Translated by Joe E. Bandel 2008
Copyright 2008 by Joe E. Bandel
Protected under United States Copyright Law as a derivative work of a foreign Author originally published prior to 1923
He jumped; a hand lay lightly on his shoulder. It was the tall Tewes, the reporter from the German Herald.
“Doctor,” he crowed. “That was, so to say, a real wild goose chase!”
Frank Braun only nodded, didn’t answer.
“I tried to tell them too,” continued the other. “I’ve been here every time, seen seventeen ships leave since last August. It’s always the same, nothing helps.”
He waited for a moment, then spoke again when he didn’t get an answer.
“Anyway, you speak well. You have the stuff for it and the name as well. You must help us- for the German cause!”
“What must I do?” Frank Braun whispered.
“Come, come,” the journalist patted his jacket arm benevolently. “We need you Doctor, need you! You say it like it is and you can talk the little phrases, the explosive, beautiful little phrases just like the major did a short while ago. Those are what move the masses! Words that everyone knows, that every child can learn by heart!
All the society speakers can do it over here. You should see how the words flow! But what they can’t do, what the major can’t do, is put a clever thought in here and there, in-between, something new, something for the people of culture. They are as important to us as the masses are, believe me! They must be given something as well so they are not broken down by the perpetual sameness, the monotony of black, white, red and the need of the people, of German pride, Kaiser and Reich, for the honor of Bismarck and such beautiful things.”
He took Frank Braun under the arm, went out and down with him, telling him all about it continuously. He must help, it was his duty. He couldn’t allow himself to become depressed in these days. Yes, he knew how the German customs were insulted and spit at every day in this country. You had to unite with others to protect yourself. The Committee of German Workers was now solidly established. He must join it!
Frank Braun heard all this, but only vaguely and it appeared to him as if the tall reporter wasn’t speaking to him at all, was speaking to some third person somewhere else instead.
“Yes, yes,” he said lightly.
The journalist got heated up.
“Would you stand for it?” he whistled. “I won’t! At least make an attempt! Go on Strike! Don’t work! Make a difference! It’s going well, we incite workers all over the country! I’ll tell you ahead of time it’s no pleasure- but you must, you must!”
He interrupted himself, stopped, and grabbed his jacket lapel.
“Tell my doctor,” he cried. “Would you have left today if you were even halfway certain the possibility existed that you would have arrived in Germany?”
Frank Braun thought, “That’s almost exactly what I asked the Captain!”
The reporter didn’t let him answer, “There you have it! Now see this! You can accomplish more for Germany right here, ten times more, ten thousand times more, than if you were over there lying in some dirty hole! Isn’t it true, doctor, that you will try to be in Baltimore this Sunday for German day?”
He nodded, “Yes, yes-”
The journalist pulled out a notebook, “Your address please? And telephone number?”
He snapped the book shut and shoved it back into his pocket. Sounding very satisfied he said:
“Now that was exhausting. You will hear from me doctor. I will share all the important news with you. I will call you up tomorrow.”
He turned to go, turned back quickly, “I almost forgot. A lady is waiting for you, wants to speak with you. She is an old acquaintance.”
“Who is she?” He asked.
“It is Mrs. VanNess,” said the tall man. “Come on, come on!”
He grabbed his arm. Frank Braun pulled back.
“I don’t know her,” he said. “I’ve never heard of her!”
“But she knows you, doctor. Just come along!” Insisted the reporter. “She is the one that gave me the idea to recruit you for our cause! Come on, come on. I’m in a hurry. I need to write my report.”
He pulled him along. The lady stood there, slim, mid sized, in deep black. A long mourning veil fell over her face.
“Here he is,” said the tall Tewes and he introduced her. “This is Mrs. VanNess!”
Then he turned quickly, “And now if you will excuse me. I really have no more time.”
He sprang through the empty warehouse in long strides. The lady threw back her veil; reddish brown hair glowed over her green eyes.
“No, no,” He thought. “She shouldn’t be wearing black!”
Then he recognized her. She was Lotto Lewi from the zoo.
He said, “Mrs. Lotte -?”
She laughed, “Mrs.- always so formal, Mrs.?”
“Then Lotte,” he corrected. “Lotte, if you like. When was the last time we saw each other?”
“In Venice,” she said. “It was six years ago. I was walking in the marketplace when I met you again. You said:
‘Lotte Lewi, the Phoenician! Red haired, green eyed with thin black stripes all over. As thin as the Goddess Baaltis and you color your nails with henna. The maiden of desire, you know every sin and constantly lust for new ones. You belong at the zoo, best half breed- must wear belladonna in your hair.’
“You remember exactly what I said?” He asked.
She nodded lightly, “What you said and what I said- and what happened- We had one day and one night together.”
He asked quickly, “Are you in mourning?”
She laughed. She knew very well why he was trying to change the subject.
Quietly she said, “Why? Do you believe that I haven’t let you go?”
That raised his lips and freedom rang in his laugh, “You too? First that reporter cornered me. Do you think that anyone can just take me if and when they desire?”
She became serious. “Yes, I do believe it,” she said quietly. “Anyone can take you, anyone that wants to and tries. Once I thought you were not even a man, just a stringed instrument that somehow looked like a living person. Everything that wants you takes you and plays with you, people, things, and thoughts! You, Frank Braun, are always just the puppet in your tragicomedies!”
He scoffed, “And now you want to pull my strings again Lotte? You must know that I at least still have a will.”
“Which is?” She asked.
“To run away,” he came back at her.
Then she nodded, “Oh, yes. That is perhaps the best thing for you, for you and for everyone else. That’s how you stay so young!”
“Like you, Lotte!” He shot back.
She sighed, “You think so? I am thirty now. Nevertheless, I know that I have never looked better. When I was fifteen, when you seduced me, or no, when I forced you to seduce me, I was not this beautiful. When I took you again at nineteen and even the last time in Venice I was not this beautiful. I know. I am more beautiful now because-”
He interrupted her, “Our love affair is old, Lotte.”
She looked at him quietly, “You mean our friendship! Old enough- sixteen years now! But our love affair? Let me count- An afternoon in Berlin, later, five days on our Easter vacation, and then in Venice, one day and one night- Eight days then, if you round it off.”
She didn’t look away, but he didn’t reply. His eyes wandered through the wide warehouse.
She sighed lightly, “We are the last ones here, let’s go.”
They went a few steps quietly walking near each other. Then she began again.
“Didn’t you ask why I was in mourning?”
“Yes,” he said. “Is your father dead? Or your mother?”
“Father died three years ago, ” she replied. “A stroke. The Privy Councillor had a beautiful burial, full of pomp and very Christian, just what mother wanted. Then she left Berlin, Now she’s living in Thuringia with her father, the old Baron Kubeck.”
“You’re still mourning after three years?” He asked.
She said, “According to father’s will I married an American shortly before his death- in Baumwolle- He was a business friend of fathers, even richer than father was. He died- It’s been six weeks now.”
“I’m, I’m sor-” He tried but couldn’t say it.
It’s all right my friend,” she nodded and they went a few more steps in silence.
“That time,” he began. “You said you were engaged to some Baron. That time in Venice. Wasn’t that right?”
A small flicker of joy swept over her face, “Oh, you remembered! Yes, mother was in favor of it but father was very against it. I believe at the end he would have been more sympathetic if I had married you!”
“And you?” He asked.
“Me?” She laughed. “Me as well, you already know that. But you were gone the next day! And at that time I was still a little proud- or stupid, take it anyway you want. Instead of seeking you out- I screamed just like the other times. Then the Yankee came- Father pressed me, just like mother with her handsome Baron! This one or that one. It didn’t matter to me. I depended on Papa’s money so I became Mrs. Van Ness.”
She stepped out of the warehouse, raised her umbrella, waved to her chauffeur. The auto pulled forward. He opened the door for her.
“Goodbye,” he said.
She laughed lightly, “No,” she cried. “No, not this time! Climb in!”
He hesitated.
She raised her voice, “Climb in,” she commanded.
“Lotte,” he said and his words rang out very weakly. “Lotte, haven’t the two of us fought enough?”
And she answered, “And weren’t you always the winner? It’s true! But today I know you Frank Braun, know you better than you know me, better than you know yourself!”
“And today you think you can win. Is that it, Lotte?” He asked.
“Today-yes,” she said firmly. “Right now in this hour! Where will you go? What will you do? I will be at your apartment tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. You will give in sometime, you know you will!”
He bit his lip.
“Tell me I’m right!” She cried.
“Perhaps,” he gulped.
“You will,” she said. “And because you feel that way- that’s why I’m stronger than you. Now! Climb in!”
He climbed into the auto and she followed. She sat next to him and shut the door. Then she lowered her veil.
“Back home,” she commanded.
