Strange News From Another Star Page 9

  'Oh, how I wish,' he heard the first one say, 'how I wish I had hair that was all red-gold and long enough to reach to my knees!'

  The second girl, hearing her friend's wish, sighed softly and looked more intently into her mirror. Then, blushing, she timidly divulged what her heart dreamed of: 'If I had a wish, I would like to have the prettiest hands, all white and delicate, with long narrow fingers and rosy fingernails.' She glanced down at the hand that was holding the oval mirror; though not ugly, it was rather short and broad and had become roughened and coarse from work.

  The third, the smallest and merriest of the three, laughed and cried gaily: 'That's not a bad wish. But you know hands aren't so important. What I'd like most is to be, from today on, the best and nimblest dancer in the whole country of Faldum.'

  Then the girl gave a sudden start and turned around, for out of the mirror, behind her own face, peered a stranger's face with gleaming black eyes, the face of the man from the forest, whom the three had not seen standing behind them until now. They stared at him with amazement as he nodded and said: 'You have made three nice wishes, young ladies. Are you really serious about them?'

  The small girl had put down the mirror and hidden her hands behind her back. She wanted to pay the man back for startling her, and was trying to think of a sharp rejoinder; but when she looked into his face, there was such power in his eyes that she grew confused. 'Is it any business of yours what I wish?' was all she could say, blushing.

  But the one who had wished for beautiful hands was impressed by the tall man's dignified and fatherly air. She said: 'Yes, indeed, I am serious about it. Could one wish for anything finer?'

  The mirror dealer had approached, other people too were listening. The stranger pushed back the brim of his hat so that his smooth high forehead and imperious eyes were strikingly visible. Now he nodded and smiled at the three girls and cried: 'Just look, now you have everything you wished for!'

  The girls stared at one another, then each looked quickly into a mirror, and they all grew pale with astonishment and joy. The first one had thick gold locks reaching to her knees. The second held her mirror in the whitest, slimmest princess hands, and the third was suddenly standing in red leather dancing shoes on ankles as slim as those of a doe. They could not grasp what had happened, but the one with the beautiful hands burst into blissful tears, leaned on the shoulder next to her, and wept happily into her friend's long hair. Now people began shouting, and news of the miracle was cried abroad from the neighbourhood of the booth. A young journeyman who had seen the whole thing stood there staring at the stranger with wide-open eyes as though he had been turned to stone.

  'Wouldn't you like to wish something for yourself?' the stranger suddenly asked him.

  The apprentice gave a start, became totally confused, and let his eyes rove about helplessly, trying to spy something he could wish for. Then he saw hanging in front of the pork butcher's booth a great wreath of thick red knackwurst and he stammered, pointing at it: 'A string of knackwurst like that, that's what I'd like to have!' And behold, there the wreath hung around his neck, and all who saw it began to laugh and shout, and everyone tried to press closer, everyone wanting to make a wish, and they were all allowed to. The next to have a turn was bolder and wished for a new outfit from top to toe; hardly had he spoken when he was dressed in brand-new clothing as fine as the burgermeister's. Then came a country woman who took her courage in both hands and asked straight out for ten talers, and forthwith the talers were jingling in her purse.

  Now people saw that in all truth miracles were happening and at once the news spread from the market-place across the city, and a huge group quickly formed around the booth of the mirror dealer. Many were still laughing and joking, wouldn't believe a word of it, and made sceptical remarks. But many had succumbed to the wish fever and came rushing with glowing eyes and faces hot and contorted with greed and worry, for each feared that the source might dry up before he had a chance to participate. Boys wished for cookies, crossbows, dogs, bags full of nuts, books, and games of bowls; girls went away happy with new clothes, ribbons, gloves, and parasols. A little ten-year-old boy who had run away from his grandmother and was quite beside himself with the sheer splendour and glamour of the fair wished in a clear voice for a live horse, a black one; and forthwith behind him was a black colt whinnying and rubbing his head affectionately on the boy's shoulder.

  An elderly bachelor with a walking-stick in his hand, quivering with excitement and hardly able to speak a word, forced his way through the miracle-intoxicated throng.

  'I wi-wish,' he stammered, 'I wi-wish for myself twice one hundred - '

  The stranger looked at him closely, took a leather pouch from his pocket, and held it in front of the excited man's eyes. 'Wait a minute!' he said. 'Didn't you perhaps lose this money pouch? There's a half taler in it.'

  'Yes, I certainly did,' cried the bachelor. 'That's mine.'

  'Do you want it back again?'

  'Yes, yes, give it here!'

  So he got his pouch back again and thus used up his wish, and when he understood this he went at the stranger furiously with his cane, but did not succeed in hitting him; instead, he knocked down one of the mirrors and the fragments had not yet ceased rattling when the dealer was standing there demanding money, and the bachelor had to pay.

  Then a corpulent householder stepped forward and made a capital wish - to wit, a new roof for his house. Immediately brand-new tiles and whitewashed chimneys were visible, shining in his street. Then everyone became feverish again and their wishes were pitched higher, and soon there was a man who felt no shame in making the modest wish for a new four-storey house on the market-place, and in a quarter of an hour he was leaning over his own windowsill and watching the fair from that vantage point.

  It was now really no longer a fair; instead, all the life of the city, like a river from a spring, flowed only from that spot beside the mirror booth where one could get a wish from the stranger. Cries of wonder, envy, or derision greeted each wish, and when a hungry little boy had wished for nothing but a hatful of plums, his hat was filled again with taler pieces by someone who had made a less modest wish. Great rejoicing and applause broke out when the fat wife of a storekeeper made use of her wish to cure herself of a large goitre. But then came an example of what anger and jealousy can do. The woman's husband, the shopkeeper, who lived in conflict with her and had just had a fight with her, made use of his own wish, which might have made him rich, to restore the vanished goitre to its old place. But the precedent had been set, and crowds of the sick and infirm were fetched and people fell into new frenzies as the lame began to dance and the blind ecstatically greeted the light with reawakened eyes.

  Meanwhile, youngsters had run about everywhere announcing the miraculous happenings. The story was told of a loyal old cook who was standing at the hearth roasting a goose for her employers when she heard the news through the open window. She could not resist running off to the market-place in order to wish herself rich and happy for life. But the farther along she pressed in the crowd the more tormented her conscience became, and when it was her turn to wish she gave up her plan and only requested that the goose might not burn up before she got back home.

  The tumult would not cease. Nursemaids came rushing out of houses with their little ones in their arms, invalids stormed eagerly into the streets in their nightgowns. In a state of great confusion and despair, a little old lady made her way in from the country and when she heard about the wishing she begged in tears that she might find her lost grandchild safe and sound. Behold, without an instant's delay there came the boy riding on a little black horse and fell laughing into her arms.

  Finally the whole city was transformed and overcome by intoxication. Pairs of lovers, their wishes fulfilled, wandered happily arm in arm; families rode in caleches, still wearing the old mended clothes they had put on that morning. Many who were already regretting unwise wishes had either sadly disappeared or drunk themselves into f
orgetfulness at the old fountain in the market-place, which a prankster through his wish had supplied with the best wine.

  And in the whole city of Faldum there were only two people who knew nothing about the miracle and had not made wishes for themselves. These were two young men who were behind closed windows high up in an attic room of an old house on the edge of town. One of them stood in the middle of the room with a violin under his chin and played with utter surrender of body and soul; the other sat in a corner with his head in his hands, totally absorbed in listening. Through the little windowpanes the beams of the late afternoon sun obliquely lit a bunch of flowers standing on the table and played over the torn wallpaper. The room was completely suffused with warm light and the glowing tones of the violin, like a little secret treasure chamber filled with the glitter of gems. The violinist's eyes were closed and he swayed back and forth as he played. The listener stared at the floor, lost in the music, as motionless as though there were no life in him.

  Then footsteps sounded in the street and the house gate was thrown open and someone pounded heavily up the stairs all the way to the attic room. It was the owner of the house, who tore the door open and came shouting and laughing into the room. The music abruptly ceased; the silent listener leaped up startled and distressed, the violinist too was angry at being disturbed. But the landlord paid no heed, he swung his arms about like a drunkard and shouted: 'Fools, there you sit fiddling and outside the whole world is being changed. Wake up and run so you won't be too late - there's a man in the market-place who makes a wish come true for everyone. So you needn't live under the roof any more and continue to owe me the miserable bit of rent. Up and away before it's too late! I too have become a rich man today.'

  The violinist heard this with astonishment, but since the man would not leave him in peace, he set his violin aside and put his hat on his head; his friend followed silently. Barely were they out of the house when they saw the most remarkable changes in the city. They walked bemused, as though in a dream, past houses that only yesterday had been grey and askew and mean but now stood tall and elegant as palaces. People they had known as beggars drove by in four-horse carriages or looked in proud affluence out of the windows of beautiful homes. An emaciated fellow, who looked like a tailor and was followed by a tiny dog, was sweating as he wearily dragged behind him a great heavy sack, from which gold pieces trickled through a small hole on to the pavement. As though drawn by some magnet, the two youths arrived in the market-place and in front of the booth with the mirrors. There stood the strange man and he said to them: 'You're in no hurry with your wishes. I was just about to leave. Well, tell me what you want and don't feel any hesitation.'

  The violinist shook his head and said: 'Oh, if they'd only left me alone! I don't need anything.'

  'You don't? Think again!' cried the stranger. 'You may wish for anything at all, anything you can think of.'

  The violinist closed his eyes for a moment and reflected. Then he said softly: 'I would like a violin on which I could play so marvellously that the whole world with its uproar could no longer come near me.'

  And behold, he was already holding a priceless violin and a bow in his hands, and he tucked the violin under his chin and began to play: it sang sweet and strong like the song of Paradise. Whoever heard it stopped and listened and his eyes grew solemn. But the violinist, playing more and more intensely and beautifully, was swept away by Those Who Are Invisible and disappeared in the air, and still from a great distance his music came drifting back with a soft radiance like the glow of sunset.

  'And you? What do you wish for yourself?' the stranger asked the other young man.

  'Now you have taken the violinist away from me!' the youth said. 'I want nothing from life but to listen and watch, and I would like to think only about what is immortal. And so I would like to be a mountain as big as the countryside of Faldum and so tall that my summit would tower above the clouds.'

  Then a thundering began beneath the earth and everything started to shudder. There was a sound of breaking glass, the mirrors fell one after another into splinters on the pavement, and the market-place rose swaying like a cloth under which a cat has suddenly awakened and is arching her back. An immense terror seized the people, thousands fled screaming out of the city into the fields. But those who remained in the market square saw behind the city a mighty mountain rising up into the evening clouds, and they saw the quiet stream transformed into a wild white torrent that rushed down foaming from high up on the mountain, with many falls and rapids, into the valley below.

  Only a moment had passed, and the whole countryside of Faldum had become a gigantic mountain with the city lying at its foot, and now far away one could see the ocean. However, no one had been injured.

  An old man standing beside the mirror booth, who had seen the whole thing, said to his neighbour: 'The world's gone mad. I'm glad I haven't much longer to live. Only I'm sorry about the violinist. I would have liked to hear him play once more.'

  'Yes, indeed,' said the other. 'But tell me, what has become of the stranger?'

  They looked all around. He had disappeared. But when they gazed up at the new mountain they saw the stranger walking away, his cape waving in the wind; they saw him stand for an instant, gigantic against the evening sky, and then vanish behind a cliff.

  2. The Mountain

  Everything perishes, and all new things grow old. That annual fair was a thing of the past, and many a man who had wished himself rich on that occasion had long since grown poor again. The girl with the long red-gold hair had acquired a husband and children, who themselves had visited the fair in the city in the late summer of each year. The girl with the nimble dancing feet had married a master workman, she could still dance magnificently, better than many young people, and although her husband had wished himself a great deal of money, it looked as though this merry couple would run through it all within their lifetimes. But the third girl, the one with the beautiful hands, it was she who still thought more than anyone else about the stranger at the mirror booth. Indeed, this girl had never married and had not grown rich, but she still had her delicate hands and on their account no longer did farm work but tended the children of the village wherever she was needed and told them fairy tales and stories, and it was from her that all the children had learned about the miraculous fair and how the poor had become rich and the countryside of Faldum had become a mountain. When she told these stories she looked smilingly straight at her slender princess hands and was so lively and charming that one could believe there had been no luckier or more splendid prize given out at the mirror booth than hers, although she remained poor and husbandless and had to tell her beautiful stories to other people's children.

  Everyone who had been young at that time was now old, and whoever had been old then had now died. Only the mountain was unaltered and ageless, and when the snow on its summit sparkled through the clouds, it seemed to smile and be happy that it was no longer a man and did not have to reckon in terms of human time. High above the city shone the mountain's cliffs, its huge shadow moved each day across the land, its brooks and rivers brought down advance notice of the waxing and waning of the seasons, the mountain had become the protector and father of all. Forests grew on it and meadows with waving grass and flowers; springs gushed forth from it and snow and ice and stones, and on the stones grew bright moss and beside the brooks forget-me-nots. Within the mountain were caverns where with unchanging music water dripped in silver threads year after year from stone to stone, and in its crevasses were secret chambers where with millennial patience crystals grew. On the summit of the mountain no man had ever stood. But many claimed to know that up there at the very top was a small round lake in which nothing had ever been mirrored except the sun, the moon, the clouds, and the stars. Neither man nor animal had ever looked into this pool which the mountain held up to the heavens, for even eagles could not fly so high.

  The people of Faldum lived happily in their city and in the many valleys; t
hey christened their children, they carried on trade and commerce, they bore one another to the grave. And all that was handed on from forefathers to grandchildren and continued as a living tradition was their knowledge and their dreams about the mountain. Shepherds and chamois hunters, naturalists and botanists, mountain cowherds and travellers increased the treasure, and the makers of songs and tellers of tales spread it abroad; they learned of endless Stygian caves, of sunless waterfalls in hidden chasms, of towering glaciers, they learned the paths of the avalanches and the tricks of the weather, and everything the land received by way of warmth and frost, water and growth, weather and wind, all came from the mountain.

  No one any longer knew about the earlier times. To be sure, there was the beautiful saga of the miraculous annual fair at which each soul in Faldum had been allowed to wish for whatever he wanted, but that the mountain had been formed on that day no one would now believe. The mountain, they knew for certain, had stood in its place from the beginning of time and would remain there for all eternity. The mountain was home, the mountain was Faldum. But the stories about the three girls and about the violin player, these people loved to hear, and every once in a while there had been here or there a youth who would lock his door and lose himself in his violin playing as he dreamed of vanishing in his most beautiful song like the violin player who had been swept away into heaven.

  The mountain lived on, silent and immense. Each day it saw the sun rise distant and red out of the ocean and pursue its circular course past its summit from east to west, and each night it watched the stars following the same silent track. Each year winter wrapped it heavily with snow and ice, and each year in their season the avalanches thundered on their way and at the edges of their melting snows the bright-eyed summer flowers, blue and yellow, laughed in the sun and the brooks were in spate and the lakes shone blue and warm in the sunlight. In viewless caverns, lost waterfalls roared and the small round lake high above on the summit lay under heavy ice and waited all year for the brief period of high summer when for a few days it opened its bright blue eye to the sun and for a few nights reflected the stars. Dark caverns where stood the waters resounded with the unceasing fall of drops on stone, and in secret shafts the thousand-year-old crystals grew steadfastly towards perfection.