Sea Air

by Meeringa, Jule

  “Six weeks. They were weeks that changed their lives.”

  “You both became sailors then.” I could see it in my mind’s eye: Mathis and Uwe all grown up, dressed in fancy uniforms, pipes in the corners of their mouths as they stood at the helm of the Gorch Fock. In my imagination, Mathis picked up his binoculars and . . .

  “Sailors? No, neither of us became sailors.”

  What? The image disappeared before my eyes, my fantasy about Mathis and Uwe ruined.

  “But why? I mean . . .” I felt suddenly teary. Since the day we’d met—was it only the day before?—I had cultivated the idea of Mathis being a sailor. Hearing the opposite felt like a real loss.

  “Life pulled us in another direction.”

  “But what happened? I thought Mathis and Uwe heard the call of the sea.”

  “Of course they did. They even pictured themselves staying there forever.”

  “So what happened? Oh, I’ll bet I know! It had to be—”

  Mathis laughed. “Hold on. I’d better tell you before you make up something crazy.”

  “Fine, but I want to know every single detail.”

  “If you say so.”

  “But first, Mathis . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you mind if I rest my head on your legs?” I could tell he didn’t know what to say. I could feel my heart beating against my ribs. Without a word, Mathis tapped one thigh and helped me lie down on the bench. I rested my head on his legs like a pillow and drew up my knees. Slowly my heart calmed down as I snuggled up and listened to his voice.

  The next morning, it took Mathis a moment to remember where he was. Once he did, he leaped out of bed and ran to the window. Yes, the lighthouse was there! And the ocean . . . Mathis froze. The sea was gone! How was that possible? Then he remembered what his father had told him. At the North Sea coast, the water ebbed and flowed. The water disappeared and then reappeared. Mathis remembered that it had something to do with the moon. Relieved, he settled his elbows on the table and looked out some more.

  “Can I look, too, please?” Uwe was awake now, too, and trying hard to push his thin legs toward the edge of the bed. Mathis ran over, pulled a chair up to the bed, and lifted Uwe by his armpits. It took all of Mathis’s strength, but he finally managed to put his brother into the chair. He then slid the chair forward to the table. Uwe leaned on his arms and looked out.

  “Where’s the sea?” Uwe became quite pale at the unexpected view.

  “It’s low tide. Remember, Father explained it to us.” Mathis put his hands on his hips. “Did you forget already?”

  Uwe looked confused for a moment, then started laughing. “Of course,” he said happily. “Ebb and floom!”

  “Flow.”

  “Ebb and flow. High tide and low tide. When will the water come back?”

  “It’s already on the way. It’ll be here at ten.” Harm Voss had appeared behind the boy. He patted Uwe’s arm. “Getting across the room every time you want to look at the sea will wear you out. We’ll need to change things up a bit, wee lad.” He moved Uwe to Mathis’s bed and pushed the table and chairs aside. With a few powerful shoves, he pushed Uwe’s bed under the window. “That’s a wee bit better!”

  The boys clapped. “Can I please sit there now?” Uwe pointed to his bed.

  “Later, laddie. It’s time for breakfast now. Eat as much eggs and bacon as you can, and soon you’ll be running with us on the beach.”

  “Really?” asked Uwe quietly.

  “Scout’s honor.”

  That morning, Uwe ate more food than he’d ever eaten in a single meal. The others could hardly believe how much he could pack away!

  “We will be going for a hike today,” the woman from the train station announced later, after lunch. The children knew now that her name was Miss Sturm and she was in charge of everything at the children’s home—except for Harm Voss, of course. “You may run along the beach and collect seashells. The Hagena boys will stay here. We’ll be back for dinner.”

  Mathis couldn’t believe it. Everybody else was going to collect seashells, and he had to stay behind? They’d spent the morning doing arts and crafts, when all he really wanted to do was to walk on the beach and watch the sea return. This wasn’t right! He moped all the way back to his room, took out Anna’s atlas, and sat on his bed with it. Uwe had been taken to the doctor and would be back soon. Then they could look at the atlas together. Mathis wiped his eyes. He didn’t want to cry now. He had promised his mother he’d be brave. But why did his brother have to be sick? Why couldn’t they play on the beach like everyone else? He heard the cheerful voices of children coming from outside, then things suddenly became very quiet. He heard someone singing “Das Wandern ist der Müller’s Lust,” and then the song faded into the distance. Now he really couldn’t help but cry. He threw himself onto the bed and sobbed.

  Suddenly, he felt a hand patting his head. He looked up, but before he even saw whose hand it was, he saw a sand shovel and a small tin bucket. It had to be a mistake. Unless . . . Mathis realized it was Harm Voss who stood in front of him, and he was holding out the beach toys.

  “Are those . . . for me?” Mathis hardly dared ask.

  “Who else? Unless you don’t like to play in the sand . . .”

  Mathis jumped out of bed and grabbed Harm’s hand.

  “Uwe’s already there. He’s going to build a sand castle and I figured you might want to help. Hey, stop squeezing my hand so hard. You’re stronger than you look!”

  Mathis laughed. Of course he was strong, even stronger than Harm knew.

  Mathis and Uwe stayed on the beach until dinner and built a huge castle. They watched with fascination as the sea withdrew from the beach bit by bit, leaving dark, muddy soil in its wake. Father had called this ground the foreshore. Mathis saw some people sink up to their calves when they walked on it. He decided to give it a try. Slowly he felt his way forward. The ground was so warm! With each step, mud squished between his toes. It felt wonderfully soft and silky. Harm had told him a person could walk all the way to the island at low tide. Mathis raised his hand against the afternoon sun and looked toward Neuwerk for a long time. He wished he could run right over and explore it!

  “Come on, Mathis. It’s time to go back. Dinner will be waiting.” Harm’s voice tore him from his thoughts and back to the beach. “Look what you boys built! Why, I think that’s the best castle I ever saw.”

  “We did it all by ourselves!” Uwe beamed with pride. “Can we come back tomorrow?”

  “I think so, unless Miss Sturm has something else planned for you lads. But when I tell her what a great castle you’ve built, she’ll likely see it our way. Good builders are in demand these days.”

  Mathis’s face darkened. “At home, everything is wrecked. Father says the bombs did it. People really do need builders back home. Momma thinks everything will be fixed up again, but I don’t. It’s all destroyed. I don’t think it can ever get fixed.”

  Harm patted Mathis on the shoulder. “I’m sure your mother is right. Everything will probably look much nicer when you go back.”

  “I’m not going back! I’m staying here forever and I’m going to be a sailor! I’m never going back to that horrible place, not ever!” Mathis’s eyes flashed with wild determination and he clenched his hands into fists.

  “What have we done to you young’uns, and how can we ever make it right again?” Harm said softly. His usually cheerful voice sounded infinitely sad.

  They walked back to the children’s home in silence.

  “Mathis, will you really stay here and never go home?”

  The boys sat on Uwe’s bed, Anna’s atlas open in front of them.

  “No, Uwe, never again. Look how beautiful it is here and how quiet. And think of all the good food they give us.” Mathis shuddered at the memory of the free but inevitably b
urnt school meals the Americans cooked for them, and of the makeshift buildings that served as the children’s school. “Anyway, there’s no sea at home. How can I be a sailor there? No, Uwe, I’m not going back. Wouldn’t you rather stay here, too?”

  “Sure . . . but what about Momma? Wouldn’t she be sad if we didn’t come home?”

  “Momma?” Mathis suddenly felt unsure. He hadn’t thought of that. Of course he wanted to be with his momma. Now what? He suddenly had a thought.

  “Momma can come here, too. And Father, Anna, and Jürgen. We’ll all live together and I’ll be a sailor.” His eyes sparkled again. This was a great idea, and he and Uwe would never have to go back to that awful, ruined city.

  Uwe clapped his hands in excitement. “Oh, good, Mathis! Let’s do that!” Suddenly he became thoughtful again. He rubbed his nose. “But, Mathis, what would Father do for work?”

  Mathis was not sure whether a person could work as a finance official at the sea. He didn’t even know what a finance official did. What other kind of work could a person do at the sea? “I know! Father could be the lighthouse keeper! And we’d all live in the lighthouse!”

  “Yay, a lighthouse keeper!” Uwe’s cheeks glowed with excitement. “Tomorrow you can write and tell Father and Momma. It’s a good thing you learned how to write a little!”

  That night the boys fell asleep feeling perfectly satisfied with their plan.

  The weeks at the children’s home flew by, and Mathis no longer felt afraid that he’d miss out on all the fun. He knew that Harm Voss was watching out for him. It didn’t even bother him that he and Uwe couldn’t hike with the other kids. He enjoyed spending those hours with Uwe on the beach, where they built sand castles and told each other stories about sailors and the sea. In the evenings, they often opened up the atlas and traced designated shipping routes with their fingers. Together they dreamed of sailing the Seven Seas and conquering foreign continents. Uwe’s strength grew each day. After three weeks, he started walking with the help of crutches. Slowly, he started to believe that one day he would be able to walk freely again. The boys hardly thought about home, and when they did talk about their family, it was to speculate about what it would be like when they all lived together happily in the lighthouse. The bombed-out home belonged to the past. One thing was perfectly clear to Mathis and Uwe: they would never go back.

  Then one day, a letter came from Momma. The boys tore it open. When would the others come to the North Sea and move with them into the lighthouse? Their eyes traced over Momma’s sweeping handwriting:

  Dearest Mathis and Uwe,

  We are so happy that you both like the sea so much and that we don’t have to worry about you. Father has a lot of work to do, and I’m working to make the house a little nicer. You will feel right at home when you get back. The construction is going well, and you won’t believe how fast things are improving. Keep being good and have a nice time. We send you both big hugs.

  Mother, Father, Anna, and Jürgen

  Stunned, Mathis put down the letter and stared straight ahead. He couldn’t believe it. Not one word about when their family would be coming to the sea. Hadn’t they understood his letter? Maybe they hadn’t gotten it. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Mathis and Uwe stood up from the breakfast table and slipped back to their room. They didn’t even want to go when Harm offered to take them to the beach.

  “What’s gotten into you two? The sun is in the sky and you’d rather sit in a dark old room?”

  Wordlessly, Mathis handed Harm the letter.

  “You’re feeling a little homesick, is that it?” Harm handed the letter back without reading it. “Your Momma really misses you, I’ll bet.”

  “No! I mean, of course she misses us. But it’s not that. Uwe and I don’t want to go back. We want to stay here now. Father could be the lighthouse keeper. Why doesn’t he want to do that? We could all be together . . .” Mathis covered his face in his hands as the tears came.

  “You know what really helps me when I’m sad?”

  The boys looked at Harm as he pulled a harmonica out of his pocket and began to play a happy sailor song.

  He stopped. “Do you want to try?”

  “Can we really?” Uwe forgot his sadness for the moment.

  Mathis stared at the shiny instrument. Harm put the harmonica in his hand and Mathis touched it carefully with one finger, as if it were a fragile treasure. After an encouraging nod from Harm, he pressed it slowly to his lips and blew into it, gently at first and then a little stronger.

  Uwe covered his ears. “Let me! I can do it better!” He grabbed the harmonica out of Mathis’s hands and blew into it himself.

  “Well, that isn’t the prettiest sound I’ve heard come out of a harmonica, but it might be the loudest.” Harm laughed. “Bring it to the beach and I’ll show you how to play it properly.”

  He didn’t have to ask twice. The boys’ sadness was forgotten. If they were going to be real sailors, they had to learn to play the harmonica!

  Harm was a good and patient teacher. By that evening, Mathis and Uwe could each play a short melody. Proudly, they sauntered back to the children’s home. Harm had promised them that he would teach them a little bit more every day, and by the time the day of departure arrived, each of them could—with just a few off notes here and there—play “Wir lagen vor Madagaskar.”

  The end of the holiday was inevitable, and the time came for the children to return home. The farewell to the North Sea, and especially to their friend Harm Voss, was so difficult that even Harm’s kind words could not comfort them and they couldn’t keep themselves from crying. At the train platform, they clung so tightly to Harm that he had no choice but to push them gently into their compartment.

  “Come back and visit now, you two. I’ll want to see if you really practiced the harmonica.”

  Mathis sobbed loudly. “But we don’t even have a harmonica!”

  “You do now.” Harm held up his own instrument. “This one.”

  As the train pulled out of the station, Mathis clutched the harmonica so tightly his knuckles turned white. Harm stood on the platform and waved, and they watched him until the train took the first curve. Then he was gone.

  Mathis had never felt so lost. He hunched down in his seat and didn’t speak during the whole journey home. I will come back and become a sailor, he vowed over and over again as the train took him away from the place he’d come to love. And indeed, the love he and Uwe had discovered for the North Sea would never leave them.

  Oh my God, it had happened again. I looked in dismay at the novel in my hands, then dropped it on the floor. I had read yet another chapter without registering a word. I knew what my problem was: I was alone after spending five beautiful days with Mathis, taking long bike rides and endless walks on the beach, exploring local restaurants. We had talked not just about ourselves, but also about larger things like God and the world. I still knew little about Mathis’s present life. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

  Even the most boring shows on TV had failed to put me to sleep the night before. It already felt like this would be the longest day of my life. Today I wouldn’t see Mathis. He said last night that he had to take care of his boat today. Even worse, we’d made no further plans, and I didn’t even know if I would see him again. He said nothing about it and I was too afraid to ask. I was calling myself every name in the book now as punishment for my cowardice, but what was the point? I had no idea where to find his boat, I didn’t even know where he was staying, and I sure didn’t know where he’d be going after his vacation was over. We had tiptoed around this question for days, as it had nothing to do with us now. The thought that he had a wife and children at home made me feel truly ill, so I’d done everything possible to ignore reality and pretend our time together would last forever.

  I gave up my whole morning to daydreaming, and of course, all my dreams
centered on the nonsailor, Mathis. Every effort I made to distract myself failed. I might as well admit it: I was in love, as I’d been countless times before.

  But this time felt different because Mathis himself was different. When I was with him, even a conversation about the weather couldn’t be boring. For days I’d felt a repeated quickening of my heart and butterflies in my stomach.

  Yes, I was in love. There was no going back. So, now what? My life was complicated enough. I didn’t need to be in love with a married man. And that wasn’t the only problem. I figured he was more than twenty years my senior. Maybe that was part of what drew me: his experience with life, his maturity, and most of all the sense of peace he showed and that I felt when I was with him. I’d never felt as though I was on the same wavelength as a guy before. Mathis was the one person who’d ever made me feel this way. He could be the love of my life . . . if he wasn’t already married to someone else and with kids to boot. A love story without a future was par for the course in my life. I should have listened to my conscience and not my heart. Crap. I wished someone could tell me what to do.

  Sandra! She’d know what I should do. Maybe. But what if she gave me bad advice? Reluctantly, I grabbed my phone. It was time to check in with Paula, anyway. While I was talking to her, I could keep pondering whether I wanted to open up to Sandra about what was going on with me.

  “Nele? I’m so glad you called! We’re sitting right on the Baltic Sea beach, having a picnic. I tell you, I could stay here and . . .”

  “Me, too!” I heard. “Is that Momma?” I heard the sound of the phone being handed off, then Paula’s voice again, more clearly this time.

  “Hi, Momma! It’s so cool here! Anneke says so, too. We’re having the best picnic on the beach. I want to live on the beach, then we can have picnics on it all the time. Have you had a picnic on the beach yet?”

  “Not exactly, but—”

  “I bet it’s really boring where you are.”

  “Oh, I do plenty of fun things, like . . .” I heard more rustling on the other end of the line. “Paula, are you there?”