Inherit the Past

by Susan Finlay

  Max put his arm around her shoulder and took hold of Tobias’s hand.

  Ryan snickered. “Maybe we could knock on someone’s door and pretend we’re distant cousins of theirs. I saw that in a movie once.”

  Tobias giggled. “Hey, good idea. We could go to our house. They might really be relatives, right?”

  Sofie shook her head. “I think we’ll try another street.” A short time later, she stopped at another basement entrance and said to Max, “Will you help me with this trapdoor?”

  “Sure. This one looks more like a tornado shelter. They have a lot of them in Kansas and Oklahoma. Do you think it’s a warehouse?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s quite possible.”

  “Ryan, please give me a hand with this.” Max and Ryan reached down together, grabbed hold of one of the metal doors, lifted it up, and leaned it against the side wall. They did the same with the other door. For a moment Sofie stared at the set of stairs disappearing downwards into darkness, then took a deep breath, preparing her nostrils for the worst, and eased herself down the steps. At the bottom she entered directly into a dark room cluttered with crates, but spied no interior doors.

  She retraced her steps back up to the top of the stairs. “It seems empty. It’s too dark down there to tell for sure. The other shelters were lit up with candles. This one isn’t. That’s a good sign.”

  “Okay, then. Sounds like we have a home for the night. Ryan, come with me. The rest of you wait here. We’ll be right back.”

  Sofie felt a wave of panic as he disappeared down the street. Another crack of thunder hit, followed by a lightning bolt, and then big drops of rain plopped on her head and cheeks.

  Several minutes later, she saw strange lights wobbling back and forth headed straight for them. She grabbed Tobias and pulled him with her down the stairs. Lotte followed them.

  “Mom, what’s going on?”

  Before she could answer, the light appeared overhead and Sofie thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest.

  “It’s just us,” Max said, between loud breaths.

  “Oh, thank goodness! You scared us half to death,” Sofie said.

  He and Ryan hobbled down the steps. “Sorry. We needed some light. I suddenly remembered my pocketknife and thought about the oil lamps hanging from ropes across the streets.”

  “You stole street lamps?” Tobias asked.

  “Desperate times and all that,” Max said, holding up a lamp with one hand and grinning sheepishly. Ryan held another lamp.

  “Oh my God,” Sofie said. “I’m shocked, but happy. Shall we have a look around?”

  Max held the lamp out in front of him as they proceeded down the stairs and into a two-car-garage-sized room. Sofie followed with Ryan, Tobias, and Lotte bringing up the rear.

  With stacks of crates and barrels filling the room, Sofie could understand why no one was living here. The walls and ceiling were all brick, and in some places the ceiling arched. The floor appeared to be limestone. Towards the far back corner was a convenient empty space for the five of them to sleep.

  “Looks like we’re in luck,” Max said. “What do you think?”

  Sofie nodded. “Too bad we don’t have fresh straw.” When she looked toward Max and saw his eyes light up, she added, “No you don’t. You took a big enough risk already when you stole that lamp.”

  “Okay, okay. Man, these floors are going to be hard to sleep on, though. I guess I better go shut the trapdoor, don’t you agree?”

  Reluctantly, Sofie nodded, suddenly feeling a vague sense of claustrophobia. What if they got locked inside? That happened to her once when she was seven years old. She was locked in the cellar of Lotte’s house one summer when she’d stayed with her while her grandfather was away on business. She’d cried herself to sleep.

  She shuddered and pushed the memory away.

  A short time later, as they lay in the eerie light, Max propped himself on one elbow and said, “You know, this was a really difficult day, but it wasn’t altogether terrible.”

  Sofie whispered, “Really? It seemed pretty awful to me. But I guess I know what you mean. Parts were terrible and parts were positive. Those people we saw in the basements were really awful. But we think your grandfather may be here and can help us, and we think we know how to find him. That certainly seems positive. And here we are out of the rain, getting some rest. Life’s funny in a way, though. Two days ago I would never have imagined myself sleeping on a cellar floor with a man I barely know.”

  Max chuckled softly. “If you move closer, you can rest your head on my arm. It’s not much of a pillow, but it might help.”

  “Thanks.” Sofie moved closer, careful not to wake Tobias who was sound asleep and snoring softly on the other side of her. She envied Tobias at the moment. He seemed to be able to sleep anywhere. She laid her head on Max’s arm, with her back to him, and Max draped his free arm over her.

  “This is nice,” he whispered.

  Someone made a snort sound. Sofie wasn’t sure if it was Ryan or Tante Lotte.

  Max said, “Why did you leave the U.S. and come back to Germany? Were you homesick?”

  Sofie sighed. “It’s a very long story. Maybe I’ll tell you some time.”

  “Okay. When you’re ready.” After several minutes of silence, Max asked, “Why does your great-aunt live with you? Doesn’t she have children, grandchildren?”

  “She has a son somewhere.”

  “Huh? Doesn’t she know where he is?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He’s always been a loner. Left home without finishing school, and wandered in an out of her life for ten years. Then he stopped coming around. It makes her sad to talk about him.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “We don’t really know. She keeps hoping he’ll return someday with a wife, children, and grandchildren at his side.”

  “Wow. Poor woman. I hope he does. Sad.” He wrapped his arms around her, and eventually Sofie drifted off to sleep.

  SOFIE AWOKE TO the sound of the trapdoors being yanked open. A slim stream of light peeked around the crates and barrels. The oil lamps had died out.

  She silently nudged Max, Tobias, and Lotte.

  “What’s going on?” Ryan mumbled.

  Sofie whispered, “Shh. Someone’s here.”

  All five of them scrambled to hide behind barrels. Sofie’s heart pounded as she listened to footsteps on the limestone floor. Grating sounds, followed by groaning and more footsteps brought forth an image of men dragging barrels or crates across the floor.

  Someone shouted something she couldn’t understand, and then two heavy sets of footsteps pounded nearby. Although the cellar was cold and damp, beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. The men were getting closer. More grating and grunting sounds. What would the men do to them if they found them hiding? Her heart raced and her impulse was to run, but she forced herself to stay frozen.

  The footsteps lessened, then stopped and soon the trapdoors slammed shut.

  “Are they gone?” Tobias whispered.

  Silence. Then the faint sound of mice scurrying in the darkness.

  Finally, Sofie said, “I think so. We should sneak out of here before they return.”

  They stood up, but getting to the door proved difficult in the pitch blackness. Sofie walked straight into a barrel, knocking it over and barely missing her feet. By the time they found the steps and crept up them, Sofie vowed she wouldn’t sleep again in a cellar.

  Sofie and Ryan were the first out and thankfully found the area deserted. Once they were all outside, they promptly reclosed the doors, left the area, and set about looking for the clock shop. Now that they’d walked around the town a lot the day before, they were becoming familiar with some of the buildings and shops.

  “I’m sure we’ve already looked in this area,” Max said. “Why don’t we try down that way?”

  Sofie looked in the direction he was pointing and nodded. As they walked down the more residential lookin
g street, she glanced at one side of the street and then the other. Finally, she saw a weathered sign adorned with a hand painted cuckoo clock in front of one of the houses. Apparently Max saw it too, because he yelled out, “Thank God.”

  They rushed toward the house and stopped abruptly in front of the door. Sofie wasn’t sure about the others, but she was holding her breath, afraid to go inside for fear they would be disappointed again. She wanted to hold onto hope as long as possible. Bracing herself, she reached out and pulled the door open. Please let this be Karl’s home.

  She entered into a smallish shop space, with Max, Ryan, Tobias, and Lotte following her. Simple furnishings adorned the front room; three high-backed chairs, a small table, and two shelves. Near the door, a sturdy wooden counter greeted customers, and behind it, half a dozen magnificent cuckoo clocks made of beautiful dark wood intricately carved with folk and forest scenes hung on the wall. A vision of the cuckoo clock that had hung in her house sprang to mind. She held back tears, remembering that the antique gift from her grandfather had clanged at the precise moment she’d received word that his airplane was missing.

  Each clock here was different from the others except that they all had similar face shields—full front plates enameled with the face near the center and a closed door—driven by suspended weights beneath, shaped like pine cones. What struck her odd was that in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, cuckoo clocks had been made and sold only in the Black Forest region. They should not be made here in Riesen. Did that mean Max’s grandfather from the future was the clockmaker and was using his knowledge to his own advantage?

  The clockmaker wasn’t in sight. Sofie turned and looked at Max who raised his hands and shrugged. After several minutes, a side door opened and a plump woman in her late sixties or early seventies came through from another room. She looked surprised to see customers.

  Before the woman closed the door behind her, Sofie caught a glimpse of the other room. It looked like a clockmaker’s workshop, cluttered with assorted pieces of hardwood, pipes, lead pine cone weights, pendulums of various sizes, and a dozen or more clocks in various stages of production. Most of the tools, at quick glance, she couldn’t identify.

  Although the woman wore a dark-gray bonnet, Sofie could see some white strands of hair peeking out. She wore a slate gray skirt with a white apron, white line shirt, and gray bodice. “We are closed today,” she said in German. “Come back tomorrow.”

  “Wait. Please. We need to see the clockmaker as soon as possible. We need to ask him some questions.”

  She furrowed her brow.

  “We are not from around here,” Sofie added. “We are traveling and we have no place to stay while we wait for him to return.”

  “I cannot help you.” She practically shoved them out the door.

  Outside, Max’s face looked crumpled and tired, and worry lines covered his forehead. Apparently he’d understood enough that Sofie didn’t need to translate. She couldn’t think of anything to say that would console him.

  After a few moments, Sofie set her chin, turned on her heels and marched back up to the front door. She turned the door handle. It was now locked. Knocking loudly on the door, she said, “Please won’t you let us inside? We’re looking for Herr Karl Kimmel. At least tell us if he’s the clockmaker? It’s very important. We think he’s my husband’s grandfather.”

  The woman cracked the door and craned her neck, looking left and right, before settling her gaze on Max. Something flickered in her eyes. Had she seen a resemblance to the clockmaker? She silently motioned for them to come back inside and locked the door behind them. She led them through the work room and into a dark corridor with a door at the end. She hesitated at the closed door, looked over her shoulder at Max, then opened the door and led them up a twisting wooden staircase. At the top of the stairs, she opened another door leading straight into what appeared to be a living room. Nearby was a kitchen and another set of wooden stairs, which Sofie guessed led up to sleeping quarters.

  The woman motioned them toward the kitchen and offered them ale and biscuits.

  “Oh, thank you,” Sofie said. She introduced herself and the others.

  The woman finally introduced herself as Birgitta Kimmel while she gathered pewter plates and utensils from the ambry in the corner of the room.

  While they ate, no one spoke. Many questions were on the tip of Sofie’s tongue, but she knew she needed to proceed cautiously. The woman watched each of them, clearly wondering about them, too, but not asking any questions, either.

  Sofie leaned toward Max and said, “She may know about your grandfather’s earlier life. She seems to be watching us intensely, perhaps trying to figure out whether to trust us.”

  Max said, “I’ve been wondering the same thing. If she knows, she can’t say anything until she’s sure of us. On the other hand, we can’t say anything until we’re sure of her.”

  The woman suddenly gave them a sweet smile.

  Sofie took a deep breath, let it out, and asked, “Are you related to Karl?”

  “Ja, I am his wife.”

  Max choked on his ale, coughed, then turned bright red.

  “Are you all right?” Sofie asked. He nodded. “I take it you understood what she said.”

  “Yeah. I know enough German to get that,” Max said. “Ask her if she’s heard about me?

  When Sofie asked, Birgitta’s face flushed and she nodded.

  Max’s face became animated and he quickly said, “Does she know my mother?”

  Sofie carefully asked the questions, and then translated Birgitta’s answers for Max. “Karl hasn’t seen Monika for many years, since long before their wedding. She never met his Monika.”

  Max slowly let his breath out. “Oh, my God. This means he really is Gramps. Does she know where she my mother is?”

  Sofie asked, but Birgitta said no.

  “At least we know she’s here, somewhere,” Max said. “Maybe with their help, we can find her, too.”

  Tobias got up and walked over to Max. “I hope we can find your mom. It must be horrible having her disappear and not know what happened. Finding her would make everything we’re going through here worthwhile.”

  Max reached out, pulling Tobias close, and rubbed his curly hair. “Thank you, Tobias. That means a lot to me.”

  Ryan glared at Max, and Sofie said, “I’m sure Ryan is looking forward to meeting his great-grandfather, aren’t you?”

  Ryan just shrugged.

  After they finished eating, Sofie and Lotte helped Birgitta clear away the dishes. While they did so, Birgitta looked sideways at Sofie and asked, “Are you from ‘here’?”

  Sofie hesitated. She considered the slight emphasis Birgitta had placed on the word here, especially when they’d already told her they were traveling. Finally, she said, “We are all from the same place that Karl and Monika came from.”

  Birgitta smiled, her demeanor suddenly less guarded, and she began chatting more freely. She told Sofie what a lovely family she had. She said that Tobias was the most handsome lad she’d ever seen, and that he was such an angel. Ryan was handsome, too, and a fine strapping lad. Their great-grandfather would be delighted to meet them both.

  Sofie smiled and nodded politely. Should she explain that Tobias wasn’t Karl’s great-grandson? She had already lied to Birgitta earlier, saying that Max was her husband. Sooner or later she would find out the truth. Sofie glanced at Max. He was grinning and relaxing in a chair. No, she would wait until Karl arrived. Let Birgitta believe the story for now.

  “It must have been terrifying for your boys, traveling all this way, not knowing what had happened, and worrying they would not find their family,” Birgitta said.

  “It was scary,” Sofie said. “We have all had a difficult time.” She was proud of her son, the way he’d kept up with their rigorous pace without complaining these past few days. Ryan had been a good sport, too, but she wondered what was going on inside his head. He was mostly silent, sullen, and
when he did speak, it was usually with something negative or off the wall. She wondered what had happened in Ryan’s life to make him this way.

  Birgitta invited them to spend the night. “Karl will hopefully return by morning. He and my granddaughter took some of his clocks to neighboring towns to sell them. Our shop is small, you see. We make enough money to get by, but not enough to hire a clock peddler. Anneliese is his unofficial apprentice. Girls are not allowed in the artisan guild, but Karl says he will do as he pleases.” She smiled and shook her head.

  Sofie gratefully accepted the invitation on behalf of all of them. “Is there anything we can do to help around here while we wait?”

  Birgitta promptly set them to work on small tasks, keeping them busy until nightfall. While they worked on those tasks, she set up comfortable pallets of quilts on the living room floor for them. They fell asleep quickly because the pallets were heavenly compared to what they’d slept on the night before.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KARL HELPED ANNELIESE onto his wagon after they had stopped for a short break, then he climbed up onto the bench seat next to her. He scratched his bushy beard, sighed, then took the reins in hand and started the wagon moving along the bumpy road back towards Riesen. Five days of traveling in the countryside, peddling his clocks at some of the large estates, left him with three cuckoo clocks unsold and coin in pocket from the four clocks sold. Not his most profitable excursion, but not too bad, either. Birgitta would be pleased—probably. He could not always guess right. One thing he knew for sure, though, was she would be happy to see them back home. She always worried over their well-being, especially for Anneliese, whenever they were away on these trips.

  Wherever they went, people raised their eyebrows when they found out he had a female apprentice—it was virtually unheard of. And yet the men to whom he was trying to sell his clocks weren’t impervious to Anneliese’s charms. Karl had taken her onboard as apprentice partially for that reason, but mainly because she was his wife’s granddaughter and had shown an interest and keen knack for clock making. He didn’t care about social conventions—never had—so if the people who wanted him kicked out of the artisans’ guild got their way, so be it. At eighty years old he was ready to retire anyway.