Shuttered Life

by Florentine Roth

  “Yes, I believe that people can change.”

  “Then you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

  I would have liked to slap Lukas in the face, but he just walked away, leaving me standing alone in the foyer. I was touched that Lukas was worried about me, but I thought he was taking it all a bit too far. I walked outside and stood there indecisively for a moment. I no longer felt like taking pictures.

  I walked a little ways from the house and turned around to admire its towering form. The old walls were covered in ivy, its wild tendrils a stark contrast to the classical architecture.

  Then I saw something that confused me. Uncle Justus was standing on the balcony that belonged to Uncle Matthias’s office. I knew Uncle Matthias was at a follow-up appointment at the hospital.

  I headed back into the house and up the stairs. Hopefully, Uncle Justus was still in the office. This time I would confront him and get him back for his overblown reaction to my mother’s dress.

  But when I arrived upstairs, the office was empty. I looked around, disappointed. I walked over to one of the bookshelves and ran my fingers over the spines of the books.

  “May I ask what you are looking for here?” Uncle Justus stood in the doorway, blocking my escape.

  Damn it! The tables had turned. I felt my face turn crimson. Because I hadn’t come up with an excuse beforehand, I just stammered: “I thought that Uncle Matthias would be here.”

  Uncle Justus smiled at me scornfully.

  “Not likely.” He made an excessively gallant bow and gestured to the door.

  “After you.”

  Unable to come up with a snappy retort, I left the room. I hated the way he always took the wind out of my sails.

  I slipped on my mother’s favorite old dress for dinner just to provoke Uncle Justus. I wouldn’t be scared away by him so easily. But was Uncle Justus really behind all the mysterious incidents? I didn’t really think so. He was too . . . Words escaped me. Narcissistic? Arrogant? Uncle Justus wouldn’t send me endless secret messages—he would just say right to my face that he wanted me to leave.

  I smoothed the last wrinkle out of the dress and made my way to the dining room.

  My feet were light as a feather as I descended the stairs. My mood lifted with every step. I would survive this crisis. Nobody would make a farce out of my life.

  The old grandfather clock in the foyer struck six o’clock. Approaching footsteps mixed with the dark chiming, and a figure came into view. I stopped, rooted to the spot. My eyes seemed to be playing tricks on me.

  Hannah!

  I recognized the light-blue dress that she liked to wear so much. But it couldn’t be her. Or could it? What was she doing here? I shut my eyes and forced myself to take a few deep breaths. The chiming of the clock calmed me, set the rhythm of my pulse.

  I cautiously opened my eyes again and saw Elisa opening the dining room door. Why was she wearing that dress? I thought I’d burned everything that reminded me of Hannah. Trembling, I waited a few more seconds. Then I followed Elisa.

  I sat restlessly in my chair, my thoughts circling endlessly around David. Why had he vanished like that? Why hadn’t he gotten in touch all day? What would things be like between us now? I flinched every time the door opened. But it was always just another member of my family coming in. Soon, everyone was seated at the table. Everyone, that is, except David. I heard snippets of conversation, but I couldn’t concentrate on what was being said. I didn’t notice the lush bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table, aglow with every color of the rainbow. I didn’t smell the fragrant aromas of the dishes that were carried in. I didn’t feel hungry, despite my rumbling stomach. I didn’t feel anything.

  Finally, David entered the dining room. He hadn’t changed yet and wore a dark-blue suit with a snow-white shirt. He loosened his tie and sat down across from me.

  My heart beat faster. The smile that he gave me made me blush. Embarrassed, I dropped my gaze. I didn’t know how to behave. I couldn’t prevent the corners of my mouth from lifting into an enraptured smile.

  Shimmering sensations from the night before swirled in my head: convulsing muscles and quivering fingers, heat from sweaty skin and David’s hoarse voice repeatedly whispering my name.

  Just then, Valerie slipped in and sat down next to David. I froze. It couldn’t be! What was she doing here? I was under the impression that they’d finally broken it off once and for all. Had the night before been nothing more than a fling on the side for him? I couldn’t bear the thought.

  I couldn’t stop staring at her. Was it really Hannah? Why was she here? And how could she be sitting here looking so sanctimonious? I grasped the knife in my hand so tightly that it dug painfully into my fingers. But the pain helped me concentrate. I must continue to behave inconspicuously and thoroughly plan my next steps. But I still wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. The blame couldn’t fall on me—otherwise everything would come out.

  I forced myself to take a deep breath. I would somehow get through this dinner. Then I’d pack my suitcase. I’d had enough. As I fixed my gaze on David sitting pensively beside Valerie, I could feel the corrosive acid in my stomach rising. I thought I was going to be sick.

  Valerie tapped on her wineglass with a fork and looked around.

  “Could I please have your attention for a moment?”

  Everyone looked at her, and the atmosphere suddenly grew tense.

  She pulled her hair back. “Since we’re all gathered here together, this seems like a good time to share that you’ll no longer be seeing me here. You’ve all made it quite clear that I’m no longer welcome”—Aunt Helen tried to interrupt her, but Valerie gave her a withering look and continued on—“I stood by you during this difficult time, believing that you would mediate between David and me . . .”

  David’s irritated sigh was a balm for my soul.

  “Valerie,” David said. “Stop trying to stir up sympathy. I broke up with you months ago and have only tolerated you since then for my dad’s sake. I didn’t want to be responsible for any additional turmoil.”

  “But, David, you and Valerie . . .”

  “Mom, for the last time, I decide who I’m with, not you.”

  Valerie promptly broke into hysterical tears. “I don’t want to be responsible for your fighting,” she said.

  “Oh, that’s new,” David said cynically. “You normally seem to have nothing against doing whatever it takes to get attention.”

  Valerie jumped up and screamed, “You idiot, you never deserved me! I never want to see you again!”

  At first, a wave of relief passed through me at the sound of Valerie’s words. But as I looked at her face, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. She had a devious expression in her eyes. She acted as if she were an abandoned woman.

  Though I was happy that David had kept his promise—albeit delivered during this odd farewell speech at the table—I still needed some time to think. A quieter place to mull everything over. The perfect spot came to mind. I let Uncle Matthias know that I was heading to the cemetery and hurried up to my room to grab my jacket.

  As I slipped on my jean jacket, I found a card on the wardrobe and yelled.

  Danger is imminent.

  I crumpled up the card and forced myself to focus on something else. Where was my Roman coin? I found it on the bureau, stuck it in the breast pocket of my jacket, and closed it. Now I was prepared for any eventuality. I headed downstairs, took David’s car key from the key rack in the foyer, and vanished out the front door.

  I grabbed the key to the SUV and crept out of the house. I let her have a small head start, then I got in the car and sat there for a moment, suddenly full of doubt. Should I really follow her? What would happen then? I had noticed how I had been losing control more and more—changing into someone I hardly recognized when I did.

  But I had to
find out whether it was really her—or had my fantasy played a trick on me? It couldn’t be any other way. I had to make sure. She’d already caused me so much grief; she could not leave unscathed.

  I took a deep breath and started the car.

  The sun was setting when I reached the cemetery. I pushed the slightly rusty gate open and walked over the raked path to the spot that was tainted with my most painful memory. No one else seemed to be here. The pervasive silence was only occasionally interrupted by chirping birds and the rustle of the wind through the trees. The last sunbeams bathed the graves in light. I felt as though I’d landed in a place forgotten by time.

  I noticed that I was holding my breath and I forced myself to inhale. In order to distract myself, I read the inscriptions on the graves that I passed. Headstone by headstone, I got closer to my father’s final resting place. Though my heartbeat accelerated, my steps were hesitant.

  Why was I doing this to myself? Hadn’t the past few days been disturbing enough? But I knew the answer: I wouldn’t know true closure until I had faced my father’s grave.

  My heart skipped a beat when I recognized the white marble angel that watched over my father’s grave. Most of my relatives found it tasteless and excessive, but I considered it soothing and comforting. With powerful, gentle, outstretched wings, it shielded the grave from the rest of the cemetery.

  My legs trembled as I kneeled at the well-tended grave. Tears ran down my face as I stroked the white oxeye daisies—my father’s favorite flower—that covered the stone slab, a cheerful contrast to the gray gravestones all around.

  I couldn’t decipher the inscription through my tears, but it didn’t matter. I had seen it so often in my mind’s eye. Even in sleep, it haunted me.

  I walked slowly toward the cemetery, following the light-blue dress that flashed between the graves. But I wasn’t in a hurry. I knew where she was going. I knew her painful destination.

  A liberating feeling of calm came over me as I walked among the dead. They rejected my doubts and questions.

  Now I just had to be sure it was her.

  I stepped closer, but Hannah didn’t notice me as she sat crying by her husband’s grave.

  Despite my hatred for Hannah, I was conflicted at the sight of her. Sympathy mixed with my torrid rage.

  My tears eventually dried up. Trembling, I took a breath and noticed that my heart no longer hurt as badly. Confused, I looked around. How long had I been sitting here? I had lost all sense of time.

  The last sunbeams cast long shadows over the rows of graves. The birds had turned silent and an ominous stillness descended. I stood up, wiped the grass off my knees, and turned to leave. Shivering, I hunched my shoulders and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket. I began to breathe more easily as I approached the exit, and I realized that I’d waited much too long to visit my father’s grave. Free of this burden, I could now turn my attention to what was going on back at the Westphal house.

  I followed her to the exit. I frequently lifted my eyes toward the sky and took pleasure in the dark clouds that were rolling, gray and gloomy, in front of the setting sun, promising the long-awaited rain.

  A gust of wind swept over the cemetery, swirling the yellow foliage. The fallen leaves rustled in a mad frenzy, whispering to me. I listened, but I didn’t understand them. What were they trying to say to me?

  The first drops of rain fell as I unlocked the car. I dropped into the driver’s seat and shut the door. It began to rain in earnest only a moment later, the drops pattering down dully on the closed top and window shield.

  Though I could hardly see anything through the sudden torrent, I detected a shadowy form scurrying by not far ahead. Confused, I wondered if there had been other people at the cemetery, because I hadn’t noticed anyone. But I didn’t give it any more thought.

  I started the car. As I buckled the seat belt, I touched the pocket of my jacket where I kept the old Roman coin. I smiled at the thought of the bittersweet moment when David had returned it to me.

  Soaked by the rain, I sat in the driver’s seat of the SUV and tried to collect myself. The icy cold that crept relentlessly through my dress gave me a brief moment of clarity. Had that really been Hannah in the cemetery? How could that be?

  But the rapid-fire drumming of the raindrops engulfed me, pushing me back into the maelstrom of despair that I hadn’t been able to escape for days.

  I would end this now, once and for all.

  Otherwise, my thoughts would devour me until nothing was left of the old me.

  Strangely emancipated, I pulled the car out of the cemetery parking lot and turned the radio on. But I changed the station several times because none of the songs fit my currently troubled mood. Annoyed, I turned off the radio and concentrated on the slippery road in front of me.

  I followed the black convertible from a distance. The fact that she was driving David’s car mocked me and brought me to my senses. The dim red of the taillights dug into my retinas and reminded me of the night before. Of the desperation that crushed me as I observed David pulling her into the guest room—and not leaving until morning.

  After a few minutes, I reached the country road. The sun had finally set, and the surrounding fields were engulfed in darkness. I switched on the high beams and pushed resolutely on the gas pedal, eager to get back to the house. I didn’t mind a fierce storm, but I would rather enjoy it in front of the warm fireplace at my uncle’s house than in a rickety antique car. What are you supposed to do if lightning strikes when you’re driving a convertible with a cloth top? I flinched as the first clap of thunder rang in my ears.

  I started to tailgate. I couldn’t stop myself. My hands tightly clutched the steering wheel, my white knuckles protruding visibly.

  Hannah could not return to the house. When she was there, she took away the people I had given my heart to and put them under her spell.

  I shut my eyes for a moment and stepped energetically on the gas pedal.

  The heavy car surged forward.

  When I opened my eyes, I saw that the small sports car was swerving. Adrenaline surged through my body, eclipsing everything.

  Smiling, I gave her a little distance and drove through the tight curve.

  We left the last field behind us and began heading through the forest. The road through here was lined with tall, thick oak trees whose branches arched over the middle of the road. The branches danced ominously before my eyes and swirled furiously in the headlights.

  I clenched my teeth and gripped the steering wheel harder. As the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky, memories of the night before were illuminated in my mind’s eye. As I had listened at the door of the guest room—my ear pressed to the wood—I had imagined them ripping the clothes off each other’s bodies. Every repressed moan and faint squeak from the old bed had fueled my anger; I had to bite my tongue in order to not scream out. Only when I detected the metallic taste of blood on my tongue did I step away from the door.

  The gas pedal sank down inch by inch.

  The impact was stronger this time—causing me to let out a yelp. I watched, captivated, as the old Alfa broke through the crash guard and shot down the hillside.

  I screamed.

  I tried frantically to hold tight to the steering wheel as the car flew down the embankment. I shut my eyes and prayed that I wouldn’t flip over.

  The impact knocked the wind out of me, and my teeth slammed painfully together. After landing on all four tires, the Alfa sped uncontrollably into the woods.

  I stopped.

  Reflected.

  The monotonous whir of the windshield wipers was a balm for my soul. They moved back and forth, relentlessly expelling the water that ran down the windshield. It almost succeeded in soothing me.

  But I couldn’t keep driving; I had to get out and make sure. I had to know whether it was really Hannah in that car.<
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  I opened the glove compartment and took out the flashlight that was kept there for emergencies.

  I opened the door and got out. The rain embraced me, penetrating my damp clothes. I ran over to the broken guardrail. The white splinters of plastic strewn on the asphalt and grass that shone in the flashlight’s beam revealed how forcefully the car must have hit the barrier. I ran my fingers over the ragged edge of the guardrail, feasting on its sharp edges.

  My heart raced.

  I shone the flashlight down the hill and tried to find the car. But the darkness and the heavy rain made it impossible.

  I went down the hill, following the tracks that the tires had made in the wet embankment. They had dug deep into the soft soil and ripped up entire chunks of grass.

  As I followed the trail of devastation, I noticed goose bumps spreading across my body.

  The rain streamed over my face and ran into my eyes. I nonetheless managed to track down the convertible, which had come to a standstill in the middle of a giant bush.

  I unclipped my seat belt and tried to orientate myself. The right headlight still shone, lighting up the undergrowth that I had landed in.

  My head pounded hellishly. I must have slammed it into the steering wheel. Why had I gotten into an antique car without air bags? I touched my forehead tentatively; my finger felt something slick.

  I got sick. I didn’t have a problem with anyone else’s blood, just the sight of my own. I forced myself to take deep breaths. It was a miracle that the car hadn’t crash into a tree, but instead landed in a giant bush. Realizing how lucky I was, I decided not to let a few drops of blood faze me.

  The pattering of the rain grew heavier. Suddenly, I noticed the glow from a flashlight dancing through the dark trees.

  I approached the car slowly.

  Branches snapped under my feet and the glow from the flashlight bathed the woods in a ghostly light. The wildly flickering shadows were frightening. But the real source of my fear lay only a few feet ahead.