Hidden Depths

by Ally Rose

  Today, feeling confident, he thought, ‘I’ll see how far I can push the old fool.’

  ‘If we didn’t have “one for one” monetary values, those of us in East Germany would continue to feel inferior to our fellow Germans in the West,’ he told Janowicz succinctly.

  ‘You’re suggesting East Germany was inferior because we were Socialists?’ said Janowicz, surprised. The class bolted upright, listening intently.

  Felix was adamant. ‘We were inferior. Look at the way they made us dress. We were controlled under the pretext of Socialism. Those in the higher echelons of the Communist party didn’t have the same experience, they lived with privileges and perks. They got to wear decent clothes, drive a nice car and accumulate a bit of money.’

  Janowicz was a staunch Socialist who wasn’t going to be persuaded to think any different by an adolescent boy who’d grown brave enough to speak out since the fall of the Wall. ‘Communism was a fairer system. The State looked after its people and now we’ll all have to fend for ourselves. Greed will be the new motto,’ Janowicz said sharply.

  ‘I’d rather have a free society with everyone given an equal chance than an Orwellian state where “some pigs sleep in beds with sheets on” – and eat bananas!’ Felix said.

  The class laughed en masse, amused by this allegory and reference to bananas.

  ‘Quiet!’ Janowicz barked. ‘Waltz! I see you’ve read George Orwell’s “Animal Farm”. But you’ve missed quite a lot of schooling and your knowledge is limited.’

  Felix felt this remark was personal. ‘Sir, with respect, East Germany was a Russian enclave run by the KGB or the Stasi, if you prefer. Yes, people had jobs, but there were food queues. It was always a case of double standards, those that had the power and those who had none. Not everyone in a position of authority used their power wisely. And did they care about the rest of us? They didn’t want to give up their power or privileges and if anyone dared complained they were dealt with, severely. And we all know what I’m talking about. We were often controlled by fear.’

  ‘You have no fear now,’ Janowicz observed.

  Felix agreed but was trying not to sound arrogant. ‘Once people lost their fear and faith in the system, the Wall came down and Communism was dead and buried.’

  Janowicz disagreed. ‘The Socialists didn’t lose faith. World events took us by surprise.’

  Felix was really animated now. ‘Yes, and it probably all started at the ship works in Poland with a union led by a brave man – Lech Walesa, who encouraged the people to fight back. He’s the real unsung hero but because Gorbachev was forward thinking, his policies took the praise. I think the Americans were influencing Gorbachev far more than he cared to let on.’

  Janowicz’s tone was incredulous and sarcastic. ‘Really? Please, do go on.’

  Felix ignored the derision. He had the class captivated and in the palm of his hand. ‘What if the Americans were winning the race in the Star War policies and in an effort to keep up were bankrupting the Soviet Union? Gorbachev offers to introduce glasnost , or perestroika , whatever you call it, as a means of saving face and to avoid facing the costs of civil uprisings in the East. The Russians couldn’t afford to keep control of all the countries mortgaged under their wing of communism in Eastern Europe as well as keep up with the Americans. They had to get a grip of their finances and not go bankrupt. Gorbachev may well have been progressive but he also got on the world’s stage and was validated as the good guy from Russia, for a change.’

  ‘Ludicrous!’ Janowicz bellowed. ‘Bankruptcy, my… We, in East Germany, loved being Russia’s favourite son. Poland’s Lech Walesa was another trouble-making Pole! We never wanted to cut the strings with the Russians. Events just spiralled out of control.’

  ‘Well, I for one am glad the strings to the Kremlin have been cut. Now we are no longer puppets and like Pinocchio, we can be real boys,’ Felix exclaimed.

  The class laughed and clapped simultaneously.

  ‘Quiet! Waltz! Look what you’ve done! You’ve disrupted the class. How arrogant you are with your ridiculous ideas. Who do you think you are? You’re just a Torgau boy!’

  Defeated, Janowicz was resorting to insults to try and regain power and control.

  But Felix knew he’d won the debate and the moral argument. No one could hurt him now. At Torgau he had learned all there was to know about humanity and who has it and who doesn’t. He wasn’t even angry with Janowicz, viewing him now as just a silly old man. The kids in the class knew the Torgau swipe was below the belt. They wouldn’t judge Felix this way, nor constantly remind him of it in an attempt to belittle him. No, this was a game of one-upmanship that the old fool Janowicz had lost because he couldn’t win the debate any other way. It was cowardly. Most of his contemporaries in the class had some understanding of this and realised Felix had been through a tough experience and survived. And some of them were now on his side, his allies and his future friends.

  One of the boys stood up and shouted. ‘Janowicz, leave him alone. No one’s listening to you any more. Don’t you know there’s a new order? And you’re not part of it.’

  Janowicz was outraged. ‘Carsten Berger! How dare you? Shut up and sit down!’

  Carsten refused to sit down or stay silent. The momentum was growing in the classroom.

  Felix decided to leave and no one would persuade him otherwise. ‘For the record, Herr Janowicz, I was sent to Torgau, but only because my parents died. That was not a crime, it was a tragedy! I’m going, I’ll not stay another second in your classroom.’

  ‘Waltz!’ Janowicz screamed. ‘Show some respect.’

  ‘Respect has to be earned,’ Felix told him. ‘To be a teacher, you need to be someone the kids look up to, someone they respect. In Loco Parentis .’

  The class cheered even if they didn’t understand Latin. Another classmate, Paul Scheer stood up to join in Felix’s defence.

  ‘Shut up, Janowicz!’ Paul shouted.

  ‘You old Commie!’ Carsten yelled and began banging open and closed his desk.

  The others in the class joined in. There was a loud cacophony of desk lids clashing in unison.

  Felix smiled at his classmates as he left the room. The noise from the disruption travelled along the corridors as Felix left the school and the chaos in his wake.

  Klaus was outraged when Felix told him about Janowicz but Ingrid was proud of her nephew, especially after hearing about the Torgau provocation. They both felt Felix had handled himself and the situation without losing his self control and respect.

  ‘Who does Janowicz think he is?,’ Ingrid said, indignantly.

  ‘Herr Janowicz can’t teach me anything. I know that sounds arrogant but I’ve learnt about life in the last few years from human nature and through all the books I read when I was a hidden away. I don’t want to go back to school, I want to work for the family, in the boatyard, at the café, or help looking after Axel. Anything, I don’t mind,’ Felix said, imploringly.

  ‘I’ll complain to the education board, get Janowicz fired. I’ll bet he was a Stasi informant. Then you can go back to school with your head held high,’ Klaus fumed.

  ‘Onkel. You’ll need extra workers if you and Bernd get the golf course.’

  Klaus was adamant. ‘But your education is important!’

  ‘Felix, please,’ Ingrid began. ‘Don’t jeopardise all we’ve built up here. It’s illegal not to attend school and I don’t want the authorities turning up here, not with the ongoing adoption process with you and Axel.’

  Felix understood immediately the ramifications of keeping a stubborn line of resistance.

  ‘OK, I’m 16 next year and legally allowed to work – I’ll go to school till then.’

  Herr Janowicz didn’t get away with his behaviour. Klaus vehemently complained to the school, who were embarrassed and apologetic and Janowicz was sidelined and retired slightly early. However, the staff were wary about Felix returning to school in case of further disruption but he settled
down and completed the rest of the term without further disruption.

  That summer, the Football World Cup in Italy captivated the Germans’ imagination in their year of reunification like no other tournament ever had. All over Berlin, satellite dishes adorned the flats in anticipation that the West German footballers would do well in the tournament. Around Motzen, satellite dishes were uncommon, so when Bernd brought a satellite dish on his last visit, installing it on the roof of Das Kino in time for the opening ceremony, it became a celebrated village affair.

  The locals and visiting tourists were charged a small entrance fee, just as they were when films were shown on the large screen at the weekends, to watch the matches live from Italy. Klaus and Bernd shared the profits and this enterprise made a good profit for the month of the tournament. Here, the seeds were being sown for their future working partnership, which would bring the hardworking brothers and their families a rich and rewarding harvest.

  Felix worked in the café, helping Ingrid serve drinks and snacks during the matches at half time when the surge of customers was at its’ highest. Axel, now nine months old, sat in his playpen at the back of the café. Ingrid took him everywhere with her. He was a happy and contented baby and with his blond quiff of hair he enchanted all who set eyes upon him.

  The mood in the country was euphoric and football fans as well as abstainers were caught up in the buoyant, party mood. West Germany reached the semi final, played in the heat of an Italian summer in the city of Turin. It was a tense, nail-biting and gripping spectacle of football against an old adversary and rival England which after playing extra time the score was 1-1 so the outcome was decided on penalties. The Germans scored four out of their five penalties whilst the English missed two out of their five. Final score, West Germany 4, England 3. Germany was in the final. Das kino erupted out of their seats with a giant roar.

  ‘JA!’

  Klaus turned to Bernd and hugged him. ‘We won!’ And when he’d calmed down a little said, ‘We deserved to win. We were cheated by the England in the World Cup final in 1966. That was never a goal, the ball didn’t cross the line.’

  Bernd was used to his brother’s weird concepts. ‘Who cares? We’re in the final!’

  Four days later, on 8thJuly, the final of the World Cup in Rome, West Germany beat Argentina. Das Kino was again packed to the rafters and the crowd in the hangar was ecstatic, their cheers of delight audible at the far side of the lake. Everyone had lost any apparent reserve, embracing the moment and one another. Felix hugged his family and laughter and tears filled the air, a sense of national pride welling in most Germans, both East and West. This camaraderie and unity wasn’t just about West Germany winning the World Cup. It was about the German people becoming one nation, no longer divided by political ideology or enforced walled borders.

  Directly after the match, the Three Tenors, Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo and Jose Carreras, gave a memorable concert live in Rome. Many of the crowds at Das Kino dispersed but some remained to have picnics and barbeques on the beach, enjoying an open air concert from the open doors of the hangar. At the lake, the mood was euphoric and Felix drank a few beers with his friends Carsten and Paul while Klaus and Ingrid turned a blind eye. It was the first time Felix got drunk and he didn’t need anyone to remind him about his father’s alcohol addictions because he would forever be conscious of not falling into the same trap.

  On 3rdOctober the German nation was reunited. The reunification party went on for days. It was like a simultaneous World Cup fever and New Year all over again with fireworks on top of the symbol of Berlin, the Brandenburg Gate, bringing the people of this once divided city and nation officially together again.

  In Motzen, Bernd and his family escaped from the volumes of people that had descended upon Berlin and the relatives from Rugen made a surprise appearance. For the first time Felix met his new Oma , Gisela, and his Tante Maria. A younger version of Gisela, she was a stout and friendly woman in her early 30s married to Olaf, a robust farmer. With them was their 12-year-old son, Lutz.

  Gisela, although in her 60s, was used to young teenage boys as she’d lived with Lutz since he was a toddler. She had a relaxed manner with Felix that made his initial awkwardness subside and with Tante Maria and Onkel Olaf cracking jokes with Lutz, being in their jovial company felt easy to Felix.

  The family gathered outside around an open fire, the smell of cooked meat from their barbeque mixing with the smoky wood. Knowing the practice was illegal they daringly lit some fireworks and afterwards stayed huddled around the crackling fire, watching the smoke parade upwards into the night sky.

  Klaus looked at Ingrid holding Axel in her arms, and pulled Felix towards him, putting his arm around his nephew.

  ‘Today is a very special day,’ Klaus began. ‘It’s the day of Einheit , German unity. And today of all days, Ingrid and I received confirmation that we are Felix’s legal guardians and Axel’s adoption has been approved.’

  Felix whispered in his nephew’s ear. ‘Axel, we belong to Klaus and Ingrid now.’

  Everyone cheered and clapped and there wasn’t a dry eye witnessing Klaus, Ingrid, baby Axel and Felix all huddled together in an embrace. The sad memories of Susanne’s death the previous year were fading and it seemed the beginning of a new dawn. Felix felt he was starting to live up to the Latin meaning of his name, Felice: the fortunate one.

  Chapter Ten: Encounters

  THERE WAS AN AREA about five kilometres from Motzen that was once a virtual no-man’s land, interspersed with landmines that were controlled and used by the Russian army for target practice and military manoeuvres. The ground was apparently polluted by ammunition and nearby there had been a waste depot and landfill site. The West Germans had paid the East Germans to deposit their waste and though it was fenced off, those in the East had risked searching through the waste for ‘Western’ dregs to re-use. After German reunification, environmentalists had acted quickly to change these blots on the landscape, adding nutritious new soil to both areas, and within a year, verdant fields were the result. However, cases for remuneration and claims for compensation from those with ill health linked to the previously contaminated area were growing in vast numbers.

  Those that had fled to the West before the Wall and borders divided the German nation now claimed their share of the properties and land they’d left behind. Disgruntled family members who had remained in the East had looked after the family’s inheritance and ageing relatives for years, with limited or no access to their family on the ‘other side’.

  When East Germany ceased to exist in 1990 families were reunited, only to be torn asunder once again when a claim for ownership under the inheritance laws was registered. While the Wall had been up, those in the West had waited up to 10 years for the right to visit their families in East Germany. Now the split was irreconcilable, engendered by a wall of greed and misunderstanding.

  However, whilst some families throughout the early 1990s bickered, claimed and counter-claimed, Bernd and Klaus used their energies to purchase the Russian’s no-man’s land at a greatly reduced price. As owners of such a contentious site it was vitally important to ensure that impregnable terms and conditions were written into the contract so they would not be liable for any future claims made against them. Bernd didn’t give up politics and was elected Burgermeister – Mayor – of nearby Zossen. The family rented out their flat in Berlin and moved to a large mansion provided in the town. Ute was in her element as the Mayor’s wife in charge of the functions for the self-appointed dignitaries in town and their daughters settled well in a new, local school.

  The golf club was built the following spring, a grand affair complete with an 18 and nine hole course, a licensed clubhouse, a driving range, putting green, a club shop selling the latest equipment, and a small restaurant. It was named ‘The Motzen Mayor Golf Club’ and was opened by the golfer Bernhard Langer. Klaus had secured a government grant to employ a multitude of staff and by the summer of 1992, the golf club
was providing a comfortable income for the Felker brothers and their families.

  At the lake, the boatyard continued to be Klaus’s main source of work. Using some of the profits from the golf club, they hired instructors ready for the tourist season and opened a water activity centre offering waterskiing, scuba diving and hiring out boats. They also paid for lifeguards for the swimming area on the small, sandy beach near the boathouse.

  Ingrid had hired help in the café to make sure she had ample time every day for Axel, now a beautiful and energetic toddler of nearly three who was running about all over the place. She had grown into the role of motherhood and didn’t want to miss out on his development and precious moments. Klaus too, enjoyed fatherhood but his busy and industrious life meant he only had half the weekends and holidays free. He always tried to be present when Axel awoke, at mealtimes and for the last few hours before the boy went to sleep. With constant juggling they made time for Felix as well as each other, managing to go out on their on mountain bike rides, hiking around the lake, with or without their boys. Klaus had also joined a gun club with Bernd, shooting at targets with small, rapid-fire pistols.

  Felix, now a muscular, handsome lad of 17, was happy to work in the boathouse with Klaus and help run the waterside activities. He also helped out at the golf club, collecting and refilling the balls in the machines on the driving range or assisting the ground staff around the golf courses. He was the proud owner of a 50cc, light blue Schwalbe – ‘The Swallow’ – one of the most popular mopeds from the East German era with three speeds and a manual clutch. This was Klaus and Ingrid’s present for his birthday in January. Ingrid didn’t want Felix driving a more powerful and faster motorbike, and the Schwalbe was her compromise, as was paying for his driving lessons in Klaus’s old car, a VW estate.

  The girls in the village had begun to notice Felix’s Aryan good looks. Tall, athletic, with shoulder length fair hair which he usually let blow in the wind (except at work, when he tied it in a ponytail), he had turned into quite an Adonis. He remained wary of intimacy, though. Happy to make friends with the opposite sex and hang out with the village girls or his girl-mad pals Carsten and Paul, he was always slightly remote around them, which only added to his appeal.