I left for Feldkirch in the early afternoon. The snow had let up a few hours earlier, but only the roads in town were partially cleared. Horse-drawn snowplows were hard at work on the road to Feldkirch. The tires were chained for the driver. Despite the protests, I insisted on going in to pick Fritzy up myself. However, my father ultimately won, and I had to accompany our chauffeur.
The Chauffer made excellent time, arriving early at the train station. This allowed me the good fortune to speak with Henry and the group they brought from Linz. Three men and a woman, they looked exhausted. Introductions were made, and the group expressed their gratitude repeatedly. Henry would be traveling with them to Paris then making a brief trip back to England before his return to us on the fifth, tentatively. Everyone exchanged goodbyes and well wishes, then Fritzy and I welcomed each other appropriately.
“Glad you ordered fresh snow for me, very thoughtful,” he laughed.
“Nothing I would not do for my brother,” I said, slapping him on the back.
He gave me the assessment look, and then his eyes softened. “Here, carry some of my luggage,” and he handed me a suitcase. I damn near dropped it. It was the radio. Fritzy laughed, “Guess I should have warned you.”
We settled into the automobile for what would be a longer-than-usual trip home due to the weather. The chauffeur, by instinct, tuned in the radio after closing the partition to give us privacy. “Schnapps?” I offered.
Fritzy laughed again, “It would seem prudent.” He accepted the glass, we toasted, and then sat back, relaxing. “Vienna is complicated. The whole thing is a mess. I would like to wait until tomorrow to get into it if you do not mind. Besides, I want to hear how it went in Paris.”
“After I tell you about something that happened there,” I said, bringing the little dream journal out of my pocket. Judging by the look on Fritzy’s face, he recognized what I held.
I explained the thoughts before the dream. I relayed the dream's details to him and the events upon waking. Fritzy looked slightly shell-shocked.
“Did the doctor mention your heart rate during this time?” he asked.
“No, but I have his name if you want to speak with him. There is more: I spoke with Mother just this morning. She not only confessed her misgivings for my brother Otto, it turns out that Joseph the chauffeur did indeed exist.”
“I have one clear memory of Otto, Sandy. Much like your experience with him, I remember him sticking his face in your face and then mine, saying ‘I hate you’ to each of us. The Otto you experienced sounds like I would expect him to have been as an adult.” Franz reached over and patted my shoulder. “It is good to be home, Sandy. We will figure this out.”
“I’m glad you came home,” I said. We both knew what the other meant. Maybe some guy existed somewhere that called himself my brother. For me, though, my only brother sat on the seat across from me, pouring us another schnapps.
“Now tell me about Paris!” He laughed, but his eyes betrayed him. His mind worked on what had transpired even as he spoke.
I revealed the details of our trip to Paris for the rest of the drive making a special effort on the story of Laurent and Reneé, including the fact Laurent would even now be in Innsbruck, trying to win Reneé over.
“Fascinating. I suppose they could pull it off if they were smart about it. There can be no doubt Reneé has a heart. He must love her very much to take the risk. I am not certain Reneé will allow it, though. When will you know?” he asked.
“Eva may already know. The arrival home has been hard on her.” I said, thinking of the dramas of the previous night.
“Why, what haven’t you told me?” Fritzy looked hard at me.
“I don’t know where to begin but let me try before we arrive at the house.” I gave the shortest version possible without leaving anything important out, closing with the count's anticipated arrival being any day.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Vienna may have been the simpler conversation.” He swallowed the remaining liquid in his glass, shaking his head. “Then she knows the count is on the way? Is she all right with this?”
“I do not know. She and Father have been together the entire day. It seemed rude to pull her away simply to satisfy my curiosity. I thought she would slip away to me after last night, but she has not.” I shrugged.
Then Franz made a point that had not occurred to me. “She may be too embarrassed, Sandy. She is a strong woman who has been through a lot. Perhaps she is worried her regular breakdowns will drive you away?”
“You may be correct. She gives no allowance for all the adjustments to switch to a completely different existence. A completely new person, her true self in a life she dared not even dream of.” I thought for a moment.
“Indeed, Sandy, just her self-worth alone. As you said, in Paris, she would not accept the expenditures you were making because she still thinks of herself as a whore.” Fritzy tapped his glass, thinking.
“I wonder if she even realizes it has only been six weeks. Barely the time for a short holiday abroad. The oceans of the world cannot be navigated in six weeks. A soul is so much deeper, so much more complex. Perhaps that is the real conversation we should be having.” We were coming into town as I finished my thought.
“Let me speak with her, Sandy,” Fritzy said.
“I think that is an excellent idea, Dr. Franz.” I laughed, but I meant it too, and he knew it. There was a myriad of reasons I thought he could do more to help her than I or at least hear what he had to say.
Everyone awaited Franz in the vestibule. I took the suitcase with the radio upstairs myself, against the protests of the staff. Then, I returned to find them all in the sitting room. Barely fifteen minutes had passed before Mother chased us both out to dress for supper.
Franz’s celebratory supper was a resounding success. We adjourned to the study, the ladies choosing to join us. Then, the night took a turn when Father made a misstep with a simple question.
“Tell us, Franz, how is Vienna? We miss the opportunity to attend the opera and symphony performances,” Father inquired.
“Dreadful, Uncle, Vienna is a shadow of the city it once was. The Nazis have added open intimidation to their propaganda and political maneuvering campaign. Nowhere and no one is safe. Even simple misunderstandings become accusations of trying to undermine the Reich. Open opposition often results in the disappearance of the individual or group responsible. The authorities are infiltrated to a level prohibiting investigation into these violations. Known supporters openly vilify the Christian Socialist Party, Fatherland Front, monarchists, or sovereignty beliefs. The members are intimidated, harassed, and often disappear. They portray us as oppressors trying to prevent the nation from forming a democratic union, planning and plotting against the nation's coming savior, Adolf Hitler.” Franz’s voice rose in fervor and tone as he spoke, his face turning red, disgust in his very breath. Realizing the moment had taken him, he abruptly stopped. “I apologize, everyone, for my outburst. The situation is maddening, and it saddens me greatly to watch our beloved Austria further victimized while the world stands by and watches it happen.”
“Apologies are not necessary, son. We all feel the loss. We are glad you are home safe, away from the tyranny consuming our beloved country.” Father said, coming around to pat Franz on the back gently.
As he began pacing, I knew he was continuing his diatribe in his mind.
“Your parents will be coming home in a few days, Franz. They were so happy to hear you had returned,” Mother said.
He stopped pacing, “Thank you, Auntie, it will be good to see them.” He looked me in the eye, and I saw the determination again for the first time since we had left Vienna together. Franz wanted to do anything within his power to help his country. Not for me, but for her, for Austria. Perhaps my stepping away allowed him to refocus. I could undoubtedly redirect my efforts to other areas. Leaving for Paris allowed me to see how much assistance would need to come from outside the country. Equally important was the availability of a place to find shelter, basic necessities, work, and contacts.
Franz kept the conversation much lighter for the remainder of the evening. Everyone excused themselves to retire early. I escorted Evangeline to her sitting room. She asked me in for a few minutes.
“Please take a seat,” she said, sitting opposite me. “Alexsander, I would like to apologize for my behavior. I assure you this is not how I typically behave. Nor am I prone to emotional outbursts. You have been so loving, gracious, and tolerant of me since you have been home.”
I adjusted to the edge of my seat to reach her. Gently, I took her hand, “My darling, please be kind and gentle with yourself. So much has changed for you in the last few months. The last twenty-eight years of your life have been less than ideal. Show yourself some grace, please. None of us would be doing any better were we in your shoes, my love. I rather think we wouldn’t have made it all.” I kissed her fingers tenderly. “I love you in a way words cannot express, Evangeline. Please know how excited I am to have forever with you. If the priest would allow it, I would marry you this minute.”
I stood, pulling her into my embrace. She whispered, “Your father confided he would be happy to motivate the priest if I would only agree,” she held me tight, nuzzling her head into me. “Thank you, my love, thank you for your kindness, for all you did for me last night.”
I squeezed her to me and pulled her back to look into her eyes. “We are a team, a partnership. When you struggle, I am there. If I struggle, you are there. Please exercise the same patience with yourself you have shown me, my love.”
“Oh, Alexsander, I love you so very much.” Her lips were sweet, but I kept the current circumstances in mind to control myself. The last thing she needed was more guilt.
“Now I will excuse myself, my darling. I want you to get plenty of rest. Take a hot bath and have some tea. I will see you in the morning.” I kissed her forehead, she smiled and said goodnight, and I left before I could not control myself any longer.
I thought about going to Fritzy’s room, but he needed to rest. It would be better to pick things up in the morning. Frieda had turned the bed down and laid out a new pair of silk bed clothes I had not seen before. Perhaps Evangeline had purchased them for me. I cleaned up and changed into them. Then, I took the book from the sitting room and headed for the bed. I stopped by the window, it was snowing again. I lay in bed staring at the book's pages, remembering nothing. I could not get comfortable, and my mind would not relax. I simply could not sleep with clothing on. I got out of bed, stripped, and climbed back in. Half an hour later, my book was discarded, and I drifted into a deep sleep.
The lady waited at the edge of the woods. I looked around, trying to get my bearings. The surroundings were unfamiliar, but I knew this was a dream. We were high in the mountains. She raised her hand, beckoning me toward her. I thought about going to her, and I found myself standing beside her instantly. The feeling was disorienting, “Excellent, Alexsander,” she said, walking on. I wondered why we should walk when we could immediately be somewhere. She laughed, “Energy, my dear, everything requires energy. It is all an exchange. Relative to the distance you move and your ability to bend the location to you.”
I felt what she meant more than I understood what she meant. With the feeling came the knowledge that a move like that was beyond my skill set. We walked in silence for quite a long time. Coming around a bend in the trail, we were suddenly high in the Alps. We were facing each other, and then her lips moved. Her words were muffled. I asked her to repeat what she had said. I tried hard to concentrate on the formation of words on her lips. Suddenly, I was lying in the same meadow as when the dream had begun. Something had gone wrong. I struggled to rise, but the ground held me fast like a giant magnet holding an iron. As I worked through the puzzle of how to get back to her, I saw Fritzy. He reached down and grabbed me, pulling me off the ground with incredible effort. His face masked in shadow, I reached out, focusing on more light hitting his face. The face was Gerhard Schmidt. Scheisse!
Opening my eyes, I lay still. The world felt like early morning. After a moment, I pulled the covers back and got up. The clock read 4:00. Going to the window, I looked out. The stars shone brightly, a beautiful midnight blue sky. There being no point in returning to bed, I dressed casually and headed to the kitchen. Quite likely, someone would be up. If only I could have read her lips. She was trying to tell me something vital. I could feel it. I would make a point of detailing the dream in the journal upon returning to my room.