Sea Air (29 page)

“You’d think they would have realized that before the meeting.”

“They should have. But I know these guys: they shoot first, then ask questions later—if they ever ask questions at all.
Hmm
. Maybe somebody should enlighten them.” Mathis grinned. “It would be fun to watch them panic.”

I found that I was able to smile again. “Maybe they’d rubber-stamp the thing, if someone put their feet to the fire.”

“I’m not begging. For me, that business is over. Even if they came crawling back now—well, you snooze, you lose.”

“It’s a pity to let all that work go to waste.” I shook my head. “It’s a beautiful project.”

“Yes, it is. But who knows?” Mathis spoke so softly I could hardly understand him. “Maybe others would be interested.”

“You want to try somewhere else?”

“It’s a possibility. Of course, the concept’s details would have to be adapted, but it could very well turn out that it would be welcome somewhere else.”

Something about that comment made me sit up and take notice, but I wasn’t sure what had set me on edge. Was it the conspicuously disinterested tone? Was it Mathis’s facial expression, which as he spoke, changed into a look I had no idea how to interpret?

“Somewhere else?” I asked. “What do you mean by somewhere else? I mean, you can’t take this just anywhere.”

“I can’t?” Mathis looked at me with a strange expression that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You have plans already?”

“Plans?” Mathis’s eyes were still focused on me, but he was looking at me as if he’d never seen me before in his life. What was going on? I waited for him to say more, but all he did was bend down and pick up another handful of pebbles. Over the next several minutes, the only sounds were the
plops
of rocks hitting water. Then suddenly, Mathis jumped up, raised his arm and hurled the rest of the stones into the duck pond, saying “Shit!” I’d never been so startled in my life.

“Let’s go!” he said gruffly.

“What . . . just happened?” I asked. But Mathis just shook his head and walked quickly back in the direction we’d come.

“Could you please explain to me what this is about?” I said when I eventually caught up with him. “Everything was so peaceful, and then all of a sudden you—”

“Peaceful?” Mathis said, cutting me off. “That’s not the word I’d use.”

“Would you please tell me what you’re so upset about? A few minutes ago you compared all this to a satire, and now you’re ready to plot a revolt.”

“I’m not plotting a revolt, and besides, I would have thought . . . never mind.”

“What were you going to say? What’s this about?” I put my hands on my hips. “You know, I’d really like to understand what’s going on with you, Mathis, but if all you’re going to do is sulk and storm off . . .” I let my words trail off. Mathis was staring at me as if I were a stranger.

“It’s a pity,” he said in a quiet voice. “A real pity.” Then he turned away. I called after him, but he just kept walking. Frightened, I stood and watched until he disappeared into the fog, then I dropped onto the nearest park bench. Why had Mathis become so irate? Was it something I said? I mulled things over for several minutes, then finally decided that Mathis’s strange behavior had to be a response to the disappointment of losing our project. I told myself not to take it too seriously. But deep down, I knew there was more to the situation than met the eye.

T
hat night I tossed and turned for hours. I finally got up and turned on the TV, but there wasn’t anything on but garbage. I finally fell asleep while reading. When my alarm rang at six thirty, my book was still on my stomach and sunlight streamed into my room.

“You know what, Momma?” Paula hopped into the room on her large bouncy ball, then climbed off it and launched herself into my bed. Judging by the sound of cracking wood, I guessed that at least two of the bed slats had split.

“Oh, Paula . . .” I groaned, but she had no remorse.

“In the spring, we’re going on a school trip!”

“Where to?”

“I don’t know. Our teacher asked where we wanted to go, but we couldn’t quite agree.”

“I see. And what were the suggestions?”

“I said I want to go to Paris.”

“Paris,” I repeated. Well, she had good taste at least.

“Yes. Anneke said Rome wouldn’t be bad, either, but Benedikt thought that was stupid.”

“Really? And where did he want to go?”

“New York. It’s in America. Isn’t that cool?”

“Sure.”

“But our teacher didn’t think that was a very good idea.”

“I’m shocked. How long will the trip last?”

“Three days. The parents are all going to get fliers about it. The teacher thinks they should know where we’re going and when and all that stuff.”

“That’s very thoughtful of her.”

“Yeah, she’s okay.”

“Should we eat breakfast now?”

“I’m not hungry. Can you make me a sandwich for lunch?”

“Right away, your highness.”

Paula leapt out of bed with one jump, and again the slats creaked ominously. I’d have to get that fixed or Mathis and I would make an awful racket together when he got back, and what would the neighbors think about that? Well, I figured, after all the time he’d spent working on boats, Mathis would surely know how to repair something like this. I’d like him to take care of it when he returned.

When I arrived at work that day, Marco was already at his desk. Or rather, he was hanging on to his desk, resting his head on his arms and staring blankly into space.

“Good morning. I didn’t think I’d see you here today,” I said in a cheerful voice.

“Me either.” Marco’s voice sounded like a croak. When he lifted up his head, he looked quite pitiful, with deep black rings under red-rimmed eyes made all the more apparent by his very pale face. “After I threw up twice on the bedroom carpet last night, Ines said she didn’t want to see me today—so I figured I’d come in.”

“Sounds like a wild evening.”

“Christoph and I had a lot to drink.”

“I see.”

“Is Vera in yet?” Marco asked.

“No. I have no idea where she’s hiding.”

“Crap. I could really use some coffee now.”

“You know, you could try making it yourself.”

“Fine. I see everybody’s conspiring against me today.” With tremendous effort, Marco raised himself from his chair, but I gently pushed him back down into it.

“I can’t watch this. Sit tight, I’ll make it for you. You like yours black, right?”

“Thanks.”

A few minutes later, I came back into the office carrying two steaming cups of coffee. “So how’s Christoph doing?” I asked. “Did he get completely loaded, too?”

“I think so. I can’t remember anymore.”

“All right. I’ll call Sandra and see if everything’s okay.”

Marco nodded weakly. Both of his hands clutched his cup as he gulped his coffee.

“I’m okay,” Sandra said when I called to check on them. “I don’t really know what to say about how Christoph’s doing because he’s still in bed. He took a cab home sometime last night and rang the doorbell like a crazy person because he couldn’t get his key in the lock. Have you heard from Marco?”

“He’s sitting at his desk.”

“Really? Then he must not have drunk anywhere near as much as Christoph, who couldn’t even—”

“Whatever it was, Marco probably couldn’t, either. But Ines must have been desperate to get him out of there after he threw up on her carpets twice. In any case, he’s hanging around here more dead than alive.”

“Have you spoken with Mathis?”

“Not today. I expect he’ll surface again soon. If I know him, he spent half the night trying to figure out what to do next. Maybe he’ll have some new ideas.”

“I sure hope so. Then at least
one
of them will have done something creative about all this. Maybe he can think of something for Christoph to do. I’m afraid he’ll be in shock for days and won’t be able to even think about the future.”

“What a damned, stupid idiot that director is to have said—”

“You know, Nele,” Sandra said, “this might actually be a blessing in disguise. After all, Christoph has been fed up with his job for a long time. Now, he’ll
have
to look for something else. This could be our chance.”

“You don’t sound too upset about what happened.”

“I’m sorry about all the work you’ve put into the project, and—who knows—maybe it would have turned things around at Christoph’s job, too. But to tell you the truth—better an end with terror . . .”

“Than terror without end,” I said, finishing her sentence. “You’re probably right. Everything happens for a reason—I’d just feel a lot better if I knew what that reason was! It’s a good thing you guys have your income from writing now. It looks like you got the idea for Heinrich the Seal just in time. Now you guys can take your time and relax.”

“I wouldn’t suggest saying that in front of Christoph—even if it’s true. He’ll act as though you’re castrating him.”

I’d hardly put the phone down when it rang again. I glanced over at Vera’s desk but it was still empty. I sighed and picked up the receiver.

“Nele Martens.”

“Oh, Ms. Martens! I hadn’t expected you to be there.”

“Where, exactly, do you think I should be, Mr. Mayor? Looking for a job, maybe?”

“Ha-ha, always making a joke. I’m glad to see you still have your sense of humor. Yesterday, Mr. Wiegandt and Mr. Gerlach were—”

“Mad as hell . . . and they still are today. As am I.”

“Oh.” The mayor swallowed so hard I could hear it over the phone line. “I can assure you, Ms. Martens, that none of this was directed at you or Mr. Wiegandt or—”

“Mr. Mayor, I don’t think I’m that important. Of course it wasn’t directed at me.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that.”

“You may have more trouble explaining your decision to the thousands of unemployed people in our region who would have had a chance to break into the labor market if it wasn’t for you and Mr. Schlüter. And to their children, who would have been proud of their parents. And to the taxpayers who will bear the responsibility of supporting them now, thanks to you.”

The mayor remained silent.

“Are you still there?” I finally asked.

“Yes. Um . . . Ms. Martens, there’s one thing I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“I wondered if we could possibly work together to come to an agreement about the press release? I just got a call this morning from—”

“You want to keep the truth from the public?”

“What I’m saying is that sometimes it’s better for all—”

“You mean, for Mr. Schlüter and yourself.”

“You must understand, Ms. Martens—”

“Mr. Küsterer, there’s only one thing I understand about this situation, and it’s that you aren’t willing to stand by an important decision once you’ve made it. I’m not sure which is a bigger factor in all this, the upcoming elections or your failure to grasp the inevitable consequences of your decision.”

“I already tried to explain that yesterday.”

“I’m afraid that attempt failed miserably, and honestly I can’t imagine an argument you could make that could convince me you’re doing the right thing. Good-bye, Mr. Küsterer.” As I hung up, I realized that I was shaking all over. But I felt happy with myself. What the press wrote about the mayor and the director of the building department was their problem, not mine, and it was up to them to decide what to do about it.

That’s funny,
I thought. I’d tried repeatedly to reach Mathis, but nobody in his office knew where he was, and no one had been able to reach him by phone. I decided I’d try again when I got home.

Vera hadn’t shown up at the office all day. Just like with Mathis, I’d been unable to track her down, but there was a good chance that she’d told us she was taking a vacation day and Marco and I had just forgotten. It wouldn’t be the first time.

I finished some tasks on my to-do list before deciding to go home. As I walked past Marco’s office, I glanced inside: it was empty. Where was he, anyway? I was about to draw the door closed behind me, when I heard a rustling sound. I peeked around the corner and what I saw was so pathetic I had to pick up the phone and call Ines.

“Your husband is curled up on the carpet in his office in the fetal position. I was just wondering whether he has a pacifier I should look for, or whether I should just give him his thumb.”

Ines laughed. “It’s even worse than I thought. All right, then he can come home. I guess I’ll have to pick him up.”

“You could just leave him here. There must be a blanket around here somewhere I can throw over him.”

“And then tomorrow he’ll file for divorce. No, thanks. We need our breadwinner.”

“I’ll take him home then. There’s no need for you to drag the baby down here. I’ll have him home in less time than it would take for you to pack up her things.”

“That’s so sweet of you. I’ll return the favor.”

“I’ll take you up on that sometime.”

Waking Marco up wasn’t easy. I wiped his face with a wet rag a few times before he started to come to.

“Nele, what are you doing here?” He tried desperately to keep his eyes open.

“Working.”

“Here?”

“Where else?”

Marco looked around the room, glassy-eyed, as it began to dawn on him where he was.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. You were apparently in the mood for a little nap. Probably because Ines threw you out of the house.”

“Ines! That’s right. Boy she was mad!” Marco rubbed his head, his face contorted with pain as if Ines had hit him with a frying pan.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that she’s granted a pardon. I’m driving you home.”

After several attempts, Marco finally stood up on wobbly legs. I hooked his arm though mine and marched him off to my car, and when we finally arrived at his front door, Ines let him in with a grin.

“If you ever have to retrieve your Mathis, you can count on my help. Thanks, Nele.”

I had no idea how prophetic Ines’s words would prove to be.

“Is Mathis coming tonight?” Paula sat with her homework in front of her, and she’d been chewing on her pencil for quite some time.

“I don’t know.” I kept getting Mathis’s damned voice mail, and his unreachability was really starting to annoy me. He couldn’t pout forever! Surely he knew this was a sore point for me. Hadn’t he promised me on vacation that he would do better about disappearing on me? It wasn’t as though there was a real crisis at hand.

“Call him then!” said Paula.

“Very funny!”

Paula gave me a look of confusion. “Why are you so angry, Momma?”

Pull yourself together, Nele,
I told myself.
This isn’t Paula’s fault!

“I’m not angry, Paula. I’m just stressed out because I’ve tried so many times to reach Mathis. He’s not answering the phone.”

“Should I try to call him?”

I handed her the phone, but she didn’t have any more success than I’d had.

“It’s only the answering machine.”

“Why do you want to talk to Mathis?” I asked her.

“He’s supposed to help me with my math homework. It’s hard.”

“Why don’t you ask for my help?”

“It’s too confusing for you. Only Mathis knows how to do this hard stuff.”

“I already told you, I can handle it.” I sounded as irritable as I felt.

“I guess we could try.” With a dubious look, Paula shoved her homework worksheet across the table, and then she jumped up from her chair.

“Where are you going, Paula? Come back and finish your homework!”

“I want to get the telephone book.”

“Why, for God’s sake, do you need that now?”

“I want to look up Mathis’s number.”

“But you already called him!”

“That was his cell number. But he has a home phone, too, and I want to call it. If he doesn’t have his cell phone on, he must be home.”

“But you can’t call him there!” My words sounded sharper than I’d intended.

“But why not?” Paula’s eyes were suspiciously wet.

Nele! Pull yourself together.
I took a deep breath.

“The thing is, Paula,” I said carefully, “Mathis lives with his other family, and they definitely don’t want us to call there.”

“But I don’t want to talk to them; I want to talk to Mathis!” Now Paula really started to cry. “Why don’t they like me, Momma?”

I put my arm around her and stroked her hair.

“I know this isn’t easy to understand, Paula, but it really has nothing to do with you, I promise. It’s just a difficult situation. Come on now!” I used my most encouraging tone. “Let’s work together on your math. Surely you and I can do this without Mathis!”

“You think so?” Paula sniffled loudly as she wiped her nose.

“Of course.”

“If Mathis can’t come,” she said then, “maybe we could call Steffen. I mean, he’s a doctor, and he’s really smart in math.”

It felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I’d been thinking about the issue of reliability all day in light of Mathis’s silence, so thoughts about Steffen were inevitable. I’d spent all day turning away from those thoughts, and now Paula was serving them up to me on a platter. Steffen was no substitute for Mathis in my mind, and not just in the area of math homework. I loved Mathis, and only Mathis, even if he was unreachable—again.

“Come on, Paula, we can do it without the men.” I resolutely pulled her math workbook toward me.

I tried to stay upbeat while we worked on her homework, but it was difficult for me. Paula calmed down after a while, and she even seemed to be having fun—unlike me. Though outwardly calm, I fumed on the inside. It wasn’t unheard of for Mathis not to get in touch with me for a whole day, but my intuition told me that in this case something was really wrong.