Flotsam by Erich Maria Remarque Read Free Book Online Page B

commonest thing there is.”
    He went outside. To his surprise he saw the professor strolling up and down on the opposite side of the street. His attitude—hands clasped behind his back, body bent slightly forward—was the same one he had assumed when he walked up and down on the lecture platform elucidating some new and complicated discovery in the domain of cancer research. Only now he was probably thinking about vacuum cleaners and phonographs.
    Kern hesitated a moment. He had never accosted a professor.But now, after his experience with the violinist, he walked over to him.
    “I beg your pardon, Professor,” he said, “for speaking to you. I would never have believed that I would be in a position to give you advice. But now I should like to try.”
    The professor paused. “Please do,” he replied distractedly. “Please do. I shall be grateful for any advice. What was your name?”
    “Kern. Ludwig Kern.”
    “I shall be grateful for any advice, Herr Kern. Quite unusually grateful. Really!”
    “It is hardly advice. Only the lesson of experience. You are trying to sell vacuum cleaners and phonographs. Give it up. It is a waste of time. Hundreds of emigrees here are trying that. It is as hopeless as trying to sell life insurance.”
    “That was the next thing I was going to try,” the professor interrupted excitedly. “Someone told me it was easy to do and you could earn good money at it.”
    “He offered you a commission for every policy you sold, didn’t he?”
    “Yes, of course. A good commission.”
    “But nothing else? No expenses and no salary?”
    “No, nothing of that sort.”
    “I could make you that offer. It doesn’t mean a thing. Professor, have you sold a single vacuum cleaner? Or a phonograph?”
    The professor looked at him helplessly. “No,” he said, strangely embarrassed, “but I hope very soon—”
    “Give it up,” Kern replied; “that’s my advice. Buy a handful of shoelaces or a few boxes of shoe polish or some packages of safety pins. Little things that anyone can use. Peddle them.You won’t earn much, but now and then you’ll sell something. Of course, hundreds of emigrants are trading in them too. But people buy safety pins sooner than vacuum cleaners.”
    The professor looked at him thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of that at all.”
    Kern smiled in embarrassment. “I can believe it. But think it over. It’s better, as I know from experience. Earlier I, too, tried to sell vacuum cleaners.”
    “Perhaps you’re right.” The professor extended his hand. “Thank you. You are very kind.” His voice was suddenly strangely soft and submissive as if he were a student who had come to class badly prepared.
    Kern bit his lip. “I was at all of your lectures—” he said.
    “Yes, yes—” The professor made a distracted gesture. “Thank you, Herr——Herr——”
    “Kern. But it’s of no importance.”
    “On the contrary, it is important, Herr Kern. I beg your pardon—my memory has not been very good recently. Thank you many times. I believe I shall try it, Herr Kern.”
    The Hotel Bristol was a dilapidated little frame building that had been rented by the Refugees’ Aid. Kern was assigned a bed in a room in which two other refugees were staying. He felt very sleepy after the meal he had eaten and went to bed at once. The two others were not there and he did not hear them come in.
    In the middle of the night he was wakened by screams. He sprang out of bed immediately and, without pausing for thought, seized his bag and his clothes, dashed through the door and down the hall. Outside everything was quiet. At thehead of the stairs he stopped, put down his valise and listened—then he rubbed his eyes with his fist. Where was he? What was up? Where were the police?
    Slowly memory came back to him. He looked down at himself and smiled with relief. He was in Prague, in the Hotel Bristol, and had a permit that was good for fourteen days. Silly to get in such a