Contents ( 98)
- Contents
- CAST OF CHARACTERS
- PART ONE
- WALL
- 1961
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- PART TWO
- BUG
- 1961–1962
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- PART THREE
- ISLAND
- 1962
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- PART FOUR
- GUN
- 1963
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- PART FIVE
- SONG
- 1963–1967
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- PART SIX
- FLOWER
- 1968
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- PART SEVEN
- TAPE
- 1972–1974
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- PART EIGHT
- YARD
- 1976–1983
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- PART NINE
- BOMB
- 1984–1987
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- PART TEN
- WALL
- 1988–1989
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- EPILOGUE
- November 4, 2008
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The audience went quiet.
“It was my first guitar. In those days I had only one. Broke my guitar, broke my heart. So, you see, I know about Communism. I probably know more about it than Lyndon Johnson. I hate Communism.” He raised his voice a little. “And I’m still against the war.”
They broke out into cheers again.
“You know some people believe Jesus is coming back to earth one day. I don’t know if that’s true.” They were uneasy with this, not sure how to take it. Then Walli said: “If he comes to America he’ll probably be called a Communist.”
He glanced sideways at Beep, who was laughing along with the rest. She was wearing a sweater and a short but respectable skirt. Her hair was cut in a neat bob. She was still sexy, though: she could not hide that.
“Jesus will probably be arrested by the FBI for un-American activities,” Walli went on. “But he won’t be surprised: it’s pretty similar to what happened to him the first time he came to earth.”
Walli had hardly planned beyond his first sentence, and now he was making it up as he went along, but they were delighted. However, he decided to quit while he was ahead.
He had prepared his ending. “I just came here to say one thing to you, and that’s: Thank you. Thank you on behalf of millions of people all over the world who want to end this evil war. We appreciate the hard work you’re doing here. Keep it up, and I hope to God you win. Good night.”
He stepped back from the microphone. Beep came up to him and took his arm, and together they left by the back door, with cheers and applause still ringing out. As soon as they were in Dave’s car, Beep said: “My God—you were brilliant! You should run for president!”
He smiled and shrugged. “People are always pleased to find that a pop star is a human being. That’s really all it is.”
“But you spoke sincerely—and you were so witty!”
“Thanks.”
“Maybe you get it from your mother. Didn’t you tell me she was in politics?”
“Not really. There’s no normal politics in East Germany. She was a city councilor, before the Communists cracked down. By the way, did you notice my accent?”
“Just a little bit.”
“I was afraid of that.” He was sensitive about his accent. People associated it with Nazis in war movies. He tried to speak like an American, but it was difficult.
“Actually it’s charming,” Beep said. “I wish Dave could have heard you.”
“Where is he, anyway?”
“London, I think. I imagined you would know.”
Walli shrugged. “I know he’s taking care of business somewhere. He’ll show up as soon as we need to write some songs, or make a film, or go on the road again. I thought you two were going to get married.”
“We are. We just haven’t gotten around to it yet, he’s been so busy. And, you know, my parents are cool about us sharing a bedroom when he’s here, so it’s not like we’re desperate to get away from them.”