The Hustler: The Story of a Nameless Love From Friedrichstrasse Read Online Free Page B

never ended. But the shops in them! What all there was to see and buy there! He could not get his fill of looking at them, and he would have liked to own everything—this stylish suit and those colorful ties; that wristwatch and this cigarette case of silver, no, that other case there, the flat, gold one. And this here! And that there!
    Thus he stared in wonder, and could stand before the same shop window an hour without stirring.
    He was also no longer as shy as on the first day. When he felt hungry and thirsty, he went into the first beer hall he came to and ordered, thinking every time, you’ve still got money.
    He gradually came to know the part of the city where he usually roamed. The long street that started up here and seemed never to end was Friedrichstrasse. The broad one with trees and benches in the middle and a gate at the beginning—or at the end?—was Unter den Linden.
    He even rode on streetcars and buses, up on the top. Once, just for the pleasure of it, he rode through the Tiergarten, another time down to Kreuzberg and back.
    If he became too bored all alone, there was always the cinema. It was much lovelier, more colorful and mysterious in its darkness than the bright life outside. There were some that already opened in the early afternoon. He could sit for hours looking at the flickering screen, mostly without comprehending the films, but held by the quivering and ever-changing spell of the pictures.
    One day, he no longer knew which it was, he counted his money on awakening, then counted once more and realized it was not even enough for the return trip. He was terribly frightened at first, especially when he counted back and realized that the day was Thursday, the day to which he had paid for the room.
    He had to go home now. What was he to do here without money? He would a thousand times have preferred to stay, but he had to go home.
    He thought it over. He realized that his things in the box were worth nothing. But he still had his watch, his confirmation watch.
    He crept out of the hotel, luckily without being seen. Somewhere near the train station he remembered having seen the sign of a pawnbroker. He found it again.
    “Silver? Nonsense, nickel,” the pawnbroker said, and announced he could have one mark on it. One mark! No, then he’d rather not. But in the end, he took the mark anyway.
    Now he had two marks and seventy pennies altogether. What was he to do? He still had to eat and get through the day.
    So he drank a cup of coffee and ate a couple of dry rolls, then sat hungry almost the whole day in one corner of a poorly ventilated all-day cinema. He was discovered and had to pay an additional amount. He saw his money shrink to a bit over one mark.
    For today, a meal was out of the question, or what would he live on tomorrow?
    He crept around his hotel, going inside in an unobserved moment, and reached his room unhindered. He fell uneasily asleep.
    Early the next morning the old waiter was standing at his bed in his eternal tailcoat.
    “What’s this? The room not yet paid for the night?” He had to admit it. But that ended it.
    “That would really be great! Sleep and not pay? “What, leave your old box of rags here as security? Naturally it stays here. You’ll get it again when you bring money. Now you’re to get out of here, as quick as possible.”
    The boy begged: “Just a couple days more . . . I’ll pay then, really I will.”
    “Nothing doing! Then everyone could come.” The old man remained standing beside him until he finished dressing.
    “When you have money, you may return and pick up your things. Not before, understood?”
    *
    He was standing now in the street; he could have howled with rage. Couldn’t the old guy let him stay at least this night, when he already had slept there four nights and paid for them on time, in advance even!
    What now?
    If only he could find work. But where and how? He had no idea how to go about it. (That he might still meet up with his friend