Going to the Dogs by ERICH KÄSTNER

Author:ERICH KÄSTNER [KÄSTNER, ERICH]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2012-11-05T22:00:00+00:00

XII

AN INVENTOR IN THE WARDROBE

NOT TO WORK IS A DISGRACE

HIS MOTHER MAKES A GUEST APPEARANCE

The inventor was up next morning when Fabian went to wake him. Washed and dressed, he was sitting at the table doing calculations.

‘Did you have a good night?’

The old man was in excellent spirits, and shook hands with him. ‘That sofa was born to be slept on,’ he said, and stroked its brown back as though it were that of a horse. ‘Must I go now?’

‘Let me make you a proposal,’ said Fabian. ‘While I’m in my bath the landlady brings in the breakfast, and she mustn’t meet you here or there’ll be a row. As soon as she’s gone you’ll be my welcome guest again. Then you can stay here quietly for an hour or two. I shall have to leave you however, because I must look for work.’

‘That’s all right,’ said the old man. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll take a look at your books. But where am I to go while you bathe?’

‘I thought, in the wardrobe,’ said Fabian. ‘Wardrobes as a habitation have hitherto been the monopoly of comedies of adultery. Let us break with tradition, my honoured guest! Do you agree to my proposal?’

The inventor opened the wardrobe, looked in sceptically, and asked: ‘Are you generally long in the bath?’

Fabian reassured him, pushed his winter overcoat and his only spare suit to one side, and invited his guest to enter. The old gentleman drew his cape round him, put on his hat, stuck the umbrella under his arm and crawled into the wardrobe, which creaked at every joint. ‘And what if she finds me here?’

‘Then I shall move out on the first.’

The inventor leaned on his umbrella and nodded. ‘Now off to your tub,’ he said.

Fabian locked the wardrobe, removed the key as a pre-caution, and called into the corridor: ‘Frau Hohlfeld, breakfast!’ When he reached the bathroom, Cornelia was seated in the bath covered with soap-suds. She laughed. ‘You must rub my back for me,’ she said. ‘I’ve got such awfully short arms.’

‘Cleanliness becomes a pleasure,’ remarked Fabian, and soaped her back. Later she did the same for him. Finally they sat opposite each other in the water and played at making waves. ‘It’s awful,’ he said, ‘the prince of inventors has been standing all this time in my wardrobe waiting to be released. I must hurry.’ They climbed out of the bath and towelled each other till their skin was burning. Then they separated.

‘I shall see you this evening,’ she whispered.

He kissed her. He took leave of her eyes, her mouth and her neck, of every part of her body separately. Then he ran back to his room. Breakfast had arrived. He unlocked the wardrobe. The old gentleman climbed stiffly out, and coughed protractedly to make up for his previous abstinence.

‘Now for the second part of the comedy,’ said Fabian. He went out into the corridor, opened the outer door, slammed it to again, and cried: ‘Uncle! How splendid of you to come and see me.

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