Destined

Fear and anxiety was to be seen on all their young but not necessarily inexperienced faces. Silence, but not peace, ruled their now haunted chamber for it was hardly spoken and mostly murmured in that case. Time was running up, they had known it by day and hour when it would already since long, but that had not been much of help.
The 29 together, always wearing their gray robes with pockets full of charms, spells, little portions of all sorts of strong and instantly working potions and all what could bring magical bindings and powers to them, had already fought against, beaten up or even slayed numerous demons, vampires and other monsters; but this one was not going to be the same.
Foremost he was the most ancient of all who were still alive on the earth; he had experiences of ages and the power of all witches and wizards he had got the better of. His knowledge was tremendously vast in all sorts of magic. He knew all the magical sources of the earth, all accessible powers of other worlds and all counter spells. In his case, his age was to his advantage rather than a weakness.
The 29 were strolling around the chamber, filled up with various charms, spell books and potions, each practicing the ones they thought they had a better hold of in the last minutes there were left to raise their chance of defeating themselves, for victory was a too optimistical word for their young souls. Magic spells and various instructions were hastily being written all over the walls, furniture and on small pieces of paper, although it was obviously not going to be of any specific affect, for he could make them all vanish with a simple glance, but hope was the last they were giving up.
This day was seen to come for them; already with their birth, they had all been gifted with powers normal people did not possess. These powers had brought them together to this chamber, just like it had brought other young witches and wizards together. They had kept together ever since, already for 5 years. The gray robes were something which went with the chamber, mostly like a followed tradition of the community. They had all accepted their destiny, knowing that many monsters like the ancient Niusha monster had always been after young blooming talents and also that he had always had his eyes especially on the chamber community. They had also known that only a few ones could ever escape him.
Most of them had not wanted to give in and believe that it had been meant to be, until they had had to turn to the ancient book of most complicated spells of the worlds and to their indescribable despair they had discovered the name of the Niusha monster as one of the authors. “Just what is this old thing?” had cried out some in disbelief. But then they all knew that the ancient monster was not to be beaten up by what lived on earth.
Their only hope had been to find a way to call for the mystical powers passing by close enough to the earth to hear their calls and willing enough to face the ancient, well known Niusha.
No one dared to breathe as they heard him approach their chamber. There could be no mistakes about this for his steps had a unique echo in the stairway outside. To their fear they listened to his steps with exactly the same sound and time interval between each two. Stupefied and petrified each went to sit in their place, awaiting their common destination.
They all heard the door click in their disbelief, and in seconds, the old geometry teacher appeared in the door with the 29 exam papers and old but shiny leather shoes.

p.s. Mr Nuisha was the greatest Geometry teacher I have ever had. He was always respected, well loved and already 80 at the time of this story. This story has a real happy ending, for he just made us promise to have studied well enough on the papers he had handed out to us, sign them and give them to him. How he managed the notes? Well I guess he had some powers after all, for he never gave an unfair one to anyone.

homeless marguerites - Part 14

“My name is Johann Schwarzinger; born here in Dresden 24 years ago and I am the youngest of the three children of Manfred and Anna Schwarzinger.
At the age of 6 I started planting marguerites in our little garden, which was first more of a test, if it could ever work out and then, when the flowers finally bloomed, I could never help planting them again. I was also brought up religious, first it sounded more the kind of childish notion you have in reaction to the fairy tale assembling stories your parents tell you. After having left Germany though, it became something personal, it became somehow the only part of me I could have with o fear, the only part which I could not hide, which even Julien could not destroy.
My childhood was more or less normal, for my family did their best for me not to have to deal much with what was going on in Germany at the time. I could sometimes mention traces of sorrow, anxiety or fear in their faces, but then they would try to show it off as little unremarkable matters of daily life. They tried too much, to protect me by keeping me unaware and isolated, though in vain, for the new changes reached pretty soon the schools and at that point, it was impossible to stay isolated, you had to be aware. Since it was too dangerous for younger children to have double opinions of the events and to live a double life, they started filling me in with their version of the world when I reached 11.
That was not long before the war was declared, and my older brother and sister were already engaged in the events, so I had already witnessed their now pretty often discussions and fights with my parents.
My brother Stefan was 12 years older than me and my sister Ingrid 9 years, so that resulted in them not being much willing of having me in their affairs neither really trying to convince me of anything.
It came out that Ingrid had been really fascinated with the new party and despite the unsatisfactory of my parents had joined them in 1937. What could they have done anyway, even if she did not want to join? Ingrid was 19 and bright, she was not easy to prove wrong, for she could always argue very well. Yet my parents did not make her leave the house. They believed strictly, that she would find her way back if she stayed at home with her family. For all what was happening seemed like a nightmare which was wished to be over as soon as possible, well, it didn’t soon enough.”
Johann sipped his beer, looking at a door of a room, where Annie had not been, but from the look on his face she could estimate it to have been Ingrid’s. Lazarus, the dog, put his head on Johann’s lap. With a vague smile, he caressed Lazarus, keeping his eyes on the door. Annie waited a while, already living with Johann for more months, she knew that he still needed some silent moments to him alone. He had of course improved a great deal after that “marguerite attack” of his; the way Annie called what he had had to go through 5 months ago.
The flash back took Johann much longer than it should have, so Annie interrupted: “Johann, what happened to Ingrid?”
“Oh, yes, yes, Ingrid! Well…” he said, turning his head towards Annie, “let’s keep track of everything chronologically, shall we?”
But then he did not wait for Annie’s answer. “It was in May 1939, that Stefan joined the army.” He continued. “He was not at all like Ingrid, he did not believe in National Socialism, neither in any bright future for the German race. I still remember his argues with mama telling her that this was not about “den Führer” but about Germany , he believed that if Germans refuse fighting just because they are against the regime, we would lose all we have and all we might have in the future. My mother told him that there were enough crazy people like Ingrid who would do Hitler the favor of dying for his sake, but Stefan did not want to give in. it was then my father called Hitler “den Teufel” for the first time. “Dieser verdammte Teufel hat das ganze Volk um den Verstand gebracht.“ He had said. But nothing they would have said changed Stefan’s mind. At that time, he had been engaged to Eva Lutz for just three weeks. So we all hoped Eva could make him change his mind, but Eva did not even try. She had only smiled saying that he’d escape and come back in six months.
Ingrid did not say anything, she did neither confirm nor disapprove what Stefan was about to; she just watched it all in complete silence, nevertheless with a deep sadness in her look, as if she did not dare talk and say what was in her heart.
When Stefan went away, Ingrid suddenly became kind and her behavior changed unbelievably. I believe Stefan’s departure was too much for her to take, it seemed like she did not believe in her “Führer” that much anymore. I remember how she helped me with the marguerites and sometimes, when I talked about school and how other kids were reacting towards the changes and what their parents had told them, she just said that they were all either cowards or fools. To me, she looked suddenly more beautiful than ever, she spent most of her time at home or helping mama with her students. Did I mention that my mother was a figure skating teacher? Well she was not a real coach; she always preferred teaching school children. Yes, that’s why I always dreamt of being the dancer.” Johann took another short break, drinking beer. But this time Annie could see how he was struggling to bring what he wanted to say into words. It must have definitely been tough; he even looked like he was fighting tears. Annie softly put her hand on his knee. She did not smile, for she already knew it was nothing good, she just looked directly into Johann glass like eyes to ensure him that she was there for him, no matter what.
Johann tried to smile and went on telling: “well, Stefan was away for only four months. One night she called saying that she was staying with one of her friends. It sounded really normal, I mean, she used to stay at her place once in a while, so we did not bother asking more. I … I remember…well when I woke up Elise and Harald Lutz were here, the two others had not dared come. They … no one, no one let me get out, Elise said they were going to tell my teacher how sick I was that day, so that I would not have to worry about … I … told her… that I was not sick and that I wanted to go to school.
You know, the night before she had quitted. But she was not supposed to, no one was supposed to. They had stabbed her to death, but she could escape them, she could reached, but was too week to do anything, or to call, or to get in. in the morning, papa found her only 2 meters away from the front door, soaked in her own blood.”
Johann took a quick look at his now empty beer bottle. Annie offered him hers; he took a relatively big sip and returned it to her. “It was obvious that we had to leave like all others who had left or had been exiled. We planned everything, we found the links and we paid for our fake identities. The best place for us was Paris, for my aunt already lived there ever since her marriage. Besides, we could not get much far from Germany; none of us had the courage of living far away in north or South America. We just waited for Stefan to return. Meanwhile I packed some of my marguerite seeds, for I could not imagine a life without them.
It was only two weeks after Ingrid’s death that Stefan was reported lost. So we waited four more months, but there came no news. The time was running up, we could not wait any longer. Eva assured us that she was going to wait on Stefan, and the two of them would come to Paris as soon as he comes back. So we escaped.
Julien Lefèvre was just a name in the beginning. My life went on as Johann Schwarzinger, despite what the school report might have said. I lived the same way. I had a post card with the church of our lady pictured on it on my wall and prayed to the lord in front of it every night, that all should end good, I had my marguerites planted, I had my own habits. Although it was a slow process, I felt the presence of Julien as a stranger in my life obviously for the first time when my father passed away. It felt as if in his funeral, Julien came along with a chair in his hand and sat in front of me, so that he covered me sitting in the first row as my father’s only child. Over the following years he became more and more powerful. He gained greater respect among others and managed to get himself believed by those who I loved and trusted most. He was actually a really nice guy and I was his only weakness. He would do anything to destroy me and to get rid of me. Although I was clearly defeated, for I was forbidden after all, he did always fear me. I hit 18 when the war came to an end, it was finally independence time, time to start university and get on with my carrier.
Then we heard about Dresden and what had happened. He tore my post card apart, I put it together and fixed it, and then he just covered it with a big…” Annie’s look showed that she had already been to the flat, so Johann saved his breath and continued: “and so since he never dared destroy all what was mine, he covered it all up. As time went by, I became weaker and weaker. The last time I felt some warmth upon me was when my mother was dying. Lying in her bed she called for me when there was no one else there. “Johann! Oh du arme Johann! Es wird alles wieder gut. Oh mein kleiner Johann! Du willst doch nicht lange allein bleiben, Johann!“ she said.
I wonder to this very day, if she knew what was going on or if she just wanted to calm me down.
I suspect you should know the rest of the story; the contract with Francisco, how I fell in love with you, how Julien wanted to abuse you to get rid of me for good, how your calling him devil reminded me of papa calling Hitler the same way and how it made me fight back, how I collapsed afterwards, the same as me going to the mental clinic, the marguerites, how that night at your window I realized that I could belong no where else but here, changing to me on my way back home, how I was still mad at you when you came here, how I felt at the end of my rope when you suspected who I was, my marguerite off time and how you came to this house and moved in to bring me back.”
Johann took Annie’s bottle and drank the rest. He took a deep breath, gave Lazarus some biscuits and looked back at her.
“But I don’t know yet, why you are having so many fights.” Said Annie.
“We’ll have enough time for that. Tonight was past confession time.” Answered Johann and the three of them got up to go feed the little baby boa, which Annie had brought Johann.

The End

homeless marguerites - Part 13

Johann was having a short talk with a marguerite on the sofa in the living room when the door clicked open. In the noon silence with closed eyes he listened carefully, it sounded like someone carefully opening the door with the keys; it must have been one of the Lutzs or Bernhard, they must have brought some groceries, in vain though for he was unable to eat anything but marguerites. He got up and sited on the sofa leaning back he opened his eyes when he found Annie in front of him to his surprise.
Yet he was not that surprised and also unable to demonstrate any feelings at his off time.
Actually, what happened looked more as though Annie had come back home after shopping, as if done every day, to find Johann on the sofa whispering to the marguerite in his hand. Her arrival made no change, like what happens too often to be noticed.
Annie put what she had brought on the table and she herself sat at the table watching Johann whispering for a long time. Once in a while she believed to have understood vague words he was saying.
“What are you telling it?” she asked after a while, which was fully ignored by Johann. So she sat there in silence watching him some more. “Aren’t you telling me what you are talking about?” she asked again. But Johann did not seem to be in the same Dresden where Annie was.
“Nun glaube ich, sie wirklich zu hören.Verrückt, oder?” Annie heard him say clearly this time. She got up, went to the sofa, sat there beside him, touched him on the shoulder and softly called him: “Johann, I am here.” Johann looked at her in disbelief, as if he wondered, weather it was hallucinations or the real Annie Anderson in front of him.
That was when Annie found out that there was indeed a long way to go. When a couple of hours later as Johann refused to even taste the chocolate Annie had brought – those days it was not easy at all to find chocolate in Dresden – she learned better, what Johann’s time off was supposed to mean. It was not much later that she witnessed him eat marguerites. To Johann it was all too much to take, he was not ready to face Annie, he needed the time on his own, only for him and the marguerites; he could not take anything more than that, even food.
He was too weak for feeling happy that Annie was finally there and there for him and for him only. He was too tired to talk to her, too sick to take a bite of her chocolate. All he needed was silence, to believe that the world can stop once in a while for him to catch up. He loved to take Annie in his arms and share his life and his world with her, but it was not the right time, he just could not.
Annie had already come a long way, she was not to stop now that she had finally found him and was by him, in his house and next to the marguerites. The time had arrived for Annie Anderson to learn patience, to her; it was as if she was testing her capabilities to run a family. For all what concerned Johann, Annie was there for she could no longer stand her need for a family and a home, where she could always turn to and be sure she would have a place of her own.
Hat was how Annie stayed with Johann much longer than Eva had estimated as she had given her the key; and how Johann learned little by little to have her by his side, even in his off time. It seemed impossible to make Johann eat or talk again in the first days; for he threw all what he ate up, except for marguerites. Annie knew that having a family needed great patience, especially if she was going to be the mother of this family, and she was practicing it. She made the impossible Johann response and react to her first, more as if she thought him so. It was not much easier for him. Johann had just begun his off time when Annie had interrupted, and now he was trying to learn to have his off time with Annie, he was taking great exhausting efforts to be able to enjoy Annie’s presence and was actually glad and even proud at how his marguerites could relate the two. In a week, he felt nothing to be righter than Annie being the new woman of his childhood house.
The two were both putting indeed much into this life, as much as they had to offer.

homeless marguerites - Part 12

Annie had never felt so much courage in her entire life. Although her life seemed to have been quite adventurous, she had never had to face such great fear and danger.
Her after lunch talk with Johann Schwarzinger was one of the most frightening talks of her life; as she had later told Eva in the evening, Johann had really made her believe that he hated her, so much was true, but she never thought it could have been for her origin. No, Annie gave the guy a lot more credit than that.
Annie had preferred to work it out on her own this time, for this was no business, it was her very heart beating for a man she did not really know. She had needed to figure this out by her self, that was her biggest reason for keeping names and detailed information from the Lutzs, not that she did not trust them, on the contrary, their blind trust in her and their unquestioned help had gained Annie’s greatest trust and respect; it had just been that the whole thing was too private for Annie and that she preferred to keep it all between him, herself and the marguerites.
Her encounter with Johann after lunch, his reaction and after so long having stayed there already knowing that he had had a brother called “Stefan” who had been Eva’s fiancé, had actually led her to Eva. Still having that family photo with her, Annie had hoped that Eva might have a photo of Johann Schwarzinger’s childhood, or at least one of Stefan’s youth. After all it could not have all been pure coincidence, considering the fact that she had been introduced to this family from Madame Manceau.
She had simply started the conversation with Johann’s aggression and his possible detesting her. “I think Johann hates me because I’m American” she had said.
And just as she had heard Eva say: “he hates me more, because I did not stop his brother going to the war, and then he treats me like his in-law” she had thought it to be the ideal point to switch it to Stefan and if there were any photos of him.
As Eva had shown their photo together with friends and pointed at Stefan with a big smile on her face, Annie had given flattering compliments, yet impatiently waiting for any photo with Johann in it, although she had already been thinking of visiting Johann, for Stefan’s photo had seemed convincing enough.
After having seen Johann’s photo, she had felt relieved; relieved with no real triumph yet. What if he did really hate her? What if Johann was the one who had committed the rape attempt? Or what if she was forgotten, a part of his past which belonged with Julien to what he never wanted to have back again? What if she made him suffer again?
Annie stopped on the pavement and looked around. Meanwhile she had got so much used to these streets, that even about midnight they looked friendly enough to her. Annie took them much for her protectors and saviors than for empty, half ruined, half reconstructed, dark and so often flood threatened streets, where there were enough offends taking place enough crimes being committed. That night, it looked as if they were all giving her the courage to go on and to find out the answer to all the questions in her mind in the very moment she stopped to look around.
She started walking again, she had never felt really like home in her life, she thought. Her father had been the traveling-around-the-world kind who would never settle down, so the five of them had been hitting the roads as long as the parents had lived. And then, just as it is typical of such adventures, they had both passed away in an accident. The triples were then taken to their crippled grandmother who directed their family farm after her husband’s death. Annie liked her, mostly for she had stayed the same over the years; time had never had any special affect on her. She was still the English lady who had left England with her brother in younger ages, she was not to change her lifestyle, neither her point of view. Annie had often wondered how her life must have been in England.
A few years ago, Annie had left the farm for college. It hadn’t been impossible to make a closer choice to grandma’s, but Annie had had dreams of getting away, far away. Christmas and some summer vacations to spend there were already more than enough to her. Nevertheless, even California had not given her any home impression. When she returned after educating from college, Bill and Francisco had already been traveling together for some years. She had been back for several months when they had come back for a visit. Annie had thought of it as a real opportunity to see the world. As a journalist she needed real material much more than academical, she had thought.
The boys and Annie had merely spoken about Annie going with them this time; Annie had simply packed up, said goodbye to her grandmother and all those necessary. It had been just an agreement between the three, for they had not needed more.
France had been more of an academy to Annie than home, she had been eager to learn as much as she could, to see and to experience. Neither Paris nor Francisco’s luxurious palace she could call home; ever.
And then she had strangely been dragged to this fallen city, to Dresden. A city still in after WWII crisis, she had often thought, how it must have been easier for her in the west, where Amecricans were in charge, but Dresden offered her much more than just Johann Schwarzinger.
Seeing the marguerites planted in front of the house from where she was, she stopped and a bright wide smile appeared on her worried face. She could not wait anymore to talk to the flowers. Thinking that they were now in their fully live form and much more living than ever, with their roots deep in the ground, the adrenalin rush in Annie’s blood brought her to running. She already felt like home. In no time she reached the front door and kneed jubilantly in front of the flowers. After having talked to them for quite a while, she took a look at the house. Getting here had not been easy, for the information she had had to take out of Eva had been costly.
First by asking where Johann Schwarzinger lived, Annie had been obliged to risk Eva’s trust. “Again Annie, who told you to come here,?” had Eva asked, after telling her the street name and by hearing the “an old lady whom he called aunt” followed by the name “Madame Manceau” Eva had shrieked: “Mriliene!” signs of fear had been clear in her face as she had covered her mouth with her hand.
But then in seconds she had gone to the door, locking it had asked Annie, who she was looking for and why she had been unable to recognize him by any signs, if she had really seeked what she had claimed to be seeking.
Annie had burst into crying hysterically, for it had been much more than she could take. Going through all the shit in the past months was something, and after having found the person who had brought to this place and after having been terrified to death to see him changed as if he was another person and after having thousands of fatal questions to ask, Eva’s imprisoning Annie in her room to make her tell her story saying she could not let Annie go due to security reasons was another thing. It was all too much for Annie Anderson who came from a crowded and adventurous but yet not so complicated life.
Yet Annie had been enough to her conscious to tell Eva, what she had needed to hear to calm her down and meanwhile to keep every unnecessary detail to herself.
This had indeed been too much for just one day. She took a final look at the marguerites, she had found the peace she needed, but her fear from Johann and how he would take her was still to big and after such a day she did not feel strong enough to able to deal with that. So she just asked the marguerites to take good care of Johann until the next day when she would come back.
Turning away to return to the Lutz’s, Annie smiled. The search was over; she already wanted this house to be her home. Having talked to the marguerites, she knew that Johann Schwarzinger would not disappoint her; she knew that he could not have been the one trying to rape her. She was thinking of a suitable pet.
Tomorrow, her real quest was to begin, thought Annie Anderson, and that was to gain Johann and wipe away his sorrow, no matter what might have caused it. For she had seen that deep pain, endless suffer and eternal sorrow in his look. The marguerites also seemed to mention something about it. She just wished Johann could take her as she was.

homeless marguerites - Part 11

Johann was now through; he did not want to have to bear any more of anything. The past year had been a new achievement in pain and misery to him and he could not manage to even think about breaking this new record of his.
It had all already been just too much for a lifetime. First of all the his efforts and plans just to demonstrate his existance to Julien; then he was suddenly taken by the surprise of his falling in love with Annie Anderson, which he now rathered take as a great stupidity and honestly believed, that even if everything with her was supposed to be right and even if she had had no destructive or dominating intentions, yet the timing had been absolutely wrong for his plans. But no matter what he could not ignore how she lifted him up from despair in the last moments Julien was getting the better of him, when he had been to be exterminated once and for all. Annie had proved herself as the friend in need, she had been there for him when no one else had been, when Julien had caught him all alone by himself. In fact, that was why Johann had not let her find out who he was yet.
He had to admit, that he still had his eyes on her; first for he loved her or had at least once loved her; and second for she had been this last person standing by him when Julien had been torturing him to death and most important she had called him, she had braught him back to himself.
As next, there had been all he was obliged to go through to get back to Dresden and that as he himself not as any stupid Julien oder under the cover of any other bastard’s name. harald Lutz had made the right decision to make him stay with them for the first days in Dresden, Johann knew it very well. The desasterous shock to find Dresden like that was not wear off as soon, just that now it had turned more to a kind of grief and sometime depression. It was not that irrelevant to think that it had also resulted in a great deal of aggression he felt towards people with whom he started fights.
Then there had been all he went through due to Annie’s stay in Dresden. He had asked himself so many times, if she was really looking for him or if there was another guy. The picture had appeard to him more as a sweet dream at first; a dream too sweet to be true.
He had sincerely wanted to give her another chance, otherwise he would have told her who he was the first day at the Lutz’s and then he would have humiliated her low intelligence and her shrinked American view of the world and would have told her to get lost for good.
And Annie Anderson did actually want to grab this chance. It was the last thing which had really drawn Johann to the edge. The day before the two of them had been left in the Lutz’s living room alone for a comparatively short moment. She had investigatingly stared at him for a while, although Johann was sure she had not thought that he might have noticed her look. Johann also mentioned her doubting his identity and seeing flares of the past in him. To make sure who she was really looking at, she asked: “Tu n’as jamais eu des lunettes?”
Johann had known what it was about, as Julien he had used to wear glasses for he had indeed had problems of sight, of which he had forgotten since his return to Dresden. Sometimes he thought the glasses were Julien’s. this daring question irritated him a bit, so he said in the most casual voice: “Wie bitte?”
But Annie had been wise enough to switch back to talking-to-Mr.-Schwarzinger mood right away and say: “sorry, i forgot i'm in germany! what do you do here in dresden?”
But this had been just oo much for Johann to take, so he had first tried to control himself with a sharp look which was also supposed to be allerting. “I LIVE here, I was born here
this is my hometown. don't forget missy, YOU are the foreigner here” he had said.
“i'm really sorry, i just meant what do you do! i mean what kind of job, work you have!?” Annie had answered “I may be a foreigner but i somehow like this city I wished i could have seen Frauenkirche”
Johann had known very well where this was going; although he knew nothing about Annie going to his flat in Paris, he had estimated that she must had had that little postcard of his with her as she spoke. “well for ur bad, u r too late to take a tour” he had said, trying to sound indifferent.
Eversince he had arrived home, he thought it was time for a temporary turn off. He just could not take it anymore. He would lock himself up at home, let friends run errends for him and stay with his marguerites; oh yes, the marguerites! They were all he needed at times like this. Nothing could do him good like his well trusted, well taken care of marguerites. Closing his eyes he put the firs petal in his mouth, he was already feeling lighter.

homeless marguerites - Part 10

Eva was giving Annie some general information about Dresden before the war when the five of them (Annie, Eva, her parents and her younger sister, Elise) heard someone knocking hastily on the door. Elise was the first one to reach the door and to open it with a more casual face after having peered through the slot.
As soon as the door opened, Bernhard Maubach came in with Johann leaning on him, for he had a broken leg and had clearly been beaten up. Eva felt relieved to see that he had already been to a medical center and taken care of. Bernhard and Elise helped him sit on the couch and placed his leg comfortably on it.
Now everyone except for Annie was around the couch. Johann was telling the Lutzs in brief words how the quarrel had taken place and how it had gone on. Bernhard waited patiently for him to finish and in the end facing Harald he added to Johann’s tale: “Er wollte nach Hause, aber ich dachte vielleicht…”
When Harald interrupted: “Du hast das Richtige getan.” And no one paid real attention to Johann’s nagging. Somewhere in the middle of his tale, Eva had gone to Annie telling her shortly about Johann and his fights, that it was all normal and that there was nothing in particular to worry about, for she had estimated it to be a little frightening for someone who neither knew the two guys nor could understand a word of what they had said.
Bernhard noticed Annie when he turned back from the couch to answer Eva’s invitation for dinner. To prevent confusion, Eva explained right away in English: “Miss Anderson is papa’s guest, she comes from the U.S. Annie, this is Bernhard and the one on the couch is his friend Johann.”
Having stayed already longer in Dresden, Annie felt much less curious of what might have been going on than she would have one year ago. Eva just filled her in briefly of Johann’s parallel conflicts with different people, yet not giving unnecessary information. Then the three others around the couch dispersed for Johann to be acquainted with their very special guest.



Suddenly Johann believed the time to have stopped; nothing was happening in the world, nothing was moving, no one was breathing, even the earth stopped rotating to take a look and make sure Johann was having no hallucinations when he, lying on the couch at the Lutz’s, saw Annie Anderson in front of him. When after seconds Johann finally managed it back to the real world and also simultaneously realized that he was not to jump, take Annie in his arms and kiss her, he started being surprised at what she might have had to do in Dresden.
In no interval he remembered the night he had to stay at the window not let in by her and also mentioned Annie’s indifferent face which proved that she had not been able to recognize Johann. Then the memory of the night at the window somehow frustrated him and made him feel safe for Annie could not find anything familiar in him anymore. To him this meant huge success, meant that he had finally had the last parts of Julien out of him, that he was fully Johann again and no one else but Johann. He smiled to the pleasant thought, which everyone took for his greeting Annie. Annie smiled back out of politeness and said: “pleased to meet you, Mr. Schwarzinger”
Hearing his own name, his real own name, from Annie for the first time provided him with an even more pleasant feeling, pleasant beyond the imagination of anyone in the Lutz’s living room.
But then he unwillingly flashed back to that last night at the window. How Annie had not wanted to listen to him; how she had not wanted to let him say anymore; how she had not wanted to see him as he was, to see Johann; how she had refused to believe him and in doing so she had denied his existence; his through severe pain and endless grief newly gained existence as an individual who needed not be censorated from any stupid Julien.
The memory replaced his marvelous feeling of forsaken happiness with anger, with anger and with sorrow, so that he decided not to tell Annie anything about who he was and how he had again become what he was. To prove his new attitude to himself, he turned to Harald and said: “Ich dachte die Amerikanen hätten nur die Westen.”
At which Harald frowned in disappointment.
“Ich meine, was sucht sie gerade hier? Vielleich will sie einfach mit paar Fotos einfach Geld in die Tasche rein...” continued Johann, when Harald interrupted: “Sie sucht ihren Freund” and Elise corrected him in excitement: „nicht einfach einen Freund, wenn er nicht ihren Mann wäre, dann ist er bestimmt...“
„ach, Mädchen sind überall auf der Welt gleich mit ihren Liebesgeschichten“ said Bernhard, not totaly unironically.
Yet Johann said pretty cold: „sei nicht so naive, dieser Welt dreht sich nicht um Liebe. Diese Liebesgeschichte scheint mir zu skeptisch, wie Kindermärchen!“
Eva, having already set the table, protested: “die Arme versteht gar kein Wort, und sie hat gar keine Kamera mitgebracht Johann.“
Both boys smiled at Annie lovingly, which she simply replied with a smile.
Johann suddenly felt a great deal relieved, remembering that he had already planted the marguerites in the garden and that he was expecting the flowers to bloom in about one week or so. It was true; he and the marguerites were all back and all fearlessly themselves now.

homeless marguerites - Part 9

Since his arrival in his hometown, Johann had already cried all the tears Julien had banned over the years. Back in Paris, he had heard some incoherent new of how Dresden had been bombarded and demolished at the end of the war, but he could never dare imagine such a mess of his beloved streets. The first week he had only wandered around, trying to find the places he had used to visit, when they had still lived in Dresden with his parents and his siblings. Although there was barely anything left from all what and all whom Johann had loved so dearly, he felt much better than in Paris; he still felt like home here; Dresden had still a lot to offer him.
At his father’s demand, a trusted friend had taken care of their house after the war and fortunately Johann had a home to stay at. Yet the first days, he hadn’t left Johann on his own at home and had made his to stay with him and his family, for he believed – which was not false as Johann wanted to think – that Johann needed some time to overcome the shock.
Johann had told them the story of Julien and how he had taken over him, how he himself had finally found his way back, about his stay at the mental clinic for two months after the wedding and that he had finally understood he was to live no where else but here, for he had always kept dreaming of his return and that he had still kept the marguerite seeds.
He had not really meant to tell the whole story and what he had told had mostly been in order to calm them down and make them sure that Johann knew how to take care of himself. He had escaped a lot of details like that it had been his love for a woman who had brought him back, that to this love he had planted some of his precious marguerites and gave them all to her, and how at Annie’s window he had recognized the truth that he would only manage to be Johann again, once he found his way back home.
No, he did not want to share everything with anyone, even with their highly trusted family friend or with his aunt Mariliene, who had witnessed a lot and already knew much more than anyone else. It was the time for Johann to be his own man. He had even already planted his marguerites where they belonged, where they came from, in the little garden where they had lived before all this had happened.
He had seen enough of what had been going on in Dresden; he wanted to put it all behind just the way he had done it with Julien. Yet it was much more complicated this time for he was not the only one on whom it depended. There were still a lot who did not really believe that it had all been wrong, what had been going on in Germany and in all the world, many believed a new war might be the solution; then there were those who were too desperate, hopeless or grieved to be thinking about the future, let alone taking further steps; and finally there were those who preferred others to solve the problem for them. Johann could barely decide which of them hurt him most, but after one month stay, it hardly passed a day without him getting into a discussion or sometimes a fight.
And then there was his father’s secret. As a chemist, his father had hidden certain results or discoveries of his work in the laboratory, for he had feared how they were to serve. He could not bear destroying them, so they were still somewhere and some certain people would do anything to bloom their trades with them. To their mistake, Johann sincerely did not know where his father might have had concealed them and what for, but they just did not buy this answer from him.
The whole thing gave Johann a lot to be occupied with and a lot to have to take care of, besides there was the house and the fatal issue of finding a job.
To him it was an incredibly great relief that his father’s trusted friend had remained trustworthy after all these years. It was like every time Johann needed comfort, help, advice, a family meal or just someone to talk to without fear; he always knew where he was to go to. But nothing he treasured more than the fact that they only knew Johann; to them, Julien was only a name picked up for Johann when they were forced to live under false identities in France. And the best part was that not only they knew Johann and were acquainted with his more or less short temper, but they had also known all other four members of his family well enough for Johann to make sure his visits at their house help him make the memory of his family clear again.
He could remember once more, how his brother had not been used to talking much, or how Ingrid had always been extra passionate about anything new and how she had always tried to make everything work out her own way. There were also some older memories of the times when Johann had not been born or even before his parents had got married. It was the luxury of not needing to hide himself and the pleasure of being assured that his family still existed although they were dead that led him to Harald Lutz’s house every time.

homeless marguerites - Part 8

No matter how fine Eva Lutz came along with Annie Anderson, she still scolded her father for being reckless about family safety and privacy. Annie was not the first and was not going to be the last one Harald had suddenly decided to support without any specific investigation. Eva truly believed her father should be a great deal more careful with this attitude of his. Especially cases like that of Annie's were too dangerous to play with. Harald on the contrary believed, that such hard times were foremost times to help others in anyway it was to be afforded. Yet he was not totally denying his daughter's logic and anxiety and every time she tried to talk him into changing his ways, he just smiled and walking away he said that having killed in the war, made them responsible for the survivors.
Annie was, as she claimed, an American journalist. She had clearly come to gather information. She strayed freely all over the city trying to find a young man, as she had told them. She neither had much clue about who he was or how he was to be found, nor was she telling them much of what she already knew. The Lutzs only knew that this guy had lived in Paris under another name and that he had suddenly disappeared; that Annie could only find a postcard of the Frauenkirche hidden in his flat, which made her believe that he must have been from Dresden and that he must have returned home.
This was no convincing story, yet Eva had developed some kind of sympathy with Annie. She felt Annie's story happening all around her, she knew so many different versions of it in as many languages as possible. Sometimes she blamed herself that the real reason why she trusted Annie so much and would do all what was to do for her to find her guy, was the guy she herself had lost in the war. Making sure no one was looking at her; Eva touched the ring on her finger at this thought. Silently she took a secret look at an old photo in her drawer, which showed 9 youngsters of about 17-19 years of age. Eva smiled at her own picture sitting next to a relatively taller guy with really broad shoulders with her hand in his on his lap. She caressed his face with her fingertip, put the photo back and went to the window, gazing at the view of the city.
His father had been a close friend of Eva's father, Harald Lutz. They had actually been brought up together and they started seeing each other since last years of high school. He was not Eva's first love, but the true one; for Eva knew him better than to misjudge anything about him. Perhaps Eva had been the only one not surprised when he said he had willingly joined the army, both his parents and Eva's had been shocked to this news, they took every possible effort to make persuade him change his mind, it just did not work. Eva had just smiled for she had been absolute, Stefan would not have stayed for more than six months, and then he would have found any, just any excuse to come back home. It had taken less than thattime, when Stefan had been reported as lost and most probably dead. Eva had hesitated a longt to ask his parents if they would let her keep some of his belongings which were returned to his parents.
Eva sniffed trying to get rid of thoughts and memories which were as disturbing as Stefan's absence itself. She heard her father come back home with someone else talking to him in anger. From his words Eva estimated, the other one must have been Stefan's younger brother, the only one left from their family. He must have again picked up a fight, for Harald called for Eva's help.
Eva closed the window, rubbed her right eye and leaving her room she told herself that Stefan must have had simply lost his way home to have such a dig delay.

homeless marguerites - Part 7

As a journalist, Annie did not really expect herself to be shocked the way she was, when she finally arrived in Dresden after 2 months of hard efforts. Any one who came back here must have definitely been real determined to find or to accomplish something, thought Annie during her first walk among the ruins of the city.
The only thing she had asked Madame Manceau before leaving Paris had been who she could have trusted in Dresden, once she got there. Harald Lutz had been the name with no additional information how or where he was to be found or how Annie could introduce herself to him. Thanks to her improving skills Annie had finally been able to get in touch with him when she had been staying in Cologne for short, at the time she had taken it for a blessing, for she really needed someone she could lean on in a foreign country where she knew neither any one nor the language and Mr. Lutz had warmly invited her to stay at his house, without insisting to find out who might the friend be who had introduced him to Annie Anderson. Annie had only told him that she was looking for someone who must had returned to Dresden and she needed support.
Madame Manceau had not let her take the family photo with her and all what she knew was that she was looking for a family with kids named Ingrid, Stefan and another boy. She also knew that Julien’s father had been an eligible chemist, so she had figured out she could check it by the chemists who had lived, studied, worked or taught in Dresden before the war broke out.
Annie closed her eyes for some seconds. She was standing right there, in front of her biggest clue. It was indeed huge, if it was to be still recognized for what it once was. She took the postcard out of her bag and looked at it thoroughly. This picture had brought her to Dresden, the picture of a cathedral which technically did not exist anymore. Of all the ruins she had seen, this was the worst. To see that all what the marguerite man – for Annie did not know his name - had hidden from Julien, was torn down just like the postcard which had been most probably torn apart by Julien. Annie looked at the tapes keeping the post card together and sighed at the marguerite man’s efforts to save what he loved, even when it was just a pile of broken bricks and stones. Walking back from the ruins and turning back seeing other ruins Annie whispered in grief: ”Just tell me what you are looking for here.”

homeless marguerites - Part 6

As Annie opened the door, she was already confused enough, for all what had happened during the last 5 months, were just too much for her to take. Yet she was standing there and she knew that she wanted to take this step. She wanted to enter this flat and she wanted to look carefully for any sign which could help, no matter how it scared her or confused her; she could only be glad that as a journalist in training, she was already well prepared for both. On the other hand, she was already scared and confused enough not to be really influenced buy the fear or the confusion a flat could provide her with.
This had to be cleared up once and for all.
Annie took a deep breath, got in and closed the door behind her; careful not to make extra noise, although she was absolute that there was no one else there. The first thing she mentioned were the marguerite flowers on the table. They were with no doubt same as the ones she had been receiving until very lately. Feeling weak remembering all what had been going on since Francisco’s wedding, she sat on the chair, playing with the wilting flowers.
Julien had been transferred to another hospital after 3 days, but no one had been told to which. It was about 2 months after that, when Annie had received the very first marguerite. She smiled as she thought about the lovely dashing flower, looking at the wilting ones.
It had mysteriously appeared beside her bed when she had woken up. The first days she had kept it silent and tried her best not to talk to anyone about it. The flowers were bigger than the ones in any shop she had searched in the second week, none o them had anything so fascinating, so warm and friendly and so amazingly white. She loved them more than anything she had ever had. Those days she rarely talked to anyone else than those long lasting flowers. They had warmed her heart up and filled it with joy and happiness every time she had talked to them, although they had had stories of their own, they always listened to Annie without interruption, they had never left her alone. That was why she had been unable to let them go when they had got dried up. She was thankful that Joanne had found her some spray which could prevent them from turning into dust.
For 3 months Annie had done nothing but carefully drying them, spraying them, sorting them, spending her time with them and trying to find out who had been leaving them at her bed. After 3 months when she had finally tricked him and had cut him red handed, yet she had refused to let him in when she saw Julien’s face. She had at once closed the window and although she had seen a totally new look in his eyes and she had seen the marguerite in his hand, she had not let him bring the flower inside. Watching him and the the flower all along the 2 hours he had waited by the window, Annie had remarked that there had been a whole lot difference between the Julien she had known till Francisco’s wedding and the one who was waiting to put the marguerite beside her bed. When he had finally left the flower at the window, leaving in a hurry without looking back, Annie had finally felt calm without even knowing why.
She got up and went towards the bed, for there was no separate bedroom. Looking at his bed Annie could not help how the night after she had seen Julien for the last time at the window, after dinner she stepped into her bedroom with a bed covered in marguerites.
“After that, there has been no more trace of him, or any other marguerite.” Thought Annie as she touched a poster of Notre Damme cathedral on the wall. That was why she was there; the mystery had to be solved. She noticed something much smaller under the poster, so she slowly and carefully took it off the wall and then she saw a small postcard with another cathedral pictured on it. The postcard had been torn off and pasted together again. This made it much harder to read what was written on the backside. Annie finally read “Frauenkirche, Dresden”. Annie put it in her bag when the photos on the shelf drew her attention to themselves. There were a few academical photos and a few of him with his mother, his aunt and her family.
Annie thought of Madame Manceau and how she had refused to provide her with any real information, giving her the keys for this flat, telling her that if anything was to be found, it would be found here, right where Annie stood now.
There was an outstanding frame with broken glass which held a picture of somewhat 16 year old Julien with is parents. Annie picked it up, in order to take the photo out when she found out that there was another photo behind it. It was from the same parents only some years younger with 3 kids, two boys and a girl, but none of the boys looked much like Julien. She turned it around to see if anything was written on the back.
There was written in a childish handwriting “Mutti, Vatti, Ingrid, Stefan und ich. Weihnachten 1937”. Annie thought if it had to be from 1937, so the little boy must have been Julien and he must have written the notes, she took it for granted, and put the photo in her bag with the post card.
Then suddenly, the memory of the Julien at the window and the sorrow in Madame Manceau’s eyes as she gave Annie the keys, made her feel like there was still more to this story. She put her bag down and all of a sudden, as if bewitched, she started turning the flat upside down. To her amazement and her fear, she discovered that everything was somehow doubled in here, it was like a double life, as if one have covered the other up, even under the bed sheets were sheets of another color. What Annie was discovering was so crazy, that she felt she was going to go crazy herself, if she did not leave there at once.
On her way back home she took a closer look at what she had found. She knew she had to go to this Dresden; she had to find this new Julien or whatever his name was. Annie somehow promised herself, that she had to find this name out and she knew to her despair, that Madame Manceau was not going to reveal it to her. Annie was determined; she was going to go to Dresden, no matter what it took her to.

homeless marguerites - Part 5

Joanne had seen similar scenes so often in the past that she was able to right away figure out what had been going on when the three of them broke into the old cottage. Yet there was something pretty weird about what she was witnessing. Annie was clearly scared with no doubt. Yet the way she stood there wrapped in the blanket with ripped cloths and her back to the wall, she seemed to be taking it way better than Julien.
Julien was curled up in a corner on the floor, shaking and murmuring words which no one could even hear clearly. When Annie was taken care of, they went to him calling his name several time and to their surprise, his reaction was more like an epileptical attack with the difference that he also started screaming like he was being tormented.
Though Joanne did not want to have any pity or sympathy for any guy who would ever commit anything similar, Julien seemed to really need help, it seemed as if Annie had raped him while he was unable to fulfill his plan. On the other hand, everyone knew how to help Annie get over it but no one knew how Julien was to be helped. In fact, no one, even Joanne, had a clue of what had really scared Annie.
Julien’s father had died long ago for they new, and his mother shortly before they had got to know him. He was the only child and had no specific friends, whom he could be trusted with or who would know much about his health or any specific diseases he might have had. This left them clearly only one person, and that was his aunt. All they knew was that none of his mother’s relatives lived in Paris, but he had mentioned several time to be staying at her aunt’s for the weekends, and that was the only one from his father’s side they knew.
Madame Manceau was a gentle and nice lady living with her husband, since their children had already all left. Joanne felt really sorry for her when her friendly smile suddenly left her well aged face when she saw Julien like that at 5 o’clock that morning. Joanne had convinced the guys that Julien might need specific medical care of which they were unaware for the symptoms he showed were far too strange for the family doctor to recognize what was going on with him. So instead of heading to the hospital they preferred to disturb his aunt who might have at least known which doctor was to be consulted. Joanne had voluntarily taken up the responsibility to fetch the old lady to the castle, for Julien was not to be moved to anywhere before better information was in hand.
They were still in the cottage. Bill had taken Annie away with him and was taking good care of her; he had already proved himself trustworthy to Joanne in all way and she was not concerned about Annie at the moment. The fact was that, she preferred she had been. She could not easily get along with her worries for Julien; she had not gone for Madame Manceau just for Francisco asked her to do, she was as worried and anxious as Francisco was, yet none of them really dared to express; it was not right to be worried about the guy who had intended to rape Annie and would have done so if it had not been for him dropping sick like this. But Joanne knew there was something much wronger about the whole story than her worries and Franciscos’.
Francisco greeted Madame Manceau briefly and led her to the bed, where Julien was lying with obvious medical aid constructions – for none of the three cared much to find out what those really were – all around. Joanne took a hold of Francisco’s arm while Madame Manceau bent over Julien whispering his name with in a sweet loving tone. She kept calling Julien for more times without having any answer or reaction again, then he got another attack much worse than the one before. She started humming something like a song to her nephew, a song which neither Joanne nor Francisco knew yet it calmed Julien down almost like a miracle. Only a few tranquilizers could work so quickly, thought Joanne wondered.
Joanne found Madame Manceau such a nice lady when she caressed Julien’s hair with tears in her eyes, that she felt so sorry for having to disturb her, that she decided she was not going to mention anything about what Julien had been about to do when this happened to him. She also convinced Francisco that this was not to be told unless they found it real necessary for his treatment. And for the great deal of understanding between the two of them, Francisco agreed without any further questioning.
Then Julien kind of answered to her calls with moving his head a little towards her; yet Joanne could bet she heard her whisper another name this time. When she intended to tell Francisco what she suspected, he asked her to leave the cottage with him. Looking at Madame Manceau smiling in thankfulness, they left and closed the door behind.
“Mais t’as entendu q’elle…” Joanne wanted to protest when Francisco interrupted “Ils ont besoin des moments à eux.”
“Mais qu’est-ce qui…” Joanne wanted to somehow warn him when he took her in his arm – Joanne really did not want to get distracted at the time but out there in the deem light coming from the cottage and the sky getting prepared for the sun to rise, looking at him so closely and so directly in the eyes she thought that the stories were all true, that he was really handsome – and told her: “Nous savons les deux qu’il y a des chose de grande importance qui sont restés en secret, mais c’est pas le temps cherie. Nous l’aurons, le temps à tout découvrire; nous l’aurons.”
And so she only watched in silence when Madame Manceau openned the door asking Francisco to call a certain doctor Girardin.

homeless marguerites - Part 4

To Bill, Francisco de Bergeau’s wife was as mysterious as he himself. Bill could not get used to how they lived their lives, and that was where they perfectly matched. They both had the same kind of past, they had both hit the war when they were actually still kidos – although Joanne was some years older than Francisco – and they both continued to live in the shadows of their past which happened to be following them till the day. Bill believed that was why they had found the lost peace in each other’s arms, despite the fact that none of them were in love: they shared the same passion, the same grief.
No they were not in love. To Bill, this was just to obvious, yet he found them the perfect couple and this was not going to influence the fact that he was not at all at ease with Francisco’s getting married.
He was just happy that due to her experience with emergency cases, Joanne was going to have complete understanding of why Bill had to interrupt the newly weds at their wedding night. In fact, that the two were not so desperately in love made it easier for Bill to talk himself into it; it was not their first time and was not going to be their last. As for Annie, they might all be regretting it, if they did not find her soon enough; or better say find them.
So when he knocked at on the bedroom’s door crying Francisco’s name out till Francisco opened, Bill did not lose one second, “Annie and Julien are missing, too long already. This smells fishy, we need to find them, all three.” Said Bill, loud and clear enough for Joanne and Francisco to get dressed and be out looking for the two in only 4 minutes.

Julien had done what he had to do. He was sorry that Annie had no understanding for it. They had slowly walked away from the crowed, enjoying the nippy spring night. He had been really having a good time with Annie as they had reached the old cottage. But there he was again; the guy had started the “Fairy Tale”-talk again. Julien had warned him several times, but the guy hadn’t seemed to be listening, he had been enjoying his time with Annie and he had not want to understand that he had no rights anymore, that it had been Julien who was invited to the wedding, it had been Julien who had got to know Annie Anderson, it had been Julien who was reconstructing Francisco’s castle and it had been Julien bringing it up to here. He could not let Johann take Annie away. It was about Johann much more than it was about Annie; Johann was abandoned, Johann was forbidden, Johann was forgotten, Johann had to be dead, Johann had to be taken away the last remaining of Johann; for Johann was not to exist.
But Johann was in love instead of Julien and he was trying to gain Annie’s love. Julien had known very well how this had given Johann power and how this could bring him back to life. So Julien had done, what was to be done. He had not cared what this was to be called: violence, harassment or torture.
If the only way to stop Johann was to torture him to death by means of raping his beloved Annie, Julien was violent enough to accomplish this task and then to burn all the marguerites Johann had planted down.
It actually did work, the guy – now Julien was relieved enough to avoid the name again – had backed off in his old shell, with great pleasure Julien had listened to him scream and fall down and he knew that he himself was in control again.
But then the unexpected had happened, believing it was still the Fairy Tale discussion going on, Annie had murmured some words about the devil, which Julien was unable to understand for he had not even listened to the discussion this time. The still trying to fight back Annie repeated the words with a clearer pronunciation of “devil”. The word echoed in Johann’s ear and reminded him of the man his father had been used to call “der Teufel”; the man who had ruined so much in the world, who had caused so much pain and suffer, the man who had taken so much love from Johann and for whom he and the marguerites were Julien’s prisoners over the last years. The other devil was dead now, long dead; although the people he had caused pain to were still suffering and would be for more years; no one back home could have stopped “den Teufel” or those others who supported him, they have none been powerful enough to overcome them. Now another devil was hurting someone else Johann loved. If it was to consume the last in him, Johann had to stop Julien before he could do Annie any real harm. He shouted, attacking Julien while he hadn’t had the time yet to commit what he was about to.