Heroine: The Husband's Cologne (18 page)

“See, this is the trigger...” it made a loud click as I pulled on it.

“...and that's where the empty shells fall out. Just in case we get ambushed tonight and I die the hero's death...” I shrank back as he said this and looked at him wide-eyed.  He burst out laughing.

“...just kidding.  Sorry, that was uncalled for.  Anyway, when you pick up the gun, it will have the safety on.”  He pressed a small lever on the handle.

“Now you can pull on the trigger, but nothing happens.  If you intend to shoot, you have to take the safety off first.”  It clicked again.

“Now you can pull it.”  We practiced a couple of times, and then it was with a lingering kiss that he convinced me that we really weren't faced with an attack tonight. 

Then I remembered that I still wanted to see the mysterious books he kept in his chest of drawers.  They
were locked up in a black box, but he flatly refused to show them to me. 

“Those are classified documents and they should really be kept in a safe, but I can't afford one right now.”

On Monday we loaded my suitcases into his black Golf and he drove me to the airport in Frankfurt.  I had too much luggage to be carrying on the train.  Evidently it was too much for the airline as well because I was forced to pay 120 Euros for the extra weight.  Norman laughed.

“Did you
have
to
pack your entire wardrobe?  Daniel told you that you could get yourself a whole new set of clothes over there, didn't he?”

“Well I'm not going to leave behind all the expensive stuff that Erich bought me. I'll have nothing else to show for our relationship.  My studies are over, my scholarship is gone, and now I'm going to be living off of Daniel.  I'm giving up everything. At least let me salvage some nice clothes.”

“That's right, I had forgotten.”  He handed me a flat package, which I stuffed into my carry-on.

“That's your mail from the last few days.  I got it from your apartment on Saturday.  Starting Wednesday I'll have access to the P.O. Box, then I can pick it up once a week and send it on to you.”

Our farewell at the checkpoint made me tear up, and I managed to persuade myself that his eyes were welling up too.

It was the first time that I was boarding a plane, and I was nervous.  The size of it impressed me and I was determined to be given an ample seat by the flight attendant, just like I'd seen on TV  As it happened, the friendly lady at the plane's entrance sent me along to another lady. She passed me on to an affable man in a uniform, who showed me to my seat in the penultimate row.  Still, it was a window seat, so that I could turn freely to the side.  My legs barely fit behind the seat in front of me.  As I turned around, I noticed that the restroom was only one row behind mine.  I remembered the first time I had gone to the Irenenhöhe restaurant with Erich.  And like that time, I thought of the line in the book on social etiquette, which said that you could tell the status of a restaurant patron from how close he was made to sit to the restroom.  I realized that I was back where I had started.  Pretty close to the bottom.

Although I was anxious and frightened as the huge machine rattled and shook its way down the runway, by the time we were over England I was so exhausted that I dozed off.  Next to me sat a plump American, who had started snoring shortly after take-off, which served to put me instantly at ease.  Flying couldn't be that dangerous after all. 

The screen display above the seats indicated that we were flying over Iceland, as I woke up again.  Suddenly I panicked.  Had I boarded the wrong plane?  This one was flying north!

I wanted to fly to Los Angeles, and that was in the other direction!  I called the flight attendant, who smiled and patiently explained that when flying to the U.S., it was customary to fly northward a little first.  Once we reached Greenland the pilot would then slowly head south toward the Canadian coast.  From there it was straight to L.A., as he referred to it.  Greenland, too!  I
was impressed, especially when I later glimpsed some icebergs from the window.

The narrow seats were more bearable than the boredom which soon assailed me.  I knew that the duration of the flight was around 13 hours. That much was made clear by the captain at the start.  I only had one book in my carry-on bag, and I finished it before long.  As I was putting it back into my bag, I noticed the envelope that Norman had given me that I had thrown in my bag in a rush earlier.  I tore it open and found a few letters.  One was a letter of termination of my cell phone contract, which, due to the contract clauses I still had to pay for the next three months (thieves!); a letter from the landlord who also confirmed the termination of the rental contract, and a few other unimportant papers.

A white envelope made out of thick customized stationery was embossed with an emblem which I immediately recognized.  It was from Erich's family and bore my full name written in fine penmanship.  I read it, and as I did I was hurled through a whirlwind of feelings that left me in tears by the end.  This is what it said:

“
Dear Juliane,

Norman asked me not to contact you personally anymore.  He made it abundantly clear to me that you have suffered a great deal after the events of last week, and that your feelings have been deeply hurt.  I will, in any case, respect the request he made on your behalf.  But he and I agreed that I could write you a farewell letter in order to offer a few explanations.

Even if this is the last time that I write to you, it is certainly not the last I would like to hear from you.  On the contrary.  You are free to call me or come by to visit me any time you wish or at any moment that you may need to.  That's why I would like you to keep the key to my house, in the hope that it will remind you of the wonderful time that we spent together.”

I realized that I still carried his key in my pocket!  Who knows, if one day in the distant future I returned to Cologne...

“Silly cow,” I heard myself say.  “Don't you ever get enough?”

The American seated next to me bolted awake briefly, looking over at me with big watery eyes.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” I said, smiling at him.  I said it just like I had learned it in my English lessons.  He grinned back.  Then I turned back to the letter.

“
To my profound dismay I also learned that you had to terminate your studies and flee to the U.S.” 

Erich had always been pretty formal in his locutions...

“
The events that have so deeply disrupted your life plans have affected me as well, as I feel responsible for them.  That is why I will try to at least compensate for the financial setbacks that you suffered through the loss of your scholarship.  I have set up an account in your name – see the details below – in which I have deposited a sum which should guarantee you a moderately comfortable lifestyle.  You will find the corresponding check card in a letter which Norman will be forwarding to you.  As I have no children and will be retiring in a few years, this will be certified by a notary.  You can call Otto about it at any time, since he is not only my lawyer, but my notary as well.” 

I sat there with my mouth agape for a moment, before I was able to read on.

“Norman, I love you! I’m sure you managed this!”  I said, rejoicing quietly to myself and glancing at my neighbor, who was still asleep.

“
I was hoping that the time after my tenure at the university could be spent by your side.  I wanted to offer you a carefree life and wished that you could be with me, even though some of my requests must have seemed outrageous to you.  I thought that we could lead this life together.  Your willingness to help me face my shortcomings not only won my respect but my love.” 

Was it his helpless words or his declaration of love that was giving me a lump in my throat?

“
This future that I dreamed of I managed to destroy through my own naïveté and selfishness.  Please forgive me.” 

I had already forgiven him.  And why did I feel this pressure behind my eyes all of a sudden?

“
Had I known what Horst and Igor were planning, that night would never have taken place.  Horst and Tanja had always been those we trusted in the past to invite young people who were willing to indulge certain wishes of ours.  It was when Igor arrived on the scene that things went awry.  That's what I was told by Tanja.” 

Now you're weaseling your way out of the truth, I thought to myself.  I felt the anger rise in me.

“
We made it a point that everything should run smoothly, and the participants be given their due.” 
God, what high-flown language!

“
This time was no different.  Each of the protagonists was to receive 1,000 Euros.  That was the agreement.  Since you had agreed to participate as a favor to me and were not part of the professional group of performers, we hesitated as to whether to offer you money beforehand or not.  Horst was to inform you of the general agreement afterward and give you a one-time bonus of 5,000 Euros.  Norman told me that Tanja had mentioned a figure of 20,000 Euros.  This isn't accurate, since that was the overall sum paid by everyone present.” 

That bastard Horst had obviously conned not only Erich and me but everyone else out of the money.  Paul alone had shelled out 4,000 Euros!

“
However that may be, I have permitted myself to compensate you for this broken agreement as well, and I hereby give you this sum as a helping hand for your future.  Please do not take this as payment for that night; rather, it is my punishment for not having protected you as I should have.” 
The pressure behind my eyes gave way to the first tears.  I could have used a little comforting at that very moment.

“
It was only this week that Paul informed me of what Horst had done to you and the harmful consequences it can have.  I fervently hope that you will not have to suffer any of those consequences as far as your health is concerned.  Now, there is one last piece of information that I want to share with you.  The pictures that I made in our private moments together I will keep.  My heart is so heavy that I want to be able to cherish at least these memories of you.”

A wave of shock jolted through me upon reading this, and I went rigid.  There were videos that he had made.  I had watched him make them every time, but somehow I never thought that they would leave traces; I had simply assumed that he would have erased them afterwards.  I felt sick. 

I was about to order a cognac to settle my nerves, when I remembered what both Paul and Tanja had warned me might happen if I did.  A brief glance over at the man sleeping beside me was enough to convince me to try some deep breathing instead.  I looked out the window and watched the sunset, which had been lingering for hours now in the evening sky.  Of course, I thought, we were flying west after all, chasing the sun.  I felt halfway lucid again. 

I continued reading: “...
since I made those videos with your consent...”
But you didn't think of asking me earlier, did you!

“
...they will be my keepsake of you.  I love you so much, that I can't do otherwise.  But given that I'm not the youngest anymore, I must assume that sooner or later I will no longer have total control over these devices.  Therefore I will have them locked away in my safe in my study.” 
There was a safe in his study as well?  I had only seen one in his library.

“
Otto is the only one with the combination to this safe, and he will only open it in your presence.  Everything it contains is registered under your name, and I will keep it safe as long as you are away.  I now say goodbye and wish you a full recovery from recent events and hope that at least a part of them will remain dear to your heart.  Thank you.  Love, Erich.”

His signature was barely legible. 
As for the part that he had hoped would remain in my heart, I knew exactly what he meant. 

A few hours later the pilot announced our imminent arrival in Los Angeles, and as I sat waiting, I dried my tears.

  
After the almost agonizing confinement on board of the plane I was happy to have solid ground again under my feet. It was early evening in Los Angeles and I wanted to see Daniel as fast as possible. However, the gods wanted me to first pass through stringent immigration and customs controls so that it took me another two hours till I could head for the exit. My neighbor on the plane saved me further troubles at the luggage pickup and heaved my heavy bags from the conveyor belt onto a baggage cart for me. I thanked him with a smile and he replied with a “No problem, lady.”

Daniel had told me that I should listen to my cell phone after arrival. In case he was in some traffic jam he would let me know. While I tried to activate the phone a police woman approached me abruptly and advised me rudely to let that go. She pointed to a sign that stated clearly that the use of cell phones was forbidden here. After the overwhelmingly friendly welcome by immigration officers I felt now rather intimidated and paddled to the exit with my head down.

Outside I saw nobody I could recognize. Not so fast! The guy there looked familiar! I balked. There stood Tom. Had he followed me all the way to here? But then I saw that the dark-skinned man looked quite differently. He was smaller and stockier than Tom, and older, early thirties, but almost as handsome.

I probably was too exhausted. I had been on my feet for already twenty four hours. But the similarity was striking indeed. My heart beat returned to normal. The type smiled at me and I was uncertain. Did he try flirting with me?
Then he finger-pointed to a sign in his hand. It said “Julie-Anne”. And my last name. First, I didn’t understand at all. Then I clicked. He meant me. I carefully pushed my cart into his direction. Did Daniel send a cab?

“Are you Mrs. Julie-Anne
Noula, Daniel’s wife?” the guy asked with a friendly smile. His voice sounded the pleasant American sing-song that I had already enjoyed when I passed through immigration. The language here was so much easier to understand than the Oxford English that was so prevalent at my school. I nodded and he shook my hand.

“Hi, I am Bruce Harrington.”

“Are you a cab driver? Did Daniel send you?” I was rather proud that I could understand everything pretty well.

“Well, you could think so. Didn’t he call and tell you about the changes?” I was taken aback.

“What changes?” Only now I remembered that my cell phone in my purse was still switched off. I pulled it out and switched it on. Bruce waited patiently behind the gate.

“You better come out to me from there. The cops are rather strict here. You must not use your cell phone
within the entrance area.”

So I moved towards him and then found an SMS from Daniel where he informed me about his changes of plans.

“Dearest, I am awfully sorry but I wasn’t allowed to take some time off to pick you up. Therefore I asked Bruce to pick you up from the airport. You can trust him, he is my best friend and he will bring you safely to our apartment. I love you.”

Oh yeah, I needed that! I just arrived in a totally unknown country and a guy who I had never seen before was supposed to take me home. I dialed Daniel’s phone number but he didn’t pick up. I looked at Bruce questioningly. Then my oomph feeling gave the all clear.

It was warm outside. Bruce pushed my baggage cart through some incredible chaos of traffic and people. It felt like an eternity. Then we reached the parking lot the size of a whole city. Cars, cars – wherever you looked – cars. I had noticed the size of these vehicles that moved around here everywhere. Hardly any small cars. We then stopped right in front of just such gigantic vehicle. I had spotted it before with a bit of dismay. A SUV. It made Horst’s off-road vehicle almost look like a toy car.

“A rental car,” Bruce informed me when he realized my surprise. “My old Dodge is in the repair shop.”

He loaded my bags into the vehicle, sat in the driver’s seat and I slipped onto the passenger’s seat - white soft seats made for giants, it seems. Like clouds. For a European ‘mountain goat’ an unusual pleasure. We set off slowly and now rolled on roads as wide as the river Rhine at home. I was quite impressed.

“First time in California?”
Bruce grinned. We had already agreed to drop ‘Mr.’ and ‘Ms.’ for our first names. I nodded in agreement.

“The first time in the USA and for the first time away from Europe.”

“You’ll like it. Everything here is easy going and Cali is really a fun state.”

In my mind I translated this with ‘funny place’. It took me a while until I learned more and more about the fine differences between American and English-English but I never understood them as a whole.

“How much longer is it to Palo Alto?” I asked. I was dead tired and just wanted to go to sleep.

“Daniel lives in
Roquetas, 20 minutes west to Palo Alto.” Well, that was good news. Los Angeles, Palo Alto, Roquetas. We should be there in a jiffy.

“Well, considering the traffic it may take us five to six hours to our destination. But it is a pleasant drive on the highway once we leave the city behind us,” retorted Bruce matter-of-factly. Another six hours on the highway!!
Together with a total stranger in a totally unknown area. I got a bit frightened.

“Julie-Anne.
Don’t worry about it. I’ll take you safely to your husband and soon you’ll be re-united with him.” Did he just flirt with me? In silence I stared at the road through the car window. Everywhere palm trees. Impressive.

I felt a kiss on my lips and woke up startled. Did Bruce …?

Daniel smiled at me and gave me a big hug while I was still in the passenger’s seat. I laughed out loud and at the same time I cried for joy and relief – noticing that the safety belt was still holding me back. The car was parked beside a small house in front of a large wooden garage. Bruce stood grinning beside the SUV and then lifted my bags out of the car. I had been sitting beside him for so many hours and he didn’t even try …? What a nice guy! Daniel thanked him profusely, giving him a big hug. Then Bruce got back into the vehicle. This time I was sure he was winking at me.

“Welcome home, darling.” Daniel performed a dance of joy with me on the grass of the driveway.

Some steps led us to the porch and my husband pushed me softly through the door. We stood in a living room with a couch and two arm chairs with light fabrics.

“Have a look around, darling. I go and get your bags.” I listened to him breathing heavily while I inspected the small kitchen that was connected to the main room via a large service hatch. Another door revealed a small bathroom with a bathtub. Daniel carried my bags into an adjacent room which turned out to be the bedroom. There was a bed spacious enough for a whole family.

“King-size and super soft”, he laughed loudly. “Should we now …?

“Please give me some more time. I am totally exhausted and I must freshen up first. What time do we have?” It was already early in the morning.

Once in the bathroom I realized that all of my clothes and other utensils were still hidden away in my bags. Never mind, I’ll unpack them tomorrow. I threw my clothes into the corner, took a shower and then used Daniel’s toothbrush. Completely naked I went back into our bedroom.

The view on the bed showed me that my husband had longed for the end of our separation as much as I did. Happily I fell asleep after we’d ended our segregation. Everything was back in order again.