by Susan Finlay
Anneliese slept sitting up and leaning against Karl’s shoulder on the bench seat. The medication made her drowsy and easier to handle. But he feared what would happen after the medicine wore off; that was anybody’s guess. Karl hoped she would at least sleep until they arrived at the farm.
The horses startled and skittered about, shaking the carriage more than normal, and it woke Anneliese for a second, but then she closed her eyes and slipped back to sleep again. Karl considered moving her to the bed of the wagon, but when he glanced over his shoulder and remembered his cargo, he squashed that idea. He hadn’t dared go to the farm empty-handed. Nein, he was taking a cuckoo that Anneliese had made, and giving it to her family to show that the girl had been learning the trade while staying with him, and also taking Anneliese’s belongings and some of Birgitta’s things that Karl figured might be of interest to her son.
Later in the day, as Karl approached the farm, gazing at the farm field, he spotted Anneliese’s father, Raimund, walking toward the wagon.
When Karl reined the horses to stop, Raimund greeted him.
Karl said, “I hope this is a good time for a visit. I would have sent word, but—” He didn’t finish, and instead helped the awake-yet groggy Anneliese down from the wagon. “Anneliese is not well,” he explained, “and needs her mother, I am afraid. I also thought the change of scenery might be good for her.”
Raimund grunted, the smile on his face vanishing abruptly. “You are leaving her here now that her grandmother is gone, ja? You have no more use for her?”
“It is not like that, Raimund. She is not well—in her head. The doctor gave little hope that her emotional problems could be cured. I am hoping her mother will have a better chance of calming and helping her.”
Raimund grunted again, and turned his back on them, but just then his wife, Felda, came rushing outside, ran over to the wagon, and hugged her daughter.
“You have come home, liebchen. I have missed you.”
Raising his hands in the air, Raimund groaned and then stalked off into his potato field.
“Come inside and I will get you both something to eat. How long will you stay?”
Karl said, “I cannot stay, but we have brought Anneliese’s belongings and some of Birgitta’s. Anneliese would like to stay here, if that is all right with you.” He went on to explain what had been going on with her.
Anneliese sat still, her eyes glassy, and didn’t say a word.
THE MUSCLES IN the back of Ingrid’s neck felt tense as they neared Riesen. Sofie had wanted to stop at Möbius first, but Helmut didn’t think that was a good idea. He wanted to get to Werner’s house before nightfall. Ingrid wondered how her brother would react to their unexpected visit, but more than that, how he would react to seeing her after all these years. She’d been an eight-year-old kid the last time he’d seen her. How awful she would look to him now, a dried up old woman. The thought made her want to cry, but she held back her tears.
They followed Helmut through the town’s gate along the road that passed by the church where Ingrid had first seen Helmut talking to the priest. Minutes later, they passed Karl’s clock shop, closed up tight. That wasn’t strange considering it was late in the day, dinnertime or beyond, and most businesses were closed.
They rounded a corner and continued down a couple more streets and then stopped in front of Sofie’s future house. The house that had been in Sofie’s family for centuries. Mein Gott! Is this Werner’s house?
Sofie was up ahead, so Ingrid didn’t see what her reaction was, but she was sure it was shock, as well. She thought back to their first night in this century for a moment. They had talked about checking out the house, thinking maybe it belonged to an ancestor. They’d decided against it, because they didn’t know how they would explain themselves to the people who lived there. Besides, it was just a bit too spooky.
She shook her head. If only they’d tried. Everything might have turned out differently for them all. She got down from her horse by herself and nearly fell in the process, while Ryan was helping Johanna down, then walked over to where Helmut, Sofie, and Peter were standing. She glanced at Sofie. Her expression was unreadable.
As they all walked toward the front door, Sofie said, “I rode by here a few days ago and saw a woman with children coming out of the house.”
“That may have been Werner’s daughter and grandchildren. They live here in Riesen, too.”
Sofie nodded.
Ingrid wanted to ask Helmut why he’d been in Riesen a few days ago, talking to the priest, but didn’t want him or Sofie to know she’d already spotted him before and had hoped he was her son. They might think she’d somehow finagled the whole trip to Dinkelsbühl, when it had been Karl’s suggestion.
“Shall we see if Uncle Werner is home?” Helmut asked.
Ingrid said, “Ja. I hope I don’t scare him.”
“Why would you? He knows about the time portal,” Helmut said.
“Of course.” She didn’t say anything about her fears regarding her ancient appearance. She followed Helmut and the others to the front door.
An old man answered.
Ingrid stared at him, from her spot next to Sofie. Her muscular, blond-haired blue-eyed brother who’d made a striking figure in his soldier’s uniform had transformed into a slightly overweight, white-haired old man in eighteenth-century every day clothing. She licked her lower lip and waited for Helmut to make the introductions. Well, I’m not the only scary visage around here.
After speaking to his uncle Werner for a few moments, Helmut made introductions. Werner stepped outside, looked Ingrid up and down and took his baby sister into his arms. “I have missed you, Lotte,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m sorry you are stuck here, too, but I’m happy to see you. Very happy, ja.”
Ingrid’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m happy to see you, too. We thought you were killed in the war. That’s what we were told. A soldier came to the house and told Mutter.”
“Ja. That was probably arranged by the person who sent me here.”
“Who sent you to this time period? Vikktor was not yet twelve when you left.”
“That is a long story. Come inside and meet my family. Then we can eat, ja?”
Later, after dinner, Ingrid sat in the kitchen, sipping an apple flavored liquor that Werner had made. Her head was spinning. So many people in his family—a wife, a daughter, a son-in-law, another daughter who was a widow, three sons, three daughters-in-law, eighteen grandchildren, or was it twenty? She’d lost count. And, oh, she’d forgotten about the six great-grandchildren. As for their names, there was no way she could remember them all or put faces to the names she could remember. She could barely keep track of her own two names. Which one had he told them? Was she going by Lotte or Ingrid here? Did they know she was his sister? What was Sofie to her—granddaughter, great-niece? She should have paid more attention, but everything was so hectic here and she had been having some trouble with memory and concentration lately.
How on earth could this eighty-six-year-old man keep up with all these people and keep their names and relationships straight? She shook her head in wonder.
Sofie sat down beside Ingrid and leaned in close. “Are you all right? You look upset.”
“I’m not upset. Not really. More tired, puzzled, and a bit overwhelmed.” She glanced at Sofie. “Do you regret our not coming here sooner to see who was living in your house? I do. Can you imagine how different things might have turned out? How could we have been so daft?”
“I thought of stopping here many times. I suppose things might have been easier if we had come here that first night, but then we might not ever have found Max’s mother.” She hesitated, glanced at Werner and his wife, then said, “What I don’t understand is how did Werner’s house passed down through his family and end up being owned by Vikktor, if he and Vikktor are enemies?”
“Maybe they aren’t enemies. Vikktor didn’t send Werner into the past. Maybe they haven’t even seen each other.�
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“Hmm. But still, how did Vikktor end up with this house? They’re brothers, but in different time periods. Well, sort of. Vikktor goes back and forth, if I’m understanding things right.”
“This time travel stuff is too confusing to me,” Ingrid said. “It hurts my brain to think about it. I get mixed up enough without it. It’s not easy getting old, no matter what century you live in.”
Werner came over to them and said, “It is late and you have had a long day of travel. I am an old man and I, too, am tired. We will sleep now. You and your family can all stay here in the parlor. Gretchen will fetch the children and I will bring pillows and blankets. Tomorrow morning, we will talk, ja?”
Ingrid sighed, disappointed that further talk would have to wait until morning, but when she sat on the floor, she realized she was quite fatigued. She decided perhaps morning would be fine for talking.
After breakfast the next morning, Sofie, Ingrid, and Helmut arranged themselves on a settee in the parlor, with Werner sitting across from them. Werner’s wife, Gretchen, so far hadn’t joined them. She was probably in the kitchen cleaning up, Ingrid decided.
“Who sent you into the past, Werner?” Sofie asked.
“Before I answer, I have questions,” Werner said. “I welcomed you into my home for the night, family or not. I know Helmut believes you are who you say you are. I apologize for doubting, if you truly are who you say, but I need verification.” He turned and faced his nephew. “Sorry, Helmut. I trust you. It’s other people, outsiders, I don’t trust. I haven’t survived for eighty-six years by being gullible. I have met more liars and connivers in my lifetime than you could imagine.”
Ingrid glanced at the others, then said, “I understand that. We’ve all met our share, too. What do you want to know about us?”
“Tell me how you got into the past and how you found Helmut and his family.”
No one else spoke. Ingrid, figuring it was up to her, took a deep breath and let it out. Before she got a word out, the door opened and Gretchen strode in carrying a tray with drinks.
“Sorry to interrupt. I thought you might like something to drink.” She set the tray down on a table, then swiped white hair back from her face, turned and left, closing the kitchen door behind her.
Something about that motion and the look in Gretchen’s tired eyes struck Ingrid as familiar somehow, but she didn’t know how, so she brushed the thought aside and proceeded to tell Werner their story. She told him about how they had found Helmut after his father-in-law had been murdered, and how they had time traveled a few months ago and had found Karl and Birgitta living right there in Riesen. She even told him the part where Birgitta was killed, and how she had written a confession to cover for Karl, since she thought Vikktor was sending her home. She told him about changing her name and pretending to be Sofie’s grandmother because the Feldgendarms were still searching for her.
“So, you two are not really related? How did you know each other?”
“Vikktor brought her back to the future with him.”
“She’s from here?” He studied Sofie’s face but didn’t say anything more.
Helmut stood up and ran his hand through his hair. His eyes had a bewildered look in them. Glancing at his uncle, he said, “How old was she when he took her to the future?”
“A baby. Three or four months old. I don’t remember exactly. He brought her to my house and told me he’d taken her away from an evil man.”
Both men turned and stared at Sofie. Werner asked, “How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RIGHT AFTER THEIR conversation in the early evening, Max arranged for Lisa and Jenny to stay in Magda and Franz’s cabin, in their three-year-old daughter’s room. The daughter would sleep in her parents’ bed, which she often did anyway. Both women safely tucked away, he went back to his own cabin and began pacing, worrying. What the hell was he supposed to do? He needed to find Tobias, but he also needed to figure out how he would handle his wife and his ex-wife living in the same tiny village. If he knew them both, as he thought he did, they would hate each other. Well, perhaps hate was too strong; they certainly wouldn’t become fast friends. There was enough stress around here without adding them into the mix. Damn. The two problems—missing son and newly found daughter and ex-wife—were equally devastating to him and to Sofie, and both left him up fecal creek. For the first time, he almost wished he would get transported back to the future, alone. He shook himself, realizing where he was going. Get a grip. Isn’t that the sort of thinking that broke up my first marriage? Gotta grow up, be a man, and handle this.
He debated whether to go back to Riesen and search there again. Karl had told him he had searched and talked to the locals. That didn’t mean he checked every place in town. Another option was to see if Valkyrie might lead him to Tobias. Maybe she’d gone with him, and then something had happened that sent her running back to their village. He supposed it was a possibility. He thought she was smart enough, but cats are certainly not dogs. Would her cat-ness allow her to lead him to the boy? She was sleeping on Tobias’s bed and didn’t seem agitated that he was missing. What did that mean? Did she know he was safe? Could he be hiding somewhere close, waiting to see if his absence caused a big commotion? Max remembered one of the twins doing that when they were young. He didn’t recall which one of them it was. Maybe Lisa could tell him. He would ask in the morning if Tobias wasn’t back by then. Surely if he was hiding, he would come home when it got dark and spooky out.
AFTER STUMBLING AROUND in the dark, Tobias found three empty wooden crates and stacked them up, hoping to reach a small window near the ceiling, where light came in. He carefully climbed up on top of the rickety affair and tilted his head up to try to see out. The top of his head was still at least a foot below the bottom edge of the window. Not enough. This sucks. How am I going to get out of here? Someone had conked him on the back of the head earlier—he didn’t see who it was. Why would somebody want to hurt me? I haven’t done anything to anybody? Then he remembered all the stories he’d heard on the TV news back home. Stories about kids being kidnapped, molested, or killed. He remembered his teachers telling them about stranger danger. Did that kind of thing happen in this century, too?
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, and could only guess it was some kind of root cellar—or a dungeon—by the coldness, the darkness, and the stale smell of something like old potatoes. He’d awakened earlier and found himself lying on a stone floor, with his head aching. After touching his head and screaming at the tenderness, he’d discovered a large bump protruding from the top of his head.
His stomach was growling. How long had it been since breakfast? He wanted to eat almost as much as he wanted to get out of the scary place. Barely any light came through the window. He wasn’t sure if that was because the window was dirty or if it was getting dark outside. He’d spent hours, at least it felt like hours but might not have been that long, screaming for help after he’d regained consciousness. That hadn’t done any good and only made his throat hurt.
Plopping back down on the floor, he felt tears well up in his eyes. He’d never been away from his family at night before. Never. Even when he’d been hit by a car when he was little and had to stay in the hospital, his mother had stayed with him.
I don’t want to die. How is anyone going to find me? With that thought the tears flowed freely. Max is probably looking for me, but he’ll never find me here. How can he? I don’t even know where I am.
He reached out to pet Valkyrie, then remembered he’d left her at home, but his hand still touched something furry. He recoiled his hand, jumped up, and screamed. Some animal was in there with him and he couldn’t see what it was. His heart pounded so hard he thought it would explode out of his chest. Can kids have heart attacks, he wondered. He hoped not.
When he finally calmed down, he pulled the three empty crates he’d stacked up earlier over and fashioned them into a kind of bed, then
sat cross-legged on top. Not going to sit on the floor again. No way. “I want to go home. Please, Max—Dad—come and get me.”
He tried to sleep, but couldn’t. Curled up in the fetal position, he thought about his mother, Max, Ryan, and the others in their village. They must be worried sick, almost as worried as he was. And poor Valkyrie. She must be thinking he’d abandoned her. If only he’d taken her with him into town, at least he wouldn’t be alone, and she could kill that rodent or whatever it was.
KARL TRIED TO get away from the Braun farm, saying that he had clocks to build back home, but Anneliese’s mother wouldn’t hear of it.
“You must stay a while longer,” she said. “Anneliese is not sure she wants to stay here with us. She may want to go back with you. Give her a few days, bitte.”
Karl’s jaw clamped tight. This is not good. The longer he stayed, the more risk there was. So far, the medicine he’d been giving Anneliese had kept her relatively calm and manageable. But what would happen when that changed or the medicine was gone? He did not want to remain to see. He wanted to make his escape now.
“It’s a long drive back. Surely, you are tired. And I will fix you the biggest breakfast you can imagine. At least stay the night, ja?”
Karl nodded, resigned. He hoped he had enough medicine for Anneliese to get by for a couple of weeks, long enough that she would become her parents’ problem and not his. He knew Felda and Raimund. Raimund was the louder and gruffer of the two, but Felda was the one who usually, in most things, got what she wanted. If she wanted him to stay a few days, he was staying no matter how many fits Raimund threw. The question really was, would Anneliese be allowed to stay after Karl left? When it came to their daughter, Felda did not always get what she wanted.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOFIE STARED BACK at the two men, Helmut and Werner. What was going on? They were acting weird. “Why did you want to know my age?”
