Chapter 35 disinfectant

Last night, hasty dreams came one after another.It is similar to the scene where friends come and go on a visiting day.One dream gave the door to the other, and after telling me what the dream thought worth telling, they went away.Dumb stories, lots of repetitions, monologues, which had to be heard because of the earnest and forceful voices read and the expressions and gestures of bad actors.I tried to tell these stories to Bruno over breakfast, but couldn't because I forgot them all.Oscar has no talent for dreaming. Bruno was packing up breakfast, and I asked by the way, "Good Bruno, how tall am I now?"

Bruno put the saucer of jam on the coffee tray and said worriedly: "But Mr. Matzerath, you didn't eat any jam." I am familiar with this accusation.He always wants to say a few words after breakfast.Every morning Bruno brought me such a morsel of strawberry jam that I immediately covered it with a roof made of folded paper or newspaper.I can't see or eat jam, so I calmly and decisively refuted Bruno's accusation: "Bruno, you know exactly what I think about jam—you might as well tell me how tall I am now." Bruno had the eyes of an extinct eight-legged animal.Whenever Bruno had to think, he cast his prehistoric gaze on the ceiling, and he mostly spoke in that direction, as he said this morning, "But it's strawberry jam!" Use silence to indicate that I have to ask about Oscar's height.After a long pause, Bruno looked away from the ceiling and stared at the railing of my bed, and then I heard that I am 1.21 meters tall.

"Good Bruno, just to be on the safe side, can you measure it for me again?" Without moving his eyes, Bruno reached into the hip pocket of his trousers and took out a folding ruler. With almost savage force, he lifted the covers off me, pulled down the shirt I had slid on to cover my naked body, and opened the terribly yellow, The ruler that ends at 1.78 meters sticks to my body, moves, examines, and carefully measures with two hands, but keeps my eyes on the ancient giant reptiles.Finally, the folding rule stopped still on me, and he pretended to be reading the result and said, "It's still 1.21 meters!"

Why did he have to make this noise when he was folding the ruler, when he was packing breakfast?Does he not like my height?Bruno, carrying a breakfast tray with strawberry jam in a natural color that would irritate by the dark yellow folding rule, left the room and stood in the hallway, pressing his eyes once more to the peephole in the door—before he finally let me Before this twenty-one-meter body was left alone, his gaze made me old. Oscar is so tall!That's too tall for a dwarf, midget, Lilliputian.Lady Laguna, my Rosweta, how much can you measure to the top of your head?How tall can Master Bebra, a descendant of Prince Eugen, be?Today I can even look down on Kitty and Felix.All the people I mentioned looked down at Oscar with jealousy and friendliness, yes, until he was twenty-one, he was only ninety-four centimeters.

I didn't start growing until a stone hit me in the back of the head while burying Matzerat in the Saspe cemetery. Oscar talked about stones.Well, I'm determined to add a little bit of what happened at the cemetery. I played a little game and finally realized that for me there was no longer a question of "should I?"So I took the drum off me and threw it into Matzerath's grave along with the sticks.I made up my mind to grow taller, and immediately my ears buzzed, and the noise became louder and louder.It wasn't until after that that I was hit on the back of the head by a pebble the size of a walnut, thrown by my son Kurt with the force of a four-and-a-half-year-old.I already had a hunch that my son was up to me, so the blow didn't surprise me, but I fell to my drum in the Matzerath grave.Old Hyland pulled me out of the pit with old dry hands, but left the drum and sticks behind, and seeing that I was bleeding from the nose, he made me lie down with the iron pickaxe head on the back of my neck.We all know that the nosebleeds are decreasing, but the stature is growing. Because the growth is small, only Sugar Leo noticed it, shouted loudly, and announced it with the lightness of a bird.

Adding up to this point is basically superfluous, because the growth began before I was hit by the stone and dumped in Matzerath's grave.For Maria and Messrs. Feingold, there was only one reason for my growth from the beginning, and they called it a disease: I got a stone in the back of the head and fell into a grave.Maria beat Kurt Jr. while still in the cemetery.I feel so sorry for Kurt, anyway, he probably stoned me to help me grow up.Maybe he wanted a real, grown-up father, or just a Matzerath double, because he never recognized me as his father and respected me. I continued to grow for almost a year, and doctors of both sexes attested to the cause of thrown stones and unfortunate falls, so they said, and entered my medical records: Oskar Matzerath, the deformed Oskar, due to a piece of The rock hits the back of the head, blah, blah.

Here it is necessary to look back at my third birthday.The grown-ups say the beginning of my special history goes like this: At the age of three, Oskar Matzerath fell down the cellar stairs onto the concrete floor.This fall, he will no longer grow taller, wait, wait. It can be seen from these explanations that man has an understandable propensity to imitate any miracle to provide evidence.Oskar must admit that he, too, had researched each miracle extremely carefully before he dismissed them as fanciful fantasies to be believed. Returning from the Saspe cemetery we meet the new tenants of Madame Truczynski's apartment.A Polish family of eight lived in a kitchen and two rooms.They were kind enough to take us in until we found another place to live.However, Mr. Feingold objected to the crowding of so many people.He also wanted to give us back the bedroom in my house and temporarily live in the living room by himself.But Maria disagreed.She did not think it proper for her to live so closely with a single gentleman as a newly widowed man.Feingold sometimes does not realize that he is not surrounded by his wife Luba and his family, he often feels his wife on his back, so it is possible for him to understand what Maria is saying.Due to Mrs. Luba and politeness, this arrangement was not possible, but he still made room for us in the cellar.He even helped us with the storage room, but wouldn't let me move into the cellar.Because I was sick, terribly ill, a makeshift bunk was made for me in the living room next to my poor mother's piano.

It's hard to find a doctor!Most of the doctors left the city in time for the troop transfer, as the West Prussian health insurance had moved west, and for many doctors the concept of a patient had become unrealistic.Mr. Gord of France searched for a long time to find a female doctor from Elping at Helene Lange's school, where she performed amputations on Wehrmacht and Red Army soldiers lying side by side.She promised to come by on time, and she did come four days later. She sat by my hospital bed, smoked three or four cigarettes in succession while examining me, and fell asleep while smoking the fourth.

Mr. Feingold dared not wake her.Maria picks at her hesitantly.The female doctor didn't wake up until the cigarette burned out and burned her left index finger.She stood up immediately, stamped out the cigarette butts on the carpet, and said excitedly but curtly: "Excuse me, I haven't closed my eyes for a week. I transport East Prussian children in the Kaisermark. Can't get on the ferry, can't get across." .Only troops. Four thousand children. All killed.” Then she patted me, a growing child, on the cheek like a dead child, and put another cigarette in her mouth. , rolled up his left sleeve, and took out an ampoule from his leather bag.While giving herself the stimulant, she said to Maria: "I can't tell what's going on with the kid. It has to go to a sanatorium. But not here. Think about it, go west. He His knees, hands, and shoulder joints are all swollen. His head must be starting to swell too. You apply cold compresses to him. I'll leave you some pills for when he's in pain and can't sleep."

I love this crisp female doctor who doesn't know what's going on with me and admits she doesn't.Maria and Mr. Feingold applied hundreds of cold compresses to me over the next few weeks, which made me feel better but did not prevent the continued swelling and pain in the knee, shoulder and hand joints and head.First of all, my protruding head. Maria and Mr. Feingold were horrified when they saw it.They gave me that pill, but it wore off quickly.He started to draw cold and heat curves with a ruler and pencil, but then buried himself in experiments, filling my body temperature into the boldly designed structure diagram.He traded artificial honey on the black market for a thermometer, measured me five times a day, and recorded results that made Mr. Feingold's form look like a horribly cracked mountain range—I imagined the Alps, the Andes. Snow chains in the mountains.My body temperature was not so bizarre: I was mostly thirty-eight degrees in the morning; it rose to thirty-nine degrees at night;With a fever, I saw and heard all kinds of things.I'm sitting on the merry-go-round, trying to get off, but won't let me off.I sat on a firetruck with many children, and hollowed out swans rode on the backs of dogs, cats, pigs, and deer.All the little kids are crying, they're all going to get off the firetrucks like me, the hollowed out swans are off the backs of cats, dogs, pigs, deer, they don't want to ride the carousel, but they won't let them get off.The Father in Heaven stood beside the owner of the merry-go-round, and after one turn he paid us for another turn.So we prayed together: "Oh, Father, we know you have a lot of change, and you'd be happy to let us ride the merry-go-round and prove to us that the world is round. Put away your purses and say stop." , rest, come down, end, close. We poor children are dizzy! Four thousand of us were sent to the Kaisermark at the mouth of the Wexel, but we couldn't make it because of your carousel, your Carousel..."

But, dear God, Father, the owner of the merry-go-round, smiled as it says in the book, let a penny pop out of the purse again, let four thousand children, and Oscar, ride the firetruck, let The hollowed out swan rides on cats, dogs, pigs, deer, and spins again.My deer—and I still believe I am riding a deer—changes his face every time he carries me past Heavenly Father and the owner of the merry-go-round.It was Rasputin this time, and he laughed, gnashing the coppers for the next round with his prayer-healer teeth.This time it was Goethe the Poet-Sovereign, who lured out a few copper plates from an embroidered pouch, each with a profile of the Father cast on the front.Rasputin again, drunk, followed by Herr von Goethe, very restrained.Crazy with Rasputin for a while, and rational with Goethe for a while.Extremists around Rasputin.The power of order around Goethe.The crowds, the commotion around Rasputin, the aphorisms of Goethe on the calendar... Finally, the merry-go-round stopped - not because the fever was gone, but because someone was always leaning over to relieve it.Mr. French Gord stooped and stopped the carousel.He stopped fire engines, swans, and deer, devalued Rasputin's coppers, sent Goethe to his mothers, sent four thousand bewildered children to the wind, to Kaisermark, over Wei Kessel River, drifting to heaven.He lifted Oscar from the hospital bed and sat him on the cloud of Lysol, in other words, he sterilized me. -------- ① refers to the "Bible". ② Lysol, a kind of disinfectant, also translated "Laishaer". At first, it was about the lice, then it became a habit.He found lice first on little Kurt, then on me, on Maria, and on himself.Probably the Kalmyks who deprived Maria of Matzerath left us with lice.Feingold yelled when he found the lice.He called his wife, his children, suspected that his whole family was infested with lice, and traded artificial honey and oatmeal for various disinfectants.Started disinfecting himself, his whole family, Kurt Jr., Maria and me, and my hospital bed every day.He smeared, sprayed, and sprinkled us.As he mopped and sprayed and sprayed, my heat rose and his words flowed, and I learned that he sprayed and sprayed when he was a disinfectant at Treblinka concentration camp. Carloads of carbolic acid, chlorine and lysol.Every day at two o'clock at noon he sprayed the camp roads, barracks, showers, crematoriums, bundles of clothes, people waiting without showering, people lying down after showering, people coming out of furnaces. Everything, everything that will go into the furnace.Disinfectant Mariusche Francegord sprays Lysol.He listed many names to me, because he knew them all.He talked about Billauer.On the hottest day in August, Bilauer advised the sanitizer to spray the roads of Treblinka with kerosene instead of Lesool.Mr Feingold did just that.Bilauer has matches.The old Zeff Kurland of the Jewish Combatants made the oaths.Engineer Galevsky pried open the weapons room.Bilauer shot and killed Kuttner, the head of the stormtroopers.Sturbach and Valensky overwhelmed Tsisenes.The rest dealt with the guards from the Trawniki camp.Others knocked down the fence.However, Captain Tepke, who usually joked while leading people to the shower, stood guard at the camp gate and shot.But that didn't help him, because the others had already knocked him down.They are Adek Kavey, Myrtle Levitt, Heinock Lehrer, Mersh Rotblat, Lytek Zajar, Tosias Baran and his Deborah.Lorek Bergelmann shouted: "What's the matter with Feingold? He has to go with him until the plane arrives!" But Mr. French Gold was still waiting for his wife Luba.But she would not come then, even though he called her.They grabbed him from left and right.Yakub Gryant on the left, Modhaj Schwarzbad on the right.Running ahead of him was the little doctor Atlas, who had recommended Lazle in Treblinka and continued to recommend it in the forest near Vilna.He asserted: Lysol is more important than life!Mr. Gord of France had to confirm that what he said was justified, because he had sprayed dead people with Suer, not one dead person, but many dead people, why bother with numbers, dead men and women anyway.He knew all their names, so many of them would be annoying, and I, who was swimming in Lai Suer's water, would feel that the life and death of hundreds of thousands of people with names and surnames was secondary to the important issue. It is whether Mr. Ingold's disinfectant can be used to disinfect life in time and fully, and if not life, it can disinfect death. -------- ①Nazi term, referring to the gas chamber in the extermination camp. ②The underground resistance movement established in the Jewish ghetto from 1942 to 1943. ③This paragraph describes that on August 2, 1943, some prisoners in the Treblinka Concentration Camp set fire to the camp, and 600 people escaped. By the end of the war, only about 40 of them survived. After that, my cold and fever subsided, and it was April.Afterwards, my temperature rose again and the carousel turned again.Mr Feingold again sprayed the dead and the living with Lysol.After that, my fever subsided again, and April was over.In early May, my neck shortened and my ribcage widened and gradually bulged upwards.Finally, I was able to rub Oscar's collarbone with my chin without looking down.Once, I had a little fever again, and I sprayed some Lysol again.I heard Maria whisper, swimming in the Lysol: "Don't he be deformed. Don't be a hunchback. Don't be a hydrocephalus!" Mr. Feingold reassured Maria, telling her that he knew people who, despite their hunchbacks and hydrocephalus, managed to do something well.He said that a man named Roman Friedrich hunchbacked to Argentina and opened a sewing machine shop there, which later became a big business and became famous. The story of Friedrich the Hunchback's success and fame did not comfort Maria, but Mr. Feingold, who told the story, rejoiced when he heard it.He was determined to make a big difference to my family's Colonial Warehouse.In mid-May, just after the war, new goods were displayed in the stores.The first sewing machines and sewing machine parts appeared, but household items remained for a while, making the transition a little easier.Heavenly period!Payment is almost cashless.Swapped, swapped, artificial honey, cereal, the last few bags of baking powder invented by Dr. Utterkel, sugar, flour and margarine became bicycles, bicycles and bicycle parts became electric motors, electric motors became tools, tools Turned into fur goods, Mr. Feingold turned the leather goods into sewing machines.Coulter Jr. was a great help in this side-by-side juggling.He brought in customers, introduced business, and became familiar with new industries faster than Maria.Almost as in Matzerath's time, Maria stood behind the counter to receive the regular customers who remained in the local area, and asked the newcomers what they wanted in stammering Polish.Little Kurt had a genius for languages.Little Kurt was everywhere.Herr Feingold has complete confidence in little Kurt.Little Kurt, not yet five years old, had a knack for picking out first-rate Singer and Pfaff sewing machines among the hundreds of crappy and mid-range samples on display at the Bahnhof Street black market.Mr. Feingold appreciated the knowledge of young Kurt.At the end of May, my grandmother Anna Koljacek came to visit us on foot from Bissau via Brentau to Langfur.She lay down on the sofa out of breath.At this time, Mr. Gord of France greatly praised the little Kurt, and also said a few words of praise for Maria.He gave my grandmother the exact history of my medical history, repeatedly pointing out how effective his disinfectant was.He also thinks that the Oscar deserves praise, because I was obedient and didn't shout a word during my illness. My grandmother asked for kerosene, saying that there was no electricity in Bissau.Mr. Feingold told her about his experience of using kerosene in the Treblinka concentration camp and his various tasks as a camp disinfectant, and asked Maria to fill two bottles of kerosene, each with one liter, plus an extra Bags of artificial honey and various disinfectants.He listened absent-mindedly and nodding to my grandmother's account of how Bissau and the Bissau quarry were burned to the ground during the war.She also told of the devastation that had been done to Phil Eck, which is now called Firoga.Bissau is also called Biservo as it was before the war.Ehlers, who had been head of the Ramkau Peasants' Association, who was really capable, married the wife of her brother's son, that is, Jan's wife Hedwig who stayed at the post office. Hanged in front of his office.Hedwig was almost hanged, too, because she was the wife of a Polish hero, but married the local head of a peasant association, because Stefan was a second lieutenant, and Marga was a German girl. Confederate people. "But," said my grandmother, "they'll never catch Stefan again. He's dead in the arctic sea, in the sky. But they're going to take Marga and put him in some camp." At this moment, Vinzent spoke and said a lot, he had never talked so much in his life. So, Hedwig and Marga are now at our house, helping to plant the land. But Vinzent can't do it Well, he talked too much this time, and I'm afraid he won't live long. As for me, the old woman, her whole body hurts, her heart and head hurt, like a fool is beating her, and she still feels that it must be done like this!" Anna Koljacek complained like this, raised her head, stroked my growing head, thought about it, and said the following insightful words: "The situation of the Kashube is like this, Little Oscar. They've been beating their heads. But you're going over there soon, it's better there, only your grandmother stays here. The Kashukou people don't move, they have to stay, stretch Get your heads out and let someone beat you. We're not real Germans, and we're not real Poles. A Kashukou is neither German nor Polish. And they always want to be 100% of." Grandmother laughed out loud.She hid kerosene, artificial honey, and disinfectant under those four skirts, which had not lost their potato color despite the most dramatic military, political, and world-historical events. The grandmother was leaving, and Mr. Feingold asked her to stay a little longer, saying that he wanted to introduce her to his wife Luba and other family members.Anna Koljacek did not see Mrs. Luba, so she said: "It's all right. I've been calling too: Agnes, my daughter, come, come and wring your old mother dry. She didn't Come, like your Luba. And Vincent, my brother, went to the door in the middle of the night, despite his own illness, to wake the neighbors from their sleep. He was calling for his son Jan, Jan Stayed in the post office and ended up dying." She was already at the door, putting on her kerchief, when I called out from the bed, "Grandma, grandma!" She turned and lifted her skirt a little, as if she wanted me to slip in and take me away.At this moment, she probably remembered that kerosene, artificial honey and disinfectant had taken the place.So she left, left, without me, without Oscar. In early June, the first transport trains headed west.Maria didn't show it, but I noticed that she was also saying goodbye to the furniture, the shop, the apartment, the graves on both sides of the Hindenburger Strasse, and the hill of the Saspe cemetery. At night, before she took little Kurt back to the cellar, she sometimes sat by my bedside at my poor mother's piano, holding the harmonica in her left hand and accompaniment to her ditties with one finger in her right.Mr Feingold could not stand the music and asked Maria to stop.Maria had just put down the harmonica and was about to close the piano lid when he asked her to play another verse. Then he proposed to her.Oscar had already seen that something like this was coming.Mr Feingold calls his wife Luba less and less often.One summer night, full of flies and buzzing, he was sure his wife was dead and proposed to Maria.He takes her and the two children, including the sick Oscar.He proposed that the apartment belonged to her and the store was a partnership. Maria was twenty-two at the time.The accidental beauty of her youth seemed fixed, if not hardened.In the last months of the war and the first months after the war, she no longer had perms, which had previously been paid for by Matzerath.Though she doesn't have the two braids that she did during my time, she wears her hair long and shawl-length, giving the impression of a somewhat serious, possibly distressed girl.At this moment, the girl said "no" and refused the marriage proposal of Mr. Gord of France.Maria stands on the rug in my house, holding little Kurt with her left hand, her right thumb pointing to the tiled fireplace.Feingold and I heard her say: "It's not okay. It's over here, it's over. Let's go to the Rhineland with my sister Gust. She's married to a restaurant head waiter. His name is Kerst. , willing to take us in temporarily, the three of us." She submitted the application the next day.We got the documents three days later.Mr. Feingold said nothing, closed the shop, Maria was packing, and he sat by the scales on the counter in the dark of the shop, and stopped scooping artificial honey.It wasn't until Maria was about to say goodbye to him that he slid off the counter, rolled out his bicycle with a trailer, and accompanied us to the train station. Oscar and his luggage--only fifty pounds each--were loaded onto a trailer with two rubber wheels.Mr. Feingold pushes his bicycle.Maria held Kurt Jr. by the hand, and as we turned left onto Elson Street, she turned around the corner again.I couldn't turn around in the direction of Rue Labes, it ached.Oscar's head rested quietly between his shoulders.Only with eyes that can still turn do I call out to Marienstrasse, Stries Creek, Hammer Park, Bahnhofstrasse underpasses that are increasingly disgusting with dripping water, my unspoiled Sacre Coeur, and Longfurt The district railway station, now called Vrzeszki, is difficult to pronounce. We all have to wait.Then the train came, a freight train.There are many, many children.Luggage checked and weighed.Soldiers threw a bale of hay into each wagon.No music is playing.It didn't rain either.Sunny to cloudy with an easterly wind. We got on the fourth-to-last wagon.Mr. Feingold stood on the tracks under the train, his thin, light red hair blowing in the wind.The locomotive jerked to announce its arrival, and Herr Feingold approached the wagon and handed Maria three sachets of margarine and two sachets of margarine.Commands, cries, cries in Polish announcing the train's departure, and at this moment he added a bag of disinfectant to the travel food—Lysol was more important than life!We left, leaving Mr Feingold behind.He stood upright, in line with the regulations for train departures, with light red hair fluttering, becoming smaller and smaller, only waving hands remained, and finally ceased to exist.