BRUNO SCHULZ
71
woke with Oush ed (aces (rom a quick nap . Strangely excited, they got
up with feve ri sh energy, read y (or even more heroic buffooneries;
corroded by bo redom, they climbed on tall shelves and drummed with
their fee t, looking fixedl y a t the empty expan se of the market square,
longing fo r an y kind o f di version .
On ce a peasant from the coUnLry, barefoot and smock clad stopped
in the doorway o f the sho p and looked in sh yly. For the bo red shop
assistants thi s was a heaven- sent opportunity. They qui ckly swept
down the ladders, like spiders a t the sight of a fly; the peasant,
surrounded , pulled and pushed , was asked a hundred questions which
he tri ed to parry with a bashful smil e. He scratched his head , smiled ,
and looked with suspi cion a t the assiduo us young men. So he wanted
tobacco? But wha t kind ? The best, Macedoni an, golden as amber? Not
that kind ? Would o rdinary pipe to bacco do? Shag perhaps? Would he
care to step in ? To come inside? There was nothing to fear. The shop
assistants proded him gentl y deeper inLO the shop, toward a side
counter. Leon went behind the counter and pretended to pull out a
nonexi stent drawer. Oh , how he worked a t it, how he bit his lip with
effort!
It
was stuck and would no t move. One had to thump the top of
the counter with on e' s fists, with all one's might. The peasant,
encouraged by th e young men, did it with concentra tion , with p roper
attention . At las t, when there was no result, he climbed , hunched and
gray- haired, on top o f the counter stamping it with his bare fee t. He
had us all in fits of laughter.
It was then tha t the regrettabl e in cident occurred which fill ed us all
with sadness and shame. Although we did not act in bad faith, we were
all equall y LO bl ame.
It
was all due
to
our frivolity, our lack of
seriousness and understanding for Fa ther' s worries. Given the unpre–
dictable, in secure, vo la tile na ture of my fa ther, our thoughtlessness
produced consequences tha t were trul y fa tal.
Whil e we were a ll standing in a semi circle, enj oy ing our little
joke, my fa ther qui etl y entered the shop.
We did no t see him come in . We no ticed him onl y when the
sudden understa nding of our littl e game distorted his face in a grimace
of wild horror. My mother came running, very frightened :
"Wha t is the malter, Jacob?" she asked breathl ess ly.
She began to slap him on th e back as one would a person who is
choking. It was LOO la te. My fa ther was bristling all over, hi s face was
decompos ing qui ckl y, falling apart, changing under our eyes, struck
by
the burden of an in expli ca bl e ca lamity. Before we could understand
what was happening, he shook himself viol ently, buzzed and rose in
