by Deborah Noel
Declan laughed at me as he watched me eat the cake. I couldn’t help myself, as the tastes of chocolate, cherries and cream dissolved along with the sponge cake soaked with alcohol on my tongue, I’d roll my eyes and thoroughly enjoy the experience. Brae concurred.
It was late at night and the cooks, waitresses and maitre d' were finishing their shifts. They sat at the end of the table. They introduced themselves in English and started asking questions as to where we were from, what brought us to Germany (which we lied about) and started giving us suggestions of places we needed to see and about local folklore.
After taste-testing and stuffing our gullets, we all decided it was best to call it a night. I know my belly was full to the brim and I was exhausted. We had a long travel day ahead of us on top of trying to track down Bolton and his family.
Brae was going to check out the private rooms of her ancestors with Ingo, the bellhop, before turning in for the night. Declan and I bid goodnight and thank you to everyone around our table.
We walked slowly through the lobby to the stairs, seeing what visuals we missed the first trip up. There were tapestries that dotted this wall and that one between the pictures of Rodeck’s monarchs.
Once we got back into our room, Declan politely opened the door and waited for me to enter first. I draped my sweater on the overstuffed chair and suddenly found myself swept up off of my feet and in Declan’s strong arms.
A fire still burned in the fireplace.
The need for Declan I was feeling tonight was the strongest I had ever felt. I knew Declan felt the same by his long and hard kiss.
He gently pulled away from my lips.
He set me down on the bed and languidly sat down behind me on the bed. He began to squeeze my shoulders and I knew I was in for one of his mind-erasing massages. Keeping his hands on my shoulders, he kneeled behind me. My head fell forward from the weight of tension leaving my body under command of his fingers.
He reached around me and pulled my shirt off over my head. He worked his fingers at my hair-line then around the back of my neck and moved slowly down between my shoulder blades. In strong circles he continued moving slowly across my back.
He worked at the knots along my spine.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as the tension disappeared from its refuge in my muscles. Most of those tears were falling for my missing daughter.
“We will find her, my darling,” Declan whispered softly in my mind.
I nodded with all the faith I could muster.
He continued working the lactic acid out of my muscles. I was like putty when he was done.
His touch on my skin changed. Barely gliding his fingertips along my skin he sent shivers and chills rippling through me. Goosebumps covered parts of my limbs, depending on where I felt his contact. Gently he kissed my neck. We both felt the need of coming together. It was a reunion of our souls; it was a way to build our strength. Our sex was selfish and greedy but loving and life-affirming. Exhausting. Our limbs entangled, we collapsed, struggling to catch our breaths.
Our sleep that night was deep and soundless.
Declan and I woke to take in the sunrise as Ingo had suggested. He was right, it was unlike any other sunrise I had ever seen. Watching the sun’s light filter down into the valleys after gently waking the trees of the hills was awe-inspiring. I could almost see the trees stretching to meet the warming rays of the bright orange sun. At the bottom of the long stalks of the trees, the ground went from the jet black tone of the night to the warm glow of dawn.
It was rejuvenating and invigorating.
We came back into our room and cuddled up back in the soft pillows and mattress that felt like clouds. We were asleep again in seconds.
The phone next to the bed rang. Brae was up and raring to get the day started. She rambled on and on like she had already had two pots of strong black coffee.
I laughed and stopped her mid sentence, “I need to shake the sleep out of my brain, Brae, before I can even recognize one word that you have uttered to me.”
I heard a hearty laugh through the line as I replaced the phone in its cradle. I gently shook Declan, dragging him from his dream.
“Brae’s ready to go.”
Without opening his eyes, “Good for her, I’m not.”
I made a pot of coffee using the small Keurig on the counter. Then I jumped in the shower. Declan joined me as I was rinsing off.
Within an hour, we had the rental car packed and Brae was long-windedly chattering on about her newly acquired family’s history. Ingo had been able to get an actual photograph of the charcoal sketch for Brae, which had instantly become her most treasured possession. One of the waitresses from the night before had suggested that we head east to take in some of the more scenic views.
On a particularly long, twisty road we passed a sign that caught my attention. I asked Declan to pull over and back up so I could read it.
It was a small white sign about sixteen by eighteen inches with blue lettering and a big bold red arrow pointing straight ahead.
The letters read – Dethstare Gartens.
My heart stopped. Declan looked at me and smiled. Brae had talked herself to sleep in the back seat.
We followed the arrow. The road wound up a large mountain lined with huge trees that were lush and green. Around a twisting bend a driveway appeared along with a bigger sign that duplicated the one on the side of the road. This time it directed us down a tree-lined gravel driveway. It seemed we drove a mile into the trees before a clearing presented itself. A huge log cabin with a hipped roof stood proudly, though still quite a distance away, tucked in between rolling hills of herb gardens. The fragrance coming from the different herbs reminded me of home, only the smell was a thousand times more potent.
In one garden, purple flowers of huge lavender plants danced freely on the breeze. It carried their scent for miles. Another garden was nothing but deep purple basil plants. Yet another contained only chamomile bursting with tiny delicate white flowers getting ready to shed their seeds. There must have been 50 different dedicated areas of different organic herbs. They went on as far as one could see; up and down rolling hills surrounding the log cabin. Beautiful wasn’t a strong enough adjective to describe it correctly. In my wildest dreams, I had never seen such a stunning display of nature.
There was a turn in the driveway that led us to a small open building where the herbs could be bought by visitors. There was no one manning the store. A sign informing people of the hours of business was hanging on a wooden post. Just below it was a handwritten sign in both German and English that said, “Zuruck in funfzehn minuten”; “Be back in fifteen minutes.”
We continued on toward the main house. The structure was as gorgeous as the gardens surrounding it. The wraparound deck sported hand-made wooden rocking chairs and hanging potted spider plants, baby’s breath and snap-dragons. We parked the car and got out. There was a walkway leading up to the house made of pieces of broken blue stone. Moss filled in the cracks around the stones. We followed the curving blue stone to the wide wooden stairs leading to the front door.
Declan knocked lightly.
A short older woman answered the door. She had Bolton’s eyes. Her skin was tanned by the sun after years of working the earth. Her aging muscles were extremely toned from tending to all of the gardens around her.
“Guten-tag,” she said to us.
Declan spoke up, “Sprechen Sie Englisch?”
The lady nodded slowly, “I do.” Her native German made her barely understandable. “I can send my daughter down to the store to assist you with the herbs.”
Declan shook his hands back and forth.
“No, ma’am. We are looking for Bolton Dethstare and were wondering if you could tell us where to find him.”
A strange look came over the woman’s face. She seemed unsure as to whether to narrow her eyes at us or show pity.
She thought carefully of her words, “What do you want with my brother?”
/> I jumped in, “We would just like to talk to him. It’s been a while since we have seen him.”
“You knew Bolton?” she asked surprisingly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Declan answered her.
Bewilderment covered her face.
She shrugged. “I will take you to him. Wait in your car, you can follow me.”
She disappeared inside and closed the door tightly.
We walked back to our car a little perplexed.
Brae broke the silence, “That was easy enough.”
“Maybe a little too,” Declan said in my mind.
I giggled.
“Um, I am here with you guys, do you have to keep secrets right in front of me?” Brae asked with a slight tone of sarcasm.
Declan and I looked at her as she climbed into the back seat.
“Sorry,” we chimed together.
“All I know,” Declan began, “is if some foreigner knocked on my door asking to see my brother, I’d have a million questions before I took ‘em to him.”
Brae sighed, “I hear ya.”
Sometimes it’s hard to remember Brae was a witch.
A silver Opel Vectra came puttering from behind the house up along the gravel driveway. For some reason, I had expected an ol’ chap to be chauffeuring, but instead a young woman, dressed in chauffeur garb, was behind the wheel. She nodded as she passed by us to take the lead.
We drove back the way we came. The car in front of us turned right instead of taking the left that would have gotten us back to our temporary home.
After several miles we crested the hill we had been climbing. Instead of making our way down the other side, we weaved along across the top of the hill. We came upon a set of iron gates with the name “Schongebiethalle.”
Brae, in her best German accent, pronounced the name for us. “It means sanctuary hall.”
The driver punched a code into the security box and the huge black sculpted gates opened, inviting us in.
It didn’t take us long to realize we were in a cemetery.
I looked at Declan. “Poor Bolton. Morticina should have called to tell us.”
“I didn’t realize we were that close to them.”
“Well, close enough for them to invite us to have dinner together.”
Declan thinned his lips, “It was just dinner one time.”
“I wonder where Morticina is now.” I paused in thought. I didn’t realize that I continued out loud. “And the boys. Chloe and Emily, I would have thought would have stopped by to tell me.” Ratiocination was always my first way of hashing out confusing situations.
We followed behind the silver Vectra along the narrow lane through the well-groomed and landscaped cemetery. Out of the ground rose tall mausoleums or rounded tombstones. Flat grave markers showed the resting places of others.
The grass was manicured like a golf course, in pristine condition. Huge weeping willow trees dotted the hills and valleys throughout the acres. We crested another small hill. The car in front of us slowed to a stop. The riders exited the car and waited for us to join them.
“This is Jondra, my niece,” the elder woman introduced her driver. “My name is Evelyn Dethstare.”
Declan extended his hand to her then introduced me and Branwen.
We walked in silence several yards before the women stopped before a huge cross that stood between two shorter tombstones. Evelyn knelt before one of the sculpted concrete markers. She said a quick prayer in her native language and turned to me.
“Bolton rests here.”
Our focus turned to read the engraved marker.
“Bolton Conrad Dethstare
Dedicated Husband,
Beloved Father
Upstanding Businessman.
Will be missed forever
By All”
October 13, 1898
October 28, 1938
Erected by his loving wife, Morticina”
I re-read the dates. Brae put her hand on my shoulder. I looked to Declan. Ever so slightly he shook his head from side to side informing me to say nothing.
Jondra stared at me intensely. Without removing her gaze, she reached down and aided her aunt to her feet.
“With all due respect,” Declan began softly, “what happened to Bolton?”
“You mean how’d he die?” Jondra snapped with a heavy German accent.
Like a whip, Evelyn slapped Jondra, “Mind your manners girl,” then turned to Declan, “My brother died 71 years ago at the age of 40. He was involved in a farming accident. I was 31.” She was easier to understand even though her English was broken.
I watched Bolton’s sister meet Brae’s eyes, “Yes dear, that makes me 102.”
Before I could stop myself I blurted out, “You are 102?”
I covered my own mouth with my hand and whispered through my fingers, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I would have never thought you were over 68 years old, let alone over 100.”
She smiled at me. Jondra glared harder at me. Brae squeezed my shoulder tighter. Declan raised his eyebrows at me.
Evelyn reached over and patted my hand, “It’s refreshing to hear the truth roll off someone’s tongue for a change. Thank you, child.”
Jondra snorted, quickly stepping out of her aunt’s reach. She wasn’t quick enough, another slap landed on the girl’s cheek.
Declan stepped up to stand between the relations, “Bolton’s wife…”
Evelyn cut him off by pointing to the tombstone adjacent to Bolton’s.
“Morticina Elizabeth Ludwig-Dethstare
Dedicated Wife,
Devoted Mother
Will be missed forever
By All”
May 6, 1898
October 28, 1939
In memory of her children”
Before we could ask, Evelyn explained, “Morticina was a wonderful, devoted mother, but the loss of her husband broke her heart. That is what killed her. Jondra was just an infant, just 3 months when her mother left this existence.”
I watched as tears welled up in Jondra’s eyes. She trudged off and stood by the car, her back turned towards us.
Again anticipating our question, Evelyn pointed to markers in the ground next to Morticina’s grave.
“Blake Bolton Dethstare
Beloved son,
Twin brother,
Will be missed forever
By All”
February 27, 1923
October 28, 1938
Erected by his loving mother, Morticina”
And the marker next to it,
“Lucas Conrad Dethstare
Beloved Brother
Upstanding Businessman,
After his Father
Will be missed forever
By All”
February 27, 1923
December 23, 1953
Erected by his loving sister, Jondra”
Evelyn pivoted easily on her heels and looked into my eyes as if she was searching my soul.
“Your business with my brother and his family?”
Brae stepped forward. “Ms. Evelyn, my cousin here and I are descendants of Sebastian and Gwenediere Ludke as young children we were told many stories of your brother and his dealings with our family, how he helped with our gardens when our soil was not producing. This is our first visit to Kappelrodeck and we felt it only proper that we pay our respects to your brother and his family.”
The elder woman smiled, “How noble of you. Thank you.”
“Thank you for bringing us here,” Declan added.
Evelyn turned to Brae, “When you visit Sebastian’s resting place, please send him my regards.”
A devilish smile twisted the old woman’s lips upward. She ordered Jondra to start the car, “Tell him his sister-in-law hopes he is resting in peace.”
She linked her arm through Declan’s as she started us away from the graves.
I walked up ahead. I got to the cars before the others. I stopped beside Jondra. Our eyes met and kept the look.
As if under her breath, without thinking I’d understand, Jondra muttered, “Die alte Frau ist vielleicht nicht mehr so fix wie sie mal war, aber du kannst dir sicher sein, dass ich dir das nicht abkaufe. An der Tür hast du gesagt "es ist eine Weile her seit du mit ihm gesprochen hast", erwartest du etwa, dass ich dir glaube, dass du vor über 70 Jahren mit ihm gesprochen hast?” (The old woman may not be as swift as she once was, but rest assured I don’t buy your story. At the door you said, “it has been a while since you talked to him.” You expect me to believe you spoke with him 70-some years ago?)
Jondra smirked thinking I knew not what she said. I surprised by answering her, “No more than you expect me to believe you are in your 70s.”
She was surprised by my response, let alone that I understood German, and her eyes relaxed in their intensity.
“Dann ist unser Geheimnis sicher. Wo wirst du wohnen, und für wie lange? Ich werde versuchen von meiner senilen alten Tante wegzukommen und meinem Vater zu sagen, dass du hier bist und ihn sehen willst.” (Then our secret remains safe. Where are you staying and for how long? I will see if I can get away from my crone of an aunt to tell my father you are here to see him.)
I nodded and told her how to find me.
“Ich brauche 24 Stunden.” (I will need 24 hours.)
