Gilgi Read Online Free PDF Page A

clear head, my intellect is weak enough as it is.
    “Pit, I meant to ask you something, I might leave home entirely and set up on my own.”
    “Should’ve done that ages ago.” Why can’t she pull her skirt down? There, at the top of her stocking, you can see a strip of white skin. I’m a pig. Box someone’s ears.
    “Pit, I don’t know if it’s the right thing to treat the parents …”
    “The right thing!” Snap! Pit has destroyed a pencil, broken it clean in two. “If you want to do the right thing, love your parents, your fatherland, and its dogs! Marry and have children. Every embryo should come under the anti-abortion law. The state wants children, the earth doesn’t have enough unemployed people yet.” Pit is talking himself into a rage.
    “Stop it, Pit, there’s no need to be so nasty, I can read the satirical papers in a café if I feel like it.” You want to ask the man something, but he’s only got all that Socialist stuff in his head. I don’t understand politics, it doesn’t make sense to me. Gilgi runs all ten fingers through her hair. There’s no talking to Pit today. She wanted to tell him her ridiculous story. For the last week, she’s choked on every mouthful she’s eaten at home. It can’t go on like that, something has to be done. If they had brought her into the world, all right, then they could look after you, too, for as long as you can’t look after yourself. But now! Yes, if you loved them and belonged to them, then you’d just pay them back with feelings. But to take, take, take—without being able to give anything—dammit, you feel like such a heel! And what if you left home now? That would hurt them so much, a fine way of thanking them! So you thought that Pit mightknow what to do, he sometimes hits upon the word that illuminates everything like a hundred-watt globe, but—no point at all, you’ll have to help yourself, Gilgi!—she won’t tell Pit her story.
    Since when has she been so eager to talk about herself, anyway? A bad sign! Perhaps the ground is already starting to tremble under her feet? Rubbish, she’s still standing firm.
    Pit is decorating a sheet of paper with angular doodles. He’s angry that he’s said so much. If the girl would just leave! She’s just sitting there, running her hand over her knee. She’s wearing silk stockings and smelling of flowers and
eau de cologne
. “Are you planning to stay much longer?” Gilgi glances up. Why is he looking at her like that? Silly boy, what’s wrong? She gets up and stands next to him. “You’re crazy, you are.” Her hand strokes his coarse, rust-red hair. She’s the right sort of girl, a good comrade, she doesn’t take it the wrong way when you’re abrupt with her. Pit keeps quite still while Gilgi’s hand strokes his hair, his face—her hand smells of violets—“Silly Pit, work alone isn’t enough. Intellect is all very well, but there are all kinds of other things about people which are important, too, the road you’re on might lead you right away from a full life.” She’d like to say even more, but that’s not so easy. Oh well, he’ll have understood all right what she means. Find a nice girl who likes you, it doesn’t have to be for all eternity.
    “Ow, let go of my hand, Pit, you’re hurting me.”
    “Go now, Gilgi.”
    “See you, Pit.”
    Gilgi stands in the street below, rubbing her wrist. What a grip that boy has! What a struggle he’s making of his life! And she wanted to ask him for advice! He coulddo with some advice on his own account. Every man for himself, and God for all of us. Gilgi takes a little notebook from her handbag: Fräulein Margarethe Täschler, Thieboldstrasse. That’s where you’re going now. After all, you’ll be interested to see the being who brought you into the world. Wasn’t at all easy to get the name out of them at home; she found out the address herself.
    You can feel the pre-Lenten carnival in the air … How did you, pigeon, pigeon,