They’ve finished their rolls. His mouth is very dry. Carl is sitting in the truck again. He runs a comb through his hair, checks the result in the rearview mirror. “This new hair tonic really is good. Are you coming?”

Josef gets in. In that same instant Carl starts the motor.

“By the way, some of my customers I’m not especially happy to do business with,” says Carl suddenly, and waits until he gets a nod from Josef. “Some of them have a certain past. You understand?”

He understands. He understands and tosses his cigarette butt out the window.

“Now to Michalowski,” says Carl.

“Ah, Maikelowski,” says Josef, joking around, and Carl laughs, “Yes, to your pal Maikelowski.”

“Your brother picked quite the time to come back—everything’s ruined. Can you believe it?” Old Michalowski laughs.

“Life has a way of playing tricks on you,” says Carl.

“I’m just here visiting,” says Josef.

Carl looks at him, taken aback, and then hands the delivery note across the table. “If I could get your signature here, please, Herr Michalowski.”

“Just visiting? I wish I were myself. But where’s a person supposed to go? All of Europe is in ruins now.”

“You can say that again,” Carl agrees. “Another signature here, please.”

“So where are you headed, then?” Old Michalowski won’t let it go.

“Buenos Aires.”

Carl lets out a sound that turns into a cough.

“Can you live there? As a German?” asks Michalowski.

“The Argentine government is very well-disposed toward Germans.”

“But you have to learn the language, of course. Portuguese?”

“Spanish.”

“Then you’ll be able to speak three languages—German, English, and Spanish. My lord! You’ve had quite the exciting life! Makes a man start to get jealous, doesn’t it?”

Carl won’t look at either of them. Now he starts fumbling with the papers. “We have to go, I’m afraid.”

His voice is shaky. Josef should have told him earlier. And not like this.

When they get back in the truck Carl knocks his knee against the steering wheel and curses softly. When he’s calmed down, Josef says, “There’s no future for me here.”

“Why not?”

“Just look around. What am I supposed to do here?”

Carl cranks the ignition. He’s silent the rest of the way home.

“Get out.”

Carl parks the truck behind the house. Josef waits at the front door. He doesn’t want to walk into the house alone. Carl comes up to join him and says as he walks, “Just how are you going to pay for it? And without papers on top of that?”

“I don’t know yet.” He’s lying. He knows exactly how. He just has to stop stalling and call Dörsam.

“You could also work for me. Take your time. Give it some thought.”