DANIELA’S PARTY WAS ORDINARY, PROSAIC EVEN. AT TWO THEY feasted upon cervelat, the thick, stubbed wurst known commonly as Switzerland’s national sausage. At three they ate a buttercream cake baked by Eva, a distant cousin of the Benz siblings who lived nearby. At four o’clock Daniela unwrapped her birthday gifts. It was five. Anna had a headache. When she checked her Handy, she found a message from Archie. Tomorrow after class? She texted back: Maybe.
ON THE DAY AFTER meeting Stephen Nicodemus, Anna left Charles at Kinderkrippe and told Ursula, whom she passed on the street returning from the post office, that she had just a little more shopping left in the city but would be home in time to get Charles and meet Victor after school. Ursula nodded and kept walking. Anna scolded herself for being so chatty. It would be weeks before she learned that the secret to telling lies was simply not to tell them: Omit, Anna, omit. The fewer the details, the more credible you’ll sound. When Anna reached the station, she boarded her usual train. But instead of riding it all the way to the Hauptbahnhof, she got off at Wipkingen, the station just before it. From Oerlikon, the station that immediately precedes it, the ride to Wipkingen was a short two kilometers, three-quarters of which took place in a dark, straight tunnel. Tunnels made Anna apprehensive. Indeed, she found a comfort riding trains, but this occurred in open air alone. In tunnels she could think of nothing but the earth above. What if the ground collapsed? What if I was buried underneath? What is it like to be buried underground? Will I know it when I’m dead? In tunnels she worked her best to distract herself. She would imagine, then, the topographies above her, perhaps with a city map in her hand, and trace the train’s path. On the S3 she’d picture the hills of Zürichberg, the Dolderbahn, the FIFA headquarters, the empty fields between Gockhausen and Tobelhof. On this train, the S8, she imagined the houses she was passing underneath, the people inside of them. Who was cooking, who was sleeping, who was fighting, who was making love. Who was sitting on a balcony feeling sorry for herself. Who was breaking someone else’s heart. Who was having her own heart broken. As maudlin as it was, it perturbed her less than the alternative. It’s through a tunnel a body comes into the world, Anna thought. And as a body leaves it? Anna didn’t know, though some people described a tunnel of light. Anna was willing to accept that as fact.
A short walk found her at Nürenbergstrasse. Stephen sat on a bench in front of his building. He was waiting for her. He took her to his room on the first floor.
Anna had never been mad about foreplay. She was not one of those women who needed to endure complicated half hours of rubbing and prodding and explosive plyometrics before her body tensed and the dam holding back her pleasure burst. Her desires were basic. Put it in, take it out. Repeat for as long as possible.
This was Anna’s first infidelity.
They fucked so hard that afterward neither could walk.
DOKTOR MESSERLI POINTED TO a picture of a three-footed fountain framed by stars, the sun and moon, and a two-headed dragon. Pillars of smoke plumed up either side. “Fire,” she said, “is the first act of transformation. And,” she added, “in alchemy, fire is always associated with libido.”
ANNA ATE TOO MUCH. Her stomach ached and she herself was restless. She was ready to go home but they wouldn’t leave for another two hours at least.
She rose from the table, stretched her arms above her head, and looked around. “Anyone want to go for a walk?” Bruno grunted. The beer was catching up to him and he was getting tired and cranky. Anna took the grunt for a no. Ursula had no interest. The boys were elsewhere. Daniela had guests to entertain. Even Polly Jean; she was asleep on David and Daniela’s bed. Anna shrugged and started off alone.
She’d only made it down the drive before Daniela called after her and asked if she wanted an umbrella. Anna shook her head no. All day long rain had seemed unavoidable. And yet, they had avoided it. She’d take the chance. A few steps farther on she heard the call of her name once more. She turned. Karl Tr?tzmüller was jogging across the yard to meet her. “I want to come with you,” he said. Bruno glanced briefly in their direction, then turned back to his conversation. Anna didn’t need his permission. But apparently she had it.
Karl caught up with Anna and the two of them started on the path that led into the Mumpf woods.
“THINK OF A BUCKET, Anna. Your heart is a bucket with a hole in the bottom of it. It leaks. You cannot keep it full.”