Inherit the Past

by Susan Finlay

  Tobias laughed.

  Max looked around and couldn’t believe how different the town looked by day. The narrow streets, quiet and vacant last night, were now bustling with activity. Many of the buildings, mostly those which were three-stories high with the second and third-stories overhanging the street, contained open storefronts on the ground level. One man they immediately noticed in a butcher’s oilskin apron stood in front of his shop. Butchered pigs, chickens, and goats dangled from the rafters and blood trickled down onto the cobblestone and mingled with dirt and soot.

  Lotte shuddered and Sofie put her hand over her mouth. Both women looked away. Tobias scrunched his nose and Ryan grimaced, but both of them, like Max, continued staring at the carcasses until they moved past the shop.

  A white-haired man, wearing a leather apron, sat in front of a display of candles of various shapes and sizes. He was melting what appeared to be fat from meat to make another candle. Max whispered to Sofie, “I thought people made their own candles in this era.”

  “Most did. I suppose nobles and wealthy merchants might buy ready-made candles.”

  Max nodded. As he studied the street-scene, he was reminded of renaissance festivals he’d visited over the years, where workers and some of the visitors had dressed in medieval clothing, bringing a faux depiction of life in early centuries, only this was the real thing. Horseback riders and drivers of farm wagons and Berlin carriages jousted the right away, and sometimes seemed willing to run down pedestrians. Horse dung littered the streets. A crumpled old woman with a walking-stick at one point was knocked down by one of the riders. Max started toward her to help, but Sofie grabbed his arm and said, “You shouldn’t get involved.” No one else seemed to care. As they watched, the old woman, apparently uninjured, at least not seriously, got to her knees and used the walking stick to lever herself up, dusted herself off, and ambled away.

  A squealing pig with a filthy snout waddled away from a merchant’s stall and stopped in front of several sacks stacked up next to a booth. It stuck its snout into one of the bags, and when it pulled it back out, the snout was covered with grain. Max shuddered. Would someone be cooking the grain from that bag after the pig was done?

  The stench was even worse this morning than it had been last night, perhaps because the streets were now crowded with unwashed people, livestock, and the grunge flung from above. In front of most of the shops were signs with pictures or symbols, such as a gilded boot or a barber’s basin, depicting the wares for sale. Max leaned in close to Sofie and whispered, “As long as I can see and smell I might be able to interpret enough to get by in this town. What do you think?”

  She chuckled softly. “Don’t get too comfortable yet.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “So, what should we do now, hon?” he asked, smiling at her.

  “I have no idea. This is going to be harder than we realized. Perhaps we should go back to the cave. We may have missed something.”

  Two women in second-story windows called out to passersby, while a group of children raced past in pursuit of frantic squawking chickens. Barking dogs trailed behind, making Tobias laugh.

  Max shook his head. Turning back to Sofie, he said, “Well, we’re already here. Seems a waste to leave now, without even trying. My grandfather and mother might still be here in this town, don’t you think?”

  Sofie sighed. “It’s possible, but don’t get your hopes up. They could be anywhere—even in a different time period, for all we know.”

  “Yeah, but we’ve gotta think positive,” Max said.

  “Yeah, Mom. He’s right,” Tobias said. “You shouldn’t get discouraged.”

  Ryan said, “They could be dead. I remember some things from my World History Class. They said in the old days, people lived in filth and were surrounded by disease and plagues and they died much younger.”

  Max gave him a warning look that told him, he hoped, to stop talking like that. Though the boy was right, they didn’t need to dwell on the negative.

  “I get it, Dad. You want me to whitewash everything. You want to be in control of everything. Fine. I just hope you don’t get us all killed.”

  Max wanted to scream at his son at that moment, but held his retort. The last thing he needed was to create a scene. The boy had been making smart-ass remarks off and on ever since they’d left the U.S. Most were put-downs aimed at his father. Max couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Ryan held him in such contempt. He’d had about all he could take of the attitude. They had enough problems to deal with.

  Max turned to Sofie instead and said, “I’d like to check around town. Maybe ask some of the people if they know either of them.”

  “I guess we can try.”

  “Are you all right?” Max asked, noting Sofie’s negative mood.

  “I guess. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

  “Yeah, and pretty miserable here,” Max said. “I hope Gramps hasn’t made any enemies here. That’s all we would need.” He scratched his head. “You know, maybe we should ask about my mom, instead. Hollander’s gotta be a less common name, right?”

  Ryan turned his back on them and walked away. Max yelled out for him to come back. Ryan ignored him. Lotte followed Ryan over to one of the merchant booths.

  Sofie and Max watched, but didn’t intervene. Sofie said, “Your mother could be using a different surname. Hollander would stand out more, which would make it easier to find her, but she may have used Kimmel or some other name to fit in better.”

  “Well, we could ask about Karl and Monika Kimmel. Somebody in town might know one or both of them.”

  “Maybe.” Sighing once more, she gave a half-smile and said, “Where do we start?”

  “I was kind of hoping you’d have a suggestion. Not much of a leader, am I? Unfortunately, I’m pretty much useless around this town. Your aunt seemed to want to come back here. Maybe she has an idea or plan.”

  Sofie walked over to where Lotte was standing and spoke to her, then returned to Max.

  “She said that we have a better chance of getting help here in Riesen. Perhaps we can get food and lodging. She’s adamant that she doesn’t want to sleep outside again.”

  Max said, “I’m all for that.”

  “I asked her again if she knows something about the time traveling. I told her it could save our lives. She shrugged and looked away.”

  “What do you think? Is she lying?”

  “I wish I knew. I asked her again if she knew your grandparents. My grandfather obviously did. And she’s his sister. I asked if she knows how to find Karl and Monika. She said no to both questions.”

  “But you don’t believe her?”

  “That’s just it. I remember seeing her talking with the elderly woman who pushed the cart—the woman we now know was Margrit. It was about two months ago. They’d stopped on the road near the city gate. I watched them for several minutes. At first I thought Tante Lotte was buying one of her aprons, but she walked away empty-handed and the women waved to each other.”

  “I hate to say this because she’s your family, but we should keep an eye on her.”

  Sofie nodded. “She did at least suggest we try the church. That seems logical.” She looked down at her skirt, and added, “We still have to worry about our clothing, though.”

  Max nodded, too. “I guess we’ll have to chance it. But we would be wise to avoid that shoemaker’s shop.”

  THE CHURCH WAS easy to find, having still existed in their time. Sofie and Lotte went inside and soon found the priest, a gray-haired man who, seeing them, asked if they wanted the confessional. Sofie declined, telling him they would do that later when they had more time.

  “What we really need to know, Father, is if you know some family members we’re searching for. One is Monika Hollander. Her family name is Kimmel.”

  He shook his head.

  “The other is her father, Karl Kimmel. He would be around eighty years old.”

  “Hmm,” he said, rubbing his beard. “Th
at name sounds vaguely familiar.”

  Sofie smiled and relaxed her shoulders for the first time since they’d arrived back in town.

  The priest touched her hand. “Don’t get your hopes up, Fräulein. I’m new to this Parish. I may well be mistaken. At my age I tend to mix up names. I would suggest you check around town—perhaps at the stables. The blacksmith sees and hears many things. He would likely know. And of course there’s the tavern.”

  After thanking the priest and taking their leave, they weren’t sure where to find the stables. Sofie told Max, Ryan, and Tobias what the priest had said, while Lotte walked over to talk to a woman working at one of the merchant stalls. The woman pointed down the street. Lotte rejoined the group and told Sofie she now knew how to find the stables. Upon arrival, the group had to wait around for the blacksmith to finish with patrons. It was already late afternoon when they questioned the blacksmith, and then the man wouldn’t stop talking. He told them stories and joked around, but they didn’t get any information that helped. What Sofie did discover, though, was that most people here spoke a low-German, which both she and Lotte struggled to understand.

  Leaving the stables, they walked through town over cobbled streets and dirt roads. By now, many of the shops were already closing. Sofie was tired and discouraged. It was obvious from the slumped shoulders and sluggish pace of her companions that they felt the same.

  Max stopped in front of what appeared to be the tavern, based on the signpost showing a mug of ale, and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should go inside. We could see if anyone in the tavern can help.”

  “The priest suggested it,” Sofie said, “but I’m not sure we can do this. Tante Lotte, Tobias, and I are the only ones who speak the language, and we’re the ones who shouldn’t go inside.”

  “Yeah, I see your point,” he said, kicking himself internally for not taking his high school German class more seriously. When he took the class, he didn’t care about learning the language. He’d figured Spanish was the only other language he would need. “What if you and I went in together—as husband and wife? Would that be acceptable? I could be from another country, which is true.”

  “You obviously haven’t seen some of the leers I’ve seen. These men are barbaric.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did actually. Sorry. I wouldn’t ask you to do it if it wasn’t important. If it helps any, Ryan and I still have our pocketknives.”

  Looking not too comfortable, but smiling thinly, Sofie gave in. “All right.”

  He pulled open the heavy door, and said, “After you, my dear.”

  The taproom was full; rowdy men played a lively card game at a table in the corner while others sat around swigging down tankards of ale. Sofie hesitated a moment. Max put his hand on her shoulder, and together they edged through the crowd. The men whistled and made ribald remarks, as expected, even with Max staying close to her.

  Max didn’t understand their words, but there was no mistaking the gestures being made. It angered Max, making him immediately want to punch out several of the disgusting men. Max was never a particularly physical type, but these men really were asking for it. However, logic won out for the moment. They were strangers in a strange land and he restrained himself, knowing they had a mission to accomplish. But he was ready to spring into action if necessary. And perhaps he could punch at least one of the drunken sots after they got what they wanted.

  Sofie spoke in German to a group of the men. Max heard her say his grandfather’s name. Several men responded, and then one man made a grab for Sofie’s buttocks. Before she could react, Max reached out, whacked the man’s hand away with his fist, took hold of Sofie’s arm, and pulled her away from the raucous horde of men.

  “I’m sorry, Sofie,” Max said when they were outside again. “You were right. I should not have sent you in there. I was desperate, but that’s no excuse. Are you all right?”

  Apparently still a bit shaken, but recovering, she nodded.

  Max was upset with himself for putting Sofie in harm’s way, but with curiosity and need superseding his concern, he asked, “What did they say? They sure talked a lot. Did they know anything about my grandfather?”

  “One man said he’s a clockmaker here in Riesen, but he might have made that up. Could it be right? Could your grandfather make a living here as a clockmaker?”

  Max smacked his forehead with his fist. “Good grief! What is wrong with me? Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Sofie and the rest of the group looked to see what Max’s sudden outburst was about. “My mother told us one time that my grandfather started out as an apprentice at a clock shop. Several years later, when a large clock factory moved into town and put the small shop out of business, Gramps had no choice but to go to work for the factory. Eventually, he changed professions and worked as a cook in a restaurant. My mom spent a lot of time waiting tables in that same restaurant when she was a teenager. So yeah, Karl could likely be a clockmaker in this time.”

  Looking suddenly excited, Sofie replied, “We should be able to find out where a clockmaker’s shop is located. Let’s go.”

  Seeing Sofie’s quick recovery tore at Max’s heartstring. She was not only beautiful, but brave, kind and gentle. “I’m really sorry. About the tavern business. I’m not usually such a jerk. Please forgive me.”

  “It’s okay. Really. And we did find out something quite useful, which made it worth it.”

  Grinning, Max realized he was growing quite fond of this German fräulein. “Where do we go from here? I don’t want to risk being a jerk again. You should you call the shots for a while.”

  Sofie laughed. “I guess maybe we should walk around a bit and watch for a clockmaker sign.”

  AS THEY STROLLED, the sun began to fade into late evening. Sofie knew the others were counting on her. If they didn’t find Karl today, they would have to face another difficult night without shelter. The smell of rain was in the air. What would they do if it rained?

  “Mom, I’m tired. Can we stop and rest? It’s almost dark. Almost everyone’s closed up.”

  “We need to find the clockmaker shop first,” Sofie said. “Then we’ll rest, okay?”

  She ruffled Tobias’s hair but he pulled away, looking glum.

  Minutes later, as they passed several more houses further up the road, Max pointed at a sign that looked promising. It turned out to be a jeweler’s shop. The merchant, a middle-aged woman, was locking up but Sofie managed to ask about Karl and Monika at the door. Unfortunately, she only shrugged and said she didn’t know them, then shut the door.

  Tobias asked, “What are we going to do now?”

  Glancing at Max and not paying attention to where she was walking, Sofie tripped over something, taking a tumble to her hands and knees.

  “Are you all right?” He helped her to her feet.

  “Yes.” She looked back to see what she’d fallen over. It was a trapdoor protruding out onto the pavement. “As embarrassing as that was, the stupid trapdoor gives me an idea. The Riesen of our time had many cellars, tunnels, and alcoves. Do you remember that little alcove that had a staircase tucked within? You wondered where it went.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember. We were beginning to search for the house.”

  “Well, perhaps this covers one of the cellar stairs that could lead to a vacant warehouse . . . .”

  “Ah, I like the way you think,” Max said. “We could sleep there tonight.”

  “But what if it leads into a dungeon?” Tobias asked.

  “Then we’ll sleep in the dungeon,” Sofie said, and then smiled at her son.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MAX LOOKED AT Sofie and then at the trapdoor, which was closed but not padlocked. “What do you think? Should we check this out?”

  Sofie bit her lip. There wasn’t any way to tell from the outside what they might find. That was true of all the cellar stairways. They were taking a risk no matter which ones they tried. She nodded, hoping she wasn’t leading them astray.<
br />
  “Okay, I’ll go down first and see what’s in there,” Max said. “The rest of you can wait here ‘til I come back.”

  “No. I should do it,” Sofie said. “It’s kind of you to offer, but if someone speaks to you, you won’t know how to respond.”

  “Hmm. I know what you’re saying, but it could be dangerous.” As soon as she started to reach down for the trapdoor, Max bent down and lifted it up. “Just please be careful. I don’t like having you take risks.”

  While he held it open, she smiled at him and stepped down a stone staircase into the darkness. At the bottom, she reached out her arms, found a metal door, and opened it. Peering inside, she caught her breath at the unexpected sight. Candles flickered and smoked, providing enough light to make out a dozen or more people of all ages huddled together. Two chickens pecked at each other, while a couple pigs and mangy sheep chewed on dirty straw that covered most of the brick floor. Urine and feces—human and animal—was everywhere and the stench made her gag. An old woman, sitting off to one side, convulsed in a coughing fit, making the baby she was holding cry. Sofie backed up as quietly as possible, closed the door, and darted up the steps.

  She motioned for the others to follow her away from there. “We might as well find a barn to sleep in,” Sofie said under her breath.

  Max must have heard her, for he turned his head and glanced at her. “Why? What did you see?”

  Sofie shuddered suddenly. “It was—how should I say this? I’ve read about poverty in Germany in early centuries, but seeing it first-hand is sad and horrifying. It’s no wonder disease ran rampant. Those people down there are living like animals, amongst animals. It doesn’t look like it was only a one or two night stay. They were living there in squalor. It makes me afraid of what could happen to us.”

  At the next entrance, Max said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see this one.” He went down and came back a couple of minutes later. “Wow, that’s disgusting! This one is also as you described. Now what?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s starting to sprinkle.” Thunder cracked overhead and she shivered slightly. “We really need to find shelter in a hurry, before the rain becomes heavy.”