1、1938 ...
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1938
I stepped silently through the dark living room with a glass of water in my hand. I reached some kind of door; it was half open, and I pushed it. As I did so, my heart was softened by the picture that revealed itself to my sight. There, under the orange lamplight, slept that man; he breathed very slowly and tenderly, sleeping with the calmest and the most peaceful expression on top of a pile of documents.
Adolf, he must have been really tired those days. I walked over to him, took my overcoat, and covered him softly, tucking it under his shoulders. Sleep some more, I looked at his face, which was pale and exhausted. Please don’t wake up, just sleep, you need more sleep.
I placed the glass on his table and walked to the windows. I leaned against the cold, concrete wall and watched. Yes, I shall just watch him, I told myself in my mind; I intended to do nothing more.
I’m such a liar, a hypocrite. I’m just pretending all the time.
I had known since a long time ago that being a good person isn’t easy. I, on the other hand, hadn’t been one at all. I suppose that sometimes lying is O.K., especially when you need to for survival. But building your whole life on lies is another thing. Over the years I had not only lied to others, but perhaps also to myself.
So is there anyone to whom I’ve been truthful? I drew my eyes back to the sleeping man at his desk, no, not him. I looked elsewhere, trying to avoid his image. It couldn’t be him; otherwise I would not have carried that thing in my front pocket.
I remembered that my hand had trembled when I obtained that bottle from my physician. On my way back to my office, I had already told myself over and over that I only did this because I had no other choice. But still I wondered: is this really true? Perhaps my persuasive skills have declined over the past few years. In fact, I’ve lost confidence in my ability the very day I met him.
Slowly, I approached him with timid, silent footsteps. He was fast asleep, snoring quietly, not a bit aware of his surroundings. This is the perfect chance, I will not fail. I pinched with my two fingers the tiny bottle from my front pocket. It was a brown, glass bottle, half full. Very gingerly, I twisted off the cap and lifted the bottle over the glass of water. With one light tap, white powder fell into the transparent liquid, and then dissolved…
I watched it, probably bearing no emotion on my face, since I didn’t know which one was most appropriate under these circumstances. I shivered, perhaps from the cold, since I didn’t have my overcoat on. I pulled myself together. Yes, this will end now, once and for all…-- I thought to myself as the scene from an earlier day unfolded in my mind…
“Anything but Poland. We will be content will Czechoslovakia. Don’t invade Poland, because if you do, I’m afraid that it might be the trigger.”
“To what? A world war?”
“Maybe no, but maybe yes. Adolf, haven’t we failed enough? Germany doesn’t need and can’t afford another world war.”
“It is not within your office to take an interest about these matters.”
“But I am your propaganda minister, and if I don’t support you, I can choose to not speak for you -- even to oppose you, if you are willing to push your scheme that far.”
“You are trying to threaten me and take control here.”
“I’m not trying to take control; I’m trying to make you change your mind, Adolf, please.”
“Then I say do all you want, but you must walk over my dead body before I leave the fate of Germany in your hands.”
He had gazed at me for very long; it had made me very uncomfortable, and I had wanted to stay away, to run out. In the end, he had calmed and apologized to me. However, even as we have moved on to other things, his words had stuck in my mind.
Walk over…my dead body…
You never would’ve thought that I would take it this far, would you? Even for the sake of Germany, for the sake of our country. Since you were not willing to be her guardian, then I would protect her at all cost, even to stain my hands with the blood of my most beloved.
I watched him, not wanting to take the next step. The clock ticked away minute by minute before I noticed that it was nearly midnight. I smiled and took his hand; slowly my cold fingertips traced across the lines of his palm, each so soft and gentle, each I could recall with my eyes closed. Every one of Adolf’s features resembled kindness, contrary to the contents of his character; they gave people courage and comfort…
“Joseph?” I looked down; he winked at me, with his sincere blue eyes. His voice reminded me of the day I ran to him in the field of white flowers; he had waved at me and smiled with brightness…
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s ok. But you should probably get some rest. If you don’t want to go back to the office, I can keep you here for the night.”
I shivered again, this time not from the cold. The kindlier he became, the guiltier I felt; I needed to end this as quickly as possible.
I cleared my throat: “Adolf, it’s beyond your condition to worry about me right now. You have been overusing yourself lately.” I sound great, caring, concerned, I think I was almost proud of my acting skill. I leaned over and kissed him on the corner of his mouth, but before I was able to reach for the water with my trembling hands, I found Adolf’s head tilting, and the kiss deepened. I gave in, letting him wrap his arms around me. His lips kissed in such an affectionate way, his warm chest pressed so closely against mine. I felt all my tension melt away, and then… his cold hand reached into…my front pocket.
Most violently, I pushed him away.
“Joseph Goebbels, how long exactly do you want me to sleep?” He held the bottle in his hand, on which was labeled, almost illegibly, the two words that could end my career and possibly my life: Potassium Cyanide.
Surprisingly enough, I was actually calm, as if I had expected this to happen, as if I had wanted things to end this way instead of the other, “I have nothing to say. Even if I give my reason, you will not find it valuable, so just do whatever you want with me.”
“You see, this was not entirely unanticipated on my part, but that’s not the question here. The question is…” His face turned ghastly white, all the color simply faded. He gazed into my eyes in the most devastating way: “Joseph, do you want me to drink this?”
And his hand, though shaky, approached that glass of water and grabbed it without even the slightest hesitation.
That’s right. Even from the beginning, I was the only one who had been afraid.
What did I seek? I sought the freedom and the happiness of Germany, and in order to seize it from his hands, I could think of no better way than this one.
Yet I did not know how to answer his question; I could not give him any response. I stared at him with despair, with the hope that maybe he could once again offer me the courage which had motivated and supported me for many years.
As I was about to draw myself completely into his beautiful blue eyes, they suddenly shut. I heard a soft whisper: “I see…I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.” -- Before I saw him lift his arm and the cold transparent glass on his lips…
No…I was deaf before the sound of breaking glass cracked the silence of the night.
I looked at the unique pattern formed by the shards on the floor, then shifted my eyes back to Adolf. He was seemingly shocked by my action.
I wanted to explain, but I was mute, and I feared that if I spoke my words would come out syllable by syllable. He had no idea how terrified I was at that moment, possessed of the idea of him being gone forever. I realized that my heart could not bear the sadness of leaving him, my life could not bear being incomplete in his absence, in pieces like the shattered glass on the ground.
I clenched his hand, gripping it so tightly that I knew I hurt him. I smiled, with tears trailing from the corners of my eyes.
“Dear Joseph, oh, my dearest Joseph…” Gently, he took me into his embrace. After a while, I felt the fabric on my shoulder wetted by some celestial liquid; I sighed, and held him closer…
He told me that what happened in that room would remain there, but I doubt if I will ever be forgiven again, if we will still look at each other the same.
And if he must die, the let it be some other man to kill him; I have lost the ability and the courage to compete that task twelve years ago.
If he seeks death, if he seeks world destruction, I cannot stop him. All I can do is hold his hand, and we shall embrace it together.
I know there will be a day when this will end, eventually. Yet for now, even my hatred binds me closer to him. So I guess I’d probably let it linger, for a little longer…
So God forgive me…
作者有话说
第1章 1938
