Strangers in Vienna

by Angela L.

  “Here he comes.” I noticed the man in the picture walk through the door. He was looking around, trying to see if he recognized any faces. I don’t know which picture Liam sent him, but I didn’t think it was a good one or else he wouldn’t have stood by the door like an idiot for ten minutes.

  “Patric?” I called out.

  He looked at me and smiled. “Hi. Are you guys Demi and Liam?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” he said and sat down. “I’m sorry, but my English may not be that good.” He paused between every few words.

  “We just want to say thank you so much for considering to donate your kidney to her. Like, wow, thank you,” Liam said.

  “It’s okay. So, tell me about yourselves,” Patric said.

  “I’m Demi’s manager. I was born and raised in Los Angeles and I’m single because I’m pretty much married to my job,” Liam joked.

  “Well, I live in Los Angeles, but I’m actually from a sucky town and thank goodness I ended up in the city. I’m a professional songwriter and I, well, I have kidney failure, but you already know that,” I said. “What about you?”

  “I work at the art museum and it’s the best job that I could possibly ask for. I have two wonderful kids and I’m expecting a third one, which, to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready for another screaming child,” he joked.

  “You got past the first two, I’m sure you’ll get past another one,” I said.

  “I don’t know about that. The first two already drive me crazy, but they’re my kids and they’re wonderful, so what can I do, huh?”

  Liam chuckled. “Now I feel bad for my mother. She had four kids.”

  “Wait, you have siblings?” I asked Liam, surprised. I’d always thought he was an only child. I’d been to his place a couple of times and the only family pictures he had were of his parents and a few cousins.

  “Of course, just don’t ask to see them. I can’t stand them and two of them are twins. Can you imagine how annoying it is to watch two li’l brats whining at the same time?"

  Patric chuckled. “That’s just like me with my brother. I can’t stand him. What about you? Any annoying siblings?”

  “Nope, fortunately I grew up as an only child,” I responded.

  “You’re lucky, but doesn’t it also get lonely?” Patric asked.

  “Well, yeah, sometimes, but I got my friends,” I said. “Just wondering, but why do you want to donate your kidney to me? For free?”

  Patric chuckled. “My brother had organ failure and a total stranger donated his kidney to him. It was a miracle. A complete stranger had the goodness in his heart to help out my brother, so now I’m doing the same for you,” he said.

  “Can we meet your brother sometime?” Liam asked.

  “I could ask him, but I doubt that he would show up. My brother’s a—what do you call them?—a hooligan.” Patric laughed.

  “Why me, though? There are a bunch of other people who probably need it more than I do,” I said.

  “Well, I guess life just dealt you a good card,” he said.

  I laughed. “That reminds me of somebody who used to say something like that.”

  “Well, small world,” he said.

  Chapter Four

  (August 3, 1999, in Vienna)

  The procedure wasn’t until a week after today but I was already nervous.

  Liam went to visit a friend he once knew so I decided to finally get out of my lonely hotel room and explore dear old Vienna.

  Krems an der Donau still hosted many tourists. I strolled past the cozy bakery where Alaric and I stayed for the night years ago. The little boy was no longer there handing out free samples in his adorable chef suit. He was probably all grown up now in school or something.

  The streetlamps still had cobwebs on them and the guy who was selling his apples was still there. He looked much older and tired, but his smile had never changed. It was the same pure and innocent smile that I remembered from back then. Well, before we crashed into his apple cart and ruined everything. It was satisfying that there were still people today who sought pleasure in the simplest things.

  “Willst du einen Apfel probieren?” He took a bright red apple from the top of the pile out of his cart and placed it in my hands.

  I didn’t actually need an apple, but I gave him some schillings anyway.

  “Du must nicht dafür bezahlen. Nimms dir.” He smiled and gave me back the money.

  “Thank you,” I told him even though I had no idea what he had just said. I carefully wrapped the apple in a white napkin before placing it in my bag for later.

  I made my way down the narrow stone paved streets to the clock tower. I opened the old door on the side of the building and slipped in. It was weird. Even though I’d only been to Krems an der Donau once, I felt as if I knew the corners and streets like I had just explored the place yesterday.

  Everything was dark except for the faint light that cast down from the top of the clock tower.

  I began to work my way up the stairs. What was once a terrifying journey up the stairs became a nostalgic longing to desperately reach the top. With every step, the metal bars creaked and although they gave me a slight feeling that I was about to fall over, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to see what I had seen six years ago.

  I climbed over the edge with my feet dangling in mid air as I pulled myself up. When I finally made it, I was facing the empty spaces of the clock and could see the dust floating in midair. On the right, I could see the railway station with various travelers rushing to catch their train as their luggage flew behind them. On the other side, the majestic lake slowly disappeared as it extended onward to who knew where. The sun was still up as it shone on tourists and shopkeepers persuading people to buy their merchandise.

  Just like before, the view before me took away my breath, and it made me feel like I was on top of the world. There was only a limited number of moments in your life where you had that feeling that you were invincible. That anything could happen.

  For that one second, I forgot my old life. I forgot about my health problems and my past. For that one second, I looked life in the eye, and I loved it.

  I trailed my finger across the clock parts and blew the dust off so that it looked like a bunch of tiny specks falling down.

  It was interesting, because I’d always wanted to move to various places to see the world. I wanted to go on adventures and explore the world to an extent that I could call every place home…yet the place where I truly felt at home was the place where it hurt the most.

  Everything felt perfect, except for the fact that he was missing.

  I sat down in one of the corners and got out my notepad and pencil and began to write with my heart beating fast at the sudden rush of bittersweet memories of him.

  ****

  I went back to my hotel room before I met with Liam to go eat dinner at Patric’s place.

  As I changed my old T-shirt into something more appropriate for dinner, my phone rang abruptly, startling me as I almost suffocated myself squeezing into a dress.

  “Hello?” I said. It was from an unknown number.

  “Guess who?” His ecstatic voice vibrated through the telephone.

  “Wow, Jacob, you suck at this.” I chuckled.

  “So, how’s Vienna?”

  “Pretty good, actually. I went to check out Krems an der Donau.”

  “Seriously? Is he still on your mind?” Jacob’s cynical voice bounced through the lines. After we left Missouri, I told Jacob all about Alaric and when I finished, all he said was, “I knew you didn’t just eat at lame cafés in the streets and do nothing!”

  “Not to crush your hopes and dreams, but you do realize there’s most likely a ninety-nine-point-nine percent chance that he’s dead right?”

  “Thank you, Jacob. Aren’t you just a big ball of sunshine?” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

  “Hey. It’s been six years. Time to move on, Demi,�
� Jacob said. It was harsh, but true.

  “Look, I know he probably passed away. I just visited for old times’ sake,” I explained even though I was lying to him and to myself.

  “No, you visited because he’s still on your mind,” he responded.

  “He passed away,” I said, but it seemed like I was trying to force myself to actually accept his death rather than convince Jacob that I was over him.

  “Not in your mind he hasn’t,” Jacob replied in his sassy tone of voice.

  “Anyway, I have to go. I have a dinner with my donor.”

  “Fine. Don’t have too much fun without me."

  “I won’t.” I chuckled and hung up the phone.

  When Liam and I arrived, we stood in front of Patric’s front door for a while, staring at the intricate carvings on the wood after realizing that he didn’t have a doorbell installed.

  “Just knock,” Liam said.

  I tapped the wooden door, hard, in case the people inside couldn’t hear.

  “Hi, you must be Demi and Liam!” A young woman with short blonde hair greeted us in her stained apron. I could already see her baby bump poking out from beneath the cloth.

  “And you must be Patric’s wife!” Liam said and gave her a tight hug.

  “I’m Teresa! Patric’s inside helping out in the kitchen.” She pointed behind her shoulders. “Come in.” She beckoned us to quickly step in.

  “We can help—"

  “No! You guys are the guests!” She gave us a don’t-be-ridiculous look.

  Their place smelled of old spices and homemade food. The furniture, the walls, the lighting, everything about the room made it look like the coziest place on earth. There was even a bookshelf across the room filled with homemade wooden carvings with intricate designs.

  “Did you guys make those?” I asked Teresa. “They’re really nicely done.”

  “Patric did. He loves working on those tiny little things right before bed. I keep telling him that someday he’s going to hurt himself, but he never listens to me.” Teresa sighed.

  “I’m a grown man. I think I can handle working a knife,” Patric said, coming from out the kitchen. “We’re having bratwurst and schweinebraten for dinner.” He sat down with us at the table while she went back to cooking. I had no idea what schweinebraten and bratwurst were, but from where we were sitting, it smelled as if heaven was getting closer by the second.

  “Great! Never tried them, but I'm excited,” Liam laughed.

  “So, how do you guys like Austria so far?” Patric asked us and poured us some water.

  “Pretty good. I visited some old friends,” Liam said and took a sip.

  “I can take you guys around Vienna sometime,” Patric suggested. “I’ll be like…” Patric paused as he searched for the right word. “…a tour guide.”

  “Sure. Only if you have time, though. We wouldn’t want to bother you,” Liam said.

  “I’ve got all the time in the world. The museum heard about what I was doing so they allowed me take a break for now,” Patric said.

  “Hey, don’t you have two kids?” I asked. I realized it was awfully quiet and kids are never quiet.

  “Yep. They’re both cleaning their rooms. They've been messy for weeks now, and it stinks so much.” Patric shook his head.

  “Can’t blame them. They’re just kids,” Liam said and pointed at a picture frame situated on a shelf. “Is that them?”

  “Yep. That was when they were around two to three years old.”

  I walked up to the picture frame to check out his kids. They were adorable with a good combination of features from him and Teresa. Without realizing at first, I began to explore the living room, looking at some of their photos. It was always interesting to go to someone else’s place, to see how they decorated things, what pictures they placed on stands and who was in them.

  I took a closer glance at the wooden carvings. There were probably about twenty of them. They were all carvings of different animals—the farm animals on the right, all the way to the tigers and other wildlife on the left. There was a stack of books that looked like they hadn’t been read in a while and next to it were rows and rows of pictures.

  As I looked from photo frame to photo frame, one caught my eye.

  I looked closely at the picture just in case I wasn’t seeing things.

  Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me. I didn’t know.

  I grabbed the wooden frame and stared at the boy in the picture. I felt my heart start beating faster than ever.

  Chapter Five

  (August 4, 1999, in Vienna)

  He’s alive. He’s here. He’s here in Vienna.

  My heart started pounding even harder with a million thoughts crashing together in my head. He’s actually alive.

  “You okay?” Patric stared at me. I realized I was gripping the photo frame like I was holding on to it for dear life.

  “Your brother. How is he?” I asked.

  Maybe his brother just coincidentally looked like him. Half of me was telling myself to just let it go, that the possibility was slim to none, but the other half of me believed.

  “You know him?” Patric looked at me curiously.

  “I guess you can say that,” I murmured.

  “Oh, wow. How?”

  “We, um, I guess you can say he was my personal guide around Austria when I came here a few years ago,” I said.

  “Guide? This boy should stick to one job.” Patric shook his head. “Currently, he’s an immature grownup who needs to grow up and should come home more often so that the rest of us don’t think he’s dead,” he joked.

  I’d already guessed where he could be before I asked Patric where I could find him.

  The moment he told me, I rushed out the door and ran as fast as I could. I ran so hard that my legs felt like they were going to fall off, but the entire time there was only one thought in my mind. He’s alive.

  I think I looked like a crazy person, racing down the streets like I was trying to race with a car.

  Everything zoomed past me and I was out of breath. My eyes were staring straight ahead and nothing else mattered besides the fact that I had to be there. The entire time, I prayed to God that I would see him there, but the other half of me told myself that it was too good to be true.

  The street near Marcel’s place still looked the same. The walls had crumbled and the vines looked like they were about to grow as high as a beanstalk. I saw the café, with the same old rusty lamp that was situated in front of the door and, like always, there were only a few people in there.

  And then…I saw him.

  It was like the universe planted him right next to me, pulled him along, and attached a string on both our hands.

  I watched him as he played his violin on the same spot where I’d first seen him seven years ago.

  He’d hardly changed. His hair was still ruffled, maybe even messier than before.

  His eyes were closed as always, but his fingers danced around the strings as if it was their own personal stage. Just like before, he was in his own world. It was just him and the music. I stood there, breathless, trying to process the whole image in my mind.

  There were people tossing coins in his violin case, but I knew he didn’t care about the money. All he wanted was to play his violin and make people smile. He wasn’t in it for the gold. He was in it for the taste of life.

  He suddenly stopped playing and took a bow, soaking in the round of applause from the big crowd that he had attracted.

  I quickly made myself disappear within the herd of people and I found myself walking away. My heart began to beat faster and all the memories started flooding back to me. I wanted to cry and scream, but I also wanted to go up to him and kiss him like it was our first kiss.

  I walked into the café. I didn’t know why, but my legs seemed like they had a mind of their own. I slowly sat down at the same table where he and I had first met, and when the waitress came over, I ordered a cof
fee and a Kaiserschmarrn.

  He was alive.

  I think I was still in denial. For the past seven years, he was the reason why I managed to find hope. He was the reason I kept moving forward.

  My heart hurt; I had never realized how much I missed him. I wasn’t hungry, so I started to take tiny bites of the Kaiserschmarrn, eating it raisin by raisin, piece by piece.

  As I was nibbling on my crumbs, Billy Joel’s song “Vienna” came up in my head, the lyrics replaying themselves and the melody echoing in my head.

  I would always listen to these lyrics for an hour before I fell asleep. This song was also my ringtone for quite a while. And every time I would lie in my bed and ask myself, “Am I actually satisfied?” I had my passion, my lyrics, my dream, but oddly enough, I would trade everything to just spend a day in Vienna with him. Even if it were for just one hour, I would.

  I guess…Vienna had always waited for me. Alaric…he was my Vienna.

  As I took a sip of my coffee, somebody sat down in the chair in front of me.

  I looked up, and I felt my heart drop back down to my feet.

  “Kaffee Mädchen.”

  About the Author

  Angela L. grew up in Burlingame, California. She is currently a high school student and will be graduating in 2016. As a child, her mother would drop her off at the local library instead of at the daycare center. While her mother went shopping, Angela would spend hours drowned in the pages of a story and now ten years later, she’s managed to create one of her very own.

  Also from Clean Reads

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