A Letter from Reinhardt Schneider to Rosa Stewart-Schneider
My beloved,
In response to your previous letter, I too miss you excruciatingly. These are shadowy jungles that I tread. Behind every bush, atop every tree, my prey could be awaiting. This place truly is the Dark Continent. At night while I hunt the beast, thoughts of you invade my mind. I know that when I am on the hunt I must keep my mind focused, but I feel as though I have been missing something for these past many months. The constant continent hopping trying to keep up with this monster has made me weary and homesick. I long for the moment when I can fall asleep in your arms and feel safe. When I have finished what I have set out to do, you and I will take a long holiday. We can go anywhere you want. Preferably an island isolated from the rest of humanity. If not, I will settle just for a moment's peace alone with you. Do you know that lately I have had a recurring dream? It is a dream, not a nightmare. You and I are walking along a beach shore. We hold each other's hand and we walk.
Until that dream can be made a reality, let me offer you some consolation with a memory from my childhood. When I was five, my father once told me he had to take a long journey. I asked him where we were going. He said that this journey he must take without my mother or I. Why, I asked him. He said to me, "Where I must go is where no one else can go. What I must do, no one can do for me. It is a matter of blood." Soon after that he left on horseback with a cousin of his, Morris, a man named William Graves and another man whom I did not know. Although I did not know it at the time, together they rode to Dracula's castle. They were gone for days, weeks, perhaps even a month. I missed my father terribly during that time. Seeing how distraught I was, my mother each night said a prayer with me before going to bed. She told me that so long as I pray each night, my father would know that we were waiting for his return. Finally one night halfway through the second month my father returned. He and my cousin Morris had been riding for many days and were very tired. But do you know what my father said to me when we were alone? "I heard you. I heard your prayers." So now I ask you my love. Pray for me each night.
Love,
Reinhardt June 16, 1855
My beloved,
In response to your previous letter, I too miss you excruciatingly. These are shadowy jungles that I tread. Behind every bush, atop every tree, my prey could be awaiting. This place truly is the Dark Continent. At night while I hunt the beast, thoughts of you invade my mind. I know that when I am on the hunt I must keep my mind focused, but I feel as though I have been missing something for these past many months. The constant continent hopping trying to keep up with this monster has made me weary and homesick. I long for the moment when I can fall asleep in your arms and feel safe. When I have finished what I have set out to do, you and I will take a long holiday. We can go anywhere you want. Preferably an island isolated from the rest of humanity. If not, I will settle just for a moment's peace alone with you. Do you know that lately I have had a recurring dream? It is a dream, not a nightmare. You and I are walking along a beach shore. We hold each other's hand and we walk.
Until that dream can be made a reality, let me offer you some consolation with a memory from my childhood. When I was five, my father once told me he had to take a long journey. I asked him where we were going. He said that this journey he must take without my mother or I. Why, I asked him. He said to me, "Where I must go is where no one else can go. What I must do, no one can do for me. It is a matter of blood." Soon after that he left on horseback with a cousin of his, Morris, a man named William Graves and another man whom I did not know. Although I did not know it at the time, together they rode to Dracula's castle. They were gone for days, weeks, perhaps even a month. I missed my father terribly during that time. Seeing how distraught I was, my mother each night said a prayer with me before going to bed. She told me that so long as I pray each night, my father would know that we were waiting for his return. Finally one night halfway through the second month my father returned. He and my cousin Morris had been riding for many days and were very tired. But do you know what my father said to me when we were alone? "I heard you. I heard your prayers." So now I ask you my love. Pray for me each night.
Love,
Reinhardt June 16, 1855