The Sleep of the Righteous by Wolfgang Hilbig

Author:Wolfgang Hilbig [Hilbig, Wolfgang]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Short Stories (Single Author), Fiction
ISBN: 9781931883481
Publisher: Two Lines Press
Published: 2015-10-05T11:00:00+00:00

THE DARK MAN

Best of all I seemed to remember the phone call with which the story began. The voice came from a pub, around ten in the evening, I heard the unmistakable background noises: a babble of voices, laughter, clinking glasses. I was not in the mood for a phone conversation; I was packing my suitcase with the TV on, and my relationship with my wife had reached rock bottom more than a week before. At first I thought it was a wrong number, I even hoped it was.

I’d like to see you, the voice declared, won’t you come over? — It was a deep voice, if not exactly a bass, and might have been described as melodious had it not spoken so execrable a dialect, made still more distasteful by the evident effort to speak High German.

Where am I supposed to come . . . and who wants to see me?

To the pub Zum Doktor, you must know the place. I’ll be waiting for you at the bar.

Who wants to see me, is what I asked. And why, who am I dealing with here?

He didn’t want to tell me on the telephone: Come on, you’ll find everything out soon enough, half an hour might even do the trick . . .

When I said nothing, he grew more insistent: I have to see you, it’s imperative . . . come on, do me a favor!

But I don’t have to do anything . . . what’s the matter, anyway, what’s this all about? — It struck me that he avoided the word “meet,” using only the word “see”; I felt there was impatience in his voice, just a few shades away from a tone of command.

Can’t you tell me what this is about already! If you don’t tell me who I’m dealing with, what the matter is, I won’t come!

That’s a shame . . . that’s a real shame! Nothing’s the matter, I’d like us to have a few beers, it’s on me.

I don’t drink beer, I don’t drink alcohol at all . . .

Oh! Then you’ve changed quite a bit, back then things were very different . . .

This was dragging on and on; at intervals we both fell stubbornly silent. — You won’t tell me who you are . . . what this is about. — I sensed that all my questions were pointless.

If you have a beer with me here at the pub, I’ll tell you.

Would I recognize you? I asked.

No, I should hope not. — Again he hesitated; by now I was shifting from foot to foot.

But it’s sure to interest you, he went on, very much indeed. You are that writer, aren’t you?

Don’t act like you don’t know exactly who you’re dealing with. How about you tell me who I’m dealing with?. . .

You don’t want to see me! he said, not sounding too disappointed, more contemptuous.

No, I can’t, I don’t have time. I’m flying to Dresden tomorrow morning, and I’ve got to get ready.

You really aren’t coming?

No, goddammit .

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.