Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

Russians, and you have a German husband. I am an uneducated man from Gumbinnen, but I
get around a lot. I see the rich people from Berlin and the aloof Russian aristocrats on my train
and get scared. They don’t know where they are going and don’t seem to care. I feel a terrible
war is coming. We have a clairvoyante woman, eine hellseherische Frau, in my village who on
New Year’s Eve prophesied blood raining from heaven and pestilence and murder. You are a
clairvoyante too, what do you see?"
Alexandra sighed and thought. My vision does not go away. I don’t want to be a
clairvoyant. I don’t need to know the future. I want to keep my freedom to act every day, at
every moment. I don’t want to stare like Persephone and Mother paralyzed by precognition at
the future.
She knew she was lying to the man. "I really cannot see the future."
They arrived in Berlin in the early morning hours, still raining, a thin, steady drizzle. The
farmers will be happy, she thought, but the city looked drab and uninviting. She would have to
spend the whole day in Berlin to catch the direct train to Munich at night.
She went to the station restaurant, a dark place smelling of stale cigarette smoke and
the metallic odor of locomotives and hot brakes. She ordered a substantial Mittagessen and
looked around. The place was depressing. Memories of the evening with Konrad at the
Cabaret returned, the smug, well-fed burghers, the nude dancing girls, the shallow, dubious
ditties they had sung. Strange, she thought, despite Konrad I don’t like Berlin
When a family of five under the stern, paternal supervision of a man in uniform settled at
the next table and ordered beer and Schweinebraten, she knew she would not be able to sit in
this place until evening. She paid, collected her belongings, and went to the information desk in
search of another, earlier connection.
The officious clerk offered her a train to Hanover, where she could catch the express
from Hamburg to Munich, an hour longer ride. For a small amount of additional money she fled
the town.
Her connection in Hanover arrived after less than twenty minutes of waiting. She walked
along the train’s corridor in search of a seat. Looking through the sliding doors of the
compartments she had detected a convenient window seat. A young woman sat on the
opposite bench. She started. What was going on today? She looked again—Clara Westhoff
was sitting there.
Alexandra took a deep breath, and carefully opened the sliding-door. With a smile she
asked, "Is this seat still available?"
Clara looked up and very uncharacteristically screamed, "Alexandra, mein Gott, where
do you come from?"
Alexandra sank into the strong arms of her friend.
"I am being pursued by apparitions, but your embrace feels real. It is good to find you. I
fled Berlin. I am going to Munich, and you?"
"I too, after spending the winter in Worpswede, I am going to Berg for the summer. Sit
down, you look tired. Do you come directly from St. Petersburg?"
"Is Ruth with you?"
Clara’s eyes laughed. "Yes, she is almost a big girl now. She went on a tour of the train
by herself."
Slowly the first shock of their unexpected meeting gave way to the pleasure of
323