A Meal in Winter Read Online Free

no more difficult than that. But, as he saw nothing, Graafgave nothing – apart from blows on the iron for no real reason at all.
    We needed to head towards the woods, towards the forest. In winter, that was the only place they had a chance of surviving, and we of finding them. There was no point searching the Poles’ houses any more. The few they’d been hiding had already been caught.
    We needed to leave the road now, follow tractor paths and search the forest. There would be no risk of falling in frozen potholes there, but we would certainly sink deeper in the snow. What we gained in stability we would lose in tiredness.
    So we took smaller paths. When they led us through woods, we looked between the trees. We searched the air for smoke. Sometimes we went to take a closer look at tracks or something that had caught our eyes between the trees, then afterwards we retraced our steps. The crust of snow gave way beneath our feet, and occasionally we tripped. It’s difficult to walk in snow.
    We came to a hill, and from there we saw some very clear, deep tracks. They might have been from last night, or the night before, or the night before that. It was impossible to guess how old they were. But in the end, that didn’t matter anyway because they went on too far for us tofollow. They descended towards a vast plain, utterly white and bare all the way to the horizon. We tried to follow those tracks with our eyes for a while, and then we forgot about them.
    But we stayed on the hill. It was time for a smoke. We removed our gloves, and the race against the cold began again. But I had the impression it wasn’t as harsh as before. I said to Emmerich and Bauer that it was maybe a bit less cold, that it felt two or three degrees warmer. Bauer lifted his nose and nodded tentatively to acknowledge that this might be true.
    We put our gloves back on and we smoked. I didn’t dare look at Emmerich. We had not got any further with his problem. I looked at Bauer. Buried in snow up to his knees, he was sitting on the snow crust, which held under his weight, and turned away from the plain. He looked like he was sitting on a chair whose legs had disappeared in the earth. Emmerich seemed less worried than he had earlier. He’d taken off his helmet. His wool balaclava was so tight that it made his face look gaunt. He seemed older. But I would probably have looked older to him too, if I’d taken off my helmet.
    Bauer said, ‘Apart from getting frostbite, what could happen to us here?’
    He was referring to Emmerich’s son, of course, and the conversation we’d had before. It seemed a strange idea to bring that back up, even if he was trying to help. I examined Emmerich’s face to see if Bauer’s words had sunk him back into his worries, then I signalled to Bauer that there was no point talking about this again. He nodded to show he’d understood, and began looking around. Then, talking about all the wild animal tracks that ran over each other in the snow, he said: ‘There must be a lot going on here at night.’
    In a peaceful voice, smiling, Emmerich murmured, ‘For me too, there’s a lot going on at night.’
    â€˜You run in the snow at night?’ Bauer asked him.
    â€˜A little bit, yeah,’ said Emmerich.
    Bauer turned and pointed out the human tracks that crossed the plain all the way to the horizon, and asked: ‘So it was you who did that?’
    â€˜Maybe so,’ Emmerich replied, smiling again.
    Then he nodded to himself. The balaclava really did make his face look strange. But when he smiled, he didn’t look so old any more.
    As Emmerich had brought the subject up, I lost my head for a second, forgetting that dreams are better kept to yourself, and I said, ‘I was on a tram last night.’
    Emmerich and Bauer studied me, their expressions asking me silently what on earth I was talking about. ‘You two as well,’ I replied.