Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part Two Page 4
“Did you know the boys’ school would rope off part of the ice rink?”
“Sure. It was only for two days and they even had the bigger part. It was either no practice or obey the set rules. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”
“Well, to your son it is a very big deal. He was their goalie and is doubtless eliminated,” Verena snapped, loud enough for Paul to wake up. “Aside from that, a von Walden called him an idiot who cannot skate. I won’t stand for it . . . even if you will!”
“She did not, Mother. Paul is lying,” Philip protested, giving a stern look in his son’s direction, who was wide awake by now.
“She called him a nincompoop, which means the same thing!”
“It does not,” he retorted sharply. “When the Major and I asked what it meant, the girls answered that it was a new name around their school. Those girls were just as serious about their practice because the winner competes against Vienna’s best. It takes quite a lot of talent and discipline considering their ages. I, for one, wish them good luck,” Philip finalized, looking once more at his son sternly.
∼
Philip Reinhardt and Major von Walden were, via mail, fully informed of the two days of inconvenience, as the boys’ skating rink needed a bit of repair, aside from their fences covered with blankets to avoid any distraction. There were too many hecklers from deprived families who would have the time of their life staring and screaming at the privileged hockey players from the most expensive Rudolfiner-Elite school. Their headmaster made sure that his boys’ privacy was guarded at all costs.
Major von Walden was presently on two weeks furlough, with his departure date set for his return to France on December 20. He took great delight in watching his little tomboy, Gaby, skating for her upcoming event, while his eleven-year-old son Andreas, Jr., was at home helping with some chores for an early Christmas. His German-born wife, Astrid, had only one servant during this hectic time with every young man by now in uniform. Being the daughter of an officer herself, she accepted any challenge without a word of complaint. Their marriage was very happy, only at times dampened by the Major’s difficult son, Bertram, from his first marriage, whose mother had died while giving birth to a stillborn girl in 1900. Bertram, who had just turned eighteen, had lived a life well beyond anyone twice his age. The many different reform schools were of little or no help, as he was still a compulsive liar, having everyone around him convinced that he was the most sincere and honest human being that walked on this earth. While officially enrolled in one of the many existing art schools, he spent most of his time in a well-known hotel, whose other specialty was known to only a chosen few. The owners never revealed Bertram von Walden’s name, for numerous and obvious reasons, with the result being that his parents were left completely in the dark.
He was staying at his best friend’s house whose mother—a widow for many years—was a former art teacher which was of great help for his own development in drawing, aside from enjoying the company of both young students in her own lonely retired life. Also, his two little step-siblings, Andreas and Gaby, would interrupt continuously with their piano and violin lessons, he assured his parents, who were, if anything, very relieved, having never missed his presence in any way. His visits were sporadic, with his friend always in attendance, both behaving in the most pleasant manner, their drop-ins never exceeding one hour. The military had already called on him and he would leave one week after his father’s furlough. Therefore, he decided to spend a few days at home, as Christmas was the slowest season for his regular and married clients who had, on such rare occasions, an obligation towards their families and had no other choice but to give the impression that all was well.
Victoria Reinhardt, too, was on this unusual and fateful day extremely busy and involved with Gisela’s rehearsal, where she had the honor of playing the part of Virgin Mary. It had to be perfect or someone else would take her place. In any case, Victoria would see her son’s practice in the weeks to come, but her daughter’s rehearsal was a one-time event.
Philip sat two tables apart from Major von Walden, completely unaware of anyone’s attendance, discussing with a group of engineers the newly received orders pertaining to the war, while trying to keep an eye on his son. Peter was chosen for left defense and took the matter for what it was… only a game. For Paul, it was a personal matter. The outcome of the hockey game depended on him alone. Just then, Philip’s internal debate was promptly interrupted. “Excuse me, Mr. Reinhardt, but I think this hobbling young man is one of your sons.”
“It certainly is my Paul,” he acknowledged, noticing his limping son being helped by his brother and a teammate, followed by a loud chatting group of girls mimicking the occurrence quite excitedly.
“That little girl tripped me!” Paul moaned in agony, pointing towards Gaby, while trying at his brother’s suggestion to put his foot down.
The Major, like several other parents of the assembled girls, stood up, very curious about any of their own daughters’ involvement, knowing it implicated a Reinhardt and a von Walden. However, Gaby lost no time, whenever she felt wronged, in speaking up.
Being the youngest and smallest of her private school, she was also the proudest in being chosen as a skater of excellence, and courageously confronted Paul’s father. “Sir, we did nothing wrong. Those wild boys pushed our separating poles closer and closer towards our space, giving us barely any room for our own practice.”
“What practice?” Paul retorted with a sarcastic grin.
“For our own championship,” she retorted hastily. “You boys are not the only ones competing.”
Major von Walden and Philip rose from their chairs, realizing that this dispute involved mostly their own offspring, while the rest of the parents remained quiet, anticipating a Reinhardt-von Walden confrontation. Both men had crossed paths on Vienna’s Ringstraβe, always waiting for the other to say something first. Now they had no choice but to speak.
“I am Philip Reinhardt, the boy’s father.” He smiled pleasantly, stretching his hand.
“Andreas von Walden, the girl’s father,” he replied rather humbly, having observed his daughter’s candid behavior. “I think we have a problem. Your son is hurt,” he said, very apologetically.
“Only if we make it one,” Philip replied congenially, with Paul watching and resenting his father’s courtesy. “Doesn’t he know about the von Waldens?” he thought furiously.
“She,” Paul pointed in ire. “called me a clumsy nincompoop, who doesn’t know how to skate!”
“Only after you called me an ugly brat and pushed the pole towards me,” Gaby retaliated with her head up high, as all the girls nodded in agreement.
Both their fathers looked at each other and laughed.
“I am so sorry, Mr. Reinhardt. I am leaving in a couple of days and it is very hard for me to punish my daughter.” The Major sighed. “But I am more than happy to pay the hospital bill.”
Philip dismissed the offer with a wave and smiled. The Major turned to Paul and said in all honesty, “I have watched you and consider you one of the best players. It’s such an honor to be a goalie. Those little girls don’t know the first thing about this rough sport, which is only played by disciplined and hardy young men like yourself.” Paul was extremely pleased as all the girls stood around to hear it.
“Ha!” Gaby retorted with all the sarcasm she could muster.
“As you can see, Mr. Reinhardt, she is a handful; my very own tomboy and quite the opposite of her brother,” he replied, looking apologetically from Paul to Philip, who rather enjoyed her courage. His Gisela may have acted the same way, he thought to himself as the Major continued. “Why don’t you girls leave now and let us men settle it?” They all left wordlessly as told, with Gaby giving Paul the most defiant look.
Philip and the Major felt themselves being watched and both men were only too happy to disappoint the curious onlookers. “I assume you are leaving for the western front?”
“
Yes, four days before Christmas. As if my presence couldn’t wait. But then again, it is my profession so I shouldn’t complain.”
“Good luck and a safe return,” Philip replied, shaking his hand very firmly. “I’d better take care of my son who seems to be quite upset.”
“Many thanks again, Mr. Reinhardt.” And turning to Paul he added, “My sincerest apologies on behalf of my daughter, as I know she will never apologize.”
While Paul gave him a friendly nod of acceptance, Philip said with a wave of good-bye, “We haven’t heard both stories yet, Major Walden.” His attention was now directed fully towards his son. “Now listen, Paul, there is always another game next year. But for many of our brave soldiers who fight and sleep in frozen trenches, there may never be another one. And if there is, he may be missing a limb or two, or even be blind. Just take a minute to think about it. I won’t listen to another word of complaint until we reach the hospital,” he said, rather annoyed, for all his engineers to hear. “Excuse me, gentlemen, for this unexpected interruption, but after I bring my son home I will have to return to the factory. If anyone of you feels up to it, and it’s not too late, I would appreciate your presence in helping me out.” They all assured him that they would return within the next few minutes, knowing the urgency of their newly arisen situation.
“That’s a Reinhardt all over again. His late father was the same, and from what I gather, so was his grandfather,” one on the engineers said proudly, with each of the rest in agreement. Two of them had their sons at the front, and all were only too happy to be part of a team who tried very hard in helping to shorten this ever-spreading war.
∼
By midnight, Philip was still up in his own converted home office and was buried behind a load of paperwork when Verena, too upset to sleep, entered. “What is it now Mother? How can I ever convince you that I am a very busy man and lost much too much time, no thanks to Paul,” he growled. “I may have to work through the whole night again.”
“Paul is in severe pain! He is crying… well, almost,” she corrected herself. “I told a servant to bring his bed in my room. Victoria and Gisela came home very late and tired, so I didn’t bother them with anything in order to give them a good night’s rest.”
“Thank God for that. Poor thing has so much on her mind the way it is. Her mother’s broken hip and Elisabeth’s cold; wonder what will be next,” he sighed. “Don’t think for a moment I don’t know a sprained ankle hurts more than a broken one. I had my share of them. You can vouch for that, Mother. I will talk to him more about it when Victoria is present. He has to learn to accept injury in every sport, but especially ice hockey and mountain climbing. He is also quite daring on the ski slopes.”
“Oh, Philip… it’s not only that. His spirit is broken and his confidence is crushed because that little von Walden brat questioned his skating ability,” she responded bitterly. “And Paul is also very upset by your friendly and outgoing behavior towards her father,” she sighed. “You seem to have conveniently forgotten that it was a Major von Walden who killed my Aunt Christina and caused my grandfather’s death because of it. Never mind all the suffering of my grandmother.”
“So that’s why you cannot sleep and came to see me. I won’t be involved in any kind of story that happened over sixty years ago. Neither Major von Walden nor I were born then or even knew that devil. This poor officer is leaving for the western front the day after tomorrow, but if you want to ruin his nice Christmas, go right ahead. Just leave me out of it, as I got a very good impression of him.”
“YOU WHAT?” she shrieked and continued so loudly, not hearing the frantic knock on the door with an excited Anette finally making her entrance.
“Be quiet for a moment,” she shivered, looking scornfully at Verena, who replied resentfully. “Who are you to burst in and—”
“Kurt is dead. He gave a loud moan, which woke me up, and when I rushed to feel his pulse, he was gone!”
Philip did not let her finish the sentence as he ran towards his room, knowing she kept an eye on him the last few weeks.
“I am so sorry Anette,” Verena cried, clutching her hand. “I didn’t mean the way it sounded. You know that. The whole thing was strictly between Philip and me, involving Paul’s sprained ankle and the way it happened.”
“I know,” Anette mumbled in sympathy.
“And all that because of a good for nothing von Walden brat! I am so angry and bitter that I will pay them a visit they will never forget… of course after Kurt is buried,” she added, fuming.
“He is dead!” Philip said, visibly shaken, as he loved Kurt and Lillian like a second pair of parents. At times even more. “I will make all the necessary arrangements,” he uttered, putting his arm around Anette. “Now he is with Lillian,” he assured her as an afterthought.
“And I cannot wait to be with Hannes,” Verena mocked, leaving no doubt about the present circumstances. “Go on with your work, Philip . . . if you can, that is.”
Anette sighed. “I will handle my brother’s affairs as instructed by him after Lillian’s death. He wants only us and Franz-Xavier at the gravesite, just like Hannes.”
“That’s wonderful,” Verena replied, relieved. “Both were so much alike.”
“I, myself, will try my utmost to get Franz-Xaver to come, even if someone has to carry him. After all, he should be permitted as Kurt willed all of the Essler estate to his home of disabled priests. Not one iota to his greedy relatives!” Anette smiled, extremely satisfied.
Verena and Philip looked at each other aghast. “When was that decided?” Verena asked, still in a state of delight.
“Right after he got special permission to visit him, giving the Bishop a strong hint concerning his will. After taking one look at that God-forsaken place, he made up his mind right then and there. Of course, the Bishop never expected to get the Esslers’ castle too! It will be auctioned off and his relatives may have to bid against each other. That will be a sight and I will be there watching. You can bet on it!”
“Count me in Anette. I am so relieved about his gracious decision,” Verena sighed. “Now we have something exciting to look forward to.”
“If I have time… well, I’d better not,” Philip stated. “It was just a thought to watch their faces, if nothing else. And Anette, before I go back and bury myself in work, I’d like to tell you that Kurt was waiting for this moment a long time.”
“I know, Philip. Thanks for all your kindness towards him.”
He didn’t answer, holding back his tears when he returned. “Work is a salvation,” he thought, closing the door.
Both women cried in each other’s arms before calling the hospital.
3
The small funeral was over, which had included a very distraught Franz-Xavier, whose difficult transportation was provided by the Bishop himself. The doorbell rang constantly, and it was always for Anette from one or the other far reaching relatives who paid their respects and wished her ‘happy holidays’ simultaneously.
“Nice try,” she told Verena. “They are convinced I am the executor of his will. Just wait until they find out they have to fight not only the home for priests but the Church as well. Quite a task!”
Verena was only too glad to hug Franz-Xaver for the last time, but otherwise had no intention of overlooking the von Walden affair. Paul’s mental condition grew worse after Uncle Kurt’s death, but she knew her grandson well enough, and felt this was only one more thing at his lowest point in his life, and she would personally see to it that he would be his old self again, though he was the most quiet of the four grandchildren, even under the most happy circumstances.
Marlene was sent with a note to the von Waldens, knowing that she was trustworthy in every way. Baroness Astrid von Walden returned a cordial letter stating her surprise, and that anytime at Mrs. Reinhardt’s convenience would be all right with her. The Major never informed his wife about the incident on the ice rink and, like Philip, considered the matter closed,
and Gaby was instructed never to utter a word.
After a long walk at as fast a pace as possible, a nervous Verena stood waiting to face a von Walden. A young, spritely maid in proper uniform took her, very respectfully, to the main parlor, while directing Marlene to a plain room with a table and three chairs strictly reserved for waiting servants. She asked, in the kindest way, if a cup of hot tea would do. Marlene gladly accepted, while Verena surveyed the tastefully furnished room and thought it didn’t match the outside at all. Just then, in came a young, graceful, and charming Baroness.
“So very glad to meet you, Madame. After all, we are neighbors.” Verena was slightly taken aback at her frank statement, not knowing how to interpret it. “Please take a seat,” she added, noticing her discomfort. In no time, it became quite obvious that the Baroness had no idea about the incident.
“I am truly sorry to intrude on such short notice, but I consider the matter of my grandson’s sprained ankle quite important, aside from it having a worst effect on his mental condition.”
Astrid von Walden looked very puzzled and replied hurriedly, “So would I, Madame! But where do I fit in?” she asked, perplexed, her thoughts racing towards Bertram, who had decided to spend his last few days before leaving for the service in her place.
“Oh no, not you… but your little girl. She tripped my grandson purposely at the skating rink, causing him to fall and sprain his ankle, which in turn eliminated him from his hockey team, possibly for the rest of the year. I strongly feel she owes him an apology,” she sighed, relieved at having gotten that much off her chest.
“I am so sorry to hear about it, Madame, and will see to it that he gets an apology in a hurry,” she replied while ringing the servant’s bell. “Hermine, interrupt Gaby’s lessons whatever they may be and have her come at once.”
“Yes, Baroness.” She bowed slightly, not unlike the servants at Verena’s place, Marlene being the only exception.
“My husband left a few days ago and I give you my word I never was aware of this unfortunate incident. But may I ask why you waited this long to see me, Madame? We should have cleared this matter right away with my husband present, as he was with my daughter. That much I do know,” she stated rather firmly.