by Susan Finlay
“Some locals are distrustful, I agree.”
“Is that why they don’t speak English in Riesen? I mean, I was kinda surprised, because I’d always heard that English was commonly taught in German schools. Is that only in the big cities?”
“Hmm, well, I believe some people in Riesen speak English, the younger ones, anyway. Perhaps they didn’t want you to know because that would mean they should help you.”
What else could she say? She couldn’t really explain something that she didn’t fully understand, that quite a few people here seemed suspicious of strangers—strangers which included her. After living here full-time for a year and being the granddaughter of Vikktor Sonnenberg, who had grown up here, she should have been readily accepted, and yet was still an outsider.
Max gave her an odd look, making Sofie glance away. When she turned back toward him, he was no longer looking at her. She followed his gaze. Her nine-year-old son stood in the doorway, his curly blond hair wind-tousled and his cheeks extra rosy.
She smiled and motioned for him to sit while she fetched another plate. As she sat back down, she noticed the males eyeing each other. “I’m sorry. I forgot introductions. This is my son, Tobias. He was playing at a friend’s house. I guess he just got home.”
“Glad to meet you young man.” Max introduced himself and his son. After wiping his hands on his napkin again, he reached out and shook Tobias’s hand. “Do you speak English?”
Tobias smiled shyly and said, “You’re American?”
“Yes, I am. Have you ever been to America?”
Tobias suddenly turned and looked at his mom.
“We lived there for several years,” she said.
“Ah. That explains your excellent English. Where? What state?”
Sofie looked at Tobias, then back at Max. “I’d rather hear about your family. How did you end up in the U.S. if your mother’s parents were here?”
“She was working in Munich. She met an American man who was going to the university there. They dated and eventually married. Her parents weren’t happy. Said they were too young. She was eighteen and he was twenty. When he went back to the states, she went with him.”
“You said she came back to visit a few times.”
“Yeah, the last time she came here was twenty years ago. She never returned home. She and her father went missing. No one ever heard from them again.”
Tobias and Ryan looked at each other, their mouths wide open.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about that, Dad? That’s something I’d be interested in.”
Max shrugged.
“I’ve heard a few similar stories here,” Sofie said. “I suppose that’s common all over the world.”
“Yeah, we hear it occasionally in California.”
That reminded Sofie of an incident when she was a little girl, probably six or seven years old. She and her grandfather had come back to Riesen for the summer. He’d wanted to show her around the area where he’d grown up. He’d told her that one day she would inherit his house, and he wanted her to keep it even if she didn’t choose to live in it. While they were visiting, two toddlers supposedly disappeared from their beds. No one ever saw them again. She hadn’t thought of that in years. More recently, someone claimed to have seen someone vanish before his eyes. His story was discounted as the ravings of a vagrant alcoholic and drug-user. Sofie couldn’t recall the details. She’d also heard various stories, mostly legends and old-wives’ tales; it couldn’t be helped, she supposed, being that they were near the land that had produced and inspired the Brothers Grimm.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me find my grandmother’s house, would you?” Max asked, pulling Sofie out of her thoughts.
“Say yes, Mom. I want to help.”
‘No’ was on the tip of her tongue, as it usually was when anyone suggested she do something outside of her normal routine—except, she reminded herself, when it came to necessary work, such as trimming the ivy on the front of her house. The ivy, her near fall, Max saving her . . . well, she did owe him, didn’t she? Besides, Max’s and Tobias’s faces were so hopeful, and she didn’t have any real pressing work to do. A distraction from the dreariness that had become her life wouldn’t be completely unwelcome, would it? At last, she smiled, and said, “I guess I could do that.”
CHAPTER TWO
“SIT FOR A while,” Sofie said, “while I clean up the kitchen. Close your eyes and relax.”
“Oh, no, I can’t do that,” Max said. How many times had he heard a woman say that and then gripe about it later? “Let me wash the dishes.”
Sofie smiled and shook her head. “No, no. You’ve had a rough day. Rest. I insist.”
“Well, okay, then. I’ll rest my eyes for a couple of minutes.” Sitting on his chair at the kitchen table, Max stretched out his long legs, placed his hands in his lap, and closed his eyes. With his stomach full and his body relaxed, his mind quickly drifted off, feeling at peace, until the sound of someone snoring startled him and made him jump. He glanced at his watch. He’d slept for twenty minutes, when he’d only intended to rest a few moments. Sofie was smiling and obviously trying to keep from laughing. Heat crept up his neck. Covering his embarrassment the best he could, he asked, “Do you need some help with the dishes?” He scooted his chair back and started to rise.
“No, I’m fine. Sit.”
Damn, he didn’t want to sit on his butt while she worked. That was one of the many things Jenny had griped about before their divorce. But traipsing around a medieval German town, especially when he’d gone in circles, had taken a toll on him mentally and physically. Okay, this time, maybe sit just a couple more minutes.
As he watched Sofie put the dishes away in her antique-looking buffet cabinet, he thought about Jenny and the early days of their marriage, the happier days when they’d lived in a ‘starter home’, which translated to crammed and outdated, when they didn’t have a dishwasher, and the twins had fought over which one would wash and which one would dry. That was when the twins were old enough to do some chores but still young enough that they thought it was fun. Why couldn’t things have stayed that way?
Five minutes later, Sofie wiped her hands on a towel and looked at Max. “All done. Are you feeling any better?” she asked, brushing loose strands of silky-smooth blonde hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “You look a bit rested, but not happier.”
“I feel much better,” he lied. No sense bringing up old wounds. “I was thinking about my trip and how differently things are going today from what I expected. We flew into Stuttgart yesterday, checked into a hotel, and then went out to eat in a Biergarten. Drank beer, of course, and ate bockwurst and sauerkraut and potato dumplings. I think the dumplings were called Kartoffelknödel. Better than any German food I ever ate in the states. I didn’t know German food could taste that good. Anyway, the next morning it was actually easy to catch the train to Riesen. It was all going very well. So you can probably imagine how dumbfounded I was when I immediately ran into problems here. I don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t met you.”
“I’m pleased I was able to help.” She paused, giving him an odd look that he couldn’t decipher. “I’m afraid to even think about what would have happened to me if you hadn’t come to my rescue. Balancing on ladders, as you can see, is not one of my talents.”
“Thank God you didn’t fall on the cobblestones.” He shuddered. “If you want, I’ll climb up the ladder and finish clipping the ivy for you. Shouldn’t take too long. I’ve had plenty of experience on ladders. As I said, I’m an architect, and while I don’t do the actual construction, I’ve been on plenty of ladders and scaffolding in my career. I don’t mind heights at all.”
“Oh, thanks for the offer but I think I can finish the rest from inside the house. Now that I got one window sash freed up, I can open that window and lean out to trim around the other sash.”
“Please. No. Let me do it. If you fell out the window, I’d ne
ver forgive myself.”
She smiled. “Okay, I give in. But not until after we find your grandmother’s house. You can come back later and trim the ivy, yes?”
“Sure. Your house, your rules.”
He felt a yawn coming on and tried to stifle it, but it was too big to hold back.
“You’re still tired. Why don’t you lie down on the sofa for a while and sleep?”
“No. I’m fine, really.” Max smiled. “Where are the boys?”
“Upstairs. Playing video games. I’m surprised they didn’t wake you up with their cheers and laughter.”
He nodded. “I guess video games are understandable in any language.”
“I’m finished here in the kitchen. Are you ready to look for your grandmother’s house now?” She wiped her hands on a towel and looked at Max.
He nodded, stood up, and followed her into the hallway.
Suddenly, she stopped and turned toward Max. “I forgot to tell you something. I’m afraid we’ll have to walk. I’m really sorry. You probably noticed that we don’t have a lot of cars in town. That’s not uncommon in these old medieval towns because many of the streets are too narrow and there isn’t enough parking.”
“Not a problem,” Max said. “Now that I got off my feet for a while I’m fine. I think I might look for my sneakers, though, before we go. They’re buried in my bag.”
Near the front door, he picked up his duffel bag, opened it, and rummaged through his belongings. He pulled some clothes out onto the floor and finally found the shoes he was looking for. While he changed his shoes and restuffed his duffel, Sofie called Tobias and Ryan to come downstairs.
A few moments later, they came tramping down the stairs, sounding like a herd of elephants. She told them they’d be going for a walk to the library. “We’ll talk to the librarian. She knows practically everyone in town and will probably know where Margrit Kimmel lived.”
“Now there’s a capital idea,” Max said, smiling. “It’s something I should have thought of. Guess my brain is lagging behind the jet.”
Sofie, Ryan, and Tobias all laughed.
SOFIE NOTICED MAX limping slightly as they walked along the cobbled lanes. “Are you sure you’re all right walking?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just not used to these shoes. Bought them right before I left on the trip.” Looking around and changing the subject, he continued. “I can’t help admiring some of the architecture here.” Looking up at the buildings across the street, he shielded his eyes from the sun. “This city is like an art museum, what with all the corbelling, statues, monuments, and Baroque-style churches. Oh, and you know, I’ve always been fascinated by those onion-shaped domes on the churches.” He stopped and leaned down to peek into an alcove that had a double staircase tucked within, one side going up and one side going underground. “Cool! Any idea where this goes?”
“No, sorry. Perhaps we can explore it later. Riesen is full of these hideaways. I’ve only been inside a few of them myself. We have cellars and underground warehouses, basement apartments. I’ve even heard there’s an underground art museum.”
His eyes sparkled like a child’s and Sofie couldn’t help but picture a curious little boy being pulled away from a treasure chest.
“Oh, I’d love to see that,” he said.
“Me too,” Tobias said.
Ryan looked at them and waved his hand. “Hey guys, I’ll catch up with you later. I’m going exploring on my own.”
“No you are not! You’ll get to explore all you want in Europe on your own—after we find the house and settle some things there. That’s what we agreed on.”
Ryan glared at his father, but didn’t reply. Sofie studied father and son. They looked a lot alike and shared some of the same mannerisms. Both were tall, lanky, and attractive, especially when they smiled. They had the same smile, actually. At least she thought so—though she hadn’t seen the son smile very often. There seemed to be an antagonism between them. She supposed that was common between fathers and teenage sons, perhaps more common in the U.S. than in Germany.
Further up the road, Max said, “These ivy covered buildings and moss covered roof tiles remind me of my college days. My favorite thing about Bavarian architecture, though, are the white-washed houses with colorful frescoes on the walls. Somehow, I think about fairy-tales whenever I see them.”
He paused, looking deep in thought. Sofie wondered what was going on in his head. Before she could ask, he said, “You know, this morning this place was really confusing. I was sure that I’d repeatedly passed several renaissance and baroque buildings, like a cathedral we saw with the numbers ‘1778’ engraved on the stone.” He shook his head, grinning. “At one point I actually felt as though I was a mouse trapped in a scientist’s maze; each time I thought I was going in a new direction, I ended up back where I’d already been.”
“I know what you mean. Riesen is laid-out in medieval style; some streets are straight while others are twisty and deceiving. It’s quite confusing, I’m afraid.”
“I sure wish we’d known beforehand. Once we finally found and took stairs leading up to the sentry walk on the town wall, I began to see the problem. The streets literally branch out in all directions from the central plaza. And the city is larger than I’d originally estimated. In the beginning it seemed tiny compared to the cities I’m used to. I guess I let that lull me into thinking it would be a snap getting around. Boy was I wrong.”
Sofie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled.
“It’s really unusual that it’s circular,” he said. “At least to us Americans.”
“It’s that medieval-style again. Many cities in Europe started out that way, for protection, although most have branched out and no longer appear circular. I can think of several here in Germany, though, that remain somewhat round. Riesen’s fifteenth century rampart still completely encircles the city. And you are correct. The Marktplatz is in the center, with five main streets branching off it, each leading to one of the five gateways. It’s really quite ingenious. The city has outgrown its wall in recent years. Again, the ‘new’ city is no longer round.”
“I think when we get our house affairs settled I’ve got some major sightseeing to do.”
“Here we are, at the library,” she said as she pulled open a glass door. The three male entourage followed her into the library and waited when she stopped at the front desk to ask for the librarian. A few minutes later, Karin Hoffmann—a friend of Sofie’s—appeared from a back room. Sofie made the introductions, told Karin that Max and Ryan were from the U.S. and didn’t speak German, and explained why they were there.
“Who was your grandmother, Herr Hollander?” Karin asked in English.
When Max gave it to her, her eyes widened. “Margrit Kimmel was your grandmother?”
Max nodded. “Did you know her?”
“Most people around here knew her by sight, though probably not by name.” She hesitated, making Sofie wonder why. “It is awkward telling you this,” Karin continued, “but she was known as ‘Die verruckte Hexe’.” She looked at Sofie, and said, “My English is not very good. I don’t know the English term, do you?”
Sofie now knew whom Karin was talking about. She had, of course, heard whispers in town. She wished she didn’t have to break the news to Max and Ryan. Finally, she said, “it means ‘The Crazy Witch’. I’m sorry.”
Max gave her a lopsided smile. “That’s okay. She sounded like quite a character, from mom’s description. Very old-fashioned, superstitious, that sort of thing.”
“I did see her in town sometimes, I remember now,” Sofie admitted. “I didn’t know she was your grandmother, and I don’t believe we ever spoke. Not because of the nickname people gave her. She was eccentric, and many people did believe the rumors, but that doesn’t mean she was crazy or a witch.”
“Now I really do wish I’d come here sooner and met her.”
“Well, now I know where the house is.” She turned to the libra
rian and said in German, “The house is outside the city wall, is that right, Karin?”
“Ja. Past the old mill.”
As they left the library, Sofie suggested they go back to her house first and gather a few supplies—food, drinks, flashlights—to take along. Since Margrit had been gone for almost three weeks, it was likely the food in her house would be spoilt and the electricity might be turned off.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stop at a market to get groceries?” Max asked on their way back to Sofie’s house.
“No, we have plenty of food. We’ll pack up a picnic lunch and a few extra things to last you and Ryan a few days. We can take as much as we can carry.”
“Thank you. That sounds good to me,” Max said, musing. “You know, this could actually be fun.”
CHAPTER THREE
MAX FOLLOWED SOFIE into the kitchen while Tobias and Ryan were sent off to gather flashlights and extra batteries. Again, he felt like a lazy slacker, standing around idly and watching Sofie pull out some cloth bags from a drawer, open each and set them on the countertop, and then retrieve a cooler from a cupboard and fill it with ice. She handed bread, lunch meats, and cheeses to Max and asked him to pack them away, which finally gave him something to do. “The boys seemed to get along well,” he said as he worked. “How old is your son?”
“He’s nine. And yours?”
“Eighteen. Just graduated from high school.”
The boys returned with their loot. Sofie had meanwhile gathered up crackers, chips, cookies, and bottled water, which she handed over to the boys to pack.
Max heard the front door open, and turned his head in surprise. Up until then he’d assumed Sofie and Tobias lived alone. What an idiot. I should have known better. Bracing himself, he turned around to face her husband, hoping the guy wouldn’t punch him in the face because he thought Max was trying to seduce his wife.