Inherit the Past

by Susan Finlay

  Anneliese saw him looking at her. “You will not tell Grandma that Papa is angry with me, will you?” Anneliese said, shame and anxiety apparent.

  “Of course not. She need not know.”

  The day before yesterday, on their way home, they had stopped at Anneliese’s family’s farm to let the girl visit her parents and siblings. This afternoon, a former beau of Anneliese, having heard from a farmhand that she was there, had shown up and her father had caught them together in a dishonorable position. He had beaten the boy and sent him running, then took a few punches at Anneliese. Karl had heard the commotion and come running, quickly intervened, and then they had left immediately afterwards. Her father, Johan, had yelled after them that Anneliese was a whore. Birgitta would also not approve of her granddaughter’s ill-considered behavior, and Karl did not want to risk her sending the girl away. No good would come of it. Best not to say anything. The girl could not help it that males were attracted to her. She had a natural beauty—perfect skin, shapely figure, soft golden-brown eyes, and long naturally silky hair that matched her eyes. Someday, if luck graced her, she might entice herself a rich husband. Johan would not complain about that. Neither would Birgitta, Karl was certain.

  “Grandpa, thank you. I am sorry. I was stupid.” Karl saw his granddaughter’s shoulders slump in relief. “And thank you for teaching me. You do know that I love working on the clocks with you, ja?”

  He nodded.

  “I want to learn everything I can.”

  “You are doing a good job, Anneliese. I have no complaints.”

  MAX AWOKE ABRUPTLY with a start after the weirdest dream he’d ever had. He rubbed his eyes and aching shoulder and tried to make out his surroundings. The darkness made it almost impossible. Hearing quiet voices and someone snoring nearby, he propped himself up on one elbow and craned his head to try to make out what the voices were saying.

  Oh, good God! It wasn’t a dream. Birgitta was sitting at the kitchen table, her face faintly illuminated by two small candles.

  Memories of the last two days came flooding back to him: the time traveling, stealing clothes and shoes, sleeping in the woods, checking the stables and tavern to find his grandfather and mother.

  Who was Birgitta talking to? Heart suddenly racing, Max struggled to see the other person, the shadowy figure at the other end of the table. A soldier or policeman? Please don’t let it be someone coming to arrest us for stealing. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Gramps.

  Max scrambled to stand up and almost tripped over Sofie who was sleeping next to him on the floor in the living room.

  “What?” Sofie asked. She sounded groggy.

  He bent down and whispered, “Sorry, Sofie. I didn’t mean to wake you. Gramps is here.”

  She opened her eyes wide and sat up. “Who? What time is it?”

  “Beats me. It’s still dark outside from what I can tell.” Remembering her other question, he whispered, “My grandfather. He’s here.”

  “Should we get up?” She rubbed her eyes and blinked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to intrude on them, but I’m dying to talk to him.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”

  Max gave her a goofy grin. “Well, I did have a weird dream—and then I woke up and found out we really did time travel, unless I’m still dreaming. Maybe you should pinch me.”

  Sofie smiled.

  Tobias was still asleep, curled in a cat-like ball a few feet away. It was Ryan and Lotte both that were snoring.

  “You’re sure it’s your grandfather?”

  He nodded, then helped her up. They tiptoed toward the kitchen. Even in the poor lighting, Max recognized his grandfather’s face; more wrinkles, more facial hair, but the same wide nose, blue eyes, and bushy eyebrows he remembered from his grandfather’s visits to the U.S.

  Birgitta stopped talking. She’d seen them.

  Karl turned his head, and his mouth dropped open, but he didn’t speak. Max held his breath, waiting for a reaction because the old man appeared to be studying Max’s face as if to find in the man before him the little boy he’d known. Suddenly, Karl’s face softened and a warm smile splayed across his lips. Max let out his breath. The old man had recognized him and rose from his chair. Max rushed forward, and they embraced in a bear hug before pulling apart, both laughing.

  Once they quieted, Karl turned his attention to Sofie. He looked back at Max, and asked, “Sprechen sie Deutsch?

  “Ein bißchen. But I’m sure your English is better than my Deutsch.”

  “Mein Englisch ist nicht sehr gut,” Karl said. “But ich vill try. Ich habe nicht use for it here,” he added with a sweeping gesture.

  “You’re doing fine, Gramps. With some practice, it’ll come back to you.” He pulled Sofie forward, and added, “This is Sofie, Gramps. She speaks German. She can help if needed.”

  “She is your Frau? This pretty mädchen.”

  Max smiled. “Sofie is very pretty, yes, but unfortunately not my wife.”

  Karl looked disappointed. “Birgitta thought you kommst mit familie.” Karl was silent for a moment and was clearly looking at something behind Max. “Boys are your sons?”

  Max turned his head to see what he was looking at. Tobias and Ryan were standing in the doorway, with Lotte behind them, half hiding. Max ran his hand through his sleep-tousled hair and said, “Uh, well, uh . . . we’re pretending to be a family.”

  “Is he your grandfather?” Tobias asked.

  “Ja,” Karl said, answering for Max.

  Max looked down at his own feet for a moment, then looked into Karl’s eyes. “The younger boy, Tobias, is Sofie’s son. The older boy, Ryan, is mine. My daughter, Lisa, didn’t come with us.”

  Birgitta got up, huffed, walked over to the cupboards, and took something out. Max couldn’t see what it was. When she returned to the table, she lit three more candles with the flames from one of the already lit candles and then sat back down.

  Karl nodded. “What happened to your wife? Did she die?”

  “No. We tried to stay together but, well, the marriage wasn’t working anymore. We’re divorced.”

  “And she?” Karl asked, nodding toward Sofie.

  Max looked at Sofie for help.

  “She’s my dad’s girlfriend,” Ryan said. “He didn’t waste any time hooking up.”

  Sofie’s face blanched, and Tobias stared at Ryan with his mouth gaping open.

  Max bit his tongue to keep from yelling at Ryan. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene in front of his grandfather. He would deal with Ryan later. “Sofie is not my girlfriend and we’re not hooking up. We’re friends.”

  Karl looked at Sofie and said, “You kommst all this way with Max?”

  “She was helping us find Grandma’s house,” Max said. “We had no idea about the . . . well, you know . . . .” He looked at Birgitta and stopped talking, though not really knowing why since she didn’t understand English.

  Karl was silent. “Oh, ja, the portal. Margrit kommst mit?”

  Max struggled to get the words out. “I’m sorry, Gramps. She passed away a few weeks ago.”

  Karl’s eyebrows rose and then fell. His eyes teared and he didn’t reply.

  “We saw a photo back at the house,” Max said. “It was a photo of you, Grandma, and Vikktor Sonnenberg. How well did you know him?”

  Karl tilted his head. “How did you know who he was?”

  “Because Sofie recognized him. He’s her grandfather.” Max put his hands on her shoulder, drawing her forward. “Her great-aunt, Lotte, is here, too.”

  Karl gasped. His eyebrows were now drawn together, closely enough that Max could barely see where one stopped and the other started. Silence filled the air, and with it a tenseness thick enough that you could almost touch it.

  Lotte came out from hiding and faced Karl. They spoke in German and Max stared at Sofie. Her expression remained neutral.

  Finally, Max sa
t down at the kitchen table and said, “I don’t know about you, but I have too many questions. I don’t know where to begin.”

  Karl nodded. “Where is Vikktor?”

  Sofie said, “He died ten years ago in a plane crash while on a business trip.” She paused, and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “His pilot had filed a flight plan, but they never reached their destination. Both men were presumed lost, though the plane was never recovered.”

  Max stared at Sofie. “Did they find his body?”

  She shook her head.

  Max looked at Karl, expecting a reaction. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he caught a glimpse of a peculiar look; in a flash it was replaced by a mask-like face. Before Max had time to ponder it, Karl spoke.

  “My old friend Vikktor. He never have much luck. Had pneumonia as boy and meningitis as teenager. Poor fellow.”

  Sofie said, “How well did you know him?”

  “We were schoolmates, but we went separate ways after. I heard he married and had a family, but it did not go well. I saw him occasionally in passing.”

  “He rarely talked to me about his past.”

  Without thinking, Max put his arm around Sofie’s shoulder and pulled her close, then quickly let go when he noticed Karl looking at them speculatively.

  “How you meet?” Karl asked.

  Max cleared his throat and said, “It was a few days ago in Riesen. Ryan and I went there to take care of house business. I, uh, inherited your house. We met Sofie in town.” He left it at that, not wanting to embarrass Sofie by elaborating on falling ladder details. “Sofie and I didn’t know we were connected in any way until we saw the photograph in your house.” Max paused. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. A couple of days ago, he was happily walking down the dirt road to his grandmother’s house with Sofie, oblivious of his family’s secrets. He shook his head and asked, “Can you tell us what year this is?”

  “It is 1789.”

  Sofie said, “If there’s a time portal in your old house, could there be others in or around Riesen?”

  Karl shrugged. “I cannot answer.”

  Max said, “How did the portal get in your house? What do you know about it? Do you know how it works?” Max thought he saw something—a look—pass between his grandfather and Lotte, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d have to talk to Sofie when he got a chance. He was dying to know what they’d talked about in German.

  “I know nothing about it,” Karl said. “Your mother and I came through it, same as you.”

  Footsteps on the stairs leading up to the bedrooms caused everyone to go silent and wait. A young girl strode into the kitchen, then stopped and stared in surprise.

  “This is Birgitta’s granddaughter, Anneliese. The girl’s father is Birgitta’s son. Anneliese is my lehrling. I do not know how to say in English.”

  Sofie said, “Apprentice.”

  “Ja. She lives here with us.” He introduced everyone to her.

  “I didn’t know girls could be clockmaker apprentices in this time period,” Max said.

  “It is uncommon,” Karl said. “Goes against the practices and makes us unpopular.”

  Ryan moved further into the kitchen and sat down on a chair at the table. His eyes were practically glued to the girl. She had pale goldish-brown hair loosely braided down her back. Her big brown eyes and coloring reminded Max of a deer.

  “Where is my poor Monika? Did she make it home?”

  Max felt slightly ill. “I’m sorry, Gramps. We never heard from her. We hoped she was here with you. What happened?”

  “We got into trouble when we kommst here. I got arrested and locked up for a while. Outsiders get into trouble if they do not know the laws and customs in this century. When I got out, Monika was gone. I checked around. People told me she was taken away by a Baron.”

  “By force?”

  He shrugged. “I never found out. He take her to his home in Augsburg. That I know. I went there and was told she’d gone. Nothing else I find out. I came back to Riesen.” His face looked stricken.

  “Gramps, are you okay?”

  “Ja. I should have kept looking. I thought . . . I told myself she made it home. I find Birgitta and we make new life together, but I never forget Monika and Margrit.”

  Max slapped his hands on his knees, spying Sofie’s silent assent. “Well, we’ll find her now. If you’re willing to help, we can find her. Right?”

  Karl jumped up and said, “Ja. We head south toward Augsburg.”

  Max smiled.

  “We get ready and leave at dawn,” Karl said. “Women can gather food and supplies. Max and older boy and I will ready the horses and wagon. Women and younger boy can stay behind.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not staying behind,” Sofie said.

  “Hmm, den you, Max, and Ryan komm mit. Tobias stays here with Birgitta, Lotte, and Anneliese.”

  “I know that makes sense,” Sofie said. “But I can’t risk us getting separated for twenty years. Tobias comes with me.”

  Karl’s face reddened. Birgitta pulled on her husband’s sleeve, then leaned in and spoke to him in German. He answered, and from Max’s little knowledge of the language he figured out that Karl was telling her what was going on. She and Karl discussed the matter, then Karl looked around at the group. “We all go tomorrow, but we need second wagon or some of us will ride on horseback. We get some sleep tonight first, ja?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  AT DAWN THE household was aflutter with last minute activity. Max couldn’t stop smiling about their good luck. Even Lotte was seen smiling for a change. As Max was folding the quilts he and the others had slept on, Karl tapped on his shoulder to get his attention. “You, Ryan, and I go to stables now to get horses ready. The others can stay here and gather supplies for the journey.” Max nodded. At the stables, Karl decided to rent a larger Berlin carriage than the one he normally used and rent extra horses. Upon their return to the clock shop, Max sent Ryan inside to fetch the others.

  A few minutes later Ryan came out and handed two large baskets to Max to set in the carriage. Max nodded, resisting the urge to peek inside the baskets. Instead, he watched as Ryan lumbered back towards the house, took the armload of folded quilts Birgitta held out for him, and carried those to the carriage. After dumping them on a seat, Ryan turned around and walked back toward the clock shop. Max followed him, figuring he should check to see if the women had anything else ready. Ryan was walking rather slowly, and Max passed him. As he passed, he looked over his shoulder, noting Ryan’s moon dog daze. When Max arrived at the front door, Birgitta appeared and handed him lanterns and miscellaneous tools.

  Max returned to the carriage and stuck the items wherever he could find room. Karl shook his head and smiled. “You have not done this before.”

  “No, sorry. You can rearrange stuff if you want. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “I did not complain, did I?”

  Max shrugged.

  Karl proceeded to rearrange the items in the carriage’s compartments, walked off, but returned moments later, arms full. Max watched as Karl placed swords, daggers, and other weapons under the driver’s bench and in saddle bags. Sofie had apparently come outside and was watching, too. She looked pale.

  “Are you all right?” Max asked.

  “I’m, I’m fine . . . I’m just not used to seeing swords.”

  “Yeah, that kinda threw me, too. Having them displayed on my wall is entirely different from carrying them for self-defense. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a coward and I’ve had fencing lessons, but I’m dubious about testing my skills for real. I have no desire to kill or wound anyone.”

  “You don’t think we’ll have to defend ourselves, do you?”

  “I sure hope not.”

  Sofie sighed. “Your grandfather has survived here for twenty years, but it’s easier when you only have only yourself or one other person to worry about. A large group such as ours will be harder to keep together and protect.”

 
“Yeah, I’m thinking about that as well. If it’s any comfort, I was pretty good at fencing back in my college days and know quite a bit about knives and swords. I’m out of practice now, but I expect it would come back to me in a flash if it was a matter of life or death. I’d just rather not have to be in that situation.” He paused and then chuckled softly. “Gramps has an interesting collection of weapons for a clockmaker.” He scratched his head, adding, “I doubt, even in these barbaric days, that clockmakers have much need for the Katzbalger broadsword, Scottish Claymore two-handed sword, rapiers, and Swiss daggers in this collection.”

  She frowned. “You’re right. That does sound strange.”

  “Can you teach me how to fence?” Tobias asked. Max hadn’t seen him come outside. “You might need help if someone attacks us.”

  Sofie said, “You are not to go near those, do you understand?”

  “Mo . . . om! Kids my age fight in battles in this century. Max will let Ryan use them, right?”

  “Ryan is twice your age,” she said.

  Karl, who was standing nearby and wiping sweat from his brow and obviously listening to the conversation, cleared his throat and said, “Listen to your mutter. Swords are necessary evil but you must have training.”

  Tobias frowned, then turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped.

  Max felt sorry for the boy, who was now standing near the front door looking as if he’d lost his best friend in the whole world. Hoping to cheer him, Max waved and smiled. Although the boy tried to fight it, a slight smile crept across his lips. Max looked around for Ryan. Instead of helping load the carriage, he was standing on the street intently trying to talk with Anneliese. Max shook his head.

  When the whole group was outside and everything was ready, Max walked over to Tobias and put his arms around him. “I’m sorry. I know you want to help. Come on, cheer up. We’re going on an adventure.”

  Tobias looked up and smiled. “Do you think your grandfather will let me call him ‘Gramps’, too? I’ve never had a grandfather.”