The Story Begins (22 page)

“Still, I’d like to know what brilliant ass cleared the pilot for take-off knowing what the conditions were, or would become. The lot of them should be kicked out of the Service for such recklessness, if you were to ask me. I mean, how stupid can one be? You know!” grumbled the Lieutenant.

“Oh sir, believe me when I say that I’ve met some pretty dumb people in and out of the army. I mean, not everyone has the same level of intelligence, that’s just a fact of life regardless of if you are in the army or not; but some of the people I’ve met so far in my life, it’s like they were consciously and actively working towards a degree in stupidity,” Phillips said, laughing. “As unbelievable as this chopper thing is, believe you me, the stupidity behind it isn’t.”

Jaden couldn’t help but laugh. He agreed with Phillips. “No arguments there,” he acknowledged. “And nah, I don’t have a problem with you guys going over, provided that you’ve finished up in-house first, and that the platoon sergeant doesn’t have anything else he could use your help with. No sense in fixing somebody else’s stuff when your own crap still needs a healing hand.”

“Wilco, sir,” said Specialist Turner.

“Guys, make damn sure that you don’t forget to run it by Sergeant First Class McHenry, unless you want to spend the next couple of weekends mowing the grass all over Coleman Barracks,” Jaden stressed to them. “You know how he gets when it comes to the accountability of his troops,” he continued emphatically.

“All too well, sir,” answered Phillips.

“Only all too well,” echoed Turner. “You know what, sir? You’re all right!” he said as he grabbed a wrench then carted back beneath the vehicle.

“Damn straight, sir,” added Phillips. “I plan on extending my tour in this unit until you leave. I am not leaving here before you do, sir. I know I won’t come across another officer out there like you. Someone that can motivate his soldiers and be cool with them while never losing their respect; I’m sure there are a lot of soldiers out there that can learn from you. There’s no wonder why Lieutenant Krappa doesn’t like you much, if at all. Just the way he looks at you, it’s obvious that he has a problem with you.”

“You’ve noticed that too, huh?” The lieutenant’s suspicions were confirmed. Though he mostly thought that Krappa looked at him somewhat askance only because the former was eccentric to begin with, he did wonder if, perhaps, there was more to it. What Phillips had just said confirmed that there, in fact, was more to it than Krappa merely being idiosyncratic.

“Oh yeah, sir! It’s pretty obvious,” said Turner from beneath the truck! “What’s funny though is that the more that he dislikes you, the more popular you become with his own soldiers and the more they can’t stand him. Funny how that works, don’t you think?”

Jaden chuckled. “Come on, give the guy a break. Can you really blame him for being the way that he is? With a name like Krappa, you’re bound to have issues,” the Lieutenant joked before heading back to his office.

WHEN
the work day had come to an end, Jaden decided that he’d again take a trip downtown to break the monotony of his depressing routine. He believed that a walk and maybe a bite while out might do him some good. After a quick trip home for a wardrobe change, he headed out.

Following a leisurely walk through the main shopping strip, he stopped at a Turkish food stand to grab himself a doner sandwich. While awaiting its preparation, he thought back to his soldiers’ less-than-life-altering debate and wondered if they’d ever come to some kind of agreement, including at least agreeing to disagree. Then thoughts of the spilled water and the chopper that almost crashed into the TV tower preoccupied him; the thoughts became persistent, repeating as a song on a broken record.

“Mister. Your doner, ready,” said the man who tended the stand with a heavy accent. Jaden welcomed the interruption. Water and tower had played in his head like a broken record long enough. “Danke schone,” he said, taking it while slipping the attendant a five euro note. Deciding that he was close to the Water Tower, he thought he’d saunter over and enjoy his sandwich there.

As he neared the tower, he observed that there were quite a few people at the park, just as there had been during his last visit. The atmosphere was a cheerful one. Children played as their parents watched. Old couples watched as young men courted young ladies, possibly reminiscing on their own younger days, he imagined. Some of them, he thought, might have been remembering when they were the age of the little ones now running around playing.

How interesting the cycle of life, he mused. At a point in time, the older couples were once children who had also run and skipped about before becoming young men and women, the former working tirelessly to woo the latter and then, later in life, they had themselves become the parents of another generation, thus giving life anew to the amazing cycle all over again. He smiled.

He walked past the tower then down the steps. Though this was only his second time here, he noticed that it seemed to have a calming effect upon him. He found that it eased him and all that caused him anguish seemed to be no more. While here he felt not a void within his soul, and his agony over Melanie was no more than a fleeting thought.

Hungrily he eyed his sandwich. Removing the wrapping he took a bite of it while walking to the same bench he had sat on during his last visit. Raising his head after taking another bite, which had made him realize just how famished he was, he saw that a middle-aged couple was sitting on the bench he had hoped would be free. Looking about for another place he might sit, he noticed that all the benches had been taken. “I suppose I’ll have to take a seat on the steps,” he decided. However, just as he was about to do so, through his peripheral vision, he perceived that the bench upon which the old couple had sat when last he was at the park was now occupied by no one. It seemed so sudden, he thought. He looked both to the left and right of the bench but saw no one. What struck him as rather odd was that the bench which now was vacant had been the very last seating he had looked at immediately prior to deciding that the steps would have to suffice. He couldn’t have been any more certain that people had just been sitting there. He had barely looked away so how could it now be empty without any one nearby? Unless one’s brisk pace was unnatural, it was not humanly possible that anyone could have moved away from the bench without still being a few feet away from it. The closest steps leading out of the park weren’t far but certainly not close enough to have afforded anyone the ability to exit the park in a few seconds. Again he looked to the left and right of the bench thinking that he must have missed something, but he hadn’t; there wasn’t anyone near it, or even walking away from it, nor was there any exit that might have been hidden by the hedges. He decided that his mind must have been distorting reality. Brushing it aside he walked over and took a seat.

Taking another bite he looked at the middle-aged couple sitting where he had sat before; they might have been perhaps a hundred meters away to his left. The distance prevented him from seeing the pair well yet somehow the twain reminded him of the elderly couple he had seen at the park the first time. Thinking of them, he looked about the park, hoping that he’d see them there again today. Though he didn’t know them, he liked them and thought that they were sweet. Perchance coming to the park was a daily activity. How wonderful it must be, he thought, to come out to the park in your golden years and watch the younger generations have their turn in the grandness that is life. It must be wonderful to be happily married into one’s golden years and be as much in love, if not even more so, as when first you met, he thought, still searching for the couple. He was disappointed when he could not find them. The world was a forlorn hope, he was almost convinced, but seeing such couples made him believe that perhaps the world was not necessarily entirely lost just yet. “Yeah, right!” he said sarcastically after the thought. Nevertheless, just entertaining the notion that perhaps there was a chance that the world could and would redeem itself was pacifying. He appreciated all the serenity and joy of the place.

Everywhere he set his eyes he either saw children playing, couples – young and old – and young people gathered together, laughing and making merry amongst themselves. The few people he saw on their lonesome seemed to be students. They had books spread out across the grass or stacked on benches. He was a bit bothered. As far as he could tell, he was the only one there – who was not a student – all by himself. Finishing his sandwich he balled up the wrapping and set it down beside him, meaning to dispose of it when he was ready to leave. He leaned back on the bench and while so doing noticed the middle-aged couple seemed to be looking at him. Then their attention was turned elsewhere. Why did they remind him of the other couple? From that distance he thought that they almost looked like a younger version of the couple he had seen there the last time. Would this couple remain together into their golden years as did the first couple he had seen, he mused, choosing to believe that the latter had always been married. It made the world seem a little brighter to believe that the older couple had been lifelong partners. While his thoughts dwelled upon this, and he still looking in the direction of the couple, what had drawn their attention now drew his. Three teen-aged children – a boy and two girls – and a younger girl of perhaps seven had walked over and joined them. The children were interracial so he assumed them to be the couple’s offspring.

Resting his head against the back of the bench, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it might be like to be married and have a family. Imagining the couple seated there being himself and his own family, he endeavored to conceptualize how he might feel and be as a husband and parent. He drifted away into a daydream, trying as best he could to create the emotions he believed he’d feel.

The sound of a little girl screaming out of sheer fun brought him out of his preoccupation. She was being chased by another child. He looked at his watch and realized that he had been in dreamland for quite a while. It was now late evening. He also awoke from his daydream just in time to see the couple leaving. The woman and, presumably, one of her daughters, who looked to be the oldest of the children, looked back at him. They smiled and then waved. Initially he wasn’t sure if it were he that they had waved to. It couldn’t have been, he thought. They did not know him, nor had any kind of passing interaction occurred between them. He looked behind him but, seeing only the hedge immediately to his rear, he knew it could only have been him they had gestured to; there certainly wasn’t anyone hiding in the hedges nor was there anyone else in his vicinity. Seeing him look back then forward again, they smiled, or so it seemed for he could not be sure given the distance. He waved back. People in Germany are pretty cool, he thought. It reminded him of small towns back in the States where, in his opinion, people were usually far friendlier than those in the bigger cities. But then, being the cynical being that he was, he reminded himself that two friendly couples with their families didn’t represent a nation. And with that thought, he decided it was time that he returned home.

As he got up, a thought suddenly struck him; Phillips had asked for his water and Turner had mentioned a tower. Water Tower! Was he meant to visit here on this day, or was this merely a coincidence which his mind sought to magnify and create into that which it wasn’t? But if this were not a coincidence then what was it? And just as intriguing, if not more so, who was its author. No! It had to be a coincidence, he assured himself. After all, nothing out of the ordinary had taken place at the Water Tower while he was there. He decided that this was no more than his mind simply compensating for his unhappiness. “Simple psychology, nothing more!” he told himself.

Still feeling hungry he stopped at the same food stand as before, grabbed a couple more doners, walked back to the parking garage and was then on his way home.

That night he thought of Melanie and wondered what life might have been like with her. What would it have been like if the family at the park had been theirs? Desperately did he want to get back in touch with her but decided that it were best if he left the past where it belonged. He hoped that wherever she was that she was happy; he didn’t want to do anything that might have had adverse effects on her life. Time, he vainly sought to convince himself, would eventually heal him.

*

Though
Jaden believed that nothing extraordinary had occurred at the Water Tower, had he been closer to the couple and their children most uncanny would he have found the resemblance between himself and the gentleman; for the family he had tried to imagine was none other than his very own.

21

Down Falls A Domino

Having dropped off
Lydia at her apartment, Cassandra was on her way home when her phone rang. Adamant with regards to cell phone safety while driving, her ear piece was already in place.

“Hey, where are you?” It was her brother.

“On my way home. Why?” she asked.

“You aren’t past the gas station yet, are you?”

“No, I’m actually just coming up on it. Something you need?” she asked while decelerating.

“Yeah! Would you please pick me up a magazine?”

“The music one?”

“Yes.”

“Is that it?”

“Yep!”

“Are you sure? Because I’m not going to turn around twice after almost getting home like I did the last time because your list kept growing.”

“No, that’s it this time. Thanks. Love you.”

“Ditto. See you in a bit.”

Pulling into the gas station, Cassandra noticed a group of American soldiers gathered by a car while one was fueling it. More than likely from Coleman Barracks, she thought, given the proximity of the installation to the gas station. She parked a few park spaces away from the store doors. As she walked a brisk pace towards its entrance, she felt that she was being watched; however, not wishing to impress wrongly by venturing a look back, she kept on walking. Men, she believed, weren’t exactly God’s most brilliant of creatures. Someone in that group of soldiers, she was certain, would have gotten an entirely wrong impression if she had risked a quick glance back. She hoped that she could get in and out of the store without being approached.

Americans came and went and she had known far too many girls who had had their heart broken; as such, she had never entertained the notion of ever dating an American. She did understand that her life’s love could very well have been a service member; however, it simply wasn’t a risk that she was willing to take.

She hurried in and grabbed the magazine, turning around only to find herself jumping back and almost falling on the magazine rack, startled by the soldier who stood behind her. He reached out and caught her before she could fall.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the soldier who, apparently, had followed her in. Cassandra surmised that because he wasn’t the one settling the fuel bill. Another soldier was at the counter tending to that so this could only mean one thing. Great! So much for not being hit on, she thought. She stared at him somewhat annoyed but didn’t say a word.

“Just my luck!” said the soldier. “Every German I’ve met so far speaks English almost perfectly but of course the most beautiful girl that I’ve ever seen does not.” The soldier sighed as he looked at her with visible disappointment.

Seeing him react as he did, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Ah! You do speak English, don’t you, at least a little bit?” he said excitedly.

“Yes, I do,” she said shyly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.”

“Go? But we just met,” he protested.

“I must go,” she insisted. “Sorry.”

“Can I at least know your name?” he pleaded.

“Why?”

“A glass slipper helped the prince find Cinderella. I don’t think you’d be willing to give me one of your shoes but with at least a name, I’ll know who to ask for when I try to find
my
Cinderella.” He hoped that he wasn’t sounding too terribly banal but suspected that he was.

“You are – what is the word that I am looking for?” She paused for thought. “Ah yes, presumptuous, aren’t you?”

“My God! I wish they taught us foreign languages this well back in the States. I almost don’t even know what that word means and I’m
from
the States. Either our teachers could learn a thing or two from yours, or as students we don’t do a good job of paying attention – maybe both.”

Her phone buzzed. She looked at it. It was a text message from her brother. “I must get home. My family is waiting for me. Thank you for preventing my fall, but then should I really be thanking the cause of it in the first place?” she said, smiling.

“Witty, aren’t you? I’m Matt but you can call me Phil.”

“I’m Cassandra.”

“Forgive me if you find me a bit too forward but do you have a boyfriend?”

“No. I do not date. And if I did, it certainly would not be an American,” she answered, intending to disincline him from any further pursuit. “Now, please, I must go.” It then occurred to her that as often as she had repeated that she should be going, she had made no physical effort to do so. It was not as though he was truly impeding her movement so why weren’t her feet moving?

“Okay, just one more question – why don’t you?”

“Why do I not what? Date in general, or why not Americans?”

“Both.”

“Firstly, I’ve never met a guy I wanted anything more from than just friendship and, secondly, never will I date Americans because I’ve had a few friends who have had their hearts broken by the same. You come and then you leave. I do not intend for that to happen to me. And to dissuade you even further, the chances of me doing so are more an impossibility than remote.”

He was very impressed by how well she articulated herself. “To dissuade me even further the chances of you doing so are more an impossibility than remote!” he repeated. “Wow! Your English really is good. I guess your reasoning is fair enough. Nonetheless, can I at least give you my number? Though I’d like to, I won’t ask you for yours. Just take mine and call if you change your mind. I’m willing to settle for just friends,” he said, rather unconvincingly.

“Sure you are!” she said sarcastically. “That would probably make you the first guy to actually genuinely accept that answer from a girl. I honestly don’t know why I’m doing this but… okay.” Reluctantly she took his number. “Goodnight,” she said as her phone buzzed yet again.

“I’ll say goodnight once I’ve walked you back to your car.”

“Persistent, aren’t you?”

“Only when it’s worth it,” he answered.

She blushed.

He watched her drive off, wondering if that was the first and last time that he’d ever see her.

THE
FOLLOWING DAY: A phone beeped then buzzed rather loudly. Someone in the classroom was either receiving a call or a text message; whichever it was, the professor wasn’t at all pleased.

“What have I told you about cell phone use during class?” she asked sternly. “Come on then! Somebody tell me just how many times I’ve told you as soon as you step through that door into this classroom, all cell phones are to be turned off. Not on vibrate, not on silent but completely turned off!” she said, obviously vexed. “A thousand times, or was it perhaps just 900? Whoever’s phone that was, turn it off immediately! And for anyone else unsure regarding the status of your phone, check it right now and follow suit if need be.” She looked around the classroom expectantly; however, no one stirred. “Let’s return to the lesson then, shall we?”

Discretely Lydia opened up the message. It was from her mother. ‘What do you girls have planned for tonight?’ she had written.

‘I’ll call when I’m through with class,’ Lydia stealthily wrote back.

Cassandra, sitting beside her, threw her a quick glance and, having made eye contact, nodded towards the professor.

Lydia smirked, pushed the send button, and then turned the phone off.

Within minutes the class was dismissed. As comeuppance for the disturbance, the professor assigned the class additional chapters of reading. A few students grumbled and cursed quietly. Now it was the professor who smirked as the students walked past her, as though to say ‘See how it feels when some of your time is taken away from you.’

“Who sent you a message?” Cassandra asked as they stepped into the hallway.

“Mom,” she answered as she dialed her mother’s number.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing! She just wants to know if we have any plans for tonight.”

“Do we?”

“No… not yet, anyway. I wonder if she has anything in-” Her mom answered. “Hey! Que passa, Mammy?”

“It’s Friday!” her mother exclaimed. “I’m off tomorrow and was planning on going out to the theater later tonight and watch the last showing of anything that looks good. I’m hoping you two want to come with me. Your dad can’t make it, he’s inundated with reports he has to finish up for work.”

“Cassandra and I don’t have anything planned so I’m thinking yes. Hold on while I ask her just to be sure, okay.”

Cassandra was already nodding in consent even as Lydia was turning to her. “She’s in, Mommy. Girls’ night out! It’ll be fun. What time are you getting home?” Lydia asked as they stepped out into the courtyard, exiting the palatial structure of the University of Mannheim.

“I’ll be home around 1800 then at your place an hour or two later.”

“Okay. Cassandra and I are going to Laudenbach now but we’ll be back at the apartment in time.”

“Okay, mi amor. I’ll see you both then. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too. Adios!” Lydia said.

“Adios,” said her mom.

The girls exited the university grounds and walked down the street.

“I’ve always admired that, ever since we were children,” Cassandra said.

“What’s that?” Lydia asked.

“The way you switch languages when you talk. From German to Spanish, or to Portuguese if it’s with Dad, then back again. I’ve always thought that it’s so cool.”

They stopped at a traffic light and waited for the pedestrian signal.

“You know what?” Lydia said as though realizing something for the first time.

“What’s that?” asked Cassandra.

“Why do you and I speak only in one language? I mean, we grew up in each other’s home and you’ve learned both Spanish and Portuguese over the years.”

“You’re right! As strange as it is, the thought of speaking anything other than German never occurred to me. Why don’t we is really a good question,” Cassandra said, giving serious thought to why in all that time it had never occurred to them to speak in either Spanish or Portuguese.

The light changed color, permitting them to cross.

“Well, it’s probably always been that way because my parents could only communicate with yours in one language and the both of us simply followed along. Makes sense,” Cassandra said.

“Yes, it does,” Lydia agreed. “Where did you park, mi amor?” she then asked, looking forward to dropping the heavy load that was her backpack.

“Two streets over, it was the only parking I could find. Yeah, I feel the weight too.” Lydia had something on her mind for she now smiled, unaware that she was doing so. “What is it?” Cassandra asked as they walked.

“What’s what?” Lydia asked.

“You’re smiling.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“I was just thinking about our childhood,” Lydia shared.

“What about it?” Cassandra asked, smiling too, as well reminiscing on fond memories.

“It is because of us that our parents lived in the same apartment building until I decided to get an apartment. Had I decided to stay at home, never bringing up wanting to get my own place, your mom and dad never would have thought of buying a house in Laudenbach and we’d all still be in the same building.”

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Our friendship means as much to them as it does to us. You’re right, had you not gotten your own place, my parents never would have sold the apartment.” They finally arrived at the car.

Though the car functioned well, every time Lydia laid eyes on it, she couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, it was that held it together and kept it running. It was a 25 year-old vehicle with close to 394,000 kilometers on its odometer yet it functioned as reliably as any new car.

There could only have been two plausible explanations with regard to why the vehicle held together, she always teased Cassandra; either the engineering was truly exceptional, or God’s hand was at work. She suspected that the latter was a more tenable explanation. It was merely a matter of time before the police arrested Cassandra for keeping that eyesore on the road, she’d often tease her.

“I know. Ours is a very special friendship,” Lydia said cheerfully as she opened the passenger-side door.

Cassandra merged into traffic. “Want to go grab something to eat before heading back home?”

“No, I don’t feel like anything right now.”

There was a bit of silence before Cassandra spoke again. “Have you ever wondered if… err… b-b-boyfriends could ever find a niche in our friendship?” she stammered, making every effort not to sound nervous.

Lydia found the question utterly random and curious as it was; Cassandra’s stuttering made it all the more intriguing. Lydia looked at her. Did Cassandra wish to make known a matter, or was the question simply one most random in nature? If random, though, why had she stammered? Never had the subject of boyfriends ever been addressed between them; at least not in a context that had any direct bearing on either of them.

“What is it?” Cassandra asked, trying to sound as though there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary concerning her query.

“It’s nothing. I guess I was just a bit thrown off when you mentioned boyfriends; to answer your question, though, no. That thought’s never occurred to me. I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she said, opting to believe that there wasn’t anything to it. She did think to ask that she might be certain but had then decided against it. She was ambivalent as to whether she did genuinely believe that there wasn’t anything to it; she was certain, however, that she would not particularly care for what the answer could otherwise be.

Cassandra changed the subject back to that of food. “There’s plenty of stuff to snack on at home if you feel like it later. I, on the other hand, need to grab something now. I’m thinking a doner.”

LATER
AT LYDIA’S APARTMENT BUILDING: Climbing up the stairs to the fourth floor where Lydia had her apartment, they ran into Lydia’s mother traveling downstairs with a basket of laundry.

“Hola,” greeted Cassandra.

“Hola, girls! I’ll be right up, okay?” Lydia’s mother said as she continued to climb down with what looked like a heavy load.

“Mommy,” Lydia called out after her, protesting, “come now, I can do my own laundry.”