In Times of Fading Light

“No, Wilhelm, that is definitely not going in the raffle.”

Hadn’t he read the article? Or had he simply overlooked her name?

Lisbeth came at ten. As usual, she asked all questions five times, even those that had already been answered… No, Lisbeth, I don’t want you using the vacuum cleaner while I’m in the house… yes, this is the day to do the laundry… yes, lunch at one.

“Do you happen to read Neues Deutschland, Lisbeth?”

“I already take the Markische Volksstimme.” The local paper.

“Oh, well, the Markische Volksstimme.”

But Lisbeth was too naive anyway. She might just as well read the Markische Volksstimme.

Wilhelm was back again, holding the white china eagle that the previous owner of the house had left behind when he ran for it.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Who’s going to buy a thing like that?”

“Not buy it! Don’t you know what a raffle is?”

Lisbeth asked, “Frau Powileit, should I make creamed potatoes or potato puree?”

Charlotte counted up to five, to keep herself from shouting at Lisbeth, then she said, “Lisbeth, I couldn’t care less.”

Kurt rang the doorbell at three, punctual as ever. Charlotte had taken a nap after lunch, and was now wearing her gray skirt suit and, in honor of the day, a discreet Mexican necklace.

Alexander was waiting beside the car, and so was Irina—brightly made up like a parrot, but that was her business, of course.

“Darling,” said Charlotte to Irina. “My little sparrow,” she said to Alexander. To Kurt she just said, “Kurt.”

The car was blue and tiny, a Trabant. First they admired it from all sides. Wilhelm came out of the house, too.

“Not a word to Wilhelm,” Charlotte whispered to Kurt.

Naturally, Wilhelm didn’t know that she had lent Kurt five thousand marks for the car. To Wilhelm, she said, “Coming for a drive with us?”

“Certainly not,” said Wilhelm. “I don’t have time for that sort of thing.”

“There are only four seats in the car anyway,” said Kurt.

Alexander said, “My suit’s all scratchy.”

Wilhelm tapped the Duroplast bodywork and informed everyone, “All cars will be made of plastic in future.”

“How do I get into the back?” asked Charlotte.

The car had only two doors.

“You can sit in front,” said Kurt.

But Charlotte protested (not least for reasons of safety; after all, Kurt was a beginner), and Kurt folded a seat forward so that Charlotte could get into the back of the tiny vehicle, although on all fours. Funny idea, saving on the doors.

What surprised her most was that Kurt sat down in the passenger seat, while Irina got behind the wheel.

“Who’s driving, then?”

They both turned in surprise. “I’m driving,” said Irina.

The meaning was obvious, even though Irina still spoke with a heavy Russian accent after five years in Germany. Enough to make you wonder how she had passed the driving test.

“My suit’s all scratchy,” said Alexander.

It was the suit that Charlotte had given him for Christmas.

“How can your suit be scratchy?” asked Charlotte.

“It scratches my throat,” said Alexander.

“But your shirt is next to your throat,” Charlotte objected.

“It’s scratchy all the same.”

“Right,” said Irina, “then we’ll drive home first and you can change into something else.”

Rather annoying to see the child being pampered like that. An intelligent, communicative boy, but the way he was being brought up you could tell he’d come to no good.

“When I was your age,” Charlotte began, and was about to tell Alexander about the scratchy white woolen dress that she always had to wear when her mother took her to the Tiergarten park on Sunday, but at that moment the engine started and the whole car rattled like a coffee mill.

Irina stopped at the Fuchsbau house, which was surrounded by scaffolding. Kurt had also borrowed a considerable sum from Charlotte for the renovation work.

“Then the car is really more for Irina than you?” inquired Charlotte, after Irina and Alexander had gone indoors.

“Mutti, I can’t drive a car, you know I have vision in only one eye.” Charlotte did not reply. In fact she hadn’t thought of that. On the other hand, what did Irina need a car for?

“And I’ll pay the money back,” said Kurt. “I’ll be paying you two hundred marks a month, three hundred when I get my raise.”

“So that’s what it boils down to,” said Charlotte, and managed, just managed to stop herself adding: You pay and Irina drives the car.

All the same, Kurt said, “Mutti, I don’t know why you’re being so hostile.”

“I’m not being hostile.”

“I think,” said Kurt, “we ought to take the fact that we’re living in separate houses as the moment to open a new chapter in our relations.”

“I think so, too,” said Charlotte.

She didn’t want to enlarge on the subject. It hurt her that Kurt was so unjust about this. As if it were her fault! She had been trying to improve relations for some time, and it wounded her to think that Kurt didn’t even notice. She never allowed herself to say a critical word about Irina, about her airs and graces, her love of extravagance; on the contrary, she provided money for Irina’s house-renovation project, although to be honest she thought it was excessive in every way. And now Irina needed a car as well… but what had she achieved? Zero. Kurt worked like a Trojan, Kurt had gained his doctorate, had written his first book, a fine book—while Irina still hadn’t finished her training as an archivist. And how could she, when she didn’t even speak German properly?

Charlotte said none of these things. Instead, she asked, “Have you read the ND? ”

“Yes,” said Kurt. “I saw your article.”

Then Irina and Alexander got back into the car, Alexander in a sweater, and Charlotte tried again. “When I was your age…”

And off went the coffee mill once more, a curious thing, this car, in which you couldn’t even have a conversation. In the rear seat you were thrown back and forth. Moreover, Irina drove alarmingly fast, thundering through the intersections without looking right or left.

“Aren’t you supposed to see if anyone else has the right-of-way?” asked Charlotte politely.

No one answered, perhaps they didn’t know which of them she was asking, or they had failed to hear the question over all the noise. Charlotte let the subject drop.

They drove to Sanssouci Park, intending to get out. But Alexander said, “I want to go on driving in the car!”

“We’ll be driving home later,” said Kurt.

But the child was not to be moved: Want to drive in the car!

Irina said, “Well then, let’s go to Cecilienhof.”

“That’s not far enough,” stated Alexander. “You said a tour in the car!”

This was incredible. They actually considered extending the trip to Bornim or Neufahrland. In the end they