Читать книгу 'Das Haus' the House and the Son of the Rabbi - Sean Ryan Stuart - Страница 11

Chapter 5

“Arbeit Macht Frei” Work Will Set You Free

(Quotation often seen at the entrance to concentration camps)

Cameron woke early, unable to sleep. The excitement and strangeness of the previous day had left him somewhat uneasy. Yet it stimulated him to the possibility of purchasing this new home, Das Haus. He only hoped that Ingrid would be as excited as he was. After all he thought to himself, women are more sensitive to these types of things and may not see the mystery of it all.

He glanced at his watch and noticed it was only five forty-five a.m. Cameron was sure that his office staff would not be at work this early in the morning. Germans were very punctual individuals, but not that punctual. He took his time while showering and dressing, and eventually wandered down to the kitchen by six-thirty. Both Dieter and Kate were already up and drinking coffee, their favorite pastime it seemed. He sat down at the table and joined them for breakfast, and ate in silence. Eventually Cameron broke the silence by asking Dieter for directions to his office in Aachen.

“No problem Cameron, I know exactly where it is. Just take the Europaplatz exit and follow it down to the intersection of Bismarckplatz. If you look to the right, you will see a four story modern yellow building. Your office is actually on the third floor and it faces the main square.” Answered Dieter in a matter fact tone.

“Thank you, Dieter. I am sure I will be able to find it without problems. I think I will be leaving shortly.” Replied Cameron as he got up and walked out to his car.

The trip to Aachen took around forty minutes. Cameron was once again flabbergasted at the speed of the average German commuter, somewhere around one hundred and twenty miles an hour. Cameron knew he would have to practice high speed driving techniques again, because the Germans showed no mercy for unsuspecting Americans, they would simply be brushed aside like General Rommel going through El Alamein in North Africa.

Cameron found a convenient parking spot near the Kaufhof store and hoped it would be OK to park there all day. He glanced at his watch and noticed that it was only seven-thirty. He grabbed his attaché case and walked over to his office. The building itself appeared to be of modern construction, but was actually over a hundred years old, he thought to himself. The other tenants were mostly insurance companies, law firms or so they appeared to him. Cameron took the elevator to the third floor, and as he exited the elevator, he immediately noticed the doublewide glass door of his office, Aachener Freies Blatt (Aachen Free Press) was boldly emblazoned in three inch high letters across the center of the door. Jerry Kunstoff’s name was boldly painted on the side of the door.

No question as to who owned it, Cameron thought.

He walked in and was immediately surprised at the modern décor of the place. The front lobby was right out of a Scandinavian furniture store. Pale colors and pine furniture everywhere. However, other parts of the office were less modern and were more baroque. Towards the back of the room, sat a majestic woman. She was by any standards extremely tall, and when she stood up she appeared to be at least six-foot three. Frau Rausching wore a navy blue suit and wore her hair on a bun, which even made her look taller. She was by no means skinny, hardy German stock. Cameron thought to himself.

“Guten Tag, Herr Clark.” boomed a smiling Frau Rausching as he entered the office. Her English was impeccable, although a trace of Oxford grammar punctuated her sentences.

“Guten Tag to you, Frau Rausching.” He answered as he approached her desk. Cameron extended his hand towards her and she took it like a fullback running for a touchdown. Her grip was extremely powerful and her stare even more so.

It took Cameron a few seconds to recover from this wrestling experience. He politely bowed and withdrew his crushed right hand from her deadly grip. Wow! I am sure Frau Rausching wrestles professionally, he smiled deep in thought. The images of a six foot three, two hundred plus woman in tights rushed through his mind like a derailed freight train.

“I am glad to see that you are early, Frau Rausching. I have many things to discuss, and I would like to get started as soon as possible.” Stated an obviously confident Cameron.

“I am equally happy to see that you are also punctual, Herr Clark. One hears such unpleasant work ethic comments about Americans, and I am happy to see that they are not true.” Replied Frau Rausching in a snickering sort of way.

Cameron was a little dismayed at her comment, but decided not to take it too seriously right now. He would have plenty of opportunity to put her in her place in the near future. Frau Rausching walked Cameron to his new office, and politely informed him of the office regulations. Cameron listened attentively, without interrupting her and finally decided he had heard enough of her bullying.

“Frau Rausching, you must understand that my assignment in this office is only temporary. However, as long as I am here, you will try to follow my protocol. Jerry Kunstoff has given me the ultimate authority to run this office as I see fit, is that understood, Frau Rausching?” Stated a somewhat displeased Cameron.

His tone of voice and mannerisms obviously caught her by surprise. It was not very often that anyone dared to talk to her in that manner. She quietly reflected his demeanor, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor. She quietly smiled and bowed her head, as she walked out of the room. Cameron realized that Frau Rausching would be a hand full, but he had won the first battle. The next few hours were a series of interruptions as various staff members came in to introduce themselves during the morning hours. There was Fraulein Ziggerman, a thirty- something good-looking woman with brunette hair. Beate as all her colleagues knew her, had a catching smile and a face full of freckles. Her charming personality was contagious, and her work ethic unsurpassed by anyone.

Hans Guenther Froemer was the kid of the group. He was barely twenty-two, and yet pretended to be much older. He was a university student, majoring in ‘Journalism’, and spent his nonacademic time working for a living. One member of the staff was missing today; Reiner Devries was the senior editor, but had gone to Mallorca Spain, for a much needed vacation. According to all, he was the backbone of the office, and was sorely missed by all. Reiner had recently divorced his wife of fifteen years. In Germany where the ‘No Fault Divorce Law’ was invented, a vacation was the best thing for any male caught up in such a horrendous financial dilemma. Cameron was extremely unhappy about Reiner’s absence, but they had to get started as soon as possible. Cameron asked the not so friendly Frau Rausching to get the staff together.

They all met in the official conference room, which was at the end of the office. It was in sharp contrast to the modern decor in the inner office. Cameron was instantly amazed at the magnificent adornments and opulence of this large meeting room. It had no resemblance to the rest of the building. It was right out of the nineteenth century. Heavy oak panels covered the entire room from floor to ceiling. They not only looked expensive, but permeated an aura of nobless and royalty. A huge Austrian crystal chandelier hung from the ornate twenty-foot high ceiling. It was so lavish that it appeared to be made out of diamonds instead of cut crystal.

At the northern end of the conference room hung a giant portrait of an elderly man beaming down on everyone in the room. A large figure of a man no doubt, his physical dimensions were only surpassed by his beautiful enormous gray handlebar mustache.

This lustrous facial appendage dominated his entire face, and the portrait as well. One could tell that the painter put a great deal of effort into this most telling feature.

Beate noticed Cameron intently staring at the painting and said.

“Herr Clark, that you are staring at is Herr Doktor Willhem Von Struebenz, the original owner and Direktor of our company circa 1929.”

“Thank you Beate, I am glad to know. For a moment there I had a feeling the old gentleman was not happy to see me in this room.” Replied Cameron in a half joking manner.

“Well I am sure he would not be happy if he knew the real purpose of our engagement.” Answered Beate as she sat down next to Cameron.

“What do you mean?” Asked Cameron in an inquisitive manner.

“Herr Doktor Willhem Von Struebenz was the Nazi Gauleiter (Nazi political leader for that region) for Kreiss Aachen and a very dedicated party official from 1934 until his untimely death in 1945.” Replied Beate pointing her finger towards the old gentleman.

“It’s nice to know, but his evil puss is not going to change our mission!” Stated Cameron with emphasis. The room suddenly grew quiet as they all sat down.

Cameron began his presentation with an outline of their respective assignments, as he understood it. His outline and the many questions kept the meeting going until well into the late afternoon. After all was said and done, he felt comfortable with his staff and their respective assignments. Cameron was amazed at the length it took to brief them and what was expected of them. He had been so intense that they had skipped lunch all together, and the workday was nearly over. He let everyone go an hour early and apologized for his tardiness.

Cameron stayed behind and wrapped up the rest of his paper work. There was one more thing he had to do before he left the office. He walked over to the conference room, and slowly opened the door. He turned on the light and once again stared at the portrait of the old man. Herr Doktor Willhem Von Struebenz glared down from his lofty perch. By then, he was the only one left, and the office was deserted. No witnesses, he thought to himself. Cameron slowly raised his middle finger, in an act of defiance. This infantile and rude gesture had somehow made him feel much better. At least the old goat knew, who the real boss was now.

The drive home took a little longer than expected. Traffic was pretty fierce today, until he reached the Dueren exit. Once he got on the main Landstrasse (highway) towards the Eifel region, traffic slowed down, and the rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. He pulled up in front of Dieter’s front door at around seven fifteen. Dieter and Kate were waiting for him. She had prepared a great German dinner and was dying to show off her culinary skills. In fact, Cameron had never tasted a better Goulash beef stew and noodles. The noodles were hand made and added to the incredible taste of the dish. Even his wife Ingrid’s cooking, paled to Kate’s cuisine. She had obviously spent a great deal of time on this sumptuous meal.

They all ate their meal in absolute silence. It seemed as if noise of any kind would somehow disturb their enjoyment and ruin their evening delight. Dieter brought out a couple of bottles of Spaetlase (late bloom) sweet Moselle region wines. These vintage wines added to the absoluteness of this meal. In addition, Kate had baked a beautiful Apfeltorte (Apple cake) to finish off this one in a lifetime dinner. Although the meal was consumed in silence, there was a great deal of chatter afterwards. Both men complimented Kate and asked her if she wanted to join them in the living room for an after dinner drink. Kate thanked the men, but declined. She could not stand the smell of cigars, and she knew that her husband could not drink brandy, without smoking a stogie.

Dieter went to his bar and opened a bottle of German brandy. Asbath Uhralt was its name, and it was one of the better brands in Germany. After a couple double shots, both men mellowed out to the point of almost falling asleep. Eventually, Dieter brought up the conversation around to Das Haus. He started to tell Cameron about the historical, political and religious significance of his future new home. Das Haus was more than just a mere stack of stones, bricks and paint, explained Dieter to an exhausted Cameron.

“It is probably the most important house in our village.” explained Dieter as he stood up from his comfortable chair.

“That is a pretty strong statement Dieter. Give me some more details.” Asked Cameron.

Dieter started to tell him an incredible, but true story of a Jewish family tragedy. The story was all about the Goldmann family, and some of the other Jewish inhabitants, who inhabited Niedergeyer and the surrounding villages.

“Did you know that I was Erik Goldmann’s best friend? I played soccer with him for many years? Erik was the best soccer player in our region. We were in kindergarten together and stayed friends, and close buddies until the day he was sent to Buchenwald. I knew him for over thirteen years.” Stated Dieter in a mournful kind of way.

Cameron did not answer at first, but shook his head. Dieter paused for a few seconds; then continued with renewed vigor and determination. He hoped that Cameron would show some interest in this amazing saga.

Initially Cameron was somewhat jaded, but as Dieter continued to expand his tale, his interest grew. Dieter was a great storyteller and managed to capture Cameron’s attention.

“This is a great story, incredible and fascinating. Who would ever thought that such an unbelievable event would have taken place in this little village? Who else knows about these events?” Asked a curious Cameron.

“Well, some of the villagers who are still living will remember the Goldmann family. But no one knows all the details like I do.” Stated an obviously proud Dieter.

“You must tell me more.” Finished an enthralled Cameron Clark.