The Waiter (a story)

Megged, Matti

THE WAITER A STORY BY MATTI MEGGED "Dear Sir, You certainly won't remember me, but we've met, a few years ago, several times. In Prague. At the Zionist club, and, if I'm not mistaken, also in...

...He probably did not tell me the whole story at our first meeting, and only later on I learned the rest of it...
...Indeed, he was quite content, waiting so...
...Even when he'd entered the so-called theater—a big tent with some rough boards for the stage and some orange-boxes serving as seats—he'd not known yet what he was going to see...
...They were real, to him...
...I remained in Palestine, and several years later I started to read Kafka's books...
...Whether he did recognize me then or not, he didn't compromise himself...
...Only on Saturdays was there a piece of boiled chicken and a few dates, as dessert...
...And right he was, to accuse me, to scold me: Here I was, a healthy man, in the prime of his life, who came to Palestine in the name of a lofty ideal...
...But what exactly did he tell the old man?—The only word that was uttered clearly, time and agajn, was the word good, insisting that he only meant to be or to do good...
...Sincerely, Franz K. P.S...
...One of the choir, then—or was it the old man himself—rebuked him, and told him he was not entitled to sing, since his singing did not spout from a pure source...
...Glad to find a man to pour out my heart to...
...How inept, awkward, worse than amateurish, were the actors themselves...
...And what have I done all this time?— Pondering about returning to Europe, or about canying on my life as a European scholar, in a place that did not need it at all...
...But I need advice from someone who knows the place and is familiar with its life conditions...
...But the menu was blank and he did not dare to ask what the old man wished to eat...
...Some of them even in Hebrew translation...
...Descended...
...It is true that he was stopped at the Czech border and detained for a whole day and night at the police station there...
...It was too humiliating, too painful...
...But never did any of them mention the fact, or try to talk with him about it...
...And then, suddenly, tired and hungry after long hours of purposeless wandering, I noticed the name "Palatin," hotel and restaurant "Palatin," at the corner of the Rothschild Boulevard (another imitation of a Parisian boulevard, without its royal width and lofty trees...
...I can't even tell what kept me here...
...And being real—something he'd never known before—made them good too...
...Luckily, no one of these clerks or fellow travellers had known who he was...
...Pedantically arranged silver on each table...
...Probably pride...
...The only one of all my friends and acquaintances in Prague who did come to Palestine was Hugo Bergman, the philosopher, and he too was squandering his time and talents, dreaming about a university in Jerusalem while trying to make his living by writing articles for the local weekly...
...Chandeliers with burning candles, although it was noontime...
...But failed, time and again...
...And I was glad to talk, rapidly...
...Everything seemed so bizarre, so different from what he'd imagined...
...When I returned to Jerusalem, Professor Bergman told me he'd just heard that the Jewish-Czech-German writer Franz Kafka, his youthful friend, had died in a sanatorium near Vienna, on June 3rd, 1924, and was buried in the old Jewish cemetery in Prague...
...But one day, to his amazement and distress, he was invited to watch the theatrical group of the kibbutz performing one of his own stories...
...Or since they seemed to have access to some elementary secret of life, that was always hidden from him...
...In another country, another era...
...It seemed as if all of them had vowed to cut off all links with their past, especially if it was connected with the domain of books...
...His face was severe, almost indignant, as if proclaiming that actually he did not belong here at all...
...The members of the kibbutz, most of them much younger than he, were strangers, needless to say...
...And his own work too...
...Lost...
...Neither among the old, battered ones, whose faces were engraved by despair, nor among the younger ones, who still nursed some hopes, but wise they were not...
...Privacy (which was never protected), and what not...
...I never answered that letter...
...Always dirty and noisy...
...And here comes a stranger, a certain Franz K., and asks for advice...
...Or at least it was meant to look luxurious...
...His physician forbade him even to think about such a crazy endeavor...
...He did not even know the route he had to take...
...And the old man bade him to fly down and to bring him the dishes that were marked on the menu...
...I've not read the book, if ever there was one...
...Alone, all by himself, he managed to steal out of the pension, to avert the surveillance of his doctor and nurse and to reach the railroad station at Berlin...
...Oh, no...
...Dreams!—I have ceased to dream...
...Destroyed the new world he believed he'd started to build on the shore of Lake Kinneret, in Eretz Israel...
...High above, there sat an old man, dressed in a velvet robe, adorned with golden and purple lace...
...Cursed this land and its people, called myself a hopeless fool, a blind dreamer, a resentful victim of his own naivete, who deserved all misfortunes...
...The amount of Hebrew words he'd had to learn, in order to serve the diners, was not too much for him...
...Toil the land indeed!—Even those strong, healthy youngsters from the Crimea cannot make their living from toiling the land...
...He responded immediately, as if anticipating or expecting my invitation...
...Just listened, nodding his head—I could not tell whether it was a token of agreement, or of compassion, or contempt—and let me finish my tirade, without uttering a word...
...Just scolded him—as if he'd used words that were obscene or sinful...
...He was definitely a stranger...
...When he came to my table, he started setting my meal, without waiting for my order...
...But this also belonged to the distant past...
...Especially at night, in the tent, which he shared with five others...
...He said he was willing to become a farmer...
...Persian rugs...
...He was clearly not accustomed to this kind of work...
...I recalled indeed the meetings in the Zionist club and in cafg "Savoy," and remembered some of the people I'd met there...
...Exactly as in Vienna, or Czernovitz, or Prague...
...What a lousy job was done by the fellow who'd adapted his story for the stage...
...And all this time, on the train, in the police stations, in the immigration offices, and later on too, on board the ship, he had this strange feeling, as if all these things had already happened to him, long ago, in his stories...
...And he was carrying the trays—made of silver and gold—on his wings...
...I cannot recall any Franz K. among my Prague acquaintances...
...And if not actually seen and smelled, he felt as if he'd already written or at least planned to write about it...
...Once, indeed, a long time ago, he did love the theater and frequented it quite often...
...But what did he mean by good?— Anyhow, the old man did not seem to listen...
...There sat an old man, dressed in an elegant European heavy suit, totally unsuitable to the weather...
...They used to talk the whole night...
...Later on I was told that he too was a writer, had published some stories or essays...
...He tried to ignore them and continue his work, but instead of walking from one table to another, he started flying...
...Recognize is probably not the appropriate word...
...But everything seemed again so distanced, so different from what he'd written or planned to write...
...Always arguing about one issue or another...
...Its owners obviously intended to transfer to lei Aviv an exemplary model of a luxurious hotel from Vienna or Czernovitz...
...Impatiently, then, I waited until he finished his work...
...They were singing some song, but their singing too sounded heavy and black...
...such perfectly constructed sentences...
...But in a totally reversed way...
...The only ones who survive and stay are either the very strong or the hard-hearted ones...
...Yet he never resented this new life...
...Neither a Czech, nor a German...
...Living the true real life...
...But he did not know in what language he should talk with that old man...
...Thus he was assigned at last to the dining room, as a waiter...
...Yet, he regarded all of them as good...
...Hardly could he talk with them, yet he managed to understand, to make himself understood...
...In one stroke, they shattered all his new life...
...The old man was obviously displeased by something, but the waiter did not show any sign of being offended...
...Dark eyes, like two big mice in a cage...
...D. too, his devoted and beloved companion, who'd shared his dreams about a home in Eretz Israel, insisted that he should wait until he was completely cured...
...Ashamed to admit my failure and disappointment...
...This is why I came to Eretz Israel, after all...
...In vain he tried to solve his predicament...
...God knows on what they put their trust...
...Looked for the truth outside his writing...
...This too was too much for his frail health...
...Dry bread...
...Who needs here a writer...
...Jews...
...It was a dirty game he was playing with himself...
...Not expecting to find such a place here...
...He wanted to tell the old man that he'd only wished to serve him properly, to do only good...
...My home?—No...
...Not really believing he might achieve his goal...
...But when he watched them closely, he discovered that they were wearing the faces of those members of the theater group of the kibbutz he'd left just recently...
...The very next morning...
...Exactly like Hugo Bergman's dreams about a Hebrew university and a national library...
...As if his mere presence, his mere way of doing his job—so calmly, so contentedly—contained some sort of accusation and reproach...
...I ate my meal very slowly, lingering deliberately in order to wait until he finished serving the other guest...
...To say that he did not mind the dirt, the noise, the cold, the smell of sweat that was always present, would be to lie...
...I too could not find a proper job, not being trained or inclined to work on a farm or to pave roads...
...Yet, at the same time, he was himself sitting in his lonely room at evening, waiting for D. to come, or waiting to be summoned by the conductor of the choir to join them...
...Never for a moment did he let his spirits sink...
...Professor Bergman had been appointed librarian of the new National Library, and asked me to be his chief assistant...
...He tried to join them, but could not utter a tone...
...Yet he did talk with him fluently, even eloquently...
...The first encounters with the Orient, first in Jaffa and then on the train to Zemach, were shocking, frightening...
...The old man did not bother to explain what was his fault or sin...
...I was not at all surprised to see him here, as if it were the most natural thing in the world...
...What I really wanted to do was to provoke him, waiting for the opportunity to tell him what a fool he was, to come to this dreary province...
...He, who had always preferred to be alone, secluded, could not of course feel comfortable in this permanent proximity of other people, noisy, talkative...
...Yet he managed to carry on, without failing...
...Such beautifully adorned words...
...He had no problem finding the Berlin-Trieste train, and boarded it, ignoring his lack of money and documents...
...Exactly as he had seen them in his imagination, or written about...
...I don't think he noticed me, and if he did, he immediately averted his eyes...
...The same was true with this kibbutz he'd settled in...
...Preoccupied with my own survival, I could not care about anybody else's dreams and wishes...
...A cable sent to me by the good Hugo Bergman summoned me to Jerusalem...
...White tablecloths...
...All their ways of life, modes of speaking, were alien to him...
...Never tried to judge people, or to make a distinction between good people and evil ones...
...With myself...
...What can a person like me do in Palestine?—My wish is to find some quiet place, in the country, if possible, and to devote myself to farming...
...Sitting at one of the tables, I looked first at the menu, and since it did not tell me what to expect, I was waiting for the waiter...
...In some basic, rudimentary sense, they were good...
...He'd admitted of course that A. was dumb and a miser, while B. was generous and intelligent...
...It was rather, he admitted, with a sad, self-mocking smile, as if he'd intended to play the role of one of his own characters, who were foredoomed never to reach their goal...
...At last, he said...
...Besides, it enabled me to re-enter my own world, the world of books, of learning...
...Only his eyes, I noticed, were rather detached...
...A holy city without a holy spirit...
...Or, rather, when he did utter some tone, it was absolutely false...
...It was, then, the first time in his life that he was facing the truth...
...A strange desire to humiliate this waiter, to treat him cruelly...
...Watery soup...
...But he did not listen to their sound arguments...
...Yet here, in the kibbutz, he found himself, to his own amazement, using exactly this very term whenever he thought about his new companions...
...At the Zionist club, and, if I'm not mistaken, also in caf6 'Savoy.' Max Brod told me that you've immigrated to Palestine and have settled there...
...I've never done any manual work and I wonder if I'm capable of starting it now, at my age and in my condition...
...Plant trees...
...When I entered the restaurant, I saw him immediately, trying to do his job as usual...
...He'd seen before bad plays, bad scripts, bad acting, in his youth, in Prague...
...If he is the man who asked my advice, I certainly cannot help him...
...After a short while I literally forgot all about it...
...If necessary, I'm ready even to become a waiter...
...Free Love...
...And even had I tried, I wouldn't be able to find it here, in this Asiatic God-forsaken province, where there is no decent European bookstore or library...
...And I certainly won't be the one who'll advise him to come and ruin his life...
...Rumors say that many of them commit suicide...
...Only then he started telling me his story...
...He really wanted to come back down to earth and join her...
...When the waiter approached my table, I recognized him immediately...
...I simply longed for some breeze of Europe, as if expecting it to come from the sea...
...I was able to follow him uninterruptedly, since he was obviously concentrating on his work...
...If the addresser of the letter is the same young, fragile writer, he won't have any chance to survive...
...Without even a smithereen of what I considered culture...
...A lean, tall man, slightly stooping...
...But he did not receive any answer...
...At first, he insisted on working in the field, craving to plant trees...
...The rest of the tables were unoccupied, except for one...
...On the contrary, while being detained, he'd had time to look around, to watch the scores of immigrants, most of them Jews, who shared his predicament...
...Not even those who claimed to be devoted Zionists...
...He'd never used this term before...
...Probably, since he felt that they knew something that he'd never learned...
...And their wings were black and seemed very heavy...
...What could a writer or a scholar do in Palestine...
...Only on his face I noticed—or imagined I noticed—a vague beginning of a smile...
...I entered the house, without hestitating...
...Many of the Zionist clerks looked at him suspiciously, not grasping why a person like him would wish to go to Palestine...
...And thus he continued hovering, carrying his trays, without being able to approach the furious old man, yet without daring to descend back to earth...
...Without any other hopes or expectations...
...And even more so, when he reached his goal and came to a small kibbutz, on the shore of Lake Kinneret...
...The dining room itself was a small shabby hut, with a tin roof, very cold in winter and very hot in summer...
...The spirit of Europe...
...Humiliated...
...Abandoned all hopes...
...But I was afraid lest he would recognize me, as the man who ignored his urgent request for advice...
...And the tables themselves were not fixed to the floor, but also hovering in the hollow of a huge space (looking like a cathedral...
...And the moment he did, I asked him to join me at my table, hardly restraining my desire to pour out whatever I felt towards him...
...Good...
...Even Max Brod himself remained in Prague...
...But after a short while, he discovered—or, rather, the kibbutz members did—that he was not fit for such hard work...
...At the end of the performance—he did not dare to leave in the middle—he felt as if he were dragged, like his country doctor, by two old and desolate horses of illusion, away from his new home, to endless wanderings...
...He knew it could not be German, nor Hebrew...
...What would a person like him do in Palestine...
...I knew I was craving for something that I would never be able to find there...
...I could not stay in Tel Aviv, to hear the rest of K. 's story...
...Somehow he'd known all the time that everything would fall into place...
...Yet I continued strolling in the streets of Tel Aviv, among those hybrids of Oriental and European derivations...
...He himself was surprised to hear such a beautiful language spouting out of his mouth...
...Both of us, it seems, are afraid to tell each other what we really feel and think about our new home...
...The so-called menu contained the same meager items, day in, day out: half an egg, mornings and evenings...
...And each time he was told that there was no way he could go to Palestine without the proper documents...
...And he knew she was right...
...Even in my Prague, that I loved so...
...The barren land, that had only started to grow some green bushes and trees, that he'd never seen before...
...Or was it really?—Time and again he felt that he'd already seen, smelled, sensed this Orient, its landscape, its houses, its people...
...Even to help them...
...Raise a family...
...Forever...
...The solemn visage of the old man, adorned with a long white beard, was indignant, and he could not expect him to answer his questions...
...But go there I must...
...There too I was an unaccepted proselyte...
...He could not deny that at first he felt like a total stranger, even an imposter...
...It is true that, when he'd served the old man next to me, he seemed rather intimidated...
...At the beginning it was only I who talked, while he just listened attentively, as if encouraging me to go on...
...Truth was here, in these real happenings, not there, in his stories...
...The very kibbutz he intended to settle in, and wait for D. to come and join him...
...If only I could find at least one person, one friend, to unburden my heart to!—And I did try...
...To build there his, their, real, permanent home...
...I've learned a little Hebrew and I hope it will be sufficient for serving the clients...
...And found out that I was an alien here too...
...I try to avoid him, as much as possible...
...Maybe a book too...
...He finally had made up his mind to go to Palestine while staying at a pension in Zelendorf, near Berlin...
...That C. was ignorant and submissive, while D. was learned and domineering...
...Neither had he succeeded in work in the carpentry shop, although he loved this kind of work since childhood...
...Inside too, in the dining room, one could see that everything was done with the same purpose, namely to render it as a European first-class restaurant...
...He did not try to delude himself, to deceive me, to beautify things...
...I never would have been able to find a better job...
...I talked with bitterness and scorn...
...While waiting, I felt a kind of animosity rising in my guts...
...But despite all his efforts and attempts, he could not doit...
...But then, one day, something happened that forced him to leave the kibbutz, to his deep regret...
...But here they tried to bring back to life, as it were, his own story, his own world, from which he tried to escape when he came to this very kibbutz...
...Broiled or fried eggplants...
...He did not say any of the things I've attributed to him...
...Punished and expelled...
...I could find no such friend in Jerusalem...
...For my advice!—But who is that Franz K? No...
...In Trieste too he had encountered some troubles, while trying to board the ship to Palestine...
...Meanwhile, a whole chorus appeared in the air, separating him from the old man...
...Hated...
...A sick person, with no money, no documents...
...Now, I too wish to go there, to Eretz Israel...
...His movements and gestures were awkward and I was afraid that he might drop the dishes or spill the wine or the soup, any minute...
...I cannot, do not want to repeat my long tirade...
...And so on...
...As if staring at some castle in the air...
...But never before had he known it, face-to-face...
...But suddenly, while I was still waiting for him to serve me, I saw that a pair of wings emerged from beneath his armpits...
...Yes, it was apparently faith only that carried him through, he said...
...I'd met him once, or more than once, many years ago...
...He was not so naive as not to notice the difference between one member of the kibbutz and another...
...But I had to go down, to lei Aviv...
...I assume I passed by the same house several times, without noticing it...
...Jerusalem was higher...
...But I certainly was not ready to advise others to follow me...
...In spite of all his efforts, he did not succeed to descend and join D., to approach the old man, nor to join the flying chorus...
...But I was stifled by false promises...
...Had written about it in his diaries...
...It did not really matter how the play was performed...
...Which was once my home...
...But would I be able to do it?—I'm approaching 40, and not exactly healthy...
...Only at nights could I talk...
...Hugo Bergman continues to nurse his dreams about a Hebrew university in Jerusalem, a cultural and spiritual center for the Jewish people...
...In those long hours of insomnia...
...But it is now more than ten years since I frequented these places...
...I was full of apprehension, lest I would not find Franz K. Would he really be able to continue his job as a waiter, all these months...
...I, with my shabby old suit, obviously a pauper, certainly could not be regarded as a proper companion to this old authoritative looking man...
...Not a Jew either...
...But he had never lost faith...
...Calmly he corrected his fault—if it was indeed a fault—and calmly he continued to do his job, as if nothing had happened...
...Although Lwas rather hungry, I could not take my eyes off him...
...The letter perplexed me...
...A faked substitute for the Europe I've known and loved...
...When the waiter approached my table, I recognized him immediately...
...The anteroom itself was luxurious...
...New World...
...The hot climate...
...By fake holiness...
...This letter was sent from Zelendorf, near Berlin, and reached me in Jerusalem two weeks after it was written...
...Castles in Spain...
...Do you think it might be possible for us to open our own restaurant?—This, of course, I'll consider as the last resort...
...But he doubted whether it would make any difference, had they known...
...I would be very grateful to you, dear sir, if you'll answer me soon and tell me what you think about my plan...
...Or, rather, to counterattack, take vengeance for his complacence...
...I knew only a numb emptiness, the dull void of language...
...And here he was at last...
...Most of the time I was mute...
...Yet I knew immediately who he was...
...He had to run, then, time and again, to the offices of the Jewish Immigration Agency, then to the British consul, and so on and so forth...
...How, then, to describe his shock, his pain, his despair, when he saw his companions playing his own story, which was so remote from this new reality he believed he'd found in the kibbutz...
...No one told him about it, until the very evening of the performance...
...But I knew I must answer him, defend myself...
...I too still use this word...
...But he was not provoked...
...To toil the land...
...Her air, her sky, her stones...
...He'd known it before...
...Otherwise, he was totally absorbed in his work...
...More than one told him frankly and bluntly, talking as a friend who wished him well, that he should better return to his home, that there was nothing he could do in Eretz Israel...
...And thus he continued to do his job, as flying waiter, neither here nor there...
...He flew up, to serve this dignitary, but each time he approached him, the old man scolded him, saying that it was not the kind of food he was expecting...
...He found out that some members of the kibbutz knew who he was...
...Sufficient it will be to say that I talked about the loathsome fate of a person thrown among barbarians, about his loneliness and disappointment...
...Alive...
...I do remember, vaguely, a young man, lean, tall, dark-eyed, who used to come to Savoy...
...I could not refuse...
...Communist Russia...
...My companion, Miss D., is an excellent cook...
...A few of them had even read some of his stories...
...And on the trays he carried crystal bottles of wine, and some golden fish, of all sorts and sizes...
...But he felt assured that everything would come out appropriately...
...He went there because he did not want to be considered an outsider, not because he was keen to be in a theater...
...I require very little and will be satisfied with a small salary...
...And so he was...
...And so, one day, I descended to lei Aviv...
...But is there any caf6 or restaurant in Palestine that would need my service...
...Every movement, every gesture, was finical, precise...
...There was even a bottle of wine on each table...
...And I can hardly blame them...
...Revolution...
...In misery and pain he'd asked what he should do, in order to purge himself...
...Living in their ragged tents and starving...
...I plunged into my new job, and it took me several months of hard, exhausting work, until I could allow myself a break and go to lei Aviv...
...At first they looked like angels, adorned with wings...
...His own people, albeit so strange, so different...
...My own heart was a barren rock...
...Warning him that he might fall...
...Matti Megged is an Israeli writer...
...Flowers...
...He never felt a need to participate in these conversations...
...But I resented this false cure of my muteness...
...While flying thus in the void, he suddenly saw D., his devoted and beloved companion—but how did she manage to come here?—standing there, down below, and calling him to descend, imploring him to come back down to earth to her...
...Immediately after the war I immigrated to Palestine and cut off all connections with my old friends in Prague, none of whom chose to come here...
...The whole endeavor was not easy for him...
...Not that Tel Aviv itself could remind me of Europe...
...I probably still loved Jerusalem, still clung to her...
...Nor his companions...
...Without money, almost, and without a passport or a visa...

Vol. 8 • July 1984 • No. 7


 
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