by Hope Franke
“Lennon’s taking me out for a late dinner. It’s our one year anniversary!”
“Already?” Or should she say, Is that all? Lennon had been hanging around so much the last few months, he’d become part of the furnishings.
“Yes, and we’re going to a really fancy place in the Altstadt.” Gabriele floated to the spot in front of the mirror Eva had just vacated and applied hair product to her short bleach-blond hair. Her natural color was the same as Eva’s, an ordinary brown, and up until a year ago, just before Lennon, Eva recalled, she wore it long, too.
Gabriele started in on her makeup attacking green eyes (another trait she shared with Eva) with several layers of mascara, and then her full lips with a tube of red. She smacked them together and said with a little squeal, “I think he wants to talk about marriage.”
“What? Really?” Yay! Gabriele just got that much closer to leaving home. “That’s terrific!”
“Yeah, I’m really nervous.” Gabriele selected a pair of white, patent leather stilettos and slipped them on. She spread her arms wide and faced Eva. “What do you think?”
“You’re beautiful.” It was the truth. Gabriele had a tall, waif-like, fashion model look and the exuberance to go with it. Eva could barely believe they were sisters. Nobody could, really. Apart from their identical green eyes, they were nothing alike.
Eva put on her robe, collected her cane and followed Gabriele out into the living room where their parents joined in with her sister’s excitement.
“You look wonderful,” their mama said.
Papa sat on the chair facing the TV, and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Gabriele. “Isn’t that dress a little short?”
Gabriele laughed. “Oh, Papa. You’re so old-fashioned.” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, and Papa’s faux frown broke into a smile.
The door ringer buzzed, and Gabriele danced over to let Lennon in. They could hear his footsteps as he made his way to the second floor. He barely had a chance to tap on the door of the flat when Gabriele flung it open.
Lennon wore fashionable jeans and a form-fitting button-down shirt. He wore his dark hair combed back behind his ears, and he had a slight shadow on his chin. He was average height standing eye to eye with Gabriele when she wore high heels. Eva always considered Lennon to be handsome, the only kind of guy that would fit beside her sister, but tonight he was really handsome. And he’d brought her flowers.
Gabriele accepted them, and then they spent long moments taking each other in, their eyes bright with affection. Eva couldn’t keep from staring. What must it be like to be in love like that?
“Wow.” Lennon shook his head subtly like he couldn’t believe his good fortune. “You look gorgeous.”
Gabriele blushed and giggled. Papa cleared his throat.
“Herr Baumann,” Lennon said, looking up. “Good evening. And to you, too, Frau Baumann.”
They engaged in polite banter while Gabriele put her flowers in a vase. Then the pretty couple left, and it was like a vacuum had sucked the sunshine out of the room.
“So, Eva,” Papa finally said. “You can do the music for the lunch service on Sunday?”
Eva sighed. “I always do it. Why can’t Gabriele?” Her sister was also an accomplished guitar player and a great singer. Unfortunately. For a while, Eva thought she might have one thing that set her apart from the sister who had everything, but soon after Eva started playing the guitar seriously, Gabriele decided she would too, and quickly demonstrated that they had both inherited musical genes from their mother’s side.
“Ah, Schatz,” Papa started. “You know Gabriele.”
That was all he said. Gabriele had made it clear that, though she respected their parents’ call into the ministry, she had no interest in the street church. Mama could play the keyboard and sing like an angel, but she spent her time overseeing the kitchen, so the task of providing music had landed on Eva. There were others who could do it, and sometimes Eva asked for help, but the truth was, she didn’t really mind. It just bothered her that Gabriele had so much, and yet so little was required of her.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
Papa grunted as he lifted himself from his chair. “I’m going to review my sermon notes,” he said as he left for his office. Mama had already retreated to her room where she liked to spend the evenings reading. Eva turned on the TV, flipped through the channels, then yelped.
Sebastian Weiss was on TV! She pulled her robe tighter and leaned forward. He was with his band, Hollow Fellows, playing live in Hamburg.
Eva’s heart rattled in her chest as the camera zoomed in on Sebastian’s face. His eyes were closed and he belted out the words with such emotion and intensity. Then he opened them and stared into the camera. It was like his warm hazel eyes were looking right at her!
She couldn’t believe she’d once sat in the same room as him, a year ago at the Blue Note before he was famous. She’d been fascinated with him ever since, nursing a schoolgirl-type crush that only she and God knew about, and she had followed his rise to stardom with dedication.
He lived here, in the Neustadt area of Dresden. They were practically neighbors! It’d become a habit for her to stay alert to a possible Sebastian Weiss sighting when he was off tour. She hadn’t seen him since that fateful open mic night, though she had spotted the girl he was with once. Eva wondered if they were still together.
Not that it mattered. In real life Eva didn’t exist. She was a shadow. An echo.
But in her dreams she was… well, she was Gabriele. And Lennon was Sebastian Weiss.
The Hamburg gig was a hit, and Hollow Fellows’ first televised concert sent the station's ratings soaring. They partied long into the night afterward, celebrating. Sebastian indulged in one too many beers, but he stayed clear of the women. This was one of the many things he and Yvonne argued over. She was convinced his fame would go to his head and he’d cheat on her. Successful guys were renowned for justifying themselves, rationalizing their behavior—rules didn’t apply to them. That was what Yvonne believed, but Sebastian didn’t think she was being fair.
He didn’t know how to reassure her except to do exactly what he promised and keep clear of the girls. It was a tough job these days. Groupies, usually young, pretty girls, were coming out of the woodwork. Fortunately, the other guys in the band pulled up the slack. Karl, and their drummer Markus had a pretty girl on each arm all night.
Now, after allowing for a late sleep in, they gathered for brunch in the hotel restaurant. They had to request a private room at the back because of those very groupies. There was a collection of them waiting in the hotel lobby ready to pounce.
Sebastian sat across from Karl who sat beside Markus and Dirk. Florian held his grey head in two hands and moaned.
“One too many last night?” Sebastian chided.
“I didn’t drink anything,” Florian replied with a dry voice. “Didn’t feel good yesterday either.”
“You don’t look that good,” Karl added. “A little green around the gills.”
“Guys, I don’t think I can drive, and I can’t eat.” Florian stood to leave, holding an arm around his belly. “I gotta get back to my room.”
“Ah man,” Markus said. “Do you think he has the flu?”
Karl grunted. “He better not get the rest of us sick.”
Dirk had ordered for the band earlier and a small buffet of breakfast and lunch items was wheeled in. Buns, croissants, a collection of meats and cheeses, toast, cereal, fruit and yogurt along with coffee and a selection of juices.
Now that Sebastian’s hangover had ebbed a little, his appetite kicked in and he filled his plate.
“Someone else has to drive the bus now,” Dirk said after a few bites. “Any takers?”
Karl shook his head. “Not me. I plan on sleeping all the way back to Dresden.”
“Sebastian?” Dirk asked.
Sebastian pushed back a wave of panic, plastered a phony smile on his face and shook his head. “I would,
but I don’t drive.”
Dirk scoffed. “You don’t drive? You mean you didn’t get your license?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Never got around to it.”
That wasn’t true. His parents had coughed up the money to pay for the expensive lessons, and he had a barely pubescent photo on a German license to prove it.
“Fine,” Dirk said. He turned to Markus. “I guess that means you and I have to do it. I’ll do the first half.”
They finished eating, leaving a big mess in their wake, and snuck out the back way to the lobby to escape the groupies who had yet to leave. This was part of Sebastian’s new life he didn’t like. He missed being able to walk about freely without photographers snapping photos and girls throwing themselves at him. It was worse when they were on tour. He worried about going home and hoped that the Neustadt hadn’t changed as much as he had.
Their covert maneuver didn’t work this time. The elevator was in the process of slowly returning from the top floor, and they had to wait precious minutes for it to arrive at ground level. Before the doors opened, one of the groupies spotted them. A chorus of calls followed.
“Sebastian!”
“Karl, Markus!”
“Hollow Fellows!”
Before the guys could escape, one of the girls jumped Sebastian and kissed him on the mouth. A flash from a camera blinded him. He knew he’d just gotten photographed in a compromising position and could only hope that Yvonne wouldn’t see it. He pushed the girl off him as gently and forcibly as he could. It was bad press to be rude to fans.
He autographed a handful of CDs and one bare, feminine shoulder before the elevator doors opened and Dirk dragged him inside.
Karl laughed out loud. “I love being famous!” Sebastian high-fived him and smiled back. His best friend was having the time of his life. Sebastian just wished he could say the same thing.
He slept on the bus with just a few interruptions when the bus stopped for petrol and bathroom breaks. He found sleeping on the bus easier than sleeping alone in a dark, quiet room. The rumble lulled him to sleep and there was just enough light and motion to keep him from falling too deeply. It was in deep sleep that the bad dreams came.
Sebastian worried about Yvonne. Though she was cute, she wasn’t sweet by nature. He didn’t mind that. He was just grateful that she had stood by him through all the crap he went through at home when his parents disowned him for pursuing his foolish dream. She was there for him when they weren’t. She was his first real girlfriend and he loved her.
He wasn’t so sure she loved him in return. Not really. Lately, she’d grown distant, her demeanor cooler than usual.
They often argued, bickered really, not bonafide fighting. It was their way of communicating. Right? They’d fight, but they always made up. He could do this thing as long as she supported him. He’d bring her on the next tour. He’d sleep better if she were by his side.
Sebastian had wanted to bring her this time, but the guys had insisted—no girlfriends. But, he was the leader of this band, right? He would put his foot down next time. Yvonne would be with him snuggling through the long hours on the road. Then fame wouldn’t be so bad. The unwanted attention from groupies would wane if they saw he already had a girl on his arm.
It would be okay so long as Yvonne would agree to come. She was fuming mad when he told her she couldn’t come on this one. It would be just like her to refuse his offer when he invited her next time. Dig her heels in stubbornly. She was like that. Spiteful, sometimes. He’d have to woo her over again, but he was a pro at that.
It was dark when they pulled into Dresden. Sebastian texted Yvonne. Home in fifteen. Meet me at my place?
She was there when the bus dropped him off in front of his building, and he breathed out in relief. The worries he’d had concerning her were unmerited. He dropped his guitar case and suitcase by his feet and swooped her up, twirling her in a circle.
“Oh, I missed you, babe!”
She smiled a rare smile. “Missed you too, Basti.”
He kissed her lips, and pressed her thin, little body against his. He was home, and she was here.
Everything would be fine.
Summer was Eva’s favorite season. Not just because it was warm and sunny most of the time, which of course she did like, but because it was safe. Or at least, safer. The walkways and cobblestone streets were dry and easy to grip with the rubber tip of her cane. She left the house in the winter only when necessary because of the ice and snow, so summer was a time of freedom for Eva as well. She moved slowly, but she was mobile and she often visited Luther Square to sit on the wooden benches and stare up at the Gothic steeple of the ancient church.
Or, if she felt braver and stronger, she’d walk to the end of Alaunestrasse toward the park on the other side of Bischofsweg. Crossing the street there was hazardous and she had to walk an extra couple blocks to get to the crosswalk with stoplights, but it was worth it. Especially on a warm, floral-scented day like today.
The park was full of people: families with young children playing on the playground, teens and young adults gathering in groups to smoke and drink beer and colas and laugh, cyclists cutting through them on the bike paths.
Eva wistfully watched one girl pass by on her bike. That used to be her, always on her bike, loving how the wind blew her hair and how her lungs expanded taking in the fresh air. How her leg muscles burned in a way that made her feel strong and athletic.
But that was before.
Eva spotted Gabriele and Lennon, the happy soon-to-be-married couple sitting on a blanket with a few of their friends and she watched them from a distance. Gabriele sat cross-legged with her guitar propped over her knees and began to play. Soon a crowd gathered to listen. She feigned embarrassment and put the guitar back in its case.
It was a typical Gabriele move. She was a big tease, and she basked in the praise that followed her “retirement” until she reluctantly agreed to play again. Eva found herself drawing nearer. Despite her desire to avoid being entranced by her sister’s charisma, she couldn’t help getting caught in her snare. There was something about Gabriele that was magnetic, irresistible.
Lennon watched Gabriele with unabashed admiration as she played. He practically threw himself at her when she finished her next song, kissing her in a way that made Eva blush. Gabriele’s laughter rang out as she managed to dislodge herself, and in that moment she spotted Eva staring from outside the circle.
“Eva,” she called and lifted the guitar. “Your turn!” She turned to her friends. “My sister is really talented. The true star of the family.”
She gushed and waved Eva over. Eva was stunned. Had her sister gone mad? Eva couldn’t play in front of these people. She’d melt into a smelly puddle under their watchful, judgmental eyes. She couldn’t compete with her sister and Gabriele knew this. She just wanted to reaffirm that she was the better, prettier, more talented sister.
Why did Gabriele have to continually embarrass her like this? Eva spun on her heels and limped away. Gabriele had just ruined another perfect day.
“Eva!” Her sister chased after her and grabbed hold of Eva’s elbow forcing her to stop. “What’s the matter with you?”
Eva glared at her. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Do what? Play in front of people? You do it all the time at the street church.”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
“They don’t care if you’re good. Most of them can’t even tell if you’re good. It’s…”
“Safe?” Gabriele challenged.
“Yeah. It’s safe. Is there something wrong with that?”
“Eva, I know the accident changed things for you. It changed you. But you can’t let your scars define you. You still have to live.”
Eva blinked back tears and shook her head. “You just don’t know what it’s like.”
“Not personally, no. But I live it every day through you.” Her voice softened, “I just want you to be
happy. I want you to be fearless, again.”
Eva forced a smile. She’d forgive her sister. That was a given. She could never stay angry with Gabriele. “Thanks. I have to go now.”
She heard Gabriele huff out her frustration behind her as she turned back to her friends.
I want you to be fearless again.
Eva would like that, too. She just didn’t see how that was possible.
Sebastian had kicked out his lazy, noisy, filthy roommates the month the money started rolling in. They protested, but it was Sebastian’s name on the lease, so he was the one to call the shots. He actually missed the energy their presence had brought to the place for the first couple of days, but he didn’t miss the mess. Now, after being with guys day after day on the road, he was relieved to have the place to himself.
The early morning light woke him gently, but his bladder was a little more demanding. He stretched out his arm for Yvonne, but instead his fingers stroked empty, cool sheets.
He groaned and hefted himself out of bed. Yvonne never stayed. He understood why she had insisted on sneaking away before dawn when his roommates were exhaling their bad morning breath everywhere, but now that he lived alone he just didn’t get it. Her roommates certainly wouldn’t care if she stayed out all night.
At least he knew she wasn’t after his money. Or his fame. At least there was that.
He showered, dressed in lightweight jeans and a muscle shirt and headed for the kitchen. A cursory look told him what he already knew. He didn’t have any food. Or coffee.
He tugged on his cap and slipped on a pair of wide-lens aviators and headed out. Dresdeners didn’t normally rank people one over the other, so there was a good chance he could accomplish his goal of finding breakfast without being mauled. He walked past headbangers and stoners, young pregnant women and women pushing strollers. Well-dressed folks mingled among those who pretty much wore the same thing every day. All he had to do was keep his head down.
There was a good café and bakery run by ol’ Maurice’s new lady friend. He stepped inside and breathed in the rich aromatic scent. Fortunately, the place wasn’t very busy at the moment.
