The Third Reich

SEPTEMBER 30

For three days I saw no one. Yesterday, at last, I dropped by the club, secretly convinced that seeing my old friends wasn’t a good idea, at least not yet. Conrad was sitting at a table in the corner. His hair was longer and he had dark circles under his eyes that I didn’t remember. For a while I watched him without saying anything as the others came up to greet me. Hello, champ. With what warmth and sincerity I was welcomed, and yet all I felt was bitterness! When he saw me in the midst of the commotion, Conrad sauntered over and shook my hand. It was a less effusive welcome than that of the others but more genuine, which was balm to my soul; I felt at home. Soon everyone went back to their tables and new battles were begun. Conrad got someone to take his place and asked whether I wanted to talk at the club or outside. I said I’d like to walk. We ended up at my house, drinking coffee and talking about everything except what really mattered, until after midnight, when I offered to drive him home. We spent the whole ride in silence. I chose not to come in. I’m tired, I explained. When we parted, Conrad said that if I needed money I shouldn’t hesitate to ask him for it. I probably will need a little money. Again we shook hands, longer and more earnestly than before.