Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

‘Ophanim and Seraphim’

***

…The Wheel on this cold autumn day is not popular, and the Fairground itself has not recovered sufficiently from the shelling and bombing to attract crowds. A wrecked pleasure place, weeds growing up round the foundations of merry-go-rounds. In the enclosure one stall is selling big thin flat cakes like cart-wheels, and the children queue with coupons. A few courting couples wait and wait on the platform of the Wheel, and then are packed into a single car and revolve slowly above the city with empty cars above and below them. As the loaded car reaches the highest point of the Wheel, the machinery stops for a couple of minutes and leaves them suspended. Looking up Martins can see the tiny faces pressed like flies against a glass. He walks up and down to keep warm. He looks a t his watch. The time is nearly up. Somewhere behind the cake stall someone is whistling. Martins turns quickly. He watches for him to come into sight with fear and excitement. Life to Martins has always quickened when Harry came, as he comes now, as though nothing much has really happened: with an amused geniality, a recognition that his happiness will make the world’s day. Only sometimes the cheerfulness will be suddenly clouded; a melancholy beats through his guard; a memory that this life does not go on. Now he does not make the mistake of offering a hand that might be rejected, but instead just pats Martins on his bandaged hand…

HARRY: How are things? They seem to have been messing you about a bit.

MARTINS: We’ve got to talk, Harry.

HARRY: Of course, old man. This way. He walks straight towards to platform in the absolute confidence that Martins will follow.

MARTINS: Alone. The Wheel has come round again and one lot of passengers is getting out on the opposite platform as another enters the same car from their platform. Harry has always known the ropes everywhere, so now he speaks apart to the Attendant and  money passes. The car with the passengers moves slowly up, an empty car passes, and then the Wheel stops long enough for them to get into the third car, which they have to themselves.

THE BIG WHEEL. Harry looks out of the window of the swaying, rising car at the figures diminishing below them with what looks like genuine commiseration. Very slowly, on one side of them, the city sinks: very slowly on the other, the great cross girders of the Wheel rise into sight. As the horizon slides away the Danube becomes visible, and the piers of the Reichsbrucke lift above the houses.

HARRY: We couldn’t be more alone. Lovers used to do this in the old days but they haven’t the money now, poor devils. He turns from the window. It’s good to see you Holly.

MARTINS: I was at your funeral.

HARRY: That was pretty smart, wasn’t it?

MARTINS: You know what’s happened to Anna? They’ve arrested her.

HARRY: Tough, very tough, but don’t worry, old man. They won’t hurt her.

MARTINS: They are handing her to the Russians. Can’t you help her?

HARRY unconvincingly: What can I do, old man? I’m dead aren’t I. Holly, exactly who did you tell about me?

MARTINS: I told the police!

HARRY: Unwise Holly, unwise.

MARTINS: And Anna…

HARRY: Did the police believe you?

MARTINS: You don’t care anything at all about Anna do you?

HARRY: I’ve got quite a lot on my mind.

MARTINS: You wouldn’t do anything…

HARRY: What do you want me to do? Be reasonable. Do you expect me to give myself up? This is a far far better thing that I do. The old limelight and the fall of the curtain. Holly, you and I aren’t heroes. The world doesn’t make any heroes outside of your stories.

MARTINS: You have your contacts.

HARRY: I’ve got to be so careful! I’m only safe in the Russian Zone. I’m only safe here as long as they can use me.

MARTINS: As long as they can use you? So that’s how they found out about Anna. You told them didn’t you?

HARRY: Don’t try to be a policeman, old man.

MARTINS: What do you expect me to be, part of your…

HARRY: You can have any part you want as long as you don’t interfere. I’ve never cut you out of anything.

MARTINS: I remember when they raided the gambling joint you knew a safe way out.

HARRY chuckling: Sure!

MARTINS: Yeah, safe for you not safe for me.

HARRY: Old man, you never should have gone to the police you know. You ought to leave this thing alone.

MARTINS: Have you ever seen any of your victims?

HARRY: You know I never feel comfortable in these sort of things. Opening the car door. Victims? Don’t be melodramatic. Look down there. Distant people move through the fairground like ants. Would you really feel any pity if one of those dots stopped moving forever? If I offered you twenty thousand pounds for every dot that stopped, would you really, old man, tell me to keep my money or would you start to calculate how many dots you could afford to spare? Free of income tax, old man, free of income tax. It’s the only way you can save money nowadays.

MARTINS: A lot of good your money will do you in jail.

HARRY: That jail is in another zone. There’s no proof against me. Besides you.

MARTINS: I should be pretty easy to get rid of.

HARRY: Pretty easy.

MARTINS: I wouldn’t be too sure.

HARRY: I carry a gun. No one would look for a bullet wound after you hit that ground.

MARTINS: They dug up you coffin.

HARRY: And found Harbin? Pity… Ha ha, Holly what fools we are talking to each other this way. As if I’d ever do anything to you. Or you to me. Closes car door. You’re just a little mixed up about things in general. Nobody thinks in terms of human beings. Governments don’t, why should we? They talk about ‘the people’ or ‘the proletariat’. I talk about ‘the suckers’ or ‘the mugs’, it’s the same thing. They have their five year plans and so have I.

MARTINS: You used to believe in God.

HARRY: Why, I still do believe in God, old man. I believe in God, and mercy, and all that, but the dead are happier dead. They don’t miss much here, poor devils.

– The Third Man, Graham Greene

‘Evil – ‘live’ backwards’

To be continued…