Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

subconscious past her observant mind, unpremeditated. She looked at them, took them in, and discarded them for a newimage.Among pictures from the past—Otto on the sleigh ride in the full-moon night, her ride with Dato to Shuamta—all of asudden deeply disturbing images surfaced: the East Prussian landscape appeared covered with corpses floating inblood. She quickly wrenched herself out of this frightening state, but the latent afterimage returned whenever she lookedat the pouring rain."An outgrowth of my hidden fears and anxieties," she told herself.Suddenly the conductor stood before her. "Frau Doktor Dadiani-Rost, may I please see your ticket?"Perplexed, Alexandra looked at the smiling man."Where are your son and husband? Don’t you remember me and the night you took the pregnant woman toGumbinnen?"Now Alexandra recognized the man who had asked her for help seven years ago. It was not possible, was it?"Yes," he said, "I am still traveling the same beat between Eydtkuhnen and Berlin, three times a week. Our meeting is acoincidence. Would you care to join me for a cup of tea? Or do you prefer an excellent Belgian coffee?"Alexandra chose the coffee to revive her spirits and banish her black thoughts.To her own surprise, she did most of the talking—was it because she had talked a whole day only to herself? The thingsthat had accumulated in her mind for weeks just flowed from her. She had tried to keep those events to herself,especially her success in healing people.The man was less surprised than she had expected."Here in Masuria live many wise women who do that, and in Kashubia, through which we will pass this evening, all thewomen seem to have a sixth sense. They are famous, the Kashubian Sibyls." He laughed.But then he looked at her with serious eyes. "Frau Doktor, you are an educated lady. You live in the Russian capital, butyou are not Russian. You are very different from the Russians, and you have a German husband. I am an uneducatedman from Gumbinnen, but I get around a lot. I see the rich people from Berlin and the aloof Russian aristocrats on mytrain and get scared. They don’t know where they are going and don’t seem to care. I feel a terrible war is coming. Wehave a clairvoyante woman, eine hellseherische Frau, in my village who on New Year’s Eve prophesied blood rainingfrom 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 thefuture. I want to keep my freedom to act every day, at every moment. I don’t want to stare like Persephone and Motherparalyzed 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, shethought, but the city looked drab and uninviting. She would have to spend the whole day in Berlin to catch the direct trainto Munich at night.She went to the station restaurant, a dark place smelling of stale cigarette smoke and the metallic odor of locomotivesand hot brakes. She ordered a substantial Mittagessen and looked around. The place was depressing. Memories of theevening with Konrad at the Cabaret returned, the smug, well-fed burghers, the nude dancing girls, the shallow, dubiousditties they had sung. Strange, she thought, despite Konrad I don’t like BerlinWhen a family of five under the stern, paternal supervision of a man in uniform settled at the next table and ordered beerand Schweinebraten, she knew she would not be able to sit in this place until evening. She paid, collected herbelongings, 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 hourlonger 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 insearch of a seat. Looking through the sliding doors of the compartments she had detected a convenient window seat. Ayoung woman sat on the opposite bench. She started. What was going on today? She looked again—Clara Westhoffwas 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 comedirectly 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 rediscovering the old sympathies.Pensive, a shadow passing her features, Clara said. "Rainer is in Ronda, in Andalucia. We are still not divorced and still181