Fame by Daniel Kehlmann Read Free Book Online

the other side, and a white Mercedes brakes so hard that it spins sideways; she’s only ever seen something like that in a movie. Unmoved, she keeps walking. Only when she reaches the other sidewalk does her heart begin to thump, and she feels dizzy. Passersby have stood still. That’s also a way things can work, she thinks, it’s another way to shorten things, and it saves a trip to Zurich.
    A young man seizes her elbow and asks if everything’s okay.
    “Yes,” she says, “all okay.”
    He asks if she knows where she lives and how to get there.
    A number of wicked replies occur to her, but she decides it’s not the moment, and assures him she knows perfectly well.
    Back home the light on her answering machine is blinking. Mr. Freytag is letting her know that her medical records have been approved. Her shock makes her realize that she’s still been hoping they’d be rejected, that she’d be told that there’s been an error and her case isn’t incurable. She calls back, and a few moments later he’s connected her to a very polite psychiatrist.
    Unfortunately she has problems understanding his accent. What is it with the Swiss, she thinks, they can do it all, so why can’t they manage to talk like normal people? She tells him things from childhood, names the American, French, and German presidents, describes the weather outside, adds fifteen and twenty-seven, and explains the difference between the concepts of optimistic and pessimistic, and skilled and unskilled. Anything else?
    “No,” says the doctor. “Thank you. Clear case.”
    Rosalie nods. During the additions she’s forced herself not to answer too quickly, and take an extra moment or two so that he wouldn’t think somebody’s helping her. As for the explanations of words, she expressed herself as simply as possible. She was a schoolteacher, and knows from experience: the best thing is never to let yourself stand out. If your test results are too good, you’re suspect and they think you’ve been cheating.
    Now Mr. Freytag is back on the line. As time is pressing, she could come next week. “Would Monday suit you?”
    “Monday,” Rosalie repeats after him. “Why not?” Then she calls the travel agency and inquires about a one-way flight to Zurich.
    “One-way is more expensive. Buy a round-trip.”
    “All right.”
    “What date for the return?”
    “Doesn’t matter.”
    “I don’t recommend it. The cheapest tickets don’t allow you any changes in bookings.” The travel agent’s voicesounds friendly and excessively patient, the kind of voice you only use when talking to elderly women. “Just a moment. When would you like to return?”
    “I don’t want to return.”
    “But you’re going to want to come back.”
    “Maybe better to take a one-way ticket.”
    “I could also book it with an open return. But it is more expensive.”
    “More than a one-way flight?”
    “Nothing is more expensive than a one-way flight.”
    “And that’s logical?” asks Rosalie.
    “Excuse me?”
    “It’s illogical.”
    “Dear lady …” He clears his throat. “This is a travel agency. We don’t set the fares. We have no idea how they’re established. My girlfriend works for an airline. She doesn’t understand it either. I recently saw that a business-class fare to Chicago is cheaper than economy. The customer asked why, and I said, Sir, if I start asking questions like that, I’ll come unglued. Ask your computer. I ask the computer too. Everyone asks the computer, that’s how it goes!”
    “Was it always this way with the pricing?”
    His silence makes her realize he doesn’t even want to think about this. She’s often noticed that people under thirty aren’t interested in why things become the way they are.
    “So, I’ll take the one-way ticket.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “Business?”
    She thinks it over. But it’s not a long flight, why waste money? “Economy.”
    He mutters, types, mutters, types some more,