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.