Vienna Secrets

34

GABRIEL KUSEVITSKY OPENED THE door of his apartment and found his brother Asher lying on the sofa, a pen in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. On his lap was a notebook. The pages were covered in Asher’s jagged script and splotches of ink. Distributed around the sofa were balls of scrunched-up paper, unsuccessful drafts that had been ripped out. Although it was still light outside, the curtains had been drawn and a paraffin lamp burned on the table. The air was stale with cigarette smoke.

Asher looked up. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.

“Where have you been?”

Gabriel started to respond, stopped himself, and then smiled nervously. He dropped his umbrella into the stand and said, “I went to see Anna.”

“But you saw her only a few days ago.”

“Yes, that’s true, but…” Gabriel’s sentence trailed off. He shrugged, and moved toward his bedroom door.

“Gabriel?” Gabriel stopped and looked back at his brother. “Gabriel, it wasn’t easy for Professor Priel to get you that scholarship. The case for such a research project had to be made. There were many applicants, all of them good.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You have work to do.”

“I know. You’re right. Of course you’re right.” Gabriel walked over to the sofa and rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “How is the new play coming along?”

Asher made a sweeping gesture with his hand, drawing Gabriel’s attention to the scrunched-up sheets of paper.

“Slowly.”

“Have you been out today?”

“No.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to get you something?”

“I’m not hungry.” Asher looked up at his brother. “Did you really go to see Anna again?”

“Yes.”

“You must be very fond of her.”

Gabriel nodded. “I am.”

“I’m happy for you. But you must not let Professor Priel down, and you must not neglect your work.”

Gabriel put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a book with a battered cloth cover.

“Look at this.”

“What is it?”

“Hildebrandt’s treatise on dreams. It’s a first edition-1875, Leipzig. I bought it for next to nothing from an old man selling books from a stall. He had no idea what it was.”

Asher took the volume from his brother and flicked through the pages.

“Would I understand it?”

“Yes, it isn’t very technical. Professor Freud quotes Hildebrandt, an observation Hildebrandt made concerning memory and dreams… that dreams often reproduce remote or even forgotten events from our earliest years.” Asher closed the book. “Do you still get such dreams?”

“Sometimes.”

“I still get the hunting dream.”

“I know. You had it again the night before last. You were making noises in your sleep.”

Gabriel’s expression became intense.

“We were lion cubs this time, running across a frozen waste.”

“Did we get caught?”

“I could hear the Cossack behind us. The drumming of hooves. The swish of his blade. Then I woke up.”

“We escaped, then.” Asher passed the book back to his brother. “Go to bed. I want to finish this act tonight.”