Until the Dawn's Light_ A Novel - Aharon Appelfeld [66]
Ernst Schimmer was her great competitor in elementary school and later in high school. He, too, excelled in mathematics and Latin, but he had some sort of inhibition that blocked him and overshadowed his obvious talent. All of his excellent grades always had an annoying “minus” attached to them. The mathematics and Latin teachers liked him and encouraged him, and there were days when he displayed wonders at the blackboard, but then that hidden flaw would appear and spoil the effect. Blanca didn’t like Ernst and ignored him. From an early age a bitterness showed itself on his lips, the sign of a person dissatisfied with himself. He suffered in class, especially from Adolf. Adolf used to call him a Jewish slug.
Blanca overcame her muteness. “How are you, Ernst?”
“I came to visit my hometown.”
“And where do you live now?”
“In Salzburg.”
Fortune had not smiled upon Ernst, either, it seemed. He had studied at the university for a year, but his parents couldn’t afford to support him, and he was forced to go out and work. He worked in a children’s clothing store in Heimland for a year, but then both of his parents died and he moved to Salzburg. There he was a cashier in a department store. Blanca looked at him and said, “You haven’t changed.”
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I live and breathe.” The voice of past days returned to her.
“May I join you for a cup of coffee?” Ernst said, sitting down beside her.
No, Ernst hadn’t changed. The wrinkles of bitterness had indeed become somewhat deeper, but there was no alteration in his appearance. He spoke as he used to, emphasizing, for some reason, the word “future,” a word his parents had apparently used frequently. His parents had been known in the town as hardworking people whom fortune had not favored.
“You haven’t converted, have you?” Blanca asked.
“No.”
“Like everybody else, I did.”
“My parents didn’t push me into that, and I myself never felt the need to do it.”
“You did right. A person should be loyal to his sentiments,” Blanca said, feeling that those words hadn’t come out of her own mouth.
“Who knows?” he replied, like someone who has already been burned.
After a pause he added, “When we were children, we competed with each other. People used to say, two competitive Jews. You were better, I must admit.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You were more open. Your response to a math problem was spontaneous. You immediately saw the possibilities, and sometimes all the possibilities.”
“But you were more thorough.”
“Maybe. But I was immersed in unnecessary details.”
“Strange, we never talked about it then.” For a moment she wanted to stop the stream of words.
“You were brilliant, and I was sure that I couldn’t catch up with you. Your quickness, your agility, proved to me every day that I was on a lower level.”
It was the same Ernst, with the same inhibitions coming out of hiding. Blanca wanted to contradict him but didn’t know how. Once again muteness seized her.
“I have to go back,” Ernst said, rising to his feet. She even remembered his way of standing up now. The journey from his seat to the blackboard was an obstacle course for him. On the way his momentum would dwindle, and he would reach the blackboard without any strength, immediately declaring, “I was mistaken. I had an idea, but it turned out to be useless. Excuse me.” Because of those apologies, he aroused mockery. In her heart, even Blanca was contemptuous of that weakness of his.
“How long were you here for?” Once again she overcame her muteness.
“Just a few hours. I felt a kind of urge to come, so I did. I took a walk around all the familiar places, but I didn’t meet anyone I knew. You’re the only one. I didn’t want to go inside the high school. That wasn’t a place that was pleasant for me.”
“And how was your parents’ house?”
“Still standing. I sold it very cheaply at the time.”
“Ernst, forgive me.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t know how to appreciate your abilities, and that greatly troubles me. In many areas, you were better than I was.”
“You’re mistaken.