. How much did Höss know about her? And how long had he known her? How long had he been watching her? Had he been watching her?

“Of course,” Höss said. What was he replying to? Ruth thought. Her question or her thought? She had another drink of water. She felt quite sick. Höss always did this to her. He made her feel sick.

“You were suffering from nausea brought on by stress long before you met me, were you not?” Höss said. Ruth nodded her head. “They have already closed twenty-three Goethe Institutes around the world,” Höss said. “By failing to spread the use of German, Germany is surrendering its influence on world affairs.”

“That may not be so bad,” Ruth said. She suddenly felt a discomfort in Höss. She wasn’t sure how she could detect this. It was a small shift in something. Something slight. A slight pitch, a slight tone, a slight noise. A sound of discomfort, of disturbance, of disquiet.

“I know where you are going,” Höss said.

“I’m going back to the hotel,” Ruth said.

“I know where you are going,” he said. “I know why you came here.”

“Really?” she said. “I wish I did.”

“This is not a time for humor,” Höss said.

Höss didn’t sound well. His bravado had diminished. He sounded pan-icked. “You are going to Auschwitz,” he said.

“Oh, so that’s what’s disturbing you,” she said.

Höss coughed. “I am not at all disturbed,” he said.

“At least you know that it’s a death camp and not a museum,” Ruth said.

“Of course I know this,” Höss said. “I myself have corrected some inmates of Zweites Himmel’s Lager.”

“I bet there are a lot of Poles up there with you using the term

‘Auschwitz Museum,’ ” Ruth said. “Are they the ones you have to correct the most?”

“I would say that is correct,” Höss said. “Although quite a few others persist in making this mistake.”

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L I L Y B R E T T

Ruth sighed. It was depressing that even in death you encountered the same denial.

“I was not the commandant of a museum,” Höss said.

“That would feel like a demotion to you, wouldn’t it?” Ruth said.

“Of course,” said Höss. Ruth thought she heard a faint humph after the

“of course.”

“Every German had to commit himself with all his heart in order for us to win the war,” Höss said.

“Is that what you were doing?” Ruth said. “I thought you were murdering Jews.”

“I was eliminating certain parts of the population,” Höss said. “That was my main aim. But it was also my job to ensure that this project contributed to the war. This was strictly in accordance with the directive of the Reichsführer-SS. He declared that everything had to be sacrificed in the interests of one goal. To win the war.”

“You didn’t sacrifice anything on the prisoners,” Ruth said. “You sped up the death process and used up the residue of every Jew. Their hair, their teeth, and other bits and pieces. You fed them less, worked them harder, dispensed with them faster, looted their bodies when you had already remaindered their possessions. You cared less, if that was possible. Not a cent was to be squandered on any prisoner.”

“You understand exactly what had to be done,” Höss said.

“I understand?” said Ruth. “I’ll never understand.” She contemplated kicking Höss. Grinding her heel into the ground in a ferocious kick. But she couldn’t be bothered. She would have to kick till her feet dropped off if there was to be any retribution.

“Himmler stated very clearly that the severe conditions in the camp were of secondary importance,” Höss said.

“Secondary importance?” Ruth said. “Wouldn’t no importance be more accurate?”

“Why do you insist on interrupting me?” Höss said. “I am trying to convey an extremely complex situation to you. In the summer of 1941 the Reichsführer-SS gave me firm orders to assemble whatever was needed to make Auschwitz capable of mass exterminations,” Höss said.

“So it was all really Himmler’s fault?” Ruth said. “Is that what you’re saying?”

T O O M A N Y M E N

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“The Reichsführer’s orders were not open for discussion,” Höss said.

“They were orders. They were not negotiations. I had no idea of course of the outcome or the effect of these orders.”

“I think we could agree that the obvious and apparent outcome would be a lot of dead people,” Ruth said.

“I was not aware of the consequences at the time,” Höss said.

“Consequences to whom?” Ruth said. “To you?”

“Consequences in general,” Höss said.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Ruth said. “You’re talking about consequences for yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” Höss said.

“You’re going to be stuck here for years. Decades,” Ruth said. “I doubt if you’ll ever see those famed gates of Himmel.”

“You are merely trying to upset me,” Höss said.

“I’m not trying at all,” Ruth said. She moved her heel, slightly. She knew by a small sound, a tiny auditory wave, that Höss had twitched. He had felt her movement.

“The order from the Reichsführer-SS was without question a deplorable and atrocious order,” Höss said.

“Are you capitulating?” Ruth said. “Surely not.”

“It was, as I said, certainly atrocious and deplorable,” Höss said. “And excessive. But nevertheless, the reasons behind the extermination program seemed to me to be sound.”

“Thank God, you’re still yourself,” Ruth said. “For a minute I thought you had turned into a humanitarian.”

Höss laughed. A thin, snakelike slither of a laugh. The laugh made Ruth shiver. Was Höss laughing at the image of himself as a humanitarian? Or was he laughing with pleasure at the steadfastness of his own views?

“I suspect the reasons and premises behind the mass exterminations still seem right to you,” Ruth said. Höss stopped laughing.

“Now, as then,” he said. “The question of whether this mass extermination of the Jews was essential or not was not something that I myself could address. I did not have the full facts at my disposal.”

“Wow,” said Ruth. “You still feel there’s room for discussion about the merit of Hitler’s program?”

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L I L Y B R E T T

“The Reichsführer was the Führer’s representative,” Höss said. “It was for me exactly as if Hitler himself had given me this order.”

“It would probably be in your interests to cover up some of that earnest rectitude,” Ruth said.

Höss seemed not to understand. “The final solution to the Jewish question had to be addressed. For me to consider the merits of the Führer’s orders was out of the question,” he said.

Ruth felt depressed. She didn’t want to hear any more.

“I am the target of many people,” Höss said. “Even in Zweites Himmel’s Lager. I do not understand why. What I did was not so wrong. I was nationalistic. Many countries including democratic England have a concept of nationalism, ‘My country, right or wrong.’ Every patriotic Englishman adheres to this belief.”

“I’m not sure you’ve correctly grasped the concept of patriotism,” Ruth said. “It could be a requirement for entry into Himmel.”

“It is not,” Höss said. “Patriotism is discouraged. Humanism is what is encouraged.”

“Then you’re in trouble,” Ruth said. “Humanism is not easily learned.”

“There are many classes in humanity in Zweites Himmel’s Lager,”

Höss said.

“Have you been to any?” Ruth asked.

“I cannot attend these classes,” Höss said. “One must pass the sensitivity-training class to qualify for attendance in a humanity class.”

“It’s a prerequisite?” said Ruth.

“Yes, unfortunately,” said Höss.

“It’s not that unfortunate,” Ruth said. “If you’re having trouble with sensitivity, you’d really be in trouble with humanity.”

Höss let out a sigh. A sigh long enough to have expelled every ounce of air from his lungs, if he still had lungs. “I need to pass these classes,” he said. “I am tired of Zweites Himmel’s Lager. I hear they have wonderful concerts in Himmel. Concerts performed by splendid musicians. We can hear faint strains of the music coming from Himmel, in Zweites Himmel’s Lager. We hear just enough to discern what is being played, but not enough to hear it.”

Ruth wondered if Höss felt she should feel sorry for him. “Yesterday, Mario Lanza gave a concert in Himmel,” Höss said.

T O O M A N Y M E N

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“Mario Lanza?” Ruth said. She hadn’t heard anyone mention Mario Lanza for years. Her mother used to love Mario Lanza. Rooshka used to sing “Arrivederci Roma” sometimes while she was doing the dishes. Ruth always knew that her mother was feeling happy if she heard the refrain of

“Arrivederci Roma” or “The Loveliest Night of the Year” coming from the kitchen.

“Mario Lanza became popular after I passed away,” Höss said.

“After you passed away?” said Ruth. “After you were executed, you mean. After you were burnt down to a fine ash. After you were completely cremated.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Höss said. Why did she say
completely
cremated? Was it possible to be partially cremated? Probably. She couldn’t see why not.

“Mario Lanza is giving concerts in Himmel, is he?” Ruth said.

“Yes,” said Höss glumly.

Ruth’s spirits rose. Maybe her mother was listening to Mario Lanza. She immediately felt foolish. Her mother was dead. Not listening to Mario Lanza sing “If You Were Mine,” despite what Höss said. Höss was probably making all of this up. She couldn’t trust Höss. How could you trust a presence? Especially an ex-Nazi presence. She corrected herself. There was nothing ex about Höss’s Nazi affiliations. They were well and firmly present.

“I know what you are thinking,” Höss said. “I can assure you that you can trust me. It is not in my interests to lie to you. I feel better than I have felt in many years. I am, finally, on the right path.”

“Where does the path lead to?” Ruth said.

“Even I am not sure of that,” Höss said.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Ruth said to Höss. She surprised her -

self by saying this. Höss seemed surprised, too.

“I am surprised to hear this,” he said.

“I am glad I can surprise you,” Ruth said. “I thought nothing could.”

“I went to Mass yesterday,” Höss said. “This is something I have not done in over eighty years.”

“You have Mass in Zweites Himmel’s Lager?” Ruth said.

“Of course,” said Höss.

“So you have priests up there?” said Ruth.

“Many fine priests,” Höss said.

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L I L Y B R E T T

Ruth decided not to point out to Höss the discrepancy between his description of the priests as fine, and the fact that these priests were in hell.

“We’re very close to the train tracks that led to Auschwitz, aren’t we?”

Ruth said. She knew that the main railway station of Kraków was close to the heart of the city. Not far from where she was standing. She knew that some of the transports had been rerouted to avoid the city center. Höss hadn’t answered the question. “We’re close to the tracks that took people to your kingdom of evil, aren’t we?” she said.

“Kingdom of evil?” Höss said. He laughed. “What do you know about evil?” he said. For the first time his laugh sounded vicious. Ruth shuddered. “You think that to blink one of your eyes five times will protect you from evil?” Höss said. “You have to be mad in order to think that five blinks could safeguard a person. If you could eliminate or make up for bad thoughts by blinking one eye, no one would be still in Zweites Himmel’s Lager.” He roared with laughter. Ruth could feel the earth beside her, in the Planty, rumble with Höss’s laugh. She decided to give up her habit of blinking either eye. She decided she didn’t need it anymore.