Chaperoned

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Chaperoned Page 4

by Dora Heldt


  “I’m going to the bridge to ask the captain. What on earth are you giggling about?”

  Dorothea tried to answer. “About…your…mother…I…” She was overcome with laughter now. It was infectious; she started me off, too.

  My father was baffled. “But you didn’t even know my mother.”

  He was interrupted by a waiter who suddenly appeared by the table.

  “So, what can I get you?”

  “Well, do you know the specifications of this ship?”

  The waiter was Vietnamese. He gave us a friendly smile.

  “I can only help with food and drinks.”

  “Good, then I’d like two sausages and a Coca-Cola. And if you two can pull yourselves together and decide what you’re having, then this young man can get on with his job and serve the other customers, too.”

  I was suddenly serious again. “Since when do you drink soda?”

  “Since forever. It’s just that your mother thinks it’s fattening, so she never buys it.”

  “But I wasn’t allowed to drink it when I was a child.”

  “Nonsense, it didn’t even exist back then.”

  Dorothea couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Heinz, soda has been around much longer than Christine.”

  “Really? Then I guess she didn’t like it. Well then, Chrissie, have one now.”

  The waiter stood there with a friendly smile.

  “I’d like a mineral water, please. And I did like soda.”

  My father wrinkled his forehead and looked at Dorothea.

  “Sometimes I just don’t understand her. Well, will you have a soda with me at least?”

  I pictured the deformed gummi bear and felt like I should warn them about the perils of drinking soda. But then I reminded myself that I was forty-five years old, and a bit irritable.

  The ferry had set off and was making its way to Nordeney. Astonishingly, almost all the passengers had found seats. There were only a few stragglers looking for a place.

  My gaze fell on two women laughing and talking loudly with one another. It wasn’t just the shrill noise that captured my attention but their outrageous outfits. They must have been in their early sixties. The shorter of the two had her hair in an updo, the kind I’d last seen on my Aunt Anke at my parents’ legendary parties. The whole look was vintage 1970s, with masses of rhinestone-covered hairpins, hairspray, and corkscrew curls bobbing around in front of her ears. She wore red patent leather heels and a button-up, knee-length quilted jacket—despite the fact that it was still in the high seventies outside. The other woman was a head taller and her hair was back-combed, chin length, and carrot red. So red it was practically glowing. Her clothes would have stood out even in the seventies: a pink wool skirt, red sweater, orange poncho, yellow shawl, and colorfully patterned tights. And everything was striped.

  Dorothea noticed my look of disbelief and craned her head to see what was causing it. Once she realized, she took a sharp intake of breath. I tried to keep a straight face.

  “Well, Dorothea,” I said, “what does an experienced costume designer say to a look like that?”

  Before she could answer, my father spoke up. “Have you seen those two women?”

  Dorothea cleared her throat. “Pretty colorful, huh?”

  My father looked at the explosion of color, lost in thought. “I think they look lovely. I mean, your mother always looks lovely too, but sometimes she dresses a little too drearily.”

  I reminded myself to tell Dorothea about my father’s color-blindness as soon as possible. If I didn’t, there could be even bigger misunderstandings.

  The sausages successfully distracted my father from his plan to go up to the bridge. Relieved, I looked out the window. I could already make out some of the taller buildings on the island. Suddenly, my father stood up.

  “I’m just going to the toilet, back in a moment.”

  He looked around searchingly, so I pointed him in the right direction. He smiled, then headed off. I took a deep breath. “Now do you see why I was against this?” I asked Dorothea.

  Dorothea laughed. “Oh, come on, I think Heinz is funny. He means well, he just gets into trouble now and then.”

  “Well, you could put it like that.”

  I didn’t want to get overly analytical about our relationship, nor be disloyal, but he wasn’t as harmless as she seemed to think. But then again, why worry her? Dorothea pointed toward Nordeney and then up at the sky.

  “Look at that: summer, island, sea. I’m so pleased we told Marleen we’d come. How’s she doing, anyway? Has she gotten over separating from her boyfriend?”

  “I think so. But she’s had so much going on that I doubt she’s had much time to think about it.”

  “Then we’re all single at the same time for the first time ever! Maybe something will happen this summer. Wouldn’t that be great? A really lovely summer romance.”

  “With Heinz in tow?”

  Dorothea laughed. “Well, we’ll have to shake him off now and then, like you must have when you were a teenager.”

  I was just thinking about the fact that the next two weeks would be quite similar, when I realized my dad had been gone a long time. My heart stopped for a second.

  “Where is he? Has he fallen overboard or gone up to the bridge after all?”

  I was just about to start my search when I saw him. He was winding his way back toward us with a big smile, his Paul Newman eyes sparkling, and the two colorful dames in tow. The one with the quilted coat was right behind him, and the colorful ball of wool was following her.

  “Dorothea,” I warned, “pull yourself together now, otherwise you’ll get another fit of the giggles.”

  She turned around just as the trio reached our table. Heinz stopped and pointed to us with a grand gesture.

  “Ladies, here we are. May I do the introductions? This is my daughter Christine and her friend Dorothea. Girls, this is Frau Klüppersberg and Frau Weidemann-Zapek, who I’ve invited to join us for a drink. So come on, scooch along and make some room.”

  Speechless, we made room on the bench. My father sat down next to Frau Klüppersberg, which earned her a poisonous look from Frau Weidemann-Zapek. Dorothea was the first to compose herself.

  “Heinz, I don’t think we can order anything else now; we’ve already paid, and the ship will be docking soon.”

  My father looked out the window. The harbor was right in front of us.

  “So it is. Oh well, later then. We’ll make up for it another time.”

  He smiled—a little cheekily, I thought. The Fraus Klüppersberg and Weidemann-Zapek offered fake-sounding giggles. Dorothea gazed straight ahead, so as not to laugh. In an attempt to save her, I started to talk.

  “Is this your first time on Nordeney?”

  “Yes, the first time for both of us,” answered Frau Weidemann-Zapek. “You know, my friend and I travel a lot—we love it—but we’ve always gone south before. We’re sun babies.” She laughed, a little too shrilly.

  Sun babies, I thought, looking at Frau Klüppersberg. Literally everything she had on was striped and, at close proximity, even more colorful. She interpreted my look as encouragement.

  “But this summer we decided to conquer the North Sea. And if we can meet someone as charming as your lovely father on the first day, and in such a fun way, then it’s got to be a good sign.”

  I wasn’t overly eager to hear what was so amusing about how the charming man in question had picked them up, but they decided not to spare me. As I shot a desperate look at Dorothea, who was still working hard to keep a straight face, my father started telling the story.

  “Yes, it really was funny. I opened the toilet door just as the ferry started to rock back and forth. I stumbled and crashed right into Frau Weidemann-Zapek. She fell over with me on top of her, and then Frau Klüppersberg helped me get back up.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Frau Klüppersberg nodded, beaming. “Fortunately, Mechthild wasn’t hurt. After all, she h
ad that thick quilted coat on, and it cushioned the impact really well.”

  Dorothea started to have a coughing fit. I realized my mouth had fallen open, and shut it quickly.

  Mechthild Weidemann-Zapek looked at her friend poisonously. They seemed to be in competition, but of course my father was oblivious to it. He turned to face them.

  “Whereabouts on the island are you ladies staying?”

  “In Haus Theda,” they answered in unison, “on Kaiser Strasse.”

  This was all too much for Dorothea, and she jumped up. “Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom, can I squeeze by?”

  Mechthild stood up and let Dorothea by. She practically ran over to the exit. My father watched her go.

  “Hopefully she’s not seasick. I mean, we’re almost in the harbor now.”

  “Calm down, Dad, I’m sure she’s not.”

  “Ladies’ problems perhaps,” he said quietly, in a conspiratorial tone. “Anyway, she’ll be fine. So, where were we? Oh yes, Kaiser Strasse. Where exactly?”

  “Haus Theda.”

  He thought for a moment. Then his face lit up.

  “I don’t believe it. What are the chances! That’s Marleen’s place. You know, we’re on our way there. We’re all giving her a helping hand with renovating her restaurant. So, in a way, we’re your hosts.”

  Unable to keep a straight face, I ran off to the restroom, too.

  I found Dorothea standing in front of the washbasin and running cold water over her wrists. As she saw me in the mirror, she started to laugh again. In a second, my self-control was gone too. Laughing so much we couldn’t even speak, we slid down the wall and tried to wipe away our tears. As I laughed, I felt a release from the day’s frustration. Maybe this trip would be okay—if I had Dorothea there to help me laugh at my father’s antics, he wouldn’t drive me as crazy. Then an announcement came over the loudspeaker.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your vehicles, we’ll shortly be docking in Nordeney.”

  Dorothea took a deep breath. “Oh, heavens! This is unbelievable. Come on, hopefully we won’t have to use force to free Heinz from that pair.”

  We battled our way through the throng of passengers already waiting by the exit. Neither Heinz nor his groupies were anywhere to be seen. Feeling uneasy, I gestured to Dorothea and turned in the direction of the car deck. My instinct was right. Heinz was leaning against the car, and Frau Weidemann-Zapek, Frau Klüppersberg, and their three suitcases were standing right next to him. Seeing us approach, he waved happily.

  “There you are. Are you feeling better, Dorothea? Listen, you know how difficult it is without a car. I’ve already said to the ladies that you either need to take a bus or taxi to get there, which isn’t easy when you’ve got lots of luggage. And we’re going to the same place after all. So, to cut a long story short, we’re taking them with us.”

  I was speechless. Dorothea looked at the suitcases.

  “Tell me, Heinz,” she said, “how are we supposed to get their suitcases into the car?”

  “Just open the car up for me, it’ll be fine.”

  My father, with his bad hip, opened the trunk and the back doors and juggled the various pieces of luggage around at great speed. Moments later, the trunk was shut again and half the backseat loaded right up to the roof.

  “All done.” He rubbed his hands together. “We’re ready to set off. Maybe with Frau Weidemann-Zapek in the back and Frau Klüppersberg in the passenger seat?”

  As the ladies giggled and made a big fuss of getting in, my father reached his hand out toward me for the keys. Only then did he notice the expression on our faces.

  “What’s wrong with you two? It’s not that far, and you don’t have any luggage to carry. A little walk will do you good after all the driving.”

  “Dad, you don’t even know how to get there.”

  “Of course I do. For one thing, our guests have the directions, and besides, Dorothea can put her navigation system on for me. And don’t keep acting as if I’m some senile old man that you can’t leave alone.”

  I bit my lip and didn’t answer. After all, he was my father.

  Shooting Stars

  * * *

  Dorothea and I joined the long line of passengers waiting to get off, showed our tickets, and started to walk along in the early evening light toward Kaiser Strasse. Just after the harbor parking lot, Dorothea’s car overtook us. My father beeped cheerfully and drove past us in second gear. I gazed after them.

  “Did he mention he’s only driven automatics for the last twenty years?”

  “Ah, that explains a lot.” Dorothea took a deep breath. “Then I guess he doesn’t remember when you’re supposed to shift into third. Never mind, the gearbox should be able to handle it. I hope.”

  Dorothea was a very laid-back person. I was glad about that; otherwise, I might have felt obliged to defend my father. She seemed to read my mind.

  “I can’t wait to see how Heinz manages to shake off those two characters. They seem very determined.” She laughed. “Christine, I’m telling you, we’re going to have a lot of fun with them.”

  “Do you realize I’m going to have to see them every morning in the guesthouse?”

  “Ah, that’s right, I forgot that you’re the breakfast fairy for two weeks. Well, hopefully you’ll get everything right; Frau Weidemann-Zapek said they travel a lot, so they must know how things go. But I’m sure you can’t put a foot wrong with them, they’ll be using you to bag your father. Every woman for herself, of course.”

  “Don’t be silly! You watch too many bad movies.”

  Dorothea stopped in front of a bench with a view of the sea. “I saw the twinkle in their eyes, my dear. Don’t be fooled. Right, let’s sit down here, smoke a sneaky cigarette, and work up our energy for the journey to the guesthouse and the next episode of chaos. I think this might just turn out to be the most eventful vacation we’ve ever had together.”

  I’d visited Marleen on the island twice before, so I knew the way. On my last trip, in January, she’d just started renovating the guesthouse. Seeing it again now, I hardly recognized it. It was painted snowy white, the red-tiled roof was new, the old panes had been replaced in the large glass veranda, and the dormer window frames were painted blue. Only the “Haus Theda” sign was the same.

  Dorothea stopped in her tracks. “It looks magical. I imagined some old, run-down cottage. And it’s really big, too. How many rooms are there?”

  I had to think. “Twelve, I believe. Or thirteen. If they weren’t all booked, we could have stayed here. But Marleen rented us an apartment right next to it, the small red house over there. It belongs to Mareike, one of Marleen’s friends. She lives in the apartment at the top and rents out the one below. She’s on vacation, so we have the whole house to ourselves. Great, don’t you think?”

  Dorothea’s car was parked across two of the three spaces belonging to the house. I glanced at the backseat. My father’s hip must have miraculously healed; the luggage had vanished. After all, my father was a gentleman. He didn’t let women carry luggage, only daughters.

  Marleen was in the small reception area of the guesthouse, filling out forms. She looked up as we walked in and smiled.

  “There you are! Dorothea, is your headache better?”

  She came around the desk and hugged first me, then Dorothea.

  “What headache?”

  “Heinz said you had such a bad headache that you couldn’t drive and wanted to walk. And that Christine went with you in case you collapsed. So he offered to drive your car here for you. Why did you bring the thing anyway? You won’t need it here.”

  I sat down on a bench. “It’s a long story. Just as long as the cause of the headache. I’ll tell you about it when we get a quiet moment.”

  Marleen gave me a concerned look. “Oh, do you have a headache too?”

  Dorothea sank down next to me. “No, Marleen, neither of us have a headache. Everything’s just fine. Who parked my car, by the
way?”

  “Heinz parked it like that by mistake, but the parking spaces are at a bit of a funny angle here. Never mind, though, it’s fine, and he was kind enough to give a couple of my guests a lift here. What a coincidence that they sat at your table on the ferry.”

  My father never failed to astound me. He’d had twenty minutes’ head start at the most and, by the sounds of it, had already come out with no end of stories. I stood up and stretched. It was almost seven in the evening now.

  “So, where is my father anyway? I’d really like to get our things into the apartment, unpack quickly, and then we can all have dinner and a proper chat. And you can gradually get used to Heinz.”

  “Why, what’s wrong with Heinz? He’s already over in the apartment; I’ve shown him where everything is.”

  Dorothea gave Marleen’s hand a squeeze. “He’s a really funny guy. You just have to let him get on with it. Maybe Christine is a little more sensitive to it, being his daughter and all.”

  “And where’s our luggage?” I had a strange feeling again.

  “I’ve already taken your luggage over. Christine, you really should get a suitcase with wheels. It’d be much easier. And Heinz’s travel bags are still in the car. He said he’d fetch them himself. But wait, the car key’s here—you can take it with you now.”

  We went over to the car and opened the trunk. All of our things were still there. Dorothea saw my face.

  “You didn’t really expect him to haul all our things out?”

  “Of course not, not when he doesn’t even do his own.”

  “But he has a…”

  “Don’t say a word about his bad hip. He had no problems lifting up those two women’s suitcases. And they didn’t exactly look light.”

  “Well, knitwear and quilting don’t weigh much.”

  Dorothea laughed as she slung the travel bags over her shoulder. I gathered up all the rest, and then we tottered over to the entrance of the red house. We had to ring five times before we heard my father’s footsteps in the hallway. He stayed behind the door and tried to peep through the small glass window.

 

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