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Chapter Twenty-Three
Drugo was suffering from a form of amnesia known medically as "retrograde" -- the more remote memory stores were affected, a loss of memory or events prior to the injury. Everything that happened to him following his regaining consciousness one week ago was fairly clear. He had been unconscious for two days. A substantial blow to the head by a blunt object of some sort had caused amnesia. The circumstances of that blow, which probably occurred on January 3rd, were unknown to the authorities in Marburg. So far, no one had come forth as a witness to Drugo's accident. The Derringer pistol found at the scene of the accident, a few feet from the injured man, was a mystery to the police. No permit to carry the gun was found on the man. A grain dealer would not normally carry a weapon. It could have been dropped by the person who assaulted the man, if that had been the cause of the blow to his head. Those were some of the questions the police had, that had no answers. Since regaining consciousness, Drugo had begun to realize, upon reflection during the daytime hours, that a certain dream seemed to be recurring. He had little else to do all day but sit or stand in his room, submit himself for interviews and examinations with various physicians through an interpreter; go for walks around the Grotzinger grounds with an attendant; eat, and sleep. Drugo dreamed that a dark mass, an object, he could not tell whether it was a person or thing - was swaying slightly from side to side at a distance in front of him. The distance varied from dream to dream. Some kind of music was heard, either coming from that dark mass, or from somewhere beyond it. It was singing or humming in soft, pleasant tones. He got the distinct impression that the music was trying to convey a feeling of love to him, acceptance of him, and assurance that everything would be worked out; differences resolved, obstacles overcome. Beyond that mass, at a greater distance, small points of light were flickering. Out there; it was frozen, sinister, and threatening. It was where he felt himself to be powerless. That morning, when Drugo met with one of the German psychiatrists assigned to his case, the amnesiac asked if he, as Pshenitsin, was married or single. The psychiatrist answered that according to the papers Pshenitsin was carrying, he was single, and he lived in an apartment in the Labaznaya district of Moscow. That was all anybody at the sanitarium knew about him. The doctor thought that probably Pshenitsin would have the opportunity to discuss more personal issues with the representatives of the Agricultural Division when they arrived later that day to take Pshenitsin home to Russia. That information, or rather lack of it, further agitated Drugo. He had placed such faith in his recent dreams. That was all he had. However, the facts that were presented to him seemed to contrast with the high emotional involvement that he was receiving from the dream content. The particular psychiatrist that Drugo was speaking with on that day was Dr. Burgbacher. As Drugo spoke more about his recurring dream, Dr. Burgbacher increasingly probed to get all the dream's interpretations. The psychiatrist was sorry that Drugo had not spoken of the dream sooner. The amnesiac was supposed to be leaving Germany that very day. That did not leave very much time for analysis. Dr. Burgbacher spoke Russian since his university days. He was 48 years old. He was completely bald, and wore a full reddish beard. The white shirt, with its buttoned collar and no tie, and his white suit were dazzling in their brightness, and hurt Drugo's eyes when the psychiatrist first sat in the sunny part of the room at the start of their interview. Drugo asked him to, "Move, please, into the shadows." Drugo spoke almost in whispers, for the most part haltingly, with much difficulty as though there was a shortage of wind in his lungs. Burgbacher picked up on Drugo's phrase, "into the shadows." "Herr Pshenitsin, you said 'into the shadows' rather than, 'out of the sunlight.'" "Yes, and ... so?" Answered Drugo. "It's just that, Herr Pshenitsin, that's where we hope to go now, 'into the shadows' of your dream! Shall we?" Drugo was eager to go. As he told Dr. Burgbacher the dream, certain shadowy areas began to take on light. The swaying dark mass Drugo for the first time called a person. He said, "Someone was swaying slightly from side to side at a distance in front of me." And the locus of the music became precise. "This person was singing or humming, hard to tell which. In pleasant, soft tones." As Drugo finished telling the dream, Dr. Burgbacher began to ask questions. "Herr Pshenitsin, how does this music make you feel? Are you pleased by it, frightened, annoyed, indifferent?" Drugo was silent for a while. He stared down at the tile floor while he pondered the question. Then he looked up. His face was wooden and dour. "I get the feeling that the humming is sending love to me. Yes, an acceptance of me, for what I am, my shortcomings. And it assures me that everything will be worked out, differences resolved; obstacles overcome." Drugo let loose a sagacious smile. "This person who is humming, you said humming just now ..." "Yes, it's humming, she's humming." "She? A woman?" "Yes, a woman. Most definitely. A woman's voice, a lovely voice, who is she?" "You know, Herr Pshenitsin. Tell me!" Drugo fell silent once again. A painful frown settled down upon the tightly drawn skin of the lost countenance. Finally, after several minutes, Dr. Burgbacher asked another question. "The small points of light beyond her, stars perhaps?" Drugo spoke up immediately. "Cold, like stars, but not as distant. Frozen, even." Drugo paused for a time. He again stared at the tile floor. Then without taking his eyes off the floor, he said, "The feeling I get is opposite from the love of her music. It's wicked! It makes me feel powerless! Powerless to return the feelings of love!" "Yes, Herr Pshenitsin, symbolized in the dream by the flickering lights. But probe deeper! What lights?" "Moscow?" Answered Drugo without hesitation. He looked exhausted from his journey into the shadows. It was lunchtime, and Drugo was led to the dining room. Dr. Burgbacher went to his office and wrote down notes from his session with Herr Pshenitsin. In about an hour and a half, he had formulated some thoughts. The medical evidence accumulated on the patient certainly pointed to a head injury. And this could have brought about the patient's retrograde amnesia. Dr. Burgbacher had another theory, another possible cause for the current malady. Dr. Burgbacher wrote in his file on Herr Pshenitsin: "The loss of identity is a defense against an intolerable conflict when some powerful need or wish is ordinarily suppressed because the patient is what he is, occupying a certain social position, and having certain responsibilities and obligations. When the wish is so strengthened, usually by some external crisis, so that he can no longer keep it suppressed, then his personal identity has to be ejected from consciousness."
Flobov first scrutinized the layout of the flat. There was a door and two windows in both the back and front of the house. In the back, where Flobov came in through one of the windows, there was a good-sized kitchen. A hallway ran from the kitchen to a large room at the front with bookshelves, a desk, two chairs on one side, and a sofa and three chairs on the other side. Off the hallway was Holtz's bedroom to one side, and a bathroom to the other side. A door to the staircase leading up to the second and third floor apartments of the house was outside the right of Holtz's door. Flat up against that house on both sides were houses, which was typical for the town. Flobov next made a thorough search of the flat. He put into two brown empty valises he had brought with him anything he found that related to the Tsar Ivan Library Project. He had a good reading knowledge of the German language. Then he waited for Professor Holtz.
At 6:00 p.m. on 1/12/22, Chistkov arrived at the Grotzinger Sanitarium to escort Drugo back to Russia. The train was scheduled to leave Marburg for Berlin and points east at 7:00 p.m. Drugo said his good-byes to the personnel that had taken care of him. He particularly regretted having to take leave of Dr. Burgbacher. Both men agreed that progress has been made. Dr. Burgbacher assured Drugo that the psychiatrists in his own country would be able to help him as well. Drugo was to sign himself out of the facility at the administration desk. He hesitated, not knowing what to write. Chistkov prompted him to sign, "Comrade Pshenitsin." Drugo looked confused, and as though he was going to cry. But he signed. They gave Drugo his small suitcase, the one he had deposited at the Inn when he first arrived in Marburg. Drugo took a profound interest in the suitcase and its contents. Chistkov became alarmed as Drugo examined the clothes, eventually emptying everything out onto a couple of chairs in the lobby. "Here, Comrade Pshenitsin. You'll have plenty of time to look through everything on the train. We'll talk...I'll tell you things about yourself," said Chistkov as he helped Drugo put the clothes back in the suitcase. Chistkov was anxious to get Drugo out of the sanitarium. The taxicab that Chistkov had taken to the sanitarium was waiting outside to drive the two Russians to the Marburg Railroad Station. The train left the Marburg Station about 15 minutes late. Drugo sat by the window seat and stared at the old town and university as it slowly vanished from view. He did not speak much to Chistkov. Drugo felt extremely disoriented and confused. He was going to Russia. What was in store for him there? He had so many questions. He was exhausted and his head ached violently. Dr. Burgbacher had prescribed medication which Drugo took just before he was released from Grotzinger sanitarium. He felt like sleeping. He thought perhaps he could have that dream again. Or another one that would help him remember his life. He fell asleep. Comrade Flobov was on the train. He was two cars back from Drugo and Chistkov. He made no attempt to contact them. When the train pulled into the Minsk station around 10:45 a.m. on 1/13/22, Chistkov told Drugo that they were going to deboard the train to attend a briefing session with representatives from the Agricultural Division. A psychiatrist would also be on hand to examine the amnesiac. Drugo would then be given a nourishing lunch, and then board another train bound for Moscow at 2:00 p.m. Drugo did not question that plan. He welcomed the change of scene. Chistkov told him that he had been in Minsk many times. Seeing the city again might help to make him remember something. Drugo was deep in thought as he walked with Chistkov for three blocks after they left the train station. Comrade Flobov followed them about a block behind. Drugo was thinking about a tall woman, that's all the information he had: singing, love, and a tall woman. "We're having our meeting in this building, Comrade Pshenitsin," said Chistkov as he pointed to a two-story structure ahead of them to the left. The two men climbed five steps and then went through a small door. "It's the room straight in back, right through here. Go in. I'll find the light. Sit down over there, Comrade Pshenitsin." Drugo obeyed. The tall woman in his mind was swaying closer and closer to him. Chistkov stood at the door. Suddenly, Comrade Flobov entered the room. Drugo shook when he saw him. He stood up. The darkness in his mind parted and a beautiful face with blue eyes and blonde hair smiled up at him. Drugo clutched his head, laughed out loud, and shouted with rapture: "Anya! Anya!" Those were the last words Drugo ever uttered. Forward to Chapter 24 Back to Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four |Chapter Five
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van Drugo stared through the window of a small room on the third floor of the Grotzinger Sanitarium, in the little German village of Vogel. The swift current of a river flowed beneath him from right to left. For some time, he watched the sunlight play on the water; and the shadows from the landscape, from occasional clouds drifted through the clear noonday sky. The water fascinated him. He found it enigmatic. In the path of the sunlight, he seemed to feel deep within him, the water's agile, but also somehow leaden ripples bruise the jumble of ancient stones - the spawn of the steep banks. At the same time, the water in the path of the sunlight had an oily shimmer about it, and looked like the empty bottom of a tin of sardines. He was hungry. He wanted his lunch. He was depressed. He had no idea who he was. His identification papers and passport said that he was Konstantin Konstantinovich Pshenitsin, a grain dealer by occupation. And although that man standing there with the sunlight falling squarely on his thin, rather yellowish, unshaven face had no recollection of anything in his life prior to regaining consciousness on January 5th, one week before -- he somehow doubted that he was Pshenitsin. But if he was not Pshenitsin, who was he, and why did he have papers saying that he was Pshenitsin?
he previous day, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon of January 11th, Comrade Flobov, alias Osip Sudsky, who had been in Germany posing as one of the representatives of the Soviet Agricultural Division, broke into Professor Andrei Sigfridovich Holtz's first floor flat through a window in the back of the house. Flobov knew that Holtz would be in class at the University until 5 o'clock. Considering the time spent in his office afterwards, and then going to a little restaurant between the school and his home where he took his meals each day, the professor would not be arriving at his flat until nearly 7 o'clock.
nroute to Marburg on January 9th, when the train stopped at Minsk, Comrade Flobov was joined by another Cheka operative by the name of Nikolai Mikhailovich Chistkov. As instructed by Uchitelnitsky, Chistkov acted as Pshenitsin/Drugo's supervisor. The name on Chistkov's passport was Igor A. Prisyazhnykh. He was big and he was burley, well over six feet tall, well over 200 pounds. He was in his late twenties.