Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2004 - Ljudmila

Daša Drndić
ing Hitler’s birthday. In the ward they
said, come back tomorrow. I was drenched.
My feet were wet. My hair was wet
too. It was windy. I had forgotten my
gloves. My umbrella had broken. It was
a blue umbrella with yellow dots. I was
wearing brown stockings. I said, I want
to see Friedl. If you want to see Friedl, go
find him yourself, said the nurse. She
wasn’t an unpleasant nurse, in the left
corner of her mouth she had a cake
crumb, it was a chocolate cake crumb. I
found Friedl. He was lying in a bed with
bars. The paint on the bars was peeled
off. All the beds in that ward had bars
on them. In all the beds in that ward lay
children in tiny cages, motionless. Those
children weren’t crying, they were dozing.
They had eyes half open and heavy
eyelids. I slipped my hand through the
bars and stroked Friedl’s cheek. His
cheek was cold. Here’s Mommy, I said.
Friedl didn’t recognize me. He didn’t
even move. I went home and came back
in three days. It was still raining. I came
for my son, I told the doctor, I am taking
him home. Spiegelgrund was the best
hospital in Austria. No sane mind would
ever doubt the quality of Spiegelgrund.
They said, your son is gone, his heart
failed him. The nurse checked his file.
Yes, Friedl died yesterday, he died yesterday
at 14.20, said the nurse. It wasn’t the
nurse with the chocolate crumb in the
corner of her mouth. It was the head
nurse, a strict one. I asked for some document,
for a diagnosis, for a report on the
death of my son. They gave me nothing.
We’re very busy, they said. Then I said,
give me his body, I want his body, that’s
what I want. The strict head nurse said –
he’s been buried in the hospital cemetery,
talk to the undertakers. In the hospital
cemetery I saw many open graves,
all of them muddy, filled with rain,
drenched with water. Then came a lorry
loaded with paper bags. The paper bags
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