Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One

by Hedy Thalberg James

  Dr. Novak was now taking him away from his thoughts, as he touched his arm, whispering, “Your mother is asking for you, Mr. Reinhardt.” He made an empathetic gesture that he would be waiting in the adjoining room.

  Karl’s heart skipped a beat, standing across from her now and asking, “How are you feeling, Mother?” Looking at her closely, his mind almost went blank. “She has become an old woman overnight,” he thought sadly, noticing her pale and vacant face, dark circles under the eyes that had lost their sparkle.

  “Karl, my dear son! The question is, how do you feel?”

  He moved closer, taking her small, fragile hand in his, seating himself on the bed. A long silence followed as they both stared at each other’s tormented face.

  “If I hadn’t been screaming so hysterically and had kept my emotions under control, Papa would still be with us. I’ve indirectly killed him.”

  “Mother, please!” He was shocked to realize she already knew about his father’s death, and that she was blaming herself.

  “No, let me put it differently. Christina, our daughter, started it….and Stephany, his wife, finished it. Finished him off for good,” she stated bluntly, her voice quivering.

  Karl was even more startled now, trying to collect himself and find the right words to say to his mother in her desperate state of mind, as she was obviously on her way to losing her will to live out of sheer guilt over her behavior. He had to make all the effort he could to convince her otherwise.

  “You know that is not the truth! We both know that Papa had a long history of troubles with his heart, and while I am the first one to admit that Christina’s liaison and marriage did not strengthen his condition, we will still have to come to terms with the fact that we all have to die eventually.”

  “I know, Karl, but you should have seen his frightened look….his distorted face. Oh my God, I will have to live with this in my heart for the rest of my life!”

  “I understand, Mother. I still live in constant pain thinking of the last expression on Louise’s face. Why do you think I left then and stayed away for so long? There were a thousand reasons—no, I don’t want to exaggerate. But nevertheless, I don’t want you to think I am indifferent to your sorrow. And Mother, I too am still mourning. Like me, you may also never stop! But just think about and remember the forty-two years of a blissful marriage with only the past two years of dismay. Not many people are afforded such happiness, Mother!”

  “You are exaggerating, Karl!”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Nothing does really matter at this point, son. As long as you don’t leave me….us….to fend for ourselves.”

  “Never. Not ever!”

  Fresh tears started to flow all over again and both wept in each other’s arms as they had never before. It was his time to cry for Louise, which had been overdue for years, and also for his father and sister.

  “Grief has a way of bringing people closer together. At times, extremely close!’ Dr. Novak said, observing their laments, thoroughly convinced now that both would eventually be fine. “I am leaving now. Please give Mr. Reinhardt this bottle of camphor drops for his mother. Also another prescription along with this note. Don’t lose it girl! They need to be together, so don’t disturb them right now. Aren’t you a little young to be all alone in this large place?” he added as an afterthought.

  “My name is Elsa Hanak, and my family works here also. Right now, it’s my turn to watch and wait on Mrs. Reinhardt. Three of my family members are in the kitchen cleaning and cooking, and two are in bed to finally take a rest. It’s been such a bad night for everyone!”

  He nodded, agreeing with her.

  “Dr. Novak,” she said in haste, eager to correct his disappointing appraisal of her age. “I am seventeen already.”

  “That is still very young, when you are sixty like I am,” he soothed her hurt feelings with a kindly smile. As he was leaving the castle, he thought, like everyone else before him, “What a way to start a new year!”

  13

  There was no question where Otto and Christina Reinhardt would be put to rest, since the Reinhardts had always had their mausoleum in Vienna. They had agreed on a short service for them in their Lindenfels chapel. Stephany had pleaded with both the priest and Karl not to attend the funeral, and had finally convinced them to stay home, not to have to undergo the stares of onlookers, who often did not even know the deceased and came just to enjoy the lengthy processions in black and veils, which often resembled the first act of a stage play. Many funerals were attended by people who read the obituary, simply to while away the time and have some entertainment. So, with Karl’s sympathetic, “I understand, Mother,” which was accompanied also by the priest’s understanding nod, Stephany had stayed home.

  While many Viennese were still searching feverishly through the newspapers to find out what arrangements were being made for the Reinhardt funeral, Christina and Otto had already been buried. The service, which was held at the castle’s chapel, had only been attended by the few close friends who had accompanied Karl on their fateful mission to the Walden place. The Rombergs, the Auersbachs, as well as all the employees of the castle also paid their respects and had a chance to say their prayers for the two departed. Karl, forlorn and desolate, accepted their condolences while Alex and Verena comforted their grandmother in her darkest hour, assuring her that eventually we all must go to heaven, repeating what the priest had told them very convincingly.

  Once back in Vienna, Karl needed assistance with the countless tasks and answering the never-ending flow of condolence letters. Stephany was only too happy to oblige and help him. She had now moved to a different flight of rooms, hoping to erase some of the memories, however, after a few days, had found it necessary to get back into her old routine, thus feeling more comfortable.

  So far, they had not heard anything from the military, outside of a short private visit by Major Essler in which he offered his assistance. The newspapers had only an article elaborating on the late Otto Reinhardt’s many contributions to Austrian charities, but nothing on the murder of Christina or the deaths of the two military men, verifying again the continuation of the severe censorship that was adhered to through the military and those in power. The new, and rather young Emperor, was not in any way yielding to his mother’s nor his staff’s advice.

  Stephany and Madeleine, whom she had invited for lunch, were seated in Karl’s newly remodeled dining room. At Stephany’s insistence, Madeleine was giving her the first account of their daring rescue mission, also mentioning the many changes in plans they had encountered until discovering Christina’s body. Karl, who had purposely given them some time alone, now entered and quietly took a seat, letting Madeleine continue with the story and the “suicide” of von Walden and Altmann.

  “Good thing, or bad depending on how one looks at it,” Stephany surmised, somewhat cynically and with a hint of satisfaction. “that both of them were faster than our Benedict!”

  “Oh? And why?” interrupted Karl and Madeleine.

  “Very simply, because in his own peculiar way, Benedict adored and idolized Christina. Don’t you know that she found him in a hovel one day, hungry and abused beyond any imagination, covered with boils and lice? It was his pitifully helpless stare that softened her heart, as it had so many times with others in the past,” Stephany said with obvious pride, taking a look heavenwards. “She brought him to our hospital and had him looked after and cleaned up, and made him as well as they could have in his situation! And Benedict, the grateful creature he is, has never forgotten her goodness to him. He must have known that something was wrong there, since he himself volunteered to be near her, giving us all the messages via our kitchen help. Karl, please, do give him some easier work to do,” she pleaded sincerely.

  “Now a lot of things are falling into place. Small wonder he was sitting on her bed crying like a child,” Madeleine uttered, in tears herself.

  “Now, now, Madeleine. I didn’t intend to ma
ke you cry.” Stephany soothed her, and changing the subject, she asked, “I understand you are planning to be married this summer? I am so sorry! My idea was to change the subject to something more pleasant, not to connect your tears with your upcoming marriage. Unless they are tears of joy!” All three had a well-deserved laugh, then Mark Wiland was announced. He had come to take Madeleine home.

  “Here is a little trinket for you. Enjoy it! And all my heartfelt thanks to you again!” Stephany smiled kindly, handing her a small, finely adorned satchel.

  “You are too kind, Mrs. Reinhardt! Your son has already given me the most beautiful bracelet. It’s priceless!”

  “And I just gave you the matching necklace,” Stephany said without expecting any thanks on Madeleine’s part. She had known about the bracelet Karl had gotten for his sister and she had, in turn, purchased the matching necklace for Christina’s Christmas present. She thought about it sadly, and yet was glad to make someone else happy. “There certainly couldn’t be anyone nicer to receive it, outside of my unfortunate daughter,” she mused. “The best of luck to you for your future,” she added, embracing Madeleine.

  Karl put his arms around Mark and Madeleine, leading them to the door. “Thank you both, again!”

  “What an incredible lady! To whom is she getting married?” Stephany remarked to Karl.

  “The curator from the art museum. You know Felix. What’s the matter? You are turning white mother!”

  “I’ve known Felix Nordmann quite well for a long time! He is the man Christina had been in love with most of her adult life!”

  “Small world,” he answered, equally astounded. “But what else can one say but to wish them the utmost happiness,” Karl added sincerely.

  “Good luck would be more appropriate! In marrying a widower who has been in love with his work more than with his wife, all the while producing eight children in ten years of marriage, poor Madeleine Kramer will need all the luck she can get,” she concluded.

  “Let’s consider her a friend of ours, mother.”

  “By all means! You and I need good people around us. Probably now more than ever!”

  ∼

  Regardless of which direction one looked, there was nothing but masses of snow with a few icy spots glancing through, as the fierce storm was covering and uncovering the white blanket at its own liking. Anyone who was lucky enough to be home by a lit fireplace and with enough food in the cupboard would have never ventured outdoors for any reason except a life-threatening crisis. It was the end of February, and with it came a very gloomy and meditative time for Karl, this year reminding him more than any other that it was almost to the hour, ten years ago, when his sister had indirectly forced him to accompany her to the Romberg pharmacy. He was now trying his utmost to avoid thinking about it, as it seemed as if it had taken place just yesterday. And yet, it was so long ago!

  He therefore welcomed the sight of his two children, who had come to join him at a much earlier hour than usual. Both of the governesses claimed that Alex and Verena longed to be with their father, since Grandmother preferred to be alone at the moment, having her long conversation with Otto in heaven. Alex, who was habitually carrying around a book about one or the other generals, never permitting anyone to touch his priceless treasure, was, at the moment, excitedly raving about Napoleon’s many achievements, his present tutor being French and still living in his country’s glorious past, carefully avoiding comments about France’s disastrous defeats and the calamities which followed in the aftermath. He now exclaimed, “Austria did not suffer all that much, Papa!”

  “Who told you that, Alex?”

  “My teacher! He said “Napoleon married Emperor Franz’s daughter, Marie-Louise. They had a son, who died at the age of twenty-three…and…and—”

  Karl stopped listening at the mention of the name of his beloved late wife, his thoughts racing back in time. “Just what I needed to hear!” he thought, watching Verena dress a few of her favorite dolls, pausing at intervals to wiggle her lower loose tooth, causing Alex to read a bit louder, giving his sister long looks of reprimand which in turn displeased Karl and added more sorrow to his not very happy evening.

  Though little squabbles among Christina and himself were the order of the day during his own childhood, a polite, “I am so sorry” would always follow. Alex, however, could not imagine feeling sorry about anything he said, did, or didn’t do, even though his parents had claimed at times that he showed great compassion in others plights. Karl never had permitted anyone to criticize his enormous patience and indulgence in raising his children, always taking blame on himself for not having been there when it was the crucial time for his children. “And in dire need they had been for at least one parent, doubtlessly while I was wallowing in self-pity, not recognizing others sorrows and letting myself be completely consumed by my art and architecture in Paris!” he pondered on.

  “Papa! You were born in 1815, weren’t you?” Alex interrupted again. “I just read that it was the year of Vienna’s Congress and the most important people came to our city to put Europe to peace!”

  “Yes, Alex. I was born when Europe was pieced up, not put to peace! What’s more, Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo by the first Duke of Wellington, which caused about fifty thousand lives to be lost, not counting all the wounded that were left to die on the battlefield. And as for Napoleon….well, he was exiled and died in 1821. Your grandparents on either side lived through it all, and I have heard many stories firsthand. In time, I’m sure you’ll be told too.”

  Verena, who had been listening avidly, as she always was when any type of tale was told, no matter what the subject, suddenly screeched in delight. “Look Papa! I lost my first tooth!”

  Before Karl could even take the offered tooth and give his daughter a word of praise for her bravery, Alex again showed extreme irritation for this unwanted interruption, and being angry for taking away his father’s attention from him he shouted, “Now you look even uglier!”

  Karl, speechless, his mouth going dry and a vein swelling on his forehead, forced himself to stay calm. “Would you repeat to me what you have just said, Alex?” he inquired sternly.

  “You mean that Verena now looks even uglier?” Alex answered with a shrug of indifference.

  “What to do now?” Karl thought, reaching over to his completely unaffected daughter, touching and stroking her face gently. “Verena, look at me,” he said just as softly. “Has Alex ever said this to you before?”

  “He doesn’t mean it, Papa.”

  “How do you know that, dear child?”

  “Grandmother and Grandfather said it, when he was still with us. And the servants. Just everyone I know,” she answered and tried her utmost to smile with a closed mouth, not to show the cavity of her missing tooth.

  “To your father, you do, and will always look very beautiful, even if you have no teeth at all, so open your mouth when you smile. And you know what’s more important than beauty? That you are so very kind, smart, and also that you have the most immaculate manners I have ever encountered in anyone! I am so very proud of you,” he said, hugging her tightly.

  This time she managed a smile, not worrying about her missing tooth. He hugged her again, wondering how long his son had been allowed to torment this lovely and well-mannered child with this inexcusable behavior.

  “I’ll bring you to your bedroom now, Verena, and we’ll talk some more,” he said kindly, leading her out of the room and leaving Alex standing there alone. The child did not even know what this was all about, but also had never before had to cope with rejection, let alone that of his father, who said sharply to him, “I’ll send your governess for you!” And stopping short halfway into the hallway, he turned to say, “The way I feel about you at the moment, I don’t believe that we are going to play games, nor do I want to hear stories from you until I’ve instructed you on how a gentleman behaves, Alex. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Alex nodded defiantly.

  “Good
night, brother,” Verena chirped kindly.

  He, however, was too stunned to answer. It had been the first time anyone, and especially Verena, had gotten the upper hand on him.

  “Miss Juliana! Has my son been permitted to insult his little sister? If he has, we do have a problem,” he questioned Verena’s governess, sternly explaining his son’s behavior, scrutinizing her face for her reaction.

  “Yes, Mr. Reinhardt, there is a problem, and if I may say so, it has existed for quite a long time. Any suggestion, however slight, on my part, has so far been immediately rebuked, instructing me that Alex would grow out of it in time.”

  “Well, I’ll see to it that he will have outgrown it at this very moment! Why don’t you bring the boy to his playroom? I’ve left him standing in the parlor.”

  Juliana rushed out with a “Yes, sir” and soon brought an unusually chastened boy to his room across from Verena’s, where Hilda, his own governess, was waiting.

  “Have the boy pick up all of his tin and wooden soldiers and put them away. He is not to play. Any sign of disobedience will be reported to me immediately!”

  Both governesses looked up, astounded, never having witnessed an outburst from any of the Reinhardts, and were just able to stutter a subdued, “Yes, sir.”

  Karl returned to Verena’s room, considerably calmer. “Your Papa will make sure that Alex will never again say a bad word to you! That is a promise!”

  She gave him a grateful look and waved to him as he left again to enter Alex’s room. Having both governesses present, Karl looked visibly upset. The games had been put away, but his son was still showing the same indifferent face as before, not even seeming to acknowledge his father’s reentering the room. Juliana and Hilda had always secretly admired Karl’s aristocratic good looks. His piercing blue eyes were now wandering from one to the other in an oppressive silence.