He walked along the shore, gazing at the Manhattan skyline under a blue sky. When he reached wide Atlantic Avenue he realized he was hungry. At a diner he ordered roasted potatoes and herring, drank a soda and then a coffee. It was already evening, though still bright out. He kept trying to remember the address as he walked. He went through several intersections: Pacific Street, Baltic Street, Degraw Street. In a park he sat on a bench and a short while later was lying on his back, asleep. When he opened his eyes there was a policeman staring down at him; in his dream he had felt him grab hold of his arm and start shaking him. Josef walked to the park entrance. It was almost dark now.

He made it to Red Hook, a waterfront neighborhood of squat redbrick houses that reminded him of Düsseldorf. Past the houses were piers and seedy red warehouses that opened up to the boat landings. Large, crooked cranes like dying insects. He was greeted by the smell of oil, the palpable sense of frenzied activity, of men running this way and that. They were stacking wooden crates, brief, throaty shouts and orders flying back and forth. Workers stood under the awning of a loading platform, their shoes stained with the juice of crushed red berries. One stuck a cigarette in his mouth, then a strawberry. He looked at him, and Josef promptly stumbled over a few iron rods.

In a loud sailors’ bar he treated himself to a drink, and another soon after the first. All around him were faces reddened by salt, wind, and drink. A drunk chatter filled the air. He knew the contacts hung around here. He just wanted to have a look, he told himself. A life that wasn’t meant for him anyway and that he would soon leave behind—but after his third drink, that was his steadfast conviction: yes, he wanted a new life. The bartender had gotten into an argument with two sailors. One hand resting on his hip, the other on the beer tap, he claimed that America wouldn’t take part in the coming war, no way, not this time. Europe would have to work things out on its own. The sailors disagreed. Outside, men were shouting at each other. A line of ants crawled across the wooden bar. He paid.