Free The Motion Demon by Stefan Grabinski, Miroslaw Lipinski Page A

an hour in the same position.
    ‘Going far?’ he started the conversation.
    The Jew, excavated from his sleepy meditations, looked at him reluctantly, drowsily.
    ‘To Rajbrod,’ he yawned out, stroking his long ginger beard.
    ‘So you’re going south, towards the mountains. I’m also going in that direction. Beautiful scenery! Just ravines, forests, foothills. But one has to be very vigilant during the ride,’ he added, changing from an enthusiastic to a cautionary tone.
    ‘And why is that?’ asked the perturbed Jew.
    ‘That region is a bit dangerous; you see, sir, there are always these forests, mountains, ravines. Apparently, from time to time, robbers turn up.’
    ‘ Aj, aj ,’ groaned out the Orthodox Jew.
    ‘Well—not frequently—but caution can never hurt,’ calmed Kluczka. ‘It’s best to ride in one of the middle cars and not inside a compartment but in the corridor.’
    ‘Why, sir?’
    ‘It’s easier to get out if something happens; a quicker means of escape. Through the window—hop!—into the fields, and you’re gone!’
    Kluczka brightened up considerably and, eyes sparkling with gusto, he started to unfold before his fellow passenger images of the potential dangers that could threaten travellers in that area. Kluczka was passing through a ‘warning phase’, or, as he liked to call it, ‘a position as a danger signal’. It was the first interlude, as it were, which was always played out in the waiting room, to which he returned after carrying out the first symbolic ride to K. Usually the victim of this ominous constellation of Kluczka’s soul was the closest fellow traveller, male or female, who chanced to be in his proximity. Kluczka exerted himself into thinking of a thousand possible and impossible dangers, which he painted most artistically with the irresistible strength of his suggestion. And not just once would he get an unusual result; several times after such a conversation some terrified Honourable Lady would cancel her trip, delaying it until ‘more peaceful times’, or, if the ride was unavoidably necessary, with a devout sigh she would slip an envelope containing an offering inside the railway moneybox that bore the sign: ‘For a Safe Journey’….
    The impulses that directed Kluczka in his warning phase were of a nature quite complex and unclear. Unquestionably, a certain role was played here by a desire of vengeance against the ‘lucky ones’, as he called those travellers who were riding ‘in truth’—a desire deeply latent in his heart, one to which he would reluctantly have admitted; at the same time, other feelings were called into play, giving the entire tangle a special atmosphere. In spreading out before his victims’ eyes the potential dangers of a train trip, Kluczka experienced together with them these intense experiences, attaining in this manner a surrogate perception of riding. Thus this warning phase was mixed in with his longings and impressions of travel, and train travel was his primary concern….
    The station clock tolled the sixth hour. In the hall movement started. Sleepy passengers leaned out from corners and, shaking off their drowsiness, they nervously grabbed their luggage, making their way to the glass doors leading to the platform.
    Kluczka broke off in the middle of his sentence, adjusted his coat, straightened up, and with a bouncy step neared the departure gate. The porter retreated under the onrush of impatient customers, withdrawing to the depths of the platform. The crowds poured outside, carrying with them the already-irritated Kluczka. Shoving his way through the doors, Kluczka was met by the ironic glance of a functionary, but he pretended to be too distracted to notice.
    ‘Damn it!’ he thought, overtaking some gentleman. The train had already ridden up with bravado before the station, throwing lengthy white funnels of steam off to the sides.
    Since the crush was less this time, Kluczka easily occupied an excellent