Einhorn

Like every other story teller, I just fail to ignore the call of untold stories, so I narrate...

Saturday, October 14, 2006

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.

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

khaste nemishi tanhaiii in hame minevisi?

3:32 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

salam Ida!
nemishe ye webloge persian bezani ke ma ham bahremand shim!!
kheili hal kardam ba yadavariye mooshak ha... dasht faramoosham mishod!

9:34 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

and don't forget part-13 ;)

12:10 PM  
Blogger Einhornin said...

fekr konam in ye jur nefrine, ke man modathast nemitunam dige farsi benevisam, ya hadeaghal minevisam ham be del e khodam nemichasbe.

11:22 PM  

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