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Page 22
"What now, then?", Gregor asked himself as he looked round
in the darkness. He soon made the discovery that he could
no longer move at all. This was no surprise to him, it
seemed rather that being able to actually move around on
those spindly little legs until then was unnatural. He also
felt relatively comfortable. It is true that his entire
body was aching, but the pain seemed to be slowly getting
weaker and weaker and would finally disappear altogether.
He could already hardly feel the decayed apple in his back
or the inflamed area around it, which was entirely covered
in white dust. He thought back of his family with emotion
and love. If it was possible, he felt that he must go away
even more strongly than his sister. He remained in this
state of empty and peaceful rumination until he heard the
clock tower strike three in the morning. He watched as it
slowly began to get light everywhere outside the window too.
Then, without his willing it, his head sank down completely,
and his last breath flowed weakly from his nostrils.
When the cleaner came in early in the morning - they'd often
asked her not to keep slamming the doors but with her
strength and in her hurry she still did, so that everyone in
the flat knew when she'd arrived and from then on it was
impossible to sleep in peace - she made her usual brief look
in on Gregor and at first found nothing special. She
thought he was laying there so still on purpose, playing the
martyr; she attributed all possible understanding to him.
She happened to be holding the long broom in her hand, so
she tried to tickle Gregor with it from the doorway. When
she had no success with that she tried to make a nuisance of
herself and poked at him a little, and only when she found
she could shove him across the floor with no resistance at
all did she start to pay attention. She soon realised what
had really happened, opened her eyes wide, whistled to
herself, but did not waste time to yank open the bedroom
doors and shout loudly into the darkness of the bedrooms:
"Come and 'ave a look at this, it's dead, just lying there,
stone dead!"
Mr. and Mrs. Samsa sat upright there in their marriage bed
and had to make an effort to get over the shock caused by
the cleaner before they could grasp what she was saying.
But then, each from his own side, they hurried out of bed.
Mr. Samsa threw the blanket over his shoulders, Mrs. Samsa
just came out in her nightdress; and that is how they went
into Gregor's room. On the way they opened the door to the
living room where Grete had been sleeping since the three
gentlemen had moved in; she was fully dressed as if she had
never been asleep, and the paleness of her face seemed to
confirm this. "Dead?", asked Mrs. Samsa, looking at the
charwoman enquiringly, even though she could have checked
for herself and could have known it even without checking.
"That's what I said", replied the cleaner, and to prove it
she gave Gregor's body another shove with the broom, sending
it sideways across the floor. Mrs. Samsa made a movement as
if she wanted to hold back the broom, but did not complete
it. "Now then", said Mr. Samsa, "let's give thanks to God
for that". He crossed himself, and the three women followed
his example.
Grete, who had not taken her eyes from the corpse, said:
"Just look how thin he was. He didn't eat anything for so
long. The food came out again just the same as when it went
in". Gregor's body was indeed completely dried up and flat,
they had not seen it until then, but now he was not lifted
up on his little legs, nor did he do anything to make them
look away.
"Grete, come with us in here for a little while", said Mrs.
Samsa with a pained smile, and Grete followed her parents
into the bedroom but not without looking back at the body.
The cleaner shut the door and opened the window wide.
Although it was still early in the morning the fresh air had
something of warmth mixed in with it. It was already the
end of March, after all.
The three gentlemen stepped out of their room and looked
round in amazement for their breakfasts; they had been
forgotten about. "Where is our breakfast?", the middle
gentleman asked the cleaner irritably. She just put her
finger on her lips and made a quick and silent sign to the
men that they might like to come into Gregor's room. They
did so, and stood around Gregor's corpse with their hands in
the pockets of their well-worn coats. It was now quite
light in the room.
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