thought as he approached.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
“What the hell do you want, lad?”
“I need a job.”
“Get lost. I don’t need anyone.”
“I’m strong, sir, and I could help you unload this cart really fast.”
The coal man deigned to glance at Paul for the first time, looking him up and down. Paul was wearing his black trousers, white shirt, and sweater, and still looked like a waiter. Compared to the corpulence of the big man in front of him, Paul felt like a weakling.
“How old are you, lad?”
“Seventeen, sir,” lied Paul.
“Even my aunt Bertha, who was terrible at guessing people’s ages, poor thing, wouldn’t put you at any more than fifteen. Besides, you’re too scrawny. Get lost.”
“I turn sixteen on May twenty-second,” said Paul, sounding offended.
“In any case, you’re no use to me.”
“I can lug a basket of coal perfectly well, sir.”
He climbed up onto the cart with great agility, took a shovel, and filled up one of the baskets. Then, trying not to let the effort show, he put the straps over his shoulder. He could tell that the fifty kilos were destroying his shoulders and lower back, but he managed a smile.
“See?” he said, using all his willpower to keep his legs from buckling.
“Kid, there’s more to it than picking up a basket,” said the coal man, taking a packet of tobacco out of his pocket and lighting a battered pipe. “My old aunt Lotta could pick up that basket with less fuss than you. You need to be able to carry it down steps that are as damp and slippery as a showgirl’s crotch. The cellars we go down to almost never have any light, because the building administrators don’t give a damn if we smash our heads open. And maybe you could get one basket down, maybe two, but by the third-”
Paul’s knees and shoulders could no longer take the weight and the boy fell facedown onto the pile of coal.
“-you’ll tumble over, as you’ve just done. And if that were to happen to you on those narrow stairs, yours wouldn’t be the only skull to get broken.”
The lad clambered up on stiff legs.
“But-”
“There’s no ‘but’ that’ll make me change my mind, kid. Get off my cart.”
“I… could tell you a way of making your business better.”
“Just what I need… And what would that be?” asked the coal man with a mocking laugh.
“You lose a lot of time between finishing one delivery and beginning the next because you have to go to the warehouse to collect more coal. If you bought a second cart…”
“That’s your bright idea, eh? A good cart with steel axles to take all the weight we carry costs at least seven thousand marks, not counting the harnesses and horses. Have you got seven thousand marks in those tatty trousers? I’d guess not.”
“But you-”
“I make enough to pay for the coal and to keep my family. You don’t think I’ve thought about getting another cart? I’m sorry, kid,” he said, his tone softening as he noticed the dejection in Paul’s eyes, “but I can’t help you.”
Paul bowed his head, defeated. He’d have to find work somewhere else, and quickly, because the landlady’s patience wouldn’t last much longer. He was getting down from the cart when a group of people approached them.
“What’s this, then, Klaus? A new recruit?”
Klaus’s assistant was returning with the doorman. But it was another, older man, short and bald, with round glasses and a leather briefcase, who had addressed the coal man.
“No, Herr Finken, it’s just a kid who came looking for work, but he’s on his way now.”
“Well, he has the mark of your trade on his face.”
“He seemed determined to prove himself, sir. What can I do for you?”
“Look, Klaus, I have another engagement to get to, and I thought of settling up this month’s coal. Is that the whole lot?”
“Yes, sir, the two tons you ordered, every ounce.”
“I trust you absolutely, Klaus.”
Paul turned on hearing those words. He’d just understood where the coal man’s real capital lay.
Trust. And he’d be damned if he couldn’t convert that into money. If only they’ll listen to me, he thought, returning to the group.
“Well, if you don’t mind…” Klaus was saying.
“Just a moment!”
“Might I inquire what exactly you’re doing here, kid? I’ve told you I don’t need you.”
“You’d need me if you had another cart, sir.”
“Are you stupid? I don’t have another cart! Excuse me, Herr Finken, I can’t shake this lunatic off.”
The coal man’s assistant, who’d been giving Paul suspicious looks for a while, made a move toward him, but his boss gestured for him to stay back. He didn’t want to make a scene in front of the customer.
“If I could supply you with the means to buy another cart,” said Paul, moving away from the assistant while trying to maintain his dignity, “would you hire me?”
Klaus scratched his head.
“Well, yes, I suppose I would,” he conceded.
“All right. Would you be so good as to tell me what margin you get for bringing the coal?”
“The same as everyone else. A respectable eight percent.”
Paul did some quick calculations.
“Herr Finken, would you agree to pay Herr Graf a thousand marks as a down payment in exchange for a discount of four percent on the price of coal for a year?”
“That’s an awful lot of money, lad,” said Finken.
“But what are you saying? I wouldn’t take money in advance from my customers.”
“The truth is, it’s a very tempting offer, Klaus. It would mean a big saving for the estate,” said the administrator.
“You see?” Paul was delighted. “All you have to do is offer the same to six other customers. They’ll all accept, sir. I’ve noticed that people trust you.”
“That’s true, Klaus.”
For a moment the coal man’s chest inflated like a turkey’s, but the complaints soon followed.
“But if we reduce the margins,” said the coal man, not yet seeing it all clearly, “what will I live on?”
“With a second cart you’ll work twice as fast. You’ll make your money back in no time. And there will be two carts with your name painted on them going through Munich.”
“Two carts with my name…”
“Of course, it’ll be a bit tight to begin with. After all, you’ll have one more salary to pay.”
The coal man looked at the administrator, who smiled.
“For God’s sake, hire this boy or I’ll hire him myself. He has quite a business head on him.”
Paul went around with Klaus for the rest of the day, speaking to the estate administrators. Of the first ten, seven accepted, and only four insisted on a written guarantee.
“It seems you’ve got your cart, Herr Graf.”
“Now we’re going to have a hell of a lot of work. And you’ll need to find new customers.”
“I’d thought that you…”
“No way, kid. You get along with people, though you’re a little shy, like my dear old aunt Irmuska. I think you’ll be good at it.”
The lad remained silent a few moments, contemplating the day’s successes, then addressed the coal man again.
