by Strauss, Lee
Katja nodded adamantly. There was no way she was shipping Micah off to spend the day alone with Market-Happy Anna. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
She dragged Micah away with the guise of having to find something to drink. They bought bottled water and Katja took a long swig.
“Is everything all right?” Micah asked.
She couldn’t admit to having a jealous bout. “I’m just nervous. I should probably get backstage soon.”
“Okay. I’m going to find a spot up front and center. If you get too nervous, just look at me.”
Katja smiled and gave him a hug. She was grateful for his offer, but he was the one who was making her nervous.
She went backstage as instructed, tuned her guitar and double-checked her strap. She hummed to warm up her voice.
She heard the emcee introduce her. “I’m pleased to introduce one of Dresden’s own, Katja Stoltz!”
The crowd responded with polite applause. She wasn’t a headliner and only had a three song slot, but she was there to show everyone what she was made of and get her name out there. Eventually, she’d be invited to bigger stages and given longer slots and better pay. At least that was the plan.
“Hi everyone,” she began. “Thank you for having me.”
Katja began with the two original songs she knew well, Think Back and Sun & Moon. The first spoke to her about why it was a good idea for her to go home, and not only so she could keep Anna away from Micah. The second song reminded her of how far she and Micah had come. In life and in their relationship.
She watched him like he’d asked her to. He smiled like the proud boyfriend he was and clapped louder than anyone between songs.
“Thank you,” she said at the end. “The last song I’m going to perform for you is brand new. I hope you like it.”
She began the song she had started for Micah a few nights ago. Their eyes connected and her stomach swirled with nerves. She had to pull her gaze away and focus if she wanted to get through this song successfully. She closed her eyes.
It’s all in how you look at it,
she said
As if there were a hundred ways to walk a high wire
Go on and try to let it go
Close your eyes and
Let your heart rule your head sometimes
Some folks dig for gold and only scratch the surface
You saw something more and it’s making you nervous
How deep can you feel?
Could you really let this get to you?
How far can this all go?
Could you really change your point of view?
Let the best of you become undone
Look past your logic and all that other noise
You’re always looking
For the answers,
she said
But sometimes it’s all about the questioning
You never seem to let it show
But that’s all right
Cause I know your heart is a deep, deep well
Some folks dig for gold
And only scratch the surface
Sometimes a mystery can have another purpose
The crowd applauded boisterously and enthusiastically just like she’d hoped. The stage manager gave her a high five.
“You killed it, girl!”
Micah was waiting for her when she came off the stage.
“That’s a pretty intense song,” he said, standing inches away, face to face. “Was it about you or about me?”
“Both, I think.”
He cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I think I have a celebrity crush. You were amazing.”
Katja’s heart danced. Micah’s praise meant the world to her. “Thank you.”
He kissed her before she could say anything more, and she didn’t complain.
Traffic moved briskly along the autobahn as they traveled north in the direction of Berlin. It was early in the morning, the sky an ethereal mix of cobalt blue and burnt umber. Katja’s gaze moved from the painted canvas of the skyline to Micah’s profile. His left hand rested on the Audi’s steering wheel while his right hand wrapped lazily around the stick shift. He focused on expertly maneuvering into the fast lane, confirming to Katja that they’d make it there in good time.
The prospect of seeing her family again caused her stomach to twirl, and she worked to push those thoughts aside. Instead, she inwardly sketched the lines of Micah’s face on an imaginary canvas. He was the perfect subject, and she itched to get what she envisioned in her head on paper.
His eyes cut to hers. “You’re staring at me.”
“An astute observation.”
“It’s not fair. Maybe you should drive next time, so I can stare at you.”
Katja smiled. “No chance.”
Not long afterward, Micah pulled into a rest stop. Katja dug through her purse looking for the fifty cents she needed to use the facilities. Then she remembered. She’d thrown all her tip money into the fruit bowl yesterday.
Micah grinned and removed a fist from his front pocket producing a handful of coins. “Allow me.”
Katja sheepishly plucked out the needed coinage and dropped them into the slot that moved the gate allowing her entrance. After using the toilet, she washed her hands in the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t seen her family in nearly six months. Had she changed much? Yes, she had. Her hair was a few inches longer, but that wasn’t the marked difference. No, it was her face. It was leaner, her cheekbones sharper, her eyes wider, less naive.
She was older and wiser, but still frightened. The younger version of herself was curled up inside, shackled with insecurities and vulnerabilities resulting from unpredictable, shifting boundaries. Home wasn’t a place to gain support and good advice. She could never find her footing there. It was like walking on the rain-soaked deck of a swaying boat in a storm.
She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. Why had she let Micah talk her into this?
No, he hadn’t. It was her decision. She was stronger now. She could do this.
She dried her hands and took a few moments to reapply her mascara and lip gloss. When she re-entered the store, Micah had just finished purchasing a package of gummy candies.
“Want some?”
It was pretty early for candy, but Katja felt like she’d been up for half a day already. She opened her palm and he shook the bag until several fell in. “Thanks,” she said, tossing one into her mouth.
They hit rush hour traffic when they entered the outskirts of the city.
“It’s a good thing we left early,” Micah said, tapping his fingers on the wheel.
The plan was to park the car in underground parking in the middle of Berlin near where Micah’s meeting was taking place. He’d suggested that she go visit her family while he was there, but she didn’t want to go alone. In the end, he agreed that she could wander the city until his meeting ended and they could go to see her family together.
Micah removed his briefcase and suit jacket from the back seat, slipping the latter item on. His white shirt fell untucked over jeans, and he nailed the preppy, urban, young business man look.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked again.
“Yes. This is my town.” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m looking forward to meandering the streets again.”
“Make sure you eat something,” he said. “They’ll be feeding us, so I’ll be fine.” He pulled fifty euro from his pocket and slipped it into her hand.
“I have a job, you know,” she said, staring at the bill. She stretched her arm to give it back.
“I know. I’d just feel better if you took it. Do it for me.”
She shrugged and slipped the money in her pocket. She wouldn’t spend it. It would find its way into the fruit bowl later that night. But it did make her feel good that Micah desired to take care of her.
Katja kissed Micah longingly, wanting it to be memorable enough to last through whatever close encounters he might have with Anna. Sh
e ran her tongue along his lips, nibbling the bottom one as she pulled away. By the smile and glint she saw in his eye, she thought she succeeded.
“See you in four hours,” he said, walking backward to the glass doors of the banking institution.
Katja felt bereft for a moment, but then shifted her backpack and straightened her stance. She took in her surroundings and started walking. She was on the eastern side of Brandenburg Gate. It was a huge stone monument comprised of six deep pillars creating five archways and was topped with a greening bronze statue of four racing horses pulling a chariot with a lone rider. The gate had signified communistic rule for forty years and now freedom that came with the subsequent democracy. Crowds milled about, tourists mostly, taking pictures and lining up to hop on the tour buses.
She hadn’t been born yet when the wall came down, but change came slowly, and growing up in eastern Berlin was very much an Eastern-Bloc experience for her. She lived in a concrete block apartment in the lower-income part of the city that had been built during the GDR times. It was the same one her family still resided in, with only two bedrooms, a small kitchen and living area. The grounds were left in their natural state, with landscaping reserved for parks, tourist destinations and higher-income dwellings.
She’d learned a lot about the value of freedom. Her mother used to tell her there was nothing more important than that. Her grandparents had all passed away before the wall fell, and had never experienced what it was like to pass through the Brandenburg Gate to the western side since it had been barricaded by the Berlin Wall.
Katja was fortunate to be born in a time when physical freedom had been granted to Europeans, but that didn’t mean she was completely free. There were bondages known to the human psyche that didn’t involve physical chains or armed border patrols.
She walked through the massive columns to the west side until she was in the Tiergarten, a green space that claimed several city blocks, and settled on an unoccupied park bench. She removed her notepads from her pack. Was she in the mood to write or draw?
Neither was calling to her at the moment. She gazed ahead blankly as a childhood memory crystallized. Her father and mother had brought her here once, when she was three or four years old. There was a fair of some kind set up in the park, and her parents had taken her on a ride. It was a bland one, where they sat in a small chair and spun in lazy circles. But she remembered being thrilled, her mother on one side and her father on the other, both of them squishing her in the middle. She laughed out loud, not truly understanding the source of her joy. She’d thought it was the ride. She now knew it was because they were together, a family.
Melancholy dripped on her like dew. A sadness for what could’ve been. Grief for what was lost when her father left them.
She’d never known why. Against her mother’s wishes he’d taken a job fishing in the northern sea. They hadn’t seen him since. Why hadn’t he tried to contact her? Why did he stop loving her?
Katja put her notebooks into her bag. She headed back to the eastern side where most of the shopping was. She walked up and down Unter Den Linden, browsing the gift shops and bookstores. She stopped at a donair place and bought a gyros sandwich for two euro. She wondered mildly what exactly Micah thought she would eat for lunch that she’d need fifty euro. Steak and lobster?
A quick check of the time on her phone told her she had only twenty-five minutes left to wait. The time had gone by quickly. She slowly worked her way back to the bank to meet up with Micah.
He was huddled on the front steps with Thomas and Anna when she arrived. Katja plastered on a smile and shimmied up behind him.
“Oh, hi,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug. He wasn’t shy to show his affection in front of his friends, and Katja shook off her feelings of inadequatcy. Micah liked her. Micah was into her.
She even flashed a genuine smile Anna’s way. Anna blinked and then returned it. Katja tugged on Micah’s hand. “Time to go?”
They said goodbye and walked around the corner to the car. “How was your meeting?” Katja asked.
“Oh, you know. Boring.”
“Boring? I thought you loved all that markets and money talk.”
He shrugged. “It’s interesting enough, but it’s just a job.”
Micah started the car and stopped to stare at her before driving out. “You’re ready for this?”
No. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Katja gave Micah directions to the dense, multi-family residence where her family lived. She completely regretted bringing Micah when they pulled to a stop in front of the colorless building. Weeds grew out of the sidewalk cracks and took over whatever yard existed between the building and the road. There’d been some effort to paint the exterior over the years, but wind and rain had worn it away in spots, and it peeled away from the cracking plaster. Laundry hung over balconies, and several people leaned over the rails smoking cigarettes and blatantly stared at them. The Audi didn’t belong in this neighborhood. Neither did Micah Sturm.
“It’s not too late to turn around,” Katja whimpered.
Micah squeezed her hand. “We’re here now. You can do it.”
She inhaled deeply and opened the door. It felt so strange to be back, even though she’d walked down this path to the front door of her building a million times. She hesitated at the door, before inserting her key.
She led Micah up the dimly lit stairwell to the second floor. The air inside was a stale mix of cigarette smoke and the odor of the six families who shared the floor: dirty laundry and last night’s dinner.
She paused in the hallway outside of their door. “This is it.”
“Are you going to knock?” he asked.
“I guess so. I mean, I’ve never knocked before, but I’d never been away so long before either.”
“Then knock.”
“They might not be home.”
“You won’t find out if you don’t knock.”
She puffed, hating that he was so pragmatic, and tapped on the door. The rumble of the neighbor’s TV bled through into the hall from the opposite side, so Katja couldn’t hear if there was movement in her flat.
“I don’t think anyone’s here,” she said just moments before the door inched open. A set of wide, blue eyes stared at her. “Katja?”
“Hi, Sibylle.”
Her younger sister opened the door, and Katja spread her arms, inviting her in for an embrace. Sibylle hesitated, then stepped forward, but her thin arms didn’t reciprocate.
“How are you?”
Sibylle’s mouth remained pulled down in a frown. “Okay.”
“You’ve grown.” Her sister was almost twelve and had started filling out. Katja smiled to hide her concern. Sibylle was at the age she was when Horst started acting inappropriately with her.
“Who’s that?” Sibylle asked.
Katja turned to Micah, whose eyes had moved from her sister to the space beyond. The place was filthy. Dirty dishes filled the limited counter space, and the living area was unkempt with abandoned food containers and dirty clothes lying about. Again Katja wished she’d come alone.
“This is my friend Micah.”
“Hello,” Micah said gently.
Sibylle glanced away shyly. “Hi.”
Katja looked beyond her sister for signs that anyone else was there with her. “Is Mama home?”
“She’s in her room.”
Katja swallowed but kept her voice even. “What about your dad?”
Sibylle shrugged. “I don’t know where he is. I’ll get Mama.”
A burning sensation built up behind Katja’s eyes. She hated seeing her sister so despondent. Like a miniature version of her mother. She smiled weakly over her shoulder at Micah. He gave her a slight nod.
An impossibly thin woman with greasy hair and ragged clothes padded into the room. “Katja?” she said faintly. “Is that you?”
Katja nodded. “Yes, Mama.”
The woman covered her mouth wi
th a bony hand, and her shoulders began to shake. “You look good,” she managed to say through a soft sob. “I was so worried.”
“Oh, Mama.” Katja almost ran to her mother and pulled her into a hug. “I’m fine. I’m doing great. I met someone wonderful.” She waved Micah over. “This is my friend Micah. Micah, my mother, Frau Bergmann.”
Katja’s mother wiped her eyes, then held out her hand. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”
“It’s been my pleasure.”
“And please, call me Gisela.”
“Sibylle,” Gisela said, “Put a pot on for tea.”
Katja’s sister ran water into the pot and turned on the old stove. Gisela made an effort to clean a space at the table. “I’m sorry it’s so messy. If I knew you were coming…”
“It’s fine, Mama.”
Katja and Micah sat awkwardly at the table while her sister and mother made tea and served it to them in old but clean teacups.
“We’re out of milk and sugar,” Gisela said.
“Black is fine,” Micah said, thanking her.
Gisela lowered herself into the chair adjacent to Katja’s. “Tell us all about your adventures.”
Katja’s eyes cut to Micah, and he encouraged her with a tip of his chin. She told them about her gigs, and her job at the coffee shop. “It’s not super exciting, but it’s good.”
Gisela motioned to Micah. “How did you meet this fine young man?”
The way they met will forever be a point of embarrassment. Katja wondered if other couples had to lie about their first encounters. Micah came to her rescue. “We met outside a restaurant in Dresden. I thought she was someone else at first, but I’m glad for the mistake now; otherwise, we wouldn’t have had a reason to talk.”
It was a cleaned-up version, but it wasn’t untrue.
“Lovely,” her mother said.
Sibylle disappeared into the living area, where she turned on the TV. Katja sipped her tea, working up the courage to ask her mother the question that had forever been burning on her heart. “Mama, I was wondering… Why did Dad leave?”
“He’ll be back soon. He’s just dating Jack Daniels.” It was meant to be a joke, but she didn’t smile.
