The Diary of Anne Frank, continued
[MR. FRANK hurries over as MR. KRALER and DUSSEL come up. DUSSEL is a man in his late fifties, meticulous, finicky . . . bewildered now. He wears a raincoat. He carries a briefcase, stuffed full, and a small medicine case.]
Mr. Frank. Come in, Mr. Dussel.
Mr. Kraler. This is Mr. Frank.
Dussel. Mr. Otto Frank?
Mr. Frank. Yes. Let me take your things. (He takes the hat and briefcase, but DUSSEL clings to his medicine case.) This is my wife, Edith . . . Mr. and Mrs. Van Daan . . . their son, Peter . . . and my daughters, Margot and Anne.
[DUSSEL shakes hands with everyone.]
Mr. Kraler. Thank you, Mr. Frank. Thank you all. Mr. Dussel, I leave you in good hands. Oh . . . Dirk’s coat.
[DUSSEL hurriedly takes off the raincoat, giving it to MR. KRALER. Underneath is his white dentist’s jacket, with a yellow Star of David on
it.]
Dussel (to MR. KRALER). What can I say to thank you . . . ?
Mrs. Frank (to DUSSEL). Mr. Kraler and Miep . . . They’re our lifeline. Without them we couldn’t live.
Mr. Kraler. Please. Please. You make us seem very heroic. It isn’t that at all. We simply don’t like the Nazis. (To MR. FRANK, who offers him a drink) No, thanks. (Then, going on) We don’t like their methods. We don’t like . . .
Mr. Frank (smiling). I know. I know. “No one’s going to tell us Dutchmen what to do with our damn Jews!”
Mr. Kraler (to DUSSEL). Pay no attention to Mr. Frank. I’ll be up tomorrow to see that they’re treating you right.
(To MR. FRANK) Don’t trouble to come down again. Peter will bolt the door after me, won’t you, Peter?
Peter. Yes, sir.
Mr. Frank. Thank you, Peter. I’ll do it.
Mr. Kraler. Good night. Good night.
Group. Good night, Mr. Kraler. We’ll see you tomorrow. (Etc., etc.)
[MR. KRALER goes out with MR. FRANK. MRS. FRANK gives each one of the “grown-ups” a glass of cognac.]
Mrs. Frank. Please, Mr. Dussel, sit down.
[DUSSEL sinks into a chair. MRS. FRANK gives him a glass of cognac.]
Dussel. I’m dreaming. I know it. I can’t believe my eyes. Mr. Otto Frank here!
(To MRS. FRANK) You’re not in Switzerland, then? A woman told me . . . She said she’d gone to your house . . . the door was open, everything was in disorder, dishes in the sink. She said she found a piece of paper in the wastebasket with an address scribbled on it . . . an address in
Zurich. She said you must have escaped to Zurich.
Anne. Father put that there purposely . . . just so people would think that very thing!
Dussel. And you’ve been here all the time?
Mrs. Frank. All the time . . . ever since July
[ANNE speaks to her father as he comes back.]
Anne. It worked, Pim . . . the address you left! Mr. Dussel says that people believe we escaped to Switzerland.
Mr. Frank. I’m glad. . . . And now let’s have a little drink to welcome Mr. Dussel. (Before they can drink, DUSSEL bolts his drink. MR. FRANK smiles and raises his glass.) To Mr. Dussel. Welcome. We’re very honored to have you with us.
Mrs. Frank. To Mr. Dussel, welcome.
[The VAN DAANS murmur a welcome. The “grown-ups” drink.]
Mrs. Van Daan. Um. That was good.
Mr. Van Daan. Did Mr. Kraler warn you that you won’t get much to eat here? You can imagine . . . three ration books among the seven of us . . . and now you make eight.
[PETER walks away, humiliated. Outside, a street organ is heard dimly.]
Dussel (rising). Mr. Van Daan, you don’t realize what is happening outside that you should warn me of a thing like that. You don’t realize what’s going on. . . .
(As MR. VAN DAAN starts his characteristic pacing, DUSSEL turns to speak to the
others.) Right here in Amsterdam every day hundreds of Jews disappear.... They surround a block and search house by house. Children come home from school to find their parents gone. Hundreds are being deported . .
. people that you and I know . . . the Hallensteins . . . the Wessels . . .
Mrs. Frank (in tears). Oh, no. No!
Dussel. They get their call-up notice . . . come to the Jewish theater on such and such a day and hour . . . bring only what you can carry in a rucksack. And if you refuse the call-up notice, then they come and drag you from your home and ship you off to Mauthausen. The death camp!
Mrs. Frank. We didn’t know that things had got so much worse.
Dussel. Forgive me for speaking so.
Anne (coming to DUSSEL). Do you know the de Waals? . . . What’s become of them? Their daughter Jopie and I are in the same class. Jopie’s my best friend.
Dussel. They are gone.
Anne. Gone?
Dussel. With all the others.
Anne. Oh, no. Not Jopie!
[She turns away, in tears. MRS. FRANK motions to MARGOT to comfort her. MARGOT goes to ANNE, putting her arms comfortingly around her.]
Mrs. Van Daan. There were some people called Wagner. They lived near us . . . ?
Mr. Frank (interrupting, with a glance at ANNE). I think we should put this off until later. We all have many questions we want to ask. . . . But I’m sure that Mr. Dussel would like to get settled before supper.
Dussel. Thank you. I would. I brought very little with me.
Mr. Frank (giving him his hat and briefcase). I’m sorry we can’t give you a room alone. But I hope you won’t be too uncomfortable. We’ve had to make strict rules here . . . a schedule of hours . . . We’ll tell you after supper. Anne, would you like to take Mr. Dussel to his room?
Anne (controlling her tears). If you’ll come with me, Mr. Dussel? (She starts for her room.)
Dussel (shaking hands with each in turn). Forgive me if I haven’t really expressed my gratitude to all of you. This has been such a shock to me. I’d always thought of myself as Dutch. I was born in Holland. My father was born in Holland, and my grandfather. And now . . . after all these years . . . (He breaks off.) If you’ll excuse me.
[DUSSEL gives a little bow and hurries off after ANNE. MR. FRANK and the others are subdued.]
Anne (turning on the light). Well, here we are.
[DUSSEL looks around the room. In the main room MARGOT speaks to her mother.]
Margot. The news sounds pretty bad, doesn’t it? It’s so different from what Mr. Kraler tells us. Mr. Kraler says things are improving.
Mr. Van Daan. I like it better the way Kraler tells it.
[They resume their occupations, quietly. PETER goes off into his room. In ANNE’s room, ANNE turns to DUSSEL.]
Anne. You’re going to share the room with me.
Dussel. I’m a man who’s always lived alone. I haven’t had to adjust myself to others. I hope you’ll bear with me until I learn.
Anne. Let me help you. (She takes his briefcase.) Do you always live all alone? Have you no family at all?
Dussel. No one. (He opens his medicine case and spreads his bottles on the dressing table.)
Anne. How dreadful. You must be terribly lonely.
Dussel. I’m used to it.
Anne. I don’t think I could ever get used to it. Didn’t you even have a pet? A cat, or a dog?
Dussel. I have an allergy for fur-bearing ani-mals. They give me asthma.
Anne. Oh, dear. Peter has a cat.
Dussel. Here? He has it here?
Anne. Yes. But we hardly ever see it. He keeps it in his room all the time. I’m sure it will be all right.
Dussel. Let us hope so. (He takes some pills to fortify himself.)
Anne. That’s Margot’s bed, where you’re going to sleep. I sleep on the sofa there. (Indicating the clothes hooks on the wall) We cleared these off for your things. (She goes over to the window.) The best part about this room . . . you can look down and see a bit of the street and the canal. There’s a houseboat . . . you can see the end of it . . . a bargeman lives there with his family . . . They have a baby and he’s just beginning to walk and I’m so afraid he’s going to fall into the canal someday. I watch him . . .
Dussel (interrupting). Your father spoke of a schedule.
Anne (coming away from the window). Oh, yes. It’s mostly about the times we have to be quiet. And times for the w.c. You can use it now if you like.
Dussel (stiffly). No, thank you.
Anne. I suppose you think it’s awful, my talking about a thing like that. But you don’t know how important it can get to be, especially when you’re frightened. . . . About this room, the way Margot and I did . . . she had it to herself in the afternoons for studying, reading . . . lessons, you know . . . and I took the mornings. Would that be all right with you?
Dussel. I’m not at my best in the morning.
Anne. You stay here in the mornings, then. I’ll take the room in the afternoons.
Dussel. Tell me, when you’re in here, what happens to me? Where am I spending my time? In there, with all the people?
Anne. Yes.
Dussel. I see. I see.
Anne. We have supper at half past six.
Dussel (going over to the sofa). Then, if you don’t mind . . . I like to lie down quietly for ten minutes before eating. I find it helps the digestion.
Anne. Of course. I hope I’m not going to be too much of a bother to you. I seem to be able to get everyone’s back up.
[DUSSEL lies down on the sofa, curled up, his back to her.]
Dussel. I always get along very well with children. My patients all bring their children to me, because they know I get on well with them. So don’t you worry about that.
[ANNE leans over him, taking his hand and shaking it gratefully.]
Anne. Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Dussel.
[The lights dim to darkness. The curtain falls on the scene. ANNE’s
voice comes to us, faintly at first and then with increasing power.]
Anne’s Voice. . . . And yesterday I finished Cissy Van Marxvelt’s latest book. I think she is a first-class writer. I shall definitely let my children read her. Monday, the twenty-first of September, nineteen forty-two. Mr. Dussel and I had another battle yesterday. Yes, Mr. Dussel! According to him, nothing, I repeat . . . nothing is right about me . . . my appearance, my character, my manners. While he was going on at me, I thought . . . sometime I’ll give you such a smack that you’ll fly right up to the ceiling! Why is it that every grown-up thinks he knows the way to bring up children? Particularly the grown-ups that never had any. I keep wishing that Peter was a girl instead of a boy. Then I would have someone to talk to. Margot’s a darling, but she takes everything too seriously. To pause for a moment on the subject of Mrs. Van Daan. I must tell you that her attempts to flirt with Father are getting her nowhere. Pim, thank goodness, won’t play.
[As she is saying the last lines, the curtain rises on the darkened scene. ANNE’s
voice fades out.]
(Scene 3 page 3)
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