by Dora Heldt
Furious, I was searching for an answer as the door opened again, and the last two people we needed came in.
“Helloooo, we just wanted to see what the hard-working men were up to.”
At least Frau Weidemann-Zapek and Frau Klüppersberg hadn’t put overalls on. Kalli looked horrified, and my father looked at him reproachfully. Onno was the first to react.
“We’re closed. The renovations are still going on.”
The ladies giggled and nudged each other. “How lovely. We were just wondering whether we could entice the men away for a little break.”
Dorothea’s menacing look rested on my father. He shook his head disapprovingly.
“That’s enough now. This isn’t a public building site. Kalli, we’re still working, there is no break, a job’s a job, it’s the same rule for everyone. Ladies, I’m sure we’ll see each other at some point; the island isn’t that big, after all. Christine, my electric drill please.”
I was able to escape the hilarious sight of the ladies’ offended departure by grabbing my cell from the windowsill and running out in front of them.
I walked slowly back over to the apartment, turning my cell on and typing in the PIN as I did so. Seconds later, it rang. I answered and almost ran right into Johann.
“Hello, this is your T-Mobile mailbox. You have five new messages. To listen, please press one.”
We stood opposite each other, each of us with a cell phone to our ear, both a little taken aback. “Listen,” he said quietly into the phone, “I have to go now, but I’ll call later, okay?”
His voice sounded soft, warm, and tender. Presumably he wasn’t talking to his mechanic.
I pressed one. “Today, ten thirty. You were called by the number 0171… There is no message. If you would like to be connected to the caller, please press seven.”
I didn’t want to. Johann stood there and looked at me thoughtfully.
“Today, ten forty-five. You were called by the number 0171… There is no message. If you would like to be connected to the caller, please press seven.”
No. The next message. His cell rang again.
“Hello?… Hello, Pookie…”
He had such gentle eyes. Pookie…?
“No, now’s not a good time…no, nothing in particular…listen, I’ll call you later, okay? Bye-bye.”
It seemed the sexy phone voice came to him quite naturally. I tried to look indifferent.
“Today, eleven ten, beep: ‘Why do I keep getting your damn mailbox? I don’t get it.’ Beep. If you would like to be connected with the caller, please press seven.”
I pressed and waited to hear my sister’s voice, but instead all I could hear was the computerized voice: “The number you are trying to reach is busy.” I pressed the red button.
“This mailbox is a pain in the ass.”
Johann smiled at me and nodded. “I turned mine off. Either they can get me or they have to call later.”
The Pookies of this world, I thought with a twinge.
My mailbox called again. “Today eleven thirty, beep: ‘Hi, this is Ines. Why have you both turned off your cell phones? I’ve been ringing you nonstop. Well, anyway, Mom is doing fine. It all went well, and she’s back in her room. I’ve spoken to the doctor and he’s happy with how it went. And it would be very helpful if you could leave at least one phone on, I can’t be bothered to keep trying. Speak later.’ Beep. If you would like to…” I hung up.
“And?” Johann’s brown eyes were studying me intently. “Is something wrong?”
“My Pookie, er, my mother is being—”
My cell rang, the good old mailbox again: “Today, eleven forty. Beep: ‘It’s me again. There’s no need to call back in the next hour, I’m turning my phone off now because I’m going into Mom’s room. She’s still quite drowsy, so we’ll call this afternoon and then Dad can speak to her, too. So, until later.’ You have no further messages. To go to the main menu…”
I put my cell in my pocket. Johann was still staring at me expectantly.
“No, nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just great. What are you up to?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I was planning to rent a bike and ride down to the beach. Would you maybe like to join me?”
Two scantily clad people, warm sand, soft skin, salty water, a few seagulls, his hazel-brown eyes. I pushed the images from my mind and tried to find an answer that sounded friendly, in spite of Pookie, but still a little aloof. My father found it for me:
“Christiiiine!” He craned his neck out of the restaurant window. “What’s taking you so long? You’re holding us up from getting on with the work.”
“I’m coming.” I smiled at Johann. “Well, I’m sorry, but as you can see there’s something I need to do. Maybe another time.”
He rolled his eyes, but smiled as he did so.
“It’s a real mission to make a date with you, isn’t it? How about we do it spontaneously? You give me your cell number, and I’ll keep calling you until we make a date. What do you think?”
My heart was pounding.
“Christiiiine!”
“Yes, Dad, just a minute!” I took a deep breath, then gave Johann my number, feeling prepared to ignore Pookie if we could at least go for a beer together sometime.
As I walked out of the apartment with the electric screwdriver a few minutes later, I could still see him in the distance. He was cycling toward the beach. And talking on the phone again.
My mood didn’t improve any when my father ripped the screwdriver from my hands. “So, who were you chatting up this time?” he demanded to know.
“I wasn’t chatting anyone up,” I answered, offended.
“Yes you were, I saw you. That’s that strange guest who arrived yesterday.”
Kalli gave me a reassuring nod. “Why is he strange?”
“Oh, come on!” My father snorted. “A man traveling alone, you know the type. He’s out to pick up some woman. And there’ll be four children sitting at home, crying.”
Dorothea had been listening. “How do you know he has four children?”
“Well, maybe he only has three, or two, or one, or even none at all, but it doesn’t matter. Marleen isn’t too happy about him either; I heard her talking to Gesa about it. He has deceitful eyes.”
I’d had enough now. “You really do talk complete nonsense sometimes. Deceitful eyes, what on earth is that supposed to mean?”
“‘Shy eyes of blue, always true. Fine eyes of brown, will let you down.’ It’s an old saying, but there’s something in it. And by the way, missy, watch the tone you take with me.”
Dorothea laughed softly, Nils grinned, Kalli looked at his shoes, and Onno sang along to the song on the radio: “Red roses, red lips, red wine.” But no one helped me. I was hopping mad, but still didn’t dare commit patricide in front of witnesses. Instead, I gave him a long and poisonous look, then went back to my wall.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you rolling your eyes at me, Christine Schmidt. We’ll talk about that later. I’m going to go and put something lighter on. I’m too warm.”
The door slammed into the lock behind him.
I flung the paint roller into the pot and turned around to face the cowardly troop.
“Thank you very much. I hope you’ll be just as restrained when I strangle him with the sticky tape in a moment.”
Nils looked at the paint pot, then smiled at me. “I’ll fetch you a new roller; that one’s completely drenched. I’ve got a spare in the car.”
Dorothea was mixing paints. “I can’t get involved in the whole father-daughter relationship thing. It’s very complex. Therapists need years to sort out that kind of thing. Missy.” She laughed inanely at her own joke.
Only Kalli was sympathetic. “Look, fathers can be a little strange sometimes. I’m one too, after all. The older you get, the more you’ll understand him.”
“Yeah, thanks Kalli. I’m going off for a smoke. And I don’t care if you snitch on me.”
But to be on the safe side I sat down behind the house. There was no point putting myself right in the line of fire. As the sun shone down onto my face, I imagined myself being on the beach with Johann and wondered how I could arrange to meet up with him. I couldn’t understand what Marleen’s problem was, but with my father it was just silly prejudice. When he’d met my ex-husband, who he actually grew to like, he’d noticed his hands: “Huge paws. You should watch out; those are murderer’s hands; you only need one per neck.”
My mother rarely took his fanciful stories seriously. She’d given her son-in-law a pair of gloves on our last Christmas together, and it turned out he wore the same size as my father.
My mother! I remembered I hadn’t told my father the news yet. He would still be worried. Although he could have asked me in a friendly way who I’d been talking to on the phone instead of carping on at me. It was his own fault.
When I got back to the restaurant, my father was sitting on the upturned box again, his face buried in his hands. Onno, Kalli, Nils, and Dorothea were standing around him, their faces solemn. My father lifted his head. He was as pale as a corpse and looked devastated.
“Oh, Christine, we have to set off right away.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll drive you.” Dorothea leaned over to him and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. She turned around to me. “Perhaps it sounds worse than it is.”
I had no idea what they were talking about. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Kalli and Onno both put their fingers to their lips.
“His wife,” whispered Onno.
“What? Can I have a full sentence please? His wife happens to be my mother, too, by the way.”
My father shook his bowed head slowly.
I got louder. “Dorothea! Tell me right away what happened.”
“Heinz was just on the phone to the hospital.”
He looked back up. “Something bad must have happened. So bad they couldn’t tell us.”
I started to panic. “Why? Did you speak to Ines?”
“To Ines? No, why? I spoke to the hospital.” He rubbed his eyes. “They said they couldn’t tell me anything over the phone.”
I slowly caught on and knelt down in front of him.
“So you phoned the main switchboard for the hospital and asked how Mom was? And they wouldn’t tell you anything?”
“Exactly.”
“And you had them put you through to the ward?”
“I didn’t know which ward it was.”
“And you didn’t phone Ines?”
“I don’t know her number by heart. But the people from the hospital said it so strangely, you know, that they weren’t allowed to say anything. Really strangely.”
I stood back up again and breathed out, relieved.
“Dad, there’s no need to worry, it’s all fine. Ines phoned, the operation went well. Mom was still tired at eleven, but is back in her room and you can give her a call and speak to her at around three.”
My father looked at me skeptically. “You’re trying to protect me. How would Ines know better than the people in the hospital?”
“Because she spoke to the doctor and saw Mom. You probably had the janitor on the other end of the line.”
“No, it was a woman, and I’m sure she must have been a doctor. So why didn’t Ines call if everything is fine?”
“She did, I just told you. She left a message on my voicemail because you turned all the cell phones off.”
Kalli cleared his throat. “Well, that sounds good.”
“Yes.” Onno had even turned the music off. “It seems like she’s cheated death, as they say.”
I pulled my cell from my purse and dialed my sister’s number. It had been over two hours since her last call, so perhaps I could reach her again by now. I was lucky; she answered after two rings.
“About time, too. Did you forget Mom was being operated on today? I called early especially so you wouldn’t have to worry any longer than necessary, and then I find you have your cells switched off.”
“Dad’s worried about radiation and cauliflower ears. He turned all the cell phones off, and I didn’t realize. So, is she awake yet?”
“Let her rest a little longer,” Ines said, and gave me the direct number to her room. “The doctor said she should be feeling fit again at around three, so in an hour or so. I’m driving back there then.”
“Do you want to speak to Dad?”
“Sure, if he wants to speak to me.”
I held the cell out to my father. “Would you like to speak to Ines?”
“Nah.” He waved it away.
“Ines, he doesn’t want to.”
“That’s fine. I have to go, speak later then.”
My father looked at me, agitated. “So? What did she say?”
“Dad, you could have asked her that yourself. You can call Mom around three, but she’s sleeping at the moment. Here’s the direct number for her room.”
He reached for the note and tucked it away in his pocket happily.
“I’m just going across to the guesthouse to see if Marleen’s making us something to eat. See you in a bit.”
“Dad, don’t call yet, do you hear?”
“No, no.”
He walked quickly across the courtyard, a spring back in his step.
The Heartbreaker
* * *
He came back half an hour later, followed by Marleen, who was carrying a tray of sandwiches. He even held the door open for her and beamed at us. “My wife sends her love,” he called out. “Come on, Kalli, push a few tables together, we’re having something to eat now. Gesa’s coming too, and she’s bringing coffee. Christine, Onno, Dorothea, lunchtime! Oh, Nils, you too, of course. It’s not all hard work, we have to have a bit of fun too.” He clapped his hands together. “Onno, turn the radio up, will you?”
I pushed the chairs toward the improvised table and took a seat. My father sat down next to me and gave my knee a pat. “A cup of coffee is just what we need, don’t you think?”
“So you did call her right away.”
“Of course.” He reached for a roll and put it on Nils’s plate. “Here you go my boy, tuck in.”
“But she must have been really drowsy still.”
“I’ve known your mother for forty-eight years, and she’s drowsy every single morning. It doesn’t bother me.” He raised his coffee cup and looked around at the group. “Cheers, everyone, to my wife, her new knee, and the fact that we’re all working so well together.” He smiled happily. “And tonight I’m treating everyone to a beer.”
Dorothea winked at me, and I winked back. It seemed the vacation was saved, for now at least.
My father described my mother’s operation in great detail, adding a few other stories of family illnesses for good measure. I tried my best not to interrupt or correct him. I was just relieved to be at the table with Paul Newman rather than Scooby-Doo. But when he started to relocate my torn ligament from the sports hall to the Nürburgring, I decided it was time to speak up. A moped’s loud engine interrupted me, and I was about to pick the conversation back up when a small, red-haired man—presumably the noisy vehicle’s driver—arrived. He was wearing checkered Bermudas, a yellow polo shirt, and a matching pullover around his shoulders.
“I knocked, but there was no answer.” He had a squeaky voice.
Dorothea coughed, and Marleen and my father stood up. Onno swallowed the last bite he’d taken. “We’re closed,” he said. “We’re still renovating.”
Bermuda guy ignored him. “My name is Gisbert von Meyer, and I’m from the Nordeney Island Courier. Good day to you.”
The squeaky voice got higher the louder he spoke.
Dorothea was choking now; Kalli banged her on the back without letting the man out of his sight. I always felt sorry for guys like that. He was too small, too thin, too pale, too ginger. He probably still lived with his mother, even though he was clearly already in his m
idforties. But then, so was I, and I was spending my vacation with my dad. People who live in glass houses, I thought, before it occurred to me why his name sounded familiar. I echoed it back to him, louder than I’d meant to.
“Gisbert von Meyer? Are you the one who wrote that article, ‘Invasion of the Day-Trippers’? It was signed by GvM.”
He beamed at me, so much so that you could see his little mouselike teeth.
“That’s me. Yes, I’m a member of the Writers Guild; it’s my passion. And that’s why I’m here today. Are you Marleen de Vries?”
I shook my head and pointed at Marleen, who was already standing in front of him, her hand outstretched.
“I’m Marleen de Vries. What can I do for you?”
Gisbert grasped her hand and shook it for a second, without tearing his gaze away from me.
“What can you do for me? That’s the wrong question. It should be what I can do for you.” He finally looked at Marleen. “I’m a journalist, and I’m working with the Nordeney Island paper for a few months. I’m looking for subjects that make me passionate and curious.” Dorothea was making gurgling noises; I avoided looking at her. “And I just heard that an old restaurant on our wonderful island is being made into a wonderful lounge bar, so I’d like to write about it.”
My father went over to stand next to Marleen. “Do you have a press pass?”
Gisbert looked confused. “Excuse me?”
“Press pass. I’d like to see it. You could be a spy for the competition. But if you are, you’ve underestimated us; we’re on the ball here, you know.”
“But the lady over there has already read one of my articles.” His squeaky voice sounded brittle when he got agitated. My father looked over at me and waved impatiently. “Oh, that’s just my daughter. She reads too much; she has ever since she was a little girl. And she tells wild stories. No, show me your pass please.”
Nils spoke up. “Heinz, sorry, but I know Herr von Meyer. He lives three doors down from us, and he really is with the paper.”
My father looked skeptically at Nils, then, more interested now, at Gisbert. “Do you get any perks? My son was a journalist once, and he got a discount at VW and Toyota. And at the movies, too.”