You don’t think I can work magic, you don’t think that, do you? said the woman, reassuring herself as she came through the doorway and shook hands with Käthe. She looked anxious. Ella was curious; she had never seen a real witch at close quarters before.
We think only the best of you. Käthe led the woman to Thomas’s bedside. Ella draw back the curtains. In full daylight the sales assistant looked even slimmer. Shyly, without any grand gestures, she took off her patterned green headscarf and her fine white gloves. She had delicate, slender fingers, she wore thin tights under her pleated skirt, and she had slightly bandy legs with graceful ankles. Her feet were in flat patent leather shoes. Hesitantly, she unbuttoned her coat, which so far no one had taken from her. Ella saw no warts, no hairy chin, no evidence, however small, that this was the genuine enchantress she had hoped for.
I’m not a witch. The sales assistant looked at Käthe and then back at her patient. Thomas was blinking in the bright light.
You’ve helped other people. Go ahead. Käthe was not just expressing confidence; it sounded more like an order. Without a word of goodbye Käthe left the room; she probably had to go down to the studio where her dancing couple was waiting. She had worked on the thing with wax half the night, the plaster had been mixed, the carving was as good as done, she’d even been promised a place at the foundry next month. Two naked models would be sitting downstairs in the studio, waiting for her. Time was pressing.
The sales assistant looked around for something.
Do you need anything? Ella wondered whether the sales assistant would want a cauldron or some herbs for her magic.
Well. . The sales assistant looked down, not at Ella.
Take her coat for her, please, groaned Thomas from his bed. His voice came hissing through his teeth so that anyone could guess at his pain. He braced both fists against the mattress to help himself sit up.
May I? Ella took the sales assistant’s coat, and the slender little woman stowed her headscarf and gloves away in her handbag.
Would you, the sales assistant’s voice was getting quieter and quieter, so that Ella had to stand still to make out what she was saying, would you leave us alone, please?
Why. . and Ella wanted to ask, why should I? But she bit the words back and said: Why not? Ella left the door wide open; she didn’t want to miss anything. As she hung the sales assistant’s coat up on a hanger, she heard the door to Thomas’s room being closed behind her. Wasn’t she a witch herself? Didn’t she know as much about herbs as this sales assistant? Maybe more. What was the woman supposed to know that she didn’t know? She could hardly hear her voice through the door. After a few remarks had been exchanged, there was silence. Ella pressed her ear to the door, she couldn’t hear any rustling, any voices. Once she heard a footstep. After a long time that seemed to Ella like an eternity, Thomas said something that she couldn’t hear properly. She moved away from her listening post on tiptoe, and waited at the end of the long corridor for the door to open.
There you are. The woman stepped out into the corridor and looked around her.
Do you need to go to the lavatory?
What? Oh no, I was looking for my coat.
Here it is. Ella went to the coat stand and handed the sales assistant her coat. Well?
What did you say? The sales assistant put her coat on.
Well, has it gone away? Have you cured him?
I’m sorry, the next few days will show. The slender woman took her headscarf out of her handbag and put it on.
We can’t wait. Ella opened the front door for the woman with a deep bow. The sales assistant did not take much notice of the bow, but stepped over the threshold. Outside the door, she turned to Ella.
It would be a good thing if he didn’t have to go back to that stone quarry, you know where I mean, to Gommern, she said quietly, and with a slight smile she shook hands with Ella.
This was not the way Ella had imagined a witch. She took the big silk scarf that no one must touch or wear but Käthe herself — it had been given to her a few years ago by the French boyfriend of her youth — off the coat stand. She draped the scarf over her head and went into Thomas’s room. Whoooooo! Hocuspocus, abracadabra, when shall we three meet again?
Oh, leave me alone. Thomas was sitting on the edge of his bed, as weak as ever. Ella asked what the woman had done, how she had worked magic. She had only put her hands on his shoulders, said Thomas, she hadn’t even touched his rash, no spells and incantations, or not aloud anyway. Ella couldn’t believe it.
Maybe I can do better. Can I have a go? Ella raised her hands as if conjuring up spirits. But to Thomas it was serious; she had better go away.
While Käthe was finishing the Dancing Couple, and Ella was in her room trying to burn small lumps of resin — she had scraped them off the bark of trees in the summer and kept them in a box — to try out her own powers of witchcraft, Thomas’s rash turned darker and formed scabs. The resin didn’t burn, it only sweltered and turned black where the flames had licked it. Ella invented magic words: Guttlenuts and Shatzlebrutz.
After tomorrow we can all go back to our work, stated Käthe, relieved, at the end of the second week. They were sitting at the supper table, together with a certain Susanne and a certain Kalle, models for the Dancing Couple. What did I tell you? Käthe proudly looked round the table. Thomas’s rash had dried up and the scabs were already coming off many places on his skin. The magic powers of the sales assistant from Erkner had proved their worth. There was no doubt that Thomas’s cure was all due to Käthe, it was her success. Ella wondered how she could let it be known that she, too, had powers of witchcraft.
I know a fairy who works magic, I gave her a quick call, and guess what, Thomas is better now! You just have to know what will help. Pass the butter.
Susanne passed Käthe the butter. A real enchantress?
Well, it helped, anyway. You’ll be taking the early train to Gommern tomorrow, won’t you, Thomas?
Thomas sat hunched at the end of the table. He was chewing his coarse wholemeal bread very thoroughly, and had taken no part in the conversation yet.
Thomas?
Thomas nodded obediently; he wanted to have chewed the bread well before he opened his mouth. Since he ate so slowly, the conversation had usually got away from him before he could contribute to it.
What they do there is just fabulous, Käthe now told her guests happily. They’re bringing stones from all different eras to the light of day, the famous quartzite and slate of the Lower Carboniferous period, fine sandstone from the Pleistocene. Truly unique. Well, of course Ulbricht hopes we can be independent and find our own oil — for Ulbricht, there has to be that bit of hope. But for scientific research it’s all gain. Do say something, Thomas.
What do you expect me to say?
Since you’ve been home you haven’t told us anything about Gommern. A piece of cauliflower fell out of Käthe’s mouth; she wiped her greasy lips with the back of her hand.
What do you expect me to tell you? We’re just breaking up stones, hauling them to the truck or taking them to the next station. Thomas was smiling like an angel.
Don’t play it down. You’re acting as if you were a building worker.
Not at all, I don’t build anything. Quite the opposite, I’m hacking away to destroy the earth. A miner, maybe, no, not even that. I just help, I just lug stones about. Bored, Thomas yawned. He put his hand in front of his mouth and looked gloomily across the table with his sick eyes.
Children! Without deigning to give him so much as a glance, Käthe made a brief and clearly dismissive gesture in Thomas’s direction; she turned cheerfully to their two guests, not much older than Thomas and Ella, who had spent the day modelling for her. Didn’t you say you’re studying economics in Karshorst now? That’s amazing! Käthe drew the cauliflower salad towards her and ate what was left of the stem straight from the bowl.