The Sacrifice Page #3

I've put everything in order,

Mrs Adelaide. Can I go now?

Yes, yes, Maria. Thank you.

Oh, yes! Do you think

you might just warm the plates?

Julia can do the rest.

Yes, Mrs Adelaide.

I'll put the plates to warm at once.

I'll warm the plates. Then can I go?

Is there anything more?

No, no! You may go.

Julia's still here.

Oh, one more thing!

Would you put the candles

on the table?

Then you may go... You have

opened the wine, haven't you?

Well, open it.

Then you won't be needed.

The plates, the candles, the wine.

We're neighbours, she and I.

We're acquainted.

Indeed? Congratulations.

She came from Iceland

a few years ago.

Really?

She is very odd.

Who?

Maria.

Yes, Maria.

Sometimes she scares me.

It must've been lovely when men

thought the world looked like this!

This Europe looks more like Mars.

That is, it has nothing

to do with truth.

No! But people lived then!

And not badly, either.

But wait, what's the date...

...today?

It's best we put the map away now.

Otto, will you help me?

I have a feeling that our maps have

nothing to do with truth, either.

What truth?

You keep going on about truth.

- Truth! What is truth?

- There's no such thing!

We look, but don't see.

Here comes a cockroach...

A cockroach!

Par exemple, madame!

Excusez-moi!

Here comes a cockroach

running 'round a plate.

He fancies that he's moving forward

with a definite purpose.

How do you know

what a cockroach thinks?

It could be a ritual.

- Yes!

- His own.

Aha. "Could be."

Anything could be.

"Could be"!

Otherwise, all we're left with

is this "truth", "truth".

- Can I help?

- No, that's fine.

Let's put it there, Otto.

A fantastic map!

I'm glad you think so.

It's a first class chart.

Where's Little Man?

Where's the boy?

I don't know.

He was here just a moment ago.

- Shall I look?

- No, no.

He seemed down to me.

- Something wrong?

- I'll be right back.

Dinner's ready.

You said you had more time

for your interests...

What did you mean?

Huh?

Take it easy.

I think I saw him a moment ago.

- I'm sort of a collector.

- Are you?

What do you mean, "sort of"?

How shall I put it?

I collect incidents.

Things that are unexplainable

but true.

I need a lot of time, though,

to gather evidence that they're true.

I need to travel, too,

and I need money for it.

That's why I'm a postman... as well.

Unexplainable?

Little Man should be here.

He loves stories like this.

Does he, indeed?

But still...

I don't really understand.

Well, for example...

No, not that one.

How about this one...

It happened before the war.

In Knigsberg,

a widow was living with her son.

But then war broke out, and the boy

was drafted. He was 1 8 years old.

They decided to see a photographer

and have a keepsake photo taken.

The mother and her son

were photographed together.

Then the boy...

the boy was sent off...

to the front.

A few days later, he was killed.

Good Lord!

In the midst

of all the commotion and calamity

the widow, of course,

forgot about the photos.

"Of course"? Why,

how could she forget such a thing?

- It's not important.

- No, it's not very important at all.

The fact is, this woman

never collected the photographs.

The war ended. She moved to another

town, far from her memories.

But didn't she even try

to find the photographer?

It was her last photo of her son!

But do let him make his point!

Sorry.

- Mummy...!

- I'll be quiet. Sorry!

It doesn't matter.

Some years later...

I think it was in 1 9 60...

the widow visited a photographer

to have her own photo taken.

She intended to give it to a friend.

The photo was taken,

but when she got the prints

she saw not only herself on them,

but her dead son, too.

In the photos, he was 18

and she was as old as she was

when these last photos were taken.

Did it happen like that?

Just as you told us?

Yes. That's how it happened.

How did you check it?

I've spoken with the woman.

And I have the photo

showing her in 1960

and her son in a 1940s uniform.

Oh, dear God!

And besides...

I have a copy

of his birth certificate

and an official copy

of the notice of death.

Are you pulling our leg?

No, by no means!

I have about 300 similar incidents.

We are simply blind.

We see nothing.

What was that? What do you think?

Are you ill?

No...

nothing's wrong.

It was only an evil angel passing by,

who saw fit to touch me.

And you see fit to joke with us, eh?

Mr Postman?

There are jokes and JOKES, Doctor.

There's nothing to joke about here.

"Which of you have done this?"

"The Lords...?"

Maria!

Who made that?

Little Man.

Little Man, really?

- Where is he?

- He's upstairs.

I think he's in his room.

That's good.

But what is it?

He made it for you.

It's his birthday present to you.

It was he and Otto, the postman,

who built it together.

Don't say that I told you,

Mr Alexander.

He wanted to show it off himself.

I'll go now.

Many happy returns!

Go home now! It's so damp out.

- May I come in?

- Yes, come in!

Oh, it's you. Come in!

Things are almost ready downstairs.

What on earth's that?

What's what?

The picture, there.

On the wall. What is it?

I can't see it clearly.

It's behind glass and it's so dark.

It's the Adoration

of the Three Kings

by Leonardo.

A reproduction, of course.

My God, how sinister it is!

I've always been terrified

of Leonardo.

...are now being

organised nationwide...

This is even the duty

of all officers in the army.

Every responsible citizen...

is expected to behave

with courage...

to keep a cool head...

and to help the army...

in its efforts

to re-establish peace,

order, and discipline.

The only dangerous enemy

in our midst at the moment,

is panic.

It is contagious,

and won't allow itself

to be ruled by common sense.

Order and organisation...

and nothing less, good Citizens!

Only order... order...

against this chaos.

I beg you, I humbly appeal

to your courage and...

in spite of all...

to your common sense.

Shall we eat? And wake the boy?

We have here, unfortunately...

such a base,

with four missile warheads...

And it is very likely...

that these warheads,

tragically enough...

What's this?

... will be used against us.

Communications may be broken

at any time...

but I have told you

what is most important...

...my fellow citizens.

You are to stay where you are.

There is no place in all of Europe...

that is safer

than where we are now.

In this regard,

we are all forced

into the same situation.

All districts will be

under the control

of special military units...

so that... so that...

Surely, this isn't...!

Shouldn't one do something?

I've waited for this all my life.

My whole life has been

one long wait, for this!

Don't touch me! Do something!

You men!

Why don't you say something?

Can't we do something?

Mama, please calm down!

My God!

Victor!

At least you could do something!

Please!

The boy is asleep.

He mustn't be awakened!

It's all my fault!

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