N EXT DAY she was gone. I came at the usual time and rang the bell. I looked through the door, everything looked the way it always did, I could hear the clock ticking.
I sat down on the stairs once again. During our first few months, I had always known what line she was working on, even though I had never repeated my attempt to accompany her or even pick her up afterwards. At some point I had stopped asking, stopped even wondering. It hadn’t even occurred to me until now.
I used the telephone booth at the Wilhelmsplatz to call the streetcar company, was transferred from one person to the next, and finally was told that Hanna Schmitz had not come to work. I went back to Bahnhofstrasse, asked at the carpenter’s shop in the yard for the name of the owner of the building, and got a name and address in Kirchheim. I rode over there.
“Frau Schmitz? She moved out this morning.”
“And her furniture?”
“It’s not her furniture.”
“How long did she live in the apartment?”
“What’s it to you?” The woman who had been talking to me through a window in the door slammed it shut.
In the administration building of the streetcar company, I talked my way through to the personnel department. The man in charge was friendly and concerned.
“She called this morning early enough for us to arrange for a substitute, and said that she wouldn’t be coming back, period.” He shook his head. “Two weeks ago she was sitting there in your chair and I offered to have her trained as a driver, and she throws it all away.”
It took me some days to think of going to the citizens’ registration office. She had informed them she was moving to Hamburg, but without giving an address.
The days went by and I felt sick. I took pains to make sure my parents and my brothers and sisters noticed nothing. I joined in the conversation at table a little, ate a little, and when I had to throw up, I managed to make it to the toilet. I went to school and to the swimming pool. I spent my afternoons there in an out-of-the-way place where no one would look for me. My body yearned for Hanna. But even worse than my physical desire was my sense of guilt. Why hadn’t I jumped up immediately when she stood there and run to her! This one moment summed up all my halfheartedness of the past months, which had produced my denial of her, and my betrayal. Leaving was her punishment.
Sometimes I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t her I had seen. How could I be sure it was her when I hadn’t been able to make out the face? If it had been her, wouldn’t I have had to recognize her face? So couldn’t I be sure it wasn’t her at all?
But I knew it was her. She stood and looked—and it was too late.
第二天她不在了。和往常的時間一樣我去了她那里，按響了門鈴。透過房門我看到一切依舊，聽得見掛鐘在滴答滴答地響。
我又坐在了樓梯臺階上。在初的幾個月里，我一直知道她在哪條路段工作，盡管我不再設(shè)法去陪伴她，也不再想方設(shè)法去接她。不知從什么時候起，我不再問起此事，對此不再感興趣了?，F(xiàn)在，我又想到這事。
在威廉廣場的電話廳里，我給有軌電車公司打了電話。電話被轉(zhuǎn)來轉(zhuǎn)去，后得知漢娜·史密芝沒有去上班。我又回到了火車站街，在院子里的木工廠那兒打聽到那座房子為誰所有。我得到了一個名字和地址。這樣我就去了基西海姆。
"史密芝女士？她今天早上搬了出去。"
"那她的家具呢？"
"那不是她的家具。"
"她是從什么時候起住在那個房子里的？"
"這與您有什么關(guān)系呢？"那個透過門窗跟我說話的女人把窗戶關(guān)上了。
在有軌電車公司的辦公大樓里，我到處打聽人事部。有關(guān)的一位負(fù)責(zé)人很友好，也很擔(dān)憂。
"她今天早上打來電話，很及時，使我們有可能安排別人來代替。她說她不再來了，徹底地不來了。"他搖著頭說，"十四天前，她坐在您現(xiàn)在的位子上，我給她提供了受培訓(xùn)當(dāng)司機(jī)的機(jī)會，可她放棄了一切。"
幾天以后，我才想起來去居民登記局。她注銷了戶籍去了漢堡，可沒有留下地址。
我難受了許多天，注意著不讓父母和兄弟姐妹看出來。在飯桌上，我參與他們的談話，吃少許的東西，如果非要嘔吐不可，也能忍看到了洗手間才吐出來。我去上學(xué)，去游泳池。在游泳池一個無人找得到的偏僻的角落里把下午的時間打發(fā)掉。我的肉體思念著漢娜，但是，比這種肉體的思念更嚴(yán)重的是我的負(fù)疚感。當(dāng)她站在那兒時，我為什么沒有立即跳起來向她跑過去！這件小事使我聯(lián)想起了我在過去的幾個月里對她的半心半意，由于這種半心半意，我否認(rèn)了她，背叛了她。她的離去是對我的懲罰。
有時候，我企圖這樣開脫自己，說我看見的那個人不是她。我怎么能確信就是她呢？當(dāng)時我的確沒有看清楚她的臉。如果真的是她，難道我連她都認(rèn)不出來嗎？我真的不能確定那個人是不是她。
但是，我知道那個人就是她。她站在那兒，望著我。一切都晚了
I sat down on the stairs once again. During our first few months, I had always known what line she was working on, even though I had never repeated my attempt to accompany her or even pick her up afterwards. At some point I had stopped asking, stopped even wondering. It hadn’t even occurred to me until now.
I used the telephone booth at the Wilhelmsplatz to call the streetcar company, was transferred from one person to the next, and finally was told that Hanna Schmitz had not come to work. I went back to Bahnhofstrasse, asked at the carpenter’s shop in the yard for the name of the owner of the building, and got a name and address in Kirchheim. I rode over there.
“Frau Schmitz? She moved out this morning.”
“And her furniture?”
“It’s not her furniture.”
“How long did she live in the apartment?”
“What’s it to you?” The woman who had been talking to me through a window in the door slammed it shut.
In the administration building of the streetcar company, I talked my way through to the personnel department. The man in charge was friendly and concerned.
“She called this morning early enough for us to arrange for a substitute, and said that she wouldn’t be coming back, period.” He shook his head. “Two weeks ago she was sitting there in your chair and I offered to have her trained as a driver, and she throws it all away.”
It took me some days to think of going to the citizens’ registration office. She had informed them she was moving to Hamburg, but without giving an address.
The days went by and I felt sick. I took pains to make sure my parents and my brothers and sisters noticed nothing. I joined in the conversation at table a little, ate a little, and when I had to throw up, I managed to make it to the toilet. I went to school and to the swimming pool. I spent my afternoons there in an out-of-the-way place where no one would look for me. My body yearned for Hanna. But even worse than my physical desire was my sense of guilt. Why hadn’t I jumped up immediately when she stood there and run to her! This one moment summed up all my halfheartedness of the past months, which had produced my denial of her, and my betrayal. Leaving was her punishment.
Sometimes I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t her I had seen. How could I be sure it was her when I hadn’t been able to make out the face? If it had been her, wouldn’t I have had to recognize her face? So couldn’t I be sure it wasn’t her at all?
But I knew it was her. She stood and looked—and it was too late.
第二天她不在了。和往常的時間一樣我去了她那里，按響了門鈴。透過房門我看到一切依舊，聽得見掛鐘在滴答滴答地響。
我又坐在了樓梯臺階上。在初的幾個月里，我一直知道她在哪條路段工作，盡管我不再設(shè)法去陪伴她，也不再想方設(shè)法去接她。不知從什么時候起，我不再問起此事，對此不再感興趣了?，F(xiàn)在，我又想到這事。
在威廉廣場的電話廳里，我給有軌電車公司打了電話。電話被轉(zhuǎn)來轉(zhuǎn)去，后得知漢娜·史密芝沒有去上班。我又回到了火車站街，在院子里的木工廠那兒打聽到那座房子為誰所有。我得到了一個名字和地址。這樣我就去了基西海姆。
"史密芝女士？她今天早上搬了出去。"
"那她的家具呢？"
"那不是她的家具。"
"她是從什么時候起住在那個房子里的？"
"這與您有什么關(guān)系呢？"那個透過門窗跟我說話的女人把窗戶關(guān)上了。
在有軌電車公司的辦公大樓里，我到處打聽人事部。有關(guān)的一位負(fù)責(zé)人很友好，也很擔(dān)憂。
"她今天早上打來電話，很及時，使我們有可能安排別人來代替。她說她不再來了，徹底地不來了。"他搖著頭說，"十四天前，她坐在您現(xiàn)在的位子上，我給她提供了受培訓(xùn)當(dāng)司機(jī)的機(jī)會，可她放棄了一切。"
幾天以后，我才想起來去居民登記局。她注銷了戶籍去了漢堡，可沒有留下地址。
我難受了許多天，注意著不讓父母和兄弟姐妹看出來。在飯桌上，我參與他們的談話，吃少許的東西，如果非要嘔吐不可，也能忍看到了洗手間才吐出來。我去上學(xué)，去游泳池。在游泳池一個無人找得到的偏僻的角落里把下午的時間打發(fā)掉。我的肉體思念著漢娜，但是，比這種肉體的思念更嚴(yán)重的是我的負(fù)疚感。當(dāng)她站在那兒時，我為什么沒有立即跳起來向她跑過去！這件小事使我聯(lián)想起了我在過去的幾個月里對她的半心半意，由于這種半心半意，我否認(rèn)了她，背叛了她。她的離去是對我的懲罰。
有時候，我企圖這樣開脫自己，說我看見的那個人不是她。我怎么能確信就是她呢？當(dāng)時我的確沒有看清楚她的臉。如果真的是她，難道我連她都認(rèn)不出來嗎？我真的不能確定那個人是不是她。
但是，我知道那個人就是她。她站在那兒，望著我。一切都晚了